Harry's Protégé Ch. 11

Duncan's eyes hooded and he looked a little alarmed, whereas Peter's snapped into focus: he was in professional mode.

"I guess you mean personally or are you so insanely jealous of her success that you want her shifted out of editorial?"

"The former."

"I thought as much."

"I didn't," said Duncan now smiling. "That makes me very relieved."

"It easy to handle young man," Fishhead soothed. "Two minutes flat and we'll be back discussing wines, gambling, women and fine dining. I detect your problem with her is emotional. You need to switch out of that and analyze your current relationship and any thoughts you have about a future relationship with her as if dealing with a business issue.

Determine whether she would be an asset to possess, how much it would cost in terms of upkeep and in this instance personal pain. Think about the relationship from her viewpoint, and then crunch out your decision, not forgetting to figure out what she would bring to you if making such an acquisition."

"Brilliantly presented Fishhead, although I'm not too keen about having my daughter regarded as a tradable commodity, but it should enlighten this young man."

"Thanks guys," Harry managed, wondering how Sierra would have reacted had she overheard this conversation. "She's such a difficult critter to handle; I agree I must take unconventional steps. Look I must return to work, check that everything is going well and then retreat to a dark corner and contemplate my navel."

The two older men waved him off, pleased to have successfully offered fatherly advice.

"He'll be a great son-in-law," Duncan smiled.

"Agreed, and has the ability to rein her in, which is what she needs," Fishhead smiled. "Do you think they will tie the knot?"

"Who knows? But they'll have sex if they are not already into it. What's your opinion?"

"He hasn't managed to nail her yet, because if he'd had he'd be hanging around her like a puppy," Fishhead said, rubbing his chin and waving away the waitress who wanted to bring another bottle. "And marriage - if I were you I'd order your new suit now to avoid a last-minute rush."

"Really? Do you think the wedding will be this year?

"Yes?"

Duncan licked his lips. "How much are you prepared to wager on that prediction?"

Back at the office, Harry told the weekend PA he didn't want to see anyone or take any calls for the next two hours and shut his office door. He phoned his mother for her opinion, but she was out. Betsy was the only person home and without thinking he began talking to her about Sierra.

"Oh God, it's that woman who's been on TV isn't it?"

Harry said yes, her tone making him wish he'd not started that conversation.

"Don't bring her to see me Harry. She's definitely the kind of person I would love like I did Teresa, and you know where that got us. If she befriended me and you messed up again it will kill me."

"Then deal with it yourself - keep away or run for the hills if I bring her home. This is life we're talking about here Betsy and in real life bad things can happen including things beyond our control."

Betsy began crying, saying she didn't like it when he talked to her like that.

"If you were a nurse Betsy, occasionally one of your patients would die, no matter how hard you tried to save her, right?"

"Yes it's so sad, isn't it?"

"Agreed but if you wish to remain in nursing you would have to rev up and get on with the job, recognizing life goes on."

Betsy said yes and realized where this was heading. "You're saying I wear my heart too close to the surface."

"Yes and it's in danger of blighting your life."

There was a long silence and Harry, shifting uneasily in his seat prepared to announce he'd better end the call.

"What do you want to know from me?"

"I need a women's point of view. Can you mostly listen while I explain how a potential great romance is being stifled because of obstinacy between Romeo and Juliet and..."

"Sorry to interrupt Harry, but you're talking to the wrong person; you should be talking to her. Can't you see that? If obstinacy is the real blockage give as much as it takes to free it. I saw quite a bit of your colleague on TV and the truth is Harry she probably needs you more than you need her. She'll know this. If it wasn't for her professionalism and huge intelligence she'd be running around like a headless chicken - she's in danger of being a lost soul Harry."

It was Harry's turn to remain silent for a long moment.

"Jesus Betsy what are they teaching you at that university?"

"I taking a computer graphic arts course Harry - remember? It takes a near lost soul to recognize another but you pulled me back from that Harry - remember? That was only a few weeks ago, and now Rickie has come into my life. It's the best thing that's happened to me for a very long time. I have you to thank for that."

"That's great and I'd like to meet him."

"He's doing journalism and will be impressed to meet you Harry but you'll slay him if you introduce him to your assistant. He's going on as if she's Saint Sierra. Can you fix that for me; I would like that."

