by Lulu Pratt
“Well? What did you think?”
“I’ll be honest. I’m not a huge fan of Clay Carter, and seeing a Spark Plugs game without him was kind of pleasant.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Charlene. “He’s a bucket of old crawdads, far as I’m concerned. All pinchers and muck. Gimme the older, sexier guy any day.”
“Agreed,” I said.
“So,” Heidi said. “I know I suggested maybe we could have a drink, but I have to work tomorrow, Scarlet. Can we have a rain check? This weekend?”
“Happily,” I said. “I have to work too.” It was a lot of fun hanging out with Heidi and her two sidekicks.
“Good night, girls,” I said, heading back to my office.
“Good night, Scarlet,” they said in a three-part harmony chorus.
Chapter 32
SCARLET
IT WAS WITH a great deal of trepidation that I returned to my office, mainly because I was terribly afraid of being caught doing something that would cost me my job. The rules around this sort of thing were strict, but when it came to the gray areas, it was actually pretty difficult to know exactly where the line was. Sauna was a legitimate way to apply heat to an area that needed it, and so this was a legitimate way to make it work. It was not unethical to go in the sauna with the client, for safety and for support, or even to apply some movement. However, if one were to engage in any sexual activity, that would contravene the rules, and so I made a clear note of that in my somewhat margarita-addled brain.
I unlocked my office and went in, leaving the door open. It was late at night and there probably were cleaners around, and I didn’t want to rouse suspicion.
Some part of me had convinced myself that Harrison was working with me in every way, that we were simpatico, as the Spanish would say. But the longer it took for him to arrive, the less I felt that way.
“Good evening,” I heard someone say, and saw that it was a man with a mop and a bucket on wheels, cleaning the hall floor.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Scarlet. I work here.”
“No worries,” he said. He was a youngish man, maybe early twenties. He looked at me, sitting guiltily behind my desk, and furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Dennis. I work here too. I clean after hours. I guess the management don’t really want me interacting with the other employees.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, it’s tricky to answer that,” he said, his chin resting on his mop end.
“Give it a try!” I said.
“Okay. I’ll do it. My guess is that I was in jail for a while, and this is a work-release job. So, the less people I run into the better. Less chance I’ll re-offend.”
“Oh. How long were you in prison?” I inwardly winced after saying that. Had I just broke one of the rules of etiquette.
“Got a four-year bit, so a little more than two years. Lost my family, lost my kid, lost my friends, lost my job…”
“What did you do before?”
“I worked retail, but you know how it is — once a thief, forever a thief.”
“Are you a thief?” Now, I was inwardly slapping my forehead.
He laughed. “Actually, no. I was got for some more embarrassing things.”
“It’s okay,” I said, wondering how I got into this conversation. “You don’t need to elaborate.”
“Actually, this is the first real chat I’ve had with a person who wasn’t in prison or working for the prisons in three years. So, it’s nice.” He smiled broadly, revealing a very attractive smile.
“Well, I’m glad. Anyway, Dennis, it was very nice meeting you. Feel free to talk anytime we meet. I’ll probably be here late again.”
“Sure thing.” As he said this, I saw behind him that Harrison was approaching at a trot. I guess it took a little longer to get finished after a game than I expected, but it seemed he was interested. “I’m gonna move to the next floor, Scarlet, if that’s okay. I’m done here.”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
Harrison was at the door as Dennis moved to the elevator.
“I think we’re alone now,” I said, echoing the Tommy James and the Shondells song, or Tiffany, depending on your taste or age.
Evidently, Harrison understood, because he smiled and arched his eyebrow. “You mentioned heat on this arm? It’s aching like the dickens.”
When I heard him say this, I suddenly recalibrated all my expectations. He was taking this seriously and I was the one kibitzing. Shame on me!
“Oh, okay. Tell me what hurts and where.”
“Right here,” he said, indicating his elbow. This was strange, but not unheard of, since the weakness caused by the operation on his shoulder could cause extra strain on other muscles near it because they were overcompensating.
“Okay, well, we can deal with that with exercise, or we could try the heat. Which would you prefer?”
“I believe you promised me a sauna.”
I smiled. Yes, I did. I got up and began walking down the hall to the sauna. Harrison followed me after I swiped my access card. When we got to the room, we both entered, and took towels from the rack. “It might be a good idea not to remain dressed. You get pretty sweaty. And the metal parts of your clothing could burn your skin.”
“Understood,” he said, taking his clothes off. I also began to undress, and within a minute, we were both naked with towels around our bodies. I noticed that during this process, Harrison took the effort not to look at me. I wondered why.
“Shall we?” I said, opening the door. I followed him, smiling.
He sat near the heat source, and I sat opposite, on the other side of the heater, and poured a ladle of water on it, causing a hissing steam that filled the room. It was suddenly very close, and I kept ladling the water onto the heater until the room was completely filled to the point that for a moment I stopped seeing Harrison. I could hear him gasping for air, which was a sign that this was working.
