Pauline

I took her to Giuseppe's, and he again fawned over us like we were royalty. It helped his opinion of me quite a bit when I took Carmella and Leslie there for dinner once. He had pictures of us hanging behind his bar, a sort of hall of fame for him. There was even one of him between them while both girls were kissing his cheek. Giuseppe was in his late 60's and I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack.

Mrs. French took notice. "You know these women?"

"They're old friends."

"But they're..."

"Old friends," I said again, grinning. "I've known them since Leslie was 17 and Carmella was 20. We met through a job I held at the time, and I helped them out of an ugly situation once. After that they kind of adopted me."

"Is it true they're lovers? You don't have to tell me, but they seem so happy every time you see them on television."

"They're not lovers. They're spouses. I was best man to both at their wedding in Crete. They're very much in love and I can easily see them growing old together."

"Have you ever, er, known any models?"

I grinned and gave my answer in my best Eaton accent. "Why, Mrs. French, are you asking me to kiss and tell? That would be unseemly, don't you think?"

She giggled like a schoolgirl. "I think, dear Jason, that there's even more to you than my husband knows. Please excuse an old woman and her fantasies."

"Old? Have you not noticed the way Giuseppe stares at you and hovers over the table? He looks at you like you're the last bit of chocolate mousse in the universe."

The woman dimpled when she smiled and I found it very charming, but I wasn't kidding. She was very attractive for her age and he was infatuated. I think I broke his heart when I told him she was happily married to one of the richest men in the state.

After that, every time she was in the building she would stop in and say hello. She even took Marta to lunch once and worked her like an old handpump, trying to find out more about me. Sadly, she knew very little and she wasn't about to divulge what she did. A very frustrated Mrs. French dropped her off.

Mrs. French was snapping pictures with a very nice camera, talking a mile a minute. "Don't they look nice, Robert? Such a handsome couple. I bet they will turn heads when they appear on the floor."

She prattled on a bit in excitement before Mr. French gently stopped her. "Dear, let them go. You can amuse yourself thinking about the flowers for their wedding while they're out. You two play nice and don't embarrass the company. I expect a report by Monday afternoon. Off you go."

Mrs. French went bright red over the comment about the flowers before she giggled. "White and pink, and I know just where to shop for the gown! You need to think about the next generation they'll be giving us."

It was his turn to glow red. It was a bit of a bone of contention between Pauline and her father. He wanted grandchildren he could pass his legacy on to, and she was being particularly stubborn about it. Add in the two failed engagements, and it looked like he would be waiting a while longer.

*****

The limo dropped us out front, and I thought it odd they had a red carpet. The local news outlet was there in force, cameras recording while shutters snapped at the speed of light. We got our share of attention; her father was one of the biggest employers in the state and carried a lot of weight in the town. They knew immediately who Pauline was, and speculation over me was rampant.

She was greeted like the local royalty she was. Pauline loved the attention, the adulation of the masses as it were, and I knew then my original assessment of her was spot on. Miss French was more than a little narcissistic. I just smiled a lot and blended into the background as much as I could. Her father wanted her to be the face; she needed to be the face.

Pauline caught on after about a half an hour. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you get your moment in the sun."

"Why?"

"Because your father wants you to be the new face of his company. I don't want to detract from that."

"You should be by my side. WE'RE the new face of the company."

"Right now, we are. Years down the road, long after I'm gone, I don't want them wondering what happened to me. Best to keep the focus on you."

I could tell she was frustrated. "Why do you keep talking about leaving? You just barely got here."

I shrugged. "It isn't my company, and sooner or later I'll go back to what I used to do."

"What exactly was that?"

"Not this."

Her eyes tightened in anger. I would hazard a guess she wasn't used to people talking to her like I did. She was just going to have to learn to deal with life's little disappointments.

Her smile remained fixed, though, we were introduced to new people, and in between she spoke to old friends. Some stuck me as frenemies, smiling as they patted her on the back, looking for a soft spot to sink the knife. One woman gushed cordiality, but her eyes gave the impression she'd rather kiss a snake. I grinned as she walked away.

"She doesn't like you very much, does she?"

