Mastering Maeve

by Tara Finnegan

  * * *

  By the time she had slept off her alcoholic haze, it was long past breakfast and Maeve had missed her morning duties. Bridie and Mr Williamson the Fourth, as she now had him dubbed, were in the office looking over sets of accounts when she arrived. Judging by the look on Bridie’s face, she was in a lot of trouble. It was equally obvious to Maeve that Bridie had been giving vent to her anger with Larry, as he seemed to be just as mad. This added to Maeve’s annoyance, as really it was none of his damn business; he was still just an ordinary paying guest. There was no money on the table yet. A catfight erupted between the two women; Larry looked on in stony silence for a few minutes before calling a halt.

  “Maeve, your grandma was right earlier when she said you needed to grow up. You’re behaving like a naughty toddler who threw her own teddy bear out of the pushchair. Mrs McNamara, I know I told you this morning that I thought I could turn this place around, but that was before I realised how volatile and unreliable the management was. You both need to learn to work together if you want to fix this, but I’m out.” With that he left the room.

  “You’re a spoiled little madam. I’m glad your parents aren’t here to see how selfish you’ve become, miss-madam,” Bridie added her two cents’ worth before leaving Maeve to stew in her own anger.

  Management my arse, thought Maeve, remembering Larry’s comment, more like general dogsbody and gofer. Granny calls the shots and I’m supposed to unquestioningly do as I’m told. And it’s always my fault; she never sees my side.

  After having shed tears of bitter frustration, Maeve cooled off and talked herself into getting up from the desk. She couldn’t quite believe that she was in this position. Although she still felt quite justified in her anger, she knew if she didn’t face up to the consequences of her actions, the business would be closed down. Her only option was to lay herself at Mr Lawrence Williamson the Fourth’s mercy and beg his forgiveness. Damn him, and damn Granny. What she really wanted to do was to say to hell with it all and look for work in London or New York, but this mess was of her making and she knew she’d have to fix it; she owed it to Bridie.

  Working in a small hotel in Connemara wasn’t exactly the life plan she had mapped out for herself. She had pictured herself as assistant curator in one of the national museums, putting her love of history to work. Now at best, she might get to tell some of the tourists a bit about Connemara of old. The only thing the hotel had going for it, in Maeve’s opinion, was the industrial school and laundry. There were old dormitories, classrooms, and laundry rooms in an ugly concrete annexe that hadn’t been converted for use in the hotel; they even had mangles and early washing machines. She had hoped she could use some of her spare time making that her project. But now that might not even be an option, not if the bank was threatening to foreclose the loan.

  Bracing herself, she went and knocked on Larry’s bedroom door. She caught her breath as the door opened, revealing his six foot three, muscular frame. His sun-kissed hair was still wet from his after-run shower, and his tanned face had the rosy glow of exercise, but at least he was dressed, she noticed gratefully.

  “Maeve, what can I do for you?” Larry asked, obviously surprised at her presence.

  “Um, I w-wonder if we might have a word about the funding, or is your mind made up? I’m really s-sorry for letting you down,” she stammered.

  “Let’s take a walk in the garden. I don’t feel comfortable meeting with you alone in my bedroom.” Larry put his hand on her back, guiding her down the corridor towards the front door. She felt completely towered by this big strong Texan with his stern face and piercing blue eyes. He had a solemn, determined look on his face that exacerbated her nerves.

  “Ok, Maeve, so talk. Why do you think I would want to invest my grandfather’s hard-earned money in a business when the person who is supposed to be running it stays out all night drinking and cavorting with her boyfriend, and then is not available to provide breakfast? No breakfast in a hotel is pretty serious, is it not?”

  Maeve hung her head in shame, her long blue-black curls hiding her blushing face. At five foot seven she was pretty tall, but he made her feel like a midget. She hadn’t felt so chastised since her father had been alive. The worst thing was she knew he was right.

