by J G Barber
Lorelei’s emerald green eyes beckon to him. Paul takes her hands, accepting her invitation to come closure. Their lips touch. He slides his hands over her breasts. She dissolves into the dark and disappears. The supernatural buzz fades to an eerie silence, replaced with the buzz of the laptop fan.
Paul wakes up from the trance. He realizes he’s no longer in bed. His mind spins as he tries to make sense of what just happened. Unable to process the experience, he opens the window and the mini-bar. His hands shake as he studies the liquor choices. “No!” He grabs a bottle of water and chugs it. Paul considers going back to bed, but he’s too rattled. He wakes up his laptop and goes back to work.
Paul paces back and forth in the New Century lobby as he finishes an extra-large coffee. Lorelei strolls in and looks him over. “Rough night?” She dangles his smartphone. “You left this in the Porsche.” Paul grabs it, and she continues, “Plan on stopping by Jerry’s tonight. Time to deliver the message.”
“Agreed.” Paul checks voicemail and text. Six messages and two texts from Laura. No point in reviewing them, he already knows what they say. He deletes them.
Lorelei marches into the New Century offices, her body in motion commanding Paul to follow her. He races to fall in line behind her like an obedient canine. Paul catches his unconscious behavior as they walk through the work area. What the fuck are you doing? He scans the surrounding work area to make sure no one saw him.
They arrive at the conference room where the crew awaits, laptops set up and coffee cups filled. Monica stands to greet them. Today’s outfit is even more work-inappropriate than the last one. “There you are!” She hugs and kisses Lorelei, their breasts merging into one breathtaking mound of flesh, just like Paul imagined the previous day.
Paul’s eyes connect with Elmo and Dandridge. They’re all thinking the same thing. Oh my god. Donald shoots them all a puzzled look.
Paul takes charge. “Let’s get started. Today we need to figure out how to present this opportunity to your management. It’s time for them to get up off their asses and approve this merger.” Everyone nods agreement as Paul projects his management presentation for further review.
Lorelei and Monica lock eyes and share their thoughts. He’s sexy when he takes charge, Monica comments. I feel your instincts are correct, sister. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted any man.
Lorelei studies Paul, considering the possibilities. Want to do him together?
Monica squirms in her chair as she imagines what the three of them might do together in bed. She’s unable to hide her arousal. Monica checks to make sure the men are focused on Paul. Donald notices her state, smirks his approval, and turns back to the presentation. At your service, sister Lorelei. Whatever is required of me.
Lorelei grins. I have a plan, sister. We’ll discuss it later. Now do what I’ve taught you. Focus your desire. Channel it into creative power.
Monica takes a deep breath and returns her focus to Paul’s presentation. She studies a slide that outlines the addressable market and growth forecasts for virtual reality headsets. “Paul, you missed a key point here. The vSports and eSports markets will be the key demand drivers for the next decade. New Century has a detailed plan to exploit this opportunity. And I believe your platform supports both.”
Paul’s impressed by her insight and by the fact she did her homework on his platform. “Yes, ADMS absolutely supports vSports and eSports. Good catch, Monica. You have any data to back it up?”
“I do.” She wakes up her laptop and pulls up a spreadsheet. “Let me break it down for you.”
It’s Friday afternoon. Paul sits alone in the New Century conference room where he’s worked with Lorelei and the crew all week, updating his notes from their all-day meetings. A knock on the door disrupts his brain dump. He admits Lorelei. She strolls in with a purpose. “Paul, we’re taking the crew out for drinks and dinner. It’s a craft beer and whiskey bar. The pastrami burger with a side of surly tots are positively life affirming.”
After a long week, her offer tempts him. Paul checks the time and his flight departure on his smartphone. “I’d love to, but my flight leaves at 8:25.”
Her body language issues another invitation. “Fly back with me later tonight. We have use of Jerry’s MaverickONE for the duration.”
“Jerry loaned you his jet?” Paul responds in disbelief.
“Of course.” Lorelei grins as she pulls up a chair next to him. She rests her arm on the table, just touching his pinky with hers.
