Sophie Corrupted

by Viktor Redreich

  They sank into the comfortable couch.

  “I'm not telling,” she teased. “You have to guess.”

  “Ah, Fifi, always making me work for my dinner.” He winked. “Can you give me a country of origin, at least? Or a part of the world?”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “All right then, let me sample this deliciousness.” Elijah rose from the couch and headed for the kitchen.

  Fifi jumped up and flung herself on his back to stop him. “No! It's not ready!” She cried.

  Elijah continued toward the stove with her on his back. She let go and slid off him as he dipped the spoon into the pan and brought it to his lips. Blowing on the steaming liquid, he then sipped the creamy sauce. “Mm … Stroganoff?”

  “Wow. Well done, Dadd—I mean, Elijah!” She giggled, grinning to herself; he hadn't noticed the secret ingredient. “I'm gonna go freshen up, be right back. Don't eat it all!” she called behind her, running to the guest room.

  Fifi had started keeping a change of clothes at Elijah's house, just in case she ever needed to stay the night. That blossomed into a few restroom essentials to keep herself tidy, then a little more extravagant stuff like perfumes, makeup, jewelry. She changed into a mid-calf dress, brushed her hair, and spritzed on some perfume in the ensuite bathroom. She’d only spent the night few times, when they'd lost track of time chatting on the balcony, or when Fifi had something to do early in town the next day. Also, she loved spending time there, so it gave her an excuse to do so. As private as he was with most people, Elijah didn't seem to mind her presence in his sanctuary.

  When she returned from the master suite, she found Elijah on the balcony drinking a mineral water.

  “You look gorgeous as always,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist.

  Fifi kissed him on the cheek and he pulled her in for one of his big, long bear hugs. She didn’t often let men touch her, let alone hug her, but Daddy was allowed to because he was special. This time, however, Elijah did more: He pushed her back slightly and looked deep into her eyes before leaning in and giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

  “Daddy!” She pulled away, surprised. He’d never made an advance on her before. “Why did you do that?”

  “Sorry, I just thought your lips looked so kissable.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re practically my dad!”

  “I’m not your dad.” He chuckled and winked at her.

  “But still!”

  Elijah’s face broke into a frown. “I’m sorry, Fifi. It won’t happen again,” he said then turned away in shame.

  Then Fifi did something she had never done before: she turned him back to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, moved her hands up to cup his cheeks, and kissed him passionately. She hadn’t kissed many boys in her life, and she had certainly never been the one to make a move. Not until now.

  His lips were warm and supple, not as she’d imagined. Her tongue slithered its way into his mouth. Fifi had never dreamed about kissing Elijah. Nothing that could be considered romantic between them had occurred to her. Now that she was doing it, she wondered why she hadn’t wanted to before. It felt so right to be kissing him. He smelled so good, tasted so good. She pressed her body against his, and his big arms tightened around her waist, drawing her in closer. His free hand slowly moved up from her waist and inched toward her breast.

  Fifi pushed his hand away. “No, Daddy! That’s crossing the line,” she said in a playful, girly voice. “It’s time for dinner, anyway.” She took him by the hand and guided him to the dining table.

  She went to the kitchen and stirred some crème Fraiche into the cast iron pan, warming it just enough to heat through, then served it over egg noodles with a sprinkle of parsley. She brought both dishes into the dining room and placed his down first before sitting down to her own.

  “This looks and smells delightful, Fifi. You’re such a good little chef.”

  “Taste it first.”

  Elijah took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Mm-hm. Yep, I was right the first time. Great chef. You want a job?”

  “You can’t afford me,” she said mockingly.

  “You’d be surprised at what I can afford.” He gave her a sly grin. “Speaking of which, your birthday is coming up, right?”

  She nodded.

  “What would you like for your birthday present?”

  Fifi chewed her mouthful, swallowed, then patted her lips with her napkin before responding, “I want you to take me to a ballet performance …” she paused and winced, before adding, “in Russia.”

