Time to Control

by Marie Pinkerton

  "Broadway fan?"

  "Huge," I confessed, letting my inner Gleek out. "The other guys in IT listen to their rock or alternative music on their headphones, and I'm listening to show tunes."

  Eddie crinkled his eyes at me. Swoon. "Miriam's caught me listening to them as well." Double swoon.

  "Look, it's Edward Valenti-Kirby!" Eddie stiffened as he was recognized.

  "Your adoring fans?" I teased without thinking, a hand flying up to cover my mouth as soon as the faux-paus crossed my lips. "I'm sorry, that was terribly inappropriate."

  "Inappropriate was that article," he responded grimly, getting up to sign the napkins the teenage girls thrust in his hands.

  Ah, what the Hell, I told myself while waiting for Eddie to finish. "If you don't mind me asking, what's the problem? You're young, successful, and handsome, to state the obvious." I bit my lip, hoping I wasn't going too far.

  "It makes me feel like a bull put out for stud. Or a horse up for sale."

  "So take yourself off the market.”

  "You offering?"

  I choked on the coffee, the hot liquid scalding the roof of my mouth. "So, how about that source code?"

  He looked abashed. "I'm sorry, now that was inappropriate. An attractive young woman like you would have to be married. I do have to know, though -- is his name Lucy?" His eyes sparkled as he couldn't help teasing.

  “Yes, I married Lucifer.” I paused for the normal look of horror. Do people really think I don't hear this often? I learned good retorts by the time I graduated kindergarten. "No, I'm not married." I waved my ring-less hand in the air. "The hours I put in at the office, or working from home, plus a non-standard woman's job tends to send the guys running."

  "I hear ya."

  We finished our coffee in companionable silence, and headed back.

  Eddie gestured for me to go on into his office, and stopped to talk to Miriam. I strained to hear, but had no luck. Was he talking about me? Asking her to get us coffee next time? Asking her to move up my flight? Telling her to hold his calls, that he was going to ravish me behind the closed doors? I sighed. My mind was much better suited to innovative leaps in code logic, not deducing the thoughts of a man.

  Eddie and I wrapped up going over the IT due diligence documentation in early afternoon, plenty of time for me to go back to the hotel and freshen up before standing in line at the TKTS booth for discount show tickets.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Eligible Bachelor.” I had to get one last tease in before I left. “Sir.” I tacked on for good measure.

  He grinned back at me, his eyes showing their crinkles yet again. Good thing I was leaving; otherwise I'd be swooning for real. “Thank you for coming. I'm sure I'll see you again soon.”

  I lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. I was too busy imagining him naked.

  Back at the hotel, I dropped off my laptop and changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and noticed the message light blinking on the phone. That was odd. Everyone should have been calling my cell. I called down for the message, and went downstairs to pick up the delivery waiting for me.

  “What'd I get?” I bounced on my heels, peering over the high counter to see what the package was. I was almost disappointed when the clerk returned with a plain white envelope. I tore into it to find a ticket to West Side Story for that evening, orchestra row F, seat 107.

  “Holy good seats, Batman!” I squealed. I turned the envelope over, but there were no markings. “Who delivered this?”

  The clerk shook his head. “Just a delivery service, no name.”

  Well, it could be Mom and Dad. They knew I was here, and had been known to do similar things in the past. When I went on a company cruise, they had made sure I had a cheese plate and bottle of wine waiting in the room. Of course, it could have been IDI, as well – they also had left a bottle of wine in the room on the same cruise (I was very drunk that trip). Yes, I decided, it must be from the company, for thanks for going the extra mile and helping with the acquisition. There's a first for everything.

  Since I didn't have to buy my own ticket (and seeing the price stamped on the piece of cardboard, that was quite some savings), I had just enough time to go out and get a new dress for the night. Maybe even one that I wouldn't normally own, or wear. Most of my clothes were suitable for the office or lounging about at home, and even the office attire was more business casual than dressy. I flirted with the idea of even expensing the dress as I slid them around on racks at Macy's, but ended up paying for it myself.

