[K][T] and Family Ch. 03

With that settled, dinner was officially complete. Sean and I stood by the door, so everyone could offer their personal congratulations. In succession I was hugged be Francine, Siobhan, Christine and Jason. I noticed that my new receptionist watched, trying to seem nonchalant.

I went to her, took one hand in both of mine and said, "Welcome to the team. Believe whatever you hear from the people here, but very little else.

"I expect you have no place tonight." Roxanna nodded. "I will have you driven to my apartment. I will be staying here. Your first test, off the clock as it were, will be handling the media camped at my doorstep. You and Christine can share the apartment for the next couple of weeks, at no cost to you. Then we will see. When a room is prepared, Christine will be moving in here, so this is strictly temporary.

"You may call me Sheila, or Miss Sheila if you insist. At work I will be Mrs. Schwartz-Richards for now. Go ahead and start tonight. Eventually I will drop the maiden name, but for now we need some continuity. Everything goes through Helen, but not verbally. She and Christine are from the same mold. I will alert to Human Resources that you are coming in the morning. Don't worry about that. They are used to people just showing up with a job in hand.

"One word about Jason. Feel free to do whatever. He has skills. Do not expect him to be your long term anything, except friend. Christine will not get jealous, but she will also not disappear from Jason's radar. He is going to be famous. In fact, he may be already. His agent is JD Mann, of Mann and Hartman. Please contact JD and say I requested it. You can be useful to each other.

"Welcome to the asylum. Now, go face the music."

Francine:

The rehearsal was boring, as such things often are. I had three set people on site. They all had lighting experience. Justin Immons was a photographer, so lighting was in his job description. Whenever professionals work on a problem, there will be variations. They dickered a while, but they found a way to make it work.

The nice thing about wedding rehearsals is that there is a dinner attached. I was about a thousand calories short on my daily quota, so the timing was excellent, provided they ate before talking. At least there was promise of reasonable portions. Roxie and I were placed facing each other. I was next to Christine, which put Roxie next to Jason. That could prove interesting. On the far end was Siobhan, which meant the seat next to Sean would be the best man. His name turned out to be Curtis. By the time I learned that, my stomach was audibly growling.

With all due modesty, I am an experienced gourmand. The chefs in New York love to try things out on me, because I will eat almost anything that stays on a plate. We would be getting a competition of main line New Jersey cooking, meaning American with a heavy Italian influence. It showed from the start. The amuse bouche was a seafood trio, one from each contestant. The shrimp was called a croquette, but crocchetta would be closer, based on the seasoning. The scallop almondine could have come from any seaside cafe from Sicily to Spain. Only the deconstructed crab salad was strongly American. It was also the best prepared and most imaginative.

The soup course was in green, white and red, the colors of the Italian flag. That was probably not coincidence, because the pasta course mirrored it. I made a mental note to talk to the chef that did the lemon basil pesto. His ravioli was pedestrian, but the sauce was killer. In contrast, the alfredo sauce was ordinary, but the ravioli had a deadly roasted pepper and ricotta filling.

For the main course (only idiots call it an entrée, which means first course) I told them to give me the leftovers. That turned out to be chicken and beef. Christine passed me her pork, to make the trio. She and Sheila shared one portion. For this course, there was a clear third place. The smoked pork was merely good and the pilaf only slightly better. The beef Wellington was on par with the Savoy, which is high praise. The three mushroom stuffing was perfect: pungent, earthy, and moist. Unfortunately, the sides were boring.

The star of the evening was the chicken plate. This chef put real effort into the sides. Wine braised chicken is slightly sweet, which was a theme for the plate. Most braised chicken uses red wine, but the chef had chosen a white. It allowed the rosemary and thyme to show through. Herb roasted sweet potatoes are rather simple, but easily over or undercooked. These were perfect. The frozen pea salad had a healthy dose of mint and basil, with just a touch of oregano. There was the Italian influence again. Those played well against the rosemary and thyme in the chicken and the cilantro and fennel in the sweet potatoes. Improve the plating a bit and this could be served at a five star restaurant.

