Holiday Escort

By Julia P. Lynde

Table of Contents

Unusual Interview

Settling In

Keeping Things Welcoming

Wandering Eyes

New Year's Eve

Hers

Resettling

Unsettled

Interview

PlanningParis

Paris

Epilogue

About the Author

Unusual Interview

Life sucks sometimes. I'm sorry, but it does. It was almost December in Minnesota, also known as the great frozen tundra. Except we didn't even have any snow. Christmas was coming. There was no snow, I was out of a job, and my most recent boyfriend had dumped me for some skank he met on a business trip.

I wasn't bitter. Much.

To top it all off, I got a run in my panty hose on the way to a job interview. Who am I kidding? The job interview. The only interview I'd been able to line up for weeks. No one in Minnesota was hiring during the holiday season.

Six months ago, back in June when everything was green, life had been going great. I had been the personal assistant for Marsha Henderson, CEO of Henderson Travel Services. It was a great job. Marsha was a great woman, a great boss. She worked my tail off, but she paid me well and I traveled everywhere she did. Furthermore, she loved me. She took me fresh out of college and taught me exactly how she wanted the job done. I'd been great at pleasing her. It was all great, great, great.

Then Marsha retired, turning over the business to her eldest daughter, who hated me. It wasn't my fault she couldn't keep her slime ball husband on a tight leash; I certainly hadn't encouraged him. Marsha's agreement with Caroline, her daughter, was that I either received a good job in the company or an excellent severance package. I was offered the choice of a lousy job in the company or an excellent severance package. I took the severance package. By July fourth, I was hitting the pavement, looking for new work.

At least I had an excellent letter of reference from Marsha. So far, that and five bucks could get me a cup of coffee at Caribou. But it did get me an interview with the head of legal for Kilador Consulting, Karen Greene. Human Resources at Kilador had loved me. They especially loved my references and my willingness to take a pay cut from what Marsha used to pay me.

So, at nine on a Tuesday morning, I rode the elevator to the seventeenth floor of a shiny glass and steel office building in downtown Minneapolis and presented myself to the receptionist at Kilador for my appointment with Ms. Greene. I was directed to her office, where I knocked and was bade to enter.

Ms. Greene stood behind her desk. She was upper thirties, young for the head of the legal department, I thought, tall, shapely, with blonde hair she was wearing up. She was dressed in Donna Karan. She was, in a word, stunning.

So was the view. She held a southeast facing corner office. There were no other tall office buildings between us and the rest of Minnesota, so the view was unobstructed. At a glance I saw the Mississippi River, the airport, and lots of grey trees. I imagined it was phenomenal in the summer.

Ms. Greene walked around her desk to meet me. She offered me a hand, asked if I required a refreshment, then asked me to take a seat at a small conference table in the corner of her office. She took the other chair, her back to the magnificent, distracting view, and opened a folder. I recognized my resume.

"So," she said. "Madeline Burnet." She perused the resume and frowned.

My heart sank.

She looked up at me. "Why are you here?"

"I've applied to be your personal assistant," I told her. "The woman at HR seemed impressed with my qualifications. She told me I'd be perfect for you."

Ms. Greene paused before continuing. "Ms. Burnet, I am the head of legal at Kilador."

"Yes, Ma'am, I understand."

She looked at my resume and the reference letter from Marsha. Then she looked back at me. "This is the most glowing reference letter I've ever read."

"Ms. Greene, I am the best personal assistant in the entire Twin Cities. I will work my tail off for you. Ask me anything."

She sized me up. "Well, you're confident. All right. Tell me about your legal experience."

I blinked twice before answering. "I'm sorry, Ms. Greene, but I have no legal experience at all. The only real job I've had is working for Marsha. But I'm a fast learner. I can learn everything I need. You won't be disappointed."

Ms. Greene offered me a kind expression. "I'm sorry, but this position requires a paralegal. Julie knows that. She never should have sent you to me, regardless of the rest of your skills or your outstanding recommendation letter." She paused. "How long have you been out of work?"

"Since the beginning of July. Marsha retired. Her daughter doesn't care for me. I was offered an excellent severance package and have been looking for work since."

"How many interviews have you had?"

"Counting this one, four."

"How many jobs have you applied for?"

"Seventeen. Plus blind cover letters and resumes to most of the major companies in the metropolitan area. I thought I'd have a job right away. I am not being cocky. I am very good. I have ten years of experience working for Marsha, and she was exceedingly demanding. Before me, it took two assistants to take care of her, but I did everything for her. I'm starting to wonder if I should have taken the crappy job Caroline Henderson offered me instead of the severance package."

She looked down at my resume again, tapping her long fingernails against the table before looking back at me again. "I wish I could hire you for this position."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time," I said, starting to get up.

"Sit down," she commanded. I immediately complied. "I'm going to give you some advice. First, don't settle. If you're as good as this letter indicates, do not settle."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said. "But I'm getting desperate."

"Next, stop sounding so desperate during the interviews. Confident is good, but desperate is bad." She smiled. "Job interviews are both sales and negotiation. You need to sell yourself, but not sell yourself short."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She paused. "How are your personal finances?"

"I gave notice at my apartment and am moving back in with my parents. I have to be out in three days. I'm thirty-one and will be living with my parents. But I haven't tapped into my retirement funds."

"Why doesn't Caroline Henderson like you?" Ms. Greene asked me.

"You're not hiring me, are you?" I asked her.

"Not for this job, no. But I may have another opportunity to discuss with you. Why doesn't Caroline Henderson like you?"

"I don't know why," I told her.

"Do you suspect?"

I looked away.

She sighed. "Does she have a professional reason to be dissatisfied with you?"

"No, Ma'am," I said. "At least none that I know of or that she's shared with me."

"So it's personal."

"I believe so."

She sighed. "Madeline, I really need to know why she doesn't like you."

I stared her in the eyes. "Her husband can't keep his hands to himself, Ma'am. She blames me. I threatened a lawsuit if he ever came without ten yards of me again."

"Thank you for answering," she said. "Stand up."

We both stood up. She stepped away from me slightly. "Turn around, please."

I did, then looked at her suspiciously.

She ignored my look but said, "I can not hire you for this position, Ms. Burnet. I may have something else for you entirely unassociated with Kilador Consulting. Are you interested in discussing it?"

"Is it legal?"

She laughed. "Yes."

"Ethical?"

"Yes."

"I'd love to hear about it," I told her.

"Are you open to a non-traditional, short term position that includes room and board?"

I thought about it and nodded.

"Can you dance?"

I grinned. "Yes."

"I'm not talking freestyle," she said.

"I've been dancing since I was six," I told her. "Ballet, modern, ballroom, and Tango. I used to compete in Tango. Amateur only though."

"Ballroom tango?"

I made a face at the suggestion. "Argentine."

She smiled and walked around to her desk. She consulted her calendar then looked at me. "Can you meet with me for lunch, my treat?" I nodded. She wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I looked at it. It was the name of an upscale restaurant here in downtown. "Noon," she said. "There will be reservations in my name. Don't be late."

"No, Ma'am."

* * *

I cooled my heels at the library for two hours, wondering what the mysterious and provocative Karen Greene could want. I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early.  I presented myself to the hostess and was shown to a private table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. I ordered a diet soda and pulled out my phone for something to read while I waited.

Several minutes later, the hostess escorted Ms. Greene to the table. I stood up and offered her my hand. We sat, she ordered her own soda, then she looked at me.

"Madeline," she said. "I am here as a private individual, not as a representative of Kilador Consulting. Do you understand?"

"Are you about to discuss something disgusting and seedy?" I asked her. "Is that why you're stressing this? Do you really have a job, or is this a come on?"

She laughed. "I really have a job, but it's going to sound like a come on."

"I won't sue Kilador Consulting for sexual harassment," I told her. "I understand you are not here as a representative of the company I interviewed with this morning."

"You understand also that I know of no jobs at Kilador that would suit your personal skills, and nothing that comes out of any of our interactions would change that."

"You sound like a lawyer." I smiled. "I understand."

"Good. Call me Karen. The 'ma'am' thing was getting on my nerves."

With that, she picked up the menu and started looking through it. I did the same and tried not to boggle at the prices. She looked over the top of the menu at me. "If you order something cheap, I am going to be offended."

"So I should order the lobster."

"If that is what you want."

We both ordered salads. Then she looked at me. "Tell me about yourself, Madeline."

I ran through my professional qualifications and history. She let me finish before she said, "All right. Now tell me about yourself."

"I don't understand. I just did."

"You told me about your work history. That doesn't tell me anything about what you are like as a person. Do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? A dog? Fish? Do you still dance? What do you do for fun? Can you cook?"

"Why do you want to know all that?"

"Humor me."

I took a breath. "No boyfriend." I didn't elaborate. "No pets. I don't compete anymore, but am quite happy to go social dancing when an opportunity presents itself. I haven't been going out of my way to do so lately. I like to stay in shape, read a lot, and love old movies. I'm a halfway decent cook, but nothing that would be considered high gourmet."

Over the next half hour, she talked to me, starting conversations on a variety of topics. It partly felt like a job interview and partly felt like two people getting to know each other. We finished our meal and were still talking when she leaned back and made a decision.

"I need a personal assistant," she said.

"I know," I said with a wane smile. "One with legal experience."

"Let me rephrase," she said. "I need a personal, personal assistant. To help with my private life, not my professional life." She paused. "Holidays are hell on me. Professional demands are high plus all the personal demands the holidays place. Furthermore, there are countless events I don't care to attend alone."

"So you're asking me, to, what?"

"Do my Christmas shopping. Do my Christmas cards. Decorate my house. Assist hosting several events. Attend several events with me." She paused. "Cook. Keep me company. Make my home an inviting space to come home to."

I didn't say anything right away. "You want a wife."

"Yes, I guess I do."

I sighed. "You're right, it sounds like a come on." I paused. "I'm straight. I like boys."

"Good. That would make everything easier. My position means I am expected to both attend and host events. I am expected to have someone on my arm. I have in the past found an agreeable man to escort me around, but I am tired of that lie. Furthermore, I would prefer the escort at the public events be the same person who helps to host the events in my home."

"You want the straight girl to pose as your fake girlfriend?"

"Madeline, I don't do well with girlfriends. They tend to want a lot more attention than I can give them. I work long hours, and the last thing I want is a woman whining because my job comes before she does." She paused. "I could never find a low-maintenance girlfriend who was willing to do the things I would expect you to do."

"So hire servants."

She looked at me.

"Oh," I said finally. "That's what I would be."

"I'll pay you five thousand dollars between now and the second of January, plus room and board and a significant household budget. That's the time I need the most from you. After that, you have free room and board for up to six months with a significantly lower work load."

"Do you expect me to clean the house?"

"I hire a cleaning service once a week plus after any special events. You would be expected to maintain a presentable house, however."

"So clean up my own messes and keep the kitchen tidy."

She smiled. "Yes."

"I am not qualified to cook for your events."

"We will use caterers."

"I am continuing to interview for a permanent position."

"Of course. If you find a job, you may not start before January 2nd. I need you until then."

I thought about it. "Would you be presenting me as an employee? Girlfriend? What?"

"Girlfriend."

"Without the sex."

"Correct."

"But you would otherwise expect me to act like a live-in girlfriend."

She looked at me. "I told you it was a non-traditional job."

I laughed. "It surely is. Do you have other girlfriends? Someone I would be obligated to be jealous about? Are you going to flirt with someone else? Bring her home?"

"No to none of that, and I'd expect you to treat me with the same respect."

"Why me? I don't exactly fit the bill."