  I was quite pleased with the end result. Everyone had always told me that red was a great color for my skin tone and hair, but my personality was one to hide in the IT cave, and not bring attention to myself. This dress was the opposite. The fit flattered my larger-than-average curves, and I liked to think that the high heels (a departure from my usual sandals) emphasized my long legs. The bodice of the dress was clingy in all the right places, and scooped down enough to make me feel self conscious, but not too low to feel slutty. The hemline for the full skirt hit right below the knees, and flowed nicely around me when I twirled. Not that I'd be twirling at the theater, but it was still a fun dress. And red. Sexy 'I'm a woman' red.

  I passed Sephora on the way back from Macy's, and gave into temptation. The sales girls there helped me get lipstick to complement the dress, and a light powder to even my complexion. That was more makeup than I normally wore, but I could handle it this night. I was going to the theater, and had a great seat. Might as well look the part.

  As usual, I was early for the show. I didn't mind. After spending several minutes looking around the Gershwin theater, I made my way to my seat to read the Playbill. I glanced around the theater a few times after the lights dimmed the first time, watching it fill up with hundreds of theatergoers, loving my seat. The view was going to be spectacular.

  “Pardon me, I believe I'm in the seat next to you.” I automatically moved my legs to the side to let the gentleman pass, then recognition of the voice dawned.

  “You!” I spluttered.

  “Me,” Eddie replied, a smile stretching across his face.

  “You--”

  “Quiet, the show's about to begin,” he cut me off as the lights turned down.

  * * *

  I got up and stretched at intermission, and waited for the other people on our row to leave. “Excuse me for a moment, I need to slip out to the ladies' room.”

  “Can I get you something to drink? Glass of wine?”

  I hesitated, then agreed. “White, please.”

  When I returned, Eddie handed me the glass, and leaned back against the row in front. “Having fun?”

  “You know, most guys that want to go on a date, actually ask.” I couldn't believe I said that, but things were weird. He bought me a ticket to a show. He was responsible for evaluating my company's technical future. He was one of the most eligible bachelor's in New York. The most eligible, in my opinion. Edward Valenti-Kirby could not, could not be interested in me.

  “I didn't know if you'd say yes.”

  “So you forced my hand?” I sipped at my drink, wanting to chug it, surprised I was keeping my cool.

  “If you said no, you'd miss out on seeing _West Side Story_. It closes in a few months, and you'd regret not going. I was looking out for you.”

  “Next time ask,” I said, and sat down, instantly regretting it as his eyes went right down my dress.

  “I have two tickets to _Romeo and Juliet_ tomorrow night. They are not as good of seats,” he admitted, “but not bad. Would you like to go to the theater with me?”

  “See, that wasn't so hard, was it?” I beamed at him as the lights dimmed and he took his seat again. “And yes, I'd love to.”

  Eddie shifted in his seat, and his leg ended up pressed up against mine. I must say, it was quite preferable to the guy in the next seat from the plane ride up here. Why is it that guys must always sprawl their legs out so far? They can't be that well hung, can they? My thoughts drifted to how
endowed Eddie was, and I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart.

  “If you close your eyes, you can't see Maria in her dress. Yours is much prettier.” Eddie leaned over and whispered in my ear.

  “If you're watching me instead of the show, you're not seeing it either,” I responded.

  He shushed me, and took my hand and rested it on his knee. Now my eyes wanted to close in a swoon. I could hold his hand forever. I settled for the rest of the show.

  Since we were in the front of the theater, we went ahead and waited for the majority of the patrons to leave. “Can I show you around town tomorrow? See the sights?”

  If he was seriously flirting with me, I was going to flirt right on back. I never had to see him after this series of meetings. Once the buyout was through, I'd never hear from him again. Why not just relax, and be me? Have fun, and for once, see what the hoopla was about with a guy? “Spend some time together?”

