Young Genius Rhonda Royce

* * *

There was a stir in the general office and some of Rhonda's personnel craned to look into the room to see what it was. Reception called a warning to all departments; just three short bursts on the fire alarm bells. Masquerading as a 'test" it was a warning that a VIP had entered the offices.

Rita called to everyone, "Please tidy your desks and look tidy and intelligent and busy."

"Well done Rita," Rhonda grinned, tidying her room quickly and combing her hair and attempting to look intelligent although no one had mastered that art but it was understood to simply close one's mouth and not look vacant was sufficient.

Ten minutes later the company president Richard Lane could be heard announcing in the general office, "Everyone today we welcome the celebrated former top fashion model Celeste Williams-Ryan to our agency."

The impressed personnel applauded and almost groveling Richard led Celeste, looking most attractive in a gold dress, into Rhonda's department.

Rhonda hadn't expected the visit and was glad she'd reported to Richard she was pitching to get appointed to run Celeste Williams-Ryan's fund-raiser that would capture big attention because it would be a national appeal. By reporting that, Richard should not have been caught unprepared by Celeste's unannounced appearance.

Rhonda's team boggled that the VIP had come to see their leader. They heard it all.

Richard made the introductions and the two women appraised each other.

"Oh so young," Celeste sighed and almost blushed in pleasure when Rhonda said, "You look younger than I had expected. I could find no recent images on our computer and I tried The Clarion but they posses no recent photo of you in their files."

"Well these days I prefer to keep my profile out of camera range."

Celeste turned to the president and said, "Miss Royce was too busy to come and see me so I have come to her."

The older woman appeared impressed Rhonda didn't offer an apology and didn't appear hassled.

"Oh Mrs Williams-Ryan, I do apologize on behalf of the company and..."

"Mr Lane, Mrs Williams-Ryan is simply playing with you, teasing. She couldn't resist coming in to see if the person who has presented her with such on outrageous proposal looks capable of pulling it off."

"Outrageous?" Richard muttered.

"Yes very outrageous Mr Lane," said Celeste. "Acting on the trust's format, set after they sought extensive advice from professional fundraisers, Miss Royce was advised my campaign would run on a budget of $400,000 with the goal of raising $4 million. But according to Miss Royce the social conscience of every community is such that if promoted adequately and with a budget of $4 million, she is confident the campaign could benefit research into birth deformities by fifteen million, perhaps more."

"I see," Richard said. "And where would that $4 million funding come from?"

"Well under my proposed scheme a large number of companies have been approached by the trust and have collectively promised to donate a dollar for every dollar raised to a maximum of $4 million. You clever Miss Royce suggests we call in that four million dollars to kick-start a much more ambitious campaign to raise fifteen million plus."

"Ah, very clever although the donors might not think so unless they could be assured of a massive amount of money being raised," Richard mused. "Ah Rhonda, who did you consult to get that fifteen million dollar-plus estimate?"

"No one."

"Ah, please would the two of you accompany me to my office. We need to talk privately."

The outcome of that discussion was Richard trying unsuccessfully to turn Celeste off Rhonda's proposal that included such things as Celeste using her status within the modeling industry to be photographed with four top international models with the rights to use that photo in promoting the campaign. Celeste thought that was a brilliant idea and Richard agreed but insisted no way could a person predict fund-raising revenue by taking a number off the top of the head and then expect to gain credibility for that notion.

* * *

Mark, dressed in his smartest suit, paced around, looking every thirty seconds or so at his watch and frowning.

He'd repeatedly ignored his mother's requests to sit down and relax. Finally Celeste snapped and shouted, "Charles get us a drink and Mark sit here beside me or go to bed!"

Mark looked surprised. "What?"

"You heard."

"You can't send me to bed at my age."

"For fuck sake will you be quiet?"

Mark looked astonished, as did Charles arriving with the drinks on the tray. Both stared as Celeste.

"What? Why are you gawking at me?"

"You used the F-word."

"Charles, don't lie. I never swear. Stop it you two. I'm so nervous."

"You?"

"Stop it Mark. Stop it, stop it..."

The doorbell rang.

"Saved by the bell," Charles grinned. "I'll go."

He returned, smiling hugely. "Look at this beauty I found on our doorstep."

Mother and son gaped.