By the time I finished the last main course plate, I was ready for dessert. This turned out to be ice cream, churned on site. I recognized the recipe. It was the Farm Journal tutti fruiti, which is almost impossible to screw up. That made it a good choice for the first trial. I would have added nuts, but there were some at the table, so the omission may have been intentional. It was almost a sherbert, which made it a good transition to coffee and brandy.

I started toward the kitchen, to congratulate the chefs, only to have them come out toward me. Everyone gave them a hand. While Sean announced some extra prizes, I talked to Rick Williams the MC. I found that the chicken plate had been made by the same chef that did the ravioli with lemon pesto and the crab salad stack. He earned my unofficial vote. Rick was the judge, though I did not know it at the time. He agreed and I have been on the judges panel every time since. It was the easiest audition of my life.

While I was discussing food, the rest of the group discussed our trip to the city. We had a stop in Elizabeth. Siobhan approached me about going back to the warehouse store. She wanted to learn how to shop for clothes. That was a lot to cover in one short session, but what the hell. Christine would keep Sheila company.

Roxanna's job interview went without a hitch. I wonder if she knew one was occurring. Sheila covered a few points, then sent her into the cold. I wished her luck and promised to check on her while Sheila was on her honeymoon. Once that formality was done, the meeting was over. I told Roxie that she was driving me home. She would do that a lot, while I played Miss Martel for Cynthia's clients. I wondered how long it would take for Roxie to figure out Sheila was Cynthia.

Before we left, Sheila asked my help in a class in basic ballroom dance. Siobhan had shown up with not only her entire contingent, but several of the Amish. That was OK by me. Most of our music would be Austrian. It was exactly the corrupt culture the Amish ancestors had run from in the 18th century. I neglected to mention it. Wise mothers warn their own daughters about the waltz, but I was not a mother.

I was disappointed when Roxie stayed on the sidelines. It was fun, but just basics. A few minutes in, Sheila deputized her experienced dancers—including Siobhan, to her shock. Oskar Gruber was a greedy SOB, but he could teach dance. It was obvious to me that some had soaked in. Siobhan wore dance heels. Someone had advised her on on that point, probably Elspeth, who was quite good for an amateur. Siobhan had fun, which is the point.

After an hour, I begged off for some sleep, which was no joke. Even with my nap, I was dragging. I collected Roxie and handed her the keys. On impulse, I gave her the car, since she would be playing chauffeur all week. It never hurts to make someone's job personal.

There was still a crowd of reporters outside my fourplex, but the quality had improved. I think Sheila's ruse had satisfied the bottom feeders. The ones that were left were either covering the wedding or me directly. Either way, I was ready. After the usual dance, I let myself into my apartment. Once again I was horny. Once again I went to sleep with suction on both my tits, thinking of Christine and Jason. Make a latte. That was a good one.

In the morning, I realized I intended to have Jason give me a child.

Siobhan:

After dinner turned into something of a meeting. We had old business, new business, everything but the reading of minutes. Francine spent time talking food with Rick Williams. The rest of us discussed the coming trip the the City. After that, I was called to report on the Amish. For new business, Sheila interviewed Roxanna DeWinter as her new receptionist. I wonder if Roxanna even noticed, since no one said a word.

I asked Francine to give me a lesson in clothes buying, since we would be in Elizabeth again. Francine was a complex woman, but she could not resist the urge to teach. I just needed to present an opportunity. With that done, I had a dance lesson scheduled. I went to see my girls, including Evaine. In addition to all my grad students, I went to the Ballroom with half a dozen teenage girls and a couple of young mothers as escort. Unofficially, there were also a few of the Amish boys.

Sheila was running things, with some help from Francine. That would not last. Francine had a nap, but she needed real sleep. Add that to a full meal, even by Francine's standard, and you get a walking zombie. I quietly made sure she was not driving home. Roxanna had the keys. I called security and had them bring her a GPS with the home addresses preset.

After dinner, I had a dance class scheduled. On our jaunt that morning, I had asked Elspeth to pick me some heels for dancing. That had led to an hysterical laptop session. We found a British supplier that did nine inch heels, with a four inch platform, all in clear acrylic with sparkles. Woof. A little more checking showed that the site was targeting strippers and pole dancers.

