PathwaysChapter 13 Settling In and Getting Involved
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1994Chapter 11: Involvements free porn video
The plane ride was a good time to reflect on the activities of the last few weeks and make plans for the immediate future. While I could cross off some of the items from my previous list, others were still pending. Meanwhile, new issues had popped up that needed to be added.
The Baltimore building was presently in limbo. After a less than satisfactory meeting with Edith and Tom, it was a good thing that I had not made definite arrangements to meet Sandra Lynch there next week.
Helping Doug go into business was still up in the air. If it wasn't for his wife's strong feelings regarding his capabilities, and John Oldham's unwillingness to give up just yet, I would have abandoned the project. I had a feeling that if we went ahead with the venture, Doug was always going to be a drain on my time.
Marcie, though she didn't mean to, was calling out to me for help. It was just a feeling I had, something that played with my emotions below the surface. She'd supported me through thick and thin. This was my chance to give back, whether she knew she needed my help or not.
Finally, there was Cynthia. Perhaps I overstepped my bounds sometimes, but when I offered advice, she always accepted it. She relied on me to make the decisions. Still outstanding, were settling on a financial advisor and finding a competent tax advisor, but those items would take care of themselves. It was her psyche that required constant attention.
It was apparent to me that Cynthia Collingsworth had never been given the type of attention that I provided. Even with her wealth, it was the smallest of things that gave her the most pleasure. Holding a child, or being given permission to wear high heels to an event produced genuine happiness. Being told she was going to be taken to a wedding generated a disproportionate amount of gratitude. Now, she wanted to pretend to be my first sexual partner.
While it gave me an enormous amount of satisfaction to make her life enjoyable, I was always on alert, fearful that others would misconstrue my motives. I think that down deep, I was conscious of my intrigue with her wealth, the very thing that I fought hard to conceal. At least she had not mentioned adding my name to her checking account lately.
I believe Tom Collingsworth knew that my intentions were altruistic, something we had in common.
All in all, I felt good about the way my life was progressing. I was confident in my abilities, secure, and reasonably happy. My present day life held no resemblance to the expectations I had that July day in 1985 when I went home early. I was tempted to stand up and announce to the other passengers, "I'm Sammy Oldham and I've got the world by the tail."
Neill Fenton met my flight and was anxious for me to see the progress he'd made on the building. Neill had been my mentor since the summer I worked for him in San Francisco, mainly delivering messages to workmen and cleaning up after them. I leaned the basics of construction that summer, but the following year, when we were in Atlanta, I participated in the decision process for the short time we were together. Now, I was a full time employee of the Oldham Companies and Neill looked to me for direction.
The tour of the building took much longer than it should have, partly because of Neill's detailed descriptions of the discoveries he'd made and partly because of my constant interruptions. Neither of us mentioned that we'd missed lunch. We made plans to work at the Denver office the following day, and I had him drop me at the hotel, saying that I needed to contact the office before Wanda went home.
I first called Barney in the Denver office to arrange for Neill and I to work there on Thursday. I'd only planned to spend the morning there until he informed me that his staff was anxious to hear about our plans for subdividing the building.
"We have three companies interested in taking space and I'm sure they would like to meet you," he said.
"That sounds good to me," I said, and we made plans for Neill and I to give his staff an overview of the plans, and repeat the same overview to the prospective tenants over lunch. We discussed the advisability of talking to representatives from all three companies at the same time and decided there would be no conflict as long as we didn't enter serious negotiations with any of them.
After ending that call, I called Neill to advise him of the change to our schedule. He asked if he should wear a suit and I told him it was not necessary, telling him that I was not sure if I would wear one either.
Wanda's report was so rushed that I almost knew she had a more pressing matter to discuss. "Doug's been calling, Cynthia wanted me to remind you to call her tonight, Sandra Lynch is desperate to speak with you, and my mother wants to know if she and Tom can pay you another visit on Sunday. She says it doesn't need to be for dinner."
