Chapter 7

"I just talked with the hospital." Kelly announced as Jeff entered his office after lunch. "Your father is about the same."

"So what else is new?" Jeff asked, smiling. He dropped into the chair beside his general manager's desk.

"You're making it very difficult for me to like you," Kelly said.

"You don't have to. I'm one of those rare individuals who doesn't require the approval of his fellow man. I learned, when I was very young, that there is only one person on earth who's important to me. I am that person. As long as I please myself, that's all that matters."

Kelly was obviously shocked.

"Very well," Kelly said, straightening a stack of documents in front of him. "We have a problem. I mean to say, the company has a problem. If you don't feel you are ready to jump in with both feet, just say so, but this is the sort of matter your father would want referred to him if he were in charge."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Jeff replied, cocking his feet on the other man's desk. "Shoot."

Kelly let his lips curl in disdain.

"The problem, briefly stated, is that we've been working on a new process for combining paper pulp with certain synthetic ingredients to create a cellophane that will be strong and rigid, yet easy to tear. There's a demand for such a product to be used as a packaging material, to display articles for sale in stores. The materials available now are either too flexible and flimsy or are too hard for the customer to tear open after he has bought the product. Understand?"

Jeff nodded. Kelly's superior tone and manner amused him.

"Our research and development division has reported that their work has hit a snag. They have come up with a product which has considerable strength and it does tear, but they haven't licked the cost factor. The process is too expensive to be competitive."

"I see."

"A policy decision is called for. Should we continue with our efforts to develop this new material, which we call Glu-Pane, or should we take a new tack entirely?"

"What do you think, Kelly?"

"Quite frankly, I don't know . . . yet. I thought that perhaps you would want to take over and make the decision. Your father would if he were here."

Kelly sat back and looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes. It was obvious he believed he had put Jeff on the spot.

"Have the head of the research come and see me," Jeff said, standing up. He headed for the connecting door between their offices.

"Shall I sit in?" Kelly asked.

"No need. I'll let you know as soon as I decide anything."

He found Diane waiting in his office.

"You still here?" he asked.

"You said you wanted to see me, Mister Bardell. The job?"

"Oh, yes. Well, I'll tell you what, Diane-go back to the pool for a while. I have to talk to Miss Watson first. I'll let you know, all right?"

She looked at him as if she thought he was about to renege on the job offer. He said, "Don't worry. Everything's set."

Reluctantly she got up and walked to the door. He admired the plump sway as buttock flexed against buttocks. It would be pleasant to have that sight close at hand every day.

As soon as Diane had left, he buzzed for Miss Watson and asked her to come in. Entering the office a moment later, she looked as if she expected the worst.

"Sit down," he said, indicating the chair directly in front of his desk. There would be no fun in looking at Miss Watson's spindly legs.

She peered at him through metal-rimmed glasses, anxiously awaiting his first words. " "You worked very closely with my father, I imagine."

"Oh, yes, Mister Bardell, I did. He's such a fine gentleman."

"Perhaps. I only know him as a father."

She. was taken aback.

"Anyway, I didn't ask you in here to discuss the old man. What do you know about the Glu-Pane project?"

"It was one of your father's main interests during . . . the last few months." She sniffled.

"I see. Are you aware of his thinking on the subject?"

"Partially. I sat in on a number of discussions, taking notes. I typed several reports and inter-office memoranda."

"Mmmm." Jeff leaned back. "Give me the gist, Miss Watson. What did my father intend to do?"

"He intended to go ahead with the project, of course."

"In spite of the cost problem?"

She blinked her eyes as if she didn't understand.

"Research and Development has not worked out a way to lower productions costs sufficiently to make the product marketable," he explained.

"The last report your father had was that they would be able to do that."

"I see. All right, Miss Watson. Thanks." It was plain that she couldn't give him any help.

She started to get up, then hesitated. "Mister Bardell, perhaps I should not ask, but.. .well, you had that girl from the secretarial pool up here for such a long time, and I assume from the nature of your call to me while she was here that you were discussing my job. I wonder if there is something I should know."

"Oh, yes. Glad you reminded me. Report to the secretarial pool for a new assignment, will you?"

She stood up. "Mister Bardell!"

