Lesson # 9
A tune-up now and again never hurts
“I heard every single girl needs a maintenance man in her life.” -Sonja Petrovic
Lynn
My eyes fluttered open and gazed at a ceiling I was slow to recognize. The delicious aroma of pancakes wafted pleasurably up my nose and made my mouth water something awful, like seeing Dane naked, sprawled out on my bed, or the feeling of Simon pinning me up against a wall with his hands on my ass and his cock between my thighs. Ugh! I wriggled beneath a toasty cover, horny first thing in the morning.
“Look who’s risen from the dead.”
When I sat up, I spied Bobbi in the kitchen in a pearlescent white silk robe with her hair tied up in a festive orange wrap, stirring what I assumed was pancake batter in a bowl.
“Morning, sunshine! Sleep well?” she asked across the open floor from the kitchen to the living room.
“If by sleeping well, you mean passing out on the couch and not remembering when you did it, then yeah. I slept great.” I sat up straight, still wearing the dress from the day before. A heavy patchwork blanket slid off my lap and fell to my feet in a heap. “Smells good. What’s cooking?” I wiped the sleep from my eyes with my hands.
“I’m making blueberry pancakes, because everybody loves pancakes, right? There’s bacon, if you want it. I can make sausage upon request, and there’s orange juice, tea, and some coffee brewing.”
“Aren’t you a regular Martha Stewart?”
“Hey, Jay likes me for more than my looks, sweetheart. A woman’s got to be multitalented these days if she wants to stand out from the pack.”
“You’re definitely doing that, let me tell you. My stomach is doing flips right now. I don’t think I ate anything yesterday except for half an orange.”
“That might explain why you passed out in the middle of our conversation last night. I just figured you were exhausted from all the craziness, but delirium from starvation?” She giggled and turned back to cooking.
“Yeah, maybe.” I stood up, feeling groggy, and stretched out my arms. “Need any help?”
“No, thank you. Besides, guests are guests in my house, at least for the first couple of days. Then you become a boarder.” She licked blueberry pancake batter off her finger. “Once you become a boarder, that’s a whole new ballgame. That’s when you clean like I expect you to clean, and obey the rules of my house. Either that or you pay rent, then you can do what the fuck you want.” She chuckled. “And speaking of boarders…”
Sonja moseyed down the stairs in a thin white t-shirt two sizes too small. It had to be the worst one yet, clinging to her body like a newborn baby monkey trying to prod its mother for some milk.
“Girl, if you don’t put some clothes on I’m going to kick you out in the cold with exactly what you’re wearing, have the maintenance man do something with you!” Bobbi sassed.
Sonja stopped at the end of the stairs. “Is he cute? I heard every single girl needs a maintenance man in her life.”
“He’s old, like in his fifties. I’m sure that’s not the maintenance man you had in mind.” Bobbi let out a breath. “Why do we keep having to tell this girl to put clothes on?” she asked me.
I shrugged.
Bobbi gave me a look like I was no help at all. “Sonja, do you see that small chest by the couch?” She waved her finger in that direction. “I keep a pair of sweats in there for when it gets chilly. Can you pull those out and put them on please and then take a seat at the table so we can eat breakfast? My pancakes are starting to get cold.”
Sonja grinned, reached in the wicker chest, and did as directed. “Happy now, Mother?”
“Yes, tremendously. I almost lost my appetite watching your cooch wink at me while you were coming down the stairs.” Bobbi shivered. “Later on we are going to have to discuss some house rules, because if Jay was sitting down here while you paraded around half naked, I’d have a serious problem with you right now.”
Sonja shoved a forkful of pancakes in her mouth. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about that.”
“Apparently not, but it’s okay. We’re all women here. It’s just an adjustment, that’s all.”
“Bobbi, do you mind if I call the hospital before I sit down? I want to check up on Simon, see if there’s been any change.”
Bobbi and Sonja gave each other a look. I wasn’t quite sure if I liked it. “Sure, sure go ahead. We’ll wait.”
Sonja shoved another forkful pancakes in her mouth. Bobbi shot her a glance and she stopped eating. “What? I’m hungry.”
When I picked up the phone and tried to draw up the nerve to lie again to get an update, I noticed several notices on my phone for a missed call and four very lengthy missed texts from Dane last night. I sent a reply: I’m okay. At Bobbi’s. That was it, because my fingers would cramp trying to explain the whole night, and I was sure I’d see him later to explain.
Simon’s status hadn’t changed. He was still in the clear as far as any permanent damage was concerned, but he hadn’t regained consciousness, and the doctors couldn’t figure out why not. I hung up. I was no longer really in the mood for breakfast, but knew I had to eat something or I’d be useless for the rest of the day.
After we ate, Sonja and Bobbi cleaned the dishes and wiped the table down while I sat on the couch and took a moment to call my parents. They had to be concerned and probably pissed after I had pawned them off on Dane so I could stay at the hospital without being bothered.
“Hello?”
“Mom? I see you’re answering dad’s phone again. This is becoming a habit.”
She giggled. “Oh, Lynora, we were just talking about you.” Giggle. “Carl, stop it. You’re so naughty.”
