by Ford, Mia
I laughed. “Well, it could be. But, that is one of the reasons we have our headquarters outside of town. It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere. Of course nowadays, a lot of business is conducted over skype or phone. I hardly need to be in the city that often.”
“So, you wouldn’t consider yourself a city boy?” Cora asked.
“No. Definitely not,” I said. “Truthfully, I love being out in nature. I love the country. One of my favorite places is to retire to the house we have in the middle of Tennessee and just relax there with the horses, race four wheelers, horseback riding, and do some fishing.”
“Fishing? Wow. That’s something I could never get into. It’s just so boring.”
“Yeah, but it’s relaxing. I think that’s why people do it. It’s why I do it.”
“But simple relaxing is also exciting,” Cora said. “You ever wonder why people often feel they have to be doing something, like some kind of activity, when they are relaxing. I mean, that isn’t that relaxing to me. Doing something can be fun and rewarding, but it isn’t what I call relaxing.”
I smiled with a nod. “I do understand what you are saying. My friend Ty and I once had a discussion about that very same thing. We basically came to the conclusion that so many people are really just inherently scared to death that anyone will ever be able to rightfully accuse them of being lazy, that even when they are supposed to be taking it easy or relaxing, they are still engaged in doing something meaningful and productive. So people fish, they knit, they play an instrument, they take up carpentry, golf, etc. But hardly anyone will admit that they binge watch television shows or read books to relax.”
“It’s kind of how people won’t admit that they watch TV at all, but almost everyone has several televisions in their houses and everyone has a television in their pocket now.”
“Exactly. I don’t really like to do that,” I said. “If I’m being lazy, then I’ll just say I’m being lazy. I work really hard and sometimes I deserve it. Right?”
Cora nodded. “But do you feel the need to explain why you are entitled to it?”
I burst out laughing. She was right on the money.
I held up my hand and she shook it with a goofy smile.
Yes, this evening was starting out to be fun and lighthearted. I didn’t feel nervous at all anymore.
We arrived at the restaurant and were escorted to our table. A waiter arrived just a few moments later and uncorked the bottle of champagne. The ambience was perfect. We were seated just a little bit away from the other patrons and the music wafted over to us at just the right volume.
Cora was looking around a bit nervously, but I could tell she was clearly enjoying the evening, but probably did not eat in expensive, five star restaurants that often.
The waiter poured the champagne in both our glasses and then left to give us time to look over the menu.
Cora leaned forward and whispered to me. “You remember, I’m not old enough to drink, right?”
I smiled. I’d almost forgotten that. And apparently the waiter wasn’t paying attention.
“I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t,” I said with a wink.
Cora smiled. “You aren’t trying to take advantage of me, are you?” She teased.
“I was actually hoping you might take advantage of me,” I replied.
Cora sipped her champagne and began looking over the menu.
I thought maybe that last remark might have been over the top, but I didn’t worry about it. Everything would fall into place as it should.
We settled on dinner and gave our order to the waiter when he returned. After he’d gone I leaned back in my seat and sipped my own champagne. It was exquisite.
“Do you feel a bit odd?” I asked.
The question startled Cora. “About what?”
“Well, do you feel odd knowing that our friends kind of conspired to bring us here?”
“I do,” she said. “But I guess it makes a fun story.”
“That it does. I didn’t think I’d run into you again, after the way you blew me off at the carnival,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, I did not blow you off,” Cora replied. “I was playing hard to get.”
“Were you? I didn’t pick up that vibe,” I said.
“Well, I guess I was doing a good job.”
“I guess so,” I said.
“But you didn’t try to find me again after that,” Cora said. “That was disappointing.”
“Somehow I don’t think you were sitting around waiting for me to phone you.”
“You never know,” Cora played. “Maybe my heart was broken.”
“You didn’t strike me as the grieving type. But I did think about you.”
“You did not,” Cora giggled.
I shrugged. “I did. You made an impression on me.”
“Was it my charming personality?”
“Actually, yes. You have a very distinctive aura about you,” I said. “Somehow it really captured me and drew me in.”
“Well, that may be the nicest thing that anyone has ever said about me. Most people tell me I’m kind of bitchy.”
“I’m definitely not most people.”
“Yeah, most people don’t have billions of dollars.”
“So, you did know who I was when I first met you.”
“No. I really had no clue and I didn’t care,” Cora said. “This summer was supposed to mean a lot of things to me, but meeting someone was not part of the plan.”
“I’m sorry if I interrupted those plans.”
“I’m not,” Cora replied. “Sometimes the best things in life come when you are least expecting or wanting them. Control in my life is something I struggle with. If there is something going on and I am not in control of it, I feel helpless.”
“I totally get that,” I said. “I’ve got the same drive. So does my father. It can be a blessing, but it can also be a curse.”
