Lucky

Part 6

Vickie felt a surreal rush as she took her seat with her father. The boys had placed themselves facing Elle, so she sat next to her lover. Her father sat between his sons.

"Sons, we have glad tidings. I have decided to make your sister a partner in our firm."

Elle watched the young men's reactions and was gratified to see that Yo was as excited as Dron. Both of them leapt up to embrace their sister.

"And your sister has also given Christopher his walking papers."

The brothers bumped fists with each other and kissed Vickie.

She protested, "I thought you guys liked him!"

"He's such a prick, Vickie!" Dron replied, followed by his other half, "I've always wanted to beat his cheating punk ass." Yo's fists actually clinched thinking about it.

"Sons, Victoria has more to tell you."

As the men took their seats, Vickie cut a glance at Elle. Elle only smiled with no surprise and total support.

"Yo…Dron…I broke up with Chris because I realized he wasn't what I need in a relationship. And because I've finally met someone who is." She took Elle's hand, "I'm dating Elle now."

The two younger men spoke as one:

"What?" said Yo.

"About time," said Dron.

They looked at each other. Dron huffed then asked, "Yo Yo, do I always have to draw you a diagram? She likes girls-always has."

Vickie's brow furrowed-"Wait-a-minute. I didn't even know that myself before-"

"Mom and I talked about it years ago," Dron said dismissively as he took a sip of coffee. "No biggie. Glad you caught up."

Yo, who had been flirting wildly with Elle in Vickie's absence, felt his face redden as he said to the blonde, "And here I thought I was doing so well with you."

"You were doing really great, Yo. It's just that Vickie's doing so much better."

She smiled sweetly and said. "Let's toast." She raised her coffee cup and winked at Vickie, "To our new partner!"

A few minutes later, Johann left and returned with a digital camera and a tripod. "We'll need a few pictures of this day."

He took a few pictures of the twins and the women and, after a few tests, Johann set the timer and they took a group shot.

"Could you send me a copy of those if I give you my email?"

"Vickie could give them to you tomorrow, Elle."

Vickie answered, "Elle's leaving for Switzerland tomorrow. She'll be gone for three months."

"Then we'll give you both print and digital copies now. Yo?"

"Will do, Dad."

***

Later, in the car, Vickie asked, "Did you have a good time, baby?"

"I did. Much better than I thought I would. It's nice to meet a family who isn't entirely nuts. And, by the way, your brother doesn't resent you. He's a bit jealous, and let's face it-who wouldn't be-but he doesn't resent you."

"Really? You really think so?"

"Promise."

"Thanks for telling me that." Vickie glanced at Elle and then back at the road, "You know, I was a little surprised that you were so open about your business dealings in front of me, much less my family."

"Well, it's not like my conversation shed any light on what I actually do, is it?"

"Nope. Still totally in the dark."

Elle put a hand on Vickie's thigh, "I told you my business dealings aren't secrets. They're just stuff most people don't want to know or believe about the world of global finance. You weren't far wrong when you called them X-Files-and I'm really not kidding, although you'll still think I am. I can't always afford to be on what you might consider to be the side of the angels. I don't want to misrepresent myself as a global economy do-gooder, because I'm not and that's just the truth. I figure the sooner you know that I'm not very nice and want me out of your life, the better for both of us."

Vickie smiled, "You don't get away that easy, Elle, so stop pushing me. And even though I still don't have the slightest idea what you do, I can't imagine not wanting you around."

Elle looked out at the road and nearly smiled. Instead, she yawned.

"Is that a comment on my company, short-stop?"

"It's a comment on the fact I've only been making love, eating and talking for three days."

"Not one of which seem to be a particular problem for you, I might add," Vickie said as glanced again at Elle. She saw the woman had raised an eyebrow and she grinned. "Okay. Maybe not sex. But eating? Talking? If you weren't such a coma-baby, I'd bet you could do those two in your sleep."

Elle snorted. "I told you, I'm a very light sleeper."

Vickie rolled her eyes.