  Chapter 12

  Inappropriate

  “Do you want to get married?”

  Elijah looked at her, wide-eyed. “Is that a proposal?”

  They were sitting in the airport lounge, first-class, of course. Fifi was wearing a comfy, velvet jumpsuit in the style that she’d seen celebrities wearing when they were flying. She’d bought it as a rare treat for her birthday, which was in just a few days. Elijah wore his usual dark-washed jeans with a white dress shirt and shiny leather loafers. Their flight to Moscow was due to depart in thirty minutes.

  “No, I mean like, ever. Do you ever see yourself getting married?”

  “Uh,” he scratched at his beard. “It’s not really something I think about a lot. Why do you ask?”

  “I dunno. It’s something girls like to fantasize about,” she replied, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. She’d had a blowout and manicure at a fancy salon the day before—a pre-birthday trip treat from Elijah, who had explained she would enjoy traveling so much more if she felt extra pretty and glamorous.

  “Oh, yeah? And what does your fantasy look like, out of curiosity?”

  “Oh, you know,” she sat back on the sofa and leaned her head on his shoulder. “A big house, white picket fence, five kids running around the yard. I’d be a full-time mom. I’d do arts and crafts with them, sew their dresses and shirts, and sing them nursery rhymes. That kind of thing,” she said dreamily.

  “Wow. How old fashioned of you. And here I thought you were a progressive young lady.”

  She slapped him playfully. “Well, yeah. Of course I am. But when it comes to marriage and family, I’m a traditionalist,” she replied matter of factly.

  A server dressed in a tight, red airline uniform leaned down as she was passing. “Can I get you anything to drink, sir?”

  “I’ll take a Pelligrino, please.”

  “And for your lovely daughter?”

  “Oh, she’s not ... nevermind. Fifi, want anything?”

  “I’ll take an orange soda, please.” Fifi smiled to herself at the server’s mistake. Even though they had developed romantic feelings for one another, Fifi still liked to think of Elijah as a father figure.

  “Sure thing, coming right up.” The server smiled and turned on her heels to get their drinks.

  Elijah continued, “No one gets married anymore. All the celebrities are shaming monogamy. Poly is the in thing.”

  “All the celebs?” Fifi raised an eyebrow at him. “And how do you know this?”

  “I keep my ear to the ground. There’s a reason for the ever-increasing new ways to hook up. People just want to screw around and have fun nowadays.”

  “Ha! You say ‘people’ as if you were never like that. From what I remember, and from what I’ve heard, you were quite the playboy, Mr. Elijah Pine. I’m sure you’ve had more than your fair share of hookups, haven’t you?”

  Elijah cleared his throat. “Hey, I never said I haven’t. But, well, I’ve changed my ways, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “Oh, I’ve noticed. So has the rest of the town. The city’s most eligible bachelor has taken himself off the market.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I had some special inspiration. Besides, I was getting bored with the whole nightlife and dating scene. It’s so repetitive and dull.”

  “I know, right? Ugh. There’s so much more to
life than just partying and getting drunk. What’s wrong with people in my generation?”

  Elijah shook his head and shrugged. “Young people want it all. Instead, they end up with very little.”

  “I was watching a video last week about how there’s a biological reason for this ‘up-all-night energy’ that women have in their twenties. We’re programmed that way to be able to take care of babies when they cry through the night. It sounds a bit far-fetched to me, but I found it interesting.”

  “Who’s this ‘we’ you’re referring to? You’re in bed by nine PM most nights,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I like my sleep.”

  “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady,” he warned her playfully, putting his arm around her and pulling her in for a kiss.

  His lips were soft and sweet and she breathed in deeply to take in his heady cologne. Just then, the server returned with their drinks. As Fifi pulled away from Elijah’s embrace, she saw the server trying to hide the look of sheer shock on her face as she placed the drinks on the table. Without saying a word, she hurried off. Fifi and Elijah giggled and made eyes at one another. It wasn’t the first time they’d caused a stir with their public display of affection.

