by Dakota Lee
“Did you lose that bet too?”
“Yes,” she laughs. It’s a warm sound, and I reassess my previous assumption about her being a bitch. I guess she just needed a few more minutes to get into customer service mode. “She told me that based on the search string she knew it was a younger person. Like I said, she’s always right.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re both right. An older woman asked me to research something for her. Maybe you can go dutch on lunch.”
She ushers me into a small hallway, down the corridor another hundred or so feet, and then we descend a set of stairs. We finally come to a door, where she inserts what looks like one of those mystical golden keys into the lock and flicks on the light when we step inside.
There are books and cabinets of microfiche sheets and a machine. But there’s also a state-of-the-art computer, fax machine, printer, and scanner in the room. It’s the perfect mesh of old and new research tools. “I think I’ve died and gone to journalism heaven.”
“We’re a small town, but we stay current with everything.” Pointing to a phone on the wall, she says, “Dial zero if you need anything, seven for the diner to order delivery, though you won’t be able to eat it down here. We have a designated area at the top of the mezzanine for that.”
“Thank you.”
“Good luck on your search.” Flashing a smile, she exits the room.
The card I’m holding has the file number for the article that popped up in my search. I flip through the cabinets, locating the film, and fire up the reader. I scroll through page after page. The plus side is the film is still readable. The downside is, it’s not electronic so I can’t hit Control + F to find what I’m looking for. I search for three hours before taking a break. Walking back the way we came until I reach the empty customer service desk. I’m still the only patron here. As I’m heading for the door to get some fresh air, a voice calls out a greeting.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
I turn, taking in the woman behind me. This must be the older woman the clerk was talking about. “I haven’t. Not yet. I’m just stretching my legs a bit and thinking I should get some coffee.”
“The diner on the left has the best.” She smiles then says, “Is there a specific issue you’re having with your search?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. There are way more articles than I expected for the date and year I’m searching for. It’s like every small town and settlement had a newspaper.”
“Around here they did, and then with the railroad coming through, people brought their papers for leisurely reading. I don’t know how we got to be the one archiving for seven states but we are, and as luck would have it, we’re the only one remaining with records that go back as far as they do.”
“It seems like I’ll need another day to even get through a third of them.”
“Perhaps not. I consider myself a bit of an expert on these archives. What exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can help you narrow your search.”
The clerk said she’s always right. It’s worth a shot. “I’m looking for jewelers in the area going by the name of Elcor and Cloutier.”
She claps her hands excitedly. “That little imp didn’t tell me you came in. Bet she was trying to get out of our deal. Doesn’t matter. I knew someone would show, eventually.” She points to the coffee pot on the side of the desk. “Go fix yourself some coffee. I know precisely where you should look.”
“Precisely?”
“Well, the general ballpark. My granddaughter and I are history buffs. We’re always reading, hoping we’ll get picked up for one of those trivia game shows. But those names. Yes, I remember reading about them.”
“Because of their business?” I ask, stirring some sugar in my cup.
“That, and because it was a fascinating story about the whose who in town before the boundary lines were reformed the first time around.”
First time? How many damn times did the landscape of New York change? I finish my coffee and she hands me a new card to review. I return to the room I was in, and start a new search, focusing on the society pages as she suggested.
Scrolling through more articles, I find one about Cole Elcor and Matthew Cloutier in their new business venture. The same design on the back of the compact is on the sign above their door. The two are standing side by side, smiling like the best of friends.
I fast forward through more clippings. Months later, the business is defunct. Elcor accused Cloutier of stealing from the business, and Cloutier accused Elcor of using his talent and skill for his own gain without contributing anything in return. Elcor travels south, while Cloutier stays local and continues fixing and repairing items. Finally, I find an announcement about the commissioning of a makeup case. There’s a hand drawn picture and it looks exactly like Peppers, but the customer isn’t named.
Something in the bottom corner of the screen catches my attention. I turn the dial until it’s front and center. I recognize the landmark in the background. It’s kind of hard not to, when I’ve driven past it two dozen times or so this year. The article talks about the start of the summer season and a delivery of materials that will be used in creating a new time piece for Kenneth Rutledge. That’s the name of one of the founding families of Kingsley Hollows.
I continue reading until I get to what I guess are the juiciest tidbits from the gossip pages. Broken engagements, bar brawls. Arrests and public notices about land disputes between Kenneth. Ruttledge and Bruce Shaw.
I flip through again. Ruttledge was accused of modifying property lines he shared with his neighbor. The plaintiff, Shaw, says the original land survey put the property at 4.5 acres, when purchased. Ruttledge attests the natural spring dividing the property line belongs to him.
Well, well, well. It looks like I was right, and the founding fathers of Kingsley Hollow were stealing land from the little guy, after all. I don’t find anymore information on Elcor, Cloutier or the makeup case, but at least now I know where the compact was made and by who. I’ll have to see if I can track down William’s family. Maybe they have records of a purchase order. I also put a note to check out the parcel of land Ruttledge was dealing with.
