The Goodwill Gesture

by McKay, KC

  Her eyes stole a glance at my hand before she leaned back in her chair. "You seem to rescue quite a few damsels in distress." She looked at me like she was assessing my hero qualities. "Well, like I said, it's none of my business. I have to admit, she is a pretty girl."

  I gave her an all-knowing smile and drummed my fingers. "If it wasn't any of your business, you wouldn't be asking me about it. Besides, I wouldn't do anything to defile my memories of France. They're too precious." It was my turn to look at her, assessing her damsel qualities. "And, you're right. She's a girl. I have more sophisticated taste. Believe me, nothing happened." I wanted to crawl over her desk and hold her in my arms, and I sensed she wanted the same thing.

  We sat silent for a moment.

  She sucked in a breath. "Just taking an interest in my men. I want you to be happy. That's all."

  "Ma'am, I'm very happy." I offered her a reassuring smile.

  She rocked forward in her chair, patted my hand, and smiled back. "Good."

  Master Chief burst through the door. "Goddamn jack-offs on the Bay City. They couldn't find a muddy elephant in the snow. I asked them where the—" The creases in his forehead deepened. "Chambers? What are you still doing here? Don't you have a home to go to?"

  Darcy wiggled her fingers in the air, drawing his attention to her. "It's okay, Master Chief. I needed a word with him." She took her eyes off Master Chief and redirected them to me, showing traces of a receding blush. "Dismissed, Chambers."

  I stood up and nodded respectfully. "Yes, ma'am." I got up and walked out.

  ***

  Papers lay scattered over my desk as I sat documenting maintenance that had been done to the shop equipment. A works package was thrown onto my desk, right where I was working.

  "Hey, dipshit, look where you're—"

  "Who you callin' dipshit?" Master Chief stood there with hands on his hips.

  "Umm…" I cleared my throat. "Sorry, Master Chief, I thought you were one of the boys."

  "I can assure you, Chambers, I ain't one of your boys." He pointed to the manila folder. "Get your ass up to the repair office and get the PMA to sign that. It's just a standard works procedure. Think you can do that without fucking it up?"

  "Why would I fuck it up, Master Chief? I'm not thick."

  "Don't get smart with me, Chambers. You need to sign it for your shop, then get the PMA to sign it. Pronto."

  I grabbed the package, signed it and headed for the stairs.

  He called after me. "And no dicking the dog for three hours like you did when Clark told you to get a package signed. I want it on my desk in the next half hour. Capisce?"

  I looked back to ensure the stairwell was vacant before flipping him off.

  ***

  Shouts from inside the repair office echoed down the hallway, getting louder as I approached. I stood outside the door for a moment, wondering if I should go inside. Having legitimate business, I pushed the door open and walked in. All the PMA's flunkies sat at their desks, their eyes glued to the floor under them.

  I looked at the far end where the PMA's desk sat. He was on his feet, waving his arms around like an angry Italian. A person in a khaki-colored uniform stood in front of his desk with their back toward me, but I'd recognize that ass anywhere. It was Darcy.

  "What?" he shouted at the top of his voice. "And you call yourself a goddamn manager? How the hell do you ever expect to move up the ranks if you can't handle a simple thing like this? You have a college education, for crap's sake." He pointed to a low-ranking third class petty officer sitting at a desk not far from him. "Thompson there could do a better job than you."

  My stomach knotted as he continued ranting and raving. He cursed and swore until the air was blue. It was quite a spectacle.

  I wanted to step forward and punch him in the face for shouting at my girlfr— my companion like that. I felt bad for her and would have taken the grilling myself for whatever it was if it would have got her off the hook. But I stood there unable to help. She'd have to take the humiliation on her own.

  He ended the rant with, "Fix the goddamn boat and get out of my sight."

  Darcy turned and walked quickly toward me, but only because I happened to be standing next to the door. Her eyes were as downcast as my heart. She only looked at the floor, obviously too embarrassed to make eye contact with anyone on her way out.

