Sophia

FOURTEEN

Sophia wandered across the room to lock the door.

'Sometimes the children wake up and come in to see us,' she said to Myška.

'I can go back to my room if you prefer.'

Sophia responded by taking Myška's hand and leading her to the bed.

'Do you need to call anyone?' she asked.

Myška laughed a sweet laugh.

'You mean my flatmate? No, we are not lovers.'

'You called her you "girlfriend", so I kind of assumed. Was that deliberate?'

'Deliberate?'

'To pique my interest, send a signal.' Then after a pause, 'Make me jealous.'

Myška didn't respond at once.

'It's okay. I'm not angry. We all have our stratagems. We must make the best use of the time we've been given on this earth.'

Myška turned to Sophia and kissed her softly on the lips.

'I was afraid you would sack me.'

'What? For pretending to have a partner?'

'No, for coming on to you.'

'Who came on to who?'

'I suggested a massage.'

'I said my back hurt.'

They both laughed and Sophia rolled the younger woman onto her back.

'Time to work

your

kinks out.'

Sophia took the elastic band out of her hair, shook her head so that the tresses framed her face and pushed stray strands away from her eyes. She looked at her new lover for a long time, tracing the outline of her face - her chin, her jawbone, her eyebrows, her forehead and finally her lips - with her fingers. Myška returned her look, drinking the vision in and anticipating the pleasures to come.

'I am in dreamland,' she said.

'We all need our dreams. Sometimes we can dare to make them reality.'

She ran her fingers through Myška's shoulder length brown hair and then down to her breast.

'They are not beautiful like yours.'

'Let me be the judge of that.'

The Czech girl was still wearing her underwear - a boyish style, in grey. Not the type of knickers that scream 'Fuck me!' More the type that say in a level tone, 'I don't need to dress up specially for you because I know you want to fuck me anyway.' Sophia decided that they should stay on for the time being.

Sophia made short circles with her fingers around Myška's breast, checking her face from time to time for signs of arousal. Nothing much yet. On her next circuit, she made a shortcut across her nipple and noticed a tightening of the muscles around her mouth. Was she determined to show no response, Sophia wondered? She was rather intrigued. Did she want to attempt to tease Sophia? If so, she was doing so from a position of considerable weakness. Was this a ploy to get Sophia to tease her until she reached a point like a super-stretched catapult from which she could be propelled into the stratosphere?

Sophia ran her palm lightly across the shallow dome of her nanny's breast, making contact only in fits and starts, like an aircraft's tyres jouncing on a runway. Still no response from Myška, who was maintaining eye contact with Sophia throughout. Sophia's lips creased in a smile, anticipating the changes she was about to bring about in the girl's demeanour. The girl smiled back - determined to play her role, stay in character and ensure that the drama ran uninterrupted through to its final act.

Sophia moved her attention to Myška's other breast, running her fingers from the ribcage up the gentle slope to the bumpy areole. After lingering a moment there, she proceeded to the nipple, which instantly doubled in size. Sophia could sense that the once impregnable fortress was about to be stormed. Myška's rate of breathing increased significantly, her back arched to offer her little mounds to Sophia's mouth and her hands sought out Sophia's tits.

Sophia lowered her face until her lips hovered an inch above their target and directed a stream of air at the nipple's slightly concave surface. Myška raised her chest in a vain attempt to feed her distended pink teat into Sophia's mouth. Sophia waited for what seemed to Myška like an eternity before lowering her mouth and latching onto her bud with her lips. After suckling it with increasing intensity, she started pummelling it with her tongue. There was only one way to go from here. Sophia moved her hand over the girl's stomach and halted at the entrance of her temple. Her mouth still clamped on her nipple, Sophia moved two fingers deep into the Holy of Holies.

'Fuck!' breathed Myška.

Sophia responded by increasing the intensity of her onslaught. The defences had been well and truly breached. With the sentinels disarmed and routed, the citadel and all its treasures lay at her mercy.

'Get on top of me,' said Sophia with an unmistakable tone of authority in her voice. 'Sit on my face. No, I want you with your back to me.'

Myška stepped over Sophia and took up the position she had been bidden to adopt.

'We start here,' said Sophia running her finger around her helper's asshole.