  “There’s nobody says you can’t have a night off, but you can’t just decide not turn up when you’re scheduled to be working. What if your grandma hadn’t been here; what would have happened with your guests? It’s no way to manage a business. How can I ever trust you?”

  “It won’t happen again. I give you my word, Mr Williamson. I didn’t even know until yesterday what a financial mess we were in—it was a knee-jerk reaction and I’m sorry. I’m asking if there is any way you would reconsider your position; if not for me, then for my grandmother. Maybe even if she hires alternative staff and lets me go. I can always get a job in England or America.”

  Maeve was aware that she was begging and it mortified her, but it would break her grandmother’s heart to lose the hotel. She had been running it for years, since long before Maeve’s mum and dad had passed away. And it didn’t help her conscience to know that part of the reason for the loan now being called in was to fund Maeve’s education, as well as upgrade the premises. The burden of guilt would just be too much. Maeve already felt she carried enough guilt in her life to make her determined not to add to the mountain.

  “Do you think any American employer would tolerate you not showing up for work, young lady? I can assure you they most certainly would not.” Maeve could see he was resolute not to make this easy for her. They had walked around the walled gardens several times by now and found themselves at the door to the concrete annexe.

  “Let me at least show you what I wanted to do with the museum,” Maeve suggested, hoping maybe she might manage to wrench at his heartstrings a little. She led him through the laundry rooms, dating the various artefacts, then to the one remaining dormitory, and finally the small schoolroom. In reality, industrial schools were more for labour than classroom skills.

  As the door swung shut, Maeve noticed Larry’s eye was attracted by the old strap, used for disciplining the inmates, slapping against the door where it was hanging. It was the first time she had ever regretted leaving it there; he seemed dumbstruck as it swung back and forth. Maeve hadn’t really considered what it might be like for a tourist to see it there; most of the Irish had long since learned to accept the horror of the brutality that once prevailed in these institutions, and for Maeve, it served as a reminder never to give a state too much power. She tried to put herself in Larry’s shoes.

  “Like I said last night, they were cruel times in Ireland,” she offered sympathetically. Sadly for her though, she had misinterpreted his musings and would have been much better keeping her mouth shut.

  “What? Pardon me, I was miles away,” he apologised as she interrupted his thoughts. He became flustered and quite red in the face.

  “Oh, nothing, I was just reflecting on the horror of being an inmate here, or at any of the institutions. Corporal punishment was the norm and it was incredibly brutal. Many were severely beaten up.”

  “Yes, I heard you say that last night, and I know your grandma was in one, but even so, she suggested that I should, hmm, what were her exact words, give you a good leathering to teach you some manners. Now that I can see what a leathering means, I’m pretty shocked she would suggest such a thing.”

  “The old witch said that? How dare she?” Maeve spat. She felt totally outraged at her grandmother. Maeve’s parents had never raised a finger to her and corporal punishment was long since outlawed in schools, and rightly so; it was barbaric behaviour as far as she was concerned. “What bloody century is she living in, auld dragon? You’d think her time in the institutions should make her see that it’s no solution. The bitch,” she continued, ranting angrily.

  “It would seem that she may have a point; how can you show such little respect for someone who has given you so much? Her later y
ears should have been easy, but she went into debt to put you through school. She may lose everything and you repay her by letting her down. Just now, it’s very tempting, young lady,” Larry replied icily.

  “You don’t know my life, you have no right to judge it,” Maeve snapped. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” She saw him flinch at the coarse expression, but she didn’t care; he’d really pissed her off.

  “I’m the person who could have saved you and your grandmother from financial ruin, but right this minute I’m very glad I didn’t. Frankly, I don’t think anyone could fix your attitude, it’s all about you in your little head.”

  Larry had just gone way too far for Maeve to tolerate. She lashed out and smacked him across his face, which was now bright red, a combination of anger and the handprint she had just left behind. Without as much as a word, he picked her up and carried her across to one of the old wooden desks, sat on it, and upended her across his lap. The light leggings she wore offered no protection as he started using his big hand as a paddle on her bottom.