After that, Elspeth targeted Latin dance. Bizrate had shoes running up to $3000, but Nieman-Marcus always was top dollar. In any event, finding shoes online was not the problem. Finding them in driving distance was. We finally found some Badgley Mischka marked down to $199. I had paid $10 for my army boots. When I told Elspeth, she laughed so hard she had to grab a fixture. I resolved to keep the boots as a memento.

Sheila picked up on Elspeth even before she cued the music. Soon Elspeth was her first assistant. Before long she picked out Jasper, Conrad, Vivian and, to my surprise, me. We were set to coaching the others in small groups. At some point Francine and Roxanna left. The rest of us went until well after ten o'clock.

As we broke up, I caught Sheila's eye. A few gestures later, Christine followed my to my old room. Her bruising was doing as well as could be expected. I rubbed in more lotion, then we crashed. It had been a long day.

I woke to lips on my pussy.

Sean:

After our impromptu meeting, Sheila and I had a brief time to ourselves. I hugged her and told her how proud she had made me. Sheila held me close, like she wanted to make sure I was real. I put my hand on her ass, but she dropped out of it. In the hallway, in full view of the cameras, Sheila unzipped my pants, pulled out my cock and sucked me to climax. When I was a teen, a riddle had asked the difference between like and love. One was spit and the other was swallow. Sheila loved me.

She had tucked me away, she went to the Ballroom to teach Jo some more dance. I went to security to spy. To my surprise, Jo brought all of her grad students and several of the Amish. Things went predictably, except that Francine was half asleep. Jo called up for a preprogrammed GPS. I was happy to see one was ready. Jo made sure that Roxanna DeWinter had the keys, then sent the two of them off.

I had mixed feelings about Roxanna. Francine had brought her along, mostly because she had nowhere else to go. I resisted calling Roxanna a girl, even in my own mind, but the innocence was there. You could see it in the way she flirted with Jason. If ever there was a nineteen year old surfer dude that had seen the elephant, Jason was that man. Roxanna was at least twenty five, but she came across as a girl. Oh well. She would mature or she would not survive around my Kitten.

Left to myself, I wanted to read, but there was no chance. Instead I went to the big gym and started lifting free weights. In less than a minute, security showed up to spot me. I would hear from Gerald, but I would commend his people's response time. It was an old dance. I stopped abruptly, with the weight at full extension. It occurred to me what would happen if Sheila found out. Yikes. Roxanna was not the only one that had areas to mature.

I did a good set, then showered. About halfway through the second half hour, Sheila startled (woke?) me with a kiss on the neck. I pulled her over my shoulder and into my lap. That let me kiss her properly. It was a pity I could not pursue it, but my own voice forbade Sheila from cumming til after the wedding. Under those circumstances, I would not demand service. Instead, we undressed each other for bed. In a twist, Sheila put on a camisole. It was cute, naughty and bottomless, but it was more than she had worn before. I wondered what it foretold.

We climbed into bed. I went to sleep with my hand on Sheila's nipple. Some things never change.

Sheila:

I had misgivings about Roxanna. I hesitated to call her a girl, since she was almost my age, but that was my impression. I do not care where you are from, or how you are raised, it is bad manners to hit on someone else' date. Roxanna was definitely hitting on Jason. Still, she had some skills I needed and Francine indicated she needed a place, so I agreed to take her on a trial basis. Rooming her with Christine would be informative.

I had promised Siobhan more dance instruction. I said to bring anyone interested and to wear heels. I was pleased to see that Siobhan wore a two and half inch heeled salsa shoe. The color could have worked better with her outfit, but that was an issue for another night.

Behind Siobhan was her new shadow, wearing the same brand of shoe in a taller heel. I gave Siobhan points for getting advice from a good source. I asked Siobhan introduce us. As she did, I noticed that Elspeth was staring. G_d. This had not happened in years. I asked her if she wanted Francine's autograph. She said that would be nice, but she really wanted mine. Oh my.

I took Elspeth's hand and walked her through a couple of school figures. As I expected, she was smooth and practiced. She would do for an assistant. Francine was there, but she was falling down. She had been OK before we ate, but with a big meal to digest, Francine had trouble keeping her eyes open.

