46 #Dilemma

 

July 15, 2017
Saturday

 

Late afternoon sunshine sliced through the kitchen windows, cutting rectangles of light in the dark wood floor as Teddi prepared a cup of chamomile tea.  Her workday was over, and it had been a quiet one, consisting of only two client calls.  The mid-summer weather was beckoning the world to come out and play, putting work on the back burner for most people.  Even Julia had begged off work early, going home a couple of hours ago to leave Teddi alone again. 

 

Being alone wasn't something that had ever bothered her.  She quite enjoyed the personal freedom that came with solitude.  It meant there was no one to judge her baking cookies she didn't need or wasting hours online with Pinterest and Bon Jovi.  She did as she pleased without remorse, and it normally resulted in relaxation. 

 

Today, however, there was an underlying feeling of restlessness as she powered off the Keurig.  One that wasn't soothed by the fragrant steam rising from her "Happy are the Hands that Feed" mug.  The house felt unnaturally quiet, and the footsteps taking her back to the office seemed to carry an echo she didn’t usually notice. 

 

After a Wednesday filled with visitors and their many follow-up messages on Thursday, she had embraced the solitude that came with Friday.  It hadn't bothered her in the slightest that Endicott didn’t blow up her phone with threats, or that Jon was off the grid, or that Pierce had gone mysteriously quiet in the wake of his bomb dropping.  She'd enjoyed the time to simply breathe.

 

But that was yesterday, and today found her just a bit lonely.

 

Settling into her desk chair, she slid the tea onto a coaster and traded it for a plastic jar of fish food. 

 

"Are you hungry, boys?" she asked her three new housemates whose fishbowl now occupied the credenza.    

 

She unscrewed the cap, still touched by the gesture.  It would’ve been more touching had it actually come from Jon, but he’d hit a different soft spot when confessing that David was the real benefactor of her gift.  The thought was sweet, regardless of whose idea it was, and the constant ripple of fancy fins and tails was oddly soothing.  Who knew?  

 

As a bonus, she’d gotten the opportunity to meet David’s daughter.  The young woman was as quirkily charming as her father, and she spent a good ten minutes explaining the benefits of emotional support animals while periodically trying to make Jon look good.  As though he needed help in that department. 

 

"Now, Frankie, don't be greedy," she scolded the solid orange fish, who crowded his bowl-mates out of the way for the first flakes of food.  The name had been chosen in honor of Frankie in “It’s My Life”, but since she knew that was inspired by Frank Sinatra, Teddi stuck with the theme.  The orange and white splotched fish had been Dean, leaving the black one as Sammy.  They were three-quarters of the original Las Vegas Rat Pack – in fish form. 

 

David had gotten a kick out of that when she told him that in her message of thanks.  She thought Jon would be just as amused when he found out. 

 

She hadn’t heard from him since he denounced responsibility for their delivery.  Immediately after that and asking about her well-being, he’d used the same text message conversation to say he would be in the city for a few days, tied up with work.

 

Teddi didn’t even know whether the transfer of Peabody’s ownership was official.  Likely not, as the signed acceptances were only couriered to him yesterday.  Legal wheels were notoriously slow.   

 

Satisfied that all members of the Fish Pack were getting sufficient nourishment, she twisted the cap back on their food.  It had just been stowed in the drawer when an alert pealed out from both her phone and tablet, announcing that someone was at the gate.

 

Curious as to which cousin had come calling unannounced – and secretly hoping it was Jon – she called up the security app to find it was neither.  The face smiling persuasively into the camera belonged to Pierce.

 

"Damnation," she muttered to goldfish who couldn't care less about the awkward development. 

 

This was what came of neglecting her responsibility to issue Pierce’s apology.  If she'd only sent a message two days ago, the matter would be resolved, and he wouldn't be here requesting entry that she felt obligated to grant. 

 

With a sigh, she reluctantly tapped the button to do so, and it seemed like only seconds later when the doorbell rang.  She hadn't yet finished mentally composing her regrets for Tori's actions or for her own when Teddi was forced to put on a polite smile and swing open the door.

 

"Pierce.  What a surprise."

 

"Is it?" Lifted brows told of his skepticism. "You had to know I'd be back."

 

"I knew I'd likely hear from you.  Not that you'd turn up today, without a call or message."  She reciprocated his subtle scolding but tempered it with a faint smile.  "Please come in.  I was just having a cup of tea.  May I get you something?  Coffee, tea, lemonade, water...?"

 

"Just your time," he declined.  "I'd like to talk."

 

"Of course."  Teddi nodded toward the other end of the entry hall through the ever-so-slight clenching of her stomach.  The look in his eyes suggested they didn’t want to talk about the same things.  "I think the living room would be most comfortable."

 

Much as the last time they shared the room, he took the armchair while Teddi assumed the adjacent sofa. 

 

Folding both hands in her lap, she took the chance to direct the conversation by offering a sincere, "Pierce, I'm sorry for not reaching out to you earlier.  I understand that my cousin may have said some harsh things to you the other evening and hope you’ll accept my apology on her behalf.  My untimely... collapse put her under a bit of duress.  She didn’t mean any of it."

 

Doubt twisted his mouth into a smirk.  "Oh, she meant every word.  I half expected her to be camped out with ammunition when I came through the gates, but no apology needed.  I respect the protectiveness of family."

 

"Yes.  Well."  Teddi cleared her throat and shifted slightly on the cushion before meeting his eyes.  "I'd also like to apologize for my poor handling of your presence that evening.  You must understand how shocking it was for me."

