From Jenny to Mei Ch. 25

Markéta felt something melt within and tried not to sigh or laugh in delight. "That is..." she paused to assure herself she remained in control, "... precisely what I want, too."

"We'll sit in a coffee shop all afternoon, right off the plane, and I'll tell you all about how wonderfully messed up my life is until I pass out from the jet lag."

Controlling the brightness of her smile she looked at the image of the lovely young Chinese-American girl and relaxed. And rather than abandoning her fears, she shunted them aside for a moment, wondering how Mei Chun's voice could make an American accent seem charming for once. And then she felt a kind of transformation take place, the kind prompted by confidence. Mei had said exactly what she had hoped she would. She knew herself well enough to know that had Mei Chun confessed to an eternal love and obsessive passion her interest would have slowly turned to revulsion. She felt it odd that even knowing this predilection she couldn't do anything about it. She hated being wanted... or rather, hated being worshiped, unless it was by someone she respected. And she didn't know Mei Chun well enough yet, not for the esteem necessary for reciprocity. She desired her, of course, but respect? Not yet. In time, certainly, unless she was disastrously wrong, but knowing someone like that couldn't be done via video chat and text messaging.

"Of course, Mei Chun. We will have the most fabulous time! Will you let me take you everywhere? See everyone? When will you arrive? There's a Mandarin here in Paris as well. What suite did he take in San Francisco?"

Mei thought she had the most adorable accent when she said San Francisco like that. The syllables in 'Francisco' grew in pitch until the 'o' seemed to pop out of the top of her voice.

"The big one with a balcony."

"My goodness. I must meet this Philip of yours."

"He's a dream."

"When, darling?"

"Probably next week, I guess. I'll find out and email you."

"Wonderful. For how long?"

"Probably two weeks or so but maybe I'll be there for a few more days."

"Wonderful. I have so many people I wish for you to meet. I'm glad you told me. We'll arrange the most fabulous day trips and shopping for your friends. Oh my, Mei Chun, we'll have such fun!"

They talked on for a few more minutes, catching up, then, reluctantly, said their goodbyes.

When she'd rung off Markéta took a moment to compose herself. She tried to review the call but her, now full, heart had pushed aside most of the details. What was clear was that Mei Chun had real feelings for her, and was having sex with a lot of people, which didn't concern her as much at it might have. For a moment she wondered why that was. Perhaps it wasn't real to her, not having met any of them. She cast aside the question of other lovers and reviewed, then dismissed, her fears about the imbalance of emotion. Had not she just said how she thought about her messages and taken 'Like, forty photos' of herself before sending them. 'My god, she even makes that detestable 'like' thing American girls say seem adorable.'

What dominated her memory of the call was that she would be in Paris soon. This, she thought, was so good on a couple of different levels. Not only did she ache to see her little Asiatique but the distraction would be very welcome. She'd had several sessions with Pierre now and each one more intense than the last. He would always call her later telling her how wonderfully he felt and how he must, absolutely must, see her again at the earliest possible moment. To have Mei and her friends visit would be just the subtle reminder to 'Le President' that Markéta had a life of her own.

'And I will finally know if I have built her into some fantasy or if I truly care for her.'

Yet, the prospect that she might have been mistaken, that her heart had taken a wrong turn, caused her pulse to quicken. It would be a disaster should she suddenly find out that Mei Chun were some foolish, shallow little American nothing. The prospect of some scene playing out in a café or a well attended soirée made Markéta's pancreas crinkle but nothing worth having was without dangers of that kind. And, she considered, finally knowing, finally settling her heart would be such a relief.

She reviewed what she knew and what she felt. Mei Chun was, she was sure, at the very least, a charming, sexy and adventurous girl. She would find out if there was more and if her own feelings were an illusion. 'And I get to make love to her again and again. This will be perfect.'

##########

He was looking at Ai and she was looking at him as the elevator descended. It was one of those moments in a new relationship when a spark of silliness made the air crinkle like the atmosphere after a thunderstorm. Their smiles grew and their feelings for each other became physical reactions on their skin: grins, blushes, and goose flesh. And, as though God himself were playing along, Ai's phone began to vibrate and chime.

"Look at that," she said, getting out her phone and pointing the screen at him, "one o'clock."