“That’s something we have in common,” Cora said. “Tell me, when you mentioned before about wanting to see my work, was that just sweet talk that you hoped would lead to you getting in my pants?”
I stared into her eyes for several seconds. I didn’t want to lie to her.
“No, it wasn’t. I was hoping that I’d get the opportunity to make love to you simply because you are beautiful, interesting, and I feel very drawn to you. The fact that you might also have talent would just be icing on the cake. But I’ve never tried to sweet talk anyone into bed. I feel that sex is something that just happens. It should be spontaneous and passionate. It shouldn’t be planned or manipulated into happening.”
“Interesting,” Cora said. “There is so much more to you that most people would never understand. I don’t know you that well, but I can tell that you’ve got the soul of a poet.”
I rubbed my chin and thought about what Cora was saying. Was she being sarcastic or sincere? I was still trying to flesh out these things about her and her personality. She was so open. I admired her courage and strength. At eighteen, I wasn’t nearly as mature as she was.
I kept reminding myself of her age, but I really wanted to stop. She was a grown woman, but still a very young woman, and I was a young man. Why was the six-year age gap between us such an issue in my mind? And was it an issue? Was it something I cared about because it bothered me, or was it something I cared about because it might bother other people who could find out? Would it hurt my reputation to date a woman just out of high school by five weeks?
I didn’t think I cared, but then why was I so focused on it. The thoughts kept recurring in my mind. I tried to shut them down, but again and again they came through like some kind of freight train.
“I’ve never really thought of myself that way,” I said. “Do you read a lot of poetry? You strike me as having that kind of soul.”
“I’ve dabbled in writing my own poetry over the years. I don’t think it’s any good, but it’s a great way to express myself.”
“Why would you say it’s not any
good? It’s art.”
“Yeah, so?” Cora asked.
“Well, art is entirely subjective. If you express yourself and you were able to say freely what you want to say, then that’s it. Once it’s out in the world it is going to transform and draw out of others different thoughts and feelings—different reactions. People will relate to it in different ways and have their own interpretations of what it means and what it means to them. So, get over the idea of wondering if the art is good or not.”
Cora smiled and leaned forward. “Wow, that is very introspective. I like the way you look at things.”
Our food arrived and we ate slowly, mixing in more interesting conversation along the way. I loved the conversations we were having, so much so that the idea of a “date” or the fact that this woman drove me wild with desire, became something in the back of my mind.
“I think you are wrong about that,” Cora said after the waiter took the last of our dishes away.
“How so?”
“Well, I think that most Hollywood actors are short because they look better on camera. If you have a bunch of big actors, then they take up the entire camera view and it looks awkward and not as smooth on film.”
I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten started on this topic, but now that we were deep into it, I found it very interesting.
“So, you don’t think that short people are necessarily better actors.”
“What proof would there be for this?”
“I read something somewhere that said shorter people often were drawn to dramatics and theater because it enabled them to thrive in a world of make believe where they could be whomever they wanted to be, regardless of their size. Many of them do this in normal life anyway. They act bigger than they are or more charming so that people won’t notice that they are small.”
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it, but I doubt your source material,” Cora teased.
I leaned over and with my thumb brushed the side of her mouth where she had just a little bit of garlic butter sauce from her salmon stuck there. She smiled and blinked her eyes slowly. The mood suddenly changed to something far more seductive. I could feel my body growing warm. Even the slightest touch of her skin against mine elicited a response of total lust within me.
There was an electricity between us. I didn’t think either one of us would have denied it. But Cora seemed to be so much better at playing the game. She was a woman who was seductive far beyond her years. I felt like I was a ball of putty in her hands and she was going to mold and shape me however she wished.
And I was going to be just fine with it.
“So, would you like to show me your office?” Cora asked. “I’d love to see where the magic happens.”
Looking into her eyes as she leaned over to seductively ask this question, I honestly did not know which of the multiple meanings I was supposed to take on this one.
But I had a feeling that I was about to find out.
Chapter 9
Cora
“This place is incredible,” I said as I stepped off the elevator.
I felt like I was a kid exploring one of the world’s largest funhouses. The idea had just popped into my head towards the end of dinner that I would love to see where Landon spent his days. I’d never been inside the corporate offices of a company such as his and I was beyond intrigued by the idea.
Somehow I thought that there would be something in the air…or something… I just knew that there had to be a different world behind those doors.
But when I got inside the building, it looked just like any other large office building. Or at least it did to begin with. The ground floor lobby was pretty typical, standard. But as we explored several floors of the building I began to get impressed.
There was a full gym and an Olympic sized swimming pool on one floor. There was a basketball court on another. There were huge boardrooms with brand new leather chairs that filled up the room with that sweet scent, large white boards that I could see had been cleaned at the end of the day.
And then there was the top floor, where Landon worked.
