Strapped (22 page)

“Yeah, three time all-American.”
Of course.

“Impressive! Was that your only sport?” I feel much more comfortable than I predicted. I thought last night would be a cloud of shame hanging over me, but Taylor is acting completely normal and that reassures me that everything will be fine. I sit down, letting my feet hang into the water, Taylor is stands right in front of my legs, his crooked smile gleaming in the bright sun.

“Well, swimming was one of my favorites, but I also played tennis, and I fenced. Did you pay any sports?”

“I played soccer in high school, but I didn’t pursue it any further.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know...my enthusiasm kind of faded. I thought I wasn’t good enough. Looking back though, I was a lot better than I gave myself credit for. What are your plans for today?”

“I have to head into the office today. I would have postponed my meetings, but we have associates from China coming in and they wouldn’t take kindly to that. I am glad you woke up before I had to go, I wasn’t sure how you would feel after last night. You kind of just crashed and seemed a little bit shocked.” It is his first mention of my introduction to the lifestyle since last night. “So...how are you?”

“I’m okay.” I feel sheepish. “I guess I need some time to absorb it.”

“Why don’t we grab a quick bite to eat?”

I agree and we set off back into the house. Taylor invites me to shower with him upstairs. I remember when I showered up there alone with the jets, wishing I was in there with him, and it brings a smile to my face. We stand in the huge shower stall, various bursts of hot water hitting our bodies.

“Let’s play a game.” I declare.

“Ok, what’s the game?”

“I soap up your back and then I trace a three-letter word with my fingers. You get three chances to guess it, if you don’t you have to do whatever I say.” Taylor gives me a puzzled smirk.

“Did you just invent this game?”

“When I was little and I used to bathe with my cousins, we would do this, except it was way more innocent and there were no consequences to getting it wrong.”

“Oh...this feels even dirtier now that I know that! You go first.”

Taylor turns his back to me. His wide shoulders trace down to a narrow waist and hips, his butt is perfectly taut and smooth. I lather him up and trace the letters H-O-T.

“Not fair. You have to go slower.”

“I can only spell it for you three times.” This time I trace the letters slower and he gets it right away.

‘HOT!”

“Oh come on! Don’t you ever mess up?”

“Turn around. It’s my turn.”

I feel his large hands gently rubbing my back, creating a large lather. How bizarre that these gentle fingers were instruments of pain last night.

“Okay, guess.”

Damn! My short attention span just got the best of me.

I laugh and shake my head in bewilderment. “I have no idea, please retrace!” His fingers trace my back so quickly that I can’t even make out a single letter.

“Are you writing in cursive?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“That’s against the rules!”

“You never stated I had to print the letters. You only have one more try.”

“No fair! You’re cheating! I know what you’re up to.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I can hear him smirking behind me. This time he goes quickly, but in print. I feel the letter “S” and the clear trace of the letter “X” on my back.

“Sex! You are so predictable!”

“Wrong! The word was ‘sax’ as in ‘saxophone.’ You’re the one with the filthy mind. God, all you ever do is think about sex!” He looks down and smiles and then I see a lightbulb go off in his head. “So, aren’t I supposed to get whatever I want?”

“Yes...,” I draw the word out long and slowly. Now that I know what he is all about, this can open up a myriad of requests.

“Well, I have to run, so as much as I want to take my time with you, I can’t.” He eyes me up and down, biting his lip while thinking. As I wait, I notice he is now fully erect. “Bend over and let me see that fine ass of yours,” he says firmly and I am thankful for the fact that we are in the upstairs bathroom far away from Irma, who is cleaning the downstairs kitchen.

Chapter Twenty

As Taylor is getting ready, I check on my cellphone. I see a few missed calls. Once is from Kristin, the other is a number I do not recognize. I listen to that voicemail first:

“Hello Shyla. This is Chad Lemmings from Rubix Marketing. We received your application and would like you to come in for an interview. Please give me a call to schedule a time.”

I tell Taylor that I got an interview. “You’ll get the job if they meet you. I am not going to lie, I kind of like having you all to myself, but I know you’ll get it.” Taylor promises he will try to get back as early as he can, but since he is entertaining out of towners, he may come home late. I text Kristin and ask if she wants to come over for dinner and she accepts. Taylor has warmed up to me telling people about us and is happy to have Kristin visit, but he wants no details about his secret life revealed. This is extremely hard, considering I tell Kristin everything. I vow to myself and Taylor to keep mum no matter how tempting it will be.

My next step is to call Chad from Rubix. His demeanor, at least on the phone, is entirely different from Taylor’s demeanor when I was interviewing for H.I. I welcome this as I only have room for one eclectic control freak in my life. We book an interview for the next day. I see this as a good sign. They are either eager to fill this position, very interested in me, or both.