"Call Doug and tell him to meet me at that same place for breakfast at seven on Saturday morning. Send my dad a note to let him know I'll pick him up at a quarter before seven. If you see Cynthia, tell her I'll call about seven. Tell your Mom to come for dinner. I assume they've changed their minds about the Baltimore building and want to hear more. That's good. Send another note to my dad to invite him and Suzanne to have dinner with us, and that I'll fill him in about it when I see him on Saturday. Now, tell me what's really on your mind? Did something happen that I need to know about?"
"Sammy, why do you always think you know what I'm going to say? Julius is coming for the weekend. He wants to meet you and Cynthia. May I bring him to her house on Saturday?"
"Congratulations, you gave that kid a taste of an older woman and whetted his appetite for more."
"Sammy, don't be crude. If you scare him off I'll never forgive you. Please tell me you'll meet him. He may not come if you say no."
"Tell him we'll be happy to meet him. I know Cynthia is planning to shop all morning, but I'll be back before ten so why don't you plan to come for lunch. I'm anxious to hear what he has to say about the stock."
"Thank you, Sammy. You're a dear."
"I wouldn't want to be the one to spoil your fun," I said, chuckling to myself.
"There's one more phone call that you need to know about. Dora Ferris wants to speak to you. Do you have her number?"
"Give it to me," I said, wondering how I could let her down easily. Dora wanted Cynthia to give her husband another chance, and was willing to do anything to persuade me to sway Cynthia. I jotted down the number and placed the note on my nightstand. It was too late to reach Dora at the child care center where she worked.
Before I let her go, I asked Wanda to send a memo to Simon Barker, thanking him for the loan of Daniel McDonald. "Make it flowery, praising Daniel for the way he finished the Collingsworth space on time and within budget. Copy Daniel, otherwise he may never hear that his work is appreciated," I said. Wanda repeated the word 'flowery, ' and I promised to call her the next day.
I was hungry, but I put off having something to eat until after I spoke to Sandra Lynch. I had nothing positive to tell her. Without the approval of the members of the trust, I had no authority to negotiate. I told her I would be in touch the following week, and could tell that she wasn't pleased to hear the news. However, she recovered quickly and got in a parting shot.
"I hope you know that your company is not the only interested party."
"You'll be sure to tell me if you have other appointments, won't you, Sandra? I don't want to make the trip if you're going to be too busy to meet with me."
"No, no, I didn't mean it that way; at least I don't have any definite appointments."
"Good, I'll be in touch," I said, saying goodbye before she could respond.
I could have ordered room service, but I had a yearning to be among others as I filled the void in my stomach. The dining room was practically empty, so I opted for the bar where people were beginning to filter in from the nearby offices. I grabbed a table for two and ordered a hamburger and a beer.
While waiting for my order, I became intrigued with the interaction among patrons at the bar. Two girls were being pursued by a couple of guys. Watching them made me wish I could read lips. From the looks of things, the guys were striking out.
The scene at the bar reminded me of the night back in Pontiac when I introduced Kent and Skip to Amy and Laura. When I left them I was thinking that Kent and Laura were compatible and that Skip and Amy were meant for each other. When I returned, the two couples had not only gotten acquainted, they had paired off, but not the way I had envisioned. I'd made the same mistake the couples at the bar were making.
After three years together, Skip and Laura were planning a June wedding, and from what I'd heard, Kent and Amy were making similar plans.
My hamburger arrived and I ordered a second beer. More customers were arriving, but my attention was still drawn to the two couples. It was obvious to me that the petite brunette was interested in the tall guy who was chatting up her friend. She was ignoring the shorter guy to her left, while leaning forward to listen to the taller one try to impress the redhead. Why did guys invariably use their height as a compatibility barometer?
Couldn't the two couples see that they were mismatched? I was tempted to step forward and suggest that the guys switch places. Instead, I finished my burger, signed the check, and went back upstairs to my room.
I didn't expect Cynthia to be home yet, but I was surprised when Daisy answered the phone.