Pauline shrugged before grinning. "That's Nancy Wilde. We went to high school and college together. I stole a boyfriend from her, well, two actually, one in high school and one in college."

"Did you steal them because you wanted them, or just to piss her off?"

Pauline blushed and I had my answer.

Miss Wilde took every opportunity she could to flirt with me, much to the growing irritation of Miss French. "You know what she's doing, right?"

I held up the card she had given me with her numbers on it. "I'm guessing her actions follow the tenants of payback being a bitch, but I could be mistaken."

It didn't surprise me much when she snatched the card out of my hands and tore it into little pieces. "She said you would do that. It's why she gave me two cards. Wine?"

Pauline stormed off towards the ladies' room and I wandered up to the bar. Two glasses of a very good vintage of red wine in hand I scanned the crowd to find her talking to a man I didn't know. She was flirting heavily, giving him all kinds of signals, when I walked up. "Ah, here you are, dear."

She stiffened as I handed her her glass. I smiled. "Well, you seem to be busy. Please excuse me while I mingle."

I hadn't gone twenty steps before Leslie appeared in the crowd, latching down on my arm and giving me a big kiss on the cheek. Carmella appeared an instant later, taking the other arm. They had gone all out, and comparing to how they shined in the room would be like comparing the light from a lantern against two comets blazing across the sky. Men, and a few women, were basically tripping over their tongues.

"We've been watching. She's very beautiful. See how she's trying to make you jealous? How very high school of her. Are you sure you're interested in her?"

"I don't know if I am or not. Like you said, she's behaving like a sixteen-year-old. Perhaps she had an event in her life that left her emotionally stunted."

"Oh my, she just noticed us. I can see the steam coming out of her ears from here. And now she's heading towards us."

It didn't take long before she was standing before us, a quizzical look in her eyes. "I see you finished your conversation with your friend. Please allow me to introduce Leslie O'Brian-Valdez and Carmella Valdez, two very old friends of mine. Ladies, this is Miss Pauline French."

Leslie smiled and shook her hand. Carmella was a little cooler towards her, just to keep her off balance. "Good evening, Miss French. How is it you know our Jason?"

She put a little stress on the word 'our' and smiled when she tensed up. "He's my date for the night!"

Leslie got a dig in. "Really? We thought by your actions the man you were talking to was your date. More than your date, actually. Old friend?"

I could tell the pot was about to boil over. "Yes, an old friend. A very intimate friend at one time. He's married now, to a very lovely woman."

"You threw him back?"

"No, we just had different goals and drifted apart. Jason, Honey, we should mingle. Remember our purpose here."

Carmella gripped me a little tighter when she called me honey. She was having a ball.

"Yes, dear. Ladies, it was lovely to see you here, a very pleasant surprise. Can I take it you support the charity?"

"It seems worthwhile, but we've thought that before. We shall have to do a little research before we commit. I'll call Jason with our decision within a week. Have a pleasant evening." They both made a production out of kissing me on the cheek again before they walked off.

Pauline was struggling with containing her curiosity. That, and she hardly ever had to deal with women as beautiful as she was who treated her with indifference. It was throwing her off her game.

"How well do you know them?"

"Very well. In fact, right now I'm living with them. They're quite lovely, don't you agree?"

She yanked me out on a terrace with a determined look on her face. "You drive a luxury car, I recognize the designer who made your tux and I know he's one of the most expensive in the world, and you live with supermodels? Who the hell are you?"

I bowed. "Jason Halston, at your service. The tux wasn't really that expensive, in fact Alberto gave it to me as a gift for doing him a good turn once. My car was a bit pricey because I had some upgrades done. Herr Hauptman says it's one of a kind. I'm actually housesitting for the girls and they're between assignments at the moment."

Her eyes rolled. "So, you're close enough of a friend to a world class designer that he gives you clothes and you know the second-in-command of Mercedes-Benz well enough to talk about your custom designed luxury car? Friends with anyone else I would know?"

Maybe. If you counted half the clothing designers in the world, business magnates on four continents, assorted film stars, and most of the hottest models on the planet. I didn't say that of course, I just told her my former business brought me in contact with a lot of people.

