The Curse of the Scots, Part Six
Three people; all in love. It's a mess!
The next morning when I awakened Cayden was already up and gone. He left me a note saying he had some work to do, but he'd be back in time for lunch. He thanked me for wonderful evening.
I yawned and stretched; I think did a good imitation of Vivian Leigh after the night Clark Gable carried her up the stairs in 'Gone with the Wind'. Last night had been wonderful. It had hurt like hell, but it was worth it. Cayden hadn't said much, but I saw the look on his face. I know he's in love. He loves me.
That's when it occurred to me again, for what seemed like the thousandth time; I was still dealing with a stupid backward farmer, and an ethnic Scot to boot. He loved me sure, but he was still who he was. It would take more than last night to get what I wanted.
I reflected on what I knew and I had heard about the Scottish. They were reputed to be stingy, but history disproved that. They were, as a point in fact, a very generous people. Cayden had certainly showed his generosity toward me. They were a practical but also an incredibly sentimental people. Most were reputed to be good humored, self-deprecating, and above all loyal.
The big downside was the long Protestant tradition; the Calvinist thing. How did I know all this? I couldn't say, but the Calvin thing was Cayden's big drawback. I could see it in everything he did. He had many blessings, but it was like for every good thing he got he was waiting for someone or something to come and take it away or at least muck it up.
What was that old adage; 'the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.' I thought of another one; 'You can but you can't, you will but you won't, you'll be damned if you do, you'll be damned if you don't.' Where did I get this stuff? I couldn't figure it out, but I knew one thing; somewhere Cayden was out driving around happy about what we discovered about each other last night, but I bet now he was also waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I had to face my fears. I knew I wasn't good enough, I'd never be good enough, not for him, but I was going to make my play. I would get him. I'd make him mine, but I realized I needed to do something more. I needed to push him over the edge. My bet was in the next day or two the something I'd need would show up on its own. I'd just have to wait.
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Angie has her demons too.
Matt really tried to put it to me last night; I guess what the guys would call the old full court press. He told me how much he cared about me. He told me he thought I was pretty; I know that was a little over the top. Cayden's the only man who told me he thought I was pretty who I ever sincerely believed.
Matt talked to me about Emily and how sweet she is. He gently reminded me about all the things we'd done together. Honestly, he went right to the edge; he almost suggested all our dates and time together had been his down payment on my body. He came close to the classic; 'look at all I've done for you, now how about some payback.' I could have gone either way; he was within a hair of getting inside my panties, he was also within a hair of getting the boot.
For sure, I'm not ready to give it up, not to him, not yet. I might be close, but not yet. Matt's going to have to say and do a whole lot more before he gets a piece of me. Bernard might have gotten some, but those were punishment fucks aimed at Cayden, the only other one was Cayden...Cayden...my Cayden, the boy I remembered.
++++++++++
Cayden pays a man a visit.
I got out of my car and walked up the ramp that led to the outside door of Matt Devereau's library office. I didn't want to bother him inside; I thought maybe the outer door would be better. There were several people walking around outside. Yeah, it's a Saturday, bad day for this kind of thing, too many people around. I knocked anyway.
Devereau opened the seldom used outside door to his office. I was waiting for him. Matt stepped outside, "Yes Mr. McLeish?"
I asked, "Got a minute?"
He replied, "What for?"
I told him, "I wanted to ask how Angie's doing."
Matt didn't offer to let me inside; he stood at the door and answered, "She's doing fine Mr. McLeish. Her work record is good. She's acclimated herself quite well to the overall environment."
I realized I needed to clarify what I meant, "That's not exactly what I was here about Matt."
He asked, "What else could it be?"
I started, "You know she's my ex-wife. I wondered..."
Devereau butted in, "Mr. McLeish who she was or what she did before I hired her is immaterial. She's my employee, and I find her work satisfactory."
I stepped a little closer, "You've been dating her. Is that library policy?"
He answered but didn't back away, "Yes I have taken her out a few times, but frankly Mr. McLeish I don't think that's any of your business."
I leaned further forward. I didn't mean to touch him; it was a complete accident, but as we talked I inadvertently tapped my index finger against his chest. It was an honest mistake. I didn't mean anything by it.
When I thumped him on his chest he must have acted on instinct. I'd never dealt with anyone who knew Karate. He snapped my finger back, popped his thumb against my Adam 's apple, stuck out a foot, and with an arm landed me on my back. Once I was down I guess he had no choice but to warn me.
He pointed his finger at me, "Mr. McLeish you shouldn't strike at people you don't know. I'm sorry. I should have warned you. I'm somewhat familiar with the martial arts."
Holy shit, he had me on my back before I could've said oops or something. He reached down and offered me his hand. I accepted it, "I'm sorry Matt I wasn't trying anything. It was a mistake. I'm just worried about my ex-wife."
He bristled at me, "Angie's a grown woman. She's here by virtue of a Federal grant. Though I report on her activities I'm not her supervisor in the normal sense so our off duty contacts aren't technically in violation of any rules. As for your assault, I'll overlook it this time, but don't try anything like that again."
Assault? I was humiliated. What I'd done was hardly an assault! Worse at least a dozen people saw a scrawny librarian put me on my ass. Damn, couldn't I take anybody? I tried to recover, "Look Mr. Devereau I have a right to ask you about my ex-wife..."
He sort of spat back, "Maybe you do, but I'm not obliged to tell you anything. She's a grown woman. I imagine when I tell her how you were meddling in her life this morning she'll want to take some action. If she does I'll support her. Mr. McLeish you're a rich man. You have influence in this town, but be careful; don't go too far."
