Shades of Shame (Semper Fi) (4 page)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Patricia walked into David’s office; the steam emanating from the top of her head was nearly visible.  She spun around and faced him so abruptly that David was forced to stop suddenly, and the scotch in his glass rolled over the edge slightly.  “Damn it Patricia!” he shook his hand wildly in the air to rid it of the spilled liquid.

“Don’t start that shit with me!”  The forefinger of her right hand was perched near David’s left eyeball.  Fumes flew from her eyes, “Keep your nasty hands off my daughter!” she spat.  “She’s off limits!  Do you hear me David?  Out of bounds?  Off fucking limits!”

David shook his head, “Oh for Pete’s sake Patricia, put your panties back on.  I get the message.”

“Well you better have it loud and clear mister because; if you fuck my child I’ll have your cock hanging over
my
mantel!”

“It’d make a nice work of art!” David laughed.

Even Patricia had to laugh with him, and then shook her head, “I’m dead serious David, off limits.”

“Off limits,” he repeated.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Logan may have disappointed his parents by not being there on time, but it actually was a little easier for Leila.  This way she could just observe and take her mental notes without having to be involved too deeply in any topic of conversation.  Besides, she really didn’t want to complicate her summer goals with the distraction of a skinny, aloof, and silver spooned spoiled brat.

Dinner was a blur of incredible food.  There wasn’t a restaurant in New England that could match the Gracie’s skills in the kitchen.  Each course was appetizing and appealing to all senses.  Leila found her mind drifting lazily.  The hum of the conversation, which thankfully didn’t include her, went on uninterrupted as a monotone blur of background noise.  It allowed her to concentrate on the McNarry’s.  She them sized up, preparing to write down her impressions later that night.

Elise McNarry was a tall, beautiful woman, dignified in every way.  Each move she made, whether it be raising her glass or eating her meal, was a complete lesson in grace and elegance.  Her blonde hair was only a few shades darker than Leila’s, but her eyes were a startling shade of green that seemed magical.  Leila had never seen another woman quite like Elise:  she was fascinating.  At first you felt as though she wore her entire heart on her sleeve, ready to explode with emotion at any given second.  Leila knew that wasn’t the case.  She had the feeling that Elise McNarry was a master of controlling her world.  It was as though the people surrounding her were allowed to believe they were entitled to independent thought and actions, but only as long as it didn’t interfere with Elise’s plans.  The cheerfulness she exuded was nothing more than a detail in the carefully put together mirage that was Elise McNarry.  Leila couldn’t help but marvel at the way she handled herself; they were all mere apprentices beneath her… only they didn’t know it.  Leila saw her though, as clear as the sparkle in her green eyes.  She would study Elise; possibly even adopt some of her mannerisms.

And the Senator was dressed in a starched white monogrammed shirt, which offset his thick dark hair and illuminated his deep blue eyes.  He was the most handsome man Leila had ever seen.  He had a permanent half smile that showed the perfect white teeth befitting a man of his stature, and he seemed to find humor in everything.  Leila would’ve thought that such a grin would give the public reason to feel disrespected; instead his constituents felt connected to him, as though every single soul was an old buddy who had suddenly appeared after a long absence.  And his eyes watched everything and everyone all at once.  It didn’t seem to matter if it were Gracie delivering their dinner, his wife, or Patricia; his eyes devoured each one of them.  It wasn’t until his eyes met Leila’s that her blood warmed beyond a boiling point.  Her knees became weak under his brief gaze as his sexually charged energy spread across the table.  She subconsciously squeezed her thighs together, complimenting the electric feeling between her legs.  It was as if he could reach into her soul with nothing more than his eyes and hold her still.  He had no need for ropes and chains to bind his prisoners, not with those eyes. 
Damn he was dangerous!
 She could see clearly now why every woman in his office lined up to be with him.  Everyone, that is, except her mother.

Leila shifted in her seat, trying hard not to stare at him.  He smiled and stretched out his leg, touching his foot to hers while looking directly at his wife. 
He was
too
good at this!
 Leila thought.  She contemplated excusing herself to gather her bearings; he made her feel damp and uncomfortable in these surroundings.  He was the kind of man she would need to deal with, lull into her web with tactics these women would consider barbaric.  Yes, David McNarry needed handling, but first he needed to know who was in charge.  The sound of the front door opening grabbed everyone’s attention; Leila took her cue and quickly excused herself to kitchen.

