by C. C. Coburn
“There are always adult education courses being run at the various colleges. Those are mostly nighttime classes held there on the premises, but if you wanted to run daytime classes from home, then I’m sure you would find some takers.”
Mimi’s eyes were as big as saucers. “I have business in home?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I need kurr…eaning rady first!”
Beth laughed. Back to the cleaner! “Yep, we’ll get you someone and a little business of your own. That way you’ll meet lots more people too.”
“Oh, Bess, you are such good friend.” Mimi mopped at the tears welling in her eyes. “I not want to reave America.”
Beth rubbed her arm in comfort. “You don’t have to—at least for a while. I thought Toshi’s posting was for two years?”
Mimi nodded. “But then we go Tokyo. I not think I can fit in Tokyo anymore.”
Beth smiled. “Let’s worry about that later, okay? For now you’re living here in Denver, my favorite neighbor, and soon to be an Ikebana teacher—with a cleaner!”
“Hmm…” Peter Grenville murmured as he looked into Molly’s ear. He removed his instrument and glanced up at Beth. “Otitis media,” he confirmed. “I’d like her to see an ENT specialist as soon as possible. He’ll probably want to perform a myringotomy.”
“A what?” Beth asked, alarmed.
Peter Grenville stood up and packed his instruments away. “Tympanostomy tubes. It’s a perfectly straightforward operation. I won’t discuss it right now in front of Molly. I’ll talk to one of my colleagues tomorrow and get you an appointment before the end of the week. Is that alright with you?”
Beth almost hugged him, she was so overcome with relief. “Yes, yes, absolutely,” she said and hugged Molly instead.
“Well, if that’s all, I think we’d better be going,” Peter Grenville told her and moved to the front door.
Beth planted kisses on each of her children’s foreheads, grabbed her coat and followed him out the door.
She was alarmed to see a shiny red Porche Boxster in the driveway. It looked far too small for two people. It also looked dammed sexy, she thought, and eased herself into the low passenger seat. She’d barely gotten her foot inside the door before Peter Grenville closed it. He sure seemed to be in a hurry to get to dinner.
Still, that was fine by her. She was looking forward to after dinner and finding out exactly what Peter Grenville knew about grown up girls’ bodies.
“These are for you,” he said, thrusting a small box of chocolates into her hand.
If this was what passed for foreplay in Peter Grenville’s book, then Beth was starting to have serious doubts about the evening ahead. She dutifully opened the box and cooed over the contents. Trust a man to give a mother chocolates.
Didn’t he know that once a woman gave birth, she was genetically predisposed to gain five pounds for every pound of chocolate consumed? She could just imagine the size of her butt after she’d gobbled the whole box. She shuddered. Not a nice thought. Then again, who was she trying to please here?
She no longer had to endure JJ acting as a dietary watchdog, counting every gram of carbs, every calorie that slipped past her lips. She should indulge herself. She never bought chocolates for herself, so maybe just one or two wouldn’t hurt? She offered the box to Peter as he reversed his purring machine out of her driveway. He shook his head and patted his stomach.
Oh dear, maybe this really was a bad mistake. He was fattening her up while keeping himself trim. Maybe he was a control freak? Like JJ.
All thoughts of what the chocolates would do to her expanding waistline were replaced by terror as Peter tore off up her street in first gear, the Porche’s engine screaming with leashed power. He changed into second and Beth’s hair blew forward over her face. She would have gripped the dash if she could have leaned forward against the G–forces exerted on her body by the speed of the vehicle.
Peter rounded the corner at the end of her street. Beth sent up a silent prayer than no cats were out prowling so early and no dogs were out so late, because they’d surely have been mown them down in Peter’s hurry to get to the restaurant. He changed smoothly into fourth and Beth made every effort to hold her hair off her face and the diet coke she’d just drunk in her stomach.
As they shot up the highway on–ramp, Peter changed into fifth gear and finally looked across at her. He was beaming with boyish pride and pleasure in his speed machine.