  She left like a whipped pup with her tail tucked between her legs. Everyone in the office remained quiet, still staring at the floor.

  Then there was uproarious laughter.

  "Did you see the look on her face?" the PMA bellowed, grinning ear to ear. "I thought she was going to shit herself." More laughing from the PMA as he sat down at his desk. "It was only an erroneous signature for Pete's sake. I thought she was going to cry." He couldn't keep the smirk off his face and kept chuckling to himself.

  Others snickered along with him, but avoided eye contact.

  Poor Darcy was nearly in tears, and he didn't even mean it. It was as if ass-chewing was a sport to him. Rage swept over me, but I was no match for a man of his power. It would be in my best interest to keep in mind where I stood in the pecking order — and that was right at the bottom.

  Since he seemed to get his jollies off being an asshole, perhaps it was best to strike while he was in a good mood.

  I made the long walk to Devil's Corner and got his signature while he was still smiling.

  ***

  I returned to the division office expecting to find Master Chief resting his bazooka arms on his desk and scowling at me for whatever reason he could think of. What I really hoped for was to find him with his backscratcher hanging on his lips so I could laugh at him.

  Darcy would most likely be in hiding somewhere, licking her wounds.

  To my surprise, Darcy was the only one in the office when I walked in. Sitting behind her desk with papers in front of her. She looked to be working.

  I respectfully interrupted. "Ma'am?"

  She looked up, her eyes red. "Yes, Chambers, what is it?" She sounded professional but looked upset.

  I handed the package to her. "Master Chief wanted me to bring this package back once I got the PMA to sign it."

  She pointed to his desk. "Fine. Just set it down. I'll make sure he gets it." She returned her attention to the paperwork.

  "Umm, ma'am?"

  She looked up again. "Yes?"

  "Are you okay?"

  "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" She brushed the corner of her eye.

  "Well, I was in the repair office a little while ago." I stepped closer to her desk. "I heard the PMA going off his head at you."

  She sighed. "It's all part of the job."

  "Well, he didn't mean it."

  Her head jerked back as her eyes squinted. "Do tell."

  "After you left, he joked about it. He thought it was funny, seeing you squirm and all. I think he just likes to freak people out. It was like a game to him."

  She crossed her arms. "And your degree in psychology comes from which university?"

  I shook my head. "No, ma'am, I'm not being a smart ass. He just did it for kicks. I saw it."

  "Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Chambers, but you just have to take your ass-chewings in this business and move on — whether it was actually my fault or not. Now, was there anything else?" The way she looked at me I sensed she admired my attempt at chivalry, but she could hardly give me a blowjob there and then to express her gratitude.

  I looked around, then back to her. "Yes, ma'am. Could I take you to dinner Saturday night?"

  She cocked her head to one side. "You mean like a date?"

  I waved my hand in front of my chest. "No, absolutely not. I meant like a supervisor to division officer meeting to talk about the strategic limitations of the ballistic submarines stationed here at Sacred Loch, and what we might be able to do to extend their deep sea prowess."

  She flashed her impish grin. "No date, huh? What a shame."

  I cupped my hand be
hind my ear and leaned forward. "Pardon? I didn't quite catch that."

  She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the desk, and put her chin on her fist. "Well, if this is a matter of national security, we better sit down and discuss things over dinner. Saturday night will be fine."

  I couldn't hide my excitement and smiled broadly, but fought the urge to give a fist pump. "Great. See you Saturday." I turned to walk out and was nearly at the door when she called me. I turned around. "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Thanks, Zac," she said softly.

  I smiled. "No problem." I rounded the corner out of her sight, then gave a fist pump.

  Chapter 22

  The taxi pulled up in front of Darcy's apartment, or flat, as the Scots called it. I told the cabbie to keep it running while I bounded up the single flight of stairs.

  Darcy had told me some time ago that she could always spot an American walking around town. Not because of the short hair, but because of the jeans, t-shirts, tennis shoes, and usually a baseball cap. She remarked that she liked the way the British tended to wear slacks and shirts with collars. It looked like they made more of an effort, she said, more so than the ultra-casual attire us Yanks paraded around in.