“Bathroom?” she asked Gracie who sat at the round kitchen table sipping coffee while examining the newest People magazine.

“Second door on the right,” she said, pointing down the narrow hall without glancing up.

Leila thought she’d never get there; she closed the door as quickly as she could behind her and let out an exasperated breath. 
I must be having amateur hour
, she cursed herself.  One thing was for sure, she needed to get control of herself.  It wouldn’t do for her captive to sense her fear, and he may not know it yet but David McNarry was already a casualty of Leila’s war.  This dinner was reconnaissance as far as she was concerned, nothing more.  She hadn’t considered that a man could exude quite that much power.  One thing was sure; Leila would need to be more mentally prepared for their next encounter.  She scanned the small bathroom for a wash cloth, dropped it in the sink and ran cold water over it.  She wrung it out, and gently patted her forehead and the sides of her neck, being as careful as she could not to mess up her makeup.  She was on fire, and her lust for this man was overwhelming.

With irritation, she realized that she yearned to feel the sweet release of orgasm.  The foreign surroundings weren’t exactly helping that feeling; unusual locales always turned her on.  This was probably the nicest hall bathroom she had ever seen.  Like everything else in the house, not a dime had been spared on each detail.  She sat on the toilet and slid the cold washcloth behind her neck.  The cool air did little to calm her down as she stared directly into the mirror over the sink.  Even her nipples were straining against her top; the heat was just about unbearable.

She could hear Gracie talking in the other room, laughing.  The new voice was deep and soft, relaxing her tensed nerves and sending instant curiosity into her veins.  She quickly straightened her hair and placed the washcloth on the counter top before opening the door.  As she walked down the hall, she saw him. 
Whoa
, she thought. 
This couldn’t be Logan?

“Stand up straight!” Gracie said as she straightened his collar as though he were an errant child.  “And you apologize to your mother and her guests about being late, ya’ dern fool.”

“Yes ma’am,” the giant said with a laugh.

“Now get in there…” she started to say when she noticed Leila entering the kitchen.  “Wait a minute.”  She turned him around to face Leila.  “This is Miss Johnson.  Miss Leila Johnson.  Logan, say hello.”

With a sheepish grin that could only be matched by his father, he smiled and said, “Hello Leila.  I’m Logan.  Remember me?”  He turned his head and leaned towards her.

“Of course I do!” Leila remarked.  “How could I forget?”

Leila wouldn’t have recognized him in a million years if she’d seen him on the street yesterday.  But now in the presence of the McNarry’s he was instantly recognizable.  He had his mother’s mastery of his surroundings as well as her eyes and his father’s disturbing sexuality.  His demeanor rattled Leila to her very core.  She took a moment to remind herself that in the grand scheme of things Logan McNarry was inconsequential.  Time with him could accomplish nothing. 
It might be fun though…

“You two go on in and join the others for dessert, now!” Gracie said, pushing them both towards the door.

The Company You Keep

“Leila dear, you don’t mind keeping Logan company while he eats, do you?” Elise McNarry smiled innocently.

Leila stared across the elaborate dinner table at Logan.  She was still nearly speechless that this was the spoiled little boy she’d loved to torture as a child.  “Oh course not, Mrs. McNarry.  I’d love to,” she grinned sheepishly up at her hostess.

Elise turned on Logan, “For the record, young man, I am not at all fond of your tardiness.  I told you we were having company at seven.  Would you kindly tell me where you could’ve possibly been that you felt was more important?”  Elise glared at her son.  It was obvious that the polished woman was angry, but both Leila and Logan knew that she was incapable of staying that way.  Logan knew it because his mother thought he made the sun rise each morning.  At least that’s the way she made him feel.  It showed in Logan’s ‘mama’s boy’ attitude.  Leila knew it because she was privy to the one secret that Elise and her own mother shared.  She knew that Elise McNarry had a lover, maybe even more than one.  A lover that kept her so satisfied and fulfilled that anger was a misplaced emotion within her happy world.  She simply couldn’t hold on to it.  Leila smiled up at the gorgeous woman whose happiness was always infectious.

