Mistaken Identity

by Christopher Maddox

  The walls were covered with an array of photographs of what I assumed to be her family because I recognized her brother in several of them. There were also a lot of photographs of Seattle and the surrounding coastline that lent a feeling of openness to the room.

  The backyard was more than spacious with a classic-styled rectangular pool in the center of meticulously-manicured gardens overlooking the sound.

  We sat by the pool with Charley in tow, and it wasn’t a minute before her housekeeper came out with a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and an assortment of fruits and cheeses. Any thoughts I had about her being a gold digger had vanished, and there was no doubt that her company paid her very well.

  “Henrietta, this is Alex, Alex Thompson.”

  I stood up, took the tray from her, and set it down on the table. I reached out and shook her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Henrietta.”

  She smiled courteously. “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Thompson. Will there be anything else, Shannen?”

  “No. Thank you, Henrietta. That will be all.”

  My eyes followed Henrietta for a moment while she made her way back to the house.

  “I don’t know what I would do without her. She has worked for me for almost eight years now. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t get anything done, not at home at least.”

  I opened the wine and filled our glasses. I looked briefly around and chuckled. “Well, I’m impressed and a bit overwhelmed.”

  “I’m sorry. What were you expecting?”

  I shook my head as I looked over the gardens, the vast expanse of water, and back toward the house. “I’m not quite sure what I was expecting, but it sure wasn’t this.” Actually, I was overwhelmed for the first time that I could recall. Here was a beautiful, sophisticated woman that, less than twenty-four hours ago, I assumed was a call girl, and I had propositioned her.

  “It’s really no big deal. It’s just like every other house in the neighborhood.”

  I handed her one of the glasses of wine. “Yes, but what a neighborhood.” Everything about this woman reeked of wealth, and I really began to wonder why me. Why would she even think about going out with me? Perhaps, I had become too accustomed to women wanting to go out with me because I had money, and as a result I had become too guarded.

  “What does Clayton do?” I asked trying to find out more about her.

  She smiled affectionately. “He’s in school. He is attending the University of Washington.”

  Even though it was late afternoon, the sun intense, and it was still quite warm. “Alex, do you mind if I take off my jacket?”

  I grinned and couldn’t suppress a slight chuckle. “You must be kidding me. I’ve been dying for you to take it off all afternoon.”

  She laughed as she removed her jacket and tossed it on the chair next to her. “That’s one of the things that first attracted me to you. You are not the least bit intimidated by me.”

  We clinked our glasses together and took a sip. “Perhaps I don’t have enough information. Should I be?” I asked.

  She undid the top button on her blouse allowing me to see the top inch or so of her lovely dark-brown cleavage. In the late afternoon sun, her skin looked almost golden-brown.

  She grinned demurely. “I don’t think it’s possible to intimidate you.”

  “You know almost everything there is to know about me. What about you? Who is Shannen Louise Carter?”

  “There is not much to tell. I grew up in Oklahoma and went to the University of Oklahoma where I received a bachelor’s degree in marketing. I then went to Harvard to study law, and after I graduated, I was hired by Babbitt and Malone right out of law school. The ink wasn’t even dry on my diploma yet,” she teased with the cutest giggle.

  I shook my head. “I pretty much already knew that. Not the specifics, but there was no doubt that you must of had an impressive education. No, what I was looking for was who are you? Where do you come from? And I don’t mean what state. You are a gorgeous and exotic woman. What is your family history, your background? What are your likes and dislikes?”

  She laughed and took another sip of wine. “Well, let’s take the easy questions first. In alphabetical order, I am African, American Indian, English, French, Hispanic, and Irish.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “That pretty much covers most of the food groups.”

  She smiled as she looked down at Charlie. “Food groups, that is an interesting choice of words,” she grinned.

  I smiled at the obvious implication that she had made out of my comment about food groups. “Which of the American Indian tribes are you descended from?”

  She grinned. “Well, if you are from Oklahoma, it’s almost a given that you will be part of The Cherokee Nation.”

  I grinned as I stared at her for a moment. “That explains the high cheekbones and the beautiful slant of your eyes. Do you know what your African heritage is? I mean what country?”

  “I didn’t know until recently. Records of slaves that were brought to this country weren’t always kept very well, so out of curiosity, I got a DNA test and found out that I have both Kenyan and Zambian heritage.”

  I took a deep breath and smiled. “Isn’t it amazing how the good Lord could put all of those pieces of DNA together and come up with someone as uniquely beautiful as you? That explains your beautiful skin tone, your high cheekbones, your hair, and your eyes. God only knows what beauty lurks beneath your clothing.”

  “Are you always this forward when you are with your lady friends?”

  I shook my head. “No, but like I said, I am terribly intrigued by you. Where do you think that beautiful bottom of yours came from?”

  She stood up and topped off our glasses. “Why, Mr. Thompson, that is a very personal question, don’t you think?”

  I chuckled and stood up with her. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not asking you if I can see it. All I want to know right now is where you think it came from.”