"Yes, sure and I'd love to do that. But first I need to make my peace with her; I was angry she became involved in that risky operation while I was away and without informing me. "

"She's in temporary retreat."

"Don't worry; she'll call you when she's ready."

Sierra had already done that but intrigued he asked his sister, "How do you know that?"

"Christ Harry you can be so thick at times. Don't you understand women?"

"If she knows she needs you she will call as soon as she's ready, today I'd predict as that is when I would surface after going through what she's went through Wednesday and Thursday. Just be patient Harry, that's a good boy."

Harry was shocked to be spoken to like that by a woman nine years his junior, his baby sister, but he bit his lip.

"Thanks for all this Betsy. I spent hours helping you with your homework and now I feel you have returned that back with interest, talking to me like this. I can't believe you're younger than me."

"It's like wine Harry. Some men take quite a time to mature."

"Thanks and I must get back to my work."

"Thanks to you too Harry. I've now decided I want to meet her. Don't procrastinate - and remember she'll be at her most vulnerable right now."

Harry buried himself in paperwork and remained on edge through the evening. Eventually he reviewed that earlier conversation with Sierra.

He'd attempted to give the impression he was quite cool about this and not too pleased about her failure to confide in him but instead patiently allowed her to try to justify her actions.

They got through that crisis, both undertaking to keep each other better informed and she repeated her call to come to her. He accepted, though moaning about the early hour, aware that reasonable people would have said 9:00 at the earliest for a Sunday morning meeting.

* * *

Harry set off a little earlier than necessary to ensure he didn't arrive late but was too early and stopped in the middle of a rat-shit village. Two minutes later a solidly built woman in an ultra-short nightdress burst out of the doors of the pub, carrying a shotgun.

"Clear off stranger if you don't want a load of lead up your ass," she threatened.

Harry took off in a wheel spin, covering the stroppy bitch in dust.

The cabin looked built by amateurs but oozed character and Sierra rushed out dressed in a bikini much smaller than her smile.

"Oh you clever boy - you found me," she cooed," and they kissed like brother and sister, except their lips met, slightly opened and moist.

"A beautiful kiss for so early in the morning," Harry complimented.

"Oh what a cute whatever it is - old, I'm sure," she said, eyeing Harry's vehicle.

"Bessie meet Sierra - she's cute, sometimes. Sierra, meet Bessie - she's a 1939 one ton pickup and she's cute all the time."

"Oh Harry I think I'm jealous. Run inside and change - we're going fishing."

"But it's almost dark, the fish won't see us," he joked.

"They navigated by sight and smell of bait but don't worry, the sun will come up as we chug on our feeble outboard into the main channel."

"But sun-up is an hour away at least."

She smiled and said he wasn't very worldly and with a chuckle planted a light kick on to his rear. She went over to Bessie and patted her affectionately.

Harry liked seeing that.

The eastern sky began to lighten as they left the beach, and seven minutes later, helped by the push of the tide they reached her favorite fishing spot.

"I'll get my bait out then help with yours," she said.

"This is perfection in slow motion," Harry sighed, stretching and watching the first brighter rays of sunlight painting the water ruffled by a wispy breeze.

"Now I'll show you what to do," Sierra, said authoritatively, unaware that Harry had been hooked on fishing at the age of four.

Eyes sparkling over a mouth holding a half-hidden playful smile, he'd decided not to enlighten her.

She leaned forward to grab his rod tip.

He instinctively shifted in his seat to get the best view down her bikini top.

"Now, I'll bait you hook and..."

She jerked upright as if aware where his gaze was but said nothing.

Was she touchy or what?

"What were you saying?" he coaxed.

"Sorry I was distracted. I'll bait your hook and you cast out on that side," she said, pointing to port.

"Nah, don't bother as it will be a waste of time."

"Why do you say that? I thought you'd enjoy fishing with me and taking home our breakfast."

"I will, but not here otherwise they will be no fish landed today."

"Don't be silly, Harry - this is our secret spot, no place better in the harbor as daddy surveyed the harbor in the launch with his depth finder and we found this hole."

"It is not usual for fish to bite when sharks are about."

"Now that I believe, but we don't get sharks in this harbor for some reason."

"I've seen a couple."