Paul feels the electricity flowing between them. But his promise to Laura replays in his mind. He slides his hand back so their pinkies no longer touch. “Thank you, Lorelei. I have another commitment.”
“I don’t enjoy hearing that you have another commitment during this critical time,” she says with a powerful hook of disappointment. She looks him in the eyes, her emerald green eyes beckoning as they did when she projected her image into his hotel room. “What was your commitment to me? Oh, yes. ‘Whatever it takes, Lorelei. You have my word.’”
He looks at her sideways. Damn, she’s good. He closes his laptop and loads up his computer bag. “Welcome to my life. A never ending balancing act of conflicting commitments and desires.”
She responds with a look of her own, a disapproving mistress who will punish him if he does not obey her will. “Revisit your conflicting commitments. We need team players. Are you all in for the close, or not?”
Paul checks the room for all his belongings. “Lorelei, I told you, I’m all in. But I will not compromise my personal life.”
“I see,” she sings in a siren’s song. “Then I suggest you discuss what’s coming next with your lovely wife, Laura. I told you the crew likes to party. We’re flying the crew to Seattle for a visit. We can’t have her throwing up roadblocks.”
A soul-shaking feeling stirs in Paul’s gut. He bolts out the door. Lorelei grins as she stretches her arms and body, reveling in the moment. His journey to self-destruction begins.
The earthy furniture, plants and paintings in Barbara’s office create a warm, safe space. Paul disrupts the vibe as he paces around the room, anxiety fueling his steps. Barbara observes him and Laura’s reaction with wise eyes.
Laura’s body shakes as she speaks. “Stop lying. You’re punishing me for refusing to be your whore. Do your sluts in L.A. give it to you rough?”
Paul defends himself. “Why are you bringing up the L.A. thing again? Aren’t we past this yet?”
She breathes herself back to center. “Paul, you’re a man. You want to fuck other women. I get it. What I care about most is your heart. Your heart belongs to me. I want you to share your heart with me. Ever since your father died…”
“Oh my fucking god, here we go again.” He’s unable to contain the wave of grief as the past he’s determined to forget surges into the forefront of his consciousness. Paul swallows the emotions. He continues in a strained voice. “Listen to me. I’ve told you over and over and over again, she was in love with me. She was fucking crazy. I refused her love, and she killed herself. I never slept with her.” Paul pauses and looks her in the eyes. “I love you. You know I do.”
Laura’s fierce blue eyes penetrate him. For the first time, she sees something in him she’s never seen before. She can’t make out what it is, but Laura knows it’s not her husband. The familiar fear she’s lived with since Paul’s father died rises inside her.
What she just witnessed becomes enraged by being seen. “You want to know why I’m angry?” Paul’s demeanor transforms into another personality. “Let me tell you about rage. Rage is a force of nature. The wind rages against the sea. The sea rages against the earth. The earth rages against itself from inside itself. A man’s rage is born from that force of nature that seeks every day to annihilate his very existence. That force of rage has fueled every invention, every achievement, every conquest that has made men the dominant force on this planet.”
Laura looks to Barbara. They think the same thought. Wh
at just happened?
Visibly spooked, Barbara gets up from her chair and opens the office door. “That’s enough for today.” Paul storms out of the office, leaving Laura behind.
Barbara takes her hands. “Laura, I’m not qualified to help you with this.” Her words crush Laura’s hope that counseling could fix what’s wrong in her marriage. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before. You may want to seek the counsel of someone who deals with spiritual issues. I can give you a referral.” Laura lets go of Barbara’s hands and exits.
After a silent ride home, Laura follows Paul into the house. She trails him to his office where he’s retrieving a bottle of wine from the closet. A warrior’s fury replaces her devastation. With the force and precision of a skilled martial artist, she slams him against the wall. “Paul, ever since your father died, you’ve been split in two. Part of you is the man I love and part of you is this raging asshole that scares me to death.”
Her surprise attack catches him off guard and evokes his core of fear. He did not understand she had that in her. He lets out a primal scream. “Fuuuuuuck! Where did that come from?”