"I am being opportunistic," she explained. "Most women who are smart enough to be on my arm are too smart to put up with my shit. You're bright, a good conversationalist. You present well. I can introduce you at social events and not be embarrassed. But you're straight, so this shouldn't get messy. We should be able to keep this as a private relationship that doesn't get out of hand." She paused. "Most of the job would be personal assistant duties, of which you are amazingly qualified. So you're a package deal, and you're perfect."

I looked at her. "Someone told me job interviews are half selling myself, half negotiations. Eight grand," I said. "And new outfits for each event. My date wardrobe isn't up to your standards."

She laughed. "Bit by my own advice." She thought about it. "Do you have other negotiations you intend before I give a counter-offer?"

"I expect to be treated properly."

"Of course. Six thousand," she said. "And I'll decide what new outfits you need after I review your wardrobe myself. If I decide your current wardrobe is fine, I'll pay you the eight."

"You could pay me the six thousand and buy me a track suit."

"And you could get pissy about it and ruin my events. I promise you won't feel cheated."

"So, to be clear, you've offered me a job and are now waiting to see if I accept?"

She nodded.

I held my hand across the table for a hand shake. "You've got yourself a girlfriend. When do I start?"

She shook my hand then pulled her checkbook out of her purse. I watched as she wrote a check and slid it across the table. It was for an even six thousand dollars. I looked at it. "Is this legal?"

"With the right paperwork," she said. "You'll have to pay taxes against that. You start immediately." She took out a small pad of paper and wrote on it, then gave it to me. "Street address. Security code to open the garage door. The same code also works on the electronic lock for the front door. The second number is the security system. There is a touchpad inside the door from the garage as well as one near the front door. They will both be beeping when you enter."

I nodded.

"This afternoon you will move in. I will be home by seven. Cook something you think I'll like." She slid some cash to me. "You'll need to go grocery shopping. Keep receipts. I'll expect a proper report." I nodded. "You'll need to arrange storage for most of your things, but I expect you to move in today with your entire wardrobe. Is that a problem?"

"No." I paused. "Tell me about the types of foods you like."

We talked for a while longer, then it was time to go. We walked back to her office building together; my car was in the underground parking below her building. We entered the building together and she pulled me to the side. "Madeline," she said. "Thank you." She paused. "The first event is Saturday evening."

After that we stared at each other for a full minute, neither one of us quite sure what the goodbye protocol was. "Um."

"I know," she said. "Awkward."

I hugged her. She hugged back.

Settling In

I drove to the bank and deposited the check then went home to my apartment. What a weird job. I decided I was going to like Karen. I imagined myself as a lesbian, trying to really fill the role she was looking to fill. I had to admit, if what she wanted was a 1950's wife for a permanent girlfriend, that wouldn't have been me. I liked having a real job.

I changed clothes then went digging through the online yellow pages. I looked up storage centers and called several, then called one back and made arrangements over the phone. I had paperwork to sign, but I had a place reserved that was big enough for my things. Then I called the moving company I'd previously arranged and told them they'd be taking my things to the storage center instead of home. They were coming Thursday morning, the day after tomorrow.

I called Mom. "Hey, Mom." I told her about the job.

"This sounds very strange. Are you sure she is on the up and up?"

"She's a lawyer, Mom. So probably not."

She laughed.

"I'll be fine. I'm calling to let you know I won't be moving in right away. I hope you aren't upset. She's paying me a lot and maybe it will lead to some good contacts."

Most of my stuff was already boxed and ready to go. My clothes were already in suit cases and garment bags. I had borrowed from my parents and had managed to stuff almost everything into the bags I owned or borrowed. I had a couple of large garbage bags for sweaters and other things that wouldn't wrinkle. I carried or rolled everything down to my car, taking several trips, then made a trip through the apartment, looking for things I would need. I grabbed my laptop and a few other things and locked up.

Karen lived in Plymouth, an upscale, outer ring suburb of Minneapolis. I punched her address into my phone, reviewed the route, and began working my way there. On the way, I thought about the job.

I thought about being what was effectively her servant but decided it wasn't really any different than being her personal assistant. I'd be doing a lot of the things I'd done for Marsha over the years. And she was paying me a lot of money to do it.

As for being her fake girlfriend, I wasn't so sure how I felt about that, but I would figure it out.

Things were looking up.

* * *

Karen's house wasn't quite a McMansion, but close enough. From the street it looked like a large, two story house with a three-story garage. But it had a walk out basement, which means in back, it was a monolithic structure extending three floors above the ground. The yard, like all the yards in late November, was grey, but she had extensive landscaping done, and I bet the yard was stunning in the summer months.

I pulled up in front of the garage then wondered; which side does Karen want me to use to park my car? I got out and used the code to open the door and considered my choices. The garage door opener worked the large, two-car door. The third stall, the one to the furthest left, had no opener, but that stall was consumed by the accoutrements of yard care. I decided to park in the center stall, pulling as far to the left as I could, offering a large amount of room for Karen to pull in. If she preferred the stall I had just taken, I could move my car.

The entrance from the garage into the house was unlocked. As soon as I entered, I heard the beeping from the alarm. I punched in the code and the beeping stopped.

I gave myself a tour.

The first room, the entrance from the garage, was the laundry room. Sink, washer and dryer to the left, closet to the right. Stepping through that room I entered the kitchen. I stopped and stared.

The kitchen was amazing. Spotless and amazing. There was a large center island with a sink and a cook top. Above the island was a glass and stainless steel hood. She had a wall-mounted double oven and a huge refrigerator. Two doors from the kitchen led into a pair of pantries. One held cooking equipment; pots and pans, a variety of electrics, that sort of thing. The other was for food and was half empty.

There was an informal dining area right next to the kitchen which immediately opened into a fabulous great room, meticulously decorated, if perhaps somewhat sterile. Past that was a room Karen clearly used as a home office. Also on the main floor was a second entertaining area and a formal dining room.

I headed upstairs. The upstairs was basically two wings separated by a catwalk overlooking the great room on one side and the front foyer on the other. One wing was clearly Karen's room. I snooped very lightly. The other wing held a full bathroom and two bedrooms, both fully furnished. I walked back and forth between the two bedrooms and wondered which one I was supposed to take. Finally I decided to take the one with the biggest closet.

I headed back to the main floor, then decided to investigate the basement. I descended the stairs and stopped, stunned.

Her basement had nine-foot ceilings, and the largest room was fully finished as a dance hall. There was one more bedroom, a bathroom, the utility room, a large storage room, and a small closet that was being used as a wine cellar. I stared at the bottles for a moment before going back to the dance hall.

I walked across the floor. It was a sprung floor! I kicked off my shoes, stretched for a moment, then did a half-remembered ballet dance pass across the floor. I hadn't done it in fifteen years, I wasn't wearing proper clothing, and I barely remembered the dance, but it felt amazing.

I walked around the room and marveled.

One wall was mirrored with a ballet barre mounted firmly to it. At the end of the room were built in cabinets holding a stereo system. She had a computer connected to the stereo, so I presumed all her music was on the computer. I looked in the cabinets and found rows and rows of CDs, all of them dance music. It was organized by style. The largest shelf was devoted to Tango.

I stared at all of it then closed it all up, turned the lights off, and headed back upstairs, carrying my shoes.

I stepped into the kitchen and considered. I pulled out my phone and Karen's business card and sent her a text message. "OMG. The dance floor. OMG. OMG. OMG."

I sent a second text, this one somewhat more serious. "Do you care which bedroom I take? If not, I'll take the one in back; it has a larger closet. But maybe you prefer hiding me downstairs."

I got a response to the first message. "LOL. Wish I could see your expression. Glad you like it.

Then I received, "Take whichever bedroom you like."

I texted once more. "Is there a wireless network?"

The reply said, "Password is BackOcho". A back ocho is a tango dance move.

* * *

It took me an hour to move my stuff to my bedroom and unpack. I moved my bathroom things into the bathroom, but stored it in the available drawers rather than leaving it all over the counter like I normally do. Then I looked around.

The decorating sucked. Okay, it didn't suck. It was very tasteful. The entire house was tasteful. But it was boring. It was sterile. I hated it.

She had told me to decorate for Christmas. I'd talk to her tonight about it.

I went back downstairs and started digging through the kitchen.

Karen had every kitchen toy imaginable. And none of it looked like it got much use. The pantry barely held the basic staples such as flour and sugar. The refrigerator held evidence of leftover take out food and a few old bottles of condiments. In one cupboard I found an extensive collection of tea. There was a coffee maker but I didn't find any coffee in any of the cupboards, the refrigerator or the freezer.

I texted Karen again. "Goldie Fox slipped into the bear's home but all the cupboards were bare."

Her reply came. "LOL. Goldie Fox, hmm? Fill the cupboards, keep receipts." A second reply came. "Buy things you know how to cook. I don't."

I wrote back, "What was your old girlfriend's name?"

"Jessica. Difficult subject. Busy now."

I took the hint. I snooped through her office and found a pad of paper. I did an inventory of the cupboards and decided the only thing she didn't need was tea. It took me an hour to prepare a list. I used my computer to find the local grocery store.

By the time I was done at the grocery store, I was pulling two carts around with me. I basically bought everything, including fresh meat and produce for three nights' worth of meals. I accepted an offer to bring the groceries to my car. The total was a little over three hundred dollars.

I got home and organized the pantry and the refrigerator while putting everything away. It was four PM. Dinner at seven. That means the chicken in the oven at five-thirty. I did the rest of the planning, then prepped everything and put it in the fridge, ready to go.

Finally, I had a chance to sit.

Karen said she wanted a girlfriend without the sex and the complications. But she wanted her house to be warm and inviting. I decided fake girlfriend who had been running around all afternoon and was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt wasn't quite what she had in mind. I took a shower and primped for a date. I put on a skirt, nylons, and blouse, then did my hair and very light make-up.

Promptly at five-thirty the chicken went in the oven. Everything else could wait until Karen got home. I set the dining room table for two, complete with candles and linens then curled up on the sofa in the great room, book in hand.

At seven, the timer went off for the chicken. Karen wasn't home. I lit the candles anyway.

At seven fifteen, I turned the chicken down to the lowest setting in the oven.

At seven forty-five, I turned the oven off entirely.

At eight fifteen, I took the now dried out chicken out of the oven, cut it up, retrieved the salad from the refrigerator, served myself a salad with chicken spread over it, then bagged up the rest of the chicken for the refrigerator and washed my dishes.

At nine-fifteen, I heard the garage door open.

I got up from the sofa, setting the book aside, and waited for her in the kitchen. She came in, shedding things in the foyer, and stepped into the kitchen. She looked terrible.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This is why I don't do well with most girlfriends."

I nodded. "Did you eat? Dinner isn't quite what it would have been two hours ago, but it's not ruined. I'll need to heat some of it up."

She looked at me. "You dressed for a date."

"Thank you for noticing." I looked at her. She really looked terrible. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Legal emergency at work. I can't talk about it."

"Did you eat?"

"No. Anything you have would be fine. A sandwich?"

"I can do better than that." I walked over to her and took her purse away from her, setting it on the island, then took her hand and pulled her to the dinette table. I pulled a chair out and pushed her into it.

From the formal dining room I retrieved the candles, still burning, and set them on the dinette table. I set her place setting in front of her but kept her plate.

She stared at everything then looked at me.

"You prepared a romantic meal."

"You said you wanted a welcoming home. You said the holidays were a stressful time for you. I was trying to make the home welcoming."

"Aren't you angry?"

"Karen, you're paying me to be a rather odd version of your personal assistant. And I told you; I am the best in the city. A personal assistant who gets mad at her boss can't make that claim, can she?"

