The Brass Statuettes Ch 14

Chapter 14-Discovery

Brenda sat in a chair at the round table on Gloria's veranda. Juana had just cleared their lunch dishes. Although the weather was quite pleasant, no one wore their swimsuit under their cropped pants and blouses; no expectation of margaritas poolside in the après-lunch.

To Brenda, Gloria's appearance appeared grim even though she had good news to tell the group—at least, it was good in Brenda's estimation. Gloria had briefed Brenda in advance. Knowledge of the paradox made Brenda feel even more confident. The especially satisfying part was that Brenda understood Gloria's inexplicable mood so well. The others couldn't begin to comprehend the gloom darkening the silver lining, and that understanding meant indispensability.

"The pool party was a total failure," Gloria announced. "All the secretaries left after Trudy and Jeannette stomped out. Not a one volunteered to work for the Foundation."

"I don't think anyone actually asked them," Ashley pointed out. "They left while you were inside."

Brenda winced as Ashley spoke. Experience taught her that blame must be meted out correctly; and correctness and alignment with facts weren't always the same thing. "What would you have expected," Brenda scolded the lesser-experienced member of the group. "It was clear that everything was going bad when Trudy broke up the party. Of course, she led Jeannette out with her."

"Of course," Ashley agreed, "It was Trudy and Jeannette's fault."

"No, just Trudy's," Brenda corrected. "Jeannette's just a secretary. She had to follow her out; she was lucky to get a chance to be here in the first place." The wrong had been righted.

"I didn't know that Trudy can't take a joke," Ashley said. "If I had known..."

"It's Trudy's fault," Gloria interrupted, stifling the apology. "And it was my fault for trusting her. She fooled me with that performance at the Sunrise School. I should have seen through it. She was trying to worm her way in and take over."

"She could never fill your shoes, Gloria. She was a fool to even think she could," Brenda added.

"Her thinking is middle-class. I thought we could change that. I should never have let her get so close," Gloria said, biting her lip. "We'll have to deal with Trudy. I have an idea I'm working on."

Brenda sat back, smug as she accounted for every detail unfolding as if she had written a script.

Ashley straightened up with a start. "But that means that we don't have Trudy or the secretaries to do the office work for us."

"I took care of that," Gloria assured the group. "I got Alvin to pledge more money from the company so that we can hire our own help. I'm going to a Temp Agency tomorrow to talk it over."

"Owww, that sounds wonderful," Ashley said. "What did you have to do to—or should I say for—Alvin to get him to go for that?" She started giggling as if she knew the answer.

"First I insisted that he order the secretaries to volunteer," Gloria said. "He said 'no'—I knew he would. I told him that he had to make Frank tell Trudy to apologize. He said 'no' to that, too. We fought for a while and then we had our extra money."

"Oh," Ashley mumbled.

"I gave him a nice blowjob later to say 'thank you'," Gloria added, and Ashley's face brightened. "He'll remember it next time."

Brenda basked in self-satisfaction. Things were getting back to normal, and normalcy was a condition that she could manage. She started thinking that perhaps a few drinks would be in order, after all. She started to suggest it, but had a sense that something else wasn't quite right. She turned to the youngest of the quartet, sitting in the chair beside her. "Why are you so quiet, Darlene?"

It was true; Darlene had been silent throughout the whole discussion and lunch before that. Brenda had been noticing it for quite a few minutes. She'd kept silent until then because Gloria was the leader. It was for her to tend to unhappy members of the flock. Brenda realized that Gloria was preoccupied about Trudy and the spoiled party. It was for Gloria to make pronouncements; it was Brenda's job to keep everything in order.

Gloria snapped to attention when Brenda cast attention on Darlene. "Yes, that's true, Darlene," she said "What's the matter; why're you so quiet today?"

"It's Jason," Darlene blurted. Her voice told of tears being held back—but held back they would be. "He's at it again. He wants to find a new job; to be a dean at some university."

Gloria rubbed her chin; Brenda waited for Gloria to say something. Ashley's eyes were dancing, as they did whenever she sensed a chance for fun.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Ashley said out of turn. She sported an impish grin. "It would be such a nice, contented life," she sighed, "sitting barefoot and cross-legged on the lawn discussing the environment; tea and cookies with the grad students' wives; maybe something more interesting with the grad students." She giggled. "The male grad students, of course."

"Ashley," Brenda scolded. "Darlene's serious. Don't rub it in."

