The Chauffeur 33 Thanksgiving
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DoceoChapter 14: Thanksgiving free porn video
The appearance of Tess/Beth was so completely unexpected that I felt my body going into shock. Why would a fellow Docent lie about her name and age, then claim to be a client? As she walked towards me I couldn't decide whether to be pissed off about being duped or relieved that I'd almost called out the correct name. A lot had happened in the three months since our fateful date, yet I could still remember the way she bashfully shook my hand when we first met and then eagerly absorbed everything I taught.
My emotions threatened to completely cloud my judgment, so I forced my Institute training to take over. In a slightly detached calm, I realized that there was no way she had set this up on her own. It had to be Kael.
I closed my eyes, willed my body to relax, and my anger turned ice cold as I struggled with the realization that Kael had used a fellow Docent to betray my trust.
"Alex?" the girl called, interrupting my thoughts as she got up and timidly made her way towards me.
"Beth," I replied, and it felt awkward to use her real name after sharing so many intimate moments where I called her Tess.
The use of her real name startled Beth. Her eyes widened and she hesitated before taking the last few steps towards me. My anger returned, the force of my glare causing her to move back. Unable to face me she meekly nodded, looked away and waited for me to continue.
"We need to talk," I said quietly, not wanting to make the confrontation any more public than it already was, "but not here," and I headed towards one of the private rooms.
Though I hadn't yelled, or even raised my voice, Beth was visibly shaken and tears were flowing freely by the time we arrived in one of the suites. If she were just a client I may have been more sympathetic, but Docents are trained to control and use their emotions, and her reaction seemed forced.
"Stop," I commanded, pointedly wiping the wetness from her cheeks. "Tears are useful in gaining sympathy or begging forgiveness, but I'm not sure you fully understand what you're asking me to forgive."
My words may have been harsh, but they had the intended effect. I could almost feel her training taking over as she forced herself to relax and stop crying.
"I almost retired because of you."
"But you were incredible!"
With a finger on her chin I forced her to meet my eyes.
"I thought I'd almost called out the wrong name."
Calling the wrong name was one of the biggest mistakes an Elite could make with a client. It was clear Beth had not realized that I'd somehow recognized her from our brief encounters at the Institute while we were still together in London.
"It was all Kael's idea," she whispered.
"You let yourself be used."
"He made me promise not to tell."
"And you just blindly trusted Kael when he asked you to lie to a fellow Docent?"
"I didn't want to lie," she whispered, rubbing her arms as if to wipe the guilt away.
"Then why did you?" I asked sharply.
Biting her lip, Beth silently shook her head. As the silence dragged out she visibly shuddered. "I'm going to kill Kael," she hissed through gritted teeth.
I was pissed, but venting my anger on Beth felt misplaced and wasn't making me feel any better. Taking a calming breath, I tried to gather my thoughts and figure out how this mess could have benefited either of us.
"If anyone's going to kill Kael, it'll be me." I strode across to the couch and sat down. Beth followed and timidly perched on the chair across from me.
"If you can't explain why you lied, think about this. Why did Kael pick you to deceive me?"
Caught off guard, she stammered, "He said we were a good match and that he just needed a little favor."
"And you believed him?"
"Of course, he was your client manager. Shouldn't he know best?"
"Oh, come on Beth," I mocked, rolling my eyes. "Maybe Kael sent you because you were too trusting."
"That's ridiculous," she snapped. Though she looked eager to argue with me, she seemed to be having trouble coming up with a better explanation.
In the awkward silence, I glanced at my watch and was surprised at how much time had passed.
"This argument isn't going anywhere and I need to go catch my flight. I suggest you think long and hard about this mess."
"Like I could think about anything else?" she mumbled, and it was clear she was already trying to sort things out.
Beth looked startled when I got up to leave. "I know it probably doesn't mean much now, but I want to apologize. I never faked any of our intimacy and wish I hadn't lied about my name."
Her apology seemed sincere, but wasn't nearly enough to make me miss my flight.
"You're not going to forgive me, are you?"
