My Sinful Seductions

by Melissa Devenport

  My heart thumped loudly. Was he referring to my crush? It couldn’t have been difficult to tell that I’d worked my hardest in Mr. Lehmen’s English class.

  “So I asked myself, what might the older, more mature Melissa connect with in the working world?”

  “And?”

  He shot me a triumphant look as he pulled the little car past my building’s security gate. “You’ll see when we get there.” His eyebrows bounced up and down mysteriously.

  “Oh, you’re kidding,” I fake-groaned.

  Frank chuckled. “That’s just how it’s gonna be! I have one specific company I’m keen to show you, and the lady you’re going to meet is actively looking for a new member of the team. So, I dunno. Be open-minded?”

  “I’m not positive that’s my strong suit, but I’ll do my best. Thanks Frank.”

  We headed north, past the other condominium lots and private residences that dotted this sparsely-populated end of the city. At first, I paid no attention. I switched the radio on to a fun pop-rock channel and nudged my companion as I sang along for a few lines here and there. As the treed areas between homes became larger and larger, however, I really had to wonder where the hell we were headed.

  “You’re sure this is the right direction?”

  “Definitely. I’m actually driving you out to the middle of the forest to learn survival skills. That’s what you need right now.”

  “Funny.”

  “Nah, don’t worry, we aren’t far. Just another 10 minutes or so. Keep singing, lady. Three or four more songs.”

  “Hmm.”

  Soon, the car slowed and made a right turn onto a stunning private road lined with white wrought-iron fences and climbing flowers. Now, I was acquainted with a few very rich, very posh people in this city, but the mansion at the end of that road made my hair stand on end.

  “Oh my god,” I breathed, turning off the radio. “Is this…the Newtons’ place?”

  “Ah! Ding ding ding! Yep, you got it. I have a hunch you’ll like what Shelley Newton has going on in her home office.”

  “Shelley…oh man I can’t remember what she does. Something with gap-year kids?”

  “More or less. Let’s go talk with her for a little while and see what you think. If it’s not for you, no big deal – just don’t give her that impression. Yeah?”

  I gave him my best “Do-you-think-I’m-stupid” look and he grinned at me. We parked at the end of the driveway and stepped out onto a charcoal-colored cement walk. I looked down sadly at my casual wedges. Was I ever going to get my outfit right with this guy? Smoothing down my top, I steadied my shoulders and told myself to remain calm. This was just a meet-and-greet; no reason to worry so much about every detail.

  “Ready?” Frank offered his arm. I eyed the luxury home apprehensively.

  “Well…sure. Let’s do it. Anything I should know before I go in?”

  “Nah, she’s already looking for a candidate so she’ll pretty much pitch to you. You got this.”

  I was surprised to see Shelley Newton answer the door personally, dressed in slacks very similar to my own. I smiled warmly while Frank kissed her cheek and made introductions.

  Shelley was an attractive blonde woman in her late forties, who had both inherited a fortune from her family as well as married a self-made millionaire. Needless to say, she was set for more than life. Nevertheless, she wasn’t content to simply sit around on her very expensive sofas all day, eating from a silver tray. This was a truly idealistic, motivated woman. She shook my hand with a lovely smile on her just-barely-wrinkled face.

  “Hi Melanie, so nice to meet you! Frank’s told me so much. Will you come in?”

  Frank’s told her about me how? He must have a couple of good things to say…

  The interior of the home was even more stunning than the outside. Our shoes clicked along marble floors that gave way to classic black-and-white chequered kitchen tiles and then, eventually, the thick, soft white carpet of Mrs. Newton’s home office. It was the size of my living room, decorated in blues and grays.

  “You have such a beautiful place here,” I remarked meekly. “Love the colors. I’m currently decorating my own home based on a gray palette.”

  Shelley seemed pleased that I had noticed. Ushering us into two comfortable stuffed chairs, she took a seat behind a massive glass desk and proceeded to tell me about her company.