"But she's raht," Darlene whined. "That's jus' how it is. Ah did it once 'n' I couldn't hardly bear it. Ah'll nevah go back."

"Oh, my dear," Gloria finally spoke, "that does sound awful."

"An' he wants to move to Upstate New York," she whined, "of all the places." She buried her face in her hands.

"Well, we can't let that happen," Brenda declared. "Why is he doing this now?"

"He says it's because of Frank Bennett," Darlene bleated into her hands. "Jason says that Frank doesn't like 'im; that he's holdin' back money from his research. Yesterday, he lied about Jason to the FBI. He's makin' Jason simply mizrable."

"If it isn't Trudy, then it's Frank," Gloria snorted. She put her arms around the wounded lamb.

Darlene drew hands away from her face. "Ah know—but what am Ah to do?"

"That's easy," Gloria said. "If the problem is Finance, then you've got to talk to Jim Sweeney."

"Jim Sweeney?" Darlene asked. "Do Ah have to?"

"We already discussed this a few days ago," Brenda reminded her.

"I call him Mr. Hands," Ashley snickered.

"Whatever! He's the director with the most influence over corporate finances and the people who run them," Gloria instructed.

"But Ah wouldn't know what to say t' him," Darlene asked in a perplexed tone.

"Just tell him you need a favor," Brenda answered. "Jim's very good at doing favors."

Darlene took a breath to speak, and halted before letting it out. She cocked her head and glanced around at the three faces looking back at her. "Why," she stammered, "why should he do a favor for me?"

"Why, indeed?" Ashley sniffed, and then didn't even try to hide the smirk that had crept across her face.

"You have to do what you must," Gloria mumbled.

Darlene's eyes darted among the group once more. "Ah couldn't," she gasped. "Ah jus' could not do it. Ah've always been true to Jason," she swore, "even before we were married."

"And why couldn't you?" Ashley asked. "Just because you haven't done it before? Is that what you said when you were a virgin? You're not a virgin now, are you?"

"Why...well...back then there was a reason..."

"The stakes are a lot higher now, girl," Ashley sneered. "You don't have to fall in love with him—at least all the way; just barely enough to get him to do you a favor."

Darlene was panting and perspiration gathered above her brow, which she daintily padded away with her napkin. "Ah remembah talkin' 'bout this," she admitted. "It was all 'jus' s'pose' back then. Now it's the real thing. Ah nevah dreamed I..."

"None of us did, honey," Gloria growled. "We all managed."

"Wait, wait—all of you!" Brenda demanded. "Don't scare Darlene like this. You don't have to go to bed with anyone you don't want. Jim likes to have pretty women talk to him in a pretty way, that's all. You just have to flirt with him. Make him think you will sleep with him if he'll only do this one thing for you. Keep leading him on."

"But what if..." Darlene began to ask.

"Just keep leading him on," Brenda repeated. "There'll always be a problem you can make up. Just let him keep thinking 'next time-next time'. Eventually, he'll move on to someone easier."

"But be sure he helps you before he loses interest," Gloria insisted.

"But I've nevah done anythin' like that," Darlene protested. "Ah don't know if I can."

"It'll take a big effort; you've got to keep your wits about you.," Brenda answered. "You've got to be smart and make your plan ahead of time. But, it can be done. He is over seventy, after all."

"It's not hard to be smarter than a man who's horny," Ashley piped up.

"You can do it," Brenda told her "and when it's over, think how you'll feel. You'll have taken your whole life in your own hands. You'll have made a man do your bidding—on your terms. Do you want to be controlled—or in control?"

"And Jason will be here to stay," Gloria said. "You won't have to worry about those ivy-covered college halls."

"Or the snow in Upstate New York," Ashley added. "It's for Jason's good, too—in the long-run."

"And don't worry," Brenda assured her. "Whatever happens, it'll be strictly secret among the four of us."

"As usual," Gloria confirmed.

Darlene patted her brow again. Further words were needless; her friends' expectations were clearly stated. "Ah don't even know the man," she pointed out.

"I do," Gloria said. "I'll arrange everything."

*************

It was a three-hour drive to San Antonio on I-10 and that gave Darlene a chance to think about what she was doing. Gloria had told her not to think about it too much, and she tried to do as Gloria said.