"Not yet," I agreed, more annoyed than angry and quickly running out of patience for her excuses.
"Wait, I can explain..."
"No Beth, you can't," I snapped, turning away.
Her eyes were glistening when I headed towards the door, but this time she made no effort to control the tears. I was impressed that she had the willpower not to call out or give chase as the door slowly shut behind me. Maybe one day we would sit down and talk things through, but first I needed some answers from Kael.
I was still mildly in shock as I left the Docent Lounge and headed towards my gate.
One thing was clear: Tess's real name being Beth meant I'd been completely vindicated. This epiphany left me feeling as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Yet as my former confidence returned, I felt an ever growing rage over the violation of my trust.
Grabbing my cell phone, I angrily called Kael. As usual he picked up on the first ring, but I didn't even wait for him to say hello.
"Kael, you bastard, I want you waiting for me in Denver's Docent Lounge when I get back to Colorado on Sunday."
"Alex, that's simply not possible," he soothed, and from the tone of his voice it was obvious he'd been expecting my call.
"Kael, recently you've done a lot of things I thought were impossible," I snapped. "I don't care what you have to do, I expect you to be here when I return."
Without waiting for a response I slammed the phone shut, taking some satisfaction that I was finally taking control.
I was still angry when I boarded the plane, but had the whole flight to gather my thoughts. To help simplify things I assumed Beth was a pawn and quickly dismissed her from my mind. Kael's actions, on the other hand, were simply inexcusable. I'd worked with Kael for the last four years and, as my Client Manager, I needed to be able to completely trust his suggestions.
As my anger slowly simmered I made a weak attempt to consider Kael's motives. The problem was that no matter how I thought about it, I couldn't see any benefit for betraying my trust. Why on earth would Kael have worked so hard to help me get to the top, then purposely set me up to fail?
The whole situation didn't make sense. I still hadn't come to any plausible conclusions by the time we began our descent into San Jose International Airport. With a sigh of frustration I used my Institute training to put my personal problems on hold so that I could focus on the coming weekend. This helped calm my nerves, but I was used to dealing with much smaller frustrations and I was still distracted when I disembarked.
As I exited the terminal, I saw mom and dad waiting for me just past security. They looked a lot different than I remembered: Mom was much shorter and my Dad's curly hair was more salt and pepper than pure black. Although I now referred to most adults by their first names, I doubt I would ever be able to call my parents Susan and Dennis.
Unsure of how to greet them after such a long absence, I naively held out my hand to Mom, only to have her crush it between us when she engulfed me in a hug. After several moments, she pulled away and I was surprised when Dad also gave me a hug and vigorously pounded me on the back.
"We're proud of you, son," Dad gruffed once we finally separated.
My still paranoid mind worried that they'd been coached by Kael on how to welcome me back into the family, but Dad's sentiment seemed genuine. I tried to think back on why I assumed they wouldn't be enthusiastic to see me. Other than my own avoidance and a lack of common ground, I drew a blank.
Embarrassed by my assumptions, I grabbed my bag and silently vowed to be more open minded about how the rest of the weekend might turn out.
As we headed towards the car I couldn't help glancing around for my little sister.
"Where's Mariel?"
"Mer decided to spend the night at a friend's house, so it'll just be the three of us at dinner."
"That's too bad," I sighed as we loaded my bags and piled into the car. Perhaps they wanted more time for us to be alone, but I later talked with Mariel and strongly suspected it was her idea.
Dad tried to keep the conversation going by asking, "How was your trip?"
"It was ... interesting," I hedged, not wanting to discuss my meeting with Beth.
"Good," replied Mom. Noticing my hesitation to say more she quickly changed the subject. "So, what have you been up to?"
And so they began drilling me on all that had happened since I'd last visited. At the same time I learned that Dad had been promoted to CFO (Chief Financial Officer) of one of Silicon Valley's local IT companies, and that they'd moved to Cupertino so that he would have less of a commute.