  She giggled and blushed slightly. “Well, since it’s on the smallish side, I think it probably came from Zambia.”

  “What about your, uh … uh?”

  “I know where you’re headed, and I’m not answering any more questions about where I think various parts of my anatomy came from,” she laughed.

  I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “You are funny.”

  “Why, thank you, Alex. Would you like to take a short walk down along the shoreline with me and see if we can find anything that may have washed up on the shore?”

  “That sounds like fun. What about Charley?”

  She grinned and handed Charley to me. “He can come, but he has to be carried. His little feet just get too dirty in the sand near the waterline.” She encircled my arm with hers, and we headed down toward the water.

  “What do you think Clayton is going to do after he graduates?”

  “He’s probably going to go back to Oklahoma to live with his older brother. My parents are gone. They passed away three years ago. My mother died of cancer, and my father passed away from a broken heart six months later.”

  “Oh, Shannen, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ve observed several times where one spouse passes away and the other one follows soon after. It is incredibly sad, but it is a wonderful testament to their love for one another.”

  “It was terribly hard when dad passed,” her voice cracking, “but I understand why he didn’t want to stay behind.”

  We walked along the shoreline for half an hour and found a couple small pieces of driftwood, some shells, and some washed up seaweed. Our conversation covered a little of everything, but it was centered mostly on Seattle, the waterfront, business, and politics.

  She stopped and turned toward me. “Charley appears to be very content in your arms.”

  “As should you,” I replied with a somewhat sheepish smile.

  She grinned, leaned gently into me, and gave me a small, light kiss on my lips. “That’s for being so good to Charley.”

  I returned
her gentle kiss in kind and chuckled. “Charley could easily become my new best friend.”

  She took my arm again and tugged me back toward the house. ‘I’m getting a little cold. Would you mind if we went back to the house?”

  I had already noticed that her nipples looked as though they were razor sharp and could most likely cut glass. “I can tell.” I looked into her eyes and then down to her nipples knowing she would see me.

  She giggled. “I think you must have been a bad boy when you were younger.”

  I gently squeezed the arm that was looped through mine. “I am still a bad boy,” I said with a smile.

  The house was a welcome relief once we got inside because it had turned cold rather quickly. I hadn’t noticed before, but the fireplace in the family room had a large stack of firewood next to it. The fireplace itself was already stacked with wood. All she had to do was go over, turned on the gas lighter, and within a few minutes, she had a nice, warm fire going.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee to help ward off the chill?”

  I nodded. “That sounds great.”

  She headed toward the kitchen counter and filled the coffee pot with water. “How do you like it?”

  Unfortunately, just as she asked me, I was staring at her incredible bottom. “I love it,” I said knowing that I was probably going to get in trouble. She turned around and caught me looking right at Zambia.

  She sighed. “I meant your coffee. How do you like your coffee?”

  I smiled and walked toward her. “Black. I like it hot and black.”

  She laughed and returned to what she was doing. “That’s easy; I have to have cream and a little sugar with mine.”

  I didn’t know if she meant that as an innuendo, so I left it alone without commenting. I closed what little distance there was between us. She sensed that I was close to her because she stopped what she was doing and stood still. I felt certain that she would let me kiss her, so I bent down and kissed her on the side of her neck just below her ear. She smelled wonderful with a slight dab of perfume, and I couldn’t help the barely audible moan that left my throat.

  She turned around, looked up, and placed her arms around my neck. “I wondered when you were going to kiss me.” She tilted her head up, parted her lips, and closed her eyes just as my lips gently touched hers. Soon, it became a passionate kiss, full of lust and desire. Her lips were soft and luscious, her mouth, warm and moist.

  She leaned her full body into me as our passion deepened. Our embrace lasted for several minutes, and by the time we parted to catch our breath, we were both terribly turned on.

  “Wow, Mr. Thompson, you certainly know how to kiss a girl. That was nice. No, that was better than nice.”

  I hugged her tightly and kissed her neck again. “Your mouth is incredible,” I said as I bent down to kiss her again.

  She placed her finger up to her lips. “I think that I need to finish this coffee, or it might not ever get made, and as much as I don’t want to right now, we need to talk about some ground rules.”

  I looked at her inquisitively. In all my years of dating and being with women, I’ve never had anyone talk about ground rules before we had sex unless she was a professional. “Okay, what kind of ground rules? Are they going to be something like Markus of Queensberry Rules?”

  She laughed. “No. I’m afraid that they are not going to be anything like that. I actually love to be hit below the belt.” She turned around and kissed me ever so softly again. “How does grilled salmon with a shallot-caper butter, fresh peas, and a light garden salad sound for dinner?”

  I was amazed that she was asking me to stay for dinner. The evening was going far better than I had expected, and I was beginning to think that she just might like me enough to let me get closer to her, much closer. I smiled. “If it’s not too much trouble, I would love to stay. Is your housekeeper still here?”

