tagNovels and NovellasSorting Out The Smiths Ch. 04

Sorting Out The Smiths Ch. 04


Tales From Sechs City -- welcome to Sechs City, a wealthy, middle-class costal area of Western America in the state of California. A gorgeous, quiet largely uneventful place, people move to the city to follow their dreams, to live their day-to-day lives. It's almost too perfect to be true...

The sunlight that streamed through the bedroom window when Lianne woke the next morning was so bright and so warm that for an instant she thought she had slept straight through the morning into the afternoon. She was surprised and relieved to find it was only nine o'clock when she glanced at her bedside clock.

She lay back under the sheets, wondering whether she should bother getting up for another hour or not. These morning lie-ins were beginning to agree with her, now that she wasn't been woken by Lewis' alarm clock at seven on the dot. It was a nice change.

She lay buried for as long as possible before a combination of the heat and those old familiar nerves forced her to resurface. Oliver would be here in just under two hours, and hopefully everything they had discussed over the phone would go to plan.

Feeling uncomfortably sweaty, on account of having fallen asleep still in yesterday's clothes, Lianne quickly stripped naked and tied her silk dressing gown around her. The material felt cool against her skin, almost revitalising. She giggled softly to feel her nipples already standing erect against the silk. It was obvious that her body was lustfully awaiting the feel of those muscular masculine hands all over it. Even her pussy was beginning to dampen at the thought of it – god, it was kicking off early today!

Shaking herself and feeling the rumble of a hungry stomach over an equally hungry pussy, Lianne headed downstairs towards the kitchen. It all felt unusually quiet, more so than was normal for this time in the morning. The ceiling fans were all on full blast everywhere downstairs but they seemed to be doing little to relieve the heat.

Wanda was tidying the living room, folding the sheets that Lewis may or may not have used, depending on how warm it have been down here during the night. She was dressed as sparingly smart as she could be, yet didn't look about to complain for anything. It was one of the most impressive things, Lianne always thought, about Wanda; it would have to be something huge to put her off her work.

"I slept in again, Wanda," she said by way of greeting.

Wanda smiled wryly. "That's because you had no morning breath to wake you."

Lianne laughed. "That's true. Although – and right now I hate myself for saying it – I do miss that morning breath."

"He misses yours, Mrs Smith, I can tell."

Lianne sat herself carefully on the arm of the green sofa, her long legs crossed. "I know, I know. Oh, Wanda, what am I doing? Why do I have to be so stubborn...and why did I have to marry such a stubborn man?"

Wanda held the folded sheets to her chest. She hesitated before replying, "Mrs Smith, do you really think you should be talking to me about this?"

Lianne sighed slowly. She had been trying very hard to push the words she had read the previous evening to the back of her mind or out of it all together. But now they began to ring noisily in her ear. She was seeing Elizabeth in a new light now, not necessarily a perfect one, but less negative than the one she had instantly placed around her in the beginning, the one she was ashamed to even think about now. Well, even if she still didn't quite trust her credentials, there was no harm in trying to make friends now, was there? It would be difficult, she knew that, particularly with the way she had treated the young blonde.

"Is Elizabeth awake yet, Wanda?" she asked the maid.

"She got up with Mr Smith and Jack," Wanda replied. "They all had breakfast together."

"Hmm. Did Jack cook again?"

Wanda laughed. "Not this morning, no."

"So where is she now?"

"I think I heard her asking if she could use the swimming pool this morning, miss. Mr Smith said he had no problem with this. Is it okay with you?"

Lianne got up off the arm of the sofa. "In this heat? My god, you'd have to be sadistic not to let someone cool down. I'm fine with it. Thank you, Wanda." As the maid left to begin her chores upstairs she added hurriedly, "Oh, and remember Oliver will be coming along today."

"Of course, Mrs Smith," Wanda replied. "I never forget that."

After detouring to the kitchen, where she picked up a cup of fresh coffee and some fruit as a makeshift breakfast, Lianne headed towards the indoor pool at the back of the house. As she neared the door she could hear the splash of water echoing around the walls.

