Pauline

"Sorry, honey dear. Previous commitment."

Her tone softened. 'All right. But after this I expect a lot of commitments to be with me. Are you positive they're gay?"

"As a matter of fact, they've invited me to help broaden their horizons. It should be very educational."

I heard her sharp breath. "You're a bit of an ass; anyone ever tell you that? If I thought for one minute the least little bit of what you just said was true it would mean I'd have three asses to whip. I doubt seriously you need further lessons, but if you do, they will come from me. Understand?"

"You don't own me."

Her laughter went on for a minute. When she got her breath back, I could hear the smirk. "You keep on thinking that. It'll make the chase that much more fun."

"Yes, honey dear."

"Good. I'll see you Monday."

Rob insisted I call him by his given name, since we were off the clock. He met us at the resort and I thought his eyes would pop out of his head when he saw who got out of the Range Rover. The ladies were in tight jeans and long-sleeved tops because the weather was still a bit cool, but even in their waders they would have turned heads.

They got him over his nervousness by talking about fishing and particular flies they were fond of using while I pulled the equipment out of the boot. The guide we were using introduced himself and got us into some little off-road vehicles. I grinned when I noticed he had the girls in his cart while Rob and I followed in another.

It took almost an hour to get to the stretch of stream we had been assigned, and another twenty to rig up. In a move that disappointed the guide greatly, Carmella decided I would be her partner and Les would fish with Rob. We fished until eleven, then broke for lunch. We'd all caught fish and some were a decent size, but this stretch was designated catch-and-release so we didn't get to keep them.

Rob became even more impressed when we were taken to a little shelter twenty minutes up the trail that had full amenities. Lunch was an impressive choice of rack of lamb or roast duck, both with veggies designed to complement the meat. There was even a small dessert.

We all ate sparingly, not wanting to carry a heavy load as we balanced on rocks, but it was hard. We stayed for about twenty minutes after the meal, enjoying a coffee and relaxing. When it was time, they took us to another, larger stream, with a lot of deep pools and impressive runs. I partnered with Leslie while Carmella took Rob.

We talked as best we could while we fished. "He really likes you, Jason. I think he has a lot of plans for you, even if you and his daughter don't click. He's worried about her and he thinks someone like you would be good for her. She's used to being the biggest fish in the pond and she's never been exposed to anyone who swims with the sharks. He thinks you scare her a little and he loves it."

"He's a good man. I think a lot of him. I think I make him a little nervous, as well."

The shadows were getting long and we were about to pack it in when we heard the shouting and whooping going on. Les and I walked down the stream to find Rob grinning like an idiot. He'd caught a 25-inch, 14-pound trout: according to the tape and scales, the stream record. Most would have taken it home and mounted it on a wall, but after the pictures were taken, he gently put it back in the stream.

"It was the catch of a lifetime," he said as he let it go. "I want another fisherman to experience the same emotions I felt when he hit."

They later printed out the pictures for him on professional quality paper. One went on the lodge wall. He framed the one of him holding the fish flanked by two supermodels and knew better than to hang it at home, so it hung on the wall behind his desk. It was the first thing anyone saw when entering his office..

He got about fifteen seconds of fame when he was featured in the big catch section of Fly Fishing Magazine, the same phot,o of course, with a glowing commendation for releasing it back into the wild. He kept a couple copies in his office for years and if he needed a calming moment, he would pull one out and look at it.

Monica seemed a little left out, and I had a thought that next time the girls were home, there would be a spa adventure in her future. Pauline didn't know what to think but in the end, she decided to be happy for her father.

You would think that when supermodels travel they would have mountains of bags but for the majority of them, that just wasn't true. There wasn't really any reason for them to bring a lot because they knew everything they needed would be provided. They were fashion models, after all, and they often kept the clothes they wore, in essence becoming walking billboards for the designer. Les and Carmella carried an overhead bag each, and that was it. I took them to the airport and after kisses and hugs, they were off. It would be five weeks before they were home again.