I turned my back on her and prepared her dinner. I set it down for her and asked what she wanted to drink. I retrieved the water she requested then sat down with her.

"You aren't eating?"

"I ate an hour ago. I'm keeping you company."

She picked up her fork but looked at me. "I'm so sorry. You went through all this work."

"For the record I want to point out that I am not responsible for your guilt trip."

She smiled. "Noted." She slowly began eating her dinner.

* * *

Afterwards we moved to the great room. She looked haggard and exhausted. We sat at opposite ends of the sofa. I reached down and plucked her feet from the floor, placing them in my lap.

"What are you doing?"

I ignored the question but removed her shoes. Then I began massaging her feet for her. After that, she didn't protest. Her eyes closed and she whimpered a little in appreciation.

"Boss," I told her once she had relaxed a little. "Your house is wonderful."

"Little ol' lawyerly me hears a 'but' attached to the end of that."

"The decorating is tasteful."

"But?"

"Sterile."

She laughed. "I know. Jessica had the house decorated wonderfully. It hurt too much to look at it after she left. I hired someone to come in and change it. This is what I got."

"So I have permission to do whatever I want for Christmas."

"Keep it tasteful."

I smiled. "I used to do Marsha's house."

"I know," she said.

"What is my budget?"

"Spend whatever you need. Keep receipts and I'll reimburse you immediately."

I thought about it. "So if I spent five grand, that would be fine?"

She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Is that what it would take?"

"I'm finding out whether you're serious about 'whatever it takes'. And how lavish do you want it?"

She closed her eyes. "That sounds high, but use your judgment."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Do you want a tree?" she did. "Real tree, not fake?" She did. "Garlands?" Yes. "Lights?" Yes. "I'm not putting up exterior lights myself. I'll hire someone to do it."

"I like when they're all one color," she said. "And not gaudy."

"I'll handle it." I paused. "Are you religious?"

"No. Are you?"

"I worship Mother Earth."

She opened her eyes at me, possibly to judge whether I was being serious. I was. She nodded and closed them again. She let me massage her feet for several minutes then said, "I need to give you the schedule. For events between now and January first. There is paper in my office."

I got up and retrieved the pad I'd used in the kitchen, then sat down and put her feet back in my lap.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were straight. Flirting is a bad idea." She started to take her feet back.

"It's just flirting," I said, hanging onto her feet. "I am hoping your feet feel good enough to dance with me. Assuming you want us to look natural together when we go out."

She relaxed and let me keep her feet, but didn't comment.

She dictated the schedule to me, entirely from memory. She had four events scheduled at her home, including a New Year's Eve party. There were four other office-related events she was attending.

"There is a computer in my office."

"I saw it."

She told me her password. "I keep my entire mailing list on it, categorized by relationship. I want Christmas cards sent to everyone on the list." She paused. "Marsha said you used to sign her name, that you could actually write in her handwriting."

"I told you, I'm the best in the cities."

"Can you do mine?"

"I'll need a several page sample from you as well as an entire page of your signature, both formal and informal."

She opened her eyes and looked at me. "I'm a terrible human being."

"Because you're asking your fake girlfriend to fake your Christmas cards for you?"

She laughed. "Yes." She closed her eyes again. "Personal notes to anyone who looks like they might be close."

I started quoting what I would write. "To whom it may concern. Seasons greetings. Karen The Too Busy."

She laughed.

We discussed the other things I would need to know. I was amazed at how easily she made decisions and how much she was trusting me with her entire life.

She took her feet away from me. "Do you have dance shoes?"

"Already downstairs waiting for me."

She led the way to the basement. We both put on dance shoes, then she walked to the stereo and turned things on. Tango music began to spill from the speakers.

"Daring choice," I told her. "Tango electronico. I would have expected something more traditional from you."

She didn't say anything but instead turned around and began walking towards me in time to the music. She didn't take a direct path, but circled around me before pulling me into her arms. I immediately leaned against her. I leaned slightly with my head so our foreheads were touching, slightly off center, looking over her right shoulder, she over mine. She was an inch or so taller than I was, so we fit perfectly.

We did a quick weight shift, putting me on my left foot, then she stepped forward.

She was a good lead. I was a much better dancer than she was, but she was a better lead than I would have been, and she was good. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the dance.

It had been months since I'd been in someone's arms. She was warm and soft and strong. It felt really nice.

The song ended. I held onto her. Another song began, and we were dancing again.

We didn't talk. We just danced.

It felt so good to be held by her. It felt so good to be dancing again. Even if I was a fake girlfriend, it felt good to be in a relationship, even a fake relationship, with someone I enjoyed dancing with.

The song ended. She tried to pull away, but I held on, so we ended up performing a volcada. It was poor taste to do so after the music was over. I giggled. She stepped back up to me.

"Cheeky girl," she whispered in my ear.

"You don't owe me another dance if you don't want to," I told her. "If you step away from me again, I'll let you go, but otherwise I'm happy to dance all night."

She had lost track of which foot I was on, so she offered a weight shift. I was hooked, my right foot hooked behind my left ankle, so when she shifted, I didn't. She did another weight shift.

"I can't tell what foot you're on."

"Sorry. You ended the last song with me hooked. I'm on my left." I tapped her shoulder with my left hand for emphasis.

She stepped forward and we were dancing again.

"You're better than I am," she said.

"You're a better lead than I am," I said. "And the only girlfriend slash boyfriend slash boss I've ever had who could tango. These are nice dances for me."

She laughed quietly.

At one point in the dance, she hesitated. I think she'd lost the music. But to me a hesitation is an invitation for an embellishment. I leaned into her and wrapped my leg around hers. She caught her breath and I smiled into her ear.

"If you can't handle it, don't invite it," I told her playfully.

She stepped forward, causing a secada, which turned into a molinete. I don't think she was expecting that, but she went with it. "Did I lead that?" she asked.

"Yes."

The dance finished and she set me firmly on my feet. "Thank you, Madeline."

When she stepped away, I let her go. "Thank you, Karen." We stared at each other for a moment. She was stunning. She turned away. She looked upset.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked her.

"No. Jessica was the dancer. This space was my gift to her."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I won't ask again."

"No. It's time." She turned back. "She taught me to dance and insisted I learn to lead because she liked to follow. For a while, we danced here for an hour or two every night. Then I started working longer hours, and we were dancing less and less." She paused. "I should have listened when she kept asking me to dance." Karen walked over to the stereo and turned it off before turning back to me.

"Will you dance with me again tomorrow night?"

I smiled. "Karen, I'll dance with you as much as you want."

* * *

Lying in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about the dancing. About how good it felt when Karen held me.

"Do not be an idiot, Maddy," I actually said out loud. "She is a she. Thus, not your type."

* * *

I made sure I got up when Karen did. I heard her shower. I pulled on a bathrobe and waited outside her room until the shower ended. I knocked at her door. "Karen?"

"Madeline?"

I opened the door. "I didn't ask what you do about breakfast."

"I'm in the bathroom. Come on through."

I stepped in and found her in front of the mirror, primping. "I normally get coffee and a bagel on the way to the office," she said.

"Espresso or coffee?"

"Coffee. Cream. But there's no coffee. I haven't used the coffee maker."

"Ever?"

"Jessica."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"I'm sorry."

She caught me smirking at her.

"Plain or blueberry?" I asked her.

"Blueberry coffee?"

"Don't be silly. No one would make blueberry coffee. Blueberry bagels, on the other hand, are pretty good."

"I don't have time to wait for you to hit the bagel shop."

I gave her The Look. "Karen. Listen very carefully. I am the best personal assistant in the Twin Cities area. Do you really think I would make you wait for a bagel?"

"Blueberry," she said, laughing.

By the time Karen came downstairs, I had a travel coffee mug ready for her and a bagel toasted with cream cheese. "Is this right, or in the future do you want it packed to eat at the office?"

"This is amazing. Thank you," she said. She started to head for the door.

"Hey!" I said. "Fake girlfriend here. Where's my fake kiss?"

She laughed then walked up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"That's better," I said.

* * *

I showered, had my own bagel, then planned the day.

The Christmas cards were first. Karen's contacts list was two hundred and forty-one names long. I logged onto the same site where I used to buy cards for Marsha and ordered three hundred for overnight delivery. I made sure she had all the software I would need for addressing the cards so it looked like they were addressed by hand. Doing them all manually would take way too long.

I looked around for a tape measure. I never found a single tool. I estimated sizes, drawing a floor plan of the house.

Finding a handyman took five phone calls. The fifth call was the right one.

"Handyman Fred," he said, answering his phone.

"Hello, Fred. I need help in Plymouth, either this afternoon or Friday, with Christmas decorations, mostly stringing lights in the trees and hanging garland."

"I can give you this afternoon," he said. "Friday is booked."

"You'll need your own ladders. Is that a problem?"

"Nope. I've done this before. I can go up to two stories. I can string fruit trees, but I won't make it to the top of a really big tree."

"That's perfect."

He'd promised to arrive at one. I had four hours to buy everything I needed.

I started at the hardware store. I bought basic tools, picture hanging hardware, and lots and lots of lights. I could bring back anything extra. I added extension cords. A nearby church had a Christmas tree lot. I stopped in and made sure they had plenty of good trees and garland, but I didn't buy one yet. I then drove to the mall and started buying decorations.

It's easy to buy Christmas decorations. Buying some that aren't cheap is harder. By the time I got out of the mall, I had forty-five minutes left. I stopped back at the church and picked out a tree and a lot of garland. I arrived back at the house minutes before Fred arrived.

"I'm Fred," he said.

"Thanks for coming, Fred. I'm Madeline. I need you to set up the tree for me, but we need to move the furniture around first. Then we'll do the trees and exterior garlands. After that, we'll see how much time you have left."

Fred was a professional. We rearranged all the furniture in the great room, then he carried the tree in and set it up. We both stepped back and looked.

"There's a balance problem," he said.

"That's what I was thinking."

We rearranged three times before we both declared it perfect.

I showed him everything I bought. "We can use as much garland outside as we want. Whatever is left over goes inside. For the lights, I want understated outside."

He used a ladder to arrange the garland around the front entrance. But when stringing lights in the trees, he used a long extensible pole. It went amazingly quickly with both of us working on it together. We plugged it all in, and it looked amazing.

"Garland and lights around the garage doors, too, I think," I said. Those were the only lights we put on the house.

We moved back inside. I had an hour left of his time. There were two tall, bare walls in Karen's great room. "Do you have a ladder?"

"Of course."

I'd bought tapestries for the walls. He hung them for me. Then we draped garland practically everywhere. We strung lights on the tree and swapped out all of the artwork in the house for more cheerful winter scenes. We looked around the house together then I turned to him. "You're amazing, Fred." I hugged him. "Thank you. I'll need an invoice."

* * *

I texted Karen. "Text me when you are in your car and leaving. Dinner will be ready for you when you pull up."

"Expect six thirty," was the response.

Dinner would be stir fry. I chopped everything up and had it ready to go. Then I ran around the house, getting as much as I could get done by six. After that, a quick shower, primp, and I dressed in a little black dress.

Karen called at six forty. "Madeline, I am leaving the parking garage."

* * *

Dinner was nearly ready when she pulled up. The rice was done, the food was done, and I had raided her wine cellar for a bottle. She entered via the laundry room and I met her with a glass of wine.

"You put up lights outside."

I smiled. "Before I let you further into the house, I need to tell you. I'm not done. I need at least another day, then I'll be tweaking for a week or so."

She offered a funny look. That's when I walked backwards, letting her into her house.