Crouching above Sophia's face, Myška waited for hostilities to recommence. Sophia didn't keep her powder dry for long, making her tongue as taut and narrow as possible so she could gain entry without recourse to her fingers. After a few attempted incursions, her tongue broke through what was admittedly a pretty wretched attempt to mount a defence. The salt tasted good on her tongue as she drove that muscle further inside her lover's dark tunnel. Myška responded by saying something in Czech and fingering Sophia's vulva. Sophia had no intention of handing the initiative over to her children's nanny and removed her hand. Taking the hint, Myška placed her hands on the bed either side of her boss and tried to keep as still as possible. Sophia took her assault to the next level by prising apart the Czech girl's anus with her fingers and bulldozing her way up her alley with her tongue. Driving home her advantage, Sophia plunged two fingers in the girl's slick pussy, pushing them carefully against the membrane separating her two channels. It proved too much for Myška, whose orgasmic cries were loud enough to wake the dead.

'So much for little Ms Central European Control Freak!' Sophia thought.

They lay silently for several minutes, before Myška slipped on the towel that Sophia had never used, left the room and returned a minute or two later with two bottles of Evian.

'Cheers!' she said to Sophia, knocking the plastic bottles together before they unscrewed the tops and took deep draughts of the much needed liquid. 'You give a good massage.'

'You will stay the night in your room?'

'No, I need to get back to Piri. I'll order a taxi.'

'I thought you said she wasn't your girlfriend.'

'Would you have felt so comfortable with me if you had known?'

'Well, no, probably not. But how will you explain getting back at three in the morning?'

'No need to explain. She knows all about it.'

'Knows all about it?'

'Yes. I told her that with your husband being away we would make love tonight.'

'And she was okay with that?'

'She encouraged me. We have a very open relationship.'

'You must do. And there was I thinking I was being the seductress, when all the time I was like a puppet on a string.'

'Are you very upset?'

'No, not really. I guess I have a lot to learn about Sapphic ways.'

'It's a bit of a learning curve, I suppose, especially for someone who's only known guys for most of her life.'

'How do you know that? Is it so obvious?'

'Well, yes, sometimes.'

'Do you have sex with guys at all?'

'No, I'm a gold star lesbian. I have never slept with a man.'

'Wow! And what about Piri?'

'She sometimes craves a cock. But only one-night stands and only fit young guys. She likes the sexual athletes. She likes threesomes too.'

'I see that I'll have to keep you two away from Peter. Is he fit enough?'

'It was you that she mentioned, not him. She's very keen to meet you.'

'My god, you must have given me a good rap.'

'She saw your photo on LinkedIn. She knew she couldn't trust me with you and is holding out for a threesome as recompense.'

Seeing the doubt in Sophia's eyes, she added quickly, 'She's very attractive. Super hot, in fact.'

'Like a paprika, eh? They're from Hungary, aren't they?'

'But you'd have to convert her. She hates English people.'

'Oh my!'

'She says they are fat and ugly and lazy and hypocrites.'

'Fair enough. Sounds as though I am safe then.'

'She says you might be the exception that proves the rule. You'll like her. She's very fiery.'

'Okay, look, you better get back to your girlfriend,' said Sophia. 'You guys certainly have a very open relationship.'

'Life's too short,' replied Myška simply. And giving Sophia a goodnight kiss, she took herself upstairs to sort her things out.

'Oh, the table,' she said, coming back into the room. 'I completely forgot.'

'Don't worry about that. I'll pack it up and pop it back in your room.'

'Děkuji vám!' said Myška with a smile.

'Which means?'

'Thank you. You have just had your first Czech lesson.'

FIFTEEN

When Peter got back from Stockholm, he noticed that his wife was more relaxed about things than normal. When one of the children broke a mug that she particularly liked she shrugged it off with a 'Well, these things will happen' and started using another one. He mentioned that Myška seemed to have changed a bit but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. When Sophia told him that she lived with a woman, he didn't show a lot of interest, contenting himself with a comment to the effect that it was none of his business and that he hoped she was happy. He didn't ask any details about the identity of the nanny's partner.

