Vision Ch. 05

"Out running, just like I said." Says mom looking at me curiously. "Lulu's been helping me make biscuits. You two help yourselves." She gives me a pointed look before she leaves us alone in the kitchen.

I take out the water pitcher and pour myself a glass. I sit an extra glass on the counter and she fills it.

"How'd you get here so fast? 64 was a parking lot."

"John Tyler Memorial Highway."

"You'll have to teach me that trick."

We stare at each other and the silence stretches. She breaks it by stating the obvious.

"You're mad at me."

"I had a real crap day, is all."

"Tell me about it?"

"I endured an impromptu 3 ½ hour meeting, had my ass publicly kicked and watched a woman I like to consider my lady, who as it turns out is my boss, flirt with her boss for over 20 minutes."

She all but hisses "A) I did not kick your ass, you'd know if I had, my foot would still be lodged there. B) I am not your boss. I work with you and happen to be overseeing a mutual project. We work together for the firm and C) that meeting ran long so that I could delegate some projects and have more time to spend with you. We got a lot accomplished.

And lastly, as you should damned well know, I don't flirt, with anyone, in the office or anywhere else. If I were so inclined, it would most certainly not be with my boss. It's hard enough being a professional woman without having the clichéd 'she's sleeping her way to the top' leveled at me, by you of all people.

And then you just up and leave with that lame-ass explanation, by text no less! If I hadn't run into you on my way out, you weren't even going to say goodbye. So, I guess I've had a crap day too."

She sighs heavily and rubs the back of her neck. "We shouldn't do this here."

I stop fixing my paper plate of barbecue and potato salad and greens. "Do what? "

She looks at me, eyes narrowed, little nostrils flared and quivering. "Fight. Now fix me a plate."

Turning on her heel she goes out to the den to say goodbye to my folks. I hear mom thanking her for buttermilk. I call out a goodnight from the kitchen as we leave.

"Good luck son." Says Pops. I hear a sharp smack. "Dang it woman!"

She's quiet on the way over, driving carefully on the dark narrow road. Having left the door unlocked I open it and we go in.

"Dax, I really do like you but we both have a job to do and if this," she gestures back and forth between us, "is going to be a problem, then something's going to have to give."

"So which is it? Did you come all this way to fire me or break up with me?

"I came here to talk."

"I'm surprised you have the time what with your quest for world domination. And your attitude today? God forbid someone question you, let alone get in your way."

"I am a fucking lawyer, that's who I am! I'm not about to apologize for that. It's not going to change because of this . . . whatever this is. If you disagree with me, fine. But when we have work to do, I don't have time for bullshit. It's business. It's not personal. You need to leave that shit on the field."

"Not all of us are able to compartmentalize so neat and effectively. You don't define us but you want - what? Blind obedience? I will not be your fucking lap dog Lou. This, whatever this is, as you so eloquently put it - is starting to feel one-sided with the odds heavily stacked in your favor. Kick my ass all day long and then wanna go home and cuddle like nothing's wrong."

"I'm not asking you to be my blindly obedient lap dog. But I can't do 'us' at the office. I cannot and will not, for my sake as well as yours.

I've been working my ass off to have enough time to spend evenings with you, and I'm ok with that. One of the many things I love about you is how un-threatened you are or seemed to be, about what I do for a living. Don't take that away from me."

Her voice goes small with that last statement and just like that I'm over it.

"So, there are things you love about me?"

She looks away. Taking the foil off the paper plate, she smiles a little. "Homemade potato salad, can't master it for the life of me." She tucks in, eating ravenously.

"You didn't eat lunch today?"

"I was busy. I had a couple of protein bars and like 3 biscuits when I got here."

"You know you need to eat proper meals, Lou."

"No. What I need, is you." Her fork pauses mid-air and she claps a hand over her mouth.

I stop eating and look at her my heart is tripping. She takes a breath and continues.

"Especially in the office. I need you to be on my side, at least a little bit. There's a lot of intellectual property work and unlike you I don't have a computer science/engineering degree. They are taking a big chance on me letting me handle this deal and you've been giving me great guidance, really. Because I'm not a tech lawyer, I was winging it big time before we hired you, knowing just enough to be dangerous.