We mingled, we danced when the orchestra started playing. She sighed as we glided across the floor. "Of course you would dance as well as Fred Astaire. Is there anything you can't do?"

"I can't draw a crooked line. My cliff diving techniques suck and I never could rap worth a damn, but aside from that, I'm almost perfect."

She stiffened before she started giggling. "Well, it seems you're not perfect after all. In the spirit of confession, if I'm ever shooting at you, stand still. I can't hit shit. Don't let me drive angry or we may not get where we're going. And never, under any circumstances, allow me to show you my Irish step dancing skills. I look like all my limbs are trying to leave my body at the same time, all going in different directions."

"That's an interesting mental image. So then, since we're merely human, we should carry on."

I found Pauline to be a bit territorial. She danced with a few of the dignitaries, the movers and shakers of the city. She frowned when I in turn danced with their wives and girlfriends, as well as Les and Carmella, and the icing on the cake happened when they played the tango, by request. Her frenemy, Nancy, had given the orchestra leader five hundred to play it, and she swooped down on me before anyone knew what was going on. I had been taught the dance in Argentina and Brazil and knew what I was doing. She almost didn't keep up. I put all the best moves I'd learned into the routine and in the end, it looked like we were having sex with our clothes on in the middle of the dance floor. I left her on the floor at my feet, gasping from exertion and passion.

I straightened my tux as I walked back to Pauline and my friends. Leslie looked like she was choking while Carmella had a tight little smile. Pauline looked like she wanted to kill me or mount me, maybe at the same time. I smiled. "Miss me?"

She tried several times to form words, so I just swept her back out on the dance floor. As we sedately twirled through a slow waltz she relaxed and molded herself to me as much as possible and still dance. I had to admit she felt really nice.

When we broke she stroked my cheek. "You're going to be hard to handle, aren't you?"

"Ask the girls what happened to the last woman that tried to handle me. If you're in an honest relationship you don't handle people, you share with them towards a common goal."

I saw her talking to the girls while the Chairman cornered me. "Do you think we can depend on your company for support?"

"I can't answer that because I don't have the deciding vote. Miss French does, and she's already told me we'd evaluate our position after a discussion Monday."

He dropped me like I was toxic and made a beeline for Pauline. I saw her shake her head a couple of times and the dejected expression of the man. Things might not work out exactly like he'd hoped.

The hour grew late and we made our excuses. Les got one last dig in, asking if they should wait up for me. Pauline's frown deepened, but she was smiling by the time we got in the car. "You have interesting friends."

"I do. Ignorant or boring people aren't worth the time it takes to know them, so I tend to avoid them and concentrate on the people I find stimulating."

She had slowly closed the gap between us as we traveled. "Do you find me stimulating?"

"Oh, very much, Miss French."

By now we were snuggled together and I jumped when she nipped my ear. "Don't be flip. If you do, you'll need surgery to replace pieces of your ears. And if you call me Miss French one more time, I'll consider it the ultimate in flippancy. Understand?"

"What would you prefer I call you?"

"Well, honey would be nice. Dear wouldn't be unwelcome, either."

"Duly noted, honey dear."

"Oh goody! You already have a pet name for me. You have one other flaw we need to rectify as soon as possible."

"What would that be, dear honey?"

"You talk too much," she said just before her mouth covered mine.

*****

It was a pretty intense fifteen minutes as our tongues dueled and body parts stiffened. Her nipples were crinkled and tight and I was having a hard time getting comfortable with my erection. Pauline didn't help things by stroking it through my pants. I was inching her dress up and she was trying to undo my pants when we heard the crunch on gravel and knew we were on the ornate driveway of her father's house. We just barely got ourselves under control when the car came to a stop.

We might have made it upstairs to her apartment if her mother hadn't been waiting under the columns flanking her front door. I handed her out of the limo and walked her to the portico.

"Thank you, Miss French. It was a most pleasant experience."

"It was indeed, Mr. Halston. We must do something like this again soon."

She was grinning, her mother was staring at me before breaking out in a huge smile. I kissed both on the cheek and took the car home. I walked in the door to find the girls in dressing gowns, drinking wine. They stared at me for a second before the giggles broke out. "What?"

