Harry's Protégé

Harry's elderly but wiry and astonishing strong doctor hauled a disbelieving Harry out of bed. When Harry's legs almost gave out on him, he agreed to stay in bed until Saturday, with a probable return to work on Monday.

"It's a virus laddie and there's little we can do about it. It just has to take its course," Doc Macdonald said with his persuasive tongue. "Now from memory you stock Scotch; don't disappoint me laddie."

"You'll find a selection in the living room cabinet Dr McIntosh.

Harry deduced the only advantage of this illness was Sierra had the opportunity to show her father she had at least a little of what it takes to run the newspaper operation, which was entirely separate from commercial printing activities and other publishing wings of the enterprise.

The Sentinel was the company flagship and the best profit center after commercial printing.

During the afternoon Harry called an old acquaintance. He'd had an affair with her when her husband was overseas on a United Nations posting for a year. It had been Harry's only adulterous affair to his knowledge, as he occasionally reminded himself when vowing never to do it again.

"Pru, it's Sebbi O'Hern (his middle name was Sebastian).

"Well, well it's my beautiful tall darling in from the cold."

Incorrectly why he was calling the highly respected litigation attorney said, "While Himself is living at home at the moment I have to say I've really become too refined these days to indulge in that sort of thing you'll have in mind," she giggled.

"That applied to me too," he chuckled. "Listen, I need a favor - I'm home in bed recovering from the flu and my assistant is in charge. It was she who released that mining disaster story to our readers in this morning's newspaper."

"Your assistant - do you mean Sierra Bycroft?"

"Yes."

"Oh Harry she wouldn't have a clue about litigation dangers if they slipped between her legs."

"I think she's easing back Pru. She's not pregnant to my knowledge but seems to be wearing her reformation conversion that still in progress with a sort of serenity."

"I'd have to see that to believe it Sebbi. If she has an interest in you it's only for your dick. I'm not meaning to be unnecessarily offensive love but really you're way out of her league as socially she's considered very top shelf."

Harry laughed defensively and turned the conversation back to business.

"Pru can you help me, a quick opinion about our vulnerability over that article, if any, to settle my nerves?"

"Yes darling. Give me your number and I'll call back within the hour. Your newspaper should be around here somewhere."

Pru called and gave Harry/Sebbi the relief he wanted, saying in her opinion the article appeared bullet-proof.

"I see money in a couple of instances and with the right Judge my arguments could be productive although any awards would rate as chicken-shit. I think everyone in our legal and political fraternities will be alarmed reading your disclosure that Black Gold International is involved in this and perhaps sinisterly as your article says, as a dodge to get mining done on the cheap because regulators act somewhat light-handedly with small operators."

"I'm picking if any legal action is threatened against your company, it won't make court because if it advanced that far Black Gold International would come under a Government-driven investigation."

"Thanks baby."

"Oooh Sebbi, no one sweet talks to me these days like that. I am pleased to reward you for all that effort you put into me."

They laughed and Harry said he would be sending her a trinket in appreciation. He called to instruct his PA to buy a tasteful single strand 18k gold necklace and paying no more than $1200, giving her the address of Prudence White, of Goldstein, Lacoboni, White, Attorneys at Law.

Liz the PA suggested matinee length and Harry agreed, having confidence in the knowledge and good taste of his assistant who was forty, a couple of years younger than the recipient. England-born Prudence White was a dear younger friend of his mother's. Harry had run into her - if you can call it that - during his final year at university.

At 5:30 Harry climbed into the shower, still feeling weak but improving, shaved and brushed his hair and applied an after-shave gifted by his mother called 'It's Irresistible Darling'. It wasn't Christmas or his birthday so he assumed it was a gift to his father that his mother deemed an inappropriately named product for her husband. Where that placed Harry in her esteem remained unclear.

Smiling, he drizzled some on to his chest and it soaked into his t-shirt when he put that on.

Harry attempted to sprawl in a tragic pose when he heard 'the girls' arriving late at 6:20.

"Oh look at the poor darling," Jenni said, sounding as she was almost sobbing.

While she rushed forward, Sierra hung back.

"Your face mask - where's your face mask," Harry said 'weakly', but Jenni said fuck the face mask and rained kisses on his brow while resting one hand on his belly, which Harry assumed would not have gone unnoticed by her girlfriend standing nearby.

Well was that classy or competitive? Harry wondered as Jenni stepped aside and he braced himself in case Sierra flew at him to out-do Jenni.

"Hi Harry, I'll go out and find a vase for these flowers," Sierra smiled.

"Don't I rate a kiss?"

