Β© Ribnitin 2021
If I think of a good idea, I'll write a sequel to this story. If you enjoy it, add me to your list of favorite authors and you'll be notified when and if the next part comes out.
To all the vicious anonymous commentators, dig in. For the rest of you, enjoy. This story and the characters therein are completely fictional.
I turned off location on my phone, powered it down, stuck it in my purse and then buckled my seat belt. The plane was half empty, so I had room to get comfortable for the two-hour flight. When we reached cruising altitude, I lowered the window shade, closed my eyes, and daydreamed. Scott Pierce was a successful businessman who employed hundreds of people. I'd gone too long without him, and he insisted I had to come now. He was medium height, slim and handsome. His ice blue eyes set off his coal-black wavy hair, his aquiline nose. His smile had melted girls hearts all the way through high school, mine included.
I was happily married with two young children, working as a freelance business consultant. My husband and I were both well respected: well off, with plenty of close friends and family. There was no major turbulence in my life, and none whatsoever on the flight. I woke up and shuddered with anticipation when the crew announced "place seatbacks and tray tables in the upright position." I had been daydreaming of the time Scott took my virginity. Back then I had been frightened by the size of his equipment. Losing my cherry had been painful but exciting, and reliving it in my mind had made me horny. Soon, soon... The half-empty plane meant it wouldn't take too long to get out.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it appears there's been some confusion about our gate assignment at the terminal. There's going to be a brief pause while we wait for the gate to open up. We apologize for the delay."
If I'd been allowed to stand I'd have been hopping back and forth from one foot to the other with impatience to run into Scott's arms. Also, because I had to pee. After ten minutes on the tarmac our flight finally pulled up to the gate, actually five minutes ahead of schedule. I knew Scott would be anxiously waiting for me in the terminal. I hadn't checked any bags, so once I pulled down my carry-on I was ready to run.
And run I did, till I found the washroom. It wasn't a big airport, but the layout was confusing and the signs misleading. My nether regions had to struggle with my bladder as well as the lingering horniness from my daydream. I sighed as I found relief from the former. Scott would soon take care of the latter. I rushed past the baggage pickup to arrivals. I had on a canary-yellow dress so I'd be easy to spot.
No Scott in sight. I headed for the staircase, figuring that climbing a few steps would give me a better perspective. At five foot nine, he didn't stand out in a crowd.
I looked around. The terminal wasn't too crowded, but I couldn't see him. Was Scott waiting outside? We had arranged to meet in the arrivals lobby. At this point the glow of anticipation was being displaced by the chill of annoyance. I went outside; still no Scott in sight.
Something must have happened. I turned on my phone. Aha! A text message: "Sorry, business problem delays. Meet me 5:30 pm Napoli restaurant, 17
th
& Main."
I was pissed. After our time apart and with all his money, Scott should have somehow been able to make it to the airport. The restaurant was about thirty minutes away and it was ten after five. I grabbed a taxi. Thirty-five minutes later I paid the taxi fare as I watched Scott climb out of a grey Honda and enter the restaurant. My desire battled with my sense of annoyance. Not only did he fail to pick me up, but he was also a quarter of an hour late for the meeting he set up.
Scott was gorgeous, as always. My heart beat harder as I followed him towards a booth near a window. In the back of my mind I was surprised. I expected he would take me somewhere elegant, rather than a middle-of-the-road Italian diner. He sat down, moving over to the window to watch for me. I slid in beside him, grabbed his cheeks, then pulled his lips against mine. It took him a couple of seconds to realize what was going on. He then wrapped his arms around me, shoving his tongue into my mouth. We stayed that way, my eyes closed; I don't know for how long. God, I had missed him.
"Scott..." I practically moaned his name as he caressed my thigh.
"Allison..."
Had Scott's voice changed? Why did it seem so far when his mouth was so close to mine?
"Allison Harmon, it's so nice to see you."
I opened an eye and looked across the table. A somewhat older couple had quietly slid on to the bench across from us. I let go of Scott and scooted away from him on the seat.
"Reverend White! Um, what a surprise to see you."
"Likewise, I'm surprised to see you here... like this." He turned towards Scott. "Mr. Pierce, you're... Never mind."
"Mrs. White, how are you?"
"I'm not feeling great at the moment. Disturbing things are happening." Carla White gave her head a little shake. "Don't worry; the Reverend and I will deal with them."
