by J. S. Luxor
Marissa already sounds like a submissive with her response. “Yes, ma’am err, Ms. Kitner.”
I smile with gratitude. She’ll be so easy to train. I show her several pictures of Mr. Kingsfield. She seems mildly interested.
“Your meeting takes place later this afternoon. I’m going to give you clothing that you should wear to the meeting. Is that understood?” I’m using my Dom voice and she responds like a trained show dog. Matt knows how to pick them, alright.
“Yes, of course. I’ve already been briefed. Can you show me which documents you want me to handle?” At least she’s able to think ahead a bit.
I give her an overview of the real estate materials that’ll be handled by all three of us. I review the materials that will need various types of scanning, copying, PDFing, sending and so on. She’s quick to catch on and rather bright. That makes my job easier.
“Now, what should you tell Mr. Kingsfield, if he asks about where you live, Marissa?”
“I’ll explain that I’m your assistant and that I live in Portland. You’ll be returning there tonight but I’m to remain here to handle any and all paperwork or other communication issues from all parties concerned.”
“That’s correct, Marissa. Any questions?” I feel like the female warden at a prison as I take on my usual authoritarian role.
Marissa pauses and then asks in a very timid voice, “Will Mr. Frazier be looking in on me from time to time?”
“No, only if there is an extreme emergency. I’m your first contact in all matters with this deal. Right?”
She nods her head in resignation and we part shortly thereafter. I give her a few tips on how to wear her hair and makeup before she leaves to rehearse for her role.
My role in this deal involves memorizing the specifics of those documents. Matt trained me about the financing, deeds, leases and other aspects of the operation. I also happen to be familiar with the specific bay front property that’s under consideration. It’s quite an outstanding location. Mr. Kingsfield should be impressed. It appears to be a win-win type of agreement.
I look at my phone. It’s now time for me to make my way to Mr. Kingsfield’s offices. I take a Valium to ensure that I’m fully in control of my nerves before meeting him. I put all the relevant materials in a valise, as well as my IPad, and wear my best blue business attire. My makeup is impeccable and not one hair on my head is out of place.
When I arrive five minutes early, I tell the receptionist of my appointment. She looks at me with admiration. I’m fully aware of the fact that my appearance is outstanding.
“Mr. Kingsfield will be with you shortly, Ms. Kitner. Please make yourself comfortable. Would you like some water?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks!”
At exactly five minutes after noon, the receptionist signals that Mr. Kingsfield will see me. I take a breath to steel my reserve and put on my best game face. When I walk into the office, Michael Kingfield’s high backed chair is turned away from me. Hmmm, what could this mean?
He turns it around slowly and I am now face to face with a smiling, devious looking mogul. He stands and comes around his desk to shake my hand. His hands feel like paper; cold, thin and dry. He appears to be controlled, powerful and obsessive. He’s attractive but there’s something odd about him.
“Ms. Kitner, I assume you’ve reviewed the documents that we’re to discuss, thoroughly.” He’s not the kind to be dominated. Not my type at all. He demonstrates an icy, calculating demeanor. Marissa may have better luck with the chemistry.
I decide to play it straight with him. “Yes, Mr. Kingsfield. Let me give you an overview of the property,” I begin and then launch into a forty-five minute overview of the property while displaying several documents on my IPad. I also explain the papers he’ll need to sign to begin the transactions with the property owner in Portland.
He seems more than pleased with the opportunity to develop a pivotal portion of the Portland waterfront with his kind of condominium. He calls the landowner in Portland for additional details while I prepare more documents. His attorney joins us during the second hour of discussions. He peruses the contract and gives it an all clear. By the late afternoon, Kingsfield appears to be satisfied that the deal looks solid. He signs the key documents and has the attorney certify them. We shake hands after the deal has been brokered and he ushers me out of his office.
“Well, Ms. Kitner, I understand that you’ll return to Portland and that my next contact will occur with your assistant,” he states rather than asks.
“Yes, I’d like to introduce the two of you before I leave town. Will you be free in about fifteen minutes?” I keep my voice cool and clipped, like his. He nods his assent. As I exit his office, I release a breath in relief. That was tense! I’m usually the one in control of social interactions. He’s not to be toyed with. I assume Matt knows what he’s doing with Marissa and the sex angle. I pull out my PDA and call her. She’s been waiting nearby.
Marissa arrives within ten minutes and meets me near the women’s restroom. I check her over, add some makeup, straighten her jacket and comb her hair. We proceed to the reception area. Mr. Kingsfield emerges from his office as soon as he’s told of our presence.
The moment he sees Marissa, his entire demeanor shifts. He’s staring at her to the exclusion of anyone else and the look in his eyes frightens me. It’s more than obsessive, perhaps the best term is possessed. A full minute passes before he speaks again. Is he drooling?