As they were going through security, Les looked back and grinned. "Stay out of our laundry hamper! Besides, we sent it all to our service this morning. Be a dear and put away our bras and panties when they get back, will you? And don't you dare wear them, it stretches them horribly."

Carmilla smirked as an old lady beside me looked shocked. I tried to comfort her. " I can assure you, madame, I do not wear their lingerie. They're too tight and mine are much sexier. Have a pleasant trip."

*****

Marta and I caught up Monday morning.

She told me how handsome I looked, and I grinned.

"I'm glad I wasn't your date. I can fight a little, but I don't think I could have beaten the horde back by myself."

She glowed a little and giggled. "I had a lot of fun. Mark was just a friend and he was impressed when I asked him to go with me. It led to expectations, expectations that led to disappointment. Still, I was asked a dozen times for my number. I even gave it to three who seemed like nice men. I have a date Friday and one Sunday. The third had to go out of town, but we'll be spending time together when he returns. Enough about me. How was your date with the Princess?"

"It went surprisingly well. I'm starting to think somewhere under that mantle of entitlement may be a person worth knowing, but the jury is still out. Did you manage to pick up any interesting tidbits?"

She frowned. "I think there may be a little trouble in Charityland. I talked to the second tier, mostly, and they all seem unhappy. I talked to a junior accountant and he told me in so many words he felt like they were due to be investigated soon. He was a little tipsy when he told me and as soon as he started talking, he was whisked away."

"That fits into what I've managed to dig up. I think my suggestion would be to seek another charity."

"And that's why they pay you the big bucks."

Marta was a little surprised when I told her she would be going to my meeting with Pauline that afternoon. Pauline seemed a little miffed I had brought her along, as well, but by the time the meeting was over, they seemed to be getting on well. Pauline and I came to an agreement and contacted the Chairman. I suggested it might be best if I take the lead.

"Why?"

"You still have to live here and he wasn't involved in any of the shenanigans that went on at the lower levels. He was; however, supposed to be keeping an eye on things and dropped the ball. He may be useful later, so I'll be the bad guy and you'll still have an opportunity to build a bridge down the road when he may be useful."

Pauline was looking at me oddly. "How far ahead do you think? Are there any more like Marta out there: eyes and ears for you?"

I grinned. "Honey Dear, that's a need-to-know situation. I always set my goals, analyze the best way to get there and gather as much information as I can before I act. A system that has stood me in good stead."

She grinned at the title. "I have my own plans, you know. I can't reveal the details, but you'll know soon enough what they are. Let's make the call."

We set it up in her office on a conference call. We got the pleasantries out of the way quickly.

"Mr. Wells, I am sorry to inform you that we will not be supporting your charity. We do wish you luck, and there may a specific action your charity takes that we may participate in, but for now, that's all we're willing to do."

"I'm struggling here. Can you share anything, any way we can work together?"

"Mr. Wells, how much did last Friday's event cost the charity?"

"I don't have those exact numbers."

"I do. Counting the venue, the caterers, the valet parking, the orchestra and the bar, it took roughly $150,000 and you hold two such events a year. According to my sources you netted roughly $225,000 in contributions, roughly half of what it cost you to stage it. That's not a very good return for investment. Your operating costs for your charity is $3,000,000 a year, and two thirds of that are in salaries. Your CEO was pulling in close to a million, the lawyer was billing a quarter million in hours, and the CF0 was approving the amounts and set his salary at $359,000. Two of the Board members profit from contracts with your organization. Roughly 80% of donations went to operating costs. That left very little for the thing the charity was funded for, helping people who need it."

There was a little silence as he gathered his thoughts. "I would ask if your numbers are correct but I believe they are. I've asked for an outside audit that I'm sure will reveal a lot of misdeeds. The thing that sticks in my craw is the lawyer put parachutes in, just in case they were ever caught. According to their contracts, if we fire them, they get a year's salary in separation agreements."

"I would advise you to take legal action, but I doubt you would get very far. You cannot beat them in court, sir, so I suggest you take it to the people. Expose the bad actors for what they are. It will make it more difficult to get similar positions elsewhere and it might gain you a bit of sympathy with your contributors. Take a full page out in the local paper, apologize to everyone, and list the ones who damaged the reputation of the charity. Reorganize, sir, and in a year, we'll revisit this discussion."

