Julian

III. March, Ch. 34

     Calvin bit the tip of a pen, sitting up on the warm mattress and looking down at his open notebook. He wore socks on his feet and a bed comforter around his waist, but nothing else. "I will call Mr. Bridges' office. His secretary will pick up. She will ask me who I am."

     Genevieve sat next to him, her back pressed against the headboard and a pile of pillows. She was slightly flushed, dressed in nothing but a used bed sheet. "Uh huh. And you say..."

     "I say that I'm your new co-founder and that we have an appointment with Mr. Bridges at noon. His secretary will look through his calendar—"

     "Yeah, blah, blah, blah. Get to the good stuff."

     Calvin flipped ahead a few pages, searching for the answers. "And then... Mr. Bridges is going to want to have a man-to-man talk with me over the phone. That's when he'll ask me about my current profession, what my business background is, etcetera, etcetera."

     Genevieve smiled as she took a long sip of wine. She adjusted her back against the pillows in enviable satisfaction. "Mm. Good boy."

     Her affirmation pleased him more than it should have. "And that's when I tell him I worked for my father, who was a successful Los Angeles entrepreneur, and that I owned and operated a theater production company before becoming a teacher."

     "Okay," said Genevieve. "And what do you say next?"

     Calvin looked over his shoulder at Genevieve and threw his hands up. "I don't know. This is all lies."

     "Oh, like you've never lied before."

     His eyes found her exposed calves and glued their gaze to a bite mark he left behind. On her light, fair skin, any mark was noticeable. For a second, he wondered if he hurt her, but either way, it wouldn't stop him from trying again. 

     What was she talking about? Oh, yes. Lying. She was teaching him to lie, among other things. "Lying doesn't come naturally to me. You oughta know by now. I don't even know why I'm learning to lie now."

     Genevieve finished the last of her wine and set the empty glass down on the messy nightstand. She forgot all about the bed sheet that was keeping her covered and scooted closer to Calvin's naked back.

     He moistened his lips as he watched her. Calvin, you lucky son of a gun. How did you score such a prize?

     She wrapped one arm around his torso and pressed herself against his back. Her voice was low and husky and smelled of Chardonnay. "You're learning to lie because nineteen minutes ago, I did a good job convincing you."

     Calvin melted into a puddle. Her touch had divine powers. "Nineteen minutes? Surely, it was much longer than that."

     She giggled, raking his hair with her fingers just the way Calvin liked. "Maybe. You did have more stamina than I was expecting. Must be all the Tang you drink."

     Calvin felt leftover ecstasy flicker beneath the comforter that clothed him. He delighted himself in every second of her touch.

     She nibbled on the skin where his neck became his shoulders. "Was that your first time in bed with an older woman?"

     He moaned. "Mhm."

     Her fingers crawled from his chest hairs to his belly button. "And what did you think?"

     Calvin turned his neck to face her. His tone was suave, confident. "I think I'm never sleeping with younger women again."