  “That too.” He cocked a grin.

  I smiled back. “That'd be fun,” I said, and meant it.

  * * *

  Eddie picked me up in front of my hotel the next morning, a look of disapproval on his face. “This is where they put you up?”

  “It's fine,” I assured him. “I'm perfectly comfortable here.”

  “Hmmph.”

  I guessed he stayed at one of the fancy hotels, where the room was the size of my entire apartment. “Where should we go first?”

  After we checked out the lions at the NY Public Library, we headed down Fifth Avenue towards Central Park. A window display at a vintage jeweler's caught my eye, with gaudy flapper costume jewelry right in line with my mother's tastes, and I couldn't resist. “Would you mind? I'd like to get something for my mom.”

  He laughed. “Just stay away from the engagement rings. Especially if there's any photographers around.” I shuddered along with him, not wanting to think about that kind of publicity. Also, Alan would kill me if I let myself get caught in a compromising situation with the man investigation our buyout.

  I found a necklace that was within my price range (the tackiness probably helped), and browsed through the rest of the store while the salesclerk wrapped it in a much prettier box with ribbon. I found a case of jewelry from the Renaissance, and was oohing and ahhing over them when Eddie came over.

  “Careful, there's rings in here,” I teased.

  “I'll take my chances. What are you looking at?”

  “See that ring? The gold one, with the hands and the ruby? Look at the detail on that. Isn't it simply gorgeous?”

  “We just received that in a shipment a few days ago. Would you like to see it, ma'am?” The sales clerk came over, and pulled it out at Eddie's nod.

  “Um, okay,” I said, not really expecting to be able to see the ring up close. This was the kind of store that if you needed to ask about the price, you didn't want to know, and there was no visible price tag on the ancient ring.

  “The ring is one hundred percent gold, made by craftsmen in a small English town, circa 1540. We have the full provenance that come with the sale.” The clerk rubbed the ring with a polishing cloth, then handed it to me.

  “Wow, it's big for an older ring, isn't it?” I said, examining it.

  “Go ahead and put it on,” he recommended. “This is not a ring to get sized. And yes, the ring was supposedly designed for a larger woman of royalty at the time. That makes it able to fit many women nowadays,” he said very diplomatically. In other words, I thought, it'd fit my large fingers.

  I slid it on the middle finger on my right hand, but it wouldn't pass the second knuckle. The ring finger on that hand was a bit too loose.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Eddie said, grabbing my left hand, and slid the ring onto my ring finger.

  The room spun, and I closed my eyes to regain my balance. When I opened them, we weren't in the jewelry store.

  “Well this is weird,” I told myself, grabbing Eddie's hand tightly. At least he was with me.

  We were in the middle of a village, dirt streets with two story stone and wooden houses and stores alongside us. Eddie and I were one of many couples standing in front of a old church, but that wasn't all that was out of the ordinary. All of the other couples were dressed in period costumes to match the medieval town, and when I glanced down at myself, I was wearing the same maxi dress and cardigan I had been wearing around New York. If I was back in Texas, I'd think I was at the Scarborough Renaissance Festival.

  “I'm dreaming,” I thought in relief. “I passed out, hit my head, and am dreaming.” I smiled brightly at Eddie, who didn't match the rough home-spun trousers and linen shirts of the other men, but still looked darn good in his slacks and button-up shirt. He smelled better than our neighbors, and I stepped closer to him to breathe in his clean scent. Ah, heck with it. I put my arms around him and buried my nose into his shoulder. He obligingly put his arm around me – not that he had much other places to put it. Dream Eddie had no traces of the gruff Eddie. This Eddie, I liked. A lot.

  “What's going on?” I ignored his question as a priest left the church and started to address the crowd.

  “As God's representative on Earth, I will now bless any new unions.”