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Though the restaurant was pleasantly cool Scott had a light sheen of perspiration on his face. Reverend White pulled out his phone, and appeared to be scrolling through contacts, looking for a number. He found it and pressed 'call.' I began to tremble.
"David, Reverend Mark White here. I thought of you this afternoon and decided to say hello...
"Yes, it's been a while. How many years ago did you move out?...
"How long is it since I officiated at your wedding?...
"Six years? How is your wife, um, Allison these days? I heard you have a couple of little ones...
"She's in Los Angeles? Does she travel a lot for work?...
"You must miss her terribly. It must be hard with the young children."
Scott mouthed "excuse me" to the Reverend and his wife and started to rise. Mrs. White mouthed "SIT!" to him. I don't know how she got so much authority into a voiceless statement, but Scott complied like an obedient dog. I was too stunned to let him out, anyways.
"Is that so? David, I'm proud of you, but not surprised. I always knew you'd do well, firstly in your choice of wife, and then in your career. Vice President of Acquisitions sounds like an important position...
Mrs. White glared at me as her husband uttered the word "wife."
"Things aren't going so well in town. A major employer is in Chapter Seven and looks like it's going to be shut down. Over six hundred people have been laid off. They can't get any of the severance or salary that they're owed..." The company pension fund was mismanaged. We've started a collection to help them out. Would you be offended if I asked you for a contribution?...
"Yes, Chapter Seven, liquidation of the assets, not Chapter Eleven...
"Yes, it's Darcy Pierce Industries. There were some serious deficiencies on a recent government contract which the company tried to cover up. It's lost most of its customers, and can't fulfill the few orders that remain...
"What can I say? The son doesn't have either the skills or the motivation of his father. A lot of people are suffering as a consequence."
Scott was now a bright shade of red.
"Twenty thousand dollars would go a long way towards easing the suffering of your former neighbors, David. That's very kind of you. It would be wonderful if you get your employer to match that."
The Reverend's nose wrinkled as he concentrated on what my husband was telling him. He looked at Scott, shaking his head in apparent disgust. He looked at me, a neutral expression on his face.
"No, Scott Pierce isn't the person to deal with. The company's in the hands of a... I'm not sure what you call him: an administrator or trustee, maybe. Let me dig up the contact information and I'll text it to you shortly...
"No white knight has shown up. I'm afraid that our town's mystery billionaire is just a local legend. As far as I know your company; what did you say the name is?...
"Yes, Vestry Capital would be the first to show a serious interest...
"Yes, wonderful talking to you too, David. Give my regards to your lovely wife. And please, the two of you should visit your old hometown more often. I know your folks live in Florida, but there are a lot of people here who remember the two of you fondly...
"Yes, I imagine that if you buy Pierce you'll be visiting a lot more often."
Scott flinched. He looked both angry and nauseous.
"Bye David. Hope to see you and the missus soon." Reverend White terminated the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Carla White had been my English, arithmetic, and art teacher in grade six. She also tried to teach us moral responsibility, though that wasn't part of the official curriculum. She reached across the table and took my hands in hers. "Allison, Allison..." was all she said.
I was no longer a pre-teen, cowering before authority. "Carla, Carla..." The silence that followed was only broken by the waitress coming to take our orders. I should have cowered.
"Oh, we've already ordered," the Reverend said, pointing to a booth on the opposite wall. Another older couple was there, engaged in an animated discussion, occasionally glancing at us.
"What will you have?" She looked at Scott and me. "Pasta Primavera and baked red snapper are our specials today."
I looked at Carla White, I looked at Scott. "Um, I'll have the pasta."
"Same," Scott muttered.
"I'll leave you to your dinner." Reverend and Mrs. White rose from their seats. "We can't abandon our friends completely, you know."
The Reverend's face looked like he was smiling, but given what he caught me doing, it should have been a sneer. "Yes, of course. Enjoy your dinner."
"We'll try."
I scooted off the bench with Scott and sat myself down opposite him. "Is it true? Is your company really going under?"
There was no mistaking the scowl on Pierce's face. "That's what I want everyone to think. I sold the Lincoln, traded my Lamborghini for a Honda, I'm here instead of my usual high-end restaurant. I can't be seen to be eating cake while the proletariat doesn't even have bread."