 

"I do, and for that, I'm the one who should apologize.  I was halfway to New Jersey before realizing the address I’d been given and was a little shocked myself.  I didn't realize you knew Jon Bon Jovi."

 

As though things weren't uncomfortable enough, this brought things to the point of truly awkward.  Thank God for the hours of public speaking classes that enabled her posture to remain as steady as her voice when neutrally replying, "I've only known him a short time.  He's a client."

 

"A client, huh?"  The first bit of uncertainty made an appearance when Pierce’s focus briefly flicked to the artwork on the far wall before finding her again.  "Since there’s not an employment contract prohibiting me from personal questions, what is it that you do for a living?"

 

Now Teddi understood why Jon was so taken aback by the other man's unfamiliarity with her house.  After five years of bi-weekly appointments, Pierce had been here more than two hundred times, yet he didn't know things so basic as her occupation or where to find the kitchen. 

 

And, even after the turn in their last visit, it was still difficult reconciling this fully clothed, well-spoken man to the "sublet-a-stud" who was restricted to the boudoir.  She didn't know him any better than he knew her house.

 

"I'll answer if you will."

 

His laugh was humorless.  "It feels strange going at this backward, doesn't it?  Doing the whole 'getting to know you' thing after years of orgasms?"

 

"It does."  She wasn't compelled to ease the discomfort, either.  He'd created it, so the responsibility for navigating these muddy waters rested on him.

 

Pierce seemed to pick up on that unspoken thought and drew a breath.  "I'm a paralegal and have been for over twenty years.  As I told you the other evening, the escort gig was just... a bitter whim after my wife left me for her personal trainer.  My bruised pride liked the idea that she threw away something other women would pay dearly for."

 

"Five years - or more - is hardly a whim."

 

"Yeah, well, I met you about a week after I signed up with the agency."  Broad shoulders lifted and fell beneath his Ralph Lauren dress shirt.  "After another half-a-dozen bookings – mostly non-sexual, by the way – I told them I was done unless you requested me."

 

"Why?"

 

"My pride had healed.  I didn't need the revenge any longer."

 

"I'm sorry, I should've been more specific.  Why make an exception for me?"

 

Dare she say his smile was affectionate?  At a minimum, there was a fond twinkle in in his eyes when answering, "You needed someone, and I wasn't sure you'd go through another first encounter with an escort.  I wasn't sure you'd make it through ours at the time."

 

Images of that first meeting were etched a little too brilliantly in her mind.  It was before she had a meditation ring, so while Pierce sat in the very chair where he was now, she'd twisted her hands and bumbled through her list of expectations.  The experience was mortifying, but she'd been without a man's touch for so long that Teddi had been determined to see it through at least once. 

 

His patience and kindness had extended through the interview portion of the evening and into the boudoir.  He recognized her nervousness and allowed Teddi to set the pace with repeated, gentle reminders that she was in charge.  Whatever she wanted, he was there to provide it.

 

It hadn't been a five-star event, but he made sure she attained satisfaction.  In retrospect, Pierce was responsible for her dominance fetish.  He'd helped uncover the desire to exercise control in some aspect of her life.

 

"I liked that you sort of bloomed with me," he continued when she remained lost in the memory.  "That you found confidence.  It was fun watching the transformation from 'book club' to 'mother earth', and I enjoyed providing an escape that you seemed to need.  When it felt like things were coming to an end the last time I was here, I started to wonder if it was me who needed you."

 

His voice had gone softer with that last sentence, and a similar softness was echoed in his features. 

 

"Pierce, I..."

 

"You and Jon Bon Jovi have something going on," he supplied quietly and without animosity.  "But I can't imagine that a guy like that is going to be long-term."

 

No, it wouldn't be long-term.  She'd acknowledged it from the beginning, and the possessiveness the other night didn't change matters.  That bit of roleplay was just an effective way of notching up the heat.  Jon still had carte blanche to simply not return, and he knew it.  She'd given him that with the understanding it would one day happen.

 

"I like you, Teddi," the man in front of her murmured.  "Outside the bedroom.  The evening we spent watching that movie and drinking sangria was the nicest date I've had since the divorce.  I'd like to do it again."

 

"Oh, Pierce,” was her distraught sigh.  “I don't think that's a good-"

 

He held up a hand to interrupt her polite refusal.  "And I'm willing to wait until the thing with Bon Jovi has played out."

 

"Mr. Bon Jovi is a client.  You're making assumptions that are unfounded."

 

"I don't think so, but okay."  His chin dipped in concession.  "Maybe you just need time to mentally transition me from the role of employee to companion.  I'm willing to wait for that, too, as long as you promise to think about it.  To seriously consider dating me – without sex, until the relationship progresses that far." 

 

He was a good man.  Teddi had always recognized that.  If he wasn't, she wouldn't have booked the second appointment, much less the two-hundred and twenty-second. 

 

Why did this have to be such a dilemma?

 

You only think it’s a dilemma.  Face facts, Theodosia.  Jon is a fleeting fantasy.  He may continue to be your business partner and friend, but the more personal relationship isn't going anywhere.  Do you really think you can go back to celibacy after that?  Or have the nerve to sublet a new stud, since "Professional" Pierce is off the market?  Regular Pierce is nice, handsome, sexually competent, and interested.  Don't slam the door in his face just yet. 

 

She didn’t feel entirely confident about her answer, but Teddi gave it anyway. 

 

"Alright.  I'll think about it."