  Eddie squeezed me closer, and I stood on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Relax, it's just a wedding.” Did I just say that?

  “Will all couples requesting the blessing please step to the front and face each other, men on the right.”

  Do I want to marry him? Ah, heck, I'm in dreamland. He's gorgeous, smart, successful, and did I mention good looking? With my inhibitions down due to dreaming, I saw no reason not to marry him. Besides, the wedding night with someone as well-built as him would be spectacular. I took a step forward, and after giving me a sharp look, Eddie stepped forward as well.

  “Men, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, wilt thy love her, and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?” The priest sounded bored, but the chorus of men answering 'aye' was anything but. Eddie looked deeply into my eyes as he responded in the affirmative. A little creepy with the intensity, but again, dreamland.

  “Women, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, wilt thy love him, and honor him, keep him and guard him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband, and forsaking all others on account of him, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  “Aye.” I felt my eyes sparkling with excitement and emotions. I looked down at my left hand, at the ring gleaming in the sun.

  We proceeded into the church with the others, and finished the simple ceremony, received the priest's blessing, and provided our names for the official records. This was the most realistic dream I had ever had – the Latin even sounded accurate, and not just mental gibberish. When we all left the small church at the end of the ritual, the courtyard was filled with cheers of the other participant's family and friends, and I looked around to see all of the other newly married couples partaking in their first kiss as newlyweds. “We should join the crowd, and all,” I told Eddie, reaching a hand up to run my fingers along his jawline.

  “You think?” He said, and leaned down and kissed me thoroughly. When we came up for air, my toes were tingling.

  “We're married,” I informed him, drawing my arms around his neck.

  “That we are indeed.” He tightened his arms around me in return, holding me securely. He ran his fingertips in small circles on the back of my neck.

  I arched my body into him, and felt him react to my closeness. “What say we find a place a little more private?”

  Eddie didn't say anything verbally in response, but swept an arm under my legs, sweeping me up into his arms. I wrapped my arms more closely around his neck, and angled my mouth onto his. I didn't know how long it would be before his arms would give out, and I wanted to get as mu
ch kissing in before I fell to the ground and woke up.

  The next thing I knew we were in a barn of some sort, and Eddie was putting me down on a pile of hay gently. He kept kissing me, and I kissed back in between gasps of air.

  “Eddie,” I moaned, and he started sliding his hands up my long skirt, squeezing my calves, then knees, then thighs, then inner thighs as I parted my legs for him. I tried to pull him on top of me, but he resisted, and instead poked his head beneath the swath of fabric.

  “What are you wearing?” Eddie was running his hands everywhere around my bike shorts, touching my private spots, fumbling around the waist.

  I wasn't about to tell him I didn't want my thighs chaffing walking around town. “Shorts, now remove them, will you?” I groaned as his fingers went back between my legs, rubbing me through the soft fabric. He grabbed a handful of material at my butt and yanked the shorts off, tossing them to the side. He sighed as he encountered the panties I had on underneath, and almost ripped them off in his hurry. I did a sharp intake of breath as cool air hit me, followed immediately by his hands exploring every inch of the exposed skin.

  I returned the favor his fingers were giving me by unfastening the belt holding his trousers up, lowering his pants to get access to him. I took him in my hand, and he shuddered beneath my touch.

  Eddie started to lower himself down, moving my hand away and using his to position himself.

  “Wait.” He paused, a flash of physical frustration showing on his face, as I collected enough air to talk. “I was waiting until marriage,” I told him, trying to get the point across without actually saying “I'm the last remaining virgin in New York!”

  “Then it's a good thing we're married,” Eddie told me in reply, and eased in gently.

  “Oh!” I gasped as he made the first access. Eddie moved slow, kissing and caressing the rest of me. I felt muscles I didn't know I had start relaxing, and wiggled my hips and spread my legs more. He increased his pace in kind. I tried kissing him, but was having a hard time not getting blown away by the sensations going on below.