  “Nobody seems to want kids anymore these days. It’s like there’s a backlash or something. They take too much time, they’re too expensive, they get in the way of your freedom ... there are a gazillion reasons not to have kids,” Elijah reasoned.

  “But that’s selfish. What ever happened to leaving behind a legacy, giving your love, and watching your kids grow into the best versions of themselves?”

  Elijah shrugged. “That doesn’t seem to be important to anyone anymore.”

  “Flight Forty-Five Nineteen to Moscow is now boarding. Would all first-class passengers please proceed to Gate Fifty-One for priority boarding,” the loudspeaker announced their imminent departure.

  “That’s us,” said Elijah, pulling their tickets from his leather tote.

  “Oh my god!” Fifi clapped her hands together like a little girl. “We’re really going!”

  Elijah laughed and shook his head. “What? Did you think this was all a big hoax?”

  “No, I know you’d never do that to me. I’m just so excited. It’s my first time leaving the country. My first time on a plane, for that matter,” she added in a shrill voice, bouncing in her seat.

  “And first time in first-class,” he pointed out. “You’re kicking it off right.”

  “Thanks to you,” she added.

  They wheeled their bags to the boarding gate and handed their passports to the ground hostess, who welcomed them on board.

  The first-class cabin was even more luxurious than Fifi imagined. The seats were large and plush, with a lot of legroom. They were in rows of two, each walled off for privacy. There was a fully-stocked, circular bar at the front lined with padded stools. A bartender stood behind, mixing a martini.

  “Elijah! This is amazing!”

  “Welcome to first-class, baby!” he replied with a wink as they took their seats.

  Fifi picked up a plastic-wrapped package and opened it. Inside were silk pajamas, compression socks, a toothbrush, an eye mask, Pellegrino mineral water, facial spray, shampoo, conditioner, and body lotion. “Wow. They really know how to make you feel like a VIP. Why would they give us shampoo? Not like we can use it on here, can we?”

  Elijah pointed to the front of the cabin. “Around that corner, behind the bar, is a huge bathroom with two showers.”

  “No. Way.” Fifi leaned back in her chair, grinning ear to ear. “So, where is the jacuzzi?” She giggled.

  “That’s probably the only thing this plane doesn’t have.”

  “Can I bring some champagne for you and your beautiful daughter, Mr. Pine?” the air hostess asked.

  Elijah didn’t bother to correct her; he simply looked at Fifi quizzically. “Well, we aren’t big drinkers, but what the heck—we’re celebrating. Sure, two glasses of your finest champagne please.”

  Fifi nodded her approval.

  They cheered as the seat belt sign came on and took a sip of their bubbly before buckling up. Fifi didn’t know her champagne, but she noticed the tasty liquid had floral notes with a mature flavor. Once they were in the air, they reclined their seats, and put their feet up.

  Fifi began thinking about their conversation from earlier. “You know, getting back to what we were talking about …”

  “Haha. What’s brought on all this talk? It’s really on your mind, isn’t it?”

  “It just bothers me. I was reading about it yesterday and I can’t get it out of my mind. Like, how lonely is my generation going to feel in twenty to thirty years when they realize they have no one except fake, digital friends? Their only real connections are with their devices. You can’t marry a phone!”

  “Well, my darling, the world is becoming a very different place. Maybe marrying phones is indeed where we’re headed.”

  “Yeah, or robots—how sad.”

  “Well, at least a robot spouse wouldn’t give you a hard time for coming home late,” he joked.

  Fifi laughed then took a sip of her champagne. “God, you’re so romantic,” she replied sarcastically.

  “I do know what you mean,” Elijah agreed. “People treat one another like things to be used. Men think of women as walking sex dolls. Women think of men as walking ATMs. Relationships are so impermanent, so fleeting. The moment something goes wrong, they break up.”