The notification on her screen said: "Time to fuck Ai!"

The door opened at the lobby. Exiting, she turned left away from the front entrance and pushed open the double doors to the service hallway that lead to the loading dock. With purpose she checked door knobs until she found one that turned under her palm. Electrical/Mechanical was printed on the door.

"Ai," he protested, but she marched in like she was the superintendent and flicked the light switch off as the door closed behind him.

The room was hot, dark, with a low hum from the electrical equipment. He saw her move forward by the red lights on a large floor mounted transformer and a light blue glow from an HVAC control board. She slipped off one sneaker, drew a leg out of her pants and gathered it off the floor. While reaching down to put her shoe back on she looked back she said, "Fuck me quick and dirty. I really need to come." She spat on her hand, rubbed her pussy and leant forward. "Quick and dirty and hard."

Thirteen minutes later she staggered into the hallway, squinting at the lights and noticing the air was much fresher in the corridor.

"Nice finish," she said as he cinched his belt at the doorway.

"Thanks. And thanks for not leaving a mess."

"Mmm, sure." She spun to look at him. "Wait, you don't think I drank your semen because I didn't want to leave evidence, do you?"

"Um."

"Baby," she snuggled under his right arm, "I love your cum."

While he weighed the possible responses to a statement like that, she continued. "I mean not in, like a sexy way either. That too, I mean totally sexy, your cum that is... it's, like, way sexy and all, but, it's more than sexy... it's like cement, or epoxy I guess."

'What the fuck is she talking about?' he wondered.

"Binding us together," she turned to lead him out to the loading dock on the way to his car, "like it's your essence. Like, your whole DNA. Like, I could make a million little Philips from the goo that's gliding down my esophagus right now."

"Um..." He asked himself if it was her that was strange for talking like this or if it was himself for feeling awkward.

"And it's not just your baby batter... I mean it's white, salty, potassium rich... it's a superfood! Fructose, fatty acids, proteins, magnesium, vitamin B12, not to mention zinc and spermine, which is totally awesome for the skin."

He noted that she was piling it on rather heavy, then worked out that she was completely sincere.

"Yeah, your spooge is at the top of my food pyramid. I mean if women knew what cum did for their skin they'd blow their man's load on their wrinkles three times a day." She swung his hand in hers as they approached his car. It made her feel young and frivolous. "Cleopatra knew."

"Ya don't say?"

"Yep, chick had her secrets. Landed the two most powerful men on the planet."

"And ended up with an asp."

She let go his hand and reached back to slap his jeans. "You've got a nice asp." She squeezed his butt cheek. "Cleopatra would'a snapped you up."

They got in and drove downtown for their meeting with Karla at the lawyers, all the while making asp quips and laughing together.

##########

Sarah supposed it was a case of delayed reaction. Mei Chun had told her her plan three days ago and it was just now sinking in. She had offered to lend Philip to her for the purpose of making her pregnant. Her exact words were, "I want him to knock you up."

She received it as though she thought it was meant as a joke, but Mei Chun had quickly dispelled that impression. As she listened in stunned, drop-jawed silence, Mei Chun went on and on about the benefits. Sarah's immediate reaction was puzzlement, wondering what this girl wanted. Did she want to catch Philip trying to cheat on her? Was she subjecting her to the most cruel joke ever?

Then she decided her motivation didn't matter. The idea, and not a new one either, that Philip would be the ideal father, was revived and now seemed more true than ever. Putting aside his wealth and what that would mean for raising a child, she thought about his inheritable characteristics. He was handsome in a conventional way, which she preferred to the exotic variety. He was intelligent, warm, witty and responsible, even if he had gone to prison. He was... she searched her mind to find a word that fit her emotions... 'male.' It meant more to Sarah than the word alone might suggest. She had a thing for men so applying the noun to him was a totaling. He was very, very male, all the good things about his half of mankind contained in one person. 'Strong, loyal, trustworthy, masculine, '... and,' she thought, 'my best fuck ever. Just making the kid, practice sessions and all, would be just what I need right now.'

And now that the idea was confronted and a small spark of hope gutted and popped in her heart, she felt her mood lift slightly. Joke or not she was going to hold Mei Chun to the conversation and see if Philip would agree.