“Please, come into my office, ladies,” he pleads and nearly falls over himself in the rush to accommodate us. Is this the same man that I spent nearly four hours with today? I’m floored at the dramatic transformation in Michael Kingsfield’s personality.
“This is Marissa Stone, my assistant and courier, Mr. Kingsfield,” I announce with pride.
“Please, Ms. Stone, call me Michael.” He smiles at Marissa in a nearly maniacal manner.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Michael.” She shakes his hand and smiles innocently. He melts.
“I guess you’ll be needing some of our technology while we work through the different phases of the Portland development?”
“That would be convenient, but…,” she pauses and looks surprised at his more than generous offer of support.
His solicitous behavior shocks me. “I’ll ask my receptionist to find a room for you to work from here at my office, while we move ahead with the construction plans.” Has lightening just struck Mr. Kingsfield?
Marissa smiles broadly and looks at him with admiration. Does she feel a spark for him as well? Things are getting out of hand quickly, here.
“Thank you so much!” I offer, but he hardly notices my voice. His eyes haven’t left Marissa’s face since she entered the office.
“Let me give you my card,” he offers to Marissa but not me. “I hope you’ve given your contact information to my receptionist.” We both nod.
I decide that Marissa’s had enough exposure for one day. Matt’s instructions were clear. “Well, we’d best be on our way, Mr. Kingsfield,” I interject.
“May I take you to dinner?” he asks. “We can discuss the highlights of the project.” His eyes fill with enthusiasm.
He’s truly a man on a mission. “Marissa and I have things to discuss, together, before I leave town, Mr. Kingsfield. She’ll be at your service tomorrow.” She nods in agreement and gives him a demure grin. There’s nothing like a little tease to keep them coming back for more.
He sighs with yearning. “Until tomorrow, then! Let me walk you to the elevators.” He bids us goodbye as though we’re his dearest family members. I’m surprised he hasn’t made an attempt to hug Marissa. This man is truly weird.
When the doors of the elevator close on us, I turn to Marissa. “What was that all about? Did you feel his intensity?”
She deflates with a long breath. “I think that he’s confusing me with his deceased wife. I’ve never felt so cherished, though. I’ve done nothing to deserve it.” She�
��s acting a bit star struck herself.
“And to think, he’s a multimillionaire falling all over himself over you…,” I restrain my next, rather uncharitable, thought from leaving my mouth.
“Well, that was the plan,” Marissa admits.
“Yes, let’s go to dinner and talk strategy,” I command. Marissa nods.
We make our way to a nearby restaurant. Marissa excuses herself to use the restroom and I call Matt. He answers my signal immediately.
“Mission accomplished. The initial documents have been reviewed, certified and signed,” I report with enthusiasm.
“Jillian, you’re efficient,” he responds in kind. “Were there any sparks with Mr. Kingsfield?”
“Well certainly not with me, Matt. However, when Marissa Stone entered the picture, Kingsfield nearly imploded. He changed from being a calculating business professional into some sort of love struck teenager. I’ve never seen anything so strange. He’s obsessed with her.”
Matt laughs heartily. “I thought Kingsfield might be interested in Marissa. Her resemblance to his former wife is uncanny.”
“You definitely knew what you were doing with the matchmaking angle, Matt. At the rate that Kingsfield’s moving with Marissa, they could be engaged by the end of the month.”
“Let’s hope she can put some brakes on their relationship,” Matt muses. He doesn’t appear to be particularly concerned about it, however.
“Where should I meet you to give you the goods?”
“Why don’t I stop by your hotel? Then, I’ll have my pilot fly you to Portland later this evening.” Matt returns to his command mode.
I end the conversation when Marissa emerges from the women’s room. I need to give Ms. Stone some advice about how she might handle the infatuation that Michael Kingsfield so apparently feels for her.
Chapter Four – Confession
MEGAN’s POV
Dr. Carl has the hospital call to inform me that Abby has regained consciousness. I am relieved and thrilled with the news. I call Matt and Paul to update them on the change and head to the hospital.
When I enter Abby’s private room, she’s sitting up in her bed with a smile. A nurse chats with her quietly. I wave and she looks at me with some recognition.
“Mom, welcome back!” I hug her gently as we speak. “It’s wonderful to see the color return to your cheeks.”
“My…Megan,” she cries as tears run down her cheeks. Abby seems just a bit confused but not much.
“You’ve finally awakened after a very long rest, mother!” I’m nearly jumping up and down with enthusiasm.
“I feel so fuzzy, Megan. My dreams were so vivid though.” She speaks slowly and appears tired.
“What did you dream about mom?” I wonder if she remembers anything from the accident.
“Oh my goodness. My childhood, your childhood, real estate sales, boyfriends, husbands. I think I had a life review while dreaming,” she shares. Her mood appears to be cautious.
“You gave me quite a scare. Do you know why you were in a coma, mom?” I tread lightly in case the topic creates bad feelings.