She had stopped to see Gloria as she drove out of town, and that scene played through her memory, too. She modeled the black dress she planned to wear when she would meet with Sweeney. It was sleeveless and cut low enough to show a reasonable amount of cleavage—more, if an interested man were willing to crane his neck a little to take in more than his share, and more, yet, if the wearer so desired.

"Do y'all think Ah should wear the pearls, too?"

Gloria shrugged. "Take 'em along with you and decide at the last minute." Brenda was there, also, and she agreed with the strategy.

Darlene didn't wear her dress all the way to San Antonio, of course. She had it neatly packed in an overnight bag. She had a hotel room reserved where she could shower and change. It was the same hotel where Sweeney was scheduled to give a speech to the Petroleum Society that evening. Gloria booked the room for her.

Gloria arranged everything. She found out when Jim would be out of town and where he would be and if Mrs. Sweeney would be with him. It was often that Jim's wife stayed behind; in their recent, older years Jim was a lot more fun-loving than the Missus.

Gloria told Darlene the story to give Jason in order to be away for a night without him suspecting. She'd even instructed Darlene where to buy the dress that she'd just shown off—at Chez Pierre, of course. "It is a killer dress," Darlene admitted to herself. "When this is over, Ah'll wear it for Jason. He'll like it."

"Just remember," Brenda reminded, "keep him expecting; there's no need to do more than that." Darlene reminded herself of that advice over and over.

As each pecan orchard gave way to the next Darlene shook her head, wondering how everything could all have been brought together so easily. It was all going so smoothly. Even Jason had little objection to her going to San Antonio for the overnight trip. She told him that she was going with Gloria—that Gloria and Brenda went all the time, but Brenda couldn't go this time and Gloria didn't drive.

Probably, Jason thought the trip with Gloria would cheer her up. Darlene's embargo on sex was still in effect—in the late afternoon, or any other time. "Ah made that crystal clear to him." There hadn't been any since the aborted late afternoon tryst, and there would be none until Jason gave up his silly notion of returning to academia. The last time she'd allowed him to see her—really see all of her—was when she dropped her silk robe at the bathroom door. She disappeared into the sanctum for the longest time while he lay flaccid on the bed. He finally gave up and went downstairs. She was asleep when he came back up, so he had no idea how long she was locked in there.

This little adventure would fix everything. Sure, it was dangerous. Jason would certainly not approve if he knew about it. In the end, there'd be no harm done and everything would be fixed. Then, she and Jason could have sex again and get back to normal life.

As she passed Seguin she smiled because it was starting to make a lot of sense and she knew she was getting close to her destination. Her confidence began rising. "Ah was First Alternate Miss Georgia—and that was not too long ago." Whatever she lacked in experience, she made up in natural talent. Jason always thought a lot of her talent.

In no time, through her own device and of her friends, she arrived. She handed her keys to the boy at valet parking and went in checked into the hotel.

****************

Darlene arrived early. It was that in-between time of day—too early for dinner, too late for almost everything else. She wouldn't see Sweeney until at least nine that evening. Her room overlooked the river six floors below. She thought about taking a stroll around the River Walk. "Too touristy," she told herself. She had enjoyed the endless strip of bistros and cafes when she came with Jason a number of times. In fact, she would have gone if she had an escort. Walking alone was not to her taste. "People might get the wrong idea," she reminded herself.

So, she decided to stay in her room. She thought about Brenda and Ashley sitting with her mentor, Gloria, at the pool right about this time. Gloria would be summoning a pitcher of margaritas from Juana. There was no need for her to miss out. A little relaxer would be just right after that three-hour drive. She looked into the room's service bar—no margarita mix. She disliked brown spirits and she certainly wasn't going to drink a beer with a slinky dress to wedge herself into later; and wine didn't seem to be relaxer enough.

"Room service, please," she spoke into the phone. She waited for someone to pick up the phone. "Should Ah get something with it?" she asked herself as she waited. "No, Ah don't think so. A'll just have a margarita.

A voice came on the line. "Room 622," she announced, "would you send me up a margarita raht away?" She was about to hang up the phone and a sudden thought hit her. "Wait—wait!" she cried. The voice on the line hadn't hung up yet. "Make that two margaritas," she corrected. She set down the phone receiver and congratulated herself on her quick thinking. "Can't let the waiter think Ah'm drinkin' alone in mah lonely room."