I check my messages on my way back to campus, hitting redial when I get closer, to return Noel’s call. “What’s up?” I say when the call connects.
“My dad’s having a get together tomorrow. There will be some people there, you should meet.”
Noel always invites me to meet his dad’s friends and contacts. I’ve gotten some great leads on jobs for the summer. I hesitate to say yes, because some of the missed calls and messages I have are from Logan, and I really need to check in with him. But, I also don’t want to miss out on this opportunity. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone. Meet new people and boost Logan’s ego at the same time. This will also be a test to see just how ensured I have him in my trap.
“Thanks, I’ll be there.”
Logan
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve called Jordanna these last two days. She finally answers her phone, sounding like she’s out of breath.
Sitting on my bed, I say, “I was starting to think I needed to come to the dorms and see if you accidentally mixed your cleaning products together.”
“Awe how sweet. I didn’t. I’m still among the living.”
“You could be an artificial life form. Come over here and prove you’re real.”
She laughs, and I feel the tension easing from my shoulders. We’re still okay after what happened.
“I would, but I’m actually on my way out.”
“Out?”
“Yes, I’m having lunch at Noel’s.”
Huffing into the phone, I say, “This whole disappearing act is getting old Jordanna. When are we gonna spend time together?”
“I didn’t disappear. Something came up, and I had to leave campus unexpectedly.”
“Now you’re back and you’re telling me I can’t see you because you have p
lans.”
“It’s not plans, it’s lunch and I want to see you too, which is why I’m inviting you to come with me, so we can spend time together just like we both want.”
“At Noel’s? No thanks.” I want to spend time with her, but not with him around. I’ll catch up with her later on today or tomorrow.
“Logan,” she says, sweetly. “I know you two have some sort of history, but he’s not like you think. He’s my friend, and to quote you, if we’re together people are just going to have to deal with it. It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
She seems so convinced that things will be okay if I show up at the Hansen Estate with her. I know, what is more likely to happen is, we’ll get through an awkward few moments and then our issues will spill out before we’re done with the second course. “Jordy,” I groan. “I know you think I’m being unreasonable, but I’m not.”
“Logan, you were raised to mingle with the richest people in the world. Why are you so afraid of a casual lunch?”
I never told her what I did to Noel to get control of the school. I’m guessing he hasn’t either. Probably because it’s embarrassing and it would also mean dropping the fake ass nice guy routine he puts on around her.
If I continue to say no, she’ll push for answers and probably ask Noel about it. I can’t let him be the one explaining it to her. “Fine, babe, you owe me big time for this.”
“Owe you? I’m the catalyst for feeding you.”
“Showing up with me is going to be the catalyst for Noel, flipping his shit. I’m going against my better judgement and joining you for lunch, but when we get back to the studio, you’re gonna feed me your pussy. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Thirty-Five
Jordanna
When Logan and I walk into the foyer, I’m struck again by the opulence of Noel’s home. Since coming to Vandi U, I’ve been inside more mansions and condos than I ever dreamed I’d see in my lifetime and it’s painfully obvious that if you come from one of the founding families, your wealth is just. Extra.
I hold up the bottle of wine I brought. “I know you don’t need it, but my mother says it’s rude to show up without a gift for the host. Is there somewhere I can put it?”
Noel motions for me to follow him into the dining room on our left. “You know, Jordanna, when I suggested lunch, I thought you’d come alone. Why’d you bring him?”
I glance behind me, knowing Logan can probably still hear us. “Because he’s my boyfriend, and if you and I are going to be friends, you have to accept that.”
He blinks twice at the term boyfriend and sighs. “There’s a lot of history between us Jordanna.”
“I know. Maybe today the two of you can put some of that aside.” Reaching up to adjust his collar, I say, “Come on, friend. Do this for me. Puleeze.”
Noel chuckles, pulling me into a hug. “You’re lucky I like you so much. I’ll try to be on my best behavior through lunch. He needs to do the same.”
I don’t know what the real reason behind their animosity towards each other is, and nobody at school has ever mentioned it so it must be big. I should probably look into it, in case it’s one more thing I can use to win. “He will. I promise.”
Noel’s dad is just as surprised to see Logan as his son was, but he pretends spending time with a McKay is an every day occurrence. He asks me about my artwork and asks Logan about the school paper. He’s nodding politely, but I can tell he’s filing every little detail away.
Noel said lunch, but it’s actually a garden party. I break away from Logan mingling with the guests, saying hello to people I’ve met before. Noel catches up to me and escorts me over to a woman who needs no introduction.
I’m grinning from ear to ear when I say, “Professor Grace. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
“You too, Jordanna. Tell, me, how is this semester going for you?”
“I’m struggling with my art, but Noel has been helping me through it. I think I finally made a breakthrough last week.”
“He told me he’s been mentoring you, and there’s no better person for the job. I don’t just say that because he’s my TA either. At one point he also struggled with his art and when he pushed through that block, his work was phenomenal. That’s when I hired him.”
