by Jamie Knight
“We won't be filming tonight, of course,” Tobias said, as if reading my mind.
“We won't?”
“Oh, goodness no! You get the night off and then tomorrow we start filming with the makeover and when that is finished, we do the first monologue and then the first date. It is a bit daunting, but we will try to make it as easy as we can.”
I could have kissed him and not just because he was being so nice to me. I would have expected him to be at least civil. I was their meal-ticket, after all. They had chosen me. I didn't even know I had been entered. Even so, there was something about the way Tobias acted. There was a genuineness to his gentleness that made me feel safe.
“O-okay,” I said, realizing I should probably say something.
“Great, I’ll have Clementine drive you over to the hotel.”
“Clementine?”
“My driver.”
“Yeah, I know, I mean figured but wow. That is just so perfect,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Perfect?”
“Her, name being Clementine. With the drawl and everything.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” said Tobias Ford after a long, sage-like pause.
“Do you know what happened?” I asked, wanting to slap myself immediately after the words left my mouth.
“Happened with what?” Tobias asked patiently.
“Her neck, I mean -”
“Oh, her scar. I only know the basics but suffice it to say she had a spot of bother back home and needed a job when she landed here. She is one of the best drivers I have ever seen, so it was a natural fit.”
His answer raised as many questions as it answered, but I decided to just let it lie, not wanting to push within half an hour of meeting him. Yet he did seem totally open and candid, like the sort you could ask anything without him getting offended. He wouldn’t talk about other people without their permission but about himself all was open. At least, that was the impression he gave.
He didn’t leave me. It was only three floors back down to the lobby and the out the front doors, but Mr. Ford stayed with me the entire way. Never touching me but seeming like he might at any moment. Not in a creepy way but gentle and encouraging, not that I would have minded at all either. After shanking his hand, I started getting really curious about what it would be like for him to touch me in a different sort of way.
The car was there when we got out. Clementine stood by the open back door. I couldn’t see what it was. It was just big and fancy and electric white, and polished to a mirror-shine. It was nice enough to be impressive but not so flashy as to make me feel self-conscious. Much like Tobias himself.
“Where to, baby blue?”
“The Sixty on Allen,” Tobias said.
“Yessir!” Clementine said, actually saluting.
“What’s the Sixty?” I asked in all innocence.
“You’ll see,” Mr. Ford said with an enigmatic smile.
Like a good girl, I got into the car and let Clementine drive me. Wherever our shared boss dictated, I would go.
Chapter Four - Addie
Mr. Ford was right. I did see, and it was worth waiting for. The room wasn’t big. It was roughly the size of an average apartment on the Lower East Side. They made the absolute best of the available space, right down to the slick black and white color scheme. Even the iron was black. The highlight of the entire thing was the blue and white lightbox image of a tree built into the wall, giving the impression of a window into an alternative universe. I stared at it for nearly half an hour before being able to pull myself away. What started with aesthetic interest turned to existential fixation.
My cellphone rang its siren call. I had to be careful which calls I took. There were only so many minutes on my plan. I closed my eyes, trying to prolong the time before the terror struck if it was, in fact, he-who-must-not-be named.
“How do you like it?” Tobias asked.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Good. I thought a former art student might appreciate it.”
“I do,” I said, glancing back at the lightbox, careful not to be pulled back in.
“Great. You have an open tab with room service. See you tomorrow.”
“An open tab?” I asked, making sure I hadn’t fallen asleep for a couple of seconds.
All I could hear was a dial tone. It sounded like the sort of thing that he would say, so I decide to take him up on it.
Suitably situated in a soapy tub, a tray of the finest food and drink beside me, I did my best to soak away the stress of the last couple of weeks. The buzz from the champagne came on slow, easing me into a wonderful relaxation. I lowered myself further into the bubbly water and let myself float as if in a shapeless, peaceful void. Alone in my own personal space.
I wasn’t alone for long. Tobias soon appeared in the realm of my mind. The one I had spent years developing as a sort of haven away from my actual reality. Full and perfect, he looked much as he had the last time I had seen him.
He was in the same suit and everything. He reached out his beautiful hand, caressing the near length of my body from my face to my feet. I let out a euphoric sigh both in my mind as well as in the tub.
It was a secret I kept close and only revealed to those I really trusted, but foot massages, well done foot massages in particular, drove me absolutely crazy. I could feel my pussy getting wet as he carefully massaged one foot and then the other, giving each an equal amount of attention.
Moving up my legs, he caressed his lovely hands along my shins and over my thighs, making the tremble with desire. Tenderly opening my legs with his hands, he moved ever upward, lightly cupping my aching pussy in his warm palm. Beginning with slow circular motions he coaxed a moan from deep within me. It was the kind of sound I had only heard about others making but never dreamed I would experience myself.
Lovingly parting my lips with the fingers of one hand he went from stroking me to penetration, siding two fingers inside me, getting all the way up to the third knuckle. I let out a soft moan to let him know how much I liked it. He started to work in me, gradually working up to a silken rhythm. I didn't usually make a lot of noise, but I did then.