  “Exactly,” Fifi agreed. “A relationship should be about reflecting off each other, helping each other grow. Nobody’s perfect. Arguments and disagreements will happen but you shouldn't break up at the first sign of conflict. Having a life partner means you can work on your imperfections together, help each other improve over time. People aren’t disposable.”

  “Well, not all of them are,” he said, looking at her meaningfully.

  Goosebumps covered her arms and a shiver ran up her spine. After a moment, she spoke again, “I’ve been dreaming of my knight in shining armor coming to sweep me off my feet for as long as I can remember. A prince charming who will come home to me and kiss me on the cheek and ask me how my day was while I cook him dinner and help him relax in the evening. Spend loving time together, you know?”

  Elijah nodded.

  “And he would be an amazing father to our kids.”

  “All five of them?” He smirked.

  “Yup!”

  Elijah scoffed and batted his eyelashes in disbelief.

  “Don’t you ever want kids?”

  “I’ve got you, don’t I?” he replied, nudging her in the ribs.

  “You silly,” Fifi rolled her eyes once again and shook her head. “I mean real kids. You know, kids who you raised from birth. Kids you teach to ride bicycles, who you go to sports games and piano recitals for. Kids you nurture and watch grow into successful adults. Children who benefit from your wisdom, your values, and the best aspects of your personality.”

  “Yeah. I mean, I guess part of me does wonder sometimes what exactly I’m working toward. I built my company from the ground up, worked my butt off, and for what? I have money, but there isn’t a lot of meaning in that without loved ones to spend it on. Besides you, of course,” he added, sipping his champagne thoughtfully. “Sure, my company’s doing great, but … I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to leave that life behind and move on to new adventures. I guess that’s why I’m done with the playboy lifestyle, as you put it. It’s not me anymore.”

  “Well, you are pushing fifty, grandpa,” Fifi jabbed.

  “Hey! I’m only forty-five.”

  “I’m just saying, oftentimes when men get older, they realize they don’t want a different girl in their bed every night.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, are you implying Elijah Pine is ready to settle down? Doth mine ears deceive me?”

  He laughed. “I guess it’s been in the back of my mind for a while. I just haven’t been rea
dy. But who knows … maybe a big house with a white picket fence and lots of kids wouldn’t be so bad. So long as I had a loving, energetic young wife to, you know, make me dinner and massage my feet,” he grinned.

  “Ha! Keep dreaming, Mr. Pine,” Fifi joked. She took a sip of champagne then turned her head to look out her window. The plane glided over snowy, mountainous terrain en route to Russia. A wide grin was plastered across her face.

  Chapter 13

  Breeding

  “Just because we’re alone in a hotel room together doesn’t mean I’m going to take my clothes off for you.”

  Fifi and Elijah were cuddling on the sofa of the presidential suite which took up the entire top floor of the hotel. The room looked positively regal. Every pore of Fifi’s body tingled with the excitement of being in the arms of the man she adored in a country she’d been dying to visit. They were hours away from attending a dance performance she hadn’t dared to imagine she would ever attend.

  “What do I have to do to get you to take your clothes off—beyond flying you halfway across the planet?”

  “You have to say the magic words,” she replied with a cheeky grin, unsure if he knew what she meant, but unwilling to give anything away.

  “Are the magic words, want to go swimming? There’s a heated indoor pool downstairs. It overlooks Saint Basil’s Cathedral. The sun will be almost directly behind it at this time—stunning.”

  “No, that’s not it, and no thank you. As tempting as that sounds, I have to start getting ready for the ballet tonight. You go ahead.”

  He leaned over and softly kissed her neck, swiping his tongue up to her ear. “Come on. It’s no fun by myself.”

  She pushed him away playfully. “Well, you’ll have to make the most of it. Go on! I want to look perfect for my favorite ballet.”

  He pulled her in for a languid, delicious kiss. “You’re always perfect.” He got up, grabbed a towel and swim shorts, then left for the pool. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he called behind him.