Entry XI--Scuffed Knees

Eyes tilt up from the business card to the gold plated address on the door to this post-modern office building here in a typically picturesque North Beach stretch of sidewalk.

And there I see the placard, APOGEE TOME Feel a slight twist in my stomach walking up to the entrance. Still nervous, yes, but even more excited at another chance to be near Ms. Cabal

Elevator door opens and I step into the reception area, where a stunning brunette lass sits behind a stylish circular desk.

She looks up at me, smiles and asks:

“Darwin Grimm?”

Should I be surprised she knows who I am?

Rhetorical question--Ms. Cabal trains her hawks well.

“Yes I am--hello.’

“Welcome to Apogee Tome, Mr. Grimm. I’m Leora. I’ll let Ms. Cabal know you are here, please have a seat.”

She gestures to the leather couches to my left that sure look more comfy than any pathetic piece of upholstery in my pad, and I promptly inhabit one.

Trying all the time not to stare at Leora, and her amazing Italian features and long brunette hair enticing me from behind the desk.

If her body’s half as good as the face and hair, I might not be able to get up from this seat.

Quickly dart my eyes away from her when she hangs up and addresses me, “Mr. Grimm? Ms. Cabal will be a few minutes, Mr. Grimm. I will let you know as soon as she is available.”

“Thank you.’

She’s making me wait again. And seeing that she’s a powerful, busy woman, I gotta accept that.

Pick up a publishing trade journal, rifling through it.

Reading a fairly interesting article on royalties when Leora interrupts: “Mr. Grimm, Ms. Cabal is ready to see you now.”

Pick up a publishing trade journal, rifling through it.

Reading a fairly interesting article on royalties when Leora interrupts: “Mr. Grimm, Ms. Cabal is ready to see you now.”

Rise and am greeted by yet another dazzling female, emerging from some inner office. This goddess has golden blonde hair, perfectly straight and all combed over on one side on her face for incredible effect.

Is this a book publishing company or a freaking modeling agency?

This blonde leggy wonder has friendly hand extended, which I gladly shake.

Her skin is soft and supple.

“Hello, I’m Tela Delacroix, Ms. Cabal’s personal assistant. Please allow me to escort you to her office. Can I get you anything to drink for your meeting? Coffe, tea, water?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks."

“Great. Then follow me, won’t you?”

Gladly trail behind her anytime, quite easy to follow that plaid miniskirt accentuating a perfect set of legs and ass, top off by three-inch heels that do a lot to make her delicious ass stand out that little bit extra.

Damn, Ms. Cabal might look like a man to me after Leora and Tela.

No, that isn’t possible.

Shouldn’t surprise me that Ms. Cabal staffs her firm with ‘beautiful people’ It fits in with the idealized worldview she seems to possess. Not to mention it disarms, err, puts one at ease before a high pressure meeting.

As Tela leads me through the winding suites, we reach an impressive closed door--when she suddenly turns to me, nearly stopping me cold with those amazing green eyes.

“Do you have the disc of your material, Darwin?”
After I regain focus I nod and pull the floppy out of the front pocket of my knapsack, handing it over to her with a mixture of nerves and pride.
]
“Here you go.”

“Thank you, Roger. I need it to download it onto our network, so Ms. Cabal can access it instantly.”The thought of Ms. Cabal reading this sobers me up instantly, back to the land of reality and why I’m here, must depart this fantasy realm of beautiful office assistants.

Tela opens the door, informing me: “And now, you may see Ms. Cabal.”

She phrased it like Ms. Cabal is royalty.

Around here, reckon she is.

Who am I kidding? Ms. Cabal is more impressive, interesting and powerful than any queen in any country in history.

Tela closes the door behind me and I’m inside…Ms. Cabal’s office.

Inevitable I would be greeted by that voice:

“Good afternoon, Darwin.”

Have to turn around before I locate her, her desk is in the side corner of room, not where you'd typically expect the desk to be.

