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Author’s Note: This chapter was revised significantly in January 2014. I hated the original version. As several readers helpfully pointed out, I had misused my characters and corrupted the theme. I have invested serious time in this re-write, so hopefully it is much better. It begins the same but there are big sections that have been replaced as well as new scenes. I have also made the underlying subtext around Arthur’s character far more obvious than originally planned (another great suggestion), and will continue to do so in future chapters (which are in the works).
I hope you find this new Ch.7 delicious. Please let me know either way.
If you’ve never read the earlier chapters, do so if you appreciate a slow tease. Chapters 1 through 5 of this story appear in the Exhibitionism one for getting too drunk at the club, one for causing injury to her hosts, one for running away from the consequences of those errors, one for failing to find a more self-reliant way to weather the BART strike and lastly, just for good measure, probably one per day going forward just to account for his inconvenience in providing her room and board. She would start work Monday with a five-card deficit — IF, that is, she decided to continue the game.
He wondered how he would break the news to Doctor Yamamoto if Elise said no.
Arthur spent the next two hours furiously cleaning his entire apartment. He laundered sheets and towels, unfolded the sofa bed and made it up with a feather-down comforter, washed the windows, cleaned the kitchen and the two bathrooms, shoved every stray personal effect into his bedroom closet and vacuumed everywhere.
He realized his sofa bed had never been used before. He could still recall the argument he and his ex-wife had had about whether to pay extra for its luxury mattress option. He had wanted a cheaper version since it was unlikely to be used often, but had lost that battle with her like so many others. Now three years later he was unfolding it for the first time as a reluctant bachelor. It seemed poetic justice that his ex-wife’s predilection for expensive bedding was about to be enjoyed by a hot little intern.
“At least the money I spent will finally be appreciated,” Arthur chuckled.
Back in San Francisco, Elise was packing her suitcases. She had decided it would be best to leave most of her clothes behind in order to minimize her footprint on Doctor Peters’ personal living space. She sorted her warmest clothing into her big suitcase, which would stay at her friends’ apartment. Outside the city genuine summer weather awaited her. Only her shorts, miniskirts, underwear, gym clothes, sleepwear, candystriper uniform elements and a few t-shirts went into the carry-on suitcase headed for Doctor Peters’ place. She would carry ataşehir escort bayan all her toiletries and lotions in her backpack.
Once her bags were organized, Elise showered. After toweling off she slathered her skin with moisturizer from head to toe and pulled on a tiny string-back thong. Then she squeezed into her favorite cutoff jeans, a push-up bra and a small t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves and a long line of buttons descending from its wide neckline. She blow-dried her long auburn hair, put on delicate hoop earrings and stepped up onto some tall cork wedges. Subtle make-up around her eyes and a layer of shimmery lip-gloss completed her outfit.
Just as she was arranging her hair, the Model O chimed again. This time it brought on a smile, but nothing more.
With that, Elise bid her hung-over roommates goodbye, carried her backpack and suitcase downstairs, hailed a cab to the BART station and began her 40-minute ride to the East Bay. Doctor Peters confirmed by text that he would pick her up at the station nearest the lab at 3:30PM.
With only ten minutes to spare, Arthur threw his vacuum cleaner back into its storage cabinet and climbed into his eleven-year-old BMW 540i. All that cleaning had left him a sweaty mess. His sciatica was in total flare-up.
Elise, waiting for him under the curbside awning of the suburban BART station, waved with a beaming grin as his car pulled up. Arthur caught his breath at the sight of her. Her slender legs were entirely exposed, subtly gleaming between her steep cork wedges and cutoff jean shorts. The topmost buttons of her tight shirt appeared un-done, revealing a shadow between her small breasts that could only be the result of a push-up bra. Her navel peeked out amid two inches of bare midriff. With her long hair held back by nothing more than a pair of sunglasses, she looked adorable.
Arthur yanked on the BMW’s parking brake and leaned across to open the passenger-side door.
“Hi!” Elise exclaimed.
Arthur climbed out to help load her bags into the trunk. Elise politely resisted and together they carried her two bags clumsily to the rear of his car. By the time Arthur got them loaded and the trunk closed, he and Elise were on the wrong side of each other. She squeezed by him, briefly pressing her little body against his ursine mass. He smiled awkwardly and apologized.
Elise lowered herself into the leather passenger seat of his car. As soon her door was closed she kicked off her wedge sandals, tucked one bare foot up under her opposite thigh and turned to face the driver’s side. She leaned back against her door.
Arthur climbed behind the wheel. As they drove out into the direct sunlight, Elise slid her sunglasses down over her eyes. Arthur squinted. He escort kadıöy willed himself not to glance at Elise’s naked thighs or tiny denim shorts. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell she was watching him. She pulled her long hair forward over one shoulder and began playfully twirling the ends around her fingers.
“I talked to my mom on the way here,” Elise announced.
Arthur felt his stomach instantly knot itself into a ball and climb up toward his throat. “You… you did?”
“Yeah, I told her how nice you’re being.”
“You really talked to her? About me?”
“Yeah. She sure asks lots of questions.”
“What, um… what kind of questions?”
“Don’t worry Doctor Peters,” Elise said with a sly smile, “I remembered our deal. I didn’t mention your divorce… or where you live.”
“Oh…” Arthur said, feeling his stomach relax slightly. “Thanks.”
“Uh-huh. Anyway, she was super grateful when she heard you were taking me in during the strike.”
Arthur’s head snapped around in surprise. “You told her you’re staying with me?!”
“Sure. It made her so happy. She never liked the idea of me living in the City in the first place. She was like: ‘Ooh, what a sweetie! Give him a great big kiss for me, okay?'”
Arthur brought the car to a halt at a red light. He stared at Elise, eyes wide with incredulity, and said: “She didn’t say that really.”
Elise pulled off her sunglasses. Her hazel eyes gazed at Arthur above a smile that became subtly mischievous. Wordlessly she pressed the release button on her seatbelt receiver. She leaned over the center armrest and whispered: “Yeah. She really did.”
Then she planted a soft kiss right on Arthur’s lips.
He was too stunned to move. His heart did a backflip and his bearded face turned as red as the stop light hanging above the car.
“That’s from both of us,” Elise purred.
Arthur was frozen. His vision flickered between reality and a time long ago when Sylvia, Elise’s mom, had begged him to propose. Sylvia had kissed him like that… so many, many times during those years. A lump choked his throat. His eyes grew misty. Seconds slid by, unnoticed.
“It’s green,” Elise said.
Arthur awoke from his dream. Elise was all buckled into her seat again. She pointed through the windshield at the traffic signal, which was blazing green. Too abruptly Arthur stepped on the accelerator and released the clutch. The BMW’s rear tires chirped and Elise’s head bounced against the seatback.
“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled. He was completely unmoored. The tenderness of Elise’s kiss left a lingering buzz on his lips. His head was swimming.
Three blocks later they pulled up outside the laboratory garage’s large commercial roll-up door. Arthur pressed a remote maltepe escort to open it. Inside, next to the spot in which he parked the BMW, there was something long and shark-shaped under a dusty car cover.
“What’s under there?” Elise asked as they each extricated a bag from the sedan’s trunk.
“Oh, just an old front-engined Porsche,” Arthur replied as nonchalantly as he could. “It needs some work.”
They entered his apartment through a connecting door. Arthur set Elise’s suitcase down beside the unfolded sofa bed in his living room. She doffed her backpack and purse beside it. Arthur poured two glasses of ice water, handed one to Elise and then sat down on a kitchen barstool.
“Make yourself at home,” he offered, trying to establish an air of normalcy. “There’re some empty drawers in those built-ins if you want to unpack. And help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Later we can order-in for dinner. I, um, unfortunately don’t cook too often.”
“Thanks Doctor Peters,” Elise said with a smile before taking a long sip from her ice water. “I really do appreciate this.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Um… listen: I’ve been running around a lot today, so I’m just going to jump in the shower for a sec, okay? There’s a remote for the TV over there and just, you know, help yourself to anything.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Elise shooed him off toward the master bedroom with another big smile, telling him not to worry.
As soon as Arthur shut the door to his room he slumped against the wall and let out a long sigh, grateful for the privacy. He slid down the wall into a crouch. His eyelids drooped and his hands gathered in front of his bearded face. He could still taste Elise’s flavored lip gloss.
Something about that moment in the car with her had made his penis fat with optimism. He was terrified to admit it, but he felt as though Elise had morphed somehow into a kind of mini-Sylvia; returned across decades of time to offer him a second chance.
“Damn,” he muttered. It was either a blessing or a curse, he knew not which, but that one kiss had evaporated his contentedness and apathy. Year after year of his wasted adulthood replayed like a movie inside his mind. He felt as though he had been breathed upon by a ghost.
Elise unpacked her small supply of clothes and re-folded them into two empty drawers. She tucked her toiletries away in the half-bath off the living room. Then she kicked off her wedge shoes, hid her empty suitcase beneath the fold-out bed and curled up in the middle of its plush down comforter. It was the first bed she had been on since leaving home eight days ago.
Despite the room’s bright lighting she was asleep within five minutes.
When Arthur returned from his shower, wearing dark jeans and an old Tommy Bahama vacation shirt, he found Elise dead asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he dimmed the lights halfway. Then he retrieved a beer from his fridge. He sat down at the kitchen bar and gazed across the room at her peaceful shape.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32