  “Don’t [smack] you [smack] ever [smack] raise [smack] your [smack] hand [smack] to me [smack] young lady [smack]!”

  Maeve was too shell-shocked to do anything other than yell. She kicked her legs furiously, but he simply pinned them between his so she was lying across one knee and held down by the other. She thumped at his muscular thighs with her fists, but she may as well have been a fly landing on his strong legs. She became aware that he was pulling down her leggings. The humiliation would have been totally unbearable except she didn’t have time to deal with it at that precise moment. The urgency to make the thrashing stop was her most pressing need.

  “Let me go, you bastard,” she shouted. “I’ll see you locked up for this.”

  “Let me remind you who cast the first stone,” he replied, still thwacking down on her behind. “I will have to publicly bear the humiliation of your temper; at least your marks will be hidden.”

  “Ok, I’m sorry, please stop. Please.” By now her shouts of anger had changed to cries of pain and despair.

  But it didn’t stop, not until she desisted fighting and lay prostrate across his knee, simply accepting her fate with tears streaming down her cheeks. Once she ceased struggling, he stopped spanking, his anger apparently burned out.

  Chapter Two

  As Maeve lay motionless and non-resistant, Larry began to realise the enormity of what he had done. He could sense the heat emanating from her behind and could see the deep crimson blush through her white lace panties. The masterful, self-righteous sense he had felt only a moment ago abandoned him as he realised he had effectively assaulted a woman almost ten years his junior, and one he barely knew at that. He didn’t know what had come over him. Sure, he was angry that she had slapped him across the face, but he knew his reaction was totally over the top.

  Larry’s anger slipped out of his body. He returned to his normal controlled self and his gut instincts kicked in. Fear, shame, and arousal permeated his core. Fear because he had no idea how she was going to react, shame as he knew she hadn’t a hope against his sheer size; he felt like a bully. But yet a darker shame was the arousal he felt once she had entirely submitted and stopped struggling. For that brief moment in time, this lovely young woman was helpless in his grasp and it was a high he could not articulate.

  Guilt or fear won. He didn’t know which. Once he came to his senses, his automatic instinct was damage limitation. When he took her across his knee, his only thought was to teach the little brat a lesson in basic manners and not underestimating a man’s strength. The way he saw it, she was the one who overstepped the mark in the first place by striking him across the face. She was a spitfire in need of taming. His rational brain held a different belief: she had smacked him across the face, yes, he knew that and it would be acknowledged in a court of law, but whether his reaction would be considered reasonable self-defence was very doubtful in his own jurisdiction and the fact that he was in another legal territory scared the pants off him.

  As he released her, he was already forming the contract for the hotel in his mind, willing to invest in her; not so much because he believed in her abilities, but because maybe she would not instigate proceedings against him. He had spent ten years running a very successful ranch, dealing with tough-nosed rivals and deceptive ranch hands and had learned plenty of lessons along the way, but his most valuable lesson had been to evaluate the opposition and now he was going to study Maeve to figure out his next move. There was no doubt she could now get money out of him, but he could dictate the terms if he played his cards right.

  Larry braced himself for the backlash as he released Maeve. He almost apologised but stopped himself before it was out of his mouth. That would have been as good as an admission of liability and he knew that would be a big mistake. It was smarter to watch her reaction.

  Maeve slowly and cautiously raised herself once she realised the ordeal was over. He could sense her hesitation.

  “It’s ok, honey, you’re all done. I think you know not to lash out like that again,” he said calmly, as if it was an everyday occurrence. He really hoped she couldn’t sense the pounding of his heart in his chest. As she stood, she returned the leggings to their rightful place, but not before he spied another glimpse of the red hot cheeks through the white lace panties. Straight away, he knew that would be an image that would haunt him for years to come. His dick twitched at the beauty of it. He was momentarily sorry he had not lowered her panties too, when he had his chance, but then he was horrified by his own innermost thoughts.