“My rehab therapist tells me that I was in a car accident but I can’t recall anything about it. The last thing I recall is a pickup truck crossing the median strip,” she asserts with confidence.
“The important point is that your memory seems to be returning. What will your rehab therapist help you to do?”
“I think she’ll assist me with any gaps in my ‘personal or skill based knowledge’,” she smiles as she reiterates the phrase from her nurse. I find it hilarious that Abby’s using quotes from other people to communicate but I’m guessing that’s how people recovering from brain damage learn to use their language properly again.
We both look up when Matt enters the room. He looks edible today. I flash on a memory from our reunion in my bedroom at Abby’s condominium. I stare at him with longing. His mega-watt smile appears as soon as he sees me.
“Megan! Abby, it’s wonderful that you’re conscious and talking too.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek and puts his arm around my shoulder.
“Abby, do you remember me telling you about Matt, my boyfriend?”
“No, that’s Michael. Have we met?” Abby gave the wrong answer and I cringe. Matt’s smile quickly turns to a frown. I can feel him tense up immediately. I place my arm around his waist for reassurance and hug him.
“Matt’s my boyfriend now. He’s flown all this way to see me and help us,” I explain as if to a child.
“You live in town, Matt?” Abby seems foggy and sleepy.
He seems irritated now. “No Abby, we live in Portland,” he explains and pulls me closer.
“Thank you for visiting,” she says and tilts her head as if to nap. Perhaps we’ve given her too much information. She turns inward and begins to snore.
At this point, her rehab therapist intervenes. “I think she needs to rest a bit. You’ll find that your mother will be confused and sleepy for the first few days. It’s normal for someone who’s been comatose for a bit.”
Her reassuring manner helps me put the situation in perspective. We need to give Abby time to put her memories into order. She may need training in some basic skills.
“Can we return in a few hours?” I ask with concern.
“We’ll give you an alert when she awakens again. We have your phone number. Just now, Abby needs to rest and she needs quiet time,” the therapist says and pats my hand gently as she smiles.
I look at Matt with sympathy. He certainly didn’t need to hear Michael’s name mentioned in the same context as the term, boyfriend. He leads me outside the room and we talk in a private alcove.
“I wonder if we can have her transferred to Portland for her rehabilitation,” Matt wonders aloud.
“What a terrific idea! Then I can return to work and see Abby on a regular basis.” I also realize that removing Abby from Miami will keep her from any additional damage that Michael could cause.
“Let’s look into moving her as soon as she’s capable of flying. I’ll pay her expenses, of course,” Matt assures me and moves into his CEO mode with ease.
“Matt, that’s more than generous. You don’t have to pay for anything. I think Abby’s insurance will cover most of her rehabilitation.”
Matt must really love me to pay for my mother’s care after she tried to replace him as my boyfriend. I feel more confident about our future as a couple every day. He’s proving that love means putting yourself out there for your significant other. I’m more than impressed by his generosity and care. It’s helping to convince me that love is real and not just a word people bandy about because it’s expected.
“OK, why don’t you look into the insurance issues. But, I’m guessing that her medical coverage won’t pay for a transfer to Portland, however.”
“Of course, baby. Are you worried that Michael will attempt another ‘accident’ with Abby?” I ask and feel grateful for Matt’s thoughtfulness.
He nods and looks into my eyes with concern. “Yeah, I think we should remove Abby from harm’s way!”
I feel an incredible sense of relief. He’s pulling out all the stops to protect me and Abby. “Are you going to tell me about your brilliant plan for defusing Michael’s rage?”
He lets out a long breath. “Yes, Megan so let me begin.” He tells me about the real estate angle. I’m quite impressed but wonder if Michael will become suspicious about third parties.
“Do you intend to make the deal go sour, Matt?”
“Not necessarily. It can be a win-win for both of us. However, if Michael Kingsfield starts making trouble, I can jerk things around somewhat.”
“Then, you can yank his chain but he can’t do the reverse? Do you hold the purse strings on this deal?”
“Yes, I do Megan.” He looks at me with conviction as he indicates his power and wealth.
“Is this real estate deal a peace offering then?”
“Well, it’s actually a major diversio
n, Megan. He’s drawn to real estate deals as a moth would be to a light.”
“Knowing Michael, I would have to agree, Matt. Alright, so you divert his focus from me for a while. Then what?”
“There’s a second tier to my plan. You won’t be happy to hear the rest.” He adds but looks somewhat ashamed and, at the same time, proud.
My gut clenches as I look into his determined face. “Oh no,” I utter and take a breath. Then I rest my head on his shoulder.
I open my purse and find my tranquilizers. I take one and suggest that we eat lunch before the rest of his schema’s revealed. My stomach churns with acid during our meal but the pill calms me down after half an hour. At that point, I’m ready to hear it.