The business world is a boys club and the tech industry is no different. Especially who we're currently representing and when my short, black-female self shows up, they are quick to intimidate or try to anyway, and so yes I'm aggressive, it's either that or have my ass handed to me. What's galling is that no one would think twice about my attitude if I were a man. My shit has to be on point.

We had a tech lawyer but he was complete shite at it. The last time I stepped in and saved the account the client had had enough and so to maintain confidence, I was bought on board and away he went. We decided another lawyer was not the answer.

And then there was you and we were in the market for a CIO as well, two birds, one stone. Like I said, I can appreciate your never having worked directly with lawyers. We're a callous and venal bunch, so I'm sorry, if I was harsh with you but it's my job to be.

My male colleagues are twice as aggressive and no one bats an eyelash but I'm expected to be Mary-fucking-Poppins. I'm always told 'be nice Lou'. Even you do it and for the most part I let it slide. But when time's of the essence I don't have time to edit for tone."

"Well at least you're consistent. Those emails of yours before we met . . .honestly, I thought you were a man, an asshole lawyer, but a dude."

She laughs easily. "I am an asshole lawyer, but I don't let it bother me and you shouldn't either, besides so far it's not held me back none so . . ."

"You like lording it over people."

She groans.

"I do not lord it over people. I'm just right most of the time, especially in the office. And yeah, I like being an asshole lawyer. It pays well and I like to eat.

I also like working with you; smart, knowledgeable, fair and empathetic - you. But if it means we don't get along at home . . .once this deal is done we'll maybe re-assess. I dunno. I like my job but I'm tired and ready to come in from the road. I re-did my house and these past few weeks have been the most time I've spent in it at any one time.

Who knows, in a few years or so I may not want to do this at all anymore, but not until I make partner. I'm so close I can taste it."

I'm not trying to derail her but that cutthroat side of her requires adjustment.

"What about private practice? Matt says he's been trying to lure you for years now."

"No thank you. Unreasonable opposing counsel, mandatory schmoozing events, dark over-lord judges, feeling beholden to a few fatted-calf clients, nu-unh, not the kid. I've got a good thing. I bring in enough business to feed myself well and buy a few pretty suits. I hit my billable hours and they leave me alone and I'm able to have a private life, which I especially appreciate of late." She looks at me meaningfully.

Taking her by the waist, I place her arms around my neck and look at her carefully.

"What?"

"You came after me." I smile at her, but she looks down frowning. She's doing that blushing thing though.

"So, you need me in the office but what about outside it?"

She groans, grinding her forehead into my chest and mumbling.

"I didn't catch that."

Deep sigh from her. "I do. You know I do."

"Are you still going to be mean to me at the office?"

She backs away and shrugs, and gives a funny little nod. "Yeah probably."

I sigh and look at her seeing the beginnings of a slow mischievous smile.

"But there's an upside. You know how you have days like this and it's like 'fuck that bitch man'?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, well you actually get to. Fuck me, that is." She laughs at the look on my face.

"Well, there is that. I think your behavior today might even warrant corporal punishment."

That eyebrow goes up. "It just might." She turns and walks towards my bedroom and glances back giving me a smoldering look. "Bring the sauce."

That's gotta be one of the sexiest things I have ever seen.

Mmmm . . . Yes ma'am.

__________________________

2:05 am, her face is practically in my armpit. It's difficult to reconcile this sweet and tender bundle sleeping so trustfully with the woman I wrestled a few hours ago. She gave as good as she got. Wouldn't even let me shower before she attacked me, saying she loved the smell of me.

It's been raining and even though its cooled off considerably, the air is now very humid. I'm feeling mildly uncomfortable and very sticky as there was quite a scene with the barbecue sauce.

A hot shower is just the thing. I like using her soap. Damned soap got us outed. I should probably mention it. Matt's pretty discreet, but she won't be pleased.

15 minutes and I'm refreshed and feeling wide-awake. Maybe I'll catch a little sports center. I turn out the light before opening the bathroom door so as not to disturb her, but as I cross the dark room I hear a sniffle. I turn on the lamp and she's sitting up in the middle of the bed crying and rocking back and forth, eyes and nose red, hair mashed in on one side, barbecue sauce on one cheek, crust in one eye. An adorable mess.

"Hey, hey, hey what's wrong babe?"

She shakes her head and continues with the rocking. She's shaking hard. I take off my t-shirt and put it on her.