  She laughed. “Goodness, no, she left right after she brought our wine to us this afternoon. Why, does the thought of me cooking dinner this evening frighten you?” she teased.

  I laughed. “No, I’m not frightened, not at all. I would love to stay for dinner. I’m just surprised that you would offer because we just met.”

  “I’m glad you are staying. I love to cook, but I hate to cook just for myself. The fact that we just met and don’t really know each other is why we must have some ground rules.”

  I smiled. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure, open us another bottle of Sauvignon Blanc or a bottle of Champagne.”

  “After dinner, I’ll take a cab back to the hotel. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to take me if we drink much more. Which would you prefer, wine or Champagne?”

  “Oh, that’s sweet, Alex. I would like to have Champagne with our salmon.”

  She told me where to find the Champagne, and I poured us a glass. “Alex, how do you sleep?”

  I held my glass up and touched the rim of it to hers. “My God, you are gorgeous. What did you just ask me? Oh, yes, you asked me how I slept. I usually sleep very well. Why, do you have trouble sleeping?”

  She giggled. “No, silly, I meant how do you sleep, naked or with pajamas?”

  I laughed. “I can go either way, but I prefer to be naked. What about you?”

  She smiled and touched my cheek on the way to the refrigerator to get the salmon. “That depends on who I am sleeping with and how cold it is. I like warm, cuddly pajamas, but I like to be naked when I have someone to share the bed.”

  “I think that eHarmony would be happy with us so far,” I teased.

  “You mentioned taking a cab home, and I really appreciate the fact that you don’t want me to drive after drinking this much. However, if you would rather stay here and not go back to your hotel this evening, it’s alright with me.”

  Now that took me by surprise, and I didn’t know exactly how to respond. This was not what I had expected, but then, she has spent the entire day doing what I hadn’t expected. “In your spare bedroom, I presume.”

  She smiled as she prepared the salmon. “Not necessarily. That depends on whether you agree to my ground rules or not.”

  At this point, I was willing to agree to just about anything to get in her bed. I figured that if she let me get that close, nature would take over from there. “Oh, yes, I momentarily forgot about the aforementioned ground rules. What are you proposing, shackles and restraints?”

  She laughed and shook her head as she laid the salmon fillets on the counter. “No, I wasn’t thinking about anything quite that colonial or draconian; although, that sounds like it might be fun,” she teased.

  I chuckled. “You, Shannen, are one of the most interesting women I have ever met. I hate to admit it, but at this point, I would probably agree to almost anything.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think that my ground rules are going to be as bad as what you might be thinking right now.”

  I smiled at her and wondered what kind of wonderful torture she had in mind for me. I was thinking in terms of a little bondage with some gentle flogging thrown in. I could handle that. Sure, there would be a little pain, but there was bound to be a little pleasure mixed in there with it. Besides, I was beginning to visualize her in a maroon bustier with black, lacy trim, black high heels, and a three-foot riding crop, which she would use to whack away at my skinny white bottom.

  I smiled and said in my most grandiose voice. “Okay, in light of the fact that you are going feed me this scrumptious meal and then subject me to what I hope is some sort of exquisite torture, I think that I am willing to acquiesce to your terms, my lady.”

  She laughed outrageously. “I fear that you are going to be terribly disappointed in what I have in mind.”

  I chuckled. “As long as the salmon I worth its weight, I will be your wanton slave.”

  She giggled. “That’s pathetic. Are you always this easy?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I have to admit that I am terribly intrigued as to w
hat I’m going to have to agree to in order to get under the covers with you.”

  “Okay, here it is. Obviously, we are attracted to each other, and if this attraction continues, we will probably end up having sex.”

  At this point, I couldn’t help my boyish grin or conceal my excitement. I felt like Charley when he jumps up and down, trying to get her to pick him up so he can lick her.

  “However, given the fact that we just met, don’t you think that it would be foolish for us to jump in bed and exchange DNA without knowing a little more about each other?”

  “Okay, that’s a good idea. My mother’s name was Patricia, my father’s was Daniel, and my first dog’s name was …”

  She smiled, shook her head, and interrupted me. “That is not what I had in mind, and somehow, I think that you know it. Let’s put it this way. We are not going to have sex until I know that you don’t have any STD’s. I can tell you that I am disease free, but you wouldn’t know for sure. If you tell me that you are clean, I would like to believe you, but anymore, it is a life and death decision to go to bed with someone you don’t know.”

  “My grandmother’s name was …”

  “Oh, stop,” she said, giving me a look. “That’s pathetic. Don’t you want to know, for sure, that I’m clean?”

  “If you were to tell me that you are clean, I think that I would believe you.”

  She grinned as she shook her head. “Yeah, you’re a man, and you want in my panties.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “You got me there on both counts. What about condoms?”

  “Alex, condoms are fine, but I’m not a one-night stand. Do you want to remember our first time together with a wall between us?”

  “I know you’re right, but it would be safe.”

  “Do you have any condoms because I don’t?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t have any. I never carry them with me.”