I hop in Ladybug to grab some fresh clothes and I finally have some alone time to contemplate the ominous texts. I don’t want to worry Taylor, and I honestly think I am the random victim of some stupid prank. I have no enemies; I have, until now, lead a very normal life.
Until now.
Is this an ex-sub of Taylor’s? I decide that only if I cannot resolve the issue on my own will I tell him. Things have been complicated enough already. Once I get home, the quick trip turns into an entire day of cleaning, sorting through mail, and errands. I head back to Taylor’s at around 4pm, just in time to do some laundry, and hang up my interview clothes in Taylor’s guest closet. The doorbell rings around 5:15 pm. Kristin’s eyes are wide with excitement when I open the door.

“Shyla! This place is fantastic!”

“Thanks, I guess. It’s not mine, but I am sure Taylor would love that you love it. Come on in.” Her eyes scan the enormous foyer. We take a seat on the couch in the great room. “You have to catch me up on your life. Have you spoken to Rick?”

“No, I think it’ll be a while.” I bow my head in shame. I know this looks bad, but I need to give him space. The wounds are too raw.

“I ran into him the other day at the grocery store.”

“Really? How is he?”

“He seems to be doing well. Of course, he didn’t share his innermost feelings, but he looks like he is functioning and not moping on his couch eating pizza and ice cream all day.”

“Well, I am happy for him. I want him to be happy and I hope he and I can be friends again.”

We order supper and I give her the grand tour of the house. I worry that even Kristin thinks in the back of her mind that I am enamored by Taylor’s wealth. I can live on modest means, I have my entire life. You could even accuse me of pure lust and I wouldn’t take offense, but the money alone would never motivate me to engage in a relationship. As a result, I find myself constantly excusing his wealth or the gifts he has given me as I talk to Kristin.

“Shyla, I know you are not about the money. He seems like a nice guy from what you describe. In fact, he seems perfect.”
Perfect.
Something about that word causes me to want to explode into a mess of tears, but I hold it in. I am scared. I am scared of how my life has completely changed and how he is still very much a mystery. There is so much I don’t understand about him or us. At the same time, I am thrilled. Thrilled that his mere presence makes me feel light and heady, that he is kind, that he cares so much for me, that he is beautiful and funny and intelligent and that he wants
me.
Instead, I hold it all in.

“What’s wrong?” She knows me too well.

“Nothing. I can’t tell.”

“Woah. Woah. Now you must. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Yes! He is great. I am just nervous about getting into something else so quickly, but I really like him. I mean, I really like him.”

“Timing is a bitch sometimes. I don’t know what to tell you. We both know my love life is a mess. No matter what happens though, you have me!”

We spend the rest of the night eating, drinking, and catching up. Kristin fills me in on her life: All of her studying and the cute law student named Sean that she has been seeing. It feels so good to have this time with her. She is my rock. There is nothing like time alone with your best friend. Our conversation is only interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I look at the clock, it is already half past ten. Taylor walks into the great room, his tie loosened, and his hair disheveled. I jump up, eager to introduce. Kristin follows suit. Nerves and excitement collide; this is the introduction of two very important people in my life.

“Hi Taylor.” He looks tired.

“Hey Shy.” Kristin knows that I allow no one to call me that. I see her eyebrow quickly cock in recognition of the name.

“You must be Kristin. So nice to finally meet you.” Kristin goes in for a hug. Oh shit. I totally forgot to tell her!

He doesn’t hug back and I see immediate discomfort in his face. Kristin seems oblivious to his uneasiness and releases. Taylor becomes fidgety, and I see him struggling to stay present. I softly grab his hand, hoping my touch can ground him. I jump in to get the tension out of the air.

“How were the Chinese visitors?”

“Oh, same old. I wish I could give you an interesting story, but this is a very formal group. When we get a fun group, you and Kristin can join us. There is nothing traveling businessmen love more than the company of attractive young women.” Kristin blushes.

“I should get going.” I know she doesn’t want to leave, but she feels like the third wheel.

“Stay for a drink. Harrison can drive you home.”

“Thank you, but my car is here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll have someone else follow Harrison with your car.”

“That seems like a lot of trouble.”

“I can’t let you drink here and drive. I know that bottle was unopened in my cellar, and now it’s empty. No way are you driving home. I am going to go change quickly if that’s okay.”

He heads to the bedroom as Kristin whispers to me. “Shy he is even hotter in person, you bitch, and he’s a gentleman.” I shrug innocently at her.