The kitchen was only lightly decorated, so she didn't see the big changes right away. Then she turned to the right. Her jaw dropped.

She walked around the house, looking at everything I had done. She didn't say a word.

"Is this what you envisioned?"

She turned to me. "No."

My face fell.

"It's significantly better than anything I could have envisioned. It's brilliant."

I began to beam, happy that I had pleased her.

She turned and looked at me. "You dressed for me again." I nodded. "Are you going to do this every night?" I nodded. "Do I have time to change before dinner?"

"No more than ten minutes," I said. "Faster would be better." She nodded, handed me her wine glass, and headed upstairs.

By the time she came back down, I had everything on the dining room table and the candles lit. Her glass was at her place, and I stood waiting for her. She came down wearing a bright red dress. I realized it was a tango dress. I grinned.

She spent the meal praising the house, the meal, and my dress. I couldn't stop smiling from all the praise. Eventually I realized she was babbling and I was acting like a golden retriever, ecstatic to be praised.

"Karen," I told her. "So far I stayed downstairs. There is a lot to do here yet, and I barely touched the basement. I haven't done anything upstairs. Do I have permission to decorate your bedroom, or do you want me to leave it alone."

"You don't have to decorate my bedroom," she said.

"That's not what I asked."

She smiled at me. "I'd love if you did."

We finished dinner and she told me, "I need to work for another hour or so. I want you to find me precisely at nine and make me dance with you." She paused. "You are not to accept 'no' for an answer. Or I'll work until midnight."

I laughed.

She worked in her office with the door closed. I began hanging decorations from the tree. Precisely at nine, I knocked on her door and entered without waiting. "It's nine, girlfriend," I told her.

"Ten more minutes," she said without looking up.

I retreated and closed the door and smiled. I walked downstairs and put on a pair of dance shoes. I then found a pair of hers that would match her dress and carried them back upstairs. I knocked and entered.

"That wasn't ten minutes," she said. I didn't respond but instead walked over to her and pulled her chair away from the desk. "Hey!" she complained. I rotated her chair towards the door, then knelt down in front of her and began putting her shoes on. She stared at me. Then I stood up, grabbed her hands, and pulled her to her feet.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Following orders." I looked directly into her eyes. She looked pissed. I didn't back down or look away.

"I'm sorry, I'm countermanding those orders," she said. "I need to finish this."

"No. You're done for the night. You are coming downstairs and dancing with me for an hour, then you are going to bed."

"I think you're forgetting who is paying whom." She put a lot of steel into it.

I smiled and pulled Karen towards the door. I thought she was going to fight me further, but she followed me docilely into the basement. She stopped and stared as soon as we entered the dance hall.

"I thought you said you hadn't been down here."

"It's just a garland and some lights," I said. "Barely a start."

She put the music on, and I immediately melted into her arms. We danced two songs without comment.

She was stiff, so I said, "Stop thinking and dance. You have a lovely woman in your arms. You should be enjoying it." She paused at that and I immediately used the opportunity for a leg wrap.

"Vixen," she said. But I could hear the smile.

It took several songs for her to unwind. I could feel it in her dance. But eventually she began to enjoy herself.

Guys tend to freak out at the thought of dancing together, but I've always enjoyed dancing with other women, oftentimes more than the men. We danced for an hour. It was the best hour I'd had for six months.

When we were finally done, I told her that. She smiled. "Perhaps mine, too."

* * *

Thursday I met the movers at the apartment. They did all the heavy lifting, and I was back at the house by noon, stopping by the post office on the way. I bought three hundred holiday theme stamps.

The box with the Christmas cards had arrived while I was gone. Excellent. I did some practice envelopes with the printer. Once I was sure I had everything working properly, I began feeding envelopes through the system. While they were printing, I practiced Karen's signature. It took me a while until I was satisfied.

I had broken the contact list into groups. Anyone who seemed like an acquaintance would get a card with "Happy Holidays" and Karen's signature. The very closest people, such as her mother, were going to get notes Karen wrote herself. The people in between got a slightly longer message, hand-written by me.

I worked on cards for two hours before my hand decided it was enough for the day. After that, I puttered around the house for two hours, working on the decorating, then sat for a while and worked on plans for the upcoming parties I'd be helping to host.

The dinner preparation didn't take long. I had everything ready to go onto the stove and only needed Karen's call to start cooking. I dressed for dinner and picked up a book.

Karen called at six fifteen. "I'm walking out of the office now." I fired up the stove and had everything ready by seven and set it all to simmer.

By seven fifteen I started wondering how bad traffic had been.

At seven thirty I turned the stove off. At seven forty-five, I ate alone.

Karen arrived at eight thirty. I was pissed, but I took one look at her and my heart went out to her. She caught my original expression.

"Don't apologize. Are you okay?"

"No."

"Are you physically hurt? Were you in an accident?"

"No. I'm sorry I was late."

I took her things from her and pulled her into a hug. She laid her head on my shoulder and let me hold her.

Even though she was hurting, it felt good to hold her.

I led her to a chair and reheated dinner for her. She sat there and ate numbly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

She looked up at me. "One of my employees had a personal issue. He stepped into my office immediately after I called you. He was in my office for about fifteen seconds before he started crying. He just found out his sister had died."

"Oh," I said slowly.

"He thought he was coming in to ask for a few days off, but as soon as he explained why, he lost it. I called his wife. He hadn't even told her yet. Then I drove him home."

"I take it he had been very close to his sister?"

"Yes." She paused. "I'm sorry I was so late."

I reached out and held her hand.

She stared at her plate for a while before she looked up at me. "I am pathetic," she said.

"You are not."

"I had to hire a girlfriend," she said. "No woman in her right mind would put up with me if I weren't paying her."

"You hired a personal assistant," I said. "Is it always like this, or is this week particularly bad?"

"I told you, the holiday season is rough on me. All the crazy in the world happens between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day."

She ate a little more before she pushed her plate away. I cleaned everything up then pulled her to her feet and brought her downstairs. We switched into dance shows and I found myself in her arms.

I could tell what she really needed was an excuse to hold me. Her heart wasn't in the dancing, but she clutched at me. I didn't mind. She apologized a few times.

"I have a stunning woman holding me," I said. "I'm not complaining."

We danced for about twenty minutes before she pulled away. I walked over and turned off the music then took her hand and led her to her bedroom.

When I started pulling her clothes off her, she woke up from her stupor. "This isn't a good idea, Madeline."

"I'm tucking you into bed, Karen, and will be giving you a backrub before locking the house up and retiring to my own bed."

She let me pluck her clothes off her then used the bathroom. She came out and climbed into bed, making room for me to sit on the edge of her bed. I turned the lights off in her room but let the hallway light spill in so I could see. I gave her a long, slow, gentle backrub, easing the tension from her muscles as best I could.

"Thank you," she murmured when I was done.

"You're welcome," I told her. I kissed the back of her neck and closed the door on my way out.

* * *

Friday morning I found a slow cooker cookbook and ran to the store. I put everything in the slow cooker. It would be available whenever Karen came home. After that I alternated between Christmas cards and decorating.

Karen got home at six. I was still changing clothes when I heard her come in.

We flirted over dinner and I lured her downstairs for a few minutes of dancing. Afterwards she thanked me.

* * *

Karen actually slept in Saturday, if eight thirty is sleeping in. She wandered downstairs.

"Madeline?" She smiled. "I was wondering if you would let me peek through your wardrobe. We need to decide whether I'm taking you clothes shopping."

When I nodded, she led the way upstairs and to my room. She stepped to the closet and started digging through my clothes.

She ignored the casual and business clothing and focused on the dresses, which admittedly consumed the smallest section of the closet. She turned to me and smiled. "Care to go shopping later?"

* * *

"What is the event tonight?" I asked on the way back from the stores. We'd had fun. My evening wear had taken a significant upturn with four new dresses, matching shoes, and the associated accouterments.

"One of the company vice presidents hosts an event every year. Some of our top clients will be there, some moves and shakers at companies we're trying to woo, and a lot of people from the office."

"And you really want me to pose as your girlfriend."

She glanced over at me for a moment. "Yes."

"I don't understand why."

"It's complicated," she said.

I paused before responding. "I presume you're gathering your thoughts, not refusing to tell me because you don't think I'm smart enough to understand it."

She sighed. "I've worked very hard to get where I am."

"I imagine."

"I'm tired of everyone else at the company lording their families and their happy home lives over me. I'd like a break from it for just a little while."

She looked over at me and there was pleading in her eyes. I smiled in understanding. "What's our story then?"

"The truth, mostly. Except the entire you're straight and I'm paying you part."

I laughed. "So we met, there was an instant spark, and I begged you to take me home with you?"

She laughed with me. "That is the lesbian cliché, isn't it?" She paused. "Can you do it?"

"I'm going to be so convincing even you're not going to be sure it's an act." I paused. "Especially if there's dancing."

She grinned at me. "Ryan, the VP, fancies himself a tango dancer."

"Ryan Freeman?"

"You know him?"

"Yes." I sighed. "He'd be a good dancer if he would stop trying to show boat."

"I know!" Karen said. "And he hangs on too tight. I'd accuse him of copping a feel, but he's actually a gentleman most of the time. How do you know him?"

"The local tango community isn't that big." I paused. "If you tango, why haven't we met before?"

"Jessica and I didn't go to local milongas very often."

* * *

For the event, I dressed in a little black dress. It was an amazing dress. It was cut low in back with an asymmetric hemline. It was below my knee on the left and halfway up my thigh on the right. I applied suede to the bottom of the new shoes so they would pivot better on the floor.

Karen wore a simple red sheath dress with black heals. She looked amazing.

I was done getting ready before she was and waited downstairs for her. I sat at the dinette table, working on Christmas cards. I looked up when she came downstairs.

"Hello, Honey," I told her.

"Honey?"

"Babe. Snookie-kins. Love munchkin."

She offered a severe look. I laughed, rising from my seat, and crossed to the room. "You look amazing, Babe," I told her, moving up and sliding under her arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting in character," I said, smirking. I batted my eyes at her.

"Stop that!" she said, laughing. "That looks utterly ridiculous."

I stuck my lower lip out, pouting, then lowered my head to her shoulder. She tried slipping away from me. "Oh honey, what's the matter?" I asked her. "Don't you like me anymore?"

"You're not really going to act like a vacuous bimbo, are you?"

I smiled up at her.

"Madeline," she said. "I'm serious. If this is how you intend to act, then this entire thing was a bad idea."

"Relax, sugar bumps. I won't embarrass you."

"You really don't want to go, I take it?" She looked annoyed.

I sighed. "So, you don't like your girlfriends pushing your buttons. Got it."

I stepped away from her and gathered my coat. I turned around and she was glaring at me. "Karen, I get it," I told her. "I'm sorry. I will be charming and brilliant and utterly, utterly professional." I paused. "But holding my hand will cost you extra."

She looked away. I stepped up to her. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I'm nervous, so I'm teasing you. I'll stop, I promise."

She looked back at me, pain in her eyes.

"Karen, I'm just trying to flirt. My favorite way to flirt is with verbal wit, although I am clearly not very good at it. I promise I won't embarrass you."

She didn't say anything and didn't look remotely convinced. I stepped away. "Fine. Have a nice time."

I stepped past her, heading for the front closet to hang my coat up, but she caught my arm to stop me. We stared at each other for a moment. I was about to shake her off when Karen said, "I'm nervous too. Please come."

"I expect to be pampered."

She laughed. "I promise." She started right there by helping me into my coat before putting on her own. We then stepped through the kitchen and into the garage, where she opened my car door for me before walking around to her door.