  Earlier that day, I'd gone out and bought a pair of beige Haggar slacks and a yellow polo shirt. It cost a small fortune and I looked like a golfer — without the enormous belly hanging over my beltline — all in hopes of impressing her.

  I knocked on her door armed with a box of dark chocolates and a wicked smile. She didn't have to worry about her weight, so I figured she wouldn't yell at me for bringing the wrong thing — and they were cheaper than flowers.

  The door opened and she stood there with the most gorgeous smile imaginable. She made me feel special with just a simple look. Once my eyes left her face and traveled down, I was captivated by her powder blue blouse with ruffles trailing down the front over the button path, and frills on the cuffs. Sharply creased navy blue pants hugged her hips tightly, then hung loose over the rest of her legs, down to her open-toed high heel shoes, which put us nearly eye-to-eye. To hell with the chocolates, I wanted to eat her.

  When I noticed my lobster brooch pinned above her left breast I realized I might be in with a chance of more than just a goodnight kiss.

  I managed a hard gulp. "Wow, you look fantastic, ma'am— I mean, Darcy."

  She brushed the tip of my nose with her finger. "You don't scrub up too bad yourself. In fact, you look very handsome."

  I'm not sure, but I may have blushed. If I did, I hoped she wouldn't have seen that as unmanly. When I handed her the chocolates, she purred — as I'd hoped she would. She set them on a side table next to the door and we headed for the waiting taxi.

  I hadn't offered my arm, but she slipped her hand underneath my elbow and looped her arm through mine. That made it feel like a real date and my chest pushed itself out a little farther without any conscious effort on my part.

  I booked a table at Diane's as it was supposed to be one of the finer establishments in the area. I wasn't used to taking out a classy lady, but after a taxi ride, chocolates, and a new shirt and trousers, I could hardly take her to Bill's Burger Bar for the buy-one-get-one-free special.

  The date was going to break me, but I didn't care. I wanted to spend time with her and get to know her better. If we had sex, that would be a bonus, but that wasn't my primary motivator. To see her smile and knowing I impressed her would be enough for me to feel satisfied. I wanted her approval and to know I could live up to the expectations of a woman of her caliber.

  We arrived at the restaurant and the maître d' showed us to our table. Darcy looked impressed when he removed the 'Reserved' sign. The red linen cloth nearly touched the floor and the flames from the candlelight reflected off the cut crystal glasses already placed on the table. Both of our place settings had three glasses for each of us. What the hell would I do with three glasses? That was going to be tricky.

  After seating us, the host handed each of us a leather-bound menu and walked away. An extra lump nudged my Adam's apple as I looked at the prices.

  Darcy leaned across the table. "Zac," she whispered, "this is very nice of you, but since it's a business dinner I should pay. You know, expense account kind of thing."

  I held my hand up. "Nope. This is my treat. I insist."

  "Can we at least go Dutch?"

  I shook my head.

  She drew a sharp breath and refocused on the menu.

  A waiter appeared and offered me a wine list. I thanked him and he left me to make a choice. I studied the list carefully, but wouldn't have been able to pronounce half of them. To save myself embarrassment, I decided to order by the number. The number thirty-two looked pretty good, then I realized that was the price. Thirty-two pounds, which was about forty-eight dollars. Sweat tickled my forehead. I took a casual swipe to clear it hoping Darcy wouldn't notice.

  She leaned forward again. "Look, Zac, I'm quite particular about my wine. How about this? We'll decide what we want to eat, then I'll pick a wine that will complement it." She covered the side of her mouth and whispered. "And knowing me, it might be on the pricey side, so I insist on paying for the wine. Okay?"

  I was embarrassed, but it was better than confessing I wouldn't have enough to pay the bill if we had dinner and the number thirty-two bottle of wine. I drew a deep breath. "Well, it goes against the grain, but if you insist."

  She reached across and patted my hand. "I do."