He was appalled his tone sounded almost like a whine.

"Oh, I didn't think you were interested."

At that he clamped his teeth into his tongue to prevent a reply, knowing whatever he said would please no one. Fortunately his hound dog look came bounding to his face.

"You are so cute looking like that. You deserve a reward."

"Not on the lips," he croaked gallantly.

She moved queenly forward and dropped a delicate kiss under his chin, then almost spoilt the magic of the moment by yelling, "Holly shit, what have you splashed yourself with - it ought to be a banned substance?"

She leaned forward again and licked his neck.

Harry was horrified; what if flu germs were splattered down there, awaiting their next victim?

"What is it?" Jenni said excitedly, pushing in.

"His cologne, it's..."

"Yuk," Jenni said, snorting over Harry's neck. "It reminds me of old dishwater."

Well, what a defining moment, Harry decided. That indicated a possible significant difference between then apart from height, weight, boob size, butts, hair color, personality, lips and - yeah, that will do. Their sexuality was different!

That really interested him because the label on the after-shave bottle, shaped more like a quality jam jar rather than a piece of exotically designed glassware, read:

Danger.

This fragrance can severely turn off a certain class of female yearning for Romance.

Harry's intellect had screamed 'Bullshit' at the time he read it but in his heart he was now prepared to believe. Of all the women he knew - and that not being restricted to carnally - only three he could say with conviction needed to heed that danger warning - his mother, Pru and Sierra.

"Are you all right darling, you appear transfixed?" Nurse Jenni worried.

Harry blinked and shook his head clear.

"Yes I'm fine but why are you two wearing overcoats. It's been a hot day?"

Jenni nodded to Sierra who dropped the flowers on to the bed and walked backwards to stand alongside Jenni, also unbuttoning her coat. Jenni nodded again and they both shouted "La-de-da-dah!" and threw open their coats, revealing they were dressed in nurses uniforms, purchased obviously from a sex shop, and digging into their coat pockets pulled out cute nurses' hats screen-printed with a big red cross.

Danger, Handle with Care Toxic Bodies, Hazards Ahead

signs flashed before Harry's eyes and he went stiff as a board, his penis also. He pleaded silently looking at them horrified: Don't do this to me, not to a red-blooded, bed-bound guy.

"A bed bath do you think Nurse Sierra?"

"Oh for sure. I'll fetch your bed shorts Harry."

"No it's not necessary; I've just showered," Harry croaked.

"But wearing shorts won't be to regulation standards, nor will your shower," Nurse Jenni growled.

Harry pulled the sheet over his head and clipped My Best Friend over the head sharply and gratefully felt him return to normal flaccid state.

Half an hour later the bed bath was over, the women having a wonderful time with the partly terrified Harry relieved that his anxiety kept My Best Friend dormant - miraculously even when being sponged and handled to dry.

"Isn't she awful - she put me up to this," Sierra said, attempting to look innocent. Jenni had left the room to order pizzas with salads.

Sierra went to his dresser and found a pair of silk bed shorts his mother had given him, blue and overprinted with red roses.

"These are sweet," she said, holding them against herself which made her appear almost dressed, as the hems of their uniforms only just covered her thong which was narrower than the straps holding up the white stockings.

Sierra found a dressing gown in the wardrobe and said, "Stand up please Mr O'Hern. I'll dress you and you may join us at the table for dinner."

Caught by surprise Harry stepped off the bed but was unable to control My Best Friend.

Sierra just smiled as My Best Friend rose to greet her. As she helped with the change of shorts she held the erection against his belly as she pulled up the rose patterned shorts, smiling gently.

Harry concluded she'd behaved magnificently and fancied he'd seen a glimmer of interest but at this moment he would prefer her interest in him being intellectual.

They had wine with dinner and performed as a really happy trio.

"When do you think you'll be running again Harry?" Nurse Jenni asked.

"Monday week. Will you be joining me?"

"After that invitation, how could I refuse," she smiled, and glancing at Nurse Sierra added, "I'll bring a surprise with me."

Nurse Jenni said she must go and urged Sierra to stay and look after their patient.

Harry smiled at her not attempting to conceal his admiration for her being so considerate and Jenni flushed. He thanked her and kissed between her breasts then buttoned up her coat, thanking her for organizing a very innovative evening.

"The costumes were Sierra's idea."

Well, well, he thought just as Sierra joined them.

"Come on you, back to bed and I'll make coffee."

As they finished their coffee Harry invited Sierra to stay the night.

"Okay but I think you should keep calm and so no..."