The pool room was filled with yet more glorious sunshine, the blinds of the conservatory windows being wide open. The Smith's pool was small in comparison to some of the outside beauties belonging to West Avenue but it was still a decent size for a hearty swim. This was what Elizabeth currently appeared to be doing, front crawling quickly through the water and not pausing for longer than a breath on the other side. She didn't appear to notice Lianne until she had swum all the way back, the two making eye contact briefly as, again, Elizabeth rested for no more than a few seconds before pushing off the side of the pool with her legs and resuming her exercise.

Lianne made her way to one of two pool chairs that were lined up by the side of the pool, one of which already held a large white towel that she instantly recognised as one of the guest towels. She sat down and placed the coffee on the small table that rested between the two chairs, beginning to peel a tangerine casually as she watched Elizabeth swimming.

Every now and again she would glance over at the conservatory, and that thrill of hers would electrify her. It wouldn't be long to wait now, she told herself, and yet this morning felt there was a tad more guilt coming through those feelings than before.

Movement in the water caused her to shift her attention from the empty (for now) conservatory and towards Elizabeth, who was climbing the three metal steps up out of the pool. As she did so, Lianne felt herself gape slightly. The blonde was dressed in a light blue bikini with a tie-me-up top around her neck rather than shoulder straps. But the material was what really caught Lianne's interest; it looked almost like PVC, the way the sunlight and the dim indoor lighting of the pool room reflected and shone off of it. Whatever it was it was tight, and showed off Elizabeth's gorgeous figure to full extent.

As the blonde walked towards the pool chairs and Lianne, the water dripping off both her young body and her previously wavy shoulder length hair, Lianne noticed for the first time a solitary silver ball resting just above Elizabeth's belly button. It seemed a slightly odd thing to have when swimming, yet also seemed to fit with the suit perfectly. One more thing to be envious about: the 'family therapist' obviously had a good fashion sense.

"You're quite a swimmer," Lianne said as Elizabeth slowed down.

"I used to be," she replied. "When I was a little girl my mother took me swimming once a week, every week. I loved it so much, you know? The way you can just float on your back in the water and forget about everything; or the way you can slice through it and feel like you've conquered an entire ocean. That's how I felt back then. But when I was older the place we went swimming got too expensive – they were bought by a private company I think – and we never found anywhere else as good. By then I was in high school and was interested in other things, but I tried to get back into it when I was older."

She towelled herself down quickly before throwing the damp towel on the empty pool chair and sitting on top of it, pushing strands of wet blonde hair out of her face.

"You know, I've worked in a lot of places where there's been a pool; I think yours is the nicest one by far."

"Thank you," replied Lianne, popping a piece of tangerine in her mouth. "We were pleased with it when we built it."

"Didn't it come with the house?" asked Elizabeth, lying back in the pool chair.

"Ha, no. When Lewis and I bought the place originally the door over there was the back of the house, the gym room, see? We built this because Lewis had always wanted a pool, and I said to him, okay, but only if I can have a conservatory to sit in too! So we had both built together."

"A real team effort," Elizabeth mused, looking at her closely.

"You could say that, yeah."

Once again Lianne felt those green eyes on her, watching her every move, and all she was doing was peeling a god damn tangerine – who knew what intimate facts about her Elizabeth could guess from this simple act?

"So...I've gotta say," said the blonde, arching her body slightly to remove the towel from under her, "we've been talking for a good few minutes and you haven't bitten my head off yet. What gives?"

Lianne felt herself beginning to blush. "Look, Elizabeth..."

"Lianne," Elizabeth interrupted, beginning to dry her wet hair with the towel. "I want you to know right now: there never was nor ever has been anything that you need to apologise for to me. You'd be surprised how many times a client of mine has given me the cold shoulder."


Elizabeth began to chuckle. "There was this one time I was in Manhattan, working for this family – I can't name them obviously, but trust me when I say they were super rich – and the wife was this fifty four year old vision of all things plastic. She'd been nipped there, tucked there; anywhere you can be 'added to' she had been. I saw photos of what she looked like before: she was beautiful, nothing wrong with her.

But her husband felt that her plastic obsession was what the problem was. I knew different – there's always something more if you look hard enough. The husband talked to me for days and days, but the wife just didn't want to know. It was as if I didn't even exist."