She places her hand on his heart. “Breathe.”
He follows her instruction. “I can’t deal with any more pressure.” After a few breaths, Paul regains his composure. “You’re right. I have issues. And I’ll deal with them. I just need your help now to get across the goal line. I have to be all in on this deal or it’s not going to happen.” He takes her hands. “Laura, our dream is about to come true. It’s OK to be a little scared, right?”
She takes his hands. “I am scared, Paul. You are scaring me. Why won’t you just tell me what happened to you? Please, just try to share your feelings with me, for once.”
Paul pauses for a long moment as he reflects on life with his father. “All I remember was his anger. He would disappear for days or weeks at a time, with no explanation. When he came back, it was as if another piece of his soul was gone. He broke my mother’s heart.”
She massages his heart. “He broke your heart too. Are you going to let what happened to them happen to us?”
Paul takes her ring hand into his. Their rings touch. “I won’t. I promise.” They embrace each other, sharing the moment of fear and recognition that they are facing something beyond their understanding, that neither of them is equipped to deal with.
Chapter Seven
Laura and Paul lie back-to-back, asleep, as the morning light peeks into the bedroom. Paul’s snoring morphs into a supernatural buzz as he dreams a happy memory. He sees the medieval Rhine Gorge through another man’s eyes.
The sun shines brightly and the wind blows gently through a grassy field above the river, outside the borders of the village of St. Goarshausen. Lorelei walks through the grass with Erik, her simple peasant’s dress and golden hair fluttering in the wind. She looks around to make sure no one is watching, then wraps her arms around Erik and kisses him passionately. He reciprocates. Their passion for each other brings them to their knees, laughing as they fall into the grass. The lovers roll around in the grass as their kisses stoke an unbridled desire. He pins her on her back, unties the strings in her top, and lifts her skirt…
Paul mutters as he rolls over. He opens his eyes to Lorelei. She calls to him. “You know you want me.” They connect as they did at the boat dock, studying each other from the inside out. Paul loses himself in her mystery, merging into her entrancing green eyes…
He awakens with a start and rubs his eyes. Laura is sound asleep, her back to him. He rolls out of bed and enters the bathroom, a bulge in his briefs and vigor in his step. He faces the mirror. Fat check. Muscle check. He nods approval and hits the shower.
Wrapped in a towel as he enters the walk-in closet, Paul breaks into song. “I cannot determine the meaning of sorrow that fills my breast.” He slips into fresh briefs, socks, a t-shirt, and one of his two thousand-dollar Hong Kong suits. “A fable of old, through it streaming, allows my mind no rest.” He steps into the bedroom, all suited up.
Laura rolls over in bed. She watches with a smile, happy that Paul took that first step to let her in and share his feelings with her. She follows Paul into the kitchen.
Paul continues. “The loveliest maiden is sitting, up there, so wondrously fair. Her golden jewelry is glist’ning. She combs her golden hair. I think that the waves will devour, both boat and man, by and by. And that, with her dulcet-voiced power. Was done by the Loreley.”
“Since when do you sing?” she asks as she checks the coffee brewing. It’s almost finished.
Paul shrugs. Where have I heard that song before?
“You always manage to surprise me, Mr. Douglass.” She engulfs him in a hug. Paul kisses her head and pulls free to pour them cups of coffee. Laura pulls out eggs and bacon to start breakfast.
“No time today. A personal driver is coming to take me to the airport,” he boasts. Paul grabs a protein bar from the cupboard. “We’re flying to L.A. in a private jet.”
“Really? I know Art doesn’t have that much money. Who exactly is this investor, Lorelei?” Laura realizes the song Paul just sang was about the Loreley. The German siren again. Time for more research.
“Well, the jet belongs to Jerry. As far as Lorelei goes, I don’t know how Art finds investors. She’s probably part of Scott’s father’s circle of crusty old money. All I know is, Art’s job is to raise capital, and he gets it done. Her job is to help me close the deal, and she has all the right connections. This deal is set up for success.”