The difference he had discerned in Myška was one that would have been picked up immediately by a woman and one that was immediately picked up by his wife. Myška had started to wear make-up. Not a lot, but a little eye shadow and a subtle shade of lip gloss. She had also had her eyebrows trimmed and took more care with her clothes. Loose fitting T-shirts made way for tighter fits and she began to wear skirts as well as her normal jeans. Her footwear option of choice was no longer Doc Martens, with sneakers and slip-ons now predominating.

Sophia saw less of her after she started her new job, with Peter typically the one tasked with getting home first to relieve the help. But when she did see her, she was both impressed by the change and stimulated by it. It wasn't that Myška was trying to dress like her or become her, but Sophia was flattered that the nanny was a little in love with her employer. Occasionally, as the weeks rolled by, she would think about the threesome that had been mooted but, even in the context of the enormous changes her life had undergone in the last four of five months it seemed nothing more than a pipe-dream. Each time she passed the nanny's room, she looked at the massage table. Peter had asked her what it was for, apparently having mistaken it for a high-performance yoga mat - whatever one of those might be - and joked with Sophia that perhaps Myška could give him a rub-down one day. 'Not that I'm thinking about any hanky-panky,' he had added quickly, thinking that his wife could still not quite trust him around the hired help.

The Japanese investment bank proved quite an eye-opener for Sophia. The work was not onerous but the hours could be long, especially if the top brass were in from Tokyo. Fewer than half of the staff at head office were ethnic Japanese, with the remainder consisting of people from different European countries, as well as Egyptians and a single American. The majority of the staff was male, with a ratio of around four men to every female. This was a higher proportion than she had been used to in former jobs, with just two department heads beside herself being women. Much of the bank's work involved equity and bond financing for large corporate clients, as well as mergers and acquisitions advisory services. The company had also gained a reputation as a front-runner in the securitisation market, centred around real estate and other financial assets. Additionally, in common with most investment banks, it offered prime brokerage and asset management services through its investment research division.

As chief legal counsel, Sophia needed to ensure that contracts were properly drawn up and due diligence conducted on a continuous basis, as well as for liaising with the managing director's office on compliance-related issues. There were also more local, day-to-day matters that needed to be addressed as well as a conflict resolution role that she shared with the human resources department.

While the Japanese male employees tended to lower their head when she passed them in the corridor, whether deferring to her rank or her beauty, some of the others were much more friendly, especially one of the Egyptians, called Sethos. Diminutive in stature he may have been, but Seth, as everyone called him, had a big heart and was very extrovert. Early in Sophia's time at the bank, he had talked about one of the company's largest personal customers, a distant cousin of his called Abdelrahman, who spent most of his time in Cairo but kept a penthouse suite (naturally) in Knightsbridge (ditto).

One day, as the clock ticked down towards Christmas, Seth knocked on Sophia's office door and after enquiring about her family got down to business, with his prayer beads looped over his fingers, as was his wont.

'I believe I have mentioned to you before my cousin Abdelrahman.'

He paused and Sophia nodded by way of response.

'As you may know, he is a high-net-worth individual of the very first water.'

He paused again and Sophia motioned for him to continue.

'The bank has catered to his investment needs for nigh on 30 years and he will be making a trip to London later this month. In fact, next week.'

Sophia couldn't quite see where this was going, but didn't see it as part of her job description to help junior staff out of their holes.

'Miss Sophia,' Seth continued, adopting his most obsequious tone - quite different from anything she had heard from him before, 'my cousin has instructed me to extend an invitation to you. He would be honoured if you would dine with him in his London accommodation.'

Seth paused and receiving no encouragement from his interlocutor continued his delegated duty.

'It is a very great honour,' continued the Egyptian. 'Very few are the people who are invited to share a dinner with him. You would be joining a very select list, including Prince Khalid Abdullah, the owner of the wondrous thoroughbred racehorse Frankel.'

'I see,' said Sophia, mulling over the possibilities. 'And would Abdelrahman's wife - or perhaps that should be, wives - be in attendance?'

'Ah, Miss Sophia, very droll. I had been informed that you had a very lively sense of humour. His wife - he has one only - is unable to make this particular trip. She has duties to attend to in Cairo so he has been obliged to travel on his own.'

'How inconvenient for him. And how, might I ask, did Abdelrahman happen to choose me out of all the people he might have chosen to bestow this extraordinary honour upon?'