Lianne shifted uncomfortably in the pool chair, relieving memories of very similar thoughts that had crossed her mind only a day ago.

"Then the final day comes up," Elizabeth continued, "and the husband is literally on his hands and knees, begging me to stay longer, to help put his marriage back together. But rules are rules; my company is highly in demand and I needed to board a plane for Mexico before the end of the day.

Then, just as the taxi draws up, and I start to load my cases into the back of it, the front door of this apartment block flies open and this sobbing Barbie doll comes running out and grabs my arm and drags me back inside to the lobby, where she sits me down on one of the visitor couches and tells me everything, absolutely everything – her life growing up, her love life, her sex life, and this whole plastic obsession. I spent the entire afternoon talking to them both and they just went off on a second honeymoon."

Lianne grinned too at the thought of such lunacy. "That's actually rather sweet, if you forget the sight of walking plastic."

The two women laughed loudly together. Lianne marvelled at how more at ease she felt already around Elizabeth, and was a little worried by it. She had to keep reminding herself that this was a professional doing a job. She wasn't really a friend, not like the women Lianne had known for years who would be coming to the barbeque at the weekend.

Elizabeth finished drying her hair and placed the towel over her shoulders. Sitting up and facing Lianne she said quietly, "So tell me; why the sudden change?"

Lianne felt an instinctive desire to glance over the blonde's body in the tight blue bikini. She swallowed nervously and said, "How do you mean?"

"Well, was it something I said? Something I did? What changed your mind about me?"

Lianne looked into those green eyes, wondering whether she should be truthful or not. Eventually, slowly, she said, "More like something you wrote."

Elizabeth raised an inquisitive eyebrow, willing her to continue.

"Last night...I was really upset...I guess I wanted to prove you were a fraud. So I went through your stuff and found your work file..."

Elizabeth straightened. "I see," she said, sounding a little too cold for Lianne's liking.

"I'm so sorry...I know it was wrong of me to look at all your professional papers and documents....god, I really screwed up big time."

Elizabeth sighed shortly. "You know what, forget it. It was my fault really. I shouldn't have left them in such an easy place to be found by vindictive minds."

She had stood up and had her back to Lianne, and she couldn't see how serious she was being.

"That stuff you wrote about me...all that therapy work...how did you do it? How did you get it all without me even talking to you properly?"

Elizabeth faced her again, a short, professional looking smile on her lips. "Trade secret; if I told you I'd have to kill you, or something to that degree."

Lianne was staring out into nothing, remembering those handwritten words burned into her memory. "You got me...you got me as a person, everything about me, every god damn feeling I've had over the last three years. Everything I feel now."

Elizabeth looked at the brunette closely. "That's my job, sweetheart," she said finally. "So...do you feel up for talking now?"

Lianne felt the words literally queuing up inside her throat. It horrified her slightly; all of a sudden here she was about to tell the 'family therapist' everything and, worse of all, WANTING to tell!

She shook her head. "No, I've...I've got things happening this morning. Maybe later...maybe..."

Elizabeth nodded. "Fair enough. You know where I am."

She left Lianne trying hard to keep the straight face she'd done so well in achieving. Inside her insides leapt with satisfied joy at the success of the hidden folder. It was a desperate measure, sure, but it had been needed and being proved right. The barriers were falling heavily now.


Lewis stared at the plans for the thousandth time that morning and rubbed his eyes. He was tired, that much was obvious. Two nights in a row on the sofa combined with two full days work were not a healthy lifestyle. When anyone asked him if he was okay – his secretary, a couple of foremen – he just shrugged their comments away and blamed it on the heat.

There was no denying how hot it was in his office, even with the air conditioning cranked up to maximum. Lewis couldn't remember it being this hot for a few years, the last time he and Lianne had managed to take a break to a little village in New England.

That summer there had been record temperatures, yet the village had been almost devoid of other tourists, almost as if it was all theirs for the taking. They'd gone on moonlight walks, evening picnics, and once even managed to make slow, sensual love on one of the beaches. It had been perfection. He wished they could be there again, that they could repeat those perfect hours spent at that perfect place.