"Come on, Harry, the light is playing tricks on you, I'm sure...oh fuck, it's longer than our boat," Sierra said, her complexion turning the color of milk and she moved back in from the side as if that would make her safer.

"You should have oars in this dinghy for back-up and I could have used one to whack the shark - it's a mother with a young 'un. Harmless probably, but then again it could be a Grey Nurse sometimes known as the Sand Tiger Shark."

Sierra reeled her line in.

"Do you mind if you go back in?"

"No not at all but what will we eat for breakfast?"

"I'll find something; probably we'll have a tinned breakfast."

"Tinned shark?"

She didn't think that was funny.

They are almost at the beach when Harry asked Sierra to cut the motor.

With mother shark presumably safely behind, cruising up harbor, she was the patient fishing tutor again, looking gorgeous in her cheap bikini with a generous display of flesh that agitated mothers want covered up even when daughters are independent adults.

Harry was a guy who approves of women who disapprove of the opinion of mothers like that and said he liked her bikini.

Sierra said thanks and automatically looked down at it only to find there wasn't much to see and blushed like a teen, filling Harry's heart with strange feeling.

She glanced at him through lowered lashes, crossed her arms defensively, and said her piece.

"We don't fish here as the crabs steal your bait and the water is too warm for fish at this time of year."

Harry, wanting those arms uncrossed sitting back, shoulders squared and arms apart holding a rod and looking like the Goddess of Fishing, said his piece.

"Just let it drift; it looks good for sea perch here."

"Not here in the languid shallows but we catch them off the beach just beyond the surf."

Harry, who could see the bottom being swirled by tidal current, baited up.

Sierra the Goddess of Fishing said the piece of bait was far too big.

He hooked a fish and hauled it in. "Oh my, a sea perch," he grinned.

"It made a mistake by taking bait too big for her."

Sierra the Goddess of Fishing muttered something about 'beginner's luck' and smiled at his triumphant look of a smart-ass fisher, misinterpreting it as a boyish grin of a city novice catching his first-ever real haul of fish.

Her fiddling with her bikini top increased as she watched him quickly land two more and listen as he yawned and said without an I-told-you-so tone in his voice: "Do you want to go - we have enough for a big breakfast here?"

They landed and Harry said he'd attend to the dinghy. She didn't argue.

Harry flipped over the boat, chained it to the stanchion and was up behind her carrying the outboard motor. He landed a cuff of her butt, making her squeal as she was walking up the three steps. "How did you get here so fast?"

"I move fast."

"Did you flip the dinghy?"

"Yes."

"Did you chain it to the stanchion and check it was securely locked?"

"Yes."

"Well then, what took you so long," she giggled, leaping up the steps and out of reach.

He came up behind her at the bench. She tensed as if expecting to be fondled.

Instead he bumped her aside with his hip and said, "Take the motor and allow me to do the messy bit. Heads off, fins off, guts out, scaled and left to pan fry whole with skin on?"

"Yes as a matter of fact. I'm impressed."

"Go and shower, I'll get breakfast."

Sierra was drawn into the kitchen/living room by the delicate smell of lightly grilled fish.

"I've done it in butter, but only a bit, taking you to be a diet conscious person and found some frozen shrimps in the freezer which I tossed in first, found the tomatoes and some diet biscuits - it seems you are a little short of real food here."

"You can get a greasy meal on the way out at the pub."

Harry turned and licked his lips, not attempting to conceal his naked look that surpassed admiration: she was dressed befitting a man's concept of a seductress, in a soft orange shirt knotted high, no bra, an expanse of belly and a then a brief multi-green wrap-around, presenting a great length of impressive leg, er, legs.

"You look gorgeous.

"I'm glad you like it. I dressed for you."

They ate their fish leisurely, the atmosphere at the table almost tense, neither of them lying that the fish was sensational. The freshness and light cooking should have drawn comment but from her silence Harry figured it was because of the absence of parsley - he should have asked where to find it...and if there was a lemon tree somewhere. Damn, his attempt to impress as a handy cook had failed.

He broke the silence.

"Coffee?"

"No thanks."

"Bed?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

"Yes."

Unable to believe it, Harry found himself mortified, worrying if he were witnessing RIP for the Age of Romance, with her showing no excitement and answering with apparent disinterest, as if about to do a chore she'd do with a yawn.