I was going to need assistance, because Siobhan brought a crowd. There were eight grad students arrayed behind her, plus a sampling of the single Amish and a some of the staff. In all there were about fifteen, running two-thirds female. Some looked like they had seen a dance floor before, but others were completely raw.

I had Elspeth and Francine each take four or five and line them up. A few stretches and exercises were enough to pull out some lead partners. Fortunately, a couple of Siobhan's male students and one of the security guys had skills—as did Siobhan. I made up five couples, using Elspeth and Siobhan in the male role. Francine and I walked them through the basic box, with another girl watching. Then we switched off, keeping the lead partner in place.

This went on for about an hour. Everyone had at least three rotations, two to music, so I called a break. Francine needed to get to bed. The rank newbies had absorbed all they could handle. I wanted to do some more advanced steps, with the more experienced dancers, before calling it a night.

I called everyone together. First, I thanked Francine for coming. Everyone applauded. Then I told them that the lesson was complete. If they wished, I would like to take a few of the more experienced people and do some real dancing. There were several volunteers. I chose two of Siobhan's guys and John, the security tech, for the male. For the other partner I placed Elspeth, Siobhan and myself. John was the best of the men, so I paired him with Siobhan. I took the weakest, named Jasper. That left Elspeth with Conrad.

We danced three pieces: a Strauss waltz, a foxtrot and a quick step. The next piece up was Joplin's The Entertainer, made famous by The Sting. I can dance to almost anything, but that was not for a beginner's class. Just before I said something, the music changed to The Hustle. Everyone, except the Amish cheered, so I waved everyone onto the floor and we did a couple of disco line dances. It was a wonderful finish. The next piece was a tango, but I would only do those with Sean. Besides, my so-called submissive had had her fun.

I called Siobhan and Christine over. Siobhan had already told me that she would be sleeping in the same hall as the Amish. I warned Christine that she would have to be discrete, because she would stay with Siobhan for the next two nights. I then told both of them about Roxanna and her temporary living arrangements. Siobhan looked unconcerned, but Christine looked thoughtful. This led to one of our odd conversations. Siobhan watched in fascination.

I asked, "Jason?" Christine nodded. I held up two fingers in a V, then moved them together. Christine nodded again. I held up three fingers and moved them together. Christine looked intrigued. I asked, "Tonight?" Christine declined. Then she changed the subject. I asked, "Jason?" Christine nodded. I thought for a moment. "You're not serious." Christine nodded emphatically.

I looked at Siobhan. "Were you following that?" She replied, "Not that last." I drew a deep breath, "Francine is thinking about asking Jason to father a child." To give Siobhan her due, she was ready to handle the issue. She asked Christine, "How do you feel about that?" Christine smiled. One of the reasons I loved Christine was her forgiving nature. Jealousy did not enter into her decisions. I could not have shrugged it off so easily.

I gave Christine a hug, lifted her skirt to view the damage, then sent them off. Jason and Francine. Who would have thought? Sheila and Sean. Who would have thought that either? Certainly not me. Three weeks ago, my life had been self contained. I had my businesses and my clients. That and 80 hour work weeks kept me something like contented, but no longer. Sean was waiting, but I was not ready to go to him.

I walked through the Ballroom, for what must have been the tenth time. For at least the hundredth time I resisted the urge to dance. Something was pulling at me, but I could not figure out what. I felt I was in a doorway, but unable to enter or exit. The two sides of the door we clear enough—my old life and my new one—but what was the door itself? How could I pass the portal? How could I close the door?

My ruminations ground to a halt as footsteps approached. I did not recognized the stride, so it was not Sean. Big, firm striding, authoritative, it had to be Gerald. He was not on duty, but he did live on site. He could be here on his own time—but not. He was here to see me. Someone had seen me pacing and alerted him. I did not know anyone on this security shift particularly well, so it was doubtful they interrupted his evening. Since I was simply pacing, that left Sean.

"Hello Gerald. What did Sean do to get you back in the fold?"

"Ma'am, it says in the Good Book that as iron sharpens iron, so does man sharpen man. You are a fine grain whetstone. He was lifting free weights without a spotter. This is a long running issue with the Boss, but tonight was different. The Boss froze in mid lift and started swearing under his breath. Everyone is on edge, what with the crowd at the gate, so every little gets run up the ladder." That was funny.