Ms. Cabal always has me off-balance.

"Over here, Darwin," Ms. Cabal calls to me with more than just a trace of mockery in her voice. Then explains, "I wanted to be closest to the window that afforded the best view, you'll have to forgive the somewhat unorthodox positioning of my desk."

Hmmm, that was even more mocking, the very idea I would ever be in a position to 'forgive' Ms. Cabal, when it's the other way 'round.

Doesn't matter. My eyes meet hers, and again, I'm captivated.

Sheepish embarassment covers my face as I nearly float towards her desk. "Thank you for having me here, Ms. Cabal”

My humility amuses Ms. Cabal, “Darwin, this is where your book will be published. You may regard Apogee Writ as your second home.”

Her reassuring tone releases a warm rush runs through me, while I try to take in my immediate surroundings.

Rather large office it is, but not ostentatious by any means, mostly airy, open space.

A few pieces of interesting artwork, both sculptures and paintings.

Including one that strikes me as very familiar, but I just can’t place it.

PAINTING

Something about the style of the painter I've seen before…

Am quickly distracted from that attempt at remembrance as Ms. Cabal gestures for me to take the plush leather recliner in front of her circularly stylish desk.

She never rose from her chair, so I’m still not sure what she’s wearing. Looks like it could be something white.

“I suppose the first order of business is ordering lunch. Are you hungry, Darwin?”

‘Yes, or I will be soon enough. Slept in and missed breakfast, after I was up all night going over the outline one last time.”

Ms. Cabal glances at me ever so briefly: “Yes, the outline, we will discuss that in short order…”

She pauses, to access a computer keyboard and brings up a listing of various restaurant menus on a plasma monitor wall screen that we both can view

“And speaking of orders, anything in particular you have a taste for? Chinese? Thai? Italian?

“No, we did Italian last time, didn’t we?”

"Yes, Ms. Cabal."

Takes a lot for me to say this, but I do have a craving: "At the risk of sounding pedestrian Ms. Cabal, would you mind if I just got a veggie burger and fries? I'm really famished and could use a solid meal."

She smiles in the way I've quickly come to realize that only Ms. Cabal can smile: "Then a solid meal you should have, Darwin."

She strokes a key and another menu pops up "This deli is right around the corner, they have excellent vegetarian sandwiches."

All it takes is a nod from me and she's on the phone:

She presses a button on her phone and speaks into the air, “Tela, call Cornado’s and have them deliver a vegetarian burger and fries and I will have a bowl of their vegetarian chili and a Caesar salad with Italian on the side. And two bottles of spring water.”

“Yes, Ms. Cabal,” Tela replies through the intercom.

She looks up to tell me: “I love their chili. You must try it sometime when you’re in a more adventurous mood.”

“Yes, Ms. Cabal,” I say, wondering if I should read into the way she emphasized the word adventurous.

Whoa. Just realized that Ms. Cabal actually remembers that I only like water with my food; that swells both heads a bit.

With that out of the way, Ms Cabal looks at me in a way she hasn’t up to this point, like she’s sizing me up or something.

“Darwin, turn your head all the way to the left.”

Not sure if she wants me to cough or what she has in mind, but as always, I comply.

“Good…and now to your right.”

Again, she has me freeze in this position for several seconds. In my peripheral vision, I can see her inspecting me.

“Now look straight at me.”

I’m rewarded for my noggin-twisting as I return to those eyes of hers. Beyond ‘bedroom,’ they’re an endless orgasm.

And this was the woman I was worried was not going to be feminine enough compared to her assistants?

Other women may interest me, but no one gets to me the way Ms. Cabal does.

Ms. Cabal explains why she had me profile posing: “You will have to have publicity shots taken after the book is finished, Darwin. I was interested in your best angle.’

“And which is it?” I ask, genuinely curious as to any opinion she has on my looks.