Beth gave up on her hair and made an effort to try and enjoy being driven very fast in a very small, very powerful sports car. The fact that it was way too cold in her opinion to be driving around at night in an open–topped car, didn’t seem to have occurred to Dr. Peter Grenville. He was obviously out to impress his date.
“So tell me, Peter,” Beth asked after swallowing a tiny mouthful of succulent chicken. Tiny, because the portions were so small and she wanted to savor every morsel. “Are there any poisons that can’t be detected on a body at autopsy?” And with that question, Beth realized she was bored with her date.
Peter glanced up, a frown of curiosity on his face. “Why do you want to know that?” he asked, swallowing a mouthful of equally succulent–looking steak.
“Oh, just making conversation.” She didn’t feel like sharing with Peter the news that she’d finally taken the leap and applied to do a forensics course at a local college. Just to keep her mind busy.
Peter was a bit too arrogant for Beth’s liking, she’d decided, and she didn’t need him, a doctor, pooh–poohing her interest in forensic science.
“Wouldn’t know,” Peter shoved a huge piece of prime fillet into his mouth and chewed with his mouth partly open. Beth decided she didn’t like his table manners. “That’s a strange thing to ask a pediatrician. Are you thinking of poisoning any of your children?”
“Of course not!” Beth tried to add some levity to the situation. “If I wanted to do away with my kids, I’d sell their body parts, make a bit of money.” She shrugged. “You know.”
Peter wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I hope you’re joking, Beth, because that’s a criminal offence, you know,” he said gravely.
Beth stared at Peter Grenville. Not only was he too arrogant by half, the man was also completely devoid of any sense of humor. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? “Of course I’m joking. I love my kids to death. I mean… to pieces. Er… Well, lots and lots,” she floundered. “How could you even think I’d do that?” she asked and then wished she hadn’t because he then launched into a list of statistics of dreadful things people did to their children in the name of money.
To change the direction of his diatribe, she interjected, “So, I should really be asking this of a pathologist? Or maybe one of those delicious guys on those forensic television programs like CSI?”
“Beth, they’re only actors.”
“Really?” Beth patted her heart. “You’re kidding! They’re so knowledgeable, I could have sworn they were the real thing.” Her play–acting was rewarded with a patronizing look from Peter. Beth couldn’t wait for dinner to end. She shoveled larger portions into her mouth in order to move the evening to a close. To hell with manners!
Peter Grenville lacked any sense of humor and was so full of himself it was a wonder he hadn’t had to take a trip to the bathroom to throw up, because Beth sure felt like it. About the only things he had going for him were a really fast car, a luxury condo in Aspen and access to an ENT surgeon, ASAP. The first two things weren’t nearly as important to her as the last. But she guessed most women would probably be impressed enough with Peter’s car and luxury ski resort condo to actually contemplate a second date with him.
All Beth could contemplate was curling up in bed alone and forgetting tonight had ever happened. Damn! She wished she’d bought that vibrator already.
Thankfully coffee arrived, signaling the evening would soon end. And then she couldn’t believe what she was feeling! Had Peter just reached under the table and put her fo
ot in his lap? And he’d slipped off her shoe! She flinched but resisted the urge to pull her foot away because the pressure of his hands massaging her foot felt too damned good.
“What are your thoughts on spanking?” Peter asked as he stroked her foot. Beth frowned. What a strange question. Even stranger was that she was letting him massage her foot in a public place. She’d let him continue for just a few more minutes, then she’d discreetly remove her foot.
Allowing him to give her a free foot massage in exchange for her thoughts on raising children seemed a small price to pay. “Um, well, I’ve never spanked my children, of course. I try to find a way of punishing them that doesn’t involve hurting my hand.” He didn’t laugh at her little joke. Was this some sort of test? Or did he think she beat her kids?
Peter’s fingers bit into her foot. “No, silly, I meant spanking… you know… adults.”