##########

"So you think? I mean it would fit, right, the Democrats changing their symbol?" Ai asked as he opened her door.

"They're not going to change it to a snake."

He held out his hand for her to take.

"An asp. I never figured out why it was a jackass in the first place. I mean, hello? Bald eagle, ok, lion or tiger or bear, got it; why a jackasp?"

"It's a donkey." He held her hand as she stepped down from the old Range Rover.

"Donkey, jackass. What's the diff? Talk about a screwed up marketing campaign." She kissed him in thanks.

They walked toward the elevator in the basement garage of Philip's lawyers. The door opened and he pushed her with his hand on her jeans pocket. "Get your asp on the elevator."

It was more of the same on the ride up, more fun, more giggles from her and radiant smiles from him. They both knew this was one of their founding moments, one they would remember longer and with more fondness than the sex an hour before.

It ended with a final, "Don't be an asphole!" From Ai as the floor chime sounded and the doors slid open.

They stepped out of the wood paneled elevator and saw Karla in one of the red leather wingback chairs in the reception area of Urban & Michelson. He remembered long hours sitting in that very chair waiting for his father to finish one or another of the uncountable meetings with his lawyer, Jack Urban. It was that chair in which he waited before the reading of his father's will that left him a fortune he didn't deserve. It seemed fitting that Karla, about to be a secondary beneficiary of his father's estate, was sitting there now.

Philip took in the view of the lovely Karla with hardly a second glance. She wore plain white jeans and what looked like a simple pale blue collared shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He didn't even notice the jacket until she lifted it from the arm of the chair and folded it over her forearm.

Ai saw things differently. She identified a women dressed in her best. The ultra light button-front chambray looked crisp but soft and stylish. The jeans were ankle skinnies, sexy but completely within bounds, especially since the shirttail covered her ass. The simple black flats were classy and expensive. She wore a single strand of pearls with matching earrings and wisely left off the rings and bangles. And the blazer she draped over her handbag was linen, the really nice, well-worn linen that indicated it was Karla's favorite outerwear. Ai knew she wouldn't be putting it on, as her shirttail would hang below the hem, making her look like a duck, but she could not fault her for choosing it as an accessory. Her bag was a nice black Coach mini bag that was comfortingly practical and refined. She dressed to show Philip that she wasn't just a masseuse with ambition, that she was serious and mature.

Unfortunately, it was wasted on him. All he saw was a beautiful redhead in a comfy shirt and sexy white jeans, sitting in a chair that had way too much history.

The moment the receptionist spotted Philip enter she stood and moved forward to lead them into the partner's conference room.

"So, you're starting another company, Philip?" Jack Urban said as he entered a few moments later. "Miss Ma," he nodded and beamed at Ai.

"Yep."

"With another lovely partner, I see. Congratulations."

Philip introduced Karla and everyone sat down at the table.

"We're starting a ladies spa. Health spa and... or beauty spa. Not health spa as in gym but more as a ... uh..." He looked at Karla.

"It's more of a rejuvenation center. A place for clients to relax, refresh and be pampered."

"I see, wonderful," the old lawyer said to Karla but let his gaze wander over Ai.

"So what's the name of the spa, Karla?" Philip asked.

"Nyx."

Everyone looked at her quizzically.

"The Greek goddess of night," she said. "I want every woman to bring out their sensual inner goddess." The room remained silent. "We could spell it Nox, which is the Roman version if that's better."

The two men looked to Ai. "Nox would be easier to pronounce," she said. "It sounds like the color black. I like it."

"I like it," Philip agreed.

So NOX Spaworks LLC, was born. They went through the whole process of signing papers and Karla's excitement grew with each stroke of the pen.

After that, Philip discussed ways to hide his ownership stake in FMI, remembering Tim's warning. Luckily nothing had been submitted yet and the change took just a few moments. After twenty minutes Philip's phone rang and he stepped out to take the call.

"Mitch... Yeah... That's great. Ok. I'm at Urban & Michelson now... No, not buying, it's for something else... Ok, when can he close?... Right, great. Listen, I'll get Jack to draw up the usual purchase agreement and handle the title and so forth... What's that?... No, my trust will be the buyer... Hey, Mitch, thanks for your help on this. Shall we put the commission toward your favorite charity or you want cash?" Philip laughed heartily at his answer. "Ok... you sure? College fund for your boy?... Alright, Children's Hospital it is... Hey, I almost forgot, do you know any interior designers?... Right, ok, I'll check my email. Listen, thank you my friend."