Everything was going so well—the arrangements, the story for Jason, the quick thinking on the phone. She felt like she was playing on a new field—a higher level than usual. She trembled a little at the feeling of newness and adventure. She realized that nervousness and excitement were no different from each other, and that gave her leave to like both of them. She hadn't felt the way she did since she glided down the runway at the Miss Georgia pageant when she was just a junior in college. "Ah'm a long way from l'il ol' Emory," she thought. She had just barely earned her degree at that school, but the diploma she was about to wrap her hands around would prove a lot more useful.

"The way things are goin', Ah should have Mr. Jim Sweeney eatin' outta mahl'il hand in no time. He'll give me jus' what Ah want." And, if she asked just the right way, she'd be obligated for little in return, she added as an afterthought.

She was sitting in an overstuffed chair, contemplating the time on her hands and the best way to enjoy her margaritas. "A soak in th' tub!" She searched inside her overnight bag and pulled out a small bottle of viscous liquid. She dumped a quantity in the empty bathtub and turned on the hot water. "Ah've got such a naughty idea!" She kicked off her shoes and began unbuttoning her blouse. Steam began rising from the water, carrying the scent of the bubble potion throughout the hotel room. A mountain of suds was forming where the hot water poured into the tub.

Soon Darlene was nude. She stood before the full-length mirror mounted just outside the bathroom. "Not bad—if Ah do say so, mahself," she cooed out loud. "An' Ah certainly do say so." She admired herself, first face-on and then in profile. She knew perfection when she saw it. She pivoted once more and swiveled her neck around to take a look at her round and smooth derriere, which she thought of as her best feature of all. "One last thing." She pulled off the hair band and let her tresses hang free. She looked in the mirror and thought she beheld a wild-child. The image of her nude body looked back at her from the mirror. The pampered, nubile wife was absent; saw only a temptress. She liked it.

"Room service should be here any minute." She groped in her luggage again and pulled out the silk robe that she had carefully packed. It was the same one she's used to arouse her spouse not many days before. She unfolded it and felt the fabric caress her as it glided onto her body. She returned to the mirror. How to close the robe, yet leave it almost open? She tied the sash, pulled open the collar, experimented. She finally got it just how she wanted it. She stood still near the door because she thought if she moved around she would have to arrange it all over again—and then there might not be time.

"Room Service!" barked a voice outside her door and a sharp knock followed. Darlene didn't answer, so that the servant outside wouldn't know that she was standing just in front of the door. She put her eye to the peephole. There, in a hotel uniform stood a young black man patiently holding a tray with two frothy green drinks at his shoulder with one hand and a slip of paper in the other

"Room Service!" the young man repeated. Darlene rechecked the positioning of her sash and slowly opened the door.

"Hi, y'all," she drawled at the youth. "Come on in."

"Room service, ma'am," he repeated. "Two margaritas." Darlene stayed at the door.

He slipped past her and entered the room. He said nothing, but Darlene watched him glance around, presumably searching for the beneficiary of the second margarita. His eyes went to the partly-open bathroom door from which scented steam poured out. Darlene approached him.

"Just set them on the table, if you please." Darlene was careful to get closer to him, but not too close and he did what she hoped, which was to fix his gaze onto her lavender silk robe with the painted orchids. There was enough skin showing to let him know that she was nude underneath, but he couldn't quite see past the cloth to her breasts. And, while a smooth thigh asserted itself outside the confines of the robe, Darlene made certain that was all he could see—"with his eyes, at least."

"Ah just love margaritas," she drawled slowly at him. She paused to let him wonder what she might say next. "Do y'all like them, too?"

"Well, yes—yes I do," the young man answered, unable to hide a wide, expectant grin. He glanced toward the bathroom door and quickly back at her

She looked right at him, with her eyes half-closed. "They're so...so relaxin'." She closed her eyes and let her tongue linger on her lips for a moment or two after she finished speaking.

"Uh...yeah..." he started to say, but was distracted by Darlene grabbing the invoice from his hand. She bent over the coffee table to sign the check. She let the collar of her robe fall open and she was sure that her target was getting a view at what she wanted him to see.

She stood back up. "You should try one sometime," she cooed and handed him the signed guest check. The optimism vanished from the lad's face. He paused a second, as if not believing the invitation which a moment ago seemed so imminent, was only a mirage.. "Did Ah forget somethin'" Darlene asked, with her eyebrows raised. She drew up the sash tighter, dousing any trace of possibility. The waiter shook his head. He glanced to see if she'd given him a tip. She did and in less than a moment he turned and left the room