“So whenever he tells me he understands…”
“He means it.” Squeezing my arm, says, “Come, there’s someone I think you should meet.”
We cross the lawn and stop near the bar. She taps someone on the shoulder and my breath catches as I come face to face with Tony Parker. This man owns one of the hottest galleries in SoHo.
“Tony, this is Jordanna Felding, the student I was telling you about.”
“Jordanna, I hear you’re applying for summer internships and that if I interview anyone, you should be at the top of the list.”
He’s heard of me and he’s interested in interviewing me? Holy shit.
Logan
Lunch at Noel’s wasn’t as big of a disaster as I thought it would be, but I still felt out of place on his turf so I had to do what I do best. Make connections and find opportunities I can exploit later on.
I saw Grace introduce Jordy to Tony Parker. That had to be a dream come true for her. Noel was standing off to the side, smiling like a dipshit, as if he can take credit for her talent. He might be tutoring and mentoring her, but she’s an amazing painter without his help. Last semester, I helped her push through a wall, but something tells me she would have gotten there eventually on her own.
As for this semester, she’s doing decent work, but I’m worried she’s spreading herself too thin. Her focus has been on the paper, working in Dean Allen’s office, and I still haven’t figured out where she runs off to all the time. Spring break is coming up, we’ll get some down time then.
She follows me into my dad’s house, her heels echoing on the tile as we cross the foyer. I tug her arm, pulling her behind me towards the stairs.
“Wait.” She pulls away, stopping in front of the steps. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to my room.”
“You said you just needed to grab something, I can wait down here.”
Stalking towards her I say, “I also said if I went to lunch with you, you’d do something for me afterwards.” I lift her over my shoulder. “Guess what, babe. This is afterwards.”
“Logan, we are not doing this in your dad’s house.” When we hit the third landing, she knees me in my stomach. I release her into a heap on the floor, and watch as she turns over, scrambling away on all fours, ass in the air, teasing me.
“You’re fighting me, Jordy.” How many times have I told her what that does to me? Now, there’s no backing out until it’s over.
“Logan, just think about what you’re doing.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing since the day we met. Thinking about doing this.”
I grab her by the ankle, pulling her back towards me. Her hands scrape along the carpet, but the soft piles slip easily through her fingers.
“The staff is here.” She pants, “Do you want them to see this?”
“They won’t come up here, and if they did, this wouldn’t be the first time.” I dig my knee in her back, holding her in place. Shredding her dress, I use a strip of the tattered material as a gag. I destroy her panties next.
She was relaxed with Noel, offered smiles to the guests at the party, and even let Tony Parker, who she just met, kiss her cheek. Then the minute we got back in the car, her walls went up and she’s back to being contrary. The only time we seem to be on the same page is when we’re like this. Interlocking our bodies. I need her to let her guard down. I need her to be completely mine. I need her to submit.
I could take her hard and fast, but I do the opposite. Parting her legs, I worship her lower lips with my tongue. Kissing, sucking. Touching. Her muffled profanities turn to whimpers and moans. Music to my ears.
“Giving in already?” I ask, teething her ear.
She resum
es her struggles. A caustic laugh spills from my lips. I love her puny attempts to fight. With one hand, I fiddle with my belt and jeans, rolling the condom down my length. Teasing her folds with the head, I slide just the tip in and pull out. She arches back, grazing her ass against me.
Doing it again, I ask, “I’m sorry, is this not enough?” I drag my nails down her back. “Doesn’t feel so good being teased, does it?”
The noises around the house filter up to the third level, but no one will come up here. The little ones are at school and when they’re not here, the staff knows to stay away.
Her body shakes and she makes a noise that sounds a lot like a laugh, as she tries to pull away again. I had to watch her smile and interact with all those people with Noel at her side, like she’s his. Now she’s running from me.
Holding her in place by the back of her neck, I push inside. Hard. Fast. Unrelenting. The carpet burn she’ll have when I’m done will be worth it. I warned her not to provoke me, and she didn’t listen. She started us on this path, by asking for a hard fuck. Now, I can’t imagine doing it any other way and my inner savage has slipped its leash.
“Dirty, fucking, cunt.” I grunt, pounding her into the floor. “I should rip this condom off, and fuck you the way dirty whores need to be fucked.”
I can’t understand what she’s saying, but I’m sure it’s nothing sweet and compliant. I imagine she’s telling me to go fuck myself. Pulling out, I flip her over, pushing her legs open wider, her knees to her chest as I fuck her. Looking down, her ass is visible, and that sacred place winks at me. The temptation is too much to bare. I pull out again, yanking her to her feet, dragging her the rest of the distance to my room. I lock the door behind us as soon as we’re inside. In my closet, there’s a trunk with a few items I keep here for times like these. I pull out the lube, tossing it on the bed.
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head when she sees what I have planned. “Oh yes, my love. Today is the day we’re going there.”
