by Kelly Utt
As Marcheline pulled into her regular parking spot out front of the winery, she noticed a familiar vehicle next to her in the lot. She got out, carrying the sandwiches, and she walked around the back of the familiar vehicle. Sure enough, it was Jim Bennett’s red Jeep Wrangler. The top was off and his favorite sunglasses were sprawled out on the dash. Marcheline had discouraged both Jim and Leonard from visiting her at work, mostly because they could bump into each other. Neither man knew about the other. She hadn’t professed her devotion to either, and she hadn’t promised exclusivity. But she knew it would hurt feelings if Jim or Leonard were to find out she was seeing someone else.
Hesitantly, Marcheline walked inside, past the reception desk towards her office. She didn’t see Jim waiting in the chairs out front, so she knew someone must have shown him to a more private space. She pulled her smart phone out of her pocket to text Rande, hoping to avoid an awkward situation. But before she could, Rande stepped out of the conference room door, closing it snuggly behind him.
“Welcome back, Ma’am,” he said in his characteristic drawl. “You have a visitor.”
“Shush,” Marcheline implored, pulling her friend to the side. “We need not make a spectacle.”
Rande didn’t reply, but he raised his eyebrows as his mouth moved into a smirk. He was enjoying this.
“Fine. We’ll pretend there isn’t a young, blonde high school teacher waiting for you in the conference room. Just be glad I didn’t take him into your office where he could gawk at all your stuff,” Rande explained. “Hey, did you bring something back for me?”
“Leave it to you to move right past my distress and onto the topic of lunch,” Marcheline said with a grin.
“That’s right,” Rande replied. “I have my priorities straight.”
Marcheline handed one bag to Rande, still smiling. Their friendship always boosted her spirits. “Chicken salad. It was supposed to have been Sabine’s, but she saw herself out before the food arrived at the table. Figured I might as well bring it back for you rather than let it go to waste.”
“My good fortune,” Rande said. “You know I’d never let a sandwich to go to waste. Sabine’s loss is my gain. I’ll take it.” Rande winked, then took the sandwich back to his office, leaving Marcheline to tend to Jim Bennett.
4
Marcheline opened the door of the conference room slowly, leaning only her head inside. There was Jim, fiddling with this smartphone. He was probably playing some juvenile game. He hadn’t progressed all the way through the teenage stages of development, as far as Marcheline could tell. Perhaps that was why he related so well to his students. And perhaps that’s why the two of them were attracted to each other. Marcheline had read enough self-help articles to know that people from dysfunctional childhoods often paired up. Misery loves company.
Jim was wearing casual clothes. Even more casual than he normally wore to teach at school.
“Hello, Mr. Bennett,” Marcheline said softly. A broad smile spread across Jim’s face as he laid eyes on her. “Come on. Follow me,” she instructed.
“On it,” Jim replied. He stood up eagerly and trotted along behind Marcheline as if she were a mama duck.
Marcheline hated to feel embarrassed of Jim’s age and immaturity, but she did. They had a lot of fun together. But Jim wasn’t who Marcheline thought she was supposed to be dating. He was in his late twenties, much closer to her daughter's age than her own.
Once they were both in Marcheline’s office and the door was closed, she set the carry-out bag on her desk and turned to face Jim.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. Why else would I be here?”
His attention made Marcheline pause. She wasn’t comfortable when a romantic partner lavished praise on her.
“I’m glad,” she replied. “But I thought we said you weren’t going to come to my office. I like to keep my personal life separate from my work life.”
Jim took a step towards her. “You and Rande hang out together all the time.”
“That’s different. Rande and I are friends.”
Jim took another step towards Marcheline playfully, reaching one arm around her waist. “But we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Stop, now,” Marcheline said feebly, feigning resistance.
“I mean it. We’re very good friends, I might add,” Jim said as he pressed his body up against Marcheline’s. She could feel his breath. Jim had the muscles of a surfer dude, that was for sure. Being so close to him made Marcheline aroused.
“Come away with me,” Jim whispered, the words dancing around her ear.
“What are you even talking about?” Marcheline asked, leaning her arms against his chest. It was a defensive pose, but one that left open the possibility of relaxing her guard.
“Come away with me,” he repeated. “East Valley High is on fall break this week. My schedule is wide open until next Monday. Come away with me.”
Marcheline lowered her eyebrows, assessing Jim’s face to see if he was serious. It was a preposterous idea. She had a winery to run. She rarely took time off, let alone to go on vacation. And besides, they had barely been seen in public together. They weren’t officially dating, no more than she and Leonard were. Still, his offer was tempting.
“Think about it, will you?” Jim asked. “Just the two of us without obligations or responsibilities, cruising down the open road. We could head west to the ocean. Maybe spend a week at a little bungalow by the beach?”
“Let me guess,” Marcheline said. “You surf?”
“Not a lot, but yeah, I do,” Jim replied. “Why? You want to learn?”
“I don’t know about that,” Marcheline said. “This old girl might be too old for new tricks like surfing.”
“Nonsense,” Jim said as he pulled Marcheline more tightly against him. “First of all, you’re not old.”
“Older than you. You know I could be your mama. Doesn’t that ever bother you?”
“Not in the least. I don’t know any mamas as hot as you. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous.”
Marcheline swooned. She was trying to resist, but Jim’s charms were working. “I’m serious,” she added. “I can’t just get away like that. Especially without notice. If I were to go out of town, it would take me a couple of weeks of prep just to make sure everything was done properly in my absence. I’ve worked too long and too hard to be careless with my business. You’re a doll, Jim, but I don’t think you understand my level of responsibility.”
Marcheline bristled at her own words. She immediately wished she could take them back, because she heard how condescending they sounded. Jim didn’t seem fazed.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s problem solve. Come on, I’ll help you think through it. Can’t Rande step up and fill in? He’s worked with you for a long time now and seems very capable. Oh, I know! You could hire somebody from a temp agency to help Rande out. That way, the workload wouldn’t be so heavy on him.”
Marcheline appreciated Jim’s enthusiasm, but he was beginning to irritate her. He had no idea what running a successful business was like. It was presumptuous of him to think he could begin to advise her on how to handle hers. He was just a high school teacher. He was way out of his depth.
Adding force to her arms, which were still positioned in between the two of them, Marcheline pushed Jim away. “This has been lovely, Jim, but I really need to get back to work,” she said as she walked over and sat down behind her desk. “Thank you for the invitation, but I won’t be able to go away with you at this time.”
Jim looked at the floor, disappointed. He shook his head slowly. “You know you have a problem, right?” he asked. Marcheline clammed up, barely holding eye contact. “You’re so scared of a real relationship that you’re willing to push a good one away when it’s right in front of you. Have you ever even been in love? You talk about how young I am like it’s a bad thing, but I have. I know what love is. I’m trying to show it to you.”
> Marcheline crossed her arms over her chest in another defensive pose. She didn’t want to hear this any more than she wanted to hear Sabine’s talk about her perceived inadequacies. “That will be all, Jim. Thank you.”
He took a breath, quickly realizing he would not get anywhere with Marcheline if he kept this up. He liked her. He didn’t want to push her away. And he didn’t want to offend her.
Without saying a word, Jim walked behind Marcheline’s chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. He began to rub her shoulders and neck, kneading skillfully to release the kinks where tension was stored. Marcheline half-heartedly tried to resist, but was so wound up that her body wanted the release. She knew she needed to relax, and Jim’s touch was just the thing to help her do exactly that.
“That’s the spot,” Marcheline mumbled.
Jim let his hands wander around the front to Marcheline’s collarbone, then he slid his hands inside her blouse and over her ample bosom.
“I know a few other spots I can touch that might help you relax,” he whispered as Marcheline arched her back in response.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” she breathed.
“I don’t know. Is it working?” Jim asked as he let one hand travel all the way down below the waistline of Marcheline’s pants.
Wrapped up in the heat of the moment, Marcheline stood quickly then pushed a button to close the shades on her picture window. She glanced at her office door to double check that it was locked. Satisfied they wouldn’t be interrupted, Marcheline unbuttoned her blouse and pressed herself hard against Jim, kissing him deeply as he removed her silky pants and lifted her onto the desk in front of him.
His bodily response to her exposed skin was immediate, and Marcheline appreciated the vigor and vitality of a younger man. They fumbled with buttons and zippers, mouthing each other hungrily, until they both reached a climax, moaning with relief
5
“Whoa. That was hot,” Jim remarked, sounding more and more like a surfer dude all the time. He moved through the process of zipping and buttoning in reverse as he pieced his clothing back together. “I think I get the message. Less talking and planning, and more of that.”
Marcheline sighed as she buttoned her own blouse, careful to tuck everything back in like it was. “It isn’t that simple.”
“Maybe you could enlighten me. Over dinner tonight?” Jim asked. He knew they hadn’t been seen in public together, but he was hopeful.
“I don’t know,” Marcheline said. “I have a lot left to do here. I went to lunch with my daughter, and now this. I’m behind on some things, including an afternoon staff meeting I need to lead. It’s harvest season, you know.”
“I’ll get out of your hair,” Jim replied.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“How about this?” he tried. “I’ll eat something now so I won’t be hungry early this evening. I’ll wait on you in case we can steal away for a late bite.”
“I…”
“Right,” Jim added. “No stealing away because that means going out in public. I get it.”
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Marcheline clarified. “I’m just… Well, I’m not really available. I’m sort of married to my business. I know that sounds bad to say, but it’s just how it is.”
“I get it.”
“So, if we are to keep seeing each other…”
“We have to do it in private and around your work schedule.”
Marcheline felt guilty for not being more available. Jim was a genuinely decent guy. So what if he was young enough to be her son? He liked her, and she liked him.
“Listen,” Jim began in a soothing voice. He stepped close to Marcheline and brushed a few wild strands of hair from her eyes, tucking them gently behind one ear. “I want to see you. I’ll be patient. And I’ll do it the way you want. I’ll check with you later this evening. If you get finished here at a reasonable hour, I’ll stop by your house. I can bring takeout. It’ll be fun. Netflix and chill?”