  Both of them stood looking at each other, squaring one another off, for a moment or two. Then Larry pulled her into his arms to prevent her running off before he got to have his say.

  “You’re a bright young woman with lots of ideas, but you have to learn to control your life. If you can show responsibility and the figures add up, I’ll back this place.” He thought he had her interest from the momentary look of relief in her eyes, but he realised she was still in shock.

  “When you’re ready to talk, we can work it out,” he promised as he tugged her in for an awkward sort of a hug. He inhaled the scent of her essence coupled with the smell of the sea, corrupted by a sweet perfume. He never wanted to forget that fragrance and hoped someday he would learn the name of it, but he knew it would never be the same on another woman, as it was her distinctive scent that excited him.

  Lawrence Williamson the Fourth knew something monumental had just happened in his life. He also knew it was going to cost him, but he realised he almost looked forward to paying the price. In his mind she was within his grasp already. He was also fully aware that in her mind he was now someone to be feared or to be paid back. While her sweet youthful behind peeping out of her underwear, blushing from his touch, was a vision etched in his mind forever, the horror on her face was another story. He wished he could wipe it clean, start again.

  “You’re stark raving mad,” she said, but quietly, her fire temporarily tamed. “You think I want to have an on-going business arrangement with you after that? How long before you try to do it again?”

  “If you keep your hands to yourself, you might encourage others to do the same,” he pointed out. “Now go tidy yourself up and wash your face. You are to meet me in the bar when you’re finished work so we can talk this through,” he added in a commanding tone. He didn’t want to give her a chance to argue, and he needed to thrash out the potential arrangement before she’d had a chance to sleep on it and her rebellious nature had time to rise again.

  He watched her unconsciously follow his instructions, standing to fix her attire and tidy her hair. She blew her nose and gingerly walked away. It was obvious from her slow deliberate movements that she was in not inconsiderable discomfort. Again he was aware of his arousal. Then shame about his excitement. She was far too young for him to be messing with, but that neat, firm, rounded bottom, and the way she had succumbed to his correction, had essentially made his common sense fly out
the window.

  The first thing he did was put a call in to his lawyer. He wanted two draft contracts, the essence of which he had already formed in his mind. One paying a small amount of damages in return for silence. Another substantially more generous one, offering to act as an investor in order to keep the hotel as a going concern and fund the restoration of the museum section. He prayed hard that the contract Maeve signed would be the latter; he wanted to keep this young lady in his sphere of influence.

  Larry knew he would probably have a better chance of getting her to accept the offer of backing if he went over her head and involved her grandmother and his father, as he knew they were both behind the project, but it had suddenly become very important to him to find a way to work with Maeve specifically. And if not, he still had his reputation to uphold.

  * * *

  Maeve returned to her room and surveyed the damage, both to her behind and her pride. Larry was going to be made to pay for this. She considered her options. She could report him to the local police, but the thought of explaining that Larry had upended her over his lap was just so humiliating. It irked her to know that Larry was probably anticipating that her embarrassment would prevent her making a formal complaint and she was playing right into his hands. Even aside from her mortification, she was afraid Sean would hear of it and go totally over the top because of his friendship with her. A letter from her solicitor would be just as difficult as she’d have to outline the nature of the assault. She’d have to think some more about it; maybe she could go to one of the big solicitors’ firms in the city—one of those no-win, no-fee types that were always advertising their services. At least they’d be anonymous.

  As she stood under the soothing shower stream, she became aware of a different type of heat. Her bottom stung, but she had a strange pleasant sensation in her feminine parts as the water eased the ache away. She felt confused by her body’s reaction. Surely this couldn’t be right? And as she reflected, she realised that humiliating and all as the experience was, she had pushed him. She had hit him first. She managed a wry grin as she made a mental note never to strike a man again, as the outcome was definitely uncertain. While she grudgingly accepted that she may have contributed to his actions, there was no way she was letting him get away with treating her like that. She was determined not to show any sign of weakness.