“Mom?”
“Sorry, dear. Are you all right? Me and your father were worried sick about you last night.”
“It doesn’t sound like you were too worried. What are you two up to?”
“Tell Lynora where we are,” shouted my father with a joy in his voice I hadn’t heard since…well, never.
“She just asked me that. Hold your horses, tiger. Lynora?”
“Yes?”
“Still there, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m still here. I can hear you just fine.”
“Oh, okay, we’re taking a drive along the coast. Your father and I are having a great time.”
“Coast? There’s no coast around here. What are you talking about?”
“We’re in Carmel, honey. We were in Santa Cruz earlier today, but there were so many people, we decided to come here instead. It’s a lot better here, more our speed. Dane helped us rent a car. He would’ve given us the limo, but your father insisted on driving. He’s so stubborn, but I can’t fault him for it. This was all his idea to go on a spontaneous road trip. It’s so beautiful out here.”
I was speechless for a second. It almost sounded like my parents were on… “A date? Are you two on a date?”
“Oh, dear, that sounds so…so high school. Your father and I have been married for twenty-some-odd years. We’re beyond dating at this point, but if you want to call it that, then yes…yes, we are!” My mother started giggling again.
The static got so bad I could barely hear what she said next. She kept giggling and giggling. It was weirding me out and kind of gross. I couldn’t envision what my father was doing to her. Then the line went dead. Thank God!
“It sounds like your parents are having a grand old time,” said Bobbi, grinning over her coffee mug.
“Hush it.” I rolled my eyes as her and Sonja laughed their asses off.
I figured it was time I called Dane.
Lesson # 10
Obstacles are there to be overtaken
“My older brother was nothing more than an obstacle, however frustrating he was.” -Dane Foster
Dane
I grew up believing my father was someone else. Until I was fifteen years old I thought the man whose DNA I shared was a good-for-nothing motherfucker
without a penny to his name or a job to earn one. His name was Darien Griess. I not only had his last name, but I shared his affinity for women. He could charm any woman right out of her panties before she had considered kissing him. He was very good at that…unfortunately.
I should’ve known better than to think I could’ve been made from the same stuff as that con artist, but of course I only knew what I’d been told. Over time I came to think I should’ve figured it out and put two and two together long before my mother broke down and confessed the truth. After that, she vanished, running away from my stepdad someone she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.
During my childhood I had gone to the best schools, private schools mostly. For a time, I hadn’t cared to figure out who was footing the bills. There were martial arts classes, baseball in the spring, football in the fall, and a host of other programs. All strategically chosen to improve me as a person.
I was made to believe Darien somehow always provided, regardless of the fact our living situation was unstable and we barely had enough food to eat. That was part of the “sacrifices” he’d made for me—investing what little money he had into my future. I had no clue there was someone else behind it all, a puppeteer pulling the strings, running the show like the Wizard of Oz, someone like Cornelius Foster. I grew up to harbor deep resentment toward my mother and her conniving con artist husband from that day forward.
I pulled my Aston Martin up to the security checkpoint in front of the Foster Venture Capital building and showed the guard my ID. He knew who I was, but one could never be too careful when money was involved, as my real father liked to point out. And money was always involved—in fact, several million on the line any day and any time.
The sleek black vehicle hissed along the pavement and descended into the underground garage of the Foster building, a glossy, glassy, metallic work of architecture. It was one of the newest and tallest buildings in the city and housed several different companies, from high-powered law firms to real estate developers to financial corporations, all handpicked, scrutinized, and vetted. Not just anyone could do business in our building.
I entered the lobby and nodded at a woman at the front desk. She smiled brightly, familiar with my face. I loped to the elevators with a determined stride. As I rode the elevator up, I attempted to wipe all negative thoughts from my mind and calm the anger I was feeling and the confusion in my heart. Emotions like that had the ability to cloud my judgment, and I was going to see my father. I had to be sharp and on point.
Cornelius Foster was one tough son of a bitch, and I was still getting to know him, but we seemed to be made from the same stuff. He was a natural-born leader, an aggressor, an alpha male…like me. He gave me no leeway just because I happened to be his son. However, because I happened to be his son, he had put me in a position to succeed in life. He demanded no less than greatness from me, as I expected from myself. He probably expected the worst, but I intended to show him I could excel. In fact, it had become the sole purpose of my existence to prove to my father that I was worthy of his pride and admiration. We had years to make up for of not knowing each other.
As far as his relationship with my mother was concerned, I only knew what my mother had told me. My real father refused to speak of it, and I didn’t blame him. It was in the past and I should be looking ahead to my future. I wasn’t the type to explore feelings about matters of the heart or anything else too deeply. Bad shit happened. People like me suffered through and got over it.
With Lynn, though, I found that things were different. My mind returned to the sexy, crazy girl and everything that had happened over the last few days. If only she could only see what I could see for us in the future and understand what I knew about life, all it had to offer. More importantly, what I had to offer. If she were less stubborn, things would run a lot more smoothly. She’d be by my side supporting my endeavors or taking up a position at the company. It would be fantastic. We’d build an empire together. I could almost taste the success. Everything would be as it should.