Both in the void and in the tub, my sounds of joy echoed in the bathroom. There was a time I actually would have cared. I was getting past all sorts of inhibitions.
Cupping my pussy again to maintain contact, he lowered his head, giving me a long, slow caress with his tongue. I copied the motion with my wet fingers, trying to imagine what it would be like.
Licking me to a screaming orgasm, the Tobias in my head started planting soft, wet kisses on the outside of my pussy, making me hum with contentment. The contentment transferred to my concrete existence in the bathtub in Manhattan.
When I was calm again, he moved his kisses up to my pelvis and up over my belly to my tits. Stopping there a while, he worked on them softly, sucking each of my rock-hard nipples. First soft, then hard, making me moan, he softly spiralled his tongue around my areolae as he held each in his gentle mouth.
Moving onward and upward ever more, he kissed my lips. I immediately returned his affections. His tongue soon enough found its way into my mouth. So distracted was I by our beautiful make out session, I scarcely noticed when he mounted me.
The introduction of his huge, hard, beautiful cock into my pussy came as a pleasant surprise. I gasped around his tender lips as he kissed me. His hips started to rock in a synchronized motion as he worked his cock inside me in a way that made me want to melt.
It was slow but gradual, the correlation clear between his deft thrusts and the sound coming out of me. All were prayers to Venus. Each a bit different and a little louder than the last, the intensity wasting like the tide in a gathering wind.
Before I knew it, he was pinning me down, soft hands around my wrists, my body writhing deliciously beneath him as he fucked me hard. He pumped his cock into my tightening pussy like his life depended on it. I w
rapped my legs around his waist and yelped even louder as I pounded my fingers into myself under the water, trying to keep up with his tender fury.
Finally, in a single explosion brought all of us together, the Tobias in my head, the version of me in my head, and the real me in the tub.
The car was there in the morning, waiting not so patiently by the curb like a predator sprung for the pounce. Clementine leaned against it cool as ever. Her Alexander McQueen shades only adding to the effect.
She almost reminded me of Mercy in that moment. I made a mental note to call my best friend of many years to tell her what was going on. It was quite possible she was worried because I called her almost every day. She would also want to know that she was absolutely right, and I was foolish and wrong, and they had indeed chosen me for the show despite my scepticism.
“Nice shades,” I said when we were underway.
“Thank ya, darlin’. My mama would burn my bottom if she saw me wearin’ them but what she don’t know won’t hurt her,” she said.
“Why is that?”
“You know who Alexander McQueen was, right?”
“British fashion designer, as far as I know,” I said.
“Exactly right, darlin’. He was damn good, too. Really creative. He used to say that he would imagine a world, populate it with people and then, and only then, imagine what the people are wearing.”
“Wow.”
“I know, right? Sadly, he died of suicide, which is kind of a no-no in my house. Though that’s nothing compared to him being, you know, a friend of Dorothy.”
“No, I didn’t,” I confessed.
“Yeah, folk ain’t real friendly to that sorta thing where I come from.”
“I’m not surprised. I mean from what I’ve heard anyway. I don’t want to stereotype or anything.”
“Stereotypes exist for a reason, puddin’.”
The building didn’t look any less intimidating. I almost asked Clementine if she would go in with me, but she had a job to do and so did I. Better just to get on with it. Taking a deep breath, I started the limb up the front steps.
I’d never really had a makeover before. Not an official one anyway. Mercy and I used to do each other’s makeup, but that was just for fun and she was always much better at it than I was. Her results had me looking like Audrey Hepburn. My results on her looked more like Gaahl from Gorgoroth. We took pictures for posterity.
They moved kind of like birds. Pecking and stroking at me with penciled and brushes, maneuvering my hair into new and interesting shapes. I could hardly believe the results when I came out the other end. I looked maybe ten years younger. My overall look was a modernized version of a flapper. Neck length, fire red bob and all.
“Right, to wardrobe,” Mari said. Tobias had lent me his assistant for the day. I had to make sure to thank him.
“Strip.”
This was the first word I heard upon entering the wardrobe room. Getting me down to my base garments, I was rebuilt once more. Like a house burned down to the foundations. I tried, I really did, but my jaw still dropped at the sight in the mirror.
“I know right?” the stylist asked, standing behind me.
“Holy shit!” Mari said as she entered the room unannounced.
“Thanks.”
“Time to go up,” Mari said, pulling herself back together.
Tobias Ford was waiting for us in the studio. My heart started pounding in my chest at the very sight of him. He was wearing a similar version to the day before, only his suit was midnight blue instead of black, and his shirt, still silk, was cream white.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Good. I think.”
“A bit nervous?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“That’s perfectly normal. Fortunately, the show isn’t live, so we can just keep doing it until we have a take you’re happy with.”
“Right.”