***

Fifteen minutes later, they'd arrived in Vickie's kitchen. "I'm in the mood for some tea. Want some?

Elle grinned. "Sure. What kind?"

"I like chamomile at night. That'll relax us for bed. How about that?"

"Great." Elle took a seat at the small kitchen table.

As Vickie readied the teapot, put the kettle on and stood by the stove, she said, "I know you thought I was kidding but I really want to know more about this Doushka woman."

"Nothing to know. She's my assistant."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Is she pretty?"

Elle's body tensed and she paused. Vickie jumped on the hesitation. "I'll take that as a yes and I'd bet $10,000 she's better than pretty and younger than you are."

"Okay. She's fuck gorgeous and since she's my assistant, that suggests she'd be younger than I am."

Although Elle's tone had suddenly become combative, Vickie's face and voice remained pleasant. "Oh, no. My assistant is in her 60s and I would never use the word 'fuck' in the same paragraph, much less the same sentence with her. But since you brought it up, are you sleeping with her?"

"No!"

"Let me rephrase that. Do you have sex with her?"

The blonde woman tilted her head and paused again.

"Not that hard a question, Elle. Do you have sex with her?"

The blonde's face became impassive, "I suppose, in a manner of speaking."

"What does that mean, President Clinton? You do or you don't?"

"It means it's not what you're probably thinking."

"I don't know what to think. So why don't you tell me."

The kettle whistled, making them both jump. As Vickie prepared the tea, Elle said, "This feels like an interrogation, Victoria."

"It may feel like it but it's not, darling. I want to understand something you're hesitant to discuss and to do so I have to ask questions."

"What exactly do you want to know?"

"Okay. Hmmm. You're going back to Switzerland tomorrow and spending your remaining months there working very closely with someone you're in a sexual relationship with. What do you think I want to know?"

"Look, I told you I won't have sex with anyone else and I won't."

Vickie finished steeping the tea, placed their cups on the table and took a seat opposite Elle. "I believe that. That's not what I want to know."

"Then what? What!?"

"Sweetie, please don't be angry. If you look in my eyes, you'll see I'm not angry. You're having sex with a subordinate and-"

"Just what the fuck are you accusing me of?"

Vickie took a sip of tea and smiled, "I haven't accused you of anything but if I had you on the witness stand, I'd jump all over that assumption of accusation. Those are just two facts: you have sex with her; she's your subordinate. You've also led me to believe you have no sexual relationships outside of prostitution; yet, clearly you do. You're good at the condensed version of things. Give me that but include her age, how long and how often."

Elle sipped her tea, and said with a voice devoid of emotion, "She's 22 years old and she's been working for me for three years. We've been doing it since about one month after she started. When I'm in Geneve, I have sex with her twice, three times a week, sometimes more." She hesitated, "Sometimes much more. She goes into my office bathroom, bares her tits and pulls down her pants or pulls up her skirt. I fuck her while I'm touching her tits. I've never put my mouth on her. I've never had a date with her, never kissed her, never hugged her and she has never touched me sexually."

Vickie nodded. "Ah. Now that explanation had a tell, as they say in poker. You just called her breasts 'tits.' You've called your own breasts tits but never mine, even before we made love. Which probably means, I'm only guessing, that you're trying to distance yourself from what you're feeling. "

The blonde woman stared at her tea and didn't say a word.

Vickie was shaken, internally, but merely tapped the rim of her tea cup for a few seconds. "These questions may seem like non sequitars, but they aren't. From your phone call and aside from the sex, it sounds like you have a nice working relationship."

"We do. She's fantastic at her job."

"Is she nice? Is she smart?"

"Yeah, I guess." Elle paused. "Wait-a-minute. No. You want the truth, right? She's really nice-to me, at least. She's smarter than I am, knows more languages than I do. She'd have to, to be in her position at her age. And she's sweet and witty. All those things."

"I'll assume this is mutually consensual. Why is she settling for fucking in your bathroom?"

Vickie watched the muscles in Elle's jaws work before she mustered, "Because she's a submissive-a real submissive."