"Come on." Scooping her up, I take her to the bathroom and sit down on the closed toilet, wipe her face with a warm rag and rock with her a bit until the shudders stop.

"I have to pee now." She says shyly.

While she's in I get another t-shirt and wait. She comes out and stands indecisively. Taking her hand I lead her down the hall. I open the front door and move my rocking chair out of the corner and place it by the screen door.

We should be safe from the mosquitoes and get some fresh air. I sit us down and she throws her legs over the arm of the chair. I kiss her forehead and rock. I feel another quivering sigh, but she's relaxed her grip on me and is drifting off to sleep.

"Don't leave me Dax."

Softly said, but heard as clear as day. I stop rocking. I stop breathing. But looking down she appears to be asleep. Her eyes open sleepily and she looks at me dazedly.

"Yeah?" She mumbles sleepily before drifting off again.

I resume rocking, tucking her head under my chin. My leaving upset her. Seriously upset her.

"I'm not going anywhere."

--

I wake up to her sniffing me, sucking at my neck before biting me. Always with the biting, she'd devour me if she could I think.

"Someone's frisky this morning."

"It's this house, this bed, your bed. Mmmmm . . . everything smells like you, it's like you're everywhere, all around me. I love it. It's like having a threesome."

Has she done that? I don't get too far with that train of thought though as she's rubbing her cheek against me sliding her hand inside my boxers and biting my shoulder.

"What can I do for you?"

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, stuff."

Rolling over quickly for a condom, she slides it on and is on top of me just like that.

"Come on Lou, it's first thing in the morning. I need to take a leak."

"You can hold it. I'll be quick, five minutes."

"No kiss or nothing huh? I feel like I should call you Mr. - just climb on me and do your business."

"You like it, now be quiet, Celie."

She has her quick and dirty little way with me coming in record time, she kisses me and skips off to the bathroom. "I feel so used. " I laugh to myself. Aggressive, she must be ovulating.

I wait until I hear the flush before going in. It's the little things about her that kill me, how careful she is stepping into the high cast iron tub, holding on with both hands, it's damned cute, very little girl. But as she washes her stomach getting off the last of the barbecue sauce she smiles at me in a very womanly and knowing way.

I step into the shower.

"I thought you already showered."

"I did, but someone decided to make me dirty again."

We manage to finish our shower without molesting each other too much. She waits for me to finish and help her out of the tub. Very concerned with falling I wonder why. Reaching for the towels I wrap one around me and start to dry her with the other. She frowns.

"I take issue with these towels. Nice sheets but scratchy towels, I don't get it."

"I'm a guy."

"You own a standing mixer?"

I shrug. Shaking her head she puts on my t-shirt and her sneakers and grabs her car keys.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" My tone is sharp, but she laughs.

"Just out front to the car, dad. We're in the woods. Jeez!"

Coffee. I start a pot of community with chicory and decide to scramble some eggs and warm up the rest of last night's biscuits. I hear the screen door slam and three seconds later she's standing in front of me looking mildly distressed.

"My car won't start. I left the passenger window open and I think there's water in the electrical system. I couldn't even jump it with the spare battery pack. I'm gonna need a ride home to get the other car, so hurry up and eat, we gotta go."

"Drive my mustang. Or better yet we could ride in together."

Giving me an irritated look. "Come on man, we don't have time for this right now. Tell me you have a blow-dryer?"

"Why would I need a blow dryer? I can see if Mom has one or I can just dry your clothes over there." Washer and dryer is the one thing I've not gotten around to here.

"That sounds too involved. Shit, and my clothes are soaked. The jacket's fine but the pants and shirt are pretty drenched. I'm going to be late. I hate that." She groans looking more peeved by the second.

"Sorry babe. Here, sit down, have some breakfast." She eats quickly, wrinkles her nose at the coffee but drinks it anyway. Chicory ain't for everybody. She eats quickly and by the time I put the dishes in the sink she's gone, back to the bedroom just stepping into her panties when I walk in.

Life with Lulu.

She puts on her bra and last night's jeans before sitting down on the bed to do her version of serious makeup: chap stick, followed by lip gloss and a touch of mascara. She takes an elastic and pulls her hair into a high curly puff on top of her head, uses my brush to smooth the edges and is done. Watching me she cocks her head to the side and purses her lips and comes over. Uh oh.

