K&T, LLC Ch. 03

With full formality, Sheila dropped to one knee and presented the lash to me. "In front of this witness, I offer this lash, in the hope it serves you as well as it has served me." It was very like my wedding proposal. In a sense, this was the same thing, but for a different bonding. I could not refuse. "Rise. Your homage has found favor."

Jo had been wide eyed when Sheila unlocked the cabinet. Our little ceremony changed that. I knew Jo's analytical mode when I saw it. That was good. She just needed raw data to analyze. Easy enough and Jo tipped the first stop herself. "Show me the costumes."

Sheila does not have a costume closet, though she tends to refer to it that way. Ten years of dedicated purchasing had developed a full blown wardrobe department. There were three rooms for clothes and shoes, which just included her working clothes. I had not seen her street clothes storage, but Sheila kept them separately. I noticed that the little black flapper dress was out, almost on display. I hoped that night was not repeated soon.

I had a lot of time to think through all this, because Jo had gone into deep thinking mode. Not much will shut her up, but this was one of them. Jo slowly scanned it all, cataloging as she went. Presently, she returned to reality enough to notice us waiting. Jo was starting to come up from the deep when, quite visibly, she had a revelation. I never did not know what the revelation was, but Sheila almost teleported to Jo's side. Their hug was all about mutual understanding, though they would never tell me what was understood.

I would have been willing to take a break, but the next stop needed to be the main studio. I need not have worried. Jo had already seen the elephant. In the studio, Sheila moved to the stretching bar and flowed through a routine. It seemed to be built around the position I had given her the first day. In fact, I had called it First Position.

I had a small revelation of my own. Sheila was, quite literally, still following my instructions during that first session. It was some form of reference point in her mind. I would need to talk to Jo about this. It was a cornerstone of our relationship and Sheila was formalizing specific aspects of it in front of a witness. Heavy.

The next stop was the editing room. Sheila was deferring to me, so I picked up the Jason disk. That would rattle a lot of cages. With Jo it pricked her interest. That done, I had Sheila run one of the raw recordings. She did not misunderstand, even though I did not tell her where to start. She did run it very fast. That was fine. It would still do what I wanted done.

Sheila is very controlled. It is more the nature of what she does, than of what she is. That day, she systematically broke down someone else's control. Then she went about her routine—til I made her stop. Jo had seen the product. I wanted to give her a glimpse of what it cost, counting on Jo's ability to notice small things quickly. Jo did not let me down. Commenting seemed redundant, after that, but we heeded a breather. So, we went to the gym.

After the studio, the normality of XTreme Fitness was cool relief. I half hoped to see Claudia Johnson, but correctly guessed she would have Monday off. We did see a woman named Sharon, evidently the yoga instructor. Sheila greeted her warmly, but as a trusted colleague rather than as a friend. After introductions and a reminder of the wedding, Sheila dropped one of her patented bombs. She asked Sharon to cover Sheila's workout clients for two weeks.

One thing I loved about Sheila is that I could use her conversations as sales training. Sharon objected, pleading ignorance of workout equipment. Sheila countered that the clients knew the routines, but needed an experienced monitor to push their limits. Then Sharon protested lack of time. Sheila countered that there was a list of trainers, which Sharon could use for backup, but none of them had Sheila's trust like Sharon did. It was a classic power close, delivered so that Sharon felt respected and appreciated. Perfect.

The odd note, as Sherlock Holmes would say, was the barking dog. Jo never said a word. As we toured the rest of the gym and bought some bottled water, Jo remained uncharacteristically silent. We went out the front and around to the parking in the rear. Just as I was unlocking the doors, Jo grabbed Sheila in a bear hug. Her line was one for the books. "God I've missed you and I don't even know you yet." That summed Sheila up nicely.

Once they were Best Friends Forever, the verbiage started back up. Almost immediately an issue popped up. It was Monday evening, getting late, and we had never discussed our invitations. Harold Johnstead had already agreed to do them, but he needed something to print. Worse, the invitations needed to go out in the morning.