Yet I had to contend with her fruitless obsession with Simon. He was a tick on my ass, an irritation beyond words or explanation. A selfish, greedy part of me wished he would stay in a coma forever, become a fading memory to be forgotten altogether. But the last thing I needed was for that to backfire and for Lynn stay by his bedside for years, blaming herself for what had happened at that party and how it affected Simon leading up to his “unfortunate” accident.
My older brother was nothing more than an obstacle, however frustrating he was. I had gotten past worst hurdles before. Lynn and I were destined to be together. I knew it in the depths of my being. It was as clear as clear could be to me. Everyone else needed to hop on board and see it too, and stop getting in my way. Let it be what it was supposed to be.
Lynn still wanted to be with me, and that was clear, but it was also clear that she wanted to be with Simon, and that was something that I couldn’t take. It wasn’t in my nature to share. When I was a kid I had played on my own, scavenged for myself, and achieved my accomplishments with little to no help. What was mine was mine. The deplorable situation had to be remedied. With me, it was all or nothing.
I considered relationships like a business, in many ways. Relationships only worked when everyone knew without a doubt who was the boss and who owned the controlling stake in the company. One of us had more to lose than the other. The problem with Lynn was that she hadn’t realized the stakes at hand. She hadn’t realized what she stood to lose if I got fed up enough and walked out of her life for now and forever.
I blamed it on her youth and how inexperience could make a person miss out on the important things in life. Careless and immature, the young were driven by hormones and emotions. My libido was in good working order, but under very restrained self-control. It took more than a flash of tits and ass to derail me, and as for emotions, they had no place in making logical, rational decisions.
I forced thoughts of Lynn out of my mind again. There’d be time to deal with her after I dealt with my meeting with Cornelius. However, I resolved I would indeed have to deal with her. There could be no more of this back-and-forth bullshit she was playing. My infatuation with her had much to do with allowing the fickle behavior to go on for far longer than it should have, but decisions had to be made.
The elevator door slid open. I pulled at my suit coat and made sure my collar was straight. Presentations are always important to people, even if they see you every day. Walking into this office always made me feel good. There were smiles from the ladies, nods from the men, and handshakes from those who thought kissing my ass would advance their careers. It was both funny and ego stroking to be treated like I was treated at FVC. (Unfamiliar, in some ways, because though I had always been treated with respect, it was a new experience to be treated with deference.) I ate it up, because there was a time where I didn’t know where I belonged.
“Good morning, Mr. Foster. How are you today?”
“For the hundredth time, Lisa, you can call me Dane. It’s okay, I promise.”
“I know, I know, but I feel like if I start calling you by your first name it’ll become a habit, and what if I call you Dane in front of your father? You know how he feels about that.”
“Ah-ha, point taken. But you’re a smart cookie, and he trusts you. It’s your job to not make mistakes, so I doubt you’ll have any slip-ups. I mean, I can trust you with a secret, can’t I?” I winked. It was a habit and part of my charm; I couldn’t help myself.
“Being trustworthy is a quality that I possess. Yes, you can trust me…Dane.” She lowered her head like she had something important to read on her desk, but I caught a schoolgirl blush spreading across her face.
“Is he in?” I nodded toward the door in the hall.
“When is he not? Coffee?”
“No, not today, thank you. I’m hyped enough as it is. I don’t need the extra caffeine to boot.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll ring him to let him know y
ou’re coming.”
“No.” I put my hand over hers. It was a reaction to stop her from pushing the button on the intercom. I retracted it quickly. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to, umm—”
“No, it’s okay.” Her blush deepened, and she smiled, her eyes giving me an appreciative once-over. “I, uh—just go right in. He’s not scheduled for any meetings. He should be free to talk, but I’d knock first, if I were you. Dealing with surprises isn’t his strong suit.”
“Yeah, mine either. Talk to you later.”
“Bye, Dane.” She waved, wiggling her fingers.
As I approached my father’s office door, I felt a sinking feeling deep in my stomach. It was the usual feeling I got, making myself nervous, working myself up, putting pressure on myself to make a good impression every time I saw him. I didn’t know why I did it to myself, but my father had extended to me a wealth of responsibilities and opportunities, and I was determined not let him down. I didn’t plan on doing it in the future. He was the only living person whose opinion I cared enough about to modify my behavior. I wasn’t the take-orders subordinate type. Authority was my middle name.
I raised my hand to knock.
“Come in,” he said, before my knuckles rapped the door.
Fucking Lisa, she told him I was coming.
Lesson # 11
Golden is the wisdom of elders
“Correct me if I’m wrong. I’m not immune, it just rarely happens.” -Cornelius Foster
Dane
My father’s office was a sight to behold. It was grand in scope, about the size of an impressive loft apartment. A wall of windows was behind him so he could catch a stunning view of the city by simply turning around in his chair. There was art on the walls that collectively cost more than my car; oil paintings, portraits, water abstracts, some hand-drawn sketches by artists I wasn’t familiar with. But art really wasn’t my thing.
Teacher's Pet - The Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 28