"T-shirt and jeans?" She says lifting a censorious eyebrow.

"It's Friday Lou, casual Friday, we're allowed. You're the only one who wears a suit every day, well you and Milton."

She comes over to the closet idly rifling through. "You've got nice shirts." Selecting a striped shirt she holds it against herself. "Can I borrow this?"

"Help yourself." Taking off her jeans and bra, she takes the shirt and puts it on without sliding her arms in the sleeves, buttons up the front, pulls the sleeves back and wraps them around her twice before making a bow and arranging the shirt material to somehow pleat at the sides. She's turned my shirt into a strapless dress, ingenious.

"That's quite a McGyver move." I chuckle.

She steps into her heels. Bare legs, bare arms and shoulders and back all that exposed skin. . . I'm not sure I want everyone looking at that neck and shoulders all day long.

"Desperate times man."

"That's a lot of skin."

She shrugs. "I don't have any meetings. Like you said, it's Friday. So fuck it."

No meetings, thank god, but this not what I had in mind when I suggested she go more casual. When she shrugs on her jacket I am relieved.

In front of the mirror she adjusts and tweaks, twisting this way and that. She smiles. "It matches my jacket. It doesn't look too crazy does it?"

"I'm no expert, but I think it looks fine."

She's back in the closet flipping through hangers.

"What else you got in here? These are nice. Who is this Ben Sherman? I like, I like a lot. I think I just doubled my wardrobe." She runs her hands over my Harris Tweed winter suits and looks curiously at the Brooks Brother's and summer seersucker suits and smiles.

"You do have clothes, you just don't wear them."

Ah hell.

She checks her watch. "I'll have to ride with you after-all, there's no time to swing by my place, especially with your slow-ass way of driving."

"Insulting your chauffeur, is that wise?"

"Come on man, we gotta go." She looks at her car in disgust as we head out. "I'll send Lili to deal with that mess."

Looking at my truck she grimaces.

"You need some help."

"No, thank you, just trying to figure out a non-scandalous way of getting in. I think can manage though."

Placing her foot carefully on the step and grasping the interior support bar, with a flexing of leg muscle I could watch all day she manages to smoothly step up into the cab of the truck.

I get in and we're off. "Drivin' Ms. Daisy at last."

Checking her watch again, she says, "C'mon, hurry up man. Just drop me at the edge of the lot when we get there so I can walk around to the front. I do not want people to start talkin'. I'll get Lenny or somebody to take me home or grab Uber."

She came after me, and we made up in the best way and we're back here somehow. She wants me; we've established that much. I love her but I've had about enough.

"No."

"No?"

"No, and I mean it, to everything you just said. No."

"Did you not hear what I said about doing us at the office?"

"I will park in my usual spot. You will get out and walk in with me, like a normal person. If there are questions you tell the truth. You had car trouble and I gave you a lift. I will give you a ride home after work. Simple as that. I'm not having any convoluted bullshit from you today, Lou."

I glance over to find her watching me through narrowed eyes. I hold her gaze until she flicks her eyes over me dismissively, sniffs and looks away out the window, arms crossed, muscles in her face working as she sets her jaw.

Traffic comes to a standstill. I see blue lights flashing up ahead. There's been an accident we could be awhile

She's seething. Reaching over I pry one of her hands loose and bring it to my lips and kiss her tender wrist and palm. She's grunting, pulling against me futilely trying to extricate herself.

Putting the truck in park, I turn on the hazard lights. Unbuckling our seat belts, I pull her resisting all the way, across the seat. She's pretty damned strong.

"No." She's twisting and turning her head, pushing against me.

"Yes." It takes a few minutes or so but I kiss and squeeze her until she yields. Still pouting, but it's better than frosty anger. I slide my hands up and down her legs resisting the temptation to touch the yes button. Soft, warm in my arms a little mussed.

"Soft thighs, if we were at an exit I'd pull off road somewhere and fuck you till you screamed for mercy."

"Dax?!" She finally pulls out of my arms and slides away. She's fluffing her hair and adjusting her clothes.

"Come to think of it, after last night, maybe that's what should happen every time you misbehave."

She reapplies her gloss and snorts, "it's hardly practical, we wouldn't spend much time upright."