  “Well Melissa, I know that Frank hasn’t told you much about me or what I do here, and that’s because I asked him not to.” I cocked my head to one side, questioningly. “Not to be too clandestine, but I wanted to chance to explain my projects in my own words.” She shrugged. “You know, so there is no confusion.”

  “Oh! Okay. Well that’s understandable. So, I have heard of your company,” I offered proudly, gleaning its name from a framed poster on one of the walls, “but I’m not completely sure of everything you do. Frank says you’re looking for someone to help?”

  “Yes, I am. Hey Frank, why don’t you take a little trip to the library while I chat with your friend?”

  He stood up and put his hands in air as if surrendering. “Message received, madam! You ladies have a productive talk. Come rescue me from the Twain first editions when you’re finished.”

  As he left the office, I wondered how well Frank really knew Mrs. Newton. They were on a first-name basis, he was familiar with her home, and clearly they had a shared interest in classic American novels. Just how often was her husband at home, anyway?

  Okay, now I was nervous. This was like an old-fashioned job interview for something I didn’t understand, conducted by a woman I was slightly suspicious of.

  “So, you’ve already heard of Destination Youth?” I nodded.

  “Awesome! Well it’s a company led by me, obviously, with a very select handful of contractors and agents carrying out all kinds of tasks. The point of the business is to hook up young people with international projects in villages, towns and cities where they can enjoy themselves, learn something and help a community. So, for example, a popular program this year is in the Mexican town of San Miguel, volunteering with the local animal shelter. Mature teens and 20-somethings usually sign up, paying us to make all the arrangements. It gives them some perspective on their place in the world and helps them hyper-focus their aspirations.”

  Wow.

  “Wow! May I ask where a new member of the team might fit in? Or, I mean, can I just sign up for a project?”

  She smiled indulgently. “Of course, there are no age limits!” We both laughed. “But really what I’m looking for is someone I can really trust – that’s why I’m not advertising the job. Frank’s opinion means a lot to me so I thought the two of us had better meet. Tell me, what sort of travel and outreach experience do you have?”

  I pursed my lips. “Well, in terms of travel, I really have been all over Europe and South America, plus parts of South Asia. The usual, I suppose, for many people my age; London and Paris, Amsterdam and Berlin, Cancun, Mexico City, Rio, Phuket and Bangkok. Outreach? I’m not really sure. I mean, other than ecotourism? I paid to ‘help’ hatching turtles make it to the ocean, and made a few donations here and there.” I sighed, aware that this wasn’t making me sound too fantastic. “I think, though, I just wasn’t in that place in my life yet. Now I’m ready to start…well, making more of my life. And I was hoping to start with a career.”

  Shelley’s long, blonde, wavy hair shone when she stroked it between her fingers in thought. She gave me a look that I interpreted as part pity and part understanding. “I think I know what you’re saying. So how adept are you at making travel arrangements?”

  “Oh, I can book the hell out of a windmill on AirBnB! I know all the airlines and have a few schedules memorized.”

  “Any idea what to do when every meticulous plan goes wrong?”

  I gave her a look that said it all. “Oh my god, Shelley. Do I ever. Isn’t that called life?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I think it is.”

&nbs
p; Chapter 9

  Mexican Food and Tequila

  “So…”

  Frank looked at me with piqued eyebrows.

  “You sure know a lot of beautiful, successful women.”

  He laughed. “You know, I guess you’re right! But you know, they weren’t always that way. Even Shelley had to fight her way up from the bottom, despite her family’s contacts and financial support. No one is born a successful entrepreneur, or film maker, or real estate mogul. And nobody becomes one without really, really wanting it.”

  I nodded, thinking, as Frank drove the Lada back past the private homes and into the heart of the city in search of a lunch stop. He threw me another quizzical look.

  “Any thoughts on joining the Destination Youth team?”

  I shrugged. “It’s inspiring, for sure. And probably something I could really get into, with the travel aspect. But ultimately it will depend on her.”

  “True, true. But if you’re inspired, that’s half the battle.”

