The Heir & I: Taming The Playboy

  When I slipped into the spacious, upscale cubicle that contained the restroom’s more personal accommodations, I saw a beautiful piece of porcelain furniture that on first glance anyway, looked more like a freshly upholstered porcelain chair, you know, the kind in which debutantes park their surgically sculpted rears.

  I emerged from the restroom to encounter two new visitors to this bizarrely decadent scene; one of which, of course, was a uniformed attendant that stood poised to hand me a swanky velvety towel. The other came in the form of a slender blonde who absolutely devastated in a slinky backless dress, one whose pure golden color blended in with her bronzed skin.

  “Good evening,” I nodded, smiling graciously as I approached the bank of gold-fauceted sinks that fronted the deluxe lavatory (I wasn’t even about to call this place a rest stop).

  “It will be for you,” the woman sniffed, tossing the locks of her long golden hair with a certain air of barely concealed annoyance.

  Immediately I recognized the airy, high pitched voice that flowed between the woman’s cherry red lips. Less recognizable was the cold stare and catty words that seemed to be coming from the mouth of a total stranger.

  “Do I know you?” I arched my eyebrows.

  The blonde nodded.

  “I do believe we talked briefly on the phone a few months ago,” she sniffed, folding her slender arms before her. “I’m Kelli.”

  I froze.

  “With an i?” I asked finally, nodding as my memory cleared to reveal the brief phone conversation we’d shared months earlier.

  Kelli smirked.

  “The same,” she clarified.

  I nodded, noting suddenly that the bathroom attendant was leaning her plush capped head forward at a most distinct angle, at once very interested in our conversation.

  “You used to date Oliver,” I thought out loud, slipping my hands inside the overpriced sink and activating its faucet, wondering vaguely if moderately hot water could be used as a weapon of defense—that is, if the need arose.

  Kelli threw back her flawless head, letting loose with a perfectly executed haughty laugh.

  “Yes, I used to date Oliver,” she sniffed. “But our relationship is ancient history by now. I haven’t seen him since last night!”

  Withdrawing my hands from the sink, I planted them instead on my hips and looked her straight in the eyes.

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I inclined my head in her direction.

  Reaching immediately into the blue seashell purse that hung haphazardly from her slender shoulder, Kelli withdrew a metallic cell phone from its depths and pressed a few buttons; ultimately displaying a glossy photo that told the truth of the tale.

  Standing beside Kelli was none other than Oliver Clark, my date for the evening; although his face was partially obscured as he kissed Kelli senseless.

  “I took this shot just last night, when Oliver and I hit the dance floor at Club Freak,” she sneered, shoving the phone in my face. “I’d be more than pleased to show you the photos we snapped of what happened next, but I don’t want to end up in jail for decimating pornography over my phone.”

  I grinned.

  “Decimating,” I repeated, adding as I slapped her back, “You just managed a four syllable word. I’m beyond impressed, Kelli with an i.”

  Her smirk dissolving, an enflamed Kelli shoved her phone in her purse and actually threw a silencing hand up in my direction.

  “Impressive,” I said aloud, adding as I stroked my chin in a show of deep thought. “I didn’t think that anyone over the age of twelve struck the ‘talk to the hand’ stance anymore.”

  Gasping outright, Kelli graced me with a second impressive hair flip before turning for the door.

  “What-ever.” She managed yet another brilliant comeback, adding over her skinny shoulder, “Oliver is just a little bit like a politician, isn’t he? He has his fun with the actresses and models, then insists on bringing his Jacqueline Kennedy clone to formal functions… just for show. I, on the other hand, came on the arm of the drummer in tonight’s house band. A man that is at least honest about his taste in ladies.”

  I laughed.

  “Well, all things considered, I’d say I’m doing pretty darned well tonight,” I called after her, adding with a broad beam, “I’ve been compared to Scarlett O’Hara, Vivien Leigh and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis during the course of one evening, you, on the other hand, just compared yourself to a porn star.”

  Kelli stopped stock still for a moment; silently fuming as her tiny brain made a desperate attempt to come up with a scathing response.

  “What-ever!” she finally exclaimed, making a beeline through the door.

  Bursting out into laughter, the aging bathroom attendant engaged me in a congratulatory high five as I myself turned for the door, leaving her a generous tip as I bid her goodbye.

  My beam dissolved moments later, as I headed back in the direction of the dance floor where a smiling Oliver awaited me with open arms.

  “Care for another dance?” he invited me, speaking loudly over the opening strings of a classic waltz.

  “No,” I snapped, even more loudly. “I would, however, like to have a talk. Now.”

  Soon Oliver and I found ourselves ensconced in an elegant sitting room adjoining the banquet hall; a room furnished with floral print furniture, plush carpeting and lush examples of Victorian artwork.

  Ignoring our posh surroundings, I slammed the door behind me and came to stand stock still before a silent, wide eyed Oliver.

  “Lily, what’s wrong?” he asked, shaking his head from side to side in a show of disbelief.

  I smiled, but not kindly.

  “Oh not much, Oliver,” I told him, adding with a shrug, “I just hate it when I go to take a leak and end up in a verbal confrontation with one of your girlfriends.”

  Oliver gaped.

  “Did I just hear Lily Ashton say the words, ‘Take a leak?’” He arched his eyebrows, voice barely above a whisper.

  “I just heard a no class bimbo tell me that she was in a relationship with you,” I told him. “I believe her name was Kelli?”

  Oliver relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he let loose with a round of loud, raucous laughter.

  “Well if I’m in a relationship with Kelli, it’s the same relationship that I enjoy with a great number of young women throughout this city.” Oliver rolled his eyes heavenward, adding more seriously, “As I’ve said before, Lily, I never promised to give up other women during the course of our arrangement. You knew just what you were getting into when you agreed to our set up.”

  I had heard enough.

  “You also promised to be discreet,” I reminded him. “Making out with your date on the dance floor, all the while allowing her to record your activities via her cell phone, is hardly what I would call discreet.”

  Oliver bit his lip.

  “Well I am sorry you had to see that, Lily,” he repented, shuffling his feet beneath him. “And you’re right, I did promise to be discrete.” He paused here, adding with a reassuring smile, “I promise that in the future, things will be different.”

  I nodded.

  “Well you’re right about that,” I readily agreed, adding as I lifted my chin to proud effect, “As of this evening, Oliver, I’m ending our arrangement and, for that matter, my employment in your office. I quit.”

  Oliver shook his head.

  “Lil, don’t make decisions when you’re mad,” he sputtered, holding his hands up before him in what seemed to be a defensive stance. “Don’t overreact like this—remember our agreement, and everything that you’re getting out of it. The clothes, the jewels, the dinners…”

  “The broken heart?” I interrupted him, planting my hands on my hips. “When we made our little agreement, Oliver, our bargain did not include my body or my heart.”

  Oliver nodded.

  “I am sorry that I let things get out of hand,” he allowed, adding as he looked me straight in the eye
s, “I must point out, however, that I never forced you to do a single thing you didn’t want to do.”

  “True enough,” I admitted, adding as I pointed an accusing finger in Oliver’s direction, “You did, however, say a number of things that lead me to believe that you truly cared about me—up to and including, ‘I love you.’ When we made love, you told me that you loved me.”

  Oliver froze.

  “Sometimes in the heat of passion, we say things…” he sputtered.

  “Things we don’t mean?” I snapped, looking him straight in the eye.

  Oliver nodded.

  “Don’t misunderstand me, Lily,” he released on a sigh, “I do care about you, very much, and I find you endlessly charming, kind, smart, and attractive… but you and I both know that we would never work as a couple. In fact I’m not altogether sure that I would ever make a decent husband, or even serious boyfriend, for any woman.” He paused here, adding with arms outstretched, “I would, however, like to be a better son to my father, and a top employee at his company. And just think about how deeply it will hurt him if we end our arrangement.”

  I shook my head.

  “You mean if we stop lying to him?” I countered, adding as I turned for the door, “I don’t want to hurt Harry any more than you do, Oliver—but isn’t he going to think it’s passing odd if we just keep on dating, without ever moving in together, getting married, vacationing together, etc.? And what if he happens to see you out with another woman? This isn’t going to work, Oliver, for any of us, especially not for me. Perhaps it’s time he learn the truth about you, Oliver, just as I have.”

  “Wait!”

  Rushing to catch up with me, Oliver placed two hands firmly on my shoulders and pinned me with an imploring gaze.

  “What am I supposed to do without you, Lily?” he asked, his fingers digging into my arms as he pouted profusely. “What will happen to our office, to all our projects? What will happen to me?”

  Shaking off his hands, I stepped around him and cleared the room in a few smooth strides.

  “Frankly my dear,” I said over my shoulder. “I don’t give a damn.”

  Lily

  After spending a near sleepless weekend perusing the wanted ads of my local newspaper and pointedly ignoring Oliver’s calls, I trudged with slow, reluctant steps into my office on Monday morning; appearing just before 9 a.m. to collect my personal belongings and be on my way.

  I just couldn’t believe it had come to this—that all of my hard work and dedication could possibly result in this convoluted mess of a situation.

  I never should have agreed to Oliver’s ridiculous plan, I sighed, facing my good old reliable work desk for the last time. I knew him—and myself—better. I allowed my emotions to cloud my better judgment, which is something I swore I’d never do.

  Clearing my desk surface and its drawers with a low, dispirited sigh, I froze as I heard a loud bump emanate from Oliver’s office.

  And here I was hoping he’d come in hideously late, like the good old days, and manage to miss my visit altogether, I sighed, nonetheless lifting my chin and squaring my shoulders as I turned in the direction of an office door that seemed poised to open. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I’m more than prepared to face him this morning—along with any arguments or obstacles that he might try to place between me and the office door.

  My mouth fell agape moments later, as that door opened to reveal the elder Clark. Immediately Harry and I exchanged friendly smiles—although mine, admittedly, was a bit forced and strained as he stepped into my work space.

  “Good morning Harry,” I greeted him, adding with a sheepish grin, “You’re probably wondering as to why I’m cleaning out my desk this morning…”

  “Don’t say another word, Lily,” Harry interrupted, holding his hands up before him. “I overheard your argument with my son at the chamber of commerce banquet.”

  I froze.

  “You did?” I whelped through gritted teeth. “Really?”

  Harry chuckled.

  “With your volume, Lily, I suspect that the folks that live three streets overheard your little exchange,” he deadpanned, adding as he rubbed his temples at the memory, “If not three states. And I must say that my son deserved every word of it. As much as I hate to say it, Oliver can be such a jerk at times—such an out and out cad. I cannot believe that my son put you in such an uncomfortable position—asking you to lie to me, and everyone around us, for the sake of some stupid ruse. He honestly thought he could deceive me into thinking that he was a changed man.”

  Lily sighed.

  “Well in some ways, Harry, I do believe he has changed,” I revealed. “His work performance has improved tenfold, he shows up on time, he’s even getting new clients for the business. And I also sincerely believe that he loves you and, for that matter, that he loves and misses his mother very much.” I paused here, adding with a hefty sigh, “On a personal level, though, he hasn’t changed enough to save our relationship, that is, our arrangement, that is, whatever the hell has been going on here these past few months. And, although I hate to say it, I can’t continue to work by his side, not for one more day.”

  Harry nodded.

  “I understand, Lily; no one could rightfully expect you to feel any differently,” he allowed, adding as he rolled his eyes heavenward, “Heck I brought the guy into the world, and I’m not sure if I want to work with him one more day.”

  Lily chuckled.

  “Well since he has improved so much in the past months, I suggest that you keep him on the pay roll, and—for that matter—in the family,” I grinned, but only briefly. “I’m afraid, however, that he will have to find a new personal assistant. As much as I hate to say this, today will be my last day at Clark Industries.”

  Harry shook his head.

  “Nonsense, Lily, you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to lose one of my best employees because of my son’s foolishness. He may not realize what a treasure he has in you—but, believe me, I do,” he told me, raising an authoritative finger for emphasis. “This is a big company, and I have plenty of executives that would appreciate the services of a top notch personal assistant. You could continue to work in this same building, but in a different wing, enjoying a new job with an increased salary, and never have to come in contact with Oliver.”

  Immediately I froze, the words “increased salary” prompting me to set aside my packing box just for a moment.

  “After everything that has happened, you seriously want me to stay on with the company?” I asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

  Harry nodded.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong Lily,” he reminded me. “As I said earlier, I am not going to allow my son’s irresponsible actions to cost me one of my best employees. I want you to stay put, Lily and instead of taking that rather unwieldy packing box all the way down to your car, why not just move it up to office no. 432, just one floor up from this one?”

  “Office 432?” I yelped, nearly dropping the blasted box square onto my toes. “Isn’t that the office of Trisha Vance, the head of marketing? That woman is a legend in the field and aside from all the projects she oversees here, she’s the president of the Women in Marketing Association. I can’t tell you how much I admire Trisha.”

  Harry beamed.

  “The one and only,” he affirmed with a nod. “She is currently in need of a new marketing assistant. I think that you two strong, feisty women would have a great time working together and coming up with new ideas, not to mention putting a fresh new spin on projects and procedures that this company was built on. I can’t wait to see what the two of you have to come up with in terms of exciting new projects for our company. That is, Lily, if you accept my offer.”

  “I accept!” I bellowed, running forward to engage a laughing Harry in a vigorous handshake. “Absolutely, and without reservation!”

  Harry guffawed outright.

  “Well Lily, I do believe I’ll accept that response as a tentative, co
nditional acceptance of my offer,” he deadpanned, adding as he slapped my back, “Now head on up to Trisha’s office and get to work! Pronto!”

  ***

  Two weeks later

  “So Lily, tell me what you think. Hit me with another one of your amazing ideas!”

  Sitting before the polished cherry wood desk of Trisha Vance, I took a moment to reflect on what a marvelous turn my professional life had taken in the past 14 days.

  I now served as an executive marketing assistant for the amazing Trisha Vance; and I was just that, her assistant—not her surrogate mother, her ‘brains behind the scenes,’ her damage control specialist, or her foil.