Here, Jo was in her element. Francine had said, throw more people at the problem. Sheila had some half formed ideas. Siobhan put them into words on paper. In barely two minutes, we had the the text for our wedding invitation.

Jo can be a raging bitch, quite often, but there are reasons I love her.

Siobhan:

After the raw power of Sheila's disclosure, touring a gym was a perfect way to cool down and process everything. I loved Sheila's term for her route—the rabbit hole. Like Alice, we were exiting a fantasy and entering the mundane. Once through to the other side, things were pretty quiet. It was just another well equipped gym, such I had seen from time to time. Fitness is not one of my passions.

It was fascinating watching Sheila go native. Even though the studio was her demesne, she had been deferring to Sean. I know D/s relations when I see them and this was not one. D/s simply did not cover their relationship. It was more of the old fashioned love, honor and obey. Sheila was going to make me rethink my attitudes on traditional weddings, among a few thousand other things. In the gym, she was different. There, Sheila was in one of her work places and Sean was her guest. We met one of Sheila's coworkers—Sharon.

Introductions were standard. I was introduced as a future in-law in a way that did not make my teeth hurt, which takes skill. It was just a taste, because Sheila had a favor to ask and she was not taking no for an answer. No one gets far in academia without learning to schmooze, but this was above that. Sheila was a genuine artist at work.

She asked Sharon to take care of her fitness clients, for two weeks. I had not been aware that Sheila had clients outside her studio, but that was details. Clearly, Sheila valued them as much as her other clients. This was just a bit professionalism showing through. Sharon declined, then declined again. Again, this is not unusual. Most people actually enjoy doing a favor, but the cost in time and effort sinks most attempts from the start. Ethical people dislike making commitments for exactly that reason.

So, one could deduce that Sharon was ethical. She was also a yoga instructor, not a personal trainer. I could see that as a valid distinction. Sheila waved it aside. She claimed Sharon did not need to know the routine or the equipment, she needed good judgment about when to push and when to accept. Yoga is all about understanding limits and pushing them a little. The time objection was feeble in comparison. Sheila simply mentioned that there was a staff available. Then Sheila reiterated that Sharon—and no one else—was her choice.

If it was total BS, it still might have worked. A good enough liar can talk people into a lot of things. However, sincerity is very powerful and most people know the real thing when they see it. I believed that Sharon was the only one for the job, and I did not know her. In any event, Sharon reluctantly agreed.

From there, we moved through the rest of the gym, to the water bar and out into the evening gloaming. I reflected on the exchange with Sharon. It succinctly demonstrated who Sheila was. She had been focused, ready to handle problems, well prepared and very genuine. It was the sincerity that had sold Sharon on the job. It was odd to think it about someone that spent her life taking colors from the surroundings, but Sheila was genuine where it counted. I suspected she was also a terrible liar, unless it fit a role she was wearing.

There are very few people that you can just meet and fall into a relationship with. Sheila was not one of those people. Instead, she had taken great effort and care in presenting herself to me. Granted, the effort was subtle. Many people would not have gotten much of what I had seen, but that was a good thing. Sheila had tailored her presentation for someone insightful. It was kind of flattering.

When I thought that, I realized that it had worked. I wanted, very much, to have Sheila in my life. That she would be family was icing on the cake. Almost without realizing what I was doing, I reached out and pulled Sheila to me. My hug might have been a bit over the top, but that was me being genuine. I think I said something, because both Sean and Sheila nodded. God it felt good.

Once the tears and hugs had run out, we climbed back in and started talking about the wedding. I could almost see Sheila slapping her forehead. She and Sean needed to get invitations out in the morning mail. They had a printer and Sheila had the design on a thumb drive, but the text had never been started. Sheila had hoped to discuss it with me at the airport, but events worked out otherwise.