He returned and told Jack Urban, namesake of the firm, that there would be an additional transaction this afternoon and left with the girls, Karla holding two manila envelopes to her chest, beaming with pride.

"So you got it?" Ai asked as they waited for the elevator.

"Yep."

"Got what? What was that about?" Karla asked.

"Philip bought a love nest for Tim."

"Not for Tim. He'll use it but it's mine, ok?"

"Right..."

"I can't wait to see it."

"Oh my god, the view!" Ai exclaimed.

"I don't think so, Karla. You'll have to talk to Tim about that."

"But..."

"It's only fair... let him decide. I'm sure it's only a matter of time."

The elevator doors opened.

"Hey," Ai turned to Karla, who was holding Philip's hand, "wanna go to Paris?"

Philip was surprised that Ai seemed so excited. She hadn't reacted to the idea which as much enthusiasm at breakfast.

"What?" Karla said.

Philip spoke, "Mei wants to see Markéta. Well, actually it was my idea."

"Wow, Paris. But she told me you never met her."

"No, I haven't. But it'd be like a break and before you two get too busy with your companies."

"Like a celebration of our new lives together. Kinda a honeymoon," Ai said with a smile.

"I'd love to. Oh my god - Paris!"

The doors opened to the garage and they made their way to his car.

Karla wanted to make a quip about how filthy rich he was but remembered Ai's preference not to think of him that way. Philip wondered what Karla was thinking and Ai pondered what kind of tablecloth to get for the kitchen table in the 'big Victorian house' they would have in a few years.

They got in his car and Ai, seated behind Philip, leaned forward and caught Karla's attention. "Love your outfit."

"Really? It's just..."

"It's so great on you."

Karla had wanted affirmation but she hadn't realized it until that moment. It wasn't easy doing what she was doing and getting a simple complement, and the emotional connection that came with it, was very welcome. For a guy, she figured, going into business was something that was, if not expected, then understood. Being a young woman the whole idea just seemed so much more risky, more fraught with emotional peril. Plus, it didn't help that she was having her dream financed by a rich guy who shared his girlfriend with her. That's what frightened her more than anything, wasting Philip's money and looking like a fool.

Philip started the car and they set off for the bank.

##########

Dr. K had to admit Mei Chun's plan was working. It wasn't that he didn't ruminate on his son's illness, he did, but the image of the lovely little Asian girl giving him head kept popping in and out of his mind. Since the meeting in his office and writing the letter thanking her but declining her offer, he kept coming back to the issue. Of course, he would love it. His libido was strong for his age and that medication gave him new vigor. But, he just couldn't. She was barely twenty and he was forty years older. He had his dignity to consider. Still, it would be easy enough. He saw her alone frequently throughout the day and there were plenty of vacant exam rooms. She was certainly eager, it seemed. He wondered what his wife's spirit would be thinking, what she would tell him were she able to communicate. She forced him to swear to her before she died that even though he thought himself too old, that he would take romance where he could when she was gone.

That morning he'd watched her come in through the employee door as he got his second cup of coffee. Her smile and wink caused his stomach to lurch. He always thought she was a pretty thing and the new clothes she had gave her a look of sophistication she hadn't had before.

He caught himself imagining her removing that expensive skirt, taking time and care not to crease it, of her bare shoulders and the color of her skin. He saw her mouth open, the color and shine of her just-licked lips. The image lurched forward in time and he saw his penis half crammed inside her from behind, his hand on her petite shoulder and the ink black of her hair as it shimmered along her back.

"Fuck..." he thought, "so..."

He sighed with anger. 'How can she do this to me?' And then thought yet again how her plan was working; he hadn't fretted about his son for as least ten minutes. It caused him to smile to himself and silently thank Mei Chun. 'But I can't...'

##########

At the bank Ms. Cash was asked to open another two accounts.

"Same as yesterday, Ms. Cash, but with a million in initial deposit please."

"Jesus Christ!" Karla blurted out.