"Your salary will remain the same."

"Money is not the most important thing to me," she said. "I am secretary to the president of this firm."

"You were, Miss Watson. Naturally, if you don't care to stay on, I'll see that you get an excellent letter of reference."

She was about to cry, but a knock sounded at the door before the first tear trickled out.

"See who that is," he directed, "and when you go the pool office, if you do, have Miss Garner come back up."

Miss Watson fled, sobbing. She edged quickly past the woman in a gray smock who was waiting outside the door. The woman glanced curiously from Miss Watson to Jeff, then entered the office with a faint smile on her lips.

"What was all that?" she asked in a low, sexy voice as she floated to a position in front of Jeff's desk.

"I had to fire her, poor thing. Who are you?"

"Kris Svenson. I'm manager of research and development. Please excuse my appearance. I just stepped out of the lab."

Her appearance did not require excusing, even though the smock she wore was shapeless. About thirty years old, she was remarkably beautiful, her facial features strong yet finely chiseled, her blonde hair abundant with natural luster in a high swirl on top of her head. Her lower legs were well-curved, the ankles appealingly slender. Her voice carried a trace of Scandinavian accent.

"Well, well!" he said, letting his gaze tour her again.

She was amused by the obvious inspection. Her blue eyes were sparkling when his eyes finally returned to them. "If you would like me to do so, Mister Bardell, I will take off the smock. I wear only bra and panties under it. You see, it's rather warm in the lab."

He wanted to accept her offer, but they were in an office and, strangely enough, his mind now was focused on work. Anyway, the offer had been made in jest.

"That's all right, Kris. Sit down, won't you?"

She sat across the desk from him.

"Glu-Pane," he said. "Tell me about it."

For most of the next twenty minutes, he listened. Then he began asking questions, drawing the woman out on different points she had mentioned. Her answers were precise and knowledgeable. This was clear to Jeff, even though he was unfamiliar with the technical aspects of the subject under discussion.

When she had been there for nearly an hour, he leaned back in his chair and said, "Am I correct in concluding, on the basis of what you've told me, that you think the project is a washout?"

"Cost-wise, yes. In every other respect, the product is perfected."

Jeff picked up a pencil and held it in front of Mm, examining the point. "I want you to prepare a report for me, setting down in detail all cost factors associated with the ingredients and their processing. Show me where you have tried to effect reductions and how. Explain why the efforts have not succeeded. Indicate in each instance how much of a reduction would be necessary in order to meet the goal you've been aiming at."

He looked at her.

"That's a very large order," she said.

"I know it," he said with a smile. "That's why I'll allow you until noon tomorrow to have the report ready." ¦ .; ¦

She jumped to her feet. "You don't know what you're asking! There are forty man-hours of work in that job."

He kept smiling. "So put five or six men on it. Work this evening if you have to. But get it out."

She looked at him more closely. "Mister Bardell, Senior, would never have issued such an order."

"You're no longer working for Mister Bardell, Senior," Jeff pointed out, his eyes still twinkling.

Kris let one finely drawn eyebrow climb slightly, and then she turned and left the office. As he watched her got, Jeff imagined how she would have looked if the loose-fitting smock were removed. He guessed that her hips were lithe and trim. He "saw" them twisting in sheer flesh-toned panties, and sudden pressure from his balls told him that his body had recovered from his bout with Lupita. He could have taken Kris Svenson then and there.

Late that afternoon, Jeff visited the hospital. He had no real desire to see his father, so he was not disappointed when the nurse at the desk told him the old man was sleeping and could not be disturbed. The report on the elder Bardell's condition indicated no significant changes.

"Do you wish to speak with Doctor Wickam?" the girl asked.

"No. That won't be necessary." He smiled. "But I would like to talk with the nurse who was here yesterday, however."

"Which nurse is that, sir?"

"I don't know her name, but she had red hair and a nice figure."

"Oh. You must mean Pat. I believe she's gone home." The girl glanced at her watch. It was two minutes past five.

"Can you check?"

"Yes, if it's important."

Jeff assured her that it was.

He sat down in the reception room to wait while the girl at the desk used her telephone. In less than a minute Pat appeared. She was a stunning sight in green knit flares and a white loose-knit top-both garments clinging to her superbly fashioned body as if they had been applied by a paint sprayer.