'Ah,' whispered Seth, looking around as if to check that no one had entered the room to listen in on their conversation. 'You have made a big impression on him.'

'Well, clearly. But how exactly? Did he read the report on connected transactions I submitted to the board on Tuesday?'

'The report on connected transactions?' repeated Seth in some confusion. 'But that is an internal document, for board eyes only, as we like to say in the office!'

'I was being droll again, Seth. How come a man who is a perfect stranger to me would want to wine and dine me in his swanky penthouse?'

'Ha! "Wine and dine." Yes, I see what you mean. But no, Miss Sophia, you are not, as you put it so admirably, a "perfect stranger" to him. No. Not by a long chalk. He has been admiring your work from afar for some time. He feels he knows you quite well. He calls you a "kindred spirit". And that, Miss Sophia, must be accounted a singular honour when it comes from His Eminence.'

'"His Eminence?"' thought Sophia. 'Is there no end to his talents?'

'Perhaps you could tell, um, "His Eminence" to contact me directly if he has anything he wishes to say to me. We must always look after the needs of our high-net-worth individuals, must we not, Seth?'

'Oh, Miss Sophia, I was so sure that you would be understanding of his noble intentions. May blessings rain down upon you and your family! I will let Abdelrahman know that you will be expecting a communication from him.'

'You do that,' said Sophia, chuckling softly at the way trouble always seemed to follow her, whatever she did to try to avert it.

It took only a couple of days for Abdelrahman to contact Sophia and the way he did it was like something out of a spy novel. As she was about to walk up the steps to her office building, a limousine with tinted windows pulled up beside her. The electric window in the cavernous rear portion of the vehicle was wound down and a strong voice hailed her by name from the kerbside. Sophia stopped and turned about, unsure who it might be. Her attention was first drawn to a mane of a silver hair atop a craggy tanned face dominated by a Greek nose.

'My dear Sophia,' the man said, in a cultivated foreign accent. 'Would you do the honour of riding with me for a while? I have spoken to the necessary people at the bank. They will not miss you for half an hour.'

'I really must beg your apology,' he continued, as Sophia remained standing where she had stopped. 'A thousand pardons. I should introduce myself to you. I am Abdelrahman Ashraf Atum Shakib. You spoke with my friend Sethos about a certain business proposition I have for you.'

'Yes, indeed,' replied Sophia, moving towards the black monstrosity.

Before she could say any more, a liveried chauffeur in an appalling moss green uniform complete with oversize peaked hat glid over the pavement and opened the door for her. She got in and took her place next to the billionaire Egyptian. He leant across and kissed her hand. She felt first and then saw what she had missed at first glance: he had a moustache after the style of Omar Sharif. Only, he couldn't quite pull it off as the hair on his upper lip grew less luxuriantly than on that of the famous film star cum bridge player.

'I have been following your career at the bank with great interest. The board of directors see a great future for you there. They think you are wasted working as a mere head of legal.'

Sophia bridled at this suggestion. Her look was wasted on the swarthy Egyptian.

'But in business as in love ['Oh my god!' groaned Sophia] there is always a way. Always a path that may be taken to avoid the pitfalls and lead you to your destination.'

Abdelrahman paused and took Sophia's hand in both of his.

'We believe we have found that way; found a way to both enhance the business growth of the bank and further your career.'

'I think I'm beginning to understand,' said Sophia - though she had understood long ago, well before meeting this man.

'There is an element of

quid pro quo

involved,' she continued, picking up on his elliptical way of speaking.

'Precisely!' cried Abdelrahman, disengaging his hands from Sophia's and clasping them together to ensure she understood exactly how gleeful he felt.

'In return for wining and dining me, you will use your not inconsiderable influence with the bank to see to it that I am given a promotion to a post more befitting my talents.'

'Oh, yes, yes,' Abdelrahman jabbered excitedly. 'They told me what a quick learner you were.'

'May I check on a couple of details or would that be indelicate of me?'

'Oh my goodness, Sophia, do they not say that the devil is in the details?!'

'So you would not wish me to probe thus at this point of time?'

'No, you misunderstand me, my dear. When I say the devil is in the details I am referring to the benevolent djinn of our medieval tradition. Have you not read

One Thousand and One Nights

?'