As soon as we were on the road, I began flirting shamelessly with her. I started by turning to face her as she drove, staring at her. When she noticed, she asked me about it. "I'm sorry, honey, it's just that you're so gorgeous, I can't take my eyes off you."

She didn't say anything, so then I put on a distant, dreamy expression. She glanced over at me, then glanced again. I offered a big sigh. The corners of her lips twitched at me. I sighed again. "Do we have to stay long? After what you did to me last night, I don't know if I can wait before we come home again. I have something special in mind for you."

She gave me a hard look. "You better be getting this out of your system."

"Oh honey, I don't think I'm ever going to get you out of my system."

"Madeline, please tell me you're pushing my buttons again."

"Oh honey bunny, you're my first girlfriend in a very long time, and I've forgotten how to behave."

"Honey bunny? Seriously?" But her mouth was quivering again.

I slid my hand onto her leg. She stiffened. "Karen," I said quietly. "Thank you for the dress. Maybe later I can show you just how appreciative I can be."

"Someone is looking for a spanking," she said.

"Ooh," I said. "Promise?"

I kept up the behavior all the way to the party. As soon as we pulled up in front of the house, I pulled back to my own seat and put on a proper air.

The house was huge. Absolutely huge. The drive went right to the front entrance, and there was valet parking for the cars.

"Wow," I said, looking at the house, then over at Karen.

"It's his wife's," she said. "Please behave, Madeline."

I smiled at her. "If I behave, will you dance with me, sweetie kins?"

Her lips quivered again.

The valet opened her door. She got out and received her parking ticket. She came around and helped me out, offering me a hand. I stepped out of the car slowly, then took her arm. Together we walked to the house. A doorman let us in and a maid took our coats. I grabbed Karen's arm again and smiled shyly up at her. Then I looked at the house.

We were in a large, two-story foyer. There was a curving staircase to the second floor in front of us with a central hallway leading deeper into the house. The entrance was tile, but the rest of the floors I could see were wood. There was a red carpet runner up the center of the stairs.

To the left was a double doorway, and it was from that direction most of the noise was coming from, although it sounded like perhaps the entire house was full.

Karen looked down into my eyes. "Please, Madeline, behave."

"You look beautiful tonight, Karen," I told her.

That shut her up, but she managed to turn us to the left, and we went in search of our host. As soon as we stepped through the doorway, I unlatched my hands from her and took on a professional bearing. Karen looked over at me, but I pretended not to notice. We began working our way through the house, Karen saying hello to a few people, but not stopping to talk to anyone.

I thought it was odd no one tried to stop her. Didn't anyone want to talk to her? Weren't they wondering who I was?

We found Ryan and his wife, Corinne, in the second room, standing together with two other couples I didn't know. I reached over and took Karen's hand as we stepped up to them, holding it just long enough for people to see.

Karen said hello and was about to introduce me. "Hello, Ryan," I said, giving him a little hug. "Corrine." I hugged her as well. "Been dancing lately?"

"Madeline!" said Corrine. "What a surprise."

Ryan looked between Karen and I. I held onto Corrine's hands for a moment before stepping back and taking Karen's hand.

Ryan introduced me to the other two couples, Ben and Sally and Mike and Wendy. Ben was a client and Wendy was the director of finance for Kilador. We made small talk. I eased myself out of the conversation after a minute or two, but Corrine pulled me back in several minutes later. "Did you bring dancing shoes, Madeline?"

"Oh yes," I said. "Will I get a dance with you?"

We chatted for a few more minutes before Karen turned to me. "Would you care for a glass of wine?"

"That would be lovely." I turned to Ryan. "I'll see you on the dance floor later." I air kissed Corrine then let Karen draw me away.

"You were charming," Karen said as she drew me to the bar.

"Thanks, snookie," I told her. "Do you suppose there's a quiet corner where we can make out?"

She gave me a double take before she realized I was pushing her buttons again. Her mouth quivered. We collected wine from the bartender then slowly worked the room. We joined a conversation between one of the company vice presidents and her husband talking to a client and his wife. Everyone was introduced, then Laura, the VP, told us, "David and Vicki were telling us about their upcoming trip to Greece."

"Oh," I said. "Where are you going?"

"We're flying into Athens, of course," said Vicki. "After that, we're not sure."

"Well, of course you need to spend time in Athens." I paused. "I love taking the train to Thessaloniki and spending a few days there. I like sitting in the cafes next to the bay, drinking that horrid coffee and soaking in the ambiance. But it's a long trip both ways." I smiled. "The coffee grows on you."

We talked about Greece for a while before excusing ourselves.

"Can I call you?" Vicki asked.

"Absolutely," I said.

As soon as we stepped away and no one was looking, I leaned against Karen and said, "How am I doing, my tall kumquat?"

"How many pet names are you intending to try out tonight?" she asked me.

"Oh, I'm not sure I can count that high, sweetie." I batted my eyelashes at her.

"Incorrigible," she told me.

"I'll have you know I've been practicing that in the mirror, apple blossom."

Her lips quivered again.

We worked the rooms for a while before I heard tango music. "Is there anyone you really need to talk to?" I asked her.

She smiled at me. "Would you care to dance?"

"I would love to."

She led me through the house to the ballroom on the other side of the central hallway. There were a few people standing around trying to dance to the music, but no one who knew what he was doing. I melted myself into Karen's arms. She weight shifted twice before stepping forward.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the dance. Karen kept things simple for the first song, and I resisted the urge to back lead.

For the next song she stepped it up a little and also gave me opportunities to offer flourishes. She earned herself a leg wrap, which I held for several seconds before stepping out of it. By the end of the song, she was doing a good job showing me off.

She tried to pull away but I quietly whispered, "Please, one more?" She held me and stepped forward when the music began.

Corrine and Ryan had joined us on the floor before the song was over. Karen pulled away when the song was over and was about to lead me from the room when Ryan interrupted and asked me to dance. Once we were dancing, I heard Corrine and Karen also dancing. I glanced over, and Karen was leading.

Ryan actually gave me two good dances. When we were done I told him, "You've gotten better."

He smiled. "You mean I stayed within my limits."

"I wouldn't have put it that way."

"Corrine told me she wouldn't dance with me anymore if I didn't take a few lessons and actually try to learn from them."

Then Ryan asked Karen to dance. They danced open rather than close. I turned to Corrine and stepped into her arms. She gave me two nice dances. She's a better dancer than Karen, but I realized that Karen and I fit together better.

Once we were dancing, Corrine started talking to me. "I am a little confused, Madeline. We haven't been close friends, but I was under a different impression about you."

"I was too," I said with a small laugh. "Then I met Karen." I paused. "We haven't known each other very long. Anything I should know about her?"

She was silent for a while. "I don't know her well. I only see her at these events. I get the impression she is very passionate about her work."

We settled into the dancing. After two songs, Corrine gave me back to Karen. I sidled under her arm, wrapping mine around her waist, then turned so I could whisper towards her ear. "Do you need to schmooze more?" She looked down at me. "I would rather dance with you."

"Two more songs, then schmooze a little, then more dancing?" Corrine and Ryan were standing near us, watching a pair of couples making a valiant effort to copy the tango we'd been doing. "Ryan, will it be tango all night?"

He looked over and smiled. "No, but I think you could tango to everything in the play list."

Karen pulled me back onto the floor, and it felt good to be in her arms again. I told her that.

"Are you teasing?"

"We should agree on a code for when I'm not teasing," I told her. "Right now, I'm not teasing. I enjoy dancing with you. You are warm and a comfortable lead."

She didn't say anything to that.

I got my two songs with her, then she pulled me from the floor and we roamed the house, schmoozing some more. I flirted lightly with her whenever we had an audience and outrageously when we were alone. She never outright laughed at the flirting, but I could tell she had a hard time controlling her responses several times.

We were between schmoozing groups when Karen was hailed by a man. "I've been looking for you," he said. Then he looked pointedly at me.

"David Jenkins," Karen said. "This is Madeline Burnet." She turned to me. "David is the I.T. manager at Kilador."

We exchanged handshakes. "Actually, you're the person my wife sent me to find," he said. Without ceremony he took my hand and began pulling me after him. I lost my hold on Karen's hand as I was tugged along behind David. He pulled me through two rooms before we found his wife, busily talking to two other women.

"I found her!" he said, presenting me to his wife. She was five-five, short black hair, wearing a red dress, and I guessed to be about forty. David was a little older than his wife, tall, and rugged-looking.

"It is customary to invite a lady to a conversation, David," his wife said. "Not drag her along behind you like an errant child."

Karen caught up with us at that time. I glanced over at her and she was smirking at me.

"Sorry," David said to me. "She told me to find you. I got carried away."

"It's okay," I said, laughing lightly. Then I looked at his wife.

She hit him on the arm and gestured with her chin at me. "Oh. Sorry. Madeline, may I present my wife, Laurie?"

She and I shook hands, then she described why David had dragged me through the house.  "I was talking to Vicki, and she seemed impressed with your travel knowledge. Are you well-traveled?"

I smiled. "I've been to a few places, perhaps more than most."

"Don't let her fool you," Karen said. "She's been everywhere." I smiled.

"David and I are talking about a trip next year," Laurie said. "He wants to go to Alaska."

"Amazing place," I said. "It sounds like you aren't convinced."

"I wanted to go to Paris."

"Oh dear," I said. "So it's not like you're discussing the merits of two different rugged destinations but instead the City of Love versus the greatest wilderness America has to offer."

Laurie smiled wanly.

"I've been to both. What would you like to know?"

"What would I do in Alaska?"

I looked between the two of them. I settled on David. "You like hiking and camping and fishing and all that, right?"

"Yes, and I've never seen a glacier."

"How about you?" I asked Laurie.

"They're all right," she said. "Is it pretty?"

"Stunning, absolutely stunning."

"I could sit at the lodge with a cup of cocoa and a book," Laurie offered.

"Alaska isn't a weekend destination," I said. "Would you be happy with a week or two of reading books?"

She frowned. I turned to David. "You definitely need to go, but you're going to need to bribe her. What is your objection to Paris?"

"Museums?" He said. "Tourist traps. The Eiffle Tower? It's a long way to go just to play tourist."

"The food is fabulous," I said. "I love sitting in the sidewalk cafes."

He didn't look convinced.

I looked between the two of them. "You could do a compromise vacation. Spend some time in Paris, then take the train to Switzerland or Austria and spend time hiking through the alps. See the Matterhorn. Stay in a remote mountain chalet. It could be very romantic."

The two of them looked at each other, speaking without words the way couples do.

"Or you can find a way to bribe each other. Go to Paris this year and Alaska next year." I turned to Laurie. "You need to let him have his Alaska vacation at some point." I turned to David. "And you need to take her to Paris." I paused. "You might both be surprised by how much you enjoy the two places."

We talked for several minutes. I couldn't answer all their questions, but I did what I could. They didn't come to any decisions while we were talking, but I had given them more to think about it.

A short while later I turned to Karen and said, "Snookie kins."

"Yes, sugar lips?"

I smiled. "Can we dance now?"

"Yes," she said. "But only because you've been so charming with everyone."

* * *

I continued to flirt with her the rest of the night. We eventually found ourselves back in her car, and I continued to flirt shamelessly. "I think you can drop out of character now," she said, frowning at me as she put the car into gear and we drove away. She didn't say it very kindly.

"All right," I said quietly. Up until then, I'd been having fun. I thought she had been, too. It was a stupid reaction on my part. I was her fake girlfriend, not her real girlfriend, so it shouldn't have bothered me that she'd asked me to quit. I sat quietly for the ride home.