"Hello, Mister Bardell," she said with a smile as she walked up to him.

He rose. "Hi, Patty. I suppose that's what they call you. Right?"

"Or Pat." She wrinkled her nose impishly as she added sourly. "Around here it's more apt to be just, 'hey you.' "

"Someone as beautiful as you? I can't believe it."

"Now ... you'd better save compliments like that for your wife."

"Let's not bring her up. The reason I stopped by was to invite you out for a drink."

"Thank you, Mister Bardell, but I don't drink."

"Oh." His voice fell. "That's too bad."

"I don't smoke, either."

"No vices at all?"

Her green eyes smoldered slightly. "Well, I didn't say that."

"Would you let me drive you home?"

She looked him up and down.

"You made a point of telling me you were married. Have you and your wife had a fight?"

"We never fight. About anything." He took her arm.

"What a remarkable marriage," she commented, looking up at him as he guided her to the door.

He admired the sprinkling of light freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He wondered if she had them all over her body.

When they reached the company car Jeff had parked on the lot at the side of the hospital, he said, "How about having dinner with me? I realize it's a little early, but I'm hungry."

"So am I," she admitted, "and I wasn't looking forward to making dinner for myself. Mother and Daddy are in San Francisco for a few days."

His optimism took an upward surge. "That's great!" he said. "I mean, I hope they're having a fine time."

Pat's eyes twinkled. "Don't jump to any conclusions. This is a very small town. The neighbors will be watching the house to see how I behave myself while the folks are gone."

"No problem," he said, when he had slid behind the steering wheel. "I don't make a point of ruining the reputations of young, red-haired ladies. By the way, is it real?"

"With these freckles, you have to ask?"

As he guided the car off the lot and made a sweeping turn in the street, Jeff smiled to himself. It had been some time since he had uncovered a real redhead.

He wondered whether the fact that Pat knew he was married would make her easier or harder to uncover. With some girls it worked one way, with some the other.

But she was having dinner with him. That was a hopeful sign.

As they drove along she said, "Since you are a married man and all, maybe it would be better if we didn't go to a restaurant in town. Do you mind?"

"No. You're more familiar with the countryside than I am. Where's a good spot?"

"The next town south of here is Danville. It's twelve miles, if that isn't too far."

"We'll make it in jig time," he said, smiling at her.

Her eyes had become serious. "It not only has restaurants, there are a couple of motels."

"Hey," he said, keeping his eyes on her, "that was supposed to be my line."

"I thought I'd make things simple for you," she explained, facing front. "Look out!"

Jeff switched his gaze just, in time to make a sharp turn as the road started winding up out of the canyon. He was excited. The girl had really turned him on.

"I guess I didn't know much about small town girls. I had the wrong idea before I arrived here."

"I'm not exactly small town," she said. "At least, I haven't been for the last couple of years. I just graduated from nurses' school in San Francisco. Since I've been back in Cannon Oaks, it's seemed like dullsville."

"Don't tell me there aren't a lot of eager young guys to date."

"There are, sure. But the way I see it, dating falls into one of two categories-sex, or a buildup to marriage. Most of the guys who've invited me out, I wouldn't marry. And if I dated them strictly for sex the word would soon get around, and that would ruin my marriage prospects among the worthwhile men. Dig?"

Jeff laughed. "So you concluded I'm safe for a sex date because I'm married and won't talk."

"Something like that."

"You're a remarkably direct girl. You think like a man."

"I had my eyes opened in San Francisco. I shared a pad with a hippie girl who was studying art. We lived at North Beach."

"Ah." '

"There were boys hanging around all the time. I fought them off for a while. But there was my girl friend, making out like mad. It gave me a twitchy feeling. Finally I thought what the hell-I'm away from home. Who will ever know? So I started to experiment. I found I'd been missing out on the greatest thing in the world."

"Why did you come back to Cannon Oaks? You probably could have gotten a better job around San Francisco."

She smiled wryly. "Well, I hadn't changed altogether. I was having conscience pangs. Finally I told myself, 'You're a tramp, Pat. The time's come to shape up.' "

"So you came back here to give your will power a break."