Logan shoveled another mouthful of steak into his mouth and chewed, “Oh c’mon, Mom!”  He stood up from the table, wiping his lips on the napkin from his lap, “I love you so much.  You know I wouldn’t be late for one of your dinner parties without good reason.”  He kissed her cheek but held his hands in front of him in oath, “That car that Dad just had fixed, lost its brakes down at the Marina!  My luck is that my boat was already hooked to the back of it!”

Elise’s face clouded, “You mean to tell me that you were stuck at the Marina this entire time?”

Logan kissed his mother on the cheek again and sat back down at the table, “Yes ma’am.  I had my phone with me though.  It just took a while to get a tow,” he nodded as he filled his mouth with baked potato.

“Why were you driving an office vehicle anyway?” Elise questioned with sternness.

Logan’s eyebrows rose with seriousness, “you don’t expect me to tow a boat with
my
car do you?”

“I wish you’d called me!” Elise said with a humph.

“No, no, Mother… if I had called you would have spent your entire dinner worrying about me, and there wasn’t a thing you could do.”  Logan noted the stress in his mothers’ forehead, “Mom, I swear I had it under control.  I’m a big boy now, believe it or not.  Now Mother, I don’t mean to be rude, but you just set me up with a stunning dinner date, this incredible woman.”  Logan smiled across the table at Leila.  “And having my Mom standing over me like a Mother Hen is cramping my style!” he laughed heartily.

Leila had never seen such a man. 
He must lift weights in his sleep to look like this!
  She returned his smile involuntarily. 
Damn it!  His happiness was just like his mother’s:  infectious!
 
He sure was a big boy now
, she thought as her own eyes instantly matched the twinkle in his.

Elise looked from Leila to Logan, then back to Leila, “You see what trouble these McNarry men are, Leila?  I’m warning you sweet girl, they will corrupt you!  Damned men will charm the pants right off you if you aren’t wearing a belt!”  The woman giggled like a teenager as she ruffled her son’s curly brown hair.

Leila slid her napkin from her lap and lifted the corner of her shirt.  “Don’t worry Mrs. McNarry, I wore protection!” she said, showing the leather Coach belt at the waistband of her black slacks.

Elise and Logan both laughed cheerfully as Leila joined their antics.  Elise kissed the top of her son’s head, but looked across the table at the young blonde.  She cared deeply for Leila; after all she was Patricia’s child.  It worried her that the girl had always been so serious.  The girl always seemed so guarded; it seems as though even Logan has a way of cutting right through
that
, Elise smiled conspiratorially.  “Alright my darlings, you two catch up.  But for the record Logan, if you are ever stuck without brakes again, I’d appreciate a phone call!  We’re all lucky you didn’t roll right off the docks into the water!  Am I clear?”

Logan looked up at her over his shoulder and barked with military precision, “Yes ma’am!  Crystal.”

Elise knocked him in the back of the head, a bit too roughly, “You are not a Marine, nor will you ever be!  Have you
not
seen your father’s scars?  I won’t have it, Logan.  I simply won’t have another McNarry man in the military!”  She paced towards the doorway still ranting, “I swear you all are going to drive me to the nut house one day!  I’m going to drink now!” she stomped from the room in exaggerated distraught.

Logan laughed and shook his head as his mother left the room, “My mother the nut case!”

He was strikingly handsome when he laughed Leila noted, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him since he’d walked in.  Even her skin prickled as she memorized his every feature.  “So Logan, what have you been up to for the last oh… what is it?  Ten years?”  She leaned forward and stabbed her fork in the remains of her desert plate.

“Mmm…” Logan murmured as he swallowed.  Gracie’s steak was the best, but that thought was pushed to the far realms of his mind as he studied Leila.  She was taller than she’d been, of course, and her nearly white blonde hair hadn’t darkened as she’d matured. 
It gave her an almost ethereal glow
he thought.  He’d always thought that she was part angel when he was a child.  Logan remembered her as somewhat of a bitch though.  He recalled her babysitting for him, even though she was only two years older, and he resented that at the time.  All those times playing at her townhouse while their Mom’s were upstairs… doing ‘lady stuff.’  That’s what they called it, ‘lady stuff.’  Logan had imagined them trying on shades of lipstick and leafing through Cosmopolitan magazine.  His mother had told him that her ‘lady time’ was what kept her sane.  It’d been the only reason he tolerated Patricia Johnson’s stuck up daughter…for his mother’s sanity.  Now that ‘stuck up’ little blonde girl was a raving beauty, and he caught himself being mesmerized by her cleavage.