We got home and I caught her in the kitchen. "Did I embarrass you tonight?"

"What?" I think she'd been thinking of something else. I watched her catch up to my question. "No. You were brilliant. Why did you think I was embarrassed?"

"Nothing. Good night."

Keeping Things Welcoming

Our routine settled in. I made the house look as much like a welcoming home as I could. I cooked dinners that were flexible so they'd still be good regardless of when Karen got home. I did more cooking than I'd ever done in my entire life, and I decided I liked it.

I took to baking in the late afternoons so that the house would always smell wonderful when Karen got home. I sent her to work each day with baked goods to share with the office. The third time I did it, Karen asked me about it.

"It's no big deal," I said. "I thought you would like how the house smelled, that's all." She looked away and I thought maybe she was upset with me. "I should have asked. You may not have wanted me to spend the money on groceries. I can stop."

"Madeline, it's a very sweet gesture. I hope you won't stop." She paused. "My grandmother used to make something. Have you heard of krumkake?"

"I'd have to buy an iron for it," I told her, smiling.

The next night she came home to fresh-baked krumkake. I didn't let her see the failures. She walked in at seven fifteen looking exhausted, then she saw the tray of krumkake sitting on the center island in the kitchen. Her eyes lit up and she looked at me in amazement.

Krumkake are a Scandinavian cookie. They are made on an iron similar to a waffle iron, although very thin. While still hot, you can wrap them around a wooden cone. They cool in that shape. I had dusted these with powdered sugar. I had to play with the recipe. I didn't like the recipe that came with the krumkake iron I had purchased. I thought the results were a little thick and doughy. I was pretty pleased with my later batches. I'd made enough for her to bring some to the office, but they wouldn't last long.

Karen looked between me and the waiting krumkake. "May I have one?"

"One," I said. "Don't ruin your appetite." I paused. "They probably aren't quite like your grandmother's."

She took one and bit into it, closing her eyes. She finished the cooking, leaning forward to avoid spilling powdered sugar down her front, her eyes closed the entire time. When she opened them and looked at me, her eyes were glistening. "They're exactly like Grandma's," she said. "Thank you."

She took two steps up to me and pulled me into her arms and kissed me.

The kiss didn't last long before she jerked away.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry." Her face had a look of horror.

"It was a nice kiss, Karen." I stepped forward and hugged her. "I'm glad you liked the krumkake."

She still looked embarrassed. "Do I have time to change before dinner?"

"Please be quick."

* * *

I got all her cards out. I made her sit down with me and write the ones she really needed to do herself. There weren't that many. She thanked me afterwards. "I would have put it off if you hadn't insisted."

* * *

She was hosting four events during December: a holiday party for her employees, a dinner party for her friends, Christmas Eve for her family, and New Year's Eve for a lengthy list of people. The first was the holiday party.

I actually didn't have that much to do for it. She gave me a list of names and asked me to buy little presents for everyone. "In the past, I've given gift cards," she said. "That would be fine this year. If you can buy them and have them ready, I'd appreciate it."

"These are for your employees?"

"Actually, they're for the spouses."

"Are you set on the gift cards?" She wasn't. So instead I bought little baskets and assembled pampering kits for everyone. I bought bubble baths, fancy soap, hot chocolate, sweets, candles, and whatever else I could think of then assembled baskets for everyone.

Other than that, I simply had to coordinate with the caterer. Before hiring me, Karen had already handled invitations, arranged the caterer, and bought a mixed case of wine, so my job was a snap. The caterer would provide all the food and two people to serve it and help clean up afterwards.

The party was set for the Friday after the event at Ryan and Corrine's. I baked like a banshee for the two days previously and was obsessive making sure everything was perfect.

The caterers arrived at four. I was already primped and dressed. I managed the caterers but let them do all the setup. Everything was ready to go by four thirty.

Our first guest arrived at five fifteen. Karen wasn't home yet. I met Erik and Mary. They were barely inside the door when Mary turned to Erik and hit him on the arm.

"I told you that your boss wouldn't be here yet."

I laughed. "Which is perfect. Erik, you can tell me all about Karen before she gets here."

Mary laughed with me and said, "You, I like. Where's the wine?" She looked at her husband. "You're the designated driver tonight." I took care of their coats and showed them where the wine was. Erik poured glasses for both of them while Mary talked to me.

"This isn't at all what I expected." She looked around. "It doesn't seem like Karen's style at all." She looked critically at me. "You did all this?"

"Some days I think the only reason Karen wanted me was for my decorating skills." Mary laughed, eyeing me up and down. "Somehow I think it's more than that."

I blushed.

"Is it true the house has a ballroom? I've never been here."

"It's true," I said. "Would you like to see it?"

"Absolutely!"

So I took them downstairs. I had a playlist running for music, and the place was lit only with the Christmas lights I'd put up. Mary's eyes grew wide when she saw it. "This is amazing!" She listened to the music for a moment. "That's not Christmas music. I suppose that wouldn't be politically correct these days anyway."

"It's tango," I said. "The dance of choice in this house."

Mary looked at me critically. "A dancer's body."

"Former dancer, anyway," I said. I showed her the computer that controlled the music. "Feel free to put something else on, if you want, but there's no Christmas music. It's all dance music. I should go back upstairs, but make yourselves at home."

Another couple and a solo woman arrived ahead of Karen. I managed to avoid giving her a dirty look when she came up behind me and apologized in my ear.

I turned around, melted into her arms, and pulled her lips into a kiss. She wrapped her arms around me automatically, but I could tell she was surprised. She broke the kiss, but I held her tightly so she wouldn't back away and ruin it all. "It's all right, honey. I'm glad you're home."

It was after eight before I pulled Karen downstairs, making a big deal about it. Several couples followed us. The music had stopped, so I put on some tango and changed my shoes then stepped into Karen's arms.

No one else tangoed, but we had several people watching us. When we were done, we got applause. Karen looked embarrassed about it, but sometime later, Charlie and Sue, two of Karen's employees, cornered me. Charlie said, "We've never seen this side of Karen. But now we know where all the treats are coming from."

I laughed. "I think she's just keeping me for the holidays," I said. "But we're having a nice time together while it lasts."

"Don't be crazy," Sue said. "She's madly in love with you." Then Karen wandered close and Charlie changed the subject. I didn't have a chance to tell Sue she was mistaken.

I flirted lightly with Karen throughout the evening, and we stood with our arms around each other while saying goodbye to the guests. As soon as the door was closed, I pulled away from her and checked on how the caterers were doing cleaning up. They were efficient, and the place didn't look too bad when they left.

Karen stood around watching, getting in my way a few times and looking out of place in her own home. Finally I told her, "I have it covered, Karen. You've had a long day. You can relax. I'm almost done."

"Are you angry at me? I'm sorry I was late."

"No big deal," I said. "I had it handled. I didn't come across as pissy, did I? I thought everyone found me charming."

"You were perfect," she said. "But you seem mad."

I turned to look at her. I didn't know what she wanted from me. She'd asked for a warm, inviting home. I thought I'd been providing that. She asked for a fake girlfriend in front of other people. I thought I'd done that, too, as weird as it was. I'd done her Christmas cards and handled her party. Finally I told her, "You're confusing me, boss." I stressed the last word.

She looked into my eyes.

"You were brilliant tonight," she said. "And the party was a great success. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I turned around and finished cleaning up.

* * *

Later in bed, I thought about the kiss I'd given her. I'd been disappointed when it ended.

She was definitely confusing me.

* * *

The next morning, I was relaxing downstairs when Karen came down. "Madeline," she said.

"Good morning."

"I was wondering. Would you cook for the dinner party next Saturday?"

"I thought you were catering all the events."

"This is six close friends," she said. "I can pay you extra."

"It's not the money, Karen," I told her. "It's my personal abilities. I'm not up to anything much fancier than what I've been making for you. I could try, but it wouldn't turn out very good. If you're trying to impress anyone, it would be a failure."

"What could you do, if you were going to cook?"

I thought about it. "Let's use an example. Let's say I did a turkey dinner. Thanksgiving was just a few weeks ago; people may not want turkey again. But let's say I did it anyway. I'd make boxed stuffing instead of real stuffing, and canned cranberries from the store instead of canning my own."

"That sounds lovely," Karen told me.

I cocked my head. "What are you trying to do?"

"They are friends. They would appreciate a home cooked meal. They know I'm not Suzie Homemaker."

"So I am?"

She smiled.

I sighed. "You're the boss, Karen." That seemed to pain her. "I'd be happy to do a turkey dinner for you and your friends."

"Thank you, Madeline," she said. She reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "I appreciate it."

The brief contact felt nice.

I waited a couple of hours and called Mom. I relayed the conversation. She helped me work out a menu that would stretch me slightly, but not too badly. By the time we were off the phone, I had a complete schedule for what had to happen when. I felt pretty good about it.

Then something occurred to me. I found Karen. She was in her office. "Are you going to do this to me for Christmas Eve, too?"

She looked up at me and smiled. "It sure would be nice if you could."

"You must really like turkey," I told her.

I called Mom back. "Are there any people in common between the two events?" Mom asked.

"Just Karen and me," I told her.

"Then use the same menu," she said. "And your silly boss will just have to deal with it. Do you need help?"

"No, but I might call you while I'm cooking."

She laughed. "I'll keep my cell phone handy."

"Thanks, Mom." I paused. "This is a very strange job. I feel like she's trying to turn me into June Cleaver, and that is so not me."

"You have always been able to do anything you set your mind to. This is no different than all the strange things you did for Marsha."

* * *

I spent the early part of the week finishing Karen's Christmas shopping, buying the last few presents I needed at the same time. I practiced making breads the rest of the week. By Friday I was pretty pleased with the results. I baked more krumkake and took care of last minute planning for the dinner party.

I didn't sleep very well Friday night. I had never cooked for a dinner party before, and for some reason, I wanted Karen to be proud of me. I did the last minute grocery shopping in the morning. The bird was in the oven at two. Throughout the afternoon I took care of the other needs.

I had a window of time at four thirty to get ready. I took my time to look nice, then went downstairs and put on an apron over the dress.

Karen was still upstairs getting ready when her first guest arrived. I opened the door to be met by Sally and Loraine. We shared introductions and I immediately drafted them to man the door and take drink orders. I headed back to the kitchen and ignored the bustle after that.

The other two couples arrived before Karen appeared. Loraine brought both of them to the kitchen to meet me. First were Steven and Sue. After that were Ursula and Irina, who spoke with Russian accents. I received hugs from everyone and compliments on the house, how wonderful everything smelled, and they'd already been diving into the cookies and krumkake I had set up around the house.

Karen appeared and apologized. She looked stunning. I looked harried, I was sure. I asked her to bring me a glass of wine, and when she did, offered her a cheek to kiss.

The meal was timed for six thirty. I drafted help for the last several minutes. Sue carved the bird. Ursula and Irina moved things into serving bowls and brought them to the table. I made the gravy and watched Ursula whisk it out to the dining room. Then I checked my list and looked throughout the kitchen to make sure I hadn't left something left hiding somewhere. I took my list to the dining room and scanned the contents of the table.

Everything was there and looked good.

I took off the apron, fluffed at my hair for a moment, then took my place at the dining room table. I was on the end closest to the kitchen.

Everyone passed the food around. I received compliments, which were nice to hear.

"I was expecting delivered pizza," Sue said a minute or two into the meal. "Madeline, this is fabulous."

Karen mouthed from the other end of the table, "thank you." I nodded to her.

The meal went well. I largely kept my thoughts to myself. Karen tried twice to draw me into the conversation, but I was emotionally exhausted and managed to extricate myself from her attempts after a moment or two.