"Agreed - get in with me head to tail so I can look at your lovely face. Keep all your clothes on if you wish."

Sierra didn't answer and went and showered and reappeared, dressed only in her thong which outlined her vulva in a most erotic way.

Harry averted his gaze to the ceiling.

Sierra snuggled into her end of the bed, draping the sheet just short of her chin after propping up on a second pillow and announced, "This is cozy. Shoot."

"I sense that your interest in me to exploit my knowledge of business practice and to help overcome your shortcomings in dealing with people with whom you have no real interest, has advanced somewhat."

She covered her embarrassment by asking, "Have you been reading my diary?"

"No but have you been reading mine," he quipped, and watched her face burn and then heard her confession.

Harry listened with a faint smile. He was not dismayed.

When she finished he said he'd thought of encrypting very personal files since she had peer access but then decided he had nothing to hide, quite forgetting about that doodle he'd added at the bottom of one file about wanting to fuck her.

As Sierra thoughts raced, she swept back her hair with both hands. That action dropped the sheet below her breasts, but she made no effort to grab for it. Not only did he apparently not mind her invasion of his private files but calmly accepted she'd read that thing he wanted to do to her. He certainly was no wimp.

Harry broke the silence. "What do you think of my plans?"

"Which one," she colored again, her mind still on that ungentlemanly notation.

"Stage one and I guess what I said about your strengths and weaknesses."

"I didn't realize your assessment of my body has any relationship to my business ascendancy aspirations."

"Nothing is excluded; absolutely nothing and please remember that."

"Okay but I find that hard to believe."

"You are aware when meeting someone face-to-face the first thirty seconds are vital to the establishment of any business or personal relationship?"

"Yes this is why I always appear in public well-groomed and why I have left my make-up on now."

"Ah yes. I'd wondered if that stuff on your face is to hide freckles."

"It does, a few, but not anywhere the number almost joining hands across your face."

"Don't be rude - I love my freckles."

"I must admit I've become used to them and would agree they give your face distinctive character."

"Thank you. No when you first meet a woman ushered into you, what do you look at in those first few seconds?"

"This is dumb."

"No it's not - you should have covered this in your earlier business education. I guess you skipped those classes."

Sierra sighed, "I guess I did and only flew through because I inherited my mother's intelligence."

"And your father's ability to focus on the jugular."

"You know too much. Well, answering the question, I take in her hair and face and probably look to see if she'd one who matches exactly handbag and shoes."

"Is that all in that instant appraisal? What about her breasts - no?"

"I'm not a lesbian if that's what you're thinking."

"It is not. Please answer the question truthfully."

"I guess I do."

"And make comparisons?"

Sierra colored slightly and answered yes, if the woman was around her age but asked what did that prove?

"Only just how important that first impression is and the person assessing you, even if the nature of the business concerns the purchase of a shipment of cat food."

"Cat food?"

"Yes cat food. Did you think I'd say bras?"

"No but you could have picked something a bit more up-market."

"What's the point of that? This raises a point we have to work on - your view of the world around you is out of kilter, possibly alarmingly so, and I know your father is aware of that because while he may lack your mother's intelligence he is an astute, worldly businessman whom I admire for his skills and awareness."

"That's why I was dropped into the chair as editor-in-chief and not you and that's why he convinced the board to downgrade to the old term editor-in-chief until I'd proved my ability to take the executive editor title. He would have done that to appease directors who thought I was too young for the chair."

"He's been talking to you about me and this is what this is all about, isn't it?"

"Grooming you, yes I admit to that although we had discussed that and the reason for it on a couple of earlier occasions."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes and you don't need to know why. You need to know how so keep your mind on the ball."

"Fuck you Mr Superior Editor," Sierra said, bursting into tears. "I was beginning to accept you as my first male confidant ever, and you've shafted me - your only interest in me is working as an agent of my father. For money I suppose."

She jumped out of bed, grabbed her coat and costume and left the room.

* * *

Harry had the ability of seeing the big picture; Sierra didn't mainly because she never bothered to raise her eyes and mind.

Harry reasoned it was better she departed upset and hating him than he jumping out of bed and have his comforting arms shrugged aside and they argue, achieving nothing. By stalking off in a paddy she'd cool down and hopefully examine the problem and his involvement and rationalize it.

He knew that approach would anger Sierra more because he hadn't moved to comfort her, so now he'd be the heartless bastard. But that's what he did, believing it the most appropriate action irrespective of what fickle emotionally-driven thoughts were raging through her head.

The door slammed. He sighed and turned out the lights and went to sleep, unhappy.

More Coming