  I ordered the seafood lasagna and Darcy decided on the grilled sea bass. I thought she might have ordered the lobster, but at upwards of fifty dollars, I was glad she didn't. She ordered the wine to go with our meals and didn't even order by number, but pronounced the name.

  The waiter returned with a bottle of white wine and showed Darcy the label. She opened her hand toward me.

  "Of course, Madame." He turned it toward me.

  I caught Darcy's eye, and she nodded. I leaned forward and examined the label. Mumbo Jumbo. "Fine," I said, offering a nod of approval.

  "Would Monsieur care to taste it?"

  Another glance at Darcy earned another nod.

  "Sure." I reached over and grabbed the big wine glass, placing it on the table in front of him to pour the wine.

  "Of course, sir. I shall remove the red wine glasses for you and Madame. My apologies." He took both the large glasses and placed them on the table behind him. "If I may have your white wine glass, sir."

  There was only one stemmed glass left. The straight one must have been for the water. I moved the glass with the stem on it to him and he dribbled a little wine in the bottom.

  Darcy watched me. I had a little sniff as I had seen them do in the movies, then drank it. I didn't know what I was tasting for, but it didn't make me gag, so I nodded. I looked at Darcy. "Excellent choice, my dear. Bravo."

  Darcy covered her mouth as laughter lines creased the skin around her eyes.

  We sipped wine as Darcy filled me in on her father's horseracing empire while we waited for dinner. Her dad wasn't some punk who liked to bet, more like a mogul. She was a bit vague, but it sounded like he had a few politicians in his back pocket for some of the licenses he had been granted. He even had a few horses that won the Kentucky Derby as well as a lot of other races. I couldn't believe she and Billy Earl came from the same state. Then I silently asked God to strike me dead if they were cousins.

  The waiter placed plates covered by silver domes in front of us, then removed the covers in unison. Darcy's bass stretched across the plate, colorfully decorated with parsley and ornate radishes. Peeled prawns circled my lasagna, adding elegance to the plate.

  "So, Zac, why did you decide to reenlist?" She stopped to sip her wine. "I know you wanted to go to the Orient again, but there must have been some attraction to keep you in the Navy besides Filipino women."

  I shrugged. "There was nothing for me back home, so why not get paid to see the world?"

  She stabbed a piece of broccoli from her side dish. "So… are
you glad you re-upped?"

  I looked at her sincerely. "I couldn't be happier."

  "Even though you're in some shithole and not sailing the Orient?"

  "'Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.'"

  Her brows creased. "I beg your pardon?"

  "Shakespeare. Much Ado About Nothing."

  "Holy smoke, Chambers. I sure have one heck of a lot to do to get to know you." She smiled, then returned her attention to her fish.

  I studied some Shakespeare a few years back when I tried to impress one of my girlfriend's father. It worked on him and it seemed to work on Darcy as well. I inwardly smirked at being able to baffle her with my understated brilliance.

  We ate in peace for a little while. I assumed she was still trying to figure me out.

  Darcy extended her fork with a juicy morsel of fish on the end of it. "Would you like to try some of my sea bass?"

  I leaned forward and let her slip it into my mouth. "Mmm… delicious." I stabbed one of my prawns from my plate. "Here, try this."

  She sucked it off the fork then looked at me as she licked her lips. "That was the tastiest thing I've had since France."

  I dabbed my mouth with the napkin and attempted an English accent. "Yes, that was a rather delightful baguette."

  Her foot touched mine and she winked. "The dessert was even better."

  We embarked on a little game of footsie which made me grow hard. She really was something else.

  "Zac, have you ever thought about becoming an officer?" Her shoe was off and her bare foot traveled up the inside of my leg, creating another solid twitch.

  I stared at my plate a moment, taking time to focus on her question and not on what her foot was doing. "Yeah, right." I took a bite of lasagna, looking around as I chewed. The place was busy but no one could see our little game under the table. Her foot kept stroking my leg. "That's a pretty big step just so we can enjoy a little… umm…"

  She opened her eyes wide. "Goodwill?"

  I chuckled. "Yeah, goodwill."