“Hot,” I heard him say.
“Yes sir,” I said. “Let the heat get into your bones. That is how this works.”
“It’s hard to breathe,” he said.
“It will pass. That is the worst part. Just relax and let’s see if we can loosen the muscles that are seizing up. I believe it will work.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I closed my eyes and leaned back, taking note of the temperature, and feeling the sweat streams roll down my chest. It felt very good, and a little bit erotic. After a few moments, after the red tinge that everything I saw turned more normal, I opened my eyes to see Harrison sitting beside me.
“Well, hello!” I said.
He smiled. “You look very nice.”
“So do you,” I said, noticing the powerfully cut muscles on his chest. In fact, now that I seemingly had the permission to look at him in depth as a physical therapist, I took the time to examine his body. There was a small incision near his shoulder that was healing nicely, but no other weird cuts or scars, tattoos or moles. He was actually remarkably beautiful, even naked. His towel had slid down so that it was exposing his crotch, but still covering his penis. For that, I was grateful. However, I felt the rising of my blood, making me warmer than I already was, and giving me a sense that he reciprocated these feelings. I was not stupid enough to assume these things, though — consent is consent — and so I did nothing but appear flustered.
“Are you all right?” he said, putting his hand on my hand.
“Fine,” I said. But I wasn’t fine. I was very stressed.
He held my hand and massaged it gently. I noticed it was his right hand, his left hand staying by his side. He took my hand and turned it over, touching my palm. A stirring went through me again, and I looked into his beautiful blue eyes.
Self-doubt was one of those things I have in spades, I realized, and so I began to wonder if I was not attractive to him.
But then he kissed me.
And my world went crazy!
Oh my God!
His lips were so soft and so sensual. I felt myself getting aroused, and the surging of emotions, the flying around of those amazing feelings took over my body. I kissed him back and murmured, “Harrison, this is wrong.”
“Maybe,” he said, smiling. “But it’s our little secret, isn’t it?”
“You sure?”
“Positive!” My towel slipped and he moved his hand to cup my now-exposed breast, and the feeling increased. I wanted him so badly. He took a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I melted.
We continued kissing for several minutes, during which time I did nothing but feel the amazing sensations that were floating through my mind and body. He pulled me closer to him, and, reaching around, moved me on to his lap. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t resist. It was stunning.
“Is it wrong that I want you so much?” I whispered.
“How can it be wrong when it feels so right?” he asked, lifting me above to his now-rigid cock. I was hovering above him, and knew he would be slowly lowering me on to him. I started breathing heavily.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked.
He smiled and pulled one out from under his towel. “I was hoping you would be asking if I had one.”
I took the wrapper from his hand and carefully tore it open. I got on my knees and slowly unrolled it along his erect cock. I looked up at one point, and he was biting his lip trying not to smile. I then returned to his lap.
Harrison was very strong, though, and he held me in his powerful arms, slowly lowering me onto him. His cock was hard as a rock and it stood absolutely straight up, so that as I was lowered onto him, it went inside me, deep. I began to have sensations of glory and joy that left any sense of guilt of what we were doing and where behind. The gentle motion, like a rowboat, rocked me into a peaceful moment that would then burst forth like the sun from behind a rain cloud, and the fireworks that could only be brought about by a man who knew what he was doing.
And Harrison knew exactly what he was doing. He moved so that he was over me, while I rested on the wooden bench, cushioned by the towels, and he drove into me with great strength but also with a reserve that gave it the tension that would make me want to orgasm. I fought it every inch of the way, but the sensations washing over me were stronger and stronger, and I was unable to control myself.
Afterwards, I questioned whether my guilt made me come so much faster than normal, but at the time I didn’t care. I just wanted to explode with a fiery passion that would give our world a color I had never imagined.
And so I did. I was afraid I screamed. I then covered my mouth. Was anyone still here?
“I’m so sorry!” I cringed.
“It’s perfect!” said Harrison with a smile.
I was laughing at the lack of control and the amazing feeling I had coursing through me. “I think there is a guy here.”
“Holy shit!” he said, pulling out immediately, and getting up on wobbly legs.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “It’s just that I met the cleaning guy earlier, and he was done but still in the building, and if he heard a scream like that blood-curdling thing, I think he would come running with a mop in his hand.”
“I’m sure I could take him,” said Harrison with a smile as he toweled off and began to dress.
I just sat there trying to recover. Harrison was completely dressed by the time I rose and wrapped myself in the towel, as well as the little white towel could do, and the door suddenly opened with a start, and, just as I had suspected, Dennis was there.
“Everything okay here?” he said, looking at Harrison and at me.
“Yes. We were just finishing off some heat therapy. Thanks, though,” I said, sweetly, moving to the change area.
Dennis didn’t even look directly at me, as though he had been traumatized. Instead, he turned and looked at Harrison.
“Anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like Harrison Brett?” he said.
“No. I never get that. But thanks.”
“It’s uncanny!” said Dennis, as I got dressed. It was the strangest feeling in the world being naked, even though my back was turned, from two men who were talking and neither of them was slightly interested in me.
“But you really look like him. I just seen him pitch a near-perfect game, and he was in the pink, man. You could be his body double.”
“Well, thanks. Dennis, is it?”
“Yeah. What’s yours?”
“Uh…” Harrison was clearly not expecting this. “Look, I’ll level with you. I am Harrison Brett.”
“Are you shitting me?” said Dennis in a loud and high-pitched voice. “I been wanting to meet you for years. Holy shit!”
“Wait! This isn’t the best time, but can I ask, why?”
“I don’t know. You’re like the Energizer Bunny. You get knocked down, but you get up again. I respect that. I been knocked down a few times myself.”
“I can see that,” said Harrison, indicating the mop. “You don’t strike me as a janitor.”
“I wasn’t always a janitor,” said Dennis. “But I got myself into some trouble and, well, this is where you end up on the bottom of the heap.”
“I hear you.”
By this time, I was completely dressed and ready to leave. “I hate to break up this bromance, but I think we best go home. Thank you, Mr. Brett, for your hard work.”
“My pleasure. You really put it to me!”
Dennis, realizing his audience was finished, slinked out of the room, and I was left with Harrison.
“That was amazing! I mean, incredible. Strictly against the rules. Here’s the thing — I am interested.”
“Me too,” said Harrison.
“I mean, in a relationship. But that would mean one of us has to leave this organization, and you are a baseball player.”
“Wait a minute. I’ve thought this through. I want to say this with all the sincerity I can muster. Scarlet, I really like you. I see a future. Sure, there are a few things that might be an issue, but I want to try. And I think, with your help, I can actually do it. Want to hear my idea?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Okay. We need to be careful right now.”
“Agreed.”
“But I am getting my game back. My fastball was ninety-four miles per hour tonight, and I threw an amazing game, and I threw the whole game. I am committed to working hard, and getting back to the Majors. Once there, there is no problem and we can be together.”
“That’s true!” I said. “Okay, then. But no more of this, right?”
“Well…” he said with a smile.
“Look, you have to work tomorrow, and I need to work on my arm. Let’s go. So long as I know we’re on the same page, I can work with this.”
“Amazing.” I moved to kiss him, and he sidestepped me.
“Really. Nothing more on the premises. Come to my place, alone. Tomorrow night.”
“Okay,” I said, unused to being the one who needed to be told to have patience.
Chapter 33
HARRISON
I LEFT THE sauna feeling more and more like I was getting into something that would be really hard to get out of. Not that I wanted to, but there were some questions I still had about Scarlet and her… background. I was unsure how to find out if she was somehow related to me, since she didn’t seem to want to find out the truth. And yet, if she were my half-sister, how could I possibly be involved with her? It was too weird. Too creepy.
That night, I had interesting and weird dreams about this situation, and woke up the next day even more perturbed than I had been before we met. And yet, I had that yoga class to go to, as well as a meeting with Scarlet. Things were going too fast. I needed to put the brakes on. So I called her.
“Good morning, Scarlet. This is Harrison.”
“So good to hear from you. What’s on your mind?”
“I know this sounds crazy, but I have this horrible feeling your mother had some relationship with my dad, and my dad won’t talk about it. Is t
here any way you could find out the truth?”
“What exactly are you afraid of? You think they had a kid together? You afraid I am that kid?”
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but what if it’s true?”
“Harrison, it’s not true. Believe me. My mother would never cheat on my dad.”
“You told me your dad left right after she left my dad’s employ. Am I remembering wrong?”
“Look, my dad was a deadbeat in every sense of the word. He left before he even met me. As far as I know, he literally left a pregnant woman…” Her voice trailed off as she heard herself.
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat there, waiting for her to say something.
“It’s just not possible!” she said, her voice breaking.
“I hope you’re right.”
“One second,” she said. I heard typing frantically on the computer keyboard. “Wow.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Look at him. Your dad looks like me. Oh Harrison, this can’t be!”
“I hope it isn’t, but I need to know.”
“Where is she?”
“The Ukraine,” I replied.
“The Ukraine? Really?”
“Yes. Really. She left when I was really young. I always thought she left when I was three, but I’m not sure that’s true anymore. I need to get more details. It’s just something I need to find out.”
“Okay. Wow. I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“You know, one thing I can say is that I look nothing like my father. Nothing at all.”
“Meaning?” she asked.
“Not meaning anything. Just pointing it out. I mean, he is a short, dark-haired, dark-eyed white guy, and I have light brown hair, blue-eyed and tall. And I have none of his features.”
“You think Roger Brett’s not your father?”
“What? No! I never said that. Although… I was just… wait. What?”
