The side door opening startled her out of her daze. It was an old janitor with a broom. She offered a friendly smile in passing and made her way out into the hall. She turned the corner and almost ran headlong into the very lawyer she was supposed to partner with tomorrow.
"Ah, Jack, you surprised me," she gushed.
"So, can we count you in?" He asked.
"I-I-I guess."
"Oh, thank god! You'll save our ass on this one. You know where I live. Come by tomorrow at eleven, so we can go over our game plan," he said rapidly, then turned to leave.
"Wait Jack," she said, grabbing his arm. "That's twice I've heard that 'saving ass line.' But...why me?"
"You," he said, and then paused as if searching for the right words. Well, I was supposed to go over with my girlfriend, and I set everything up, and then I went home yesterday, and she and her stuff are gone...cleared out."
"But...again...why...me," Cheryl demanded, jerking on his arm. "I mean, there are some pretty lawyers here in the firm that could play your girlfriend."
"Ok, Ok," he groaned, pulling his arm free. He smoothed out the expensive cloth. "You, ah, fit the description we got."
"Description?"
"Yeah, well, description or prescription... You're a pretty blonde, with big bo..."
"Boobs!" Cheryl snapped, a little insulted.
"Yeah, that seems to be his daughter's type," he said. Then he laughed. "Ok, that's a universal type."
"Gee, thanks." Cheryl wasn't happy, but at least now she knew why she'd been picked. She also didn't like the fact that her boobs were being used as bait to lure another woman into a damaging admission.
"But seriously, you seem like you can handle pressure. Every time I give you something to do in a pressure situation, you come through." He paused and looked at his TAG Heuer watch. "You have some time now, so here," he said, handing her his credit card and a business card of a high-toned beauty salon. "Go have some fun and get your mind off of things for a little while. We have a big day tomorrow. And thanks again."
Cheryl took his advice. It was true that she very rarely had a day to herself. So she used this opportunity (and Jack's credit card) to unwind. Her first stop was the salon whose card Jack had given her. They knew him well. She wasn't really surprised that Jack went to a beauty salon; after all, she'd always thought of him as a "pretty boy." She also joked that he might spend more time in front of the mirror than she did. But she had to admit he always looked good, and he always had a sexy woman on his arm at the firm's get togethers.
She ordered up the works, since Jack was paying. And, remembering the bikini, she included a bikini wax. Cheryl blushed when it was time to take off her panties in front of a total stranger, but she tried to think of the female technician sort of like a doctor.
Next, it was off to buy a new bikini. She went to a small, name brand clothing store. The well-dressed sales girl helped her pick out a few to try on. Cheryl blushed when she offered to help. Cheryl just shook her head and scurried off to the changing rooms at the back of the store. She hurried out of her clothes and tried on the first one. She took some time looking herself over, as it had been a few years since she had worn a suit that brief.
"I guess I can still pull this look off," she said with a nervous giggle. "Plus, I still have these." She pulled the sting on her bikini top, and her breasts fell out. She pirouetted, her exposed breasts bouncing and staring back at her in the mirror. She reached up and cupped them in her hands, running her thumbs around her pink areola and then, with a purr, over her erect nipples.
"Are you all right, Ma'am?"
"Ah...yes!" Cheryl squeaked. Her face flushed when she heard the sales girl's voice, and she suddenly remembered where she was. She tried on a more conservative solid red one next and thought it was more appropriate. And she felt less naked. Though she liked it, she still tried on a dozen more before she left with the simple red one. Before she left, she also grabbed a white silk robe. On her way home, she made a stop to get a spray-on tan, since having two sons to look after didn't leave her with a lot of time to laze in the sun.
While she was shopping, she also thought about what to tell her husband -- and what not to tell him. She decided that, after they put the kids to bed for the night, she would tell him she had to work tomorrow with Jack Donahue and that they had an important meeting...with Carrasso (just in case). And that's all she dared tell him, for now.
It turned out he wasn't happy with the sudden news. Although he said he really didn't remember who Jack was, he certainly knew all about Carrasso's reputation from reading the newspapers. Carrasso was reportedly into guns, prostitution, gambling, and more. If the mob was dead, someone had forgotten to tell him and his gang.
She assured him that she wasn't in danger, because the FBI knew who went in and out of that mansion, and Carrasso was aware of it. Her husband pouted, but remained silent.
"Look honey, this is my chance to prove that I'm more than the blonde paralegal with the big boobs," she said, as she stroked his hair. "Plus I'll tell you all about it tomorrow night. Although, I might not be home until late 'cause after the meeting we have to draft some briefs. But I will tell you. I promise. I would never do things behind your back."
"Ok," he finally said, after Cheryl had batted her blue-green eyes a few times. "I know that, and I trust your judgment. But please be extra careful. I know your job is important..."
"Nothing is more important than you and the kids," Cheryl interrupted, as she stroked his hair. "And I will honey, everything is going to be fine. And I will have my cell phone..."
Her husband held her chin in his hand as he stared her in the eyes. "I just don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you. I just love you so much." Cheryl was too moved to respond with anything but a passionate kiss...that led to an even more passionate love making session.
Cheryl started a hot bubble bath afterward; she was still too wound up to sleep. As she soaked in the dim, candle-lit bathroom, she thought about what her boss had said earlier -- especially about "The Search." She had read some stories on the Internet and seen some movies that involved men searching women. She always got a small tingle of excitement as she pictured herself in that powerless situation. Cheryl's hands wandered over her body. She closed her eyes and drifted. Suddenly it felt like there were a host of hands touching her...rubbing her shoulders...caressing her breasts...patting her tummy...squeezing her ass cheeks...playing in between her legs...fluttering over her shaved pussy... And then fingers slipping inside...even slipping inside her little bottom hole.
"Oh god!" she gasped, as she suddenly realized she was actually fingering her own asshole. "That's a little too real," she said, before she slipped under the water.
In the morning, after making her boys' breakfast, she grabbed her pool bag and headed for Donahue's apartment, which was located in a plush complex across the city. She flashed her husband one last reassuring look before she left. His smile warmed her heart.
She drove across town, her nervousness building with every passing mile. She knew Donahue's apartment well because she had often been sent there to pick up paperwork. (Working at home was just one of the perks Donahue enjoyed as the firm's most successful attorney.)
She spotted him jogging not far from his place and pulled over, but he just waved her on. She didn't have to wait long on the landing outside his apartment, however. When he jogged up the stairs, he was shirtless and sweat-soaked. It made his muscular body glisten. She followed him into his apartment, while catching a glimpse of the front of his tight, damp running shorts. Of course, she had heard the rumors, but now she had a better feeling as to why he walked with such confidence.
"I have to take a shower. Make us some breakfast," he said, and headed for the bathroom. Cheryl chuckled until she realized that he was serious. For the second time today Cheryl found herself at the stove. "Men!" she groaned. She wasn't really surprised that she was half through with her eggs, when Jack finally made his way out of the bathroom, his cologne signaling his approach.
After some initial small talk, the conversation turned to the task at hand. He did most of the talking, and she did most of the nodding and mental note-taking. It was the way it always was between the two of them, as much as it irked Cheryl. It didn't help when he suggested she go change and "pretty up" in the bathroom.
Now it was her turn for some mirror time. When she walked out of the bathroom sometime later, Jack looked up from his paper and did a double take. "Oh, Cheryl, if I can be so bold, you ARE beautiful."