“I’ll see if he has a friend.” I wink and we sit back down on the couch. Taylor returns in a white T-shirt and sweatpants. He plops next to me and puts his arm over the back of the couch around me. Kristin sits on the other side of the coffee table on another couch. The talk flows naturally. As Kristin starts to get more comfortable, I can sense that she is trying to feel him out. She has no idea who she is up against for he is a master of charm and the owner of multiple personalities. I can tell that Taylor genuinely likes Kristin. He is loose around her and more verbose than with those that he simply entertains out of obligation. I knew he would like her. I love Kristin, she is so special to me, and anyone who doesn’t get her would have some serious issues with me. One more drink becomes another hour. Taylor has learned that Kristin is afraid of horses, that she hates the smell of bacon, and that she secretly had a crush on George Stephanopoulos in middle school. Taylor hasn’t really divulged anything specific about himself other than his love for fast cars, which was a topic I introduced. He has a way of appearing to share so much about himself without sharing much of anything at all.

Once midnight arrives, Harrison and someone else Taylor just refers to as a “staff member” take Kristin home. She gives me a big hug and whispers in my ear “I like him a lot. I am so happy for you.” I can tell Taylor is completely wiped out and we go right to bed.

The next morning, Taylor insists I hitch a ride with him and Harrison since we are both headed downtown. For the interview, I chose a charcoal grey fitted pantsuit with a deep red blouse. I opted for simple black pumps to complete the look. My hair is in a bun and I apply simple eye makeup and red lipstick. I often find that people think I look younger than my age and the red lipstick, at least I hope, makes me look more mature.

I give Taylor a peck on the lips and step out of the SUV towards the tower that holds Rubix Marketing. The position I am applying for is assistant director of the creative department. It is a a step up, but I know I can handle the task. My time at H.I. has given me the confidence to take on new challenges. Rubix is on the 35th floor. It has the typical contemporary look of a marketing agency: glass, light wood, modern art. Awards and campaigns hang proudly on the walls. The receptionist, a young, perky brunette with a short bob, welcomes me to have a seat as she notifies Chad of my arrival. Chad is the director of the creative department and the person to whom I would directly report. Within five minutes, he walks briskly out of the corridor. He is tall and slender and looks so very young for his position. He wears thick-brimmed black glasses, and although his facial hair is scruffy his dirty blond head is perfectly coiffed a la 1960s. He wears a yellow and black plaid shirt tucked into a pair of skinny jeans that look pleasantly worn-in, all topped off by a pair of canvas tennis shoes. I stand to greet him.

“Shyla, so nice to meet you. I am so sorry, but Laura, the director of advertising, was also supposed to be here. Her son got sick at school and she had to leave just a few minutes ago. She wanted me to apologize because it looks like you’re just stuck with me.” His humor helps break the ice. He leads me to a small conference room and closes the door.

“So Shyla, I know there is a procedure to all this. I can grab a how-to manual on interviewing and grill you with all of the typical questions, but I would rather just chat like two human beings.” I like this guy already. “So tell me about yourself and why you are interested in the position and we can go from there.”

He crosses his leg and leans back into his office chair. Time for me to lay on the charm. “Sure! Well, I have been freelancing for a while. I really enjoyed the freedom of that. I also gained a lot of experience in working one-on-one with clients and managing a small business. I did that successfully for a couple of years and then I was given the opportunity to intern at Holden Industries. At first, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back into the corporate world, but I was shocked at how much I enjoyed working as part of a team and the challenge of hitting deadlines. I really liked that sense of camaraderie.”

“Holden Industries. Now that’s impressive! You worked directly with Taylor Holden it says here. Were you given an opportunity to continue there after the internship?”

“Yes, I was.” I know the next question, and I have my answer prepped.

“So who turns down a job at Holden Industries?”

“Well, it was tough, but the role I was offered was not something that allowed me to flex my creative muscles. At heart, I am a designer and the job was a lot of number crunching and analyzing of data. My heart just wasn’t in it.”

“I can appreciate that.”

We spend the next few minutes discussing my skills, what programs I use, and my portfolio. Chad is relaxed, yet fast-paced. His demeanor immediately makes me feel comfortable. I could see myself being good friends with this guy. After a while, we find ourselves talking about personal things, such as our tastes in music, places we have traveled to, and our dreams. It doesn’t feel like an interview at all. I believe this is a good thing, but I am not entirely sure.

Chad looks down at his watch and mentions he has lost track of time and that he has to head to a meeting in five minutes. We briefly get back on track and talk about the specific responsibilities of the job, and how he and I would work together if I was offered the position. He then hastily, but warmly, escorts me to the elevator.

“Shyla, thanks so much for meeting with me today. I will have to talk to Laura about the interview as we always make decisions together, but I think you would make a good fit here. We hope to make a decision this week.” His smile reveals two dimples that make his baby face even more boyish. I feel really good about this interview and working with Chad. He seems so normal and I think I could use that in a boss for once.