Marcheline was hesitant. She didn’t know what time she’d be finished, and she didn’t want to lead Jim on. Perhaps it would have been better for them both if she let him down easy and cut things off. At least that way, he could find someone who would return his affection fully. Marcheline knew Jim wanted a wife and kids someday. Even if by some remote chance she decided to marry, she was nearing fifty and wouldn’t be bearing any more children. She didn’t want to hold Jim back from the natural order of things. It wouldn’t be fair. He would, no doubt, make a great dad. Marcheline had heard him talk often about the high school kids in his classes. She could tell he had an ease around kids that not everyone does. It seemed almost imperative that he raise a few of his own. But Marcheline’s body craved more of Jim’s touch. He had such a youthful lust for her. His sexual attention made her feel good. It made her feel wanted in a context other than business. Just thinking about a repeat of their afternoon encounter piqued her interest and sent blood rushing to all the right places.
“Okay, fine. Netflix and chill,” she confirmed. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving here. Probably around seven. I’ll wrap up as soon as I can.”
“Yes!” Jim exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. “It’s a date.” Marcheline opened her mouth to correct him, but he corrected himself before she could. “I mean… See you tonight.”
6
There was a knock on Marcheline’s office door just minutes after Jim left. She assumed it was him. Maybe he had forgotten something. “Come in,” she called from a seated position at her desk. She felt warmed by their lovemaking and wouldn’t have minded seeing Jim for a few more minutes. She’d tell him how she had to hurry and get back to work, but secretly, she would enjoy an excuse to spend more time with him.
“It’s me, Ma’am,” Rande called back.
“Oh,'' she said. “Only you, huh?”
“Oh, only me,” Rande teased. “Happy to see you, too.”
“Get in here,” Marcheline replied as Rande stepped through the door.
“Did you enjoy your… Um, what should we call it? Meeting… With young Mr. Bennett?” he asked. “That boy looked all hot and bothered when he left here. What is he, twenty now? Soon you’ll be able to drink together.”
“Is that all you came here to say, old man?” Marcheline asked her friend with a laugh. “Because I really need to get back to work. This place won’t run itself.”
“Yep. Pretty much,” Rande replied as they both chuckled. “But you have a phone call. The guy has been holding for quite some time. Stacy referred it back to me since she knew you were… Shall we say, otherwise occupied.”
“Couldn’t she have taken a message?” Marcheline asked. “Isn’t that why we have a receptionist, anyway?”
“She could have, but I see where she’s coming from. This sounded important. It’s a guy named Bill Henderson, calling from Chicago.”
“Chicago?” Marcheline’s breathing suddenly became shallow as she tried not to panic. There were any number of reasons that a man from Chicago could have been calling related to the business. But that didn’t stop her from fearing the worst.
“Did he say what he wants? To place an order? Or arrange for event space?”
“No. I got on the line and told him he might hold a while, but he said he wanted to wait. I asked him what this was in regard to.”
“And?”
“He wouldn’t tell me a thing,” Rande explained. “He insisted on speaking only to you.”
7
“Hello. Marcheline Fay here,” she said, putting the receiver in one hand and gripping the arm of her office chair tightly with the other.
“Yes, hi there,” a deep male voice replied. “You said it’s Marcheline Fay speaking?”
“That’s right. What can I do for you?”
“Perfect. My name is Bill Henderson. I’m a private investigator based in Chicago and I’m working on a case. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Acting on instinct, M
archeline jumped in her chair as if she’d been struck by lightning. She slammed the receiver down, disconnecting the call. She was in shock. She wrung her hands in her lap, unsure whether her legs would hold her if she tried to stand. It had been a lifetime ago since she had spoken to anyone in Chicago. She had purposely avoided the city and its inhabitants, for good reason. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out who she really was.
Her phone rang again, causing a second jolt. She shifted her gaze to it, mixed emotions moving through her body. By the third ring, anger had won out and taken over.
“Hello?” she said forcefully.
“Ms. Fay, it’s Bill Henderson. From Chicago. I think we got disconnected a few minutes ago.”
“We weren’t disconnected,” Marcheline said. “I hung up the phone.”
“You did?”
“I don’t know anything about Chicago and I don’t much like being bothered at work,” Marcheline explained. “You have two minutes, so make it quick. What do you want?”
“Okay, wow. I wasn’t expecting…”
“Wasting time.”
“Right. I was hired by the family of a man named Chester Loor. He’s serving time in federal prison for a crime they don’t think he committed. I’m trying to help clear his name.”
Marcheline was speechless. She tried desperately to hold on to her anger even though its strength threatened to leave her. She again gripped the arm of her chair tightly. She focused all of her energy on that grip, hoping it might steady her.
“Are you still there?” Bill asked.
“You have one minute left,” she managed.
“I'm calling you because Chester’s father, Norman Loor, received a letter addressed to Chester at his house. It’s signed by you. Or someone posing as you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marcheline snapped, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about.