“Why would I want to spank another adult?” Beth inquired and then, seeing the lascivious look in Peter’s eyes, said, “Oh… Um, you mean that sort of spanking?” She tried to remove her foot but he gripped it tighter.
Peter nodded, a sly grin spreading over his face. “Yeah, have you ever done it? Spanked another adult?”
“You’ve got to be joking!” Beth blurted before she could stop herself. No, maybe he wasn’t joking, given the serious look on his face and his complete absence of a sense of humor. She didn’t know whether to laugh or get up and leave the table. Surely he was joking this time though?
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” He leaned forward as if to share a confidence which had the unfortunate effect of pressing her foot into his groin. Beth squirmed.
“I’m surprised. Hot little mama like you. I thought you’d be right into that sort of thing.”
“You’ve got to be joking!” Beth blurted again. This time other diners glanced in her direction.
“Keep your voice down, we don’t want everyone joining in.”
Beth was incredulous. Her children’s baby–faced pediatrician enjoyed being spanked? “Um, just how long have you… ah… been into spanking?” she asked.
“Ever since my Nanny used to spank me in my nursery. I grew up in Beacon Hill—that’s Boston in case you don’t know.”
Beth ignored the patronizing remark that suggested she knew nothing of geography and let him continue.
“I then went to boarding school in Connecticut. They spanked us at school too, but I only really enjoyed it when the Matron gave me a good whacking.”
Beth choked on the sip of coffee she’d just foolishly taken. She mopped up the coffee that spilled down the front of her white blouse.
Great. Not only had she just wasted three precious hours she could have spent waxing her legs, washing her hair, scrubbing floors or gardening in the dark, she’d also ruined her favorite silk blouse. She had to get out of here. Peter Grenville was barking mad.
“You see,” he continued, “It wasn’t the same when the teachers gave me the cane. I only really derived any sexual pleasure when Matron or Nanny spanked me.”
Beth covered her ears.
“At first she spanked me if I was naughty, but then I discovered that if I did little favors for her, that she’d spank me afterwards if I asked her nicely.” He stroked her foot and Beth wondered if she should kick him. Hard. Except that would probably excite the creep further. “So I was hoping that you were into spanking too,” he continued, as if it was perfectly normal to talk about your fetishes over dinner with a woman you hardly knew.
“Um… well… I’m not. And I don’t like you touching my foot either!” Beth tried to pull her foot from his grasp, but he gripped it tighter and started rubbing it against his groin.
Right. You wanna play dirty mister? she thought. Take that! She kicked out hoping to catch him somewhere it hurt.
She was rewarded when tears sprang to Peter Grenville’s eyes and he momentarily released her. Beth took full advantage of his lapse in concentration and pulled her foot back and placed both feet firmly under her chair, where they would be safe from his roaming hands. She crossed her arms to signal the subject was closed and wondered how to leave gracefully. But, first, she needed to find her shoe.
“I could teach you,” he said. “It’s not hard. I’ve got a selection of canes at home. We could go back there and I could give you a few pointers on how to make it good for me. And then I could spank you. If you want.” Somehow he’d managed to catch her foot again while she’d been flailing it around under the table trying to find her shoe.
The man was relentless. “That’s it!” Beth threw down her napkin and stood up. “I’m going home now and I never, ever, want to lay eyes on you again, you sick bastard,” she hissed and dived under the table for her shoe.
“But what about the appointment I was going to arrange for Molly?” he implored her.
Beth halted as she pushed in her chair, now he’d made her really mad. “Do you mean to tell me that my daughter getting an early appointment with a colleague of yours is dependent on me coming back to your place, pulling down your pants and giving your big, white bottom a good thrashing?” she said in a voice loud enough for the other diners to hear.
Peter didn’t seem to notice their sudden interest. He nodded excitedly. “Yes, yes, that’s right.”
Beth strode towards the door.
Peter followed her. “Will you come out to dinner again tomorrow night?”
