Two's Company

  “I’ll take one too,” David said.

  “A Cosmopolitan,” Gillian said.

  “Just bring me the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve got,” Sylvia said.

  “And you, ma’am?” the man said to Helen, but received no response as

  she and Catherine chattered.

  “Just ignore them,” David said. “You won’t get them to shut up long

  enough to order anything.”

  “Very well, sir,” the waiter replied and left the table.

  “So, Gillian,” Ian said with a smile. “Bet you’re glad you came on this

  trip!”

  A short laugh left her lips. “I am, actually. I haven’t had time off in about

  five years, so I was relieved when Sylvia invited me.”

  “How long are you staying, little sister?”

  “A week. I can’t leave Oscar alone any longer than that. No telling what

  the house will look like when I get back. I envision take-out cartons and pizza

  boxes strewn across the floors with boxer shorts and dirty socks!”

  “I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Ian said as the waiter brought their drinks

  and food.

  “Why not? You are.”

  “Hey, I’m single!”

  “Some excuse,” Sylvia said, digging into her stack of pancakes.

  “And do you have a husband destroying your house with pizza and dirty

  socks, too?” Ian asked Gillian with a grin.

  “Oh no.” Gillian shook her head and held up her left hand. “No wedding

  band for me.”

  “I keep trying to get her married off to one of Oscar’s friends, but one date

  is all she’ll go on with any of them. That is when she’s in town and not off saving

  the world of commerce.”

  “Yes, you’re quite the matchmaker, Syl, but I told you it won’t work on

  me. I have no plans to get married anytime in the foreseeable future.”

  “You sound just like Ian,” Sylvia replied through another mouthful of

  pancakes.

  “Don’t even think it, sister!” Ian warned.

  “Think what?” Sylvia asked innocently.

  “You know what, so don’t even.”

  Gillian looked from brother to sister and back again. “Oh no, Sylvia. You

  promised me before we left Boulder there would be no matchmaking between

  me and your brother, or anyone else while we’re here!”

  “Aww, you two are no fun,” Sylvia said with a smirk and took another bite.

  ~ * ~

  “So how did we wind up alone in my car?” Ian asked, starting the engine.

  Gillian laughed. “You sister won’t give up.”

  “I know. I was so relieved when she moved to Colorado. I thought she’d

  introduce me to every single woman in the Midwest while trying to marry me

  off.”

  “She does the same thing to me. I’m almost afraid to call her when I get in

  from a business trip! Married people just aren’t happy unless everyone around

  them is married too!”

  “Don’t kid yourself. Sylvia has been matchmaking since she was twelve

  years old! I was seventeen then and she brought home every girl in her class. She

  was so disappointed when I didn’t show an interest in twelve and thirteen year

  old girls. And it just got worse as she got older. Don’t tell her, but I did

  everything I could to convince Oscar that he wanted to marry her.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I did. They’d been dating for a couple of years already, but it didn’t seem

  as if he’d ever pop the question, so I just kinda nudged him in that direction. Six

  months later, Mom was booking the church and planning the reception.”

  “So you’re a matchmaker, too.”

  “Hell, no. I just wanted my sister off my back!” They both laughed.

  “So, you’re here for a week and then back to Colorado?” he asked.

  “No. Actually, I’m here with your sister for a week before I go to Tulsa for a

  few days. Then to Dallas, and then I’m off to Tokyo.”

  “So you’ll be saving the United States first, then the world?”

  Gillian laughed. “It’s not quite as exciting as Sylvia thinks. I simply go to

  different companies and show them how to improve management-employee

  relationships in order to increase production and become more time efficient, cut

  losses with time management, and reduce the number of employees who call in

  sick, come in late, go home early, that type of stuff.”

  “And just how do you do that?”

  “It’s not really difficult. A lot of it is simple things like job sharing, the fourday

  workweek, in-house daycare, working from home, and generally making the

  environment more employee-friendly. I’ve even implemented a doggie-friendly

  office in a few places.”

  “Doggie-friendly?”

  “Yes. A lot of people, like us, choose not to marry and have children, but

  they do have pets. Pets left alone can sometimes be destructive, and people are

  attached to their pets just like they would be to a child. Pets and their owners get

  stressed out when they’re apart so a pet-friendly business saves a lot of money

  by reducing absences the same way an in-house daycare does.”

  “That’s, um, great. I guess.”

  “You think it’s nuts,” Gillian said, tilting her head.

  Ian grinned. “Yes, yes I do.”

  Chapter 2

  Ian kicked off his shoes as he entered his apartment, shrugged off the jacket

  and tie he’d been wearing, and tossed them carelessly onto the sofa. In his

  bedroom, he stripped off the rest of the garments and sat naked on the bed.

  Pulling out his Palm Pilot, he scrolled down to the list of appointments. Dinner at

  six with a seventy-eight year old lady named Esther Jones. He and Esther had

  had many dates in the past and he actually enjoyed her company. She called him

  for any social occasion that required an escort, and he often wound up flying to

  Dallas, San Francisco or New York with her. The one thing she never required

  was sex, and Ian considered dates with her paid vacations. However, tonight

  was simply a black-tie dinner benefiting one cause or another, so he’d have her

  home by nine with no problem.

  The next appointment was with a new client he’d yet to meet. He didn’t

  really like new clients, preferred to stick with what he already knew. He’d have

  to talk with Bridget tomorrow about that. Bridget was his secretary, and he her

  anonymous employer. She took the calls at her home, scheduled the

  appointments and forwarded them via the Internet. His bank made a wire

  transfer from his account to hers twice monthly and the arrangement had

  worked well for nearly ten years. His only contact with her was either through email

  or a phone call.

  Stepping into the shower, Ian relaxed as the massaging showerhead beat

  down on his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes and thought about his night,

  then washed his hair and scrubbed his body. After toweling off, he walked

  naked into the closet and selected an Armani suit for the dinner with Esther.

  Standing in front of the mirror, he appraised his body. At thirty-one years

  old, he could easily pass for twenty-five. Working out a few times a week kept

  him in good shape. Staring at his reflection, he didn’t quite see what everyone

  else apparently did, or at least what women saw.

  At six-fe
et-three-inches and one hundred eighty pounds, his body fat had

  been calculated at less than five percent. His dark hair and blue eyes seemed to

  be his best features, or at least that’s what everyone seemed to notice first. Those

  attributes were genetic, not dependent upon anything he did or didn’t do.

  Perhaps the body fat percentage, but even that he hadn’t worked toward; it

  was just the way it was. He looked like his father, who looked like his father, who

  had come to America as an Irish immigrant shortly before the depression. He’d

  learned to capitalize on those genetic blessings at a very early age.

  During his senior year of high school, a not-quite-eighteen-year-old Ian

  had taken a job at his father’s office as a gopher. He ran errands, swept up at

  night, and earned a hundred dollars a week. On one of his errands fate

  intervened when he’d delivered a packet of legal papers to a very wealthy

  widow. Of course, all his father’s law clients were wealthy, and the man only

  accepted those able to pay the exorbitant fees up front. Joseph James had a very

  successful law firm right up until the day he dropped dead from a massive

  coronary in the conference room. The partners cashed out Joseph’s ownership to

  Catherine James, who became even wealthier as a widow than she’d been as a

  wife. The only stipulation was that the firm retain Joseph’s name since he’d been

  the founding partner.

  The day Ian delivered the legal packet to Mrs. Charles Winthrop, III, his

  life changed forever. In fact, it altered the course of his life. Ian had always

  thought he’d go to law school, become a lawyer at his father’s firm, and someday

  take his father’s place. But life doesn’t always go as planned as Ian found out. At

  twenty-one years of age, Judy Winthrop married Charles, a ripe fifty-six years

  old. His daughter, Tracie had been twenty-two when the marriage took place,

  and father and daughter never spoke to one another again.

  Two years later, Judy Winthrop became a widow when she and Charles

  were skydiving in Rio. Charles’ parachute malfunctioned and he plummeted to

  his death. Joseph James was hired by Mrs. Winthrop to handle the lawsuit

  brought by Tracie Winthrop contesting Mr. Winthrop’s will. When all had been

  said and done, Tracie had a tidy sum to last her the rest of her life, but Judy

  inherited nearly fifty million dollars.

  Ian clearly remembered the first time he met Judy. On that day, he’d

  pushed the buzzer at the gate and announced his arrival to the butler. When the

  gate opened, Ian drove his car up the long drive and parked in front of the

  mansion Judy had also inherited. He lifted the doorknocker, let it fall once, and

  the butler opened it immediately.

  “I’ll take those for you,” the man said.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I have to give them to Mrs. Winthrop personally. She

  must sign for them,” Ian explained.

  “Please follow me,” the butler said and led him to a sitting room with large

  windows overlooking the gardens. “Mrs. Winthrop will be with you shortly.”

  Ian stood with his hands behind his back looking out the window at the

  roses and various other well-tended flowers. He looked around the room. The

  furnishings were expensive and tasteful, obviously placed by an interior

  decorator. Ian was used to expensive taste, and decorators coming and going, but

  what startled him was the lady of the house.

  “Are you from the law firm?” she asked.

  Ian spun around and his mouth dropped open. Mrs. Winthrop didn’t look

  much older than him and a see-through pink baby doll nightie hugged her

  curvaceous form. Her breasts were firm, the nipples puckered against the

  material tied in a bow by a simple string. Her belly was bare and she wore a

  matching pair of thong underwear that covered nothing at all. He could see right

  through the little swatch of lace to pubic hair that had been perfectly waxed into

  the shape of a small heart. Her long legs extended forever, right down to her bare

  feet with painted toenails that matched her fingernails—hot pink.

  “You brought me something to sign?” she asked, smiling. Then she stuck a

  finger in her mouth, pulled on the gum she’d been chewing, and twirled it

  around her finger. Sucking the gum from her finger back into her mouth, she

  asked, “Can’t you talk?”

  Ian felt his cheeks and ears grow hot and stammered out an answer. “I, um,

  that is, my father, um.” He took a deep breath and swallowed as he looked back

  toward the window. “That is, my father sent these over for you. There’s a paper

  you need to sign on top.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking the packet from him. “You want something to

  drink? You look kinda flushed there, cutie pie. Come with me, I’ve got a Coke or

  a root beer or something in the kitchen.”

  Ian followed her like a puppy following a little kid.

  “Here you go,” she said and handed him a can of Coke. “Have a seat right

  there and I’ll sign this paper for you.”

  Ian nodded and sat down while Judy slid the papers from the packet. She

  flipped through them, but he could tell she wasn’t reading them.

  “Well, I guess your father knows what he’s doing. No reason to take up my

  time with this.” She pulled the top page apart from the others and signed it

  without reading it either. “There you go, cutie pie,” she said, handing the page to

  him.

  “Thank you,” Ian muttered, stood, and walked toward the kitchen door.

  “Before you go, how would you like to earn a little money?”

  Ian stopped and turned toward her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she said on a laugh, “how would you like to make a little

  money, say five hundred dollars?”

  “What do I have to do for it?”

  “Suspicious, aren’t we?”

  “Not even my dad pays me that much and he makes me work my butt off

  for what he does pay me.”

  Judy walked toward him. “Come with me,” she said, taking his hand. She

  led him through the sitting room and back to the foyer to the winding staircase.

  “Let’s go upstairs where we’ll be more comfortable.”

  Ian swallowed hard. “Upstairs?”

  “Don’t be afraid, cutie pie, I won’t bite,” she said with a laugh. “That is,

  unless you want me to.”

  “Uh, I, uh…” Ian stammered.

  “Come on, cutie pie, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  “No, it’s just that, well …”

  “Hush now,” she whispered. “This is gonna be fun. I promise.”

  She stopped in front of a set of double doors, pushed them open, and led

  him inside. Ian looked around at all the marble—floors, walls, and Jacuzzi—a

  Jacuzzi that could hold at least twelve people.

  “Go ahead,” Judy said. “Get in. I’ll be right back.”

  “But I don’t have any trunks.”

  She threw back her head and laughed. “You don’t need any, cutie pie.”

  Pushing a button on the wall, the water in the Jacuzzi came to life. And then she

  slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

  Ian looked around, unsure of whether to strip and get into the water or run

  like he was being chased by demons from hell. Being a young
, red-blooded male,

  he finally stripped and jumped into the water. After a few moments, he relaxed.

  The water felt nice, the jets even nicer, and he shut his eyes, allowing his body to

  go limp and float in the tub. He didn’t hear the door open, nor did he hear Judy

  as she slipped in beside him. What he heard was his own yelp of surprise when

  Judy’s hand wrapped around his cock.

  “Just relax,” she said softly, and continued to stroke him.

  “I, uh, it’s . . . I should be going,” Ian stuttered.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Judy replied. She ducked her head beneath the

  roiling water and took the head of Ian’s dick into her mouth. When she surfaced

  with a smile, Ian’s mouth dropped open.

  “I know this is your first time,” she said. “Relax and enjoy it.”

  Ian followed her to the Jacuzzi’s steps and sat on one at the top, the one

  Judy patted with her hand. Kneeling two steps below him, she placed a hand on

  each of his knees and pushed his legs apart. Settling between them, Judy flicked

  her tongue over the head of his cock, slid it down the full length and sucked a

  ball into her mouth before moving on to the other. She licked back up the length

  of his cock and sucked the head into her mouth while twirling her tongue

  around the tip. Then she swallowed him whole.

  Ian gasped. He’d never been in this position before, even though he’d lied

  about it to his friends. Fleetingly, he wondered if they’d all lied as well, but soon

  he thought of nothing at all but the feel of her mouth on his cock. For the life of

  him, he couldn’t focus, he could only follow the sensations from Judy’s mouth

  and moan in pure pleasure. In less than two minutes, he shot his wad into her

  mouth.

  He looked away, embarrassed by his lack of control. “I’m—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She smiled up at him and licked her lips. “That’s

  the desired result.”

  She stood and climbed the stairs past him, and he got his first look at his

  first real naked woman. All the others he’d seen in magazines.

  “Come with me,” she said, and he jumped to his feet and followed her.

  Judy led him into her bedroom, a large room with a giant canopied bed in

  the middle of the floor. The French doors at the end of the room opened to a

  large veranda overlooking a swimming pool below.