“Still can’t decide between your left or face front. You are an attractive man, Darwin. You have very powerful blue/gray eyes. However, you are overtly “pretty,” which could have you taken less seriously, however unfair that perception may be. We can employ your masculine good looks to our advantage in marketing and publicizing the book.’

Man she’s got every angle figure—including my best one.

Course, can’t overlook the fact Ms. Cabal just said that I’m attractive.

Also can’t overlook the fact she was just being intellectually honest, not making any kind of sexually suggestive suggestion.

But then, there was the moment at the restaurant, when her heel dug into calf.

And the way she looks at me with her eyes—maybe she doesn’t look at everyone that way. Maybe I’m special.

Maybe I do have a chance with her, some time some way.

But it’s all going to be on her. Like all our other dealings, she’d be the one to initiate any kind sexual liasion.

(Can't believe I'm entertaining this thought--like it has a chance in hell of manifesting into reality, hah).

If I dared approached her sexually (however implicit the attempt), it would be awkward and messy.

Just about to completely drift off into cogitations of pure fantasy when Ms. Cabal rights the ship once more:

“However, there will be time to discuss such promotional considerations. You have come here to show me what you have written, and obviously nothing takes precedent over that.”

She gestures at her computer screen, then inquires: “Before I take a look at it, tell me, how the writing is going thus far?”

Sense of ease comes over me—glad she asked, and answer without hesitation: “A little more difficult than I thought it’d be. Writing didn’t come as quickly to me as I thought it would after my…hiatus. Thought my batteries would be recharged, when in fact, they’re still pretty weak.”

‘I appreciate your candor, Darwin. I realize it is not easy for you to sit here in my office and tell me those things.

“Fortunately, we still have time to eliminate any potential barriers to the completion of this book.”

Not sure what that means, but she still hasn’t read what I’ve written yet, so have to wait to see just what she considers to be ‘barriers.’

The momentary silence is broken when her phone beeps and Tela’s voice comes through.

“Ms. Cabal, your and Mr. Grimm’s lunch has arrived.’

“Bring the food in, Tela."

Almost instantaneously, the always efficient Tela enters the room and damn if she doesn’t look quite so good as before now that’s she standing in the same room with Ms. Cabal. Just the opposite of what I anticipated, which seems to happen a lot with Ms. Cabal.

Tela hands me a bag with my food and a bottle of water, but serves Ms. Cabal’s lunch as she were Ms. Cabal’s personal waitress--or maid--on a tray with everything unwrapped and ready to eat, including silverware complete with salad fork.

“Thank you, Tela,” I make sure to say and she smiles my way.

Before she can leave, Ms. Cabal barks out, “Tela, pull the coffee table over for Darwin, so he can eat his meal like a civilized person and not on his goddamn lap.”

Would like to tell Tela it’s no big deal, that I actually prefer just eating the food off my lap, but then Ms. Cabal might not think me too civilized. And that matters more to me.

Besides, I’m not about to interfere with Ms. Cabal exercising her power.

Tela fetches the coffee table and drags it over in front of me, not without some effort.

“Thanks again, Tela."

She smiles again, acknowledging she doesn’t hold me responsible for Ms. Cabal’s bitchiness.

With probably a hundred and one tasks to undertake, Tela shifts her hips, moving to exit the office, but she’s halted before her first step by another Ms. Cabal halting dictum:

“Tela, before I open this file and get frustrated, has Darwin’s disc of material been properly loaded into the network?”

“Yes, Ms. Cabal, I personally double-checked it.”

Ms. Cabal nods with the slightest gesture of condescension and with that Tela knows she is dismissed, and she leaves the office without receiving a single ‘thank you’ from her boss.

But where Ms. Cabal’s utter cold and calculated bitchiness should repel, it actually gets me hard.

“Darwin, if you will now excuse me, I am going to read over your material while I eat.”

“Yes, Ms. Cabal."