We rang off, and Pauline looked at me. "Think he'll take your advice?"

"I think in the end he's going to get a lot of advice and a few legal opinions, but he will have to do something along the lines I laid out or the charity will cease to exist."

We kicked around the possibilities of other worthwhile endeavors, and Marta made a suggestion.

"You should look into literacy projects, both here and abroad. I think it would astound you how many people in this world cannot read or write. I didn't learn to read and write until my mother moved us to America. I was nine years old. The overheads are fairly low on projects like this, and the exposure is very positive."

Pauline surprised me by agreeing with the idea, then asked Marta to spearhead the research. "There's still a few more we have made commitments to evaluate. If there is to be an event, I agree with Jason's opinion that you should also attend. Do not mingle with us, because it they even suspect you are employed by the company they may not be as free in their opinions. Agreed? Oh, and make sure to get a few more gowns. You need to look like you belong there. God knows you're pretty enough to garner attention, and the company will defray the costs. We'll fund it under research. No more Louboutins, though. That's a bit much."

Marta couldn't hide the smile on her face as she left and I think her opinion of Miss French went up considerably. I wasn't thinking when I spoke. "Miss French, I..."

She lunged across the table and grabbed my head. I thought she ws going to kiss me until she zeroed in on an ear and bit down. Hard.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"I don't think your memory is that bad. I think we need to establish a policy here. Every time you don't call me by my name it'll be a bite or three kisses, whichever you decide is less painful. AND I WILL COLLECT! Every time, no exceptions. This is not negotiable."

I let the silence linger a little before answering. "Yes, Honey Dear."

"Better, and use your imagination. A sweetie or other kind of endearment would be nice occasionally."

"Noted. Sweetie. Sugar. Baby. I'll work on a list. Now it's time to go back to work."

We stood and she instituted another rule. Every time we were in private, I was to kiss her hello and goodbye.

"I'm starting to think I'm going to need a manual."

"I'll print one up for you. Study it. There will be tests."

"Yes, sweetie pie."

That got another kiss and a shove out the door. "Go to work. Make my Daddy money. See you Friday."

"Friday?"

"If I could reach you, I'd bite you. Yes, Friday. Did you seriously think I would let you take my parents out to dinner without me being there? You might say something stupid like, 'we're not serious' and I would end up doing damage control."

Marta was busy, no doubt setting up shopping trips, and barely acknowledged me when I got back to the office. I sat staring out the window and grinning. Miss French was about to find out that making me do something I didn't want would be only slightly less difficult than herding rabid cats.

*****

I dressed for the occasion. After all, it was the boss and his wife. A certain amount of ass-kissing would be required, and I wanted to be dressed for it. The suit I chose was one I'd had made in London just before I left, and I hadn't had occasion to wear it yet.

We met at the restaurant. Giuseppe made a beeline for Monica before he saw Rob and peeled away. Pauline wore an understated little black dress that was simple and elegant, but at the same time sexy. I recognized the designer. In fact, now that I thought about it I'd seen that exact dress on Leslie at a shoot.

"You look lovely, Miss Pauline. Very fetching indeed."

Monica stood grinning while Rob suggested we get our table. It was the Chef's table, for VIPs and special guests.

We talked in generalities and I commented on the dish we were having, saying that it was very good but there was a little bistro on the smaller streets of Milan that was even better.

"I'd love to taste it," said Pauline.

"Perhaps I'll take you to lunch there one day."

Her eyes widened and I noticed for the first time she shared her mother's dimples. "It's a date."

Rob wanted to talk about our fishing expedition, but Monica shut him down pretty quickly. "Dear, if you mention fish one more time during the evening, tonight you'll be sleeping with them."

So then, that's where Pauline got it.

He immediately changed the subject, talking about the charity search. So far, every effort had been disappointing. Pauline brought up the literacy project, and he liked it, complimenting her. She was honest, and he was surprised when she told him the credit should go to Marta because it was her suggestion.