  I nodded again. “Yes. Thanks, Frank.” The time with Shelley had inflated my curiosity in developing a worthwhile career for myself, but it had also dampened my romantic hopes with the professor. I couldn’t help feeling inadequate when I compared myself to the rest of the company he kept. Where were my grand ideas and plans for the world? How could someone like Frank respect me enough to consider dating me, when to him I must seem every one of my years his junior, in all ways?”

  A little glum, I was quiet during the ride to the restaurant. Thankfully, Frank was happy to turn on the radio and pretend he didn’t notice. We pulled into the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant – his choice – and were greeted with the boisterous, festive tunes of a traditional cantina as we walked through the doors. I couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of such a choice. Nothing this man did made sense to me.

  Frank smiled at me, pleased at my reaction, and put a hand on my back to usher me to the table suggested by a server. We sat across from one another at a wooden table covered by a garish, multi-colored cloth. I threw my hands up in the air, shaking my head.

  “Come here often?” I laughed at my own question.

  “Well, yeah! What? Is this not considered appropriate lunch cuisine?” The question was tongue-in-cheek, but I knew he was covering for his lack of classic taste. In this city, there were so many beautiful places to eat. I’d never realized how accustomed I’d become to visiting only the upper-scale eateries and wine bars until these last few days. Though it had been part of my early life’s goal to simply be able to be a snob, I wondered if I was really just depriving myself at this point.

  “It’s different, I’ll give you that.” I smiled, deciding to make the most of the situation. “I assume tequila shots are on the menu?”

  “Oh, they are, and I know them well.” He looked at his watch. “I’d love to tuck into some tacos and tequila. You don’t have to be anywhere else today?”

  I remembered my impending furniture delivery, earmarked for an hour away. “Mmm…not if I don’t want to. But what about you? No classes on a Wednesday?”

  Frank removed his hat and set it on the side of the table next to the window. “Actually, no. This semester I have full schedules on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. The rest is frighteningly free!”

  I smiled and gauged his attitude towards hanging out with me for a while longer. I didn’t know him well enough to make any concrete inferences, but he seemed positive, friendly and up for some fun, so I went for it.

  “Okay! Can you order us some drinks and appetizers? I need to make a quick phone call.”

  He nodded, so I stood and walked to a quiet corner to speak with the concierge for my condo. I made arrangements to have the furniture signed for and moved into my place in my absence, a service I knew many other administrators would never consider. Once again, I considered how lucky I was to have found that particular condo. Sorted, I put the phone in my purse and sat down across from Frank. Feeling buoyed, I tapped my hands across the table to the beat of the trumpet music.

  “Hey well someone’s perked up! Everything good?”

  “Yes! Feeling good. I’ve got a whole truck full of furniture and home décor coming today, and someone ready to sign for it and pack it into my condo while I sit here and spend time with you. I’m excited! The place has been pretty bald since I moved in. It’s time for a real bed.”

  “Ha, no kidding! Well good for you, Melissa. I can see how hard you’re working to move on and get all your ducks in a row. It’s really admirable.”

  I gave him a close-lipped smile. “Is it admirable, or is it pathetic? I mean, I’m in my thirties for godsakes. I should have things figured out by now.”

  The waiter came by with a tray of shots, limes, salt and bean empanadas. He spread them out in front of us while Frank gave me a knowing look. “Oh Mel. You have no idea. This isn’t going to end, you know. The whole ‘figuring things out’ process. That’s an all-the-time thing. Hell, I’m still at it. Shelley and everyone at the bar the other day are still at it. And that’s okay, you know? Because it’s what life is about. Always moving forward and learning more about the world and yourself.”

  I thanked the waiter and looked pitifully at the tiny glasses he’d set before us. Frank laughed.

  “Okay, enough of that heavy stuff for now! Let’s have a toast to the future, shall we?”

  “Yes, please!”

  “I just want to say one more thing, alright? Stop worrying. You’re doing everything right. At least, as right as anyone else is. Got it?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “So drink up!”