I cleaned up while everyone else was enjoying after dinner drinks. Karen came into the kitchen, took one look at me, and asked me quietly, "Are you all right."

I turned to her and wrapped myself in her arms, laying my head on her shoulder. She held me.

"Was it okay?" I asked her. "It wasn't fancy."

"Oh honey," she said. "It was all perfect. What is wrong?"

"I'll be okay in a minute," I replied. "Please just hold me."

I drew energy from her then pulled away. "I'm okay," I told her. "Just being a silly girl." I turned back to the counter, wrapping up more of the leftovers. Karen stepped closer to me and wrapped her arms around me. I leaned back, resting my head against her shoulder.

Sue and Loraine wandered into the kitchen and saw Karen and I standing there. They walked up on either side of us. I saw Loraine look around the kitchen, then look at me.

"You two," she said. "Go collapse on the sofa. We'll put everything away."

"No, no," I said. "I'm okay."

"Honey," Sue said, looking into my eyes. "I get the same way at the end of dinner parties. All that preparation and emotional energy." She glared at Karen for a moment. "I make Steve handle everything the moment the food is on the table. Loraine and I will take care of this. You have earned the right to relax for the rest of the night."

I rotated in Karen's arms and put my arms around her neck. "Who else tangos?"

"Wait!" said Loraine. "You've got Karen dancing again?"

I looked over at her and nodded.

"You two go sit. We'll clean up. Then we'll all go downstairs," Sue ordered.

"You heard them, Madeline," Karen said, smiling at me. "Come on." She took my hand and pulled me to the sofa in the living room. She sat down at the end and I curled up into her. We had a moment alone. Karen kissed the top of my head. "Are you just being in character?" she asked quietly.

I looked up at her. "No. I'm sorry." I started to move away but she grabbed me and asked me to stay right where I was. I looked down but snuggled in a little further. "You feel nice, Karen."

She did. I didn't understand my feelings. She was a pain in the ass, but pleasing her made me feel so good. Being held by her felt so good, too. I didn't realize I had such a need to be appreciated. I thought back to my time with Marsha and realized I had thrived under her for the same reasons. She'd been exceedingly demanding and equally effusive with her praise when I had pleased her.

"Karen," I said. "I think I'm a junkie."

"What?" She looked at me. "You're on drugs?"

I smiled. "A praise junkie."

She laughed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

The rest of the dinner party wandered into the room and took seats. Ursula and Irina were each carrying extra wine glasses: mine and Karen's. They handed us our glasses and took seats. Sue and Loraine finished cleaning up, which I greatly appreciated, then joined us.

"All right," Sue said. "What's the story with you two?"

"Nothing special," I replied. "She refused to hire me as her personal assistant, then invited me to lunch."

"She was just so damned hot," Karen said. "I took one look at her and knew I wanted her."

"I thought she was stunning," I said.

"You did?" Karen asked.

"Don't be coy." I smiled at her. "But, well. I didn't think she was my type. She invited me for an expensive lunch and I thought maybe she would have contacts for me. So reluctantly I said 'yes'. I only flirt with her so she'll help me find a job."

"And because I dance with you," she said, squeezing me a little as she said it.

"And because you're a good kisser," I said, looking up at her.

The banter flowed around the room for several minutes before Loraine said, "So, about that dancing?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. Everyone filed downstairs. "Everyone tangos?"

"Um," said Sue.

"Jessica gave them lessons," Karen said. "Can you lead, Madeline?"

Karen put some music on. Steve took his wife, Sue, into his arms. Karen asked Sally. Ursula led for Irina, and I invited Loraine to dance. I led.

Everyone was basically a beginner, but that was okay. Loraine had a proper stance, and she followed when I weight shifted. She was okay with walks, but I lost her when I introduced some musicality, varying the tempo of the steps based on what the music was done.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I told her. "You feel nice to hold."

I kept things simple. She could back ocho but didn't recognize any other moves I offered. So I kept it simple and focused on being the best lead I could. By the end of the song she settled in and felt comfortable. We danced two songs, then I switched partners with Karen.

I danced twice with Sally. She was stiffer than Loraine had been. "What is the real story with you and Karen?" she asked me halfway through the dance.

"I don't understand what you're asking."

"You're too amazing to put up with her shit," she said.

"I don't like not knowing when to expect her home," I said. "But otherwise she treats me well. I am reluctantly between jobs, so right now I have some flexibility. But I don't want to remain a kept woman forever. I don't know if the relationship will last after I find a job."

"I hope you'll forgive me if I hope that is a very long time."

"My plan for networking through her friends isn't going to work?"

"No."

I sighed. "If you relax and try to enjoy dancing with me, I'll forgive you."

I finished two songs with Sally. Karen turned the music off. I turned to her. "That's all?"

"Well," said Karen.

I put a hand on a hip. "I slaved for days. I want more than four songs."

Karen mimicked my posture. "And we want a lesson. You'll get what you want if we get what we want."

I laughed. "Seriously?" She nodded.

I thought about it. "All right. Karen, you're a better lead than I am. I don't know if I can teach you anything."

"You can teach me to actually lead a molinete."

"All right," I said. "Let's show everyone what it is." I pulled her to the center of the room, stepped into her arms, and then said into her ear, "Slow steps then do a forward and back, I'll self lead it."

She stepped left, right, left, then her right step was backwards. I stepped forward with that but across her so that I danced a circle around her. Forward, side, back, side, until I'd walked all the way around her.

After that I made everyone work on the basic step pattern: forward, side, back, side, working in a straight line across the room and back. Then I grabbed each person and led them into a molinete with me leading. Steve laughed at being made to follow, but he did it. It felt weird to hold Karen that way, but it was nice, too.

We spent a half hour on it. They had it down after a fashion, and Karen was leading it a lot better, before I told them, "Now I want you to add it into your dances. It's best done in the corners. So at least once around the room, do a molinete. For now, it's okay if you tell you're partner that's what you want, but work on leading it properly."

Then I turned to Ursula and asked her to dance. She asked if she could follow.

We danced for another two hours. I followed with Steve and Karen but led with everyone else. I had never led that much before and decided I enjoyed it.

We eventually moved back upstairs. I curled into Karen again, her arm around me. By eleven, people started heading home, and our last guest was gone shortly before midnight.

"Damned early milonga," I said as we closed the door after our last guest. I took Karen's hand and pulled her back to the sofa. She looked confused but sat back down in her place, and I curled under her arm again. "Is this okay?"

"Yes, it's okay," she said. "You were amazing again tonight."

"Loraine told me something troubling," I said after we had cuddled for a few minutes. "She told me I shouldn't expect any of your friends to refer any work to me." Karen didn't respond. "I was hoping to lean on your contacts."

Karen still didn't respond.

I looked up at her. She was pointedly not looking at me. "Oh hell," I said. "You're hoping I don't find a job." I pulled away from her. She seemed reluctant to let me go. "I deserve honesty on this, Karen."

She looked over at me. "I would hire you myself if I could," she said. "Although I suspect you would eventually sue me for sexual harassment."

I laughed. "I don't mind your arms around me, Karen. You feel nice. You can sexually harass me all you want."

She smiled.

"Are you doing anything to discourage my job search?"

"Actually, I think you're going to have a flurry of interviews in January. I've already told two people they can't have you until after January second."

"Really?"

She nodded. "If you find a job without me, you are of course free to interview as much as you need. But I told my contacts no interviews until January."

I searched her face. "All right," I said. "That's fair." And I slid back across the sofa and moved under her arm again. I cuddled into her warmth, and we talked quietly for another half hour, the conversation growing quieter and quieter.

Then I felt her hand on my chin, and she lifted me to look at her. Slowly she lowered her lips and kissed me. It felt nice. I closed my eyes and kissed her back, but when I felt her tongue dance against my lips, I didn't open for her.

She broke the kiss shortly after. I opened my eyes and looked up at her, then reached up with my hand and pulled her into a second kiss. This one was shorter.

We stared at each other for a long time afterwards, are eyes only a few inches apart.  I pulled away just a little bit and said, "You're the first woman I've ever kissed, Karen. You feel nice, and I like the kisses."

"But?"

"The kisses are nice, but they're just kisses."

She caressed my cheek and I smiled again. "Okay, kisses and caresses."

She returned the smile.

I kissed her neck quickly then pulled away. "I think ending the evening on a positive note is a good thing."

* * *

In bed, I wondered why I had let her kiss me and why I had kissed her back. I tried to think if there was someone else I would rather have kissing me. I thought about my latest ex-boyfriend. It had taken some time, but I realized I was happy to be rid of him. I think I'd been more upset with how he'd left than the fact he'd left in the first place.

I lied awake for an hour but didn't come to any conclusions.

Wandering Eyes

Tuesday night was another event. Karen picked me up at six. A judge she had mentored with was hosting an event at his home. During the ride she asked me to be a little more circumspect. "He's very conservative," she said.

"Homophobically conservative?" I asked.

"No. But a little prudish." She paused. "And you should be there on your own merits. There will be a lot of powerful people there. Most of them are associated with law, but you might find some interesting contacts. Just don't act desperate."

Still, she held my hand when we arrived. I was introduced to the judge, James Landers, and his wife Megan. The judge was in his sixties and looked just like you might expect a judge to look like. His wife was impeccably dressed and coifed. I was glad Karen had bought me the clothes she bought me.

Megan asked how we'd met. We told a brief version of the story. Karen made a point of saying, "She has been amazing. Marsha Henderson told me Madeline was the best personal assistant she'd ever had, and watching her at home, I can believe it."

"Of Henderson Travel?" Megan asked. I nodded.

"I see someone I wanted to talk to," Karen said.

Megan immediately grabbed my arm and said, "Go ahead, but I'm keeping your girlfriend with me."

Karen laughed and wandered off. Megan began grilling me about London. "I've only been twice," I told her. "I'm not much of an expert." I answered her questions as best I could. Then she began pulling me around the room, introducing me to other people, and in each group she somehow dropped I was looking for a job and that I was truly amazing.

In the process, I collected business cards from two people who wanted my resume. I turned to Megan. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Anyone who can make Karen smile like that is all right in my book."

"I think I'm just a holiday fling for her," I said. "I'll be out in the cold in January."

Megan laughed then realized I was serious. "Oh Madeline, Karen never smiles. Never. But she smiles at you. I've known she preferred women since she clerked for James, but I've never seen her hold someone's hand."

I looked over at Karen. She was talking to another woman. She was well-dressed in a low-cut black dress with a dazzling necklace draped in place. She was leggy with long, blonde hair. It looked like an intense conversation. "Who is that?" I asked Megan.

"I'm not sure," she said. "But here. You need to meet Henrietta. She's a million years old, but she knows everyone in business."

Later I looked around for Karen. She was still talking to that woman, who had her hand on Karen's arm. I frowned and excused myself from the group I was talking to. I moved so that I was in Karen's line of sight and looked at her until she noticed me. I looked down at her arm and pointedly frowned.

She stepped slightly away from the woman she was talking to, breaking the contact. I smiled and went to refresh my wine. On my way back, Henrietta snagged my arm and kept me with her for a while. I couldn't figure out what she wanted, but if she could get me job interviews, I wasn't going to complain. But she finally released me and I went in search of Karen.

She was still talking to the blonde, who had her hand on Karen's arm again. I was getting a little pissed. I worked my way through the room, coming up to Karen's side on the arm the blonde was touching. I slipped under Karen's arm, dislodging the blonde, and said, "Hey, honey, who is your friend?"

Karen looked a little put out. I didn't care. I stared at the blonde.

"Madeline," Karen said after a brief pause. "This is Tessie."

"Hello, Tessie," I said. "Aren't you just the cutest thing?" I looked up at Karen. "You really shouldn't monopolize Tessie all night, Karen. I'm sure there are other people who want some of her attention, too." I looked pointedly at Tessie's exposed chest for a moment then smiled at Karen.

I didn't wait for a pause but just began pulling Karen away from the blonde. As soon as we were clear, I broke all contact with her, but I stayed by her side the rest of the evening. I caught Tessie eying Karen a few times, but each time I smiled sweetly at her from across the room.

We said our goodbyes about eleven. Other than Karen flirting with the skank, I'd had a nice time. I waited until we were two blocks away before I dropped my smile. "I thought you said you weren't going to do that."

"Do what?"

"Flirt with anyone else. Megan had just been telling me how happy you were to be with me, and I looked over and that skank was trying to rip your clothes off."

She glanced over at me.

"If you want a relationship with that skank, tell me. I'll get out of the way," I told her. "But it was rude to flirt with her in front of me. And if you sleep with her before I move out, I will give you salmonella poisoning. Do I make myself clear?"

"Madeline," she said. "You are over-reacting. Tessie is married."

"Ah, so she was just looking for a little something on the side?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I get it. You haven't had anyone in your bed for a while. A woman has needs, and lord knows I'm not filling them for you."

"You are being jealous over nothing."

"All right," I said. "Whatever you say. You weren't flirting with her. She wasn't flirting with you. I got it all wrong. My apologies."

We were quiet for the rest of the ride, but Karen made a point of hanging my coat up for me then grabbed my arm when I tried to walk away from her. "I'm sorry."

"For what? You said nothing happened and that I got it all wrong."

"I wasn't flirting with her. I kept trying to get away from her. But you were right. She was flirting with me."

"You were smiling at her, Karen, and you let her keep her hand on your arm."

"She was nattering on about something. I don't know what. I was smiling because I was thinking about you." She paused. "You're right, she's a skank. But her husband is important, and he dotes on her."

"He dotes on her chest."

Karen laughed. "Probably."

I slid closer and kissed her cheek. "You're forgiven."

* * *

There were no more events before Christmas Eve, for which I was thankful. Karen had warned me her family could be rough to manage.

"Are they going to snipe at my cooking?"

"My sister will probably find something to be snide about."

"Does your sister make krumkake?"

Karen laughed. "No."

"Do any of them tango?"

"No."

"Do any of them have the awesome body I have?"

She laughed again. "No."

"Then your sister can take her snide comments and stuff them in her Christmas stocking."

The morning of Christmas Eve came. Karen went to work but promised she would be home by three.

"If you are not here by four, I will tell your family about our relationship," I told her. "I am serious. You will not arrive late and make me worry I'll be greeting your family without you here."

She promised me she'd be home by three. I didn't believe her.

I ran around in the morning, making sure everything in the house was absolutely perfect. My present to Karen was under the tree, as were all of her presents to her family and the ones I'd take to mine on Christmas Day. I had several bottles of white wine chilling, and every decoration was perfect.

I gave myself a solid workout session in the ballroom downstairs, which I'd been using as my little gym. Full of endorphins, I took a shower and began cooking.

I baked fresh bread and a new batch of krumkake. The turkey was in the oven right on time.

Three o'clock came and went. No surprise. I called Karen. She didn't answer. I texted her. "You better be ignoring the phone because you don't want to pick it up while driving." She arrived ten minutes later. She got a kiss for being on time, sort of. We both went upstairs and changed clothes.

Karen's parents arrived first at four fifteen. There were a little early, but it was okay.

Karen's father, Fred, was a big man with a ruddy complexion. He was a business owner. Karen's mother, Rhonda, looked like a businessman's wife. She was slender, well coifed, and expensively dressed. Her throat, ears, and wrists all glittered. My greeting from them at the front door felt slightly cool, but Rhonda seemed to warm up as we moved into the house.

"Who decorated, Dear?" she asked Karen.

"Madeline did."

"It's all lovely," she said. "Did you hire someone to help?" she asked me.

"I hired a handyman to do the heavy lifting," I said. "He strung the lights and garland outside. He was quite good, actually." I paused. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on the bread."

In the end there were twelve of us. Karen's sister, Lisa, came with her husband, Bob, and their two darling rug rats. Karen's brother, Luke, was single, and their cousin, Chris, came with her husband and daughter. No one brought so much as a bottle of wine to go with the meal.

The two rug rats wanted to open presents right away. Karen tried to fetch me from the kitchen.

"If you want to open presents," I said. "Go ahead. I'm not leaving the kitchen until the meal is on. There's a present for you from me under the tree, and you don't get to open it until the morning." Karen made them wait, which didn't go over well with the two brats, but I caught a look from Rhonda that looked vaguely like approval.

The bread came out of the oven. Rhonda looked over from the living room and saw what I was removing. She got up from her chair and came into the kitchen.

"Fresh bread?"

"Yes. With rosemary and a little garlic," I said. "The ones I made earlier are plain." I looked at her. "I'm not sure the meal is going to be to your standards."

"I have had a lot of years of practice," she said. She looked through the kitchen to see what I was making. I had hidden the evidence I was making boxed stuffing and using store bought cranberries, but she recognized both anyway.

I shrugged and she smiled. "I'm happy to see you aren't completely super woman," she said. "Personally, I haven't made fresh bread in twenty years, and I haven't had krumkake since Mom died." She looked sad.

"You're being very kind," I told her. I poked my nose at the bird. It was due to come out in a few more minutes. Until then, I had little to do, but I was scared out of my mind.

"It isn't easy supporting someone like my husband or like Karen," she said. "The sacrifices you have to make to support their careers aren't for everyone."

"This is just for the holidays," I said. "I want a real job."

"This isn't a real job?"

"You had children to raise," I told her. "Being a mother is a real job. And I guess supporting Karen through the holidays has been a real job, but come January, that all changes."

It was time to pull the bird from the oven. I looked at it dubiously. I had wrestled it in, but I decided if I had a house with a few strong men in it, I could make use of them. I called Bob over and asked him to pull it from the oven for me. He did so with a smile and an appreciative moan at the scents wafting off the bird.

"All right," Rhonda said. "What would you like me to do?"

"Your choice. Run the stove for gravy and the fake stuffing or manage the process of getting everything else to the table." I paused. "Does your family have a tradition for carving the bird?"

"I usually do it," she said.

"All right, if you do that, I'll do the rest, and I'll draft people to carry it to the table."

I raised my voice. "Yo. Girlfriend. Get your hot ass in here."

Rhonda smiled at me for that. "You're good for her."

I told Karen I didn't care how, but everything needed to make it to the table. I worked at the stove, taking care of the last few things. I sautéed some green beans, made the stuffing, and made the gravy. Behind me I heard Rhonda do more organizing while cutting the bird. By the time I was done at the stove, everything else was at the table. Rhonda helped me bring the last few things out to the dining room, then we grabbed our wine. I took my place at the end of the table closest to the kitchen and Rhonda bumped one of the rug rats from the spot next to me.

We said grace and I listened to several complements on the meal.

When the stuffing came around, Lisa offered to share her stuffing recipe for next year.

"Lisa," Karen asked. "Did you try the krumkake yet?"

"Yes," she said with a small sniff. "They weren't quite like Grandma's, though."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. I was so hoping you would bring yours so I could compare."

No one said a word, but I caught Karen smirking at me.

The meal went well, and I could finally relax a little. Everything had turned out the way I wanted and Karen's parents didn't seem to hate me. I sat back and watched the family dynamics play out.

Lisa tried another gambit. She hadn't been paying attention. "Where did you buy the bread? It's quite good."

"Thank you, Lisa. Homemade bread can be a lot of work, so it's lovely being appreciated."

I decided that Lisa, Karen's sister, was jealous, and that was why she lorded her family life over her sister. I felt bad for Bob, as he seemed like a nice guy, but his wife struck me as a shrew and their kids were brats. I liked cousin Chris. Rhonda treated me well. Fred ignored me until Chris asked how Karen and I had met, and it came out I used to work for Marsha Henderson.

"I know Marsha," Fred said. "You're the assistant she always used to brag about?"

"Well, I was her only assistant for ten years leading up through this past June, so I guess it might depend upon when she was bragging."

"You've been out of work since June?" I nodded. "Why?" he asked.

"Frankly, Fred, I don't know."

"Maybe you've been setting your sights too low. You've been applying for other personal assistant jobs? Maybe you should aim higher. Come see me after the holidays are over. We have some openings."

I looked at Karen. "I'd want to talk to Karen about whether working for her father is a good idea, but I'd love to talk to you, even if it's simply for advice."

Rhonda smiled at me and patted my hand.

The meal moved onto safer topics and eventually wound down. I got up to clear. "No," said Rhonda. "You and I are going to relax. Those who didn't help in the kitchen get to do the cleanup."

"I want to open presents!" said brat number one.

"Yeah!" said brat number two.

"And you will as soon as everything is cleaned up and put away," their grandmother said. "And not a moment before." She paused. "Everyone who helped cook is excused from cleanup duty. The rest of you, do a good job. Or else."

Then Rhonda took my hand and pulled me to the living room. I went numbly after her.

"Sit," she ordered, pointing to the sofa. I sat. She sat down next to me. We chatted about nothing important while everyone else worked on the cleanup.

Fred excused himself first from duties and came to join us, carrying a bottle of wine. Rhonda allowed him to fill our glasses and sit down. The brats tried to join us but Rhonda said, "The sooner the cleanup is done, the sooner you get to open your presents." She pointed back to the kitchen. I watched as Karen put them to work.

Fred was chuckling. "What is it, Dear?" Rhonda asked him.

"Lisa's krumkake," he said, still chuckling. He reached over to a plate and took one of the last remaining krumkake from it and seemed to enjoy it. I was pleased. Then he turned to me. "I like you," he said. "I spent years in denial over my daughter's lifestyle. It can still be difficult to accept for an old codger like me. But I like you."

I smiled. Karen's parents were nice, and they were treating me well. I reached over and clasped Rhonda's hand for a moment. "I was so nervous," I admitted. "But you two are being so kind. Thank you."

"We love our daughter," Rhonda said. "And she hasn't smiled for a long time."

"No pressure then."

Rhonda laughed.

"I think I'm a fling for her, but right now we're good for each other. I don't know if that will be the case when I have a proper job again."

The conversation moved to safer topics for a few minutes before the kitchen crew declared things were sufficiently resolved and came to join us. We reseated slightly so I was in the middle of the couch with Karen on one side and Rhonda on another. The other adults took the available chairs. The kids sat on the floor. Chris's teenage daughter was tasked with handing out the presents from under the tree.

I had done Karen's shopping for her. She had given me a list of people and what she wanted me to get everyone, but she hadn't physically seen any of the presents before I wrapped them. I had supplemented some of the lists. Once the presents were passed out, I had one in front of me from Rhonda and Fred. Karen's present from me was back under the tree as well as all the presents to my family, and I saw there was another one under the tree. I chose to believe it was a gift from Karen to me. Everyone else had a couple of presents to open, with the children having several each.

The rug rats were actually pretty good about it. They took turns opening presents, and they were gracious about what they received. I revised my opinion from it and made a mental note to say something kind to Lisa and Bob later.  Rhonda's gifts from Karen were the theater tickets Karen had directed plus a pampering basket I'd added to it. Karen covered well, but she hadn't paid any attention when I'd run through what I had gotten everyone. After she had opened everything and the attention was off of her, Rhonda leaned to me and whispered quietly, "Thank you, Dear."

"Whatