by Jamie Knight
“Don't you have a nanny?” Mom asked.
“Unfortunately,” I said.
“Oh?”
“I mean, she's okay. She's good with Jess. She is just so bossy. Tells me what to do and corrects me in front of Jess. I'm supposed to be the authority figure, right? I'm the one with the legal guardianship. How is Jess going to respect me with Becky constantly undermining me?”
“Have you considered firing her?”
“Of course, but I still need someone. I can't do it all alone, and there is no one available. I even asked Joe Sumner. He is running some kind of charity for childcare workers during the quarantine. I thought for sure he would have someone who could be an alternative.”
“Well, that's good, right?”
“No! Not only did Joe not have anyone else, but he also wanted me to make a donation!”
“It sounds like you might have a soft spot for this Becky.”
“Don't be ridiculous! She's a thorn in my side!”
“Then why does your voice crack every time you say her name?”
I knew she was right. Mom always was about such things. As annoying as she could be, I was getting a soft spot for Becky. That was probably why I didn't keep looking for a replacement after Joe fell through.
“Either way, we're stuck with each other because of the lockdown,” I said.
“Oh, don't be silly, dear. Such things surely don't apply to the likes of us!” Mom was still sure that name and money imbued her with Divine Right.
“I wouldn't go testing that theory. The Bolsheviks did win the war, after all. Anyway, I have to go. Lots of work to do.”
“Oh, darling, you aren't still doing—”
I dropped the call. I knew well my family's opinion that brilliant minds were wasted on work. A conviction that they held to the point of refusing to help me pay my way through MIT. I was about to get a job, but Simone, who got her inheritance first and invested it very wisely, came to the rescue. She paid for my entire degree. I tried to pay her back, but she refused. Instead, telling me to use it to make the world a better place. I could give a shit what my parents or brother thought of me. My greatest mistake about getting caught all those years ago was letting Simone down. She tried to tell me it was okay, but it wasn’t.
Hacktivism was nothing to be ashamed of, and governments didn't like it when the people went against them, but I still couldn't shake the sense of shame. I really didn't think unleashing a massively destructive virus on financial institutions was quite what she had in mind. I was just really pissed off about the recession and decided to do something about it.
My parents pulled some of the many strings at their disposal and arranged for me to be exiled to relatives in London rather than go to prison, for the recommended fifteen years. Simone drove me to the airport. I was twenty-two, and it was the last time I would see my big sister alive.
No one knew, but that was why I worked so much. I was designing a finance app that showed users how to maximize and protect their money, not only from black hat hackers but also the people who were meant to be the good guys but hardly ever did what they promised. At least for the people who most needed it. I considered it my penitence. Both to Simone as well as for being born into the privileged class who really were treated differently. My own view being that everyone was an autonomous individual, and no one was inherently better than anyone else. Humans all the way down to paraphrase Bertrand Russell.
Becky walked by with Jessica taking her to her playroom or at least the bedroom that I had set up as her playroom. I took notice of Becky. Still in the ass-hugging yoga pants, pairing it with a snug hoodie that did little to obscure her large, lovely boobs, her hair tied back in a ponytail, her feet bare. She really was something. Young and hot, not shy about letting the world know it. The weird thing was she didn't seem to know how hot she was. Or if she did, she didn't care. Not really seeming concerned about such things.
I couldn't stand her personality, mostly because she was so bossy when it came to Jessica, and I didn't like being told what to do by anyone. Even if they did know better than me. I listened to Simone, but that was different. She always presented things as teaching rather than lecturing or correction.
I couldn't get Becky out of my mind. The pressure in my pants getting to desperate levels.
Closing and locking the door, I went back to my desk and hauled out my cock. It was the first time I had done anything like that in a while. I guess I hadn't been in the mood.
Wrapping my hand around my throbbing cock, I imagined Becky in the office with me. Bending over my desk, she pulled down her pants, revealing her beautiful ass and luscious pink pussy.
In my head, I ate her pussy, my hands firmly on her hips as she softly moaned. When she was wet and ready, I thought about standing up behind her, the difference in our height even more prominent than usual, and sliding my hard cock inside her, making her moan softly.
Imagining my cock most of the way in her tight little pussy, I imaged fucking her, softly at first and then hard, Becky making soft moaning noises and whispering encouragement as I pounded her.
The orgasm came fast and hard, the load bigger than I had expected. I bit my lip to keep from drawing attention to myself. Finally, I relaxed in my chair, spent but satisfied. It was then that I knew I had a real problem.
Chapter Four
Becky
Dean kept his word to me and spent all afternoon with Jessica in her playroom on Saturday. I also thought that it had to mean something that he had moved the playroom down the hall from his office. I would have suspected he would have done that just so he could look at my ass when I walked down there with Jessica, but I wasn’t sure if my boss really thought about me that way or at all.
I really didn't like how Dean treated me like I was supposed to take care of him and his niece. Jess, I didn't mind. It was what her mother had arranged for me to do, and Jess was a good kid. It was Dean that was the problem. Particularly now that we were stuck together by government order.