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Taking me gently by the hand, a thrill ran through me as our skin again touched in real time. Tobias lead me over to the monologue chair, escorting me up onto the beautifully upholstered seat.
“It’s going to be fine,” Tobias said, taking me gently by the shoulders.
It really was surprisingly encouraging. I closed my eyes and did my best to just relax and be myself.
Two. That’s how many takes it took to get the monologue. It was actually an interview. Tobias asked me the questions in his naturally relaxing tones. Only I was wearing a microphone, so my answers were the only thing picked up by the audio track.
It was a pretty neat trick, really. The second take was done just to be sure, but Tobias swore up and down that the first was perfect and would most likely be used. It was just always good to have a backup.
The preliminaries finished in record time; it was time to get ready for the main event. Tobias stayed by my side the entire time, making me almost wish I was going on a date with him. Catching onto the idea, that was exactly what I planned to do right up until the moment of truth.
“Gino’s, please, Clementine,” Tobias said, getting into the back seat beside me.
“Right away, sir!”
“I thought the date was at the Blue Room.”
“Oh, it is. I didn’t mean to assume, I just figured it has been a while since you’d eaten.”
“It has,” I confessed. How he knew that was anyone’s guess.
“Very good then. To Gino’s for a slice so you don’t faint in the meantime and then on to the Blue Room to set up for the main event.”
“Great.”
Of all my demonstrable skills, fortune-telling had never been one of them, yet it turned out that I was indeed correct. It was great. There were few places I could think of that I would rather be than at one of the three small tables in an authentic New York pizza shop with Tobias Ford.
“Oh, wait minute,”
“What?” I asked, my mouth still full.
“Hold still.”
Obeying him at his every word, Tobias tilted my head back and wiped a bit of cheese grease from my chin before it was able to threaten the perfection of my outfit. Perhaps I should have been embarrassed at the fact that he was wiping me off like a dribbling child.
I didn’t feel it at the time, though. I was just so thrilled that he was touching me. I was like a giddy schoolgirl. It was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Even so, I kind of liked it.
“Ready?” he asked, dropping the napkin into the triangular cardboard tray we had been given to hold our sloppy feasts.
“Okay,” I said.
My response would have likely been very much the same had he told me to drop my panties and bend over.
Letting me get in first, Tobias slid into the back seat, which suddenly seemed a lot smaller. Sweet Clementine closed the door behind him and soon enough we were off again into the gathering night. I was on my way to meet my destiny.
Chapter Five - Tobias
It was like riding a bike. Been on one active off-site television set, been on them all. Just another day at the office. I was trying my best to broadcast a calm attitude to Addie, hoping some of my good vibes might resonate. I could almost feel her tension. The wonder of the newbie. I almost envied her in a way.
“We ready?”
“Almost, we’re just waiting for the guy to show up,” Samantha said.
“Rather a large detail,” I pointed out.
“I am well aware. He should be here soon.”
“Show me his file.”
“His what?”
“Pretty please?”
“You know I can’t resist you when you talk like a nine-year-old girl,” Samantha said, handing over the clipboard.
Everything looked good. There were no immediate or obvious warning signs. Except that he was a corporate lawyer, which I tended to trust as far as I could comfortably spit them. I tried to tak
e people as they came. Not even the Nazis were all bad as project Valkyrie clearly demonstrated.
“Everything looks in order,” I said, returning the clipboard.
I took a position behind the camera, so I was close to the table but didn’t get in the way of the shot.
Everything was set. Camera was ready, lights were angled, and Addie looked absolutely scrumptious. As if waiting for exactly the right moment, the man of the hour, Addie’s first date of the run, ‘the chiseler’ as I had already come to think of him in the Gangs of New York sense, came breezing in.
“Am I fashionably late?” he inquired, removing the designer shades that he thought made him look cool but actually made him look like even more of a twonk.
“Not at all,” I said, trying to sound pleasant through my seething rage.
I could already tell he wasn’t good enough for her. I hadn’t known Addie long, but I was able to get a pretty good sense of people. She might have had some issues, lack of confidence primary among them, but he just oozed the essence of a raging asshole. I considered calling off the entire shoot and take the financial hit. Sadly, I was too late. They were already filming.
Hope for the best an prepare for the worst. This was the advice my realist grandfather one gave me. He had lived through two world wars, so I figured he might know a thing or two about a thing or two. As much as I hated to admit it, not simply because Addie was taking the brunt of it, the first date on the first season of Second Chance Bachelorette really was a prepare for the worst situation. I could only hope that show’s title would ring true.
The fisher was rude, which came as no surprise. The problem was the more he drank the ruder he got, running through the entire repertoire of English swear words, eventually turning to other languages of the world. He came out with things that would a Portuguese sailor blush.
I gave the signal to cut camera. Traditionally, this action was meant to be reserved for the director, but I reserved particular rights in emergency situations. Something I invoked with a single phase.
“Code black.”
My statement worked like an incantation, spurring all and sundry to start taking down any and all recording equipment.