The new house was bigger, but it didn't feel like home when we pulled into the drive. Mom was making beef stroganoff, one of my favorites, for dinner and the house smelled delicious from the simmering sauce. It was already past dinner time, so instead of getting settled we decided to just hang out in the kitchen while waiting for the noodles to boil.
I was worried when we finally sat down to dinner that they would try to force the issue of why I hadn't visited sooner. But again they had either been coached or still knew me well enough not to push too hard.
Things nearly came to a head when I boasted, "With my Elite status I was virtually guaranteed admission to any college or university."
"Then why didn't you go to Stanford so you could be closer to home?" Dad asked. Actually, it was more of a demand than a question, but it was also his first indication of being hurt by my absence.
Carefully considering my words, I replied, "Would you rather be a big fish in a small pond, or a big fish in an ocean of big fish?"
He seemed ready to continue his protest, so I conceded, "It may have been easier to fit in at Stanford as they usually have an Elite on campus, but I needed a break and wanted a fresh start."
Dad studied me seriously for a moment before slowly breaking into an impish grin.
"And I suppose your shit doesn't stink either?" he chuckled, winking at Mom.
"Not the last time I checked," I replied, struggling to keep a straight face. We stared at each other, our grins getting bigger until he started laughing.
"So are you still accepting clients?" Mom asked, trying hard not to smile.
"Sometimes I work with clients on weekends, but I travel much less now."
"Well, that's good," Mom encouraged with a significant look towards Dad. It was obvious she was trying to keep the conversation positive.
Playing along, Dad asked, "I've heard Colorado College is a good school, but how do you like the block plan?"
Now I was certain they'd been coached, as very few people knew of CC, let alone the block plan. But they were trying to be nice so I saw no reason not to indulge them. It was flattering to brag about my school, and for once we seemed to have something to talk about, as taking classes and struggling to fit in were things they could relate to.
We ended up talking for several hours. It was only after I stifled my second yawn that they remembered Colorado was in a different time zone and suggested we head to bed.
Looking a little embarrassed, Mom explained, "We had to pack up your stuff when we moved, and since we hadn't heard from you for so long, we decided to leave the third bedroom as a guest room."
"That's fine," I assured them as they helped me bring my stuff upstairs and get settled into the guest bedroom.
After saying goodnight I saw the stack of neatly labeled boxes in the corner with my name on them. I assumed this was the "stuff" they had been referring to. It was almost comical when I opened the first box and realized it was all from when I last lived at home more than seven years prior.
I'd never kept a journal, but the knickknacks and class projects brought back a lot of fond memories. I was glad that my parents weren't there to remind me of my terrible handwriting and the hilarity of trying to help an 11-year-old trying to write a formal report on Dinosaurs. I was tempted to throw most of it away, but everything was already boxed and seemed to be tucked out of the way.
It had been a very busy day, and I was exhausted from taking my final, talking with Beth, and reuniting with my parents. Yet I had a difficult time falling asleep. I'd grown accustomed to my soundproofed room and sleeping with The Girls.
Strangely, while it wasn't the most restful night's sleep, it felt good to be home.
Sleeping in the next day, I started it with lunch. I was in the living room reading ahead for my second block of 'Intro to Economics' when Mariel finally returned home. Aside from noisily stomping up the stairs, she made no attempt to see me. Fondly remembering our turbulent past, I decided to treat her like a difficult client and went back to my reading, assuming she would stop by when she was ready.
It was several minutes before she petulantly entered the room.
"I'm supposed to talk to you," she announced.
"Hey there Sis," I replied, pointedly ignoring her tone as I set my book aside. "Do you want to sit down?"
"It's Mariel, and I don't even know you," she insisted, though she did take the seat nearest me.
We used to fight all the time, even when I was just visiting. But our arguments usually had more bark than bite, were practically scripted in their phases, and we always made up at the end.
In her way I think Mariel was trying to be nice, since usually the angrier she sounded, the more she actually wanted to just "properly vent" before making up. It used to take hours before she was able to tell me what it was she needed to get off her chest. I silently willed myself to have the patience to wait her out.
"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" she demanded.
By the way she was fidgeting I could tell she was just looking for an excuse to rant, so I offered my standard come back, "You were much more fun before you learned to talk."