"Like I am?"

"Not at all. You only enjoy submissive sex. She needs it."

Both women sipped their tea and looked at each other in two shades of feeling. Elle was defensive, Vickie controlled.

Vickie asked Elle. "How do you know it's consensual?"

Elle bristled visibly, "Because I ask her every time, alright? I tell her she doesn't have to do it. I tell her I won't care if she says no. I tell her she can't jeopardize her job by refusing me. I ask her if she still wants to. And she does."

"Or, in other words, you have an alcoholic working at your bar for the entirety of every working week and twice a week, often more, you pour her a drink, hand it to her and tell her it's her choice if she drinks it?"

Elle didn't answer.

"What else does she do for you?"

Vickie watched the muscles in the younger woman's jaw clench. She was grinding her teeth. "Beside her actual duties? My make-up. My dry-cleaning. My…everything an assistant could possibly do."

"She knows you don't date?"

Elle nodded, "I don't know-well…yeah, I guess she does knows I don't date. She knows my schedule."

"Does she know about your past?"

"Yes."

"Does she know you hook?"

"No. I've never told her-and it's not something Gilles would allow gossip about."

"Does she date?"

Elle thought about this for a few seconds. "Not that she's ever mentioned."

"During dinner last night, you told me you never trick in Europe. Do you know why?"

Before Elle could answer, Vickie added, "And do you know why a 'fuck gorgeous' and nice, intelligent, witty woman doesn't date?"

Elle bit off the words, "I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

Vickie reached across the table and took one of Elle's hands in hers.

"Yes. I will. In business, I'm sure you can read people like books but you don't know anything about the female heart, do you? Not even your own."

Elle considered this. "No. I guess I don't. How could I?"

"Doushka doesn't date and you don't trick in Europe because you're both already in a long-term intimate relationship, one that I guarantee you she believes to be monogamous. It's not romantic in the usual sense but, because you work together, you do spend more waking time together than you would if you were married. And it certainly sounds like you have more sex than if you were."

Elle took her hand from Vickie's, covered her face with both hands and began to cry.

"Let me explain something to you, Elle. Were I truly submissive and 19 when I started working for you, I'd have fallen in love with you. And I'd settle for having you fuck me in your bathroom. Because that would be all I could get. You said it yourself-your terms are non-negotiable. But, if I were naļve, I'd hope that meant that you cared for me.

See if this sounds familiar: I'd get to work early and go home late. I'd work on weekends, whenever you called. I'd always be there at any time of the day or night and I'd anticipate your every need. If years went by, I'd dream that your absence of other partners meant that someday, sometime, if I just waited and were indispensable enough, I'd have a chance. And, like tonight, every time you said that I was beautiful, my heart would jump. But every time you asked if I were in love with you yet, you'd be driving a stake in my heart, because I already would be."

Elle began to sob into her hands.

"Baby, I know this hurts and I'm sorry. But I will always tell you the bad and the good that I see in you. You will always be able to trust my honest opinion. You've used this woman and you've used your position over her to your advantage, whether you've realized it or not."

Elle groaned, "She's so going to kick my ass."

Vickie leaned forward, "What do you mean. Legally? Personally? Is she vindictive?"

The blonde shook her head. "No. Not vindictive-she's-you'd have to meet her to see what I mean."

"So you don't mean she'd sue you or try to physically hurt you."

"Doushka? Oh no. Never. God no."

"Then you're lucky, Elle." Vickie paused, then asked, "Do you want a relationship with her?"

"I've never thought about it." Elle scrubbed her face and sniffed violently.

"Think about it now."

"Is that what you want-for me to give you up for her?"

"No. Honestly, that would break my heart," Vickie said.

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Because you have a lot of time invested in a woman you seem to care about."

"No…yes. I do…I mean, of course I care about her. I love her dearly. But not in that way. Never in that way." Elle's eyes widened. "Oh my God. She's really my only friend-she's my best friend. How could I do this to my friend? How can I-what do? I-"

"You let her down as kindly and gently as you can."