  The tequila was harsh on my throat and made me shudder, but after a bit of salty lime my face stopped cringing. We had a couple of rounds of drinks while working our way through the empanadas, chips and salsa, corn soup and a plate of soft-shelled chicken tacos. The flavors of cilantro, lime, chili and cumin mixed beautifully throughout the meal, warming my heart to the cantina music and Mexican décor of the place.

  Two hours later, we were coddling half-finished, mostly-melted margaritas while discussing The Odyssey. I hadn’t thought about that stupid book since English class in senior year, but of course Frank found some reason to bring up classic literature. I didn’t mind terribly, since there was plenty of arm-touching going on as well.

  “Come on, come on,” I heard myself saying. “You made me waste enough time on that dumb story in school. Trying to write essays that weren’t titled ‘This is Dumb’ was so hard I can’t even tell you.”

  “What?! Are you kidding me right now? You’re insulting a millennia-old classic piece of writing? Based on what, exactly?”

  “Dude.” I shook my head. “If that story were written today it would star Arnold Schwarzenegger. It’s a total male-centric action flick! How can you not see that?”

  He grasped his temples with his hands, a look of complete shock on his handsome face. “I don’t know what to say right now, I really don’t!”

  “Oh, calm down. Now, look,” I said conspiratorially, leaning forward in my seat. “There’s a big male hero with muscles and glory and even a fucking crown. Everywhere he goes, it’s important that everyone knows how amazing and strong and rich and powerful he is. At the end, his prizes are a woman and…guess what…more glory. He may as well whip out his dick and tell us all how big it is. It would save us all a lot of time.”

  The waiter, stopping by to clear empty plates off our table, stifled a laugh. Frank’s mouth was slightly agape, but not a word escaped him as I polished off my margarita. “Oh close your mouth like a big boy, Frank.” I winked at him and grinned cheekily. “What was it you always said? There’s more to be found in the classics every day.”

  I plunked my credit card down on the bill and smiled triumphantly at my companion, who clamped his mouth shut and shook his head in faux sadness.

  “Well despite your bad taste in literature, I’d like to pay for our liquid lunch.”

  It was my turn to shake my
head. “No, this is on me. You’ve done enough for me today! And anyway, this was fun.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?”

  This is my moment. If I can’t interest him now, it’s never going to happen. Just get him to make plans with you – something non-professional! You can do it.

  I leaned forward and put a hand casually on his arm. “Frank?”

  He licked his lips. “Yeah?”

  “I need to go deal with my furniture situation.”

  “Oh. Oh!” He swallowed hard and brushed invisible lint from his jacket. “Right. Well…let me call you a cab.”

  “No worries, I’ll go catch one at the corner by the 7-11. Is there someone who can come drive you home?” I blinked sweetly at him, patting his arm.

  “Um, yes! I’ll give George a call and plead my case. Not to worry, madam.” He shrugged. “Sorry I can’t offer you a ride, unless you want to wait?” He patted my hand in return, somewhat questioningly.

  I just smiled, gave his arm a squeeze and stood up. “Mmm…not this time! I have things I want to accomplish today, even if I’m tipsy! But, I’ll see you again soon, right?”

  Come on, come on. Take the bait.

  “Yes, of course! Tell me, can I take you for a proper dinner on Friday? Somewhere less colorful and atmospheric, where you’re probably more at home dining? And you can let me pay?”

  Yes!

  “Hey sounds great! Text me the details and I’ll see you then!”

  Yes, yes, yes, yes!

  Chapter 10

  My Feminine Haven

  When I opened the door to my condo, I was overwhelmed at the clutter that greeted me. Boxes of all sizes crowded the entrance hall of my home, forcing me to sneak past sideways into the rest of the house. The living area was packed, wall to wall, with bright new pieces of furniture and boxes of décor items. All for me, chosen by me, and soon-to-be arranged by me!

  I was so excited I just about sobbed – then, shaking my head and remembering to be strong against the liquor in my system, I strode in among the chaos and set to work.