"God, I hate you!" she cried and got up to storm around the room.
I was actually shocked that she'd skipped right to the final, 'I hate you, ' phase of our arguments. Raising an eyebrow, I waited for her to continue only to have her stand right in front of me and begin impatiently tapping her foot. With her hands on her hips, she glared at me and I was strangely disappointed that the argument would be cut short.
"And why is that?"
"Because you always cared more about your clients than you ever did about me."
My gaze narrowed, but I knew better than to rise to her barb.
"Feel better?"
"Yes," she snapped, joining me on the couch. Her eyes bored into me looking for some reaction that would prove she'd been correct in her assertion. At the same time she seemed uncomfortable with my terse reply, perhaps worried that she'd gone too far.
She was right, but it hurt to admit she was right.
Hoping to change the subject, I asked, "So how's it going?"
"Fine," she hedged, biting her lip and slowing inching closer. "I still don't like you."
"You don't even know me," I sighed, angry at myself for not staying in touch.
"Exactly," she agreed, and by this point she was sitting right beside me.
Misinterpreting my anger, she took a deep breath, pointed at my Iugum, and asked, "So can I see it?"
"Sure," I agreed holding out my hand, curious as she'd seen it several times before.
Visibly stealing her resolve, she insisted, "Well, aren't you going to take it off?"
Laughing, I pulled her in for a hug. Mariel and I never apologized. Whenever one of us felt they may have gone too far, they would offer an argument they were sure to lose. If the other felt wronged, they would accept and mercilessly rip it to shreds. There was no way my sister was ignorant of any Institute protocol.
I could tell she still had more to get off her chest, but she wasn't eager to have a 'deep conversation' just yet. Instead I learned all about how she liked her new school, the cute boys in her class, how she now had homework almost every night ... It was the typical 'What have you been up to these last two years?' sort of stuff, but it broke the ice.
I smiled when Mariel became increasingly chatty as her excitement grew, and it again reminded me of our previous conversations. Only this time she was old enough to be able to stay on topic, or at least explain things in a slightly logical order. At times it almost felt like I was talking to one of the Institute's new recruits as she never seemed to become embarrassed by any of my questions.
Eventually the sounds of Thanksgiving dinner being prepared became too loud to ignore.
"Come on, I think Mom could use some help in the kitchen."
As I stood up I offered Mariel my hand. After considering for a moment, she accepted and didn't let go as we walked to the kitchen.
The relatives started arriving around five and the house was packed by the time we all sat down to dinner at six. I think Mariel was a little miffed at being relegated to the kids' table while I got to eat with the adults, but honestly I think she had more fun.
Everyone was thrilled that I was back home and was doing well in college. They all seemed to have some question about the Institute that they'd been waiting to ask 'when I got older.' I actually blushed when my parents joined the conversation and asked for advice. But it was flattering to be treated like a Docent working with adult clients.
The food was excellent and there was plenty of it. I'd like to think that my caramelized sweet potatoes with marshmallows were a smashing success, but honestly everything was devoured. Aside from some turkey, there weren't any leftovers by the time we started clearing the table and headed out into the living room to socialize.
It felt really good to be able to hang out with family. Most of my cousins didn't remember me, but a few were now entering high school and just starting to get interesting.
Eventually the younger cousins managed to wear themselves out and even Mariel curled up next to me on the couch and started to doze.
"It's getting late," I hinted when my arm started to go numb after Mariel had tucked it around her shoulders to use as a pillow.
"Ok," she agreed, stumbling up and grabbing my hand. "But you're tucking me in."
Something told me this may have been planned. Aside from an indulgent nod from Mom when we bade everyone goodnight, no one commented when Mariel and I headed upstairs.
Once in her room, Mariel immediately began changing into her PJs, not the least concerned that I almost saw her naked before gallantly turning around to give her some privacy. The incest taboo had faded since the Institute introduced a 100% effective and reversible birth control shot. Though we were very comfortable around each other, I had plenty of former clients, but only one little sister.
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