"Aunt Margaret and Uncle Robert are out," she reported.
"That's fine; I only need to leave a message for Margaret. We'll be having two guests for lunch on Saturday, and I've invited four people to join us for dinner on Sunday. Please tell Margaret that I'll speak to her about the meals she plans to serve when I get home on Friday night."
Daisy assured me that she'd made a note for Margaret, and when she asked if there was anything else, I told her that I'd be calling back to speak with Mrs. Collingsworth at six-thirty.
I was tempted to tell Daisy to urge Cynthia to eat a filling dinner, but I decided against putting the maid in a difficult situation. It was my job to encourage Cynthia to eat her fill.
With the hour difference in time zones, I only had to busy myself for a few minutes before making the call. After we filled each other in on our day, I told her it was time to go over Tom's memos. She groaned, like there were more important things to discuss. I insisted, and we eventually discussed, how best to respond to Tom's pleas for her to become more involved in assigning workloads and making recommendations regarding how to prioritize customer orders.
Answering Tom's memos always required a series of questions because I didn't know very much about their business, such as the skill level of the other cutters or which orders were the most profitable. Cynthia's response regarding the other cutters was generally not good. Her feelings about them were that they were generally lacking in capabilities, and her attitude toward profitability was that she really didn't care. The daily sessions were difficult enough when we were face to face; by phone, it was nearly impossible to get a clear answer to my questions.
After we muddled through the memos with less than satisfactory results, I decided to have a word with Tom. What did he expect of me? He knew that Cynthia was not cut out for managerial duties. She only wanted to work on her own, without interruption.
"Are you looking forward to Friday night, Darling?"
This was when I should have asked her what she was having for dinner, if it smelled enticing and if she was hungry. Instead, I played along with her desire to fantasize about our plans to role play.
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."
It's time you learned the ways of the world and I'm offering my services to be your tutor."
"I'm not sure I'm ready to learn about the ways of the world. Just thinking about it makes me nervous."
"There's no need for you to be nervous," she said, beginning to sound annoyed with my lack of eagerness to take advantage of her offer.
"This is all new to me. What if I make a mistake?"
"Don't worry, Darling. I'll guide you."
"You'll guide me? We are talking about the same thing, aren't we?"
"Yes, we're going to have sex."
"Together?"
"Of course, doesn't that appeal to you? I thought sex was all young boys think about."
"I guess I'm just ... why do you want to have sex with me, Mrs. Collingsworth?"
There was a pause before she answered. "It's my pledge to teach you, Darling."
"I know how it works, Mrs. Collingsworth. I've read a book."
"This will be ... more ... practical experience. You may want to call it 'hands on, '" Cynthia said, letting frustration creep into her voice. Why was she so intent on explaining how she wanted our little game to be played? Was it to spice up our sexual activity? I usually dictated what we would do and when we would do it. She never voiced a complaint or hesitated to follow my lead. Could it be that she wanted to take control for a change? I decided that must be the case.
Well, I wasn't opposed to her taking control, but she was going to have to earn the right.
"By 'hands on, ' do you mean you will let me see you naked?"
"Exactly," she said in a cryptic way that made me think she was trying to catch her breath.
"And ... by 'hands on, ' does that mean you will let me touch you?"
"Precisely, Darling, you'll be able to see me and touch me. Does that appeal to you?"
"I don't understand why you're so willing to let me touch you. Does that mean you'll let me lick your most private place?"
"Please refer to my most private place as my pussy. Yes, licking my pussy is a required part of your training."
"That's very nice of you, Mrs. Collingsworth."
"I'll expect you to also permit me to suck your most private area. We'll call it giving you a blowjob."
"Hmmm, I've heard of blowjobs. Are you sure you don't mind taking my cock in you mouth?"
There was no response to my question, making me suspect that Cynthia was becoming perturbed by the immature way I'd chosen to depict my character. "We'll discuss this further tomorrow," she said, abruptly ending the call.
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