She pushed her way through the door and kept on walking.
Beth had almost worked her way through the entire box of chocolates within an hour of getting home. She told herself she needed them, so she could gain five pounds and therefore prove to herself that at least some things in this life could be depended upon. Men sure couldn’t!
She popped one of the remaining chocolates into her mouth and savored its sweet strawberry flavored filling and wondered if she should report Peter Grenville to the medical board.
What a weirdo!
Beth jumped as the phone rang beside her. Who on earth could be calling at this time of night? Oh, Lordy, not Peter Grenville, please, she begged.
Nah, he was probably already tied up with another much more willing woman, one he probably picked up in a downtown backstreet. One he’d have to pay to get his bottom spanked. He was probably really disappointed about having to stand dinner for a dud non–spanker like Beth. Well, too bad; at least she got him to look in Molly’s ear. She bit her lip. She was back to square one with the ENT specialist appointment though. That was a shame.
The phone continued to ring while Beth contemplated whether or not to answer it. Whoever it was, they sure were insistent.
She snatched up the phone. “What?”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Oh, God. It was sure to be Peter Grenville and the heavy breathing would start any moment. Beth was about to hang up, when she heard Gabe’s familiar deep voice. “Beth, is anything wrong?”
A tingle of pleasure raced down her spine at the sound of his voice. “Um… no. Why?”
“You sounded angry.”
Beth worked on sounding relaxed and cheerful. “No! I was just surprised to get a call this late at night.”
“You said you never get to bed much before midnight, so I was hoping I’d catch you still up.”
Beth tried to remain cool, calm and collected even though her heart was racing at the comforting sound of Gabe’s voice. “Tell me, Gabe, what are your thoughts on spanking?”
“Excuse me?”
“Spanking. I don’t mean spanking kids, I mean adults spanking each other. Stuff like that.”
“Um… where’s this going, Beth? Have you been drinking that cheap wine again?”
“No, of course not. That stuff gave me such a god–awful headache that I haven’t touched a drop since.” Well, except for tonight, but that doesn’t count, ‘cos I’m gonna try and forget tonight ever happened.
“It’s just that… moving from thinking about buying a vibrator,” Gabe explained, “and
straight to hard core spanking is a bit of a jump in the sexual stakes. Vibrators I can understand, but spanking is just plain weird. Why do you ask? Do you fancy a spanking?”
Beth laughed. “Good heavens, no!” She didn’t want to reveal why she was suddenly so interested in spanking and searched her mind for another topic.
“So how did tonight’s date with the pediatrician go?” he asked.
“What? How did you know about that?”
“Tilly told me, of course.”
“Dammit. That’s the last time I share a confidence with her.”
“You know perfectly well that’s not true. Tilly’s your best friend and you two can’t go five minutes without calling each other up over any little thing. She said you were really excited about the date.”
“You know, if I wasn’t so darned tired, I could get really offended by that sort of patronizing remark. But instead I’ll chose to ignore it and go to bed. Goodnight.”
Beth hung up the phone and rubbed her hands together, amazed at how good she felt about not rising to the bait. Gabe Hunter wasn’t any different from any other macho, paternalistic jerk of a man!
The phone rang again. Beth snatched it up. “What?” she demanded.
“Was your doctor lover–boy into spanking?” he asked.
“What’s it to you?”
“You’d never mentioned it before. You’d mentioned a few other things you wanted me to do to you, but it didn’t include spanking.”
Beth flushed at the memory of how brazen she’d been the other night with Gabe. And with her kids just upstairs! What was she thinking? Thank goodness, Gabe had had the sense to call a halt to things. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all? Just an infuriating one. A gorgeous, infuriating one. But a man just the same.
“So,” Gabe was saying, “I put two and two together and came up with Dr. Strangelove.”
Beth laughed. Dr. Strangelove was an, oh, so appropriate name for Peter Grenville.
“What are you doing right now?” Gabe asked.