We stepped off the elevator and I was met with a large, straight hallway. It was wide, almost twice as wide as the hallway on any other floor. To the left and right I could see small offices. They were lined up like cubicles, but each one was a full office in its own right.
Finally, we made it to Landon’s office. He opened the large, double oak doors and escorted me inside.
I was very intrigued now. The first thing I saw was a large mahogany desk with a few very comfortable looking chairs in front of it. I took this to mean that he had a secretary who probably made a very good living, especially judging by the expensive looking, personally engraved coffee mugs on the desk, and the ritzy looking frames that housed several photographs.
“Wow, this looks comfy,” I said plopping down on the leather sofa in the front of the office that probably cost more than my car had.
“Yeah, it can be,” Landon replied. “I’ve often thought about crashing on it, but I do have my own sofa which is pretty soft and inviting.”
“Oh, lead the way,” I giggled.
I followed him down a short hallway to another set of double, thick, oak.
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d had so much fun, such interesting conversation, and just a total connection with someone. When the evening started I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. I’d given up on caring, on trying. It was freaking me out and bringing me to the knees of being a total nervous wreck, so I finally just let it go and decided to let things go the way they were going to go. I was letting the chips fall where they may.
And everything had finally started to open up.
I entered Landon’s office. It was almost as big as the downstairs of my parents’ house. In the far back was a huge mahogany desk, beautifully varnished a deep, dark brown. On one corner of the desk was a desktop computer. The rest of the desk was empty. The room was immaculately neat and put together. Along the side walls were dark bookshelves filled with heavy, leather bound books. It looked a little out of place in the modern age, and I wondered if these books belonged to Landon’s father or if he’d redecorated everything according to his own tastes.
To my right was a large, comfortable, leather sofa. It fit perfectly along the wall. I reached out and caressed the arm of the sofa, letting my long, slender fingers glide along the cool, smooth leather.
“This is it,” Landon said calmly. His voice was oddly quiet, although slightly uplifting. I couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed that his office was really just an office and didn’t have much to offer in terms of a “wow” factor, or at least in his eyes.
Still, it was something that I could only aspire to have one day. I thought about what it must have been like to be in charge of so many people. At first, I could imagine it would be glorious and thrilling. I wanted one day to have my own large office, to be in charge of people who were helping me to accomplish my goals, being a team leader, working in the corporate world and doing my part to add beauty and substance to the world, but on the other side the pressure to do so must have been enormous and as I stood there looking around the room I found that while I very much respected Landon, I did not envy him.
“It’s a beautiful office,” I said.
“It’s really just a room where I spend a small amount of time,” Landon said. “Most of the work is done in the conference rooms, in other people’s offices, and often on the phone as I’m travelling to other things. It’s really more a place to relax than anything else.”
“How do you stand it?” I asked.
“Pardon” Landon asked.
“How do you stand the pressure? Or is it something that you kind of live for?”
Landon looked at me and sighed softly to himself. He was trying to understand what I meant and maybe doing some introspection. This pretty much answered the question perfectly.
“It’s just the job,” Landon said. “You have to know how to leave
it here.”
He was standing closer to me now. I knew what was coming before he did, I think. I wanted him. Standing there beside him watching him reigning as king of an empire, his strong stature, his handsome face, and his strong willed charm radiating off him in stunning waves---I knew that I had to have him.
The first move could have been awkward. Would I wait for him to make it? Would I go for it myself? How would it begin? Why did it matter? Why couldn’t it happen naturally? My anxiety was building in my brain, my chest was feeling heavy, and I was starting to think that I was going to chicken out and let my nerves get the best of me. I’d been so relaxed, but now that I knew I was about to do something drastic, my nerves were sweeping in to try to shut me down.
And why? There was no rhyme or reason for it.
I knew what I had to do.
I gently grabbed Landon’s hand and led him to the couch where I motioned for him to sit down. He had a curious look on his face, and I had a feeling that it was about to get a bit more curious.
I leaned in closely to him and reached out to stroke his strong, handsome face with the tips of my fingers, letting them glide softly across the ruggedly handsome, slightly stubbled face.
A small smile crept over his lips as he leaned back against the couch getting himself more comfortable. Good… he was going to need that…
I stepped back away from him, as if walking to some unheard beat that I was listening to inside my head somewhere. I felt rhythmic, as if I was dancing along, like the music was within me moving me, controlling me almost unconsciously.
I ran my hands through my hair and down the back of my neck as my hips began to sway back and forth, letting my dress pull up my thighs slightly as I squatted down just a little bit. I kicked my shoes off and squatted down just a little bit lower so that Landon could see just the tiniest glimpse of my panties.
“That’s it…” Landon whispered. “Dance for me…”
I could see how much I was turning him on. The look in his eyes was strong, predatory, engaged in what I was doing as he watched me. He licked his lips repeatedly, almost compulsively, his hips moving and twitching slightly as if he was trying to crawl out of his skin.