We were having a really good time, lingering over our coffee, and then it turned to trash. One of the men Pauline had dated and dumped was at the restaurant with a date, and when he saw her sitting with her parents and a stranger and having a good time, it offended him.

Pauline let out a little gasp when she saw him. I was on the opposite side of the table and was out of my chair before he made it to the table. He'd obviously had a lot to drink because he was weaving, but his tongue still worked.

"Hello, cunt! I see you've got a new sucker on the line. How long will he last? A week, a month? Long enough to fall in love with you so you can break his heart? You're a heartless bitch, but you know that, don't you? You'll end up fucking everyone who'll pay attention to you and die old and alone! You..."

Luckily, he wasn't loud but people were starting to stare. By then, I was around the table with my hands held up. "Sir, please do not make a scene. I think you should go back to your table. Miss French obviously doesn't care for your company."

He turned his bloodshot eyes to me, something new for the focus of his anger. He opened his mouth and I put my left hand in it, poking as hard as I could. He immediately started choking and gagging and I had him by the shoulders walking him away from the table. Giuseppe intercepted me with two waiters and walked him outside, tossing him on the sidewalk. He immediately starting vomiting, my hand and the alcohol not agreeing with each other. Then he passed out. Giuseppe immediately called the police; passed out drunks on the sidewalk of his restaurant was really bad for business.

His date was crying, and Giuseppe ordered her a car. We were at the end of the meal so we left just in time to see her getting into the vehicle and him still lying on the sidewalk. Before anyone could stop her Pauline walked over and stomped his crotch with the stiletto heel of her designer shoes. Even from where her mother was standing you could hear the high-pitched whine. I took her arm and led her away, giving her my handkerchief for her tears.

"I'm sorry our night got ruined. If you don't mind, I'll see your daughter home."

Rob shook my hand with passion while Monica covered my cheeks with kisses. I didn't ask, I just drove to the condo and brought her in. I gave her a brandy to help her get composed, and we talked. I think she told me things about herself she'd never told anyone and I just petted her and let her get it out. An hour later she dozed off snuggled under my arm, so I picked her up and carried her to bed, taking off her shoes and unzipping her dress. I stripped down to my shorts and crawled in beside her. She snuggled in and I was asleep in a matter of seconds.

I felt her eyes on me and woke up. "Good Morning! Breakfast?"

"Coffee."

I dressed and set up the pot while she freshened up. She was a bit despondent and quiet as she sipped. Putting it aside she looked at me. "I had a first last night. It was the only time in my adult life that I slept with a man and still woke up clothed. That wasn't very good for my ego."

"Probably not, but it was good for your spirit. You were with a man who thought enough of you to not take advantage when you were emotionally unstable. Tell me that doesn't mean anything."

She started crying and it took me a while to calm her down. She went to wash her face and came back giggling. "I'm going to have to do the 'walk of shame' and have nothing to be ashamed of. It's a bit depressing."

"Maybe not." I went into the girl's bedroom and looked through their closets, picking out cream colored linen pants and a pale-yellow top. I grinned as I thought about what Leslie said as I went through their lingerie drawers, picking a brand-new bra and panty set. Manufacturers were always sending them things, hoping to get them to wear and perhaps model them. These were from a high-end lingerie maker in France, hand cut and stitched.

I carried them out and gave them to her. "These should fit. I'm sure they won't mind loaning them to you. The underwear is brand new. The panties should fit, but the bra is probably a size to small. It may be optional."

She read the labels. "How did you know?"

"Years of experience. You're on your own as far as makeup and hair. When you get dressed, I'll take you to brunch."

I was used to the speed models got ready and knew it would be a while with her, but she was back in twenty minutes. Apparently, she had a kit in her purse because she had on understated eye shadow, light pink lipstick and her hair was up in a high ponytail that told me her hair was as long as I had suspected.

The outfit combined with the ponytail made her look younger and a bit innocent. I quite enjoyed it.

"Do you have any idea what these clothes would cost retail?"

"No, but your look would make it worth the cost."