"Go look in the mirror."

It seemed Pauline had a very distinctive color of lipstick, a color that showed up well on my lips and cheek. No wonder her mother was laughing. I now knew what the gleam in Pauline's eye was about.

"Did you nail her? She got any skills that's not fit for genteel conversation? Did..."

"We swapped a little saliva, Les. That was it."

"Really? She looked like she was ready to do you on the dance floor in front of everyone assembled. Why didn't you seal the deal?"

I looked at Carmella and she grinned. "I'm afraid she watches too much television, especially soft porn romances on cable. Seriously, I know she's very attractive, and she probably has plenty of experience, but I got an odd vibe off her. Nothing I can put my finger on without knowing her a little better, but it was there."

"She's led an interesting life." I told them what I knew about her past life, including the boyfriend stealing, the affair with a married man, and her two broken engagements.

"It sounds like she's a conqueror of sorts. It's not about the person, it's about winning, scaling the heights, planting the flag, and moving to the next challenge. I'm sure you've ran into the same thing when you were working in the trade. And I'm sure you know it never ends well."

Carmella, besides being drop dead gorgeous and worth millions, also held a Master's in Psychology and was intent on getting her PhD when she retired. She was at the top of her form, would have many years left, and once told me she was going to ride the train until it ran out of tracks. Les wasn't nearly as worldly-wiseIf it wasn't for me and Carmella, she would be broke. She believed every sob story and every get-rich scheme she heard. It took Carmella demanding to be put in charge of her finances before they would marry to bring her around. Her fortune wasn't as big as her Carmella's, but she could live the rest of her life on what she had very comfortably. Carmella had her on a strict allowance, if you can call ten thousand a month strict. Les was almost always broke before the month was out.

"I think you may be right. Her old classmates have warned me about her ways and I can see it in her from time to time. I may date her, after all she looks almost as good as you ladies, but it will be just for fun."

"And sex." Leslie chimed in.

"Yes, Leslie, and for the sex. That's the fun part."

*****

I ran the next morning to shake off the effects of the rich food and the alcohol from the night before. Feeling worlds better, I ran home, showered and dressed.

Mrs. French, who insisted I call her Monica, called to invite me to lunch on Sunday, and was surprised when I declined.

"I would love to, Monica, but my friends are leaving Monday and I promised I'd spend the day with them."

"That would be those two supermodel friends of yours? Are you sure they're gay?"

"I'm positive, to my deep regret."

I could see her dimples when she replied. "No, Honey, that's a good thing. It allows you to see what's out there. We grow some pretty nice girls locally, you know."

"I very much know. Perhaps next week. We'll go to Giuseppe's Friday, if you think it will be safe to let your husband see how much he desires you."

"Oh, Jason, I'd say you had a silver tongue but that would be a lie. It's solid gold, or maybe even platinum. See you Friday."

A thought hit me. "Monica, may I talk to your husband?"

"Of course, dear. Hold on just a second."

He came on the line pretty quickly. He must have been right beside her. "Hello, Jason."

"Good morning sir. Let me ask you, have you ever fished Holloway Mountain?"

"Are you kidding? Your rods have to be gold plated just to get past the gates. I'd love to fish those streams, but I've never seen a trout worth that price."

"And that's one of the reasons you're so successful. I have an opportunity to fish there Sunday. Would you like to come? It wouldn't cost you a dime and I'm sure my friends would enjoy fishing with someone new. They say I irritate them. I think it's because I don't take it as seriously as they do. I call it their Fish Head mode and it irritates them no end."

"Seriously? When I hang up, I'm going to slap Monica for not giving birth to you. What time?

"We need to meet at the resort no later than six to get as much time in as possible. Can you do that? Oh, and I think Monica has plans for me that would be illegal if we were related, so give her a big kiss instead."

" I bow to your wisdom. My tongue will be massaging her tonsils as soon as we disconnect. I'll be there with bells on."

"Don't. It would scare the fish."

I heard her giggle and his laughter as they disconnected.

Two hours later, I got another call. "I hear you sabotaged my plans for Sunday."