I could tell he had a problem with me, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was. I was doing the best I could, trying to help him take care of his niece and let him know what she needed for when I wasn't there anymore. Still, he seemed to resent it.
I didn't want to leave, if only for Jessica's sake, but things needed to get a whole lot better, or I was quitting as soon as the quarantine order was lifted.
In the meantime, I figured a way to get around Dean's coldness was to eat lunch with him, away from Jessica, so we could meet on equal footing as adults and see if there was a way to work things out.
The kitchen was so stocked it was a struggle to figure out what to make. I decided on cheesesteak sandwiches. They were always a hit back in Philly, where my extended family was, and I was in possession of my grandma's secret recipe, imparted to me on her death bed after swearing me to secrecy. If these sandwiches didn't get Dean to loosen up a bit, nothing would.
Getting the hulking things onto two plates, I cut them in half, getting a beer for him out of the fridge. Taking a breath of courage, I went up to his office, where he had been hiding out since the lockdown started and knocked on the door. The typing stopped, and I took that as a cue to go in.
“What are you doing?” Dean demanded, not looking up from his work.
The computer screen was streaming with all kinds of code. At least I thought it was. I used computers, everyone did, but I really had no idea how they actually ran. My only real exposure to programming being the documentaries I had seen on hacking. What the authorities did to Kevin Mitnik always seemed to me like a travesty of justice. What Dean was doing with such things on his computer, I had no idea. Then again, I had been expecting porn or at least a movie or online shopping.
“I brought you a sandwich and a beer.”
“Leave the beer, toss the sandwich. I'm too busy. The last thing I need right now is a bloody sandwich.”
I slammed down the open bottle of beer so hard i
t foamed up over the desk, turning into a rushing river that got dangerously close to the computer he spent more time with than his sister's orphan daughter.
“Hey!” Dean protested, staving off the flow of foamy beer with whatever was handy.
“You know what? Fuck you! I have tried my best, and you have been nothing but awful to me. You are impossible to work with and impossible to work for! As soon as the quarantine is lifted, I am out of here!”
I stormed out of the room, taking my cheesesteaks with me, slamming so the door so hard the noise hurt my ears.
After having a good cry in the bathroom, I ate both my cheesesteaks because fuck him, they were awesome.
Pulling myself together, I went down the hall to the playroom where Jessica was having a tea party with her stuffed animals like a normal kid should. A little island of calm among the storm.
“I heard shouting,” Jessica said, looking up at me.
“Sorry honey, I—”
“You said a bad word.”
“Yes, I did. I said a naughty word. It was wrong, and I don't want you to ever repeat it, okay?”
“Okay.”
She just kept on pouring invisible tea and offering make-believe cookies to her inanimate friends like a little trooper.
“Were you yelling at Uncle Dean.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Well, because he was being mean.”
I had fully intended to tell her that I was planning to leave after the quarantine. It wasn't her fault. I just could be around her Uncle Dean anymore because we made each other sad.
Jess hummed. “He does that because he likes you.”
“He what?” I asked, not expecting that.
“I like you, too. I don't feel right with Uncle Dean. He's weird. I like you. You're normal and fun.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. It was scary when mama went away. Uncle Dean came back, but I hadn't seen him before. He left a long time ago. He was weird. He wouldn't play. I like you. You play.”
I could feel my heart actually breaking. I had no idea that Dean wasn't around when Jessica was born. She was basically living with a stranger, and I was the only sense of normalcy she had in her turbulent life.
There was definitely something going on with Dean. When did he go away, and why? Did he go by himself, or was he sent? Did he only come back when his sister died? My mind was whirling. Jessica was right. It was weird. Really weird, and I didn't know what to do.
I did know one thing, though. There was no way in hell I was going to tell Jessica I was leaving after the quarantine. I just sat on my little plastic chair, between Mr. Otter and Bunny Bun, and held out my little plastic cup for my invisible tea.
Chapter Five
Dean
I was glad I had started keeping my golf clubs in my car. Otherwise, there could have been a lot more damage to my office than there was. I was surprised and frightened by my rage. Becky hadn't really done anything that bad. She just told me things that were true that I didn't want to hear. That still didn't stop me from putting my fist through the wall.
Picking the bits of wood and plaster out of my hand, I sterilized the wounds and changed my shirt to one that was less beery and bloody. Choosing a different tie from my collection of over 100 handwoven pieces, I sat back down at my desk and waited for a business call that I knew was coming through. It was from an investor, and I had to look my best.
I hated having to kiss the ass of such a toffee-nosed twonk, but some of my closest relatives were toffee-nosed twonks. Besides which, there was a certain poetry in taking money from a venture capitalist to create something that would make his reign of terror more difficult to maintain. I had fibbed a bit about what the app was going to be for. Leaving out a piece of information here and there, such as the security features and new form of sustainable crypto-currency that would make banks optional for anyone who used it.
