Anne, I am ready for Mrs. Abbott now if you please."
I really love my job for the most part. I am responsible for the selection committee for graduate studies at a large Mid-western public university.
Admissions is highly competitive, but this was a first for me.
We have the phenomenon of "helicopter parents." But that usually ends in the second year of college when the student asserts some individuality.
We will just see how this turns out.
"Oh, hello, Mrs. Abbott, do have a seat please."
"Now just to what do I owe the honor of your visit?"
She is an early 40's "first wife" trying to hold on to her youth and family, over eager and impressed with her familial wealth.
Not overly dressed for the occasion, but perhaps just a bit too much showy jewelry.
I have a similar diamond bracelet I acquired in Italy.
A day dress by Balenciaga, and purse and shoes by Gucci.
She paused only for a scant millisecond to look me over when I rose to offer her a seat at the small round table I prefer for these meetings.
I am certain she was disappointed to see I was at least at a work a day level equal in clothing.
My one vanity was Quai D'Orsay leather pumps, which she recognized immediately.
I am paid well, and wealth does not impress me.
She was here to apply pressure to have her daughter admitted to the Mathematics program.
We have an exceptional program and admission is highly competitive.
Naturally, I had the admission package, endorsements, etc and had read them over carefully before admitting Mrs. Abbott.
The usual blather about how her daughter, yadda yadda yadda, etc, and so forth.
Finally I lifted my hand to stop her from hyperventilating after she said the five words I most dislike to hear.
"I will do anything."
"I will do anything to see Gretchen is admitted. Anything. A small endowment? Perhaps something more...personal?"
"A new automobile? Or perhaps some home furnishings. I see you have an eye for jewelry." She said in a measured tone as someone accustomed to having her way.
"Thank you, but I have a very nice Mercedes-Benz SL-550," I said icily.
"I do have a question for you, Mrs. Abbott." I said
"Whose idea was it for you to intercede in your daughter's behalf? Your's, or her's?"
"Mine, of course. Gretchen has her head filled with numbers and formulae in such a way that nothing practical seems to affect her. She wants to play with mathematics instead of finding a husband, and I want what she wants. At least for now.
"She has no idea I came to see you or her advisor who sent me to you," Mrs. Abbott said quite calmly.
"And...you 'will do anything' to give her that?" I asked in a cold voice.
"Anything," was her reply.
I surprised her with my next statement.
"Spend the weekend with me.
"I have a quiet cabin about two hours from town and think some company of a woman willing to 'do anything' would make for a perfect respite," that spoken with just a hint of threat.
"Bribery is a crime, Mrs. Abbott. Or hadn't you known that?"
"So is extortion," she quietly replied.
I shrugged.
"Regardless, I am willing to nearly guarantee Gretchen's acceptance to the Mathematics program on my condition."
I wrote the address of my cabin on a sheet of note paper and told her to be there promptly at 6:00PM Friday next.
"Oh, and pack something sexy for dinner on Saturday."
I then rose and ushered her out of my office.
She was speechless, but I knew she would be on time.
Friday I took half day off and had my hair done.
I enjoy a close scissor trim, almost a buzz cut, but feminine.
I have given in to time as well and prefer a platinum blonde dye to the start of gray hairs.
I also spent time shopping for groceries as I never keep much at the cabin.
And a stop at a specialty shop for some things I would need.
Not unexpectedly she was prompt though I could take issue with her appearance.
For outerwear she had on a car coat, and had a scarf tied around her head with round dark glasses. In a way it reminded me of photos of Jackie Kennedy and women of that distant time. She also wore jeans and boots. I supposed that cabin meant "rustic" to her.
She did have a bag with her, as well as a garment bag. I am certain she had thought long and hard, well as hard as such shallow women can, and realized she should at least make the motions.
I greeted her at the door wearing a caftan and slippers.
I also gave her a welcoming open mouthed kiss, just to set reality in place.
She froze momentarily, but I simply turned, appearing not to notice and lead her to my spacious bedroom and showed her where to place her clothing.
"When you have finished come to the living room." I said with a commanding tone.
I sat back in a large club chair, I love the way they enfold one, but also the regal appearance of a sturdy leather enclave.
My legs crossed under the loose material of the caftan I waited for Mrs. Abbott to make her move.
To all appearances I had read her correctly. She was insecure, and most likely submissive.
Oh, not in a craven whimpering nothing way, but she had a real need to be taken care of, in any manner whatever.
"Whatever you have in mind," she started from the bedroom doorway.
When I told her to be quiet she immediately bristled, but stopped talking.
"Now, what shall I call you? Any suggestions?"
"You may continue to call me Mrs. Abbott, and I shall call you a terrible bitch," she retorted.
"No, that will never do. Not at all." I replied.
"I had thought to call you 'pet', but I think that is overdone.
"No, not a pet.
"Well we shall just have to wait to name you."
She was visibly shaken.
I had hit a nerve....ummm, perhaps she had been someone's pet in the past I thought to myself.