"Yes. Funny though-the local boys didn't treat me the same. Now I was city stuff, and they were all after me. Of course, I've got marriage in the back of my mind. What normal girl of twenty-two doesn't? But the thing is, I don't want to get married and still have to work. A girl might just as well marry rich as poor, don't you think? Especially a nurse. She has chances."

"Makes sense."

"Now I'm waiting to find the right man. But in the meantime, it's rough. My body's been hurting."

"How's your conscience-does that feel any better?"

"I don't feel any more righteous, if that's what you mean. I know I'm just kidding myself when I stay away from sex. The truth is, I like it. I've come to the conclusion that conscience is a pain without purpose-at least, where sex is concerned. It just stems from what Mama said when I was twelve. Well, that's okay for a twelve-year-old, but when you're twenty-two, things are different."

"How right you are angel," Jeff replied, cupping his hand over her hot, knit-covered crotch.

"Oh, no," she said, lifting his hand away. "Not yet. You start doing that in the car and I'm liable to say motel first and the devil with dinner. That wouldn't be good. A girl has to keep up her energy-particularly if she's thinking about expending herself in bed."

Patty talked a great game. Jeff could hardly wait until they were on the percale playing field. He was not disappointed.

The first thing he found out about Pat was that she did indeed have freckles all over her body-a light dusting of them that didn't mar the beauty of her delicate skin tone, but added a very special interest.

Point two: She was a real flaming redhead.

Point three: Patty played as well as she talked.

And, with it all, she was built like the star of a college freshman's dream. Her breasts were round and bouncy with orange-tinted aureoles that were pebbly and wide. The tips of their centers were like doorbell buttons and were orange-pink, an unusually mouth-watering shade. Her waist was slender. Her belly button pouted at the crest of a nice little hillock of flesh. She had a nice flame-colored pussy, and her buttocks were like small round pillows of foam rubber.

She had insisted on taking a shower, which gave him plenty of time to undress and climb into bed before she came out, wearing a towel. She removed this in the glow of the bedside lamp and climbed into bed beside him.

Her hand went immediately to his cock and she murmured, "It's been a long time." She was, as he had stated earlier, a direct-minded girl.

One of his hands capped her belly while the other slid under her shoulders and drew her close to him. They kissed. Her tongue was like a slippery asp, darting and curling, caressing his tongue and the sides of his mouth. He rubbed his hand around on her belly and slid it upward until it was encompassing a rich, pliant breaslt. Her emerging nipple dug into his palm.

They kept kissing as he went to her other breast and caressed that one. The second nipple came up. He leaned back for air and then threw the sheet away from them.

He cupped her far breast and looked down at it. "Lovely," he murmured.

"Are you just going to look?"

"What would you like me to do?" he teased.

"Kiss it."

He bent and obliged, letting his tongue circle. He pulled at it gently with his lips.

Pat sighed, "Oh, that drives me nuts!" Her grip on his cock tightened.

His rod was already straining hard. The erection had begun to occur when he first glimpsed her cute little pussy; it had completed its development as soon as she began fondling him. Now he was like a heavy-hung bull at the sight of anew virgin heifer.

He lifted his lips from her breast and wiggled around slightly to gain access to her other one. She helped by falling completely onto her back. He got up on his knees and bent over her. He used both hands to press her breasts together and to caress as much of them as he was not kissing at any given moment.

"Oh, I like it when a man kisses good," she breathed. "That just sends me to heaven!"

He let his lips glide down her middle. He kissed all around her navel, nibbling at the soft, freckled flesh, then touched the center of the little cup with his tongue. She wriggled and made a happy, high-pitched moan.

He raised his head and shifted his position once more. Now his cock was beyond the reach of her hand, but that was all right since she had almost made him come too soon anyway.

The trailing of his fingertips along the velvet inner slope of her thigh caused her to spread her legs and Jeff gazed down at her fluffy red pussy.

She had freckles on her inner legs and on her lower belly. He was curious to see how far the freckles went, and he examined her more closely, pulling open her cuntlips and peering into her pink slit as he brought his face very near.

"Please!" she said finally. Her voice sounded almost as if she were strangling. "Please, Jeff suck me."