The text would be easy. What I needed was a few details, like proper attire and such. Sheila had made the early 20th century theme very clear. However, she had the lovely idea of using rented horse drawn carriages. That needed to be worked in. The reception dance would be very formal. Sean had planned for a number of outdoor events, which would be available to the children. So:

Nothing to it.

Sheila looked pleased. She pulled out a phone and hit a speed number. "Harold. We have the design for the invitation. Where can we meet you?" There was a short pause. "Fine. Ten minutes." Then she told Sean, "The print shop."

Then Sheila turned to me, and the hair on my neck stood up. She said, "Siobhan, as you saw, Sharon will cover my regular fitness appointments for two weeks. I need someone to handle my other clients. You have seen my studio, so you know what that entails. I planned to ask Francine tomorrow, but, now that I know you better, I would feel much more comfortable if you could do it together. Please say you will consider it." Ye Gods, Sheila put out some serious wattage.

I thought back on the short discussion with Sharon. If I pleaded ignorance, I would be disingenuous. It was not my scene, but I knew the basics. I suspected Francine would be in the same boat. Clearly, based on how Sheila had dealt with Sharon, character was more important than experience. That was flattering any way you cut it. Besides, it sounded like fun.

Rather than fight it, I simply said yes. Sheila's smile was a thing of beauty. Then she said, "I think you will do well. Sean has a talent for this kind of thing. Ask him about Mario. However, you now need to know that Harold Johnstead is a client. At some point I will tell him that you will be filling in for me."

That was fast. It was one thing to say I would take over at the lash. It was another to hear that I was about to meet a client. My emotions were all over the place. Then I remembered that it was just an introduction and that I would be in charge. That was familiar enough. Sheila was the Professor and I was the new senior TA. It was time to scare the troops. Got it, and none too soon. We were there.

It was a printing firm, which looked like any other. Sheila had her phone out, talking to Harold. As Sean pulled into a parking slot, a door opened to one side of the building. An older, but not elderly man held the door. I think he was surprised to see three of us. In short order we were in a typical working office, i.e. cluttered.

There was a bit of fuss while Harold brought in another chair. It gave me a chance to look at a framed picture of Jason, one of many I had just seen at Sheila's studio. This one was signed by a number of people, including Jason and Sheila. It was hung above the computer. In this room, that was a place of honor, because Harold would see it many times each day.

Before I had time to wonder much about the photograph, it was time for introductions. Sheila introduced Sean first. Harold was clearly expecting the groom, but his eyes widened when Sheila introduced him as Mister Sean. When I was introduced as Miss Siobhan—no one but Sheila ever used my proper name—Harold's eyes narrowed. When Sheila gave an almost imperceptible nod, they widened substantially. There was a subtext in there for me—clients pay attention. I could use that.

Once everyone was seated, Sheila pulled out a thumb drive, saying "Relief 1." Harold opened the drive, then opened the file. The image had been processed so that it looked like a bas relief. Harold nodded, as if this was routine. He opened a program and loaded the image. Sheila then handed him the text I had thrown together. Harold fed it in with practiced ease. He fiddled a bit, then pulled down a menu and clicked an option. Off to one side a machine purred.

What came out was an image of Sean and Sheila physically embossed into the stiff paper. The image was sideways across the bottom of the page. It appeared to be a candid shot. Sean was behind Sheila and had his arms around her. Sheila was twisting to kiss him. It conveyed a great deal of their relationship. Sean was holding and protecting. Sheila was moving in a tight space and returning the affection. Knowing Sheila, as I was coming to, I suspected they were in the middle of making love. Clearly the top of the sheet would be folded back. On the opposite bottom would be the text. This required an adjustment.

Harold had keyed the language into a text box. It fit well enough vertically. Sheila had him rotate it 90°. Harold nodded and converted the single text box into a triple. In the upper portion, running full width, was the invitation. Then in two side-by-side boxes sat the balance of the text. This way it would fit properly on the bottom half of the page. The result was a card that opened up instead of across.

