12 Lawrence - And food, . . . Oh my (2/2)
For almost a month I worked my tail off. Jack was practically a quivering mass by the end. Even his assistants, a bevy of bronzed beauties, was having trouble getting a rise out of him—no matter how they teased him. However, by that time I had him so trained that he rarely sent items on needed to be sent back or to other departments and was taking the initiative to approve some items on his own.
Finally, I was in a position that I could play spy again. I started making plans. Poor Imp had done nothing for weeks and almost no laughs.
One morning as we were wallowing in breakfast, Jack surrounded with his usual harem, most of whom were still too much in awe of my title to tease me, as they did Jack. ”Jack you've got the hot seat today, I'm going to do some island hopping and see personally just how things really are around here.”
Michelle, my secretary who was devoted to Jack and him to her, (although he wouldn't admit it) was present. Michelle was especially stunning this morning dressed in a bright red floral print wraparound skirt that almost went around her. A long golden thigh thrust through the slit. Up top, Michelle was wearing just a tan with one white orchid perched magically over her right breast, the sight of which no longer affected me, or at least no more than a stunningly beautiful woman would have at home or Draco.
Michelle looked utterly feminine, especially when she stared hopelessly at Jack. Unfortunately, Michelle had been around me long enough to know that she could safely bark all she wanted and I wouldn't bite.
Today Michelle had been more than usually fearless in her innuendoes, which Imp loved at my expense. I had an epiphany and turning to her I said, ”Michelle, why don't you come along and show me the sights,” and I leered at her, my eyes raking every inch of her body.
Michelle gasped and backed into Jack's waiting arms, looking for protection. He gently enclosed her and pulled her tight, a fiercely protective look on his face.
”On second thought Jill,” she was Jack's, conservatively dressed, highly efficient, blond assistant, ”why don't you take me around. I think Michelle has something better to do today.”
Michelle blushed and looked at Jack, then tried to pull away—just as a super-saturated solution will instantly crystallize if you but add a seed—Jack's arms tightened to bands of plasteel as he accepted his fate. ”You are not leaving me ever again! You see, I love you too much to let you go,” His voice was velvet-covered plasteel fading to simple entreaty.
Michelle looked deep into Jack's eyes and lost herself in them. His bevy of beauties, realizing just what had happened, quietly broke up with soft words of congratulations to the new couple.
”The two of you have the week off. I'll have housekeeping move Michelle's things into your suite,” I said softly.
Jack looked panicky then blushed as he turned to Michelle, ”I want you for the rest of my life not just till it's not convenient—Michelle, will you marry me?”
”Of course!” Michelle said, ”I'd never expected anything less of you,” she finished with pride, a possessive tone in her voice.
I turned to Jill, ”Then we should get to work, to expedite the paperwork. Come along you two, if you are sure this is what you want?”
An hour later Ambassador D'NaTing—who could act decisively …if he had too—waddled out to preside at the chapel, situated by the edge of the bay. Michelle was radiant. The white orchid set off the beautiful golden glow of her skin. Jack who, for some reason, had worn dress whites this morning looked regal. They both looked virginal, and a little scared, although Michelle was displaying two subtle flags that she was excited.
I had no doubts that they both were virgins, even if the SADS immunization 'should' keep one from catching the virus. Once you had SAD'S all they could do was make your death more comfortable. Nowadays everyone was cautious about his or her sexual partners. Maybe that was why the flaunting of the body had moved out into the public as a reaction from the era when you hardly dared shake hands because so many people had SADS.
I mean—well take me as an example. I'd been with few women—thinking back surely no more than . . . well . . . none?
By the time the ambassador reached, ”Till death, do you part,” there was hardly a dry eye among us. Most couples just moved in together, so a real wedding was exceptional.
I turned to hand Jill another tissue. ”We have a couple of hours of celebration left, how about a swim?” I asked Jill.
”Did you notice,” Jill said dreamily, ”when Jack said 'till death, do you part, was too short a time for true love? '” I looked sideways at Jill for a moment—curiosity glinting in my eyes—then when she did not elaborate further said, ”Come on let's hit the beach and relax for a bit.”
”All right . . . Race you!”