He flipped Sierra up into his arms and carried her towards the bedroom, she at least raising pursed lips for attention.

He bent forward to press his against hers when she howled in pain as her legs hit the door frame. He was so startled he almost dropped her. Harry laid her on the ancient, dirty floor rug and rubbed the red marks on her leading leg.

"I'm every so sorry," he whispered, now kissing the minor welt.

"Leave it Harry, I'm okay. The bed, huh?"

Despite his nervousness, heightened by the mishap, he slipped into seduction mode and ran his tongue lightly around her depressed navel.

"Stop it, that tickles," she squirmed, now showing a bit of interest judging by her flush and heavier breathing.

Harry lifted his head to check she was watching and deliberately dribbled into that recess. He then lapped at the tiny reservoir on her belly and lapped and lapped, ignoring her screaming for him to stop until her lower body was writhing on the floor and the meaningless screaming now turned to words, "For God sake, Harry, take me; take me. Take me you tormentor."

By that Harry deduced she was ready, unzipped himself, fumbled with her skirt thingy and positioned on his knees to enter the shaven center, only to falter.

Momentarily he closed his eyes, lips tight.

He drew away from her, zipped up and cupping her face with both hands, cried, "Sierra, Sierra - listen to me."

Looking dazed, Sierra's panting subsided and her eyes focused and catching the urgency in his eyes and voice she said, "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Sierra, really sorry, but I can't continue with this."

She looked concerned asking was he hurt, pulled a muscle.

Stroking her face he said softly, "This is not how I wanted it to be Sierra; it just isn't me."

"What?" she answered, puzzlement mixing with dismay on her face.

She licked her lips and asked what on earth was he talking about - they were aroused, both wanting to do it. Being like that it was near impossible for it not to happen.

"I pulled the plug, Sierra, that's what's happened."

She brushed away his hands, and with strength sat up, forcing him back on his knees. "Why are you doing this to me? Please tell me, make sense to me."

Harry stood and pulled her to her feet, and hugged her. She offered no resistance but neither did she return the caress.

"Talk to me Harry. Unless you are convincing, this is the end of anything physical ever happening between us. Such...such abandonment has never has happened to me before."

"I know. It shocked me too when the thought seized me. Remember back, Sierra. Several times I had mentioned my inner torment over you but finally I conquered it, erasing my self-doubts. Then in announcing that I was ready to advance I expressly said I wished to woo you. Do you remember?"

Sierra swept back her hair, her breathing appeared normal; a look of defeat showed.

"Yes, I remember, but this is a hell of a time to be chatting about something like that."

Harry attempted catch her gaze but her eyes evaded his, indicating he was in big trouble.

"In my book Sierra, there are different shades of sexual relationships, including the hard and furious sweeping us along minutes ago and another kind that I think is what we have the chance to seize - romantic sex. There was a time when you wouldn't have broomed the floor with me, but now you want me and it is my belief we are drifting into romance."

"I'm not suggesting a slow drift but my desire is develop a soft feeling within you and within myself and we spend quality time together to fuse our feelings and when that happens we'll know the time has come."

Sierra frowned, looking at him.

"Are you saying I haven't experienced true romance and that I should experience it with you?"

"Yes and I'm having difficulty expressing it but that's what I'm trying to say succinctly."

Sierra still looked less than happy with him.

"For a few moments back there I was ready to almost kill you, then to walk away from you forever."

She licked her lips and pouted and continued.

"I'll say it again: no one has ever done this to me before. The shock really hit me, ripping me to the core. Then as you began speaking I listened, trying to accept what I was hearing, and despite my emotional upset I became aware a shift in my attitude."

"I have difficulty believing this but I'm interested; you make it sound so desirable. But enough of this, let's clean up here and go back to the city. By lunchtime tomorrow you'll have my decision. You are asking me to make a commitment I've never really thought about, but think about it I must. No one to my knowledge has ever attempted to woo me. That ought to work in your favor."

On the way out Sierra pointed ahead to the only two-level building in the village but Harry replied he no longer wanted early lunch there; the idea of sitting and talking over a drink had lost its appeal as he remembered that's the building from which the woman had appeared at pre-dawn waving a shotgun at him and that was the start of women trouble for him that day.