"You don't know Doushka. The thing is-I can stand her being angry with me. She's always slightly angry with me. But if she's really upset, I honestly don't know what I'll do. I can't fire her."

"Could you offer her another job elsewhere in your organization?"

"No. I can't. I'm Gilles' assistant. She's mine. I represent him and she represents me, in every way. In that sense, she's not a subordinate. She represents me and will succeed me, just as I will Gilles."

Vickie digested this. "So this is what? Business royalty? Gilles is Queen Elizabeth; you're Prince Charles and Doushka is Prince William?"

"Bingo. Exactly. And just like royalty or the Supreme Court, you do this forever. So we're, basically, stuck with each other. Business partners for life."

"Surely either of you could leave if you really, really wanted to."

"Okay. Yes. Theoretically, you could. But it's not done."

Vickie sighed, "You do realize this makes your position worse."

"Yeah? No shit."

Elle looked utterly despondent and Vickie could see that fatigue was making the younger woman's emotions even more volatile. So she stood and rounded the table to kiss the blonde, who shied away. "Don't fucking kiss me. I'm a sexual predator."

Vickie kissed her on the top of the head, "Come to bed, my love. You're not a predator. You've just made a big mistake that you're going to correct. If you have a heart, and you do, breaking up with her is going to hurt a lot more than you can imagine. You need some rest."

Elle tugged at Vickie's hand as they climbed the stairs, "Do you still want me to come back?"

"With all my heart. Change of subject, short-stop. I'll bet I can do something with you in bed you've never done with someone you've had sex with."

"Unfortunately, that's not possible."

"Betcha ten bucks."

"It was ten thousand in the kitchen."

"Trust me-the odds are on my side."

They entered Vickie's bedroom.

"Then bet me ten thousand."

"You asked for it. Ten thousand bucks."

"Lay it on me."

"Sleep."

"What?"

"Have you ever just gone to bed with someone and slept through the night without having sex first?"

Elle plopped herself on the end of the bed. "Fffffuck. That's not even fair, Vic! C'mon!"

The other woman shrugged as she unbuttoned her blouse. "I believe I explained that the odds were on my side-"

Elle jumped up, grabbed Vickie and threw her on the bed, which made both of them smile. Elle stretched herself over her lover and asked, "Are you disappointed in me?"

Vickie wrapped her arms around the sniffling blonde, "No. I'm not. I think your guilt's going to hurt you enough without my adding anything to it."

"Oh yeah. How much do you know about guilt?"

Vickie shrugged, "More than you'd think."

"You still feel the same about me?"

Vickie stroked Elle's back, "I do but you know, sweetheart, I personally have very little right to be judgmental."

"I don't feel like I have any right."

"Well, you do-and, believe me," Vickie's voice lowered to a whisper, "there are things in my past that would change the way you feel about me."
Elle murmured sweetly, drowsily "Oh, I doubt that."

At those words, Vickie felt a shocking wave of just the guilt she was talking about-and willed herself to speak-but didn't. And within minutes, she felt Elle fall asleep.

But Elle was not asleep. She was thinking about Doushka.

And Vickie could not sleep. She was thinking about Doushka, too, and what she had not said.

***

As Vickie headed into the gym to meet Sheila, she decided that the day had been a good one. She'd seen Elle off at the airport; her father had announced her partnership and the rest of their office had seemed to be as thrilled to hear the news as she had been. That is, all of her colleagues excepting Chris, who looked as if he'd bitten down on a particularly sour lemon while being simultaneously impaled on a corn cob.

Sheila Kennedy was Vickie's coworker and although she was 20 years older, she was a very good friend and a great gym buddy. Vickie was often astonished by how much the tiny grey-haired woman could talk, and never more so than when they were exercising. Although Vickie enjoyed exercise, the gym was Sheila's excuse to have a good session of gossip. She was extraordinarily interested in every aspect of her friends' lives, especially their sex lives.

She and her husband Jim had met in grade school and married, as virgins, right after high school. As she put it herself, she hadn't discovered that she'd wanted to be a slut until she was happily married and it was too late. Her vicarious enjoyment of her friends' sex lives was notorious and wholehearted.

It took the majority of their workout to go over the ramifications of Vickie's partnership and for Sheila to enumerate the many ways in which she hated Christopher.

As they walked toward the dressing room, Vickie asked, "Why didn't any of you guys say anything? It's seems the only thing everyone I know agrees upon is how much they hate Chris."

"He's immanently hate-able. Now, finally, you can get out there and meet someone nice."

"I sort of already did."

"WHAT?!" Sheila grabbed Vickie's arm and plopped her on the bench in the middle of the dressing room. "You met someone and we've been talking about your damned partnership?" She smacked Vickie's thigh. "You know the rules. Don't even bother saying hello to me-just get right to the dirt. Who is he?"

Before Vickie could even respond, Sheila interjected, "No. Wait. Let's get in the sauna-more privacy."

"I…can't get in the sauna."

"Why?"

"I mean, I can, but I have to keep my clothes on."

"Why? You'll boil."

"True. But-"

Sheila's eyes narrowed into slits, "Victoria, are you hiding something?"

"Well…sort of. Yeah."

Sheila grabbed Vickie by the arm and dragged her into the handicapped bathroom stall and closed the door. "Strip."

"What?"

"Not all the way, maniac-just your shirt and sweatpants."

As Vickie pulled her shirt over her head, she heard Sheila gasp. "What do you mean, you met someone? You fed someone. Hadn't this guy heard of dinner? Is it this way on your legs, too?"

Vickie didn't answer, merely pulled down her pants enough for Sheila to see the insides of the thighs.

"Holy shit, Vickie. Did you want him to do that?"

"Well….as a matter of fact, I asked her to do it."

Sheila's face dropped, "Her?"

"Yeah, her. As in woman."

"So…what are you saying…are you-"

Vickie pulled her pants up and pulled her shirt on, "I've been questioning my sexuality for a while and I met a woman who answered all my questions. I'm a lesbian."

Sheila digested this for a few seconds before fervently making the sign of the cross and looking toward the ceiling. "Thank you, God." Vickie stared as Sheila added, "I've been praying for my very own lesbian for years. You have to tell me everything!"

Vickie felt a mixture of amusement and anxiety and she looked it. "I can answer a few questions but I can't tell you everything."

"Why not?!"

A few seconds passed as Sheila studied Vickie's face. Her own face changed, softened, "It's like that, huh? You had serious sex."

"Serious sex?"

Sheila pulled Vickie into a hug, then released her and lowered her voice. "Jim and I have sex fairly frequently and usually it's nice-a really lovely way to connect. But every once in a while, it reminds us that we're married and part of each other and that's really personal and I call that serious sex."

Vickie smiled. "It was very serious."

"I'm happy for you-but devastated for me. No details."

"You can have a few but just remember I can't share everything."

Sheila nodded and Vickie bent down to whisper in her ear. Sheila listened with widening eyes and when Vickie pulled away, she stamped her feet on the ground with delight. "Shut up! You did not! She did not!! Did it hurt!?"

Vickie shrugged. "The spanking, a little. The other, not at all."

"Really?" The older woman said, reverently, "I think I'm in love, too."

"I didn't say I was in love."

"Nope. The look in your eyes said it."

***
Elle sighed as she unlocked the door to her apartment and dumped her luggage on the floor. As she'd said, she had an efficiency apartment smaller than Vickie's kitchen, with only the barest of furnishings and no personal touches. It was a place to eat and sleep and that was all. She kept the majority of her business clothing at her office, preferring an early workout at the office gym and shower in her executive bathroom.

She flopped on the couch that also served as her bed and closed her eyes. She'd had tried sleeping on the plane, but her discussion with Vickie had left her troubled. Just how much did she really understand about her relationship with Doushka? And how should she approach the subject? It wasn't a discussion she could put off but it wasn't a discussion she wanted to have, either.

TBC