“Dean, old boy, how are things?”
“Everything is just fine, Nigel,” I lied, putting on my best-received pronunciation. I had learned a thing or two over the past eleven years on Blighty.
“Everything is on schedule, then?”
“A bit ahead, actually.”
“Wonderful! You really have exceeded all expectations.”
“You flatter me, your lordship.”
“Keep up the good work!”
“Yes, sir!”
Lord Nigel ended the call, and I sat back, heaving a sigh of relief. My relaxation was to be short-lived, however, as there came a blood-curdling scream from somewhere in the house. It sounded like a child in pain.
Nearly tripping over myself in a failed attempt to move quickly, I ran downstairs to see what happened. My mind racing through the gruesome possibilities.
“Jessica?”
“Hi, Uncle Dean,” she said, happy as can be.
“W-what, there was a scream.”
“We had to do something to get you out of your office. Desperate times,” Becky said with a shrug.
“You want ice cream, Uncle Dean?”
“Sure, I'd love some ice cream,” I said, my gaze trained on Becky.
We went into the kitchen and got out three bowls and three spoons. Regular sized ones for me and kiddie-sized plastic ones for Jessica.
“What flavor do you like?” I asked, feeling stupid for not knowing.
“Chocolate!”
“That was your mom's favorite too,” I said, getting out the tub of chocolate.
It had started early with Simone. Before she was even as old as Jessica, she would demand chocolate ice cream after every meal, not understanding that dessert was something that usually only happened after dinner. At least that was what she told me. I wasn't around then.
My sister and I were laying in a freshly raked pile of leaves on a crisp autumn day when I asked, for no particular reason, about her chocolate ice cream habit. She was nothing if not consistent.
It had been a while since I thought about how it used to be.
“Are you okay?” Jessica asked, tugging on my pant leg.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I lied.
Serving up three bowls of ice cream, chocolate for Jessica, raspberry swirl for me, and orange sherbet for Becky, we sat at the kitchen table and ate in silence.
“I'm glad you thought of this, Jess,” I said, scraping the last remnants of the ice cream from my bowl. I had honestly forgotten how good it could taste.
My little niece beamed at me. Something simple and sweet. Something that would make most people feel good. It would have made me feel good, if she didn't look so damn much like her mother.
“Excuse me, I—”
I ran out of words. Anything else I said would have come out as a sob. I had to leave before things could go pear shaped, getting up so fast my chair fell over.
I didn't go down until that night. I was afraid I might have upset Jessica and couldn't face that. Not right then.
Becky was coming out of Jessica's room as I arrived. We stood silently for a moment, neither of us sure what to say.
I was pretty sure there were a few things that Becky would have liked to say. Most of them requiring only four-letters each, but she restrained herself in case Jessica heard.
“Thanks,” I said lamely. It didn't really cover what she was doing for Jess and me. I just couldn't think of anything else to say.
“You're welcome.”
Taking a breath, I somehow found the courage to do what I knew had to be done. No matter how much it might hurt my pride. I had damaged the nanny’s a whole lot more and had to make amends. My Catholic upbringing hadn't gone entirely to waste apparently.
Not that it was about me. I needed Becky to stay around, for Jessica if nothing else. I had heard what she had said in the playroom and felt horrible for not having thought of it.
“Hey, I'm really sorry about the sandwich thing and the way I left the ice cream party. It really wasn't Jess, or you.”
“You're forgiven. This t
ime. Just don't let it happen again,” Becky said, more kindly than I would have expected.
“I won't,” I said, meaning it.
“Okay, good, because I don't deserve it, and neither does Jess. She's just a kid and she really needs her uncle right now. Not some surly guy who spends all day in his office.”
“I know. I just…I'm a bit mixed up right now. Not just with work but — other things. I really don't mean to be…well, to be the way I am. I know that's not an excuse. Do you think we could try lunch again tomorrow?”
“Only if we eat in that fancy-ass dining room,” she said with a smile.
“Deal.”
I had never had a lunch date that I looked forward to more.
Chapter Six
Becky
I didn't have much time. I had just gotten Jessica down for her nap, having already fed her lunch. I wanted to dress up for lunch with Dean but didn't have much that seemed really fancy.
I didn't know where the urge came from. Probably the fanciness of the dining room we were going to be eating in. It really was like something from a movie. A stupidly long table going almost from one end of the room to the other. A big fancy chandelier, the whole nine yards. If they took the table out, the place would have been big enough for a decently sized ball—people in fancy clothes spinning like nobody’s business, pulling off moves in evening wear that would make most people fall over.
Finally settling on the little black dressed I had brought on the dubious advice of a friend but had yet to wear, I put on my best, black silk bra and panties, before attempting to wiggle into the dress. I had put on a bit of weight since my senior year, but I had to admit, I still looked pretty good. I turned to the side so I could see my tits and my ass in the full-length mirror in the room that Dean had given me. I couldn't explain quite why I had done this, but I quite liked what I saw.