“We haven’t finished our discussion about Los Angeles,” Laura says. “When you get back, we will talk through it all again. I don’t want to carry the baggage anymore.”
“Deal.” He hears a vibration on the counter and grabs his smartphone. “Driver’s here.” Paul kisses her on the lips, grabs his bags, and heads out the door.
In the driveway, a black full size sedan awaits. The driver gets out as Paul approaches. Paul’s surprised to recognize the man from the Magnolia cemetery. “Alexei, right?”
“Yes, Paul.” He shakes Paul’s hand, loads his bags in the trunk, and opens the rear door with the grace and ease of a seasoned professional. Paul climbs in, and Alexei starts the car as he studies Paul in the rear view mirror.
“Does Ms. Andressen hire you often?” Paul asks.
“What? No, sir. It is not my employer,” Alexei says with disdain. “I am self-employed. Where do you travel today, Paul?”
Paul turns suspicious. “You don’t know my itinerary? Who hired you then?”
Alexei looks over his shoulder at Paul. “ADMS. They gave me instructions to pick you up. They did not tell me where you are traveling.”
Paul can’t believe that Art would approve of hiring a town car. “Really?”
Alexei reaches back with a pair of business cards. “They told me you are an executive now. I am to drive you and your wife wherever you want to go. They will pay the bill.”
“Private jet terminal. Boeing Field.” Paul grabs the cards and studies the one on top. It has Alexei’s name and phone number, no address, and an eight-pointed symbol. “Where is this symbol from?”
Alexei smiles with pride and sentimentality. “From my distant great-grandfather. An ancient symbol from Iceland.”
Paul recognizes the symbol, but he doesn’t remember where or when he saw it before. For an instant, the image of a lodge built out of logs, isolated in a rocky area surrounded by snow, fills his mind’s eye. “What does it mean?”
Alexei shoots Paul a look in the rear view mirror. “Beware women of irresistible beauty.”
He studies Alexei’s eyes in the mirror. Paul decides he can trust him. “I had a dream last night. It was like a memory from another time. I don’t understand it.”
“A man must not discount his dreams,” Alexei says, speaking in the wise and knowing voice he used at the cemetery. “A dream can contain a secret message.”
“What kind of message?” Paul asks.
Alexei takes his time
to consider the question. “Warnings from his ancestors. Portents of what he must do, or not do.”
Paul thinks about it. “This dream seemed like a little of both.”
Alexei’s voice returns to normal. “Tell me of the dream, if you are willing.” His calming tone reinforces Paul’s trust.
“It was about Ms. Andressen,” Paul replies, watching for Alexei’s reaction in the rear view mirror. He glimpses recognition in Alexei’s eyes. “You know who she is.”
Alexei nods and focuses on the road ahead. “Yes, I know what it is.”
Paul leans forward to talk in Alexei’s ear. This mysterious man has captured his full attention. “That’s twice you’ve referred to her as it.”
“Correct,” Alexei says.
“What do you know, that I need to know?” Paul queries, his curiosity piqued.
Alexei pulls over on the side of the road. He turns to face Paul. “You will find yourself irresistibly attracted to this creature you see as a woman. It is not a woman. Do not allow yourself to succumb to the attraction. If you do, you will regret the consequences.”
Paul challenges his assertion. “Nonsense. I love my wife, Alexei. Lorelei is smoking hot, for sure, but she’s not irresistible.”
Alexei shakes his head, dismayed but not surprised that Paul does not yet understand. “Take counsel from the classic poem, The Odyssey. You know the poem. You are Odysseus. Strap yourself to the mast.” He resumes driving.
Paul digests Alexei’s counsel and recalls the Greek poem The Odyssey. Laura explained that Odysseus orders his crew to strap him to the mast and to stuff their own ears with ears with wax, allowing himself to hear the sirens’ song, while they cannot hear it or their captain’s pleas to steer their ship toward the sirens and into the rocky shoreline.
As Alexei turns onto the freeway, Paul revisits his early morning encounter with the mermaid Lorelei. No way! I was stoned out of my mind. Sirens aren’t real. Ellen’s bullshit is infecting our life.