There was a knock at the door and Stan Parker came in. Lewis liked Stan; he was fairly young with a good head for business on his shoulders, despite only being an assistant to one of Lewis' architects.

"Stan, what can I do for you?" Lewis asked now, shaking the young man's hand and offering him a seat.

"Won't take more than a moment of your time," Stan said, straightening the thin glasses balanced upon his nose. "Just wanted you to look over these figures, see if they all check out okay..."

"Do you think they do?" Lewis asked, interrupting him.

"Personally, yes, but I never like to rush into things without a second opinion."

Lewis smiled. There were times like these when Stan reminded him of a younger version of himself, eager to impress, the world at his feet. "Wise choice," he said and studied the piece of paper he was handed closely. "I see no problems here, but you'd better call the guys at TTC and get them to double check the order form, purely as a precaution."

Stan grinned widely. "That's what I thought, too. Thanks a lot, Lewis."

As Stan left the office, bidding a loud goodbye to the receptionist outside, a sudden memory of a conversation he'd had with Elizabeth came flooding back to Lewis. It was something she'd said...or rather, suggested...

He quickly got up out of his chair and hurried to the office door, which was just starting to swing shut. "Stan," he called out, "you got a minute?"


Oliver had received a couple of weird requests from his clients over his career, so he wasn't too fazed by the one Lianne Smith had asked for. He parked his car several blocks away from West Avenue, taking advantage of the glorious sunshine to enjoy the walk. He soon neared the house and, after glancing quickly about to see that the coast was clear, made his way down a path that led towards the large back garden of the Smiths.

As he passed the back wall and was about to turn down into the garden itself he suddenly found his path obstructed. The obstruction was not an altogether unpleasant one.

"Good morning, are you Oliver?" asked the blonde bombshell.

Oliver breathed slowly through his teeth as his eyes took everything in. "Yes, ma'am, that's me."

"Wonderful," the woman beamed. "Because I've got some news to give you that you might be a little interested in..."


Lianne kept looking at the clock that hung on the conservatory brick wall. Where was he? Oliver had never, ever been late, not once for any of their appointments. If there was going to be bad traffic he'd have left earlier. Surely this simply change of route to the house wasn't so horrible that he'd get lost – not even Oliver was that simple.

She had been so very careful to lock everything up behind her – not just the conservatory door but the pool room door and even the back door from the kitchen. The blinds were down over the large pool room windows. There was no way she would be disturbed from her massage today, not even for Oliver's famous glass of Coke and ice.

The table was already set out and she was sitting on this now, still in her black silk dressing gown. The one difference between hours earlier and now was that she felt much fresher all over her skin, having quickly dived into the pool naked after Elizabeth had left to cool her body down. Her long brown hair hung in wet strands down the back of her body, and her skin still felt moist and refreshed.

It was now twenty minutes past their original appointment time and Lianne was getting pissed off. She jumped off the massage table and was wondering whether to give his cell phone a call when a movement in the garden caught her eye. Strolling casually towards the house, a rug in one hand, a paperback book in the other, and dressed in a black bikini top and small tight black jogging shorts, was Elizabeth.

For a moment the two women stared at each other. Then Lianne unlocked the conservatory door and demanded, "Where's Oliver?"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows innocently. "Where's who?"

"Oliver. Big, tall, dumb. Where is he? Have you done something or said something...have you called him? How dare you!"

Elizabeth raised her arms up, walking quickly towards the distressed brunette. "Hey, hey, take it easy. Lianne, I'm sorry, I haven't done a thing with this Oliver person. I've not called him, nothing like that. Trust me."

Lianne studied the pretty features closely, before letting out a broken sigh. "Oh god, what's happening to me?" she asked the world in general.

Elizabeth embraced her, holding her tightly in her arms. "Nothing's happening to you," she assured her. "Shush, now. Who is Oliver?"

Lianne felt a tear stubbornly creep down her cheek as she replied, "My masseuse. He's my masseuse."

"Only your masseuse?"

"Yes," replied Lianne. "Only my masseuse. Nothing more. I've hinted...I can't believe I've hinted, but I have, hundreds of times. He never takes the hint, ever!"

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