It was not perfect. For one thing, it was plain card stock. For another, the size was off. Those details could be delegated. Even in its raw version, it was a classy invitation, but it also had a subtle edge. Yale alumni consider invitations an art form and this was among the best I had seen. Sheila and Harold talked a bit about inks and typefaces. Then about an alternative which would not serve as an invitation to the ball. They settled on fifty of the first and one hundred fifty of the second, to be available by 10:00 AM. I checked my phone. It was already 11:00 PM. It can be nice to know your publisher.

Then, Sheila asked Sean to excuse himself for a minute. Sean nodded, as if he were expecting this, and asked for directions to the restroom. As he left, Harold went to a locked filing cabinet and pulled out a photo. Meanwhile Sheila pulled out a tube of hooker red lipstick and applied it thickly.

Harold turned from the cabinet, then stopped, as if surprised to see me. Sheila raised a single eyebrow. Harold's own eyebrows rose, but he brought her the picture. That had the feeling of a rebuke. I had been in enough faculty and staff meetings to recognize a saved up slight. My guess is that this was a first cousin. Harold had a demerit to wipe away, but that was for later.

Sheila pressed her freshly waxed lips among a cluster of signatures. Then, she showed it to me. The clear implication was that the red kiss was Cynthia's signature. I turned to look at Sheila. As I suspected, there was a subtle difference from a few moments before. Just as she had changed personae when we traveled from the studio to the gym, Sheila Schwartz had just become Mistress Cynthia. She looked back at me, then apparently decided she had seen what she needed, because she winked.

Of all the things I had seen and done that day, that surprising intimacy is the one I remember best.

Sheila:

The trip to the printer was interesting. Siobhan proved to be quite adept with invitation-ese. I gave her a few details and she knocked out the text. I phoned Harold and he agreed to meet us at the shop. That raised an issue that would be best dealt with quickly. I needed someone to cover my clients at the studio. Christine could be helpful, but she was not one to take charge. I had planned on asking Francine, but Siobhan was Sean's sister and I already knew how well he used a lash.

Rather than play coy, I came right out with it. "Siobhan, as you saw, Sharon will cover my regular fitness appointments for two weeks. I need someone to handle my other clients. You have seen my studio, so you know what that entails. I planned to ask Francine tomorrow, but, now that I know you better, I would feel much more comfortable if you could do it together. Please say you will consider it."

Watching Siobhan's face was eerily like watching Sean's. In spite of being siblings, Sean and Siobhan do not favor each other, but some of the mannerisms are carbon copies. I watched as Siobhan dealt with the question, came up with an objection, decided not to voice it, came up with another objection, decided not to voice it either, then decided to accept. At a guess, the objections were the same two that Sharon had raised, which would bring the same response. It is nice when someone is up to speed, particularly when they say yes.

That settled, I told Siobhan that she would do well, in my opinion and gave her a quick primer on Harold. I was confident Siobhan would pick up my methods fairly quickly, but no time like the present. Then, it was time for introductions.

I put on my Cynthia face and introduced her as Miss Siobhan. Harold picked up on my emphasis, which I confirmed. As I hoped, Siobhan caught both sides of the exchange. She really would do well. Paying attention is 90% of what I do.

Harold puts things on paper, which was the point of our call. I passed over my thumb drive and Siobhan's text for the card. Harold did what he does. It took a little tweaking, but the result was an embossed card that was both stylish and unique. I ordered 200, fifty with the invitation to the ball, and the remainder without. Harold promised them by 10:00 AM.

That concluded our official business. There was one other thing still pending, so I asked Sean to excuse himself. Once he had gone, Harold opened a locked filing cabinet and pulled out the picture. Oddly, the picture's mate was already framed and hanging over Harold's computer. This one was probably going home with him.

As Harold turned, he hesitated, probably because of Siobhan. That would cost him. I had already introduced Siobhan as a Mistress and confirmed Harold's query at the time. He had just gone one step too far. I wonder if Harold realized it, but I suspected Siobhan did. If so, she would do very well. Cynthia's lips signed the photo and we too our leave.