Rhonda wore a little black dress, purple leggings and black crossed-strapped shoes with high glass heels. Her hair was piled high, she was heavily made up emphasizing her searching bright blue eyes and she wore a purple choker. She looked gorgeous.

"Call me Celeste darling. This is my husband Charles and I understand you know my son."

"Yes and hi everyone."

Rhonda acting very sophisticated for one so young, kissed Celeste lightly on both cheeks, kissed Charles on one cheek and kissed the astonished Mark on the mouth and then stood alongside him, attaching to his arm.

Celeste looked at the handsome couple, probably thinking goodbye Charlotte.

Time just flew because everyone enjoyed the evening so much.

The fare was fairly simple, good for weight-conscious people, but beautifully cooked and presented and everyone drank the white and red wines sparingly.

Celeste practically grilled Rhonda about current fashion for women of many categories and appeared satisfied that the child knew fashion.

Rhonda explained, "Most of my leisure reading is about fashion. I like keeping abreast."

She then had the embarrassment of seeing her hosting family eyeing her breasts.

Charles said, "You must have lots of eager young men on your doorstep."

"If I do then I fail to see them. I remained too busy at college to race through my compacted study program, devised because the assessment committee decided I appeared gifted, and since then if anything the tempo has picked up so I have been unable to look for an assessed man to choose a suitable partner. In the meantime Mark will have to do."

The family gaped at the audacity of the 20-year-old.

Mark choked, "But I have a girlfriend."

"Think of history Mark. Some girlfriends never stick."

Celeste said thoughtfully, "Yes Mark, I suggest you reconsider your position on this."

CHAPTER 2

Mark decided to hold on to Charlotte simply because he understood her better. He'd found it difficult to accept Rhonda's non-stop chatter, suppressed energy and complicated utterances. He concluded she would exhaust him and dominate his social life.

Pleased about the wisdom of his mature thinking behind his choice, although knowing he'd left sexual appeal from the equation, Mark was horrified when his department professor took him aside and said, "Mark I'd like to suggest something to you. This Charlotte you bring along to our social gatherings, my wife tells me she and the other females don't accept this Charlotte as being one of us. I think that assessment is rather profound and possibly prophetic, don't you?"

"Yes Evan, very significant. Thank you for sharing this wisdom?"

Christ, though Mark, choking. This was America, not cloistered England or Hungarian academia. What the hell was happening?

He grinned evilly, thinking he'd fix those constipated prattling tarts. He'd bring along Rhonda and toss her into their midst. It would be much alike placing a wildcat into a dovecote. He chuckled his way back to his cubicle that insanely was called an office.

But seated, a bit more blood flowed to Mark's brain and he chocked. Christ what the Prof had been telling him was his pathway to a possible tenure would be blocked by 'this Charlotte' who had been deemed unsuitable by senior wives and girlfriends. Mark came close to panicking. He had to dump Charlotte and forget about Rhonda.

He then though phew, that had been a close one. He'd take along some new girl... His mind numbed. What girl? Taking along a female student would be frowned upon and why take along a female instructor and possibly assist her in betting a leg in ahead of him? Ah, mommy. His mom knew heaps of classy women with classy daughters. Saved!

Mark stared at his uncooperative mother in disbelief.

"I don't care if it's short notice and the monthly drinks evening is this evening. I repeat, take Rhonda. No way will I assist you to place another female ahead of Rhonda until you convince me she is unsuitable for you."

"Mom, you don't understand."

"I think I do. You suspect Rhonda will not roll over for you at the click of fingers as Charlotte does."

"What are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter. You know you have my final word on this, take Rhonda."

Mark called Rhonda.

"Sorry Mark I have Friday drinks here at the office. Some other time perhaps."

"Christ Rhonda my entire career is at stake."

"Mark I've heard some of the stupid pick-up lines guys deliver but that line is utterly absurd."

"Rhonda, believe me, this is so desperately important to me. What time do your office drinks start?"

"Four-thirty."

"Thank Christ. Our start at five-thirty."

"I see. Okay give me the address and I'll arrive before 6:00."

"That won't work. You'll need a pass."

"Goodbye Mark."

"No wait; I'll have one couriered to you."

"Very well."

At the pretentiously named 'soiree' the wife of his senior professor asked, "What without Charlotte tonight Mark?"

"I-I thought a c-change was in order, Mrs Michaels."

"Oh very wise Mark. An upgrade I would hope?"

"I would hope so Mrs Michaels."

She drifted away and Mark wiped his sweaty palms inside his pockets.

He sweated for the next twenty minutes.

Then Mark almost fainted. There was a stir in the gathering as in walked Rhonda, dressed in a bright yellow tunic than finished just below her hip line, almost matching yellow tights, lime green shoes and lime green choker and her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders.

"Ohmigod, it's Rhonda Royce. Come over here darling," cooed Mrs Michaels.

Mark blinked furiously twelve times before his brain slipped into gear. Of course, Mrs Michaels was CEO of her family's company that owned seven women's fashion stores in the city. He smiled in satisfaction thinking what a superb choice he'd made.

After greeting Mrs Michaels Rhonda turned to spot Mark and called, "Mark, over here darling."

Every woman in the room stared in disbelief as if thinking how could dull Mark know such a stunning young female the age of a sophomore? Word quickly spread that Rhonda was the hot-shot new recruit at Beck, Lane and Russell Advertising and was responsible for promoting the UGLY brand of clothing that teenagers and early twenties had taken to by storm.

Rhonda kissed Mark lushly and then took his arm possessively and said, "Sorry about that interruption Mrs Michaels, you know of course Mark is Celeste Williams's son; she calls herself Celeste Williams-Ryan these days.

"Celeste's son?" Mrs Michael gasped and looked at Mark with new interest.

Mark and Celeste went to dinner later and then Celeste invited him to her new studio apartment for coffee.

"It's my first real home away from home."

"Your parent live in the city don't they?"

"Yes, my father Tony is the Royce in Farmer, Royce and Zimmerman, public accountants, and my mom Malvina teaches history at Mt Edmund High. I moved out when I secured this job to enjoy new-found freedom."

"Like inviting guys home?"

"You'll be my first male guest since I shifted in six weeks ago."

Rhonda checked her phone for messages and found one. "It's from your mom early this evening. I'll put it on speaker."

Celeste, speaking very sadly, said she had bad news. The trust had rejected Rhonda's proposal as being too radical and too risky and were concerned about there was no evidence that the appeal, run as Rhonda proposed, would raise anything like fifteen million.

"I'm sorry dear. I have just arrived back from the meeting in Chicago. I told them I backed your proposal because I thought it would capture the heart and minds of women and they'd give millions but I'm afraid that went down like a lead balloon. I am to remain the campaign figurehead and a conventional proposal from an agency in San Francisco with offices all over the country was accepted."

Mark said he was sorry too.

"Why be sorry? Rhonda asked. "In this profession you win some, you loose many more. Being creative is a matter of being creative, not attempting to balance wins and losses and hoping to come out ahead. I just try to win each proposal I submit and then look for the next challenge irrespective whether I win or lose on that submitted proposal. It's the only way forward."

"I hope some of your optimism rubs off on me."

"Oooh thinking of rubbing me are you naughty boy. Come on let's rush to my home."

Mark got his mouth closed and ran to his vehicle, yelling to Rhonda to wait for him outside the main gates. She was of course parked right outside in a no parking zone. Apparently the signage on the vehicle, B.L.R. Advertising Agency, provided some sort of immunity from being towed away by university security for being parked illegally. Those guys were paid a bounty on every vehicle they placed in the compound.

"Oooh, nice pad; very feminine."

"Yes this building is being redeveloped by a client of my father's. I got in when they were still doing the interior finishing and was allowed to choose décor colors.

Rhonda almost fell to the floor in helpless laughter when Mark, inspecting the bathmat size bathroom yelled, "You haven't room in here to unhook you bra."

He made coffee and she said he was so clever to find the chocolate cookies and the chocolates.

"The coffee was beside the machine and I had only a choice of three cupboards to find the cookies so I didn't find it challenging, even if I am male."

Rhonda decided she really liked this guy. He always had an answer every time she delivered an aside, not like some guys who reacted as if being mentally challenged when thrown an aside.

She could feel him watching her and then sent little shivers through her. When she drained her coffee cup and put it down he pounced, grabbing her.

"Oh Mark," she shrieked excitedly, exciting him. He slammed his mouth against hers for their first real kiss and slammed a hand over her left breast, almost winding her.

"I'll put it out for you," she gurgled.

"Please do."

Rhonda couldn't remember a guy being so polite. She unzipped the back of her top and unclipped her bra and at the same time opened her mouth to receive his tongue. God he was out to fuck her first date. Did she have a problem with that?

She didn't know.

Mark slobbered over her exposed breast, working up the nipple.

Rhonda yanked out the other one to avoid getting the first one totally saturated. He rammed his face between them, grinding in his chin and making obscene Brrrrrrrrrr Brrrrrrrrrr sounds and she came close to climaxing and yelled, "Pull down my panties and fuck me you beast."

Wow. What a fuck. It was hours later before Rhonda felt she could walk a straight line.

The guy had been awesome. She'd almost fainted when seeing the huge red and swollen cock, thinking it was much too big for her but afraid to express such concern in case the was received as a rejection and the boner deflated and she'd miss out on what she wanted.

But no, they both grunted and wriggled and heaved and it went in, making her feel beautifully bloated and god, when it began withdrawing and returning she was almost driven up the wall as well as almost going through the headboard.

When his face turned purple and contorted and he began sucking in great gulps of air she knew he was coming and yelled for him to squirt on to her belly.

Squirt?

He hosed her belly, tits, face, hair and splattered on to the headboard.

Ohmigod, thought Rhonda thoughtfully. How many trillions of sperm swam to early death in that flood?

Mark had apologized and grabbed a towel to remove most of the mess and then had kissed her so tenderly. He then whispered he was sorry to have messed her so much but she had overexcited him and had been so unbelievably tight he'd ejaculated out of control.

Ohmigod, this was her first true fuck with a seducer actually paying homage to her. Ohmigod!

Rhonda had been so overcome she heaved on to her hands and knees and yelled so was ready for doggy. Mark had groaned but once he got it up hard he was quite okay and almost banged her into tomorrow although it had been just after 10:30 when they started. Rhonda was used to guys who went at it in short bam-bam fucks. Her Mark just went on and on until told it was time to stop.

Awesome.

When Rhonda awoke in the morning he was gone. She found a note that she'd always treasure: 'Gone home for rest. You must be the best fuck on the Planet. XXXX M.'

Oh wasn't he such a lovely man?

Rhonda went home as pre-arranged next day to lunch with her parents.

"Ohmigod darling," Malvina said kissing her daughter, "you look radiant."

"Mom I'm in love."

"But you can't be. You never have time to date men."

"We always have time in our lives for everything mother, providing we are prepared to compromise."

"Ah so you gave him your virginity?"

"Oh that went ages ago mother."

"Not ages ago. You only turned eighteen just over two years ago."

"What has eighteen to do with anything?"

"A young woman is not sexually mature enough to have sex until she is eighteen."

"Did you say twelve?"

"Rhonda!"

"Just teasing mom. You keep on believing your urban myth."

"Don't tease your mother like that Rhonda."

"She likes being teased dad; you should try it some time. How old where you when you first had sex?"

"Twenty-three," he said, ignoring his wife's giggling and aware his clever daughter would already know he was twenty-three when she was conceived.

"God you dyed in the wool conservatives are a joy to converse with," Rhonda smiled.

"Tell us about this young man," said her mother.

"Well he's an academic."

"Oooh," said Malvina, a high school teacher who almost fell off the sofa when Rhonda calmly said Mark was the son of former super-model Celeste Williams.

Walking into her apartment Rhonda took a call from Mark.

"Hi, mom says she wishes to apologize directly to you and the alternative is she'll come to you or you come to Sunday cook-out."

"Oooh, please tell her I accept the cook-out offer. I've had three wines over lunch with my parents and so I best come by cab because you father is chief of the DA's office."

"A wise decision. Come now or later if you have work to do."

"I'll put on my second load of washing and then will fiddle. Expect me around 5:00."

"Great. God you were awesome in bed."

"You also but is that your only interest in me?"

Mark managed to get creative. "No I'm crazy about your brain."

"Oooh. See you later lover."

* * *

Anticipating other people would be there Rhonda dressed up and arrived in jeans, sandals, a scooped neck printed cotton top and a mohair poncho. Her hair was in a ponytail and she knew in doing that she'd look about seventeen.

Celeste met her at the door and they kissed and hugged and Celeste said she was so, so sorry.

"Thank you, it was a bit of a blow," Rhonda lied, having known what to expect after her learned boss's negative reaction. Well at her age she had to expect to be on a learning curve.