He sighted upward along her body and got a glimpse of her tortured face. He grinned, "Those North Beach guys don't care what they do, I guess."

"Oh, please! For God's sake don't tease me!"

She was bucking her hips up and down, releasing a blend of perfumed soap and musky, feminine sex scent. He brought his face closer yet.

Her near leg was trapped underneath his bent body but her other leg was free and she spread that one far to the side and gave her pelvis a little upward twist. He caressed the velvet softness of her labia and she moaned. "I can't wait! I'm going crazy!"

Her coloring was delicate. Everything about her was dainty. There were many adjectives that would apply, but all of them could be summed up in one sentence: She had a succulent pussy.

He changed his position completely and ran an arm under each of her thighs, holding them at an upward tilt as his head swooped down and into her cBt. Pat squealed in happiness as his lips pressed avidly over her clitoris.

She twisted and squirmed and her legs slid up onto his shoulders. They clenched about him and sbe used them for leverage so that she could press her slit deeper into his mouth.

She mouthed wild things as he tongued her. She talked about what he was doing and how she felt and where she felt the best. The terms she used were the filthiest, but in the context in which they were used, Jeff regarded them as beautiful. The trouble was, he could not hear them very clearly, pinned between her legs as he was.

Finally she screamed, "No! Come on and fuck me, you cocksucker!"

He was up and over her, attempting to guide his cock into position, but her hand was already there, and she slid it all the way in'.

She cried and swiveled, clutching him around the back. Her hips began to pound. He hardly had to work at all, even though he was on top. He had gotten her so horny that she couldn't get enough of his cock and she couldn't get him to screw her fast enough.

He worked harder, taking over the rhythm now. There was no reason to hold back. She was so close to coming that she was due to beat him no matter how fast he went.

He pistoned his shaft around wildly, and she went off like a bomb, tossing and crying and shuddering and sobbing as he gave her his final lunges, and only then did he have his own release.

After he had swung aside, and while they were resting, she told him what a good lover he was. "You're better than those young guys I made the scene with in Frisco," she said. "They were all too quick."

"Let that be a lesson to you, young lady. Marry an older man."

"The younger ones were always better the second time," she said hopefully, beginning to fondle his limp cock.

He lifted her hand away. "Let's let it build slowly. We've got all night."

"What did you tell your wife when you called her?" Pat wanted to know.

"That I had a date and wouldn't be home until late."

"No. Really? I'm curious. I want to know what husbands say."

"You won't learn much about husbands from me," he chuckled. "I'm not very representative of the species. The fact is that I told my wife the truth. Only I didn't mention who you were, of course."

She raised herself on an elbow and her breasts swooped toward him. She studied him for a while, then said, "You know, I believe you. Any man who would be out having a ball like this when his father's dying, might just tell his wife the truth. What makes you tick, anyway?"

"The same thing that makes you tick, baby. Having fun. That's all that matters in life."

"Didn't you ever love anyone-even your parents?"

He was about to answer her with an evasive remark, as he usually did when this subject arose, but there was something about her directness that impelled him to be just as direct in return. Anyway, he wanted to hear himself say it. He wanted to let it out.

"All right. I did love someone. I loved both my parents when I was young. That was before I understood my father, and when my mother was still alive."

"How did she die?" Pat asked, evidently sensing the truth he was about to reveal.

He hesitated for a moment, then said with a voice that was hot with bitterness, "My father killed her. Oh, not directly. Not in such a way that he could be punished for it. But he smothered her with his domination. He wouldn't let her do anything she wanted to do. He managed every last detail of her life-and not because he loved her, but just because he had to run everything and everyone. One day I came home from school and found her hanging from the banister above the entry hall. I was sixteen. I couldn't ever look at the old man again without hating him."

"Maybe it wasn't his fault," Pat said softly.

"That's what I tried to tell myself at the time. But I knew it was, even then. The older I got, the more sure of it I became. He tried to smother me the same way, but I wouldn't let him. And if my life has been a monument to waste, that's exactly what he deserves. I'll laugh when they tell me he's dead."

Patty looked at him for a few moments, then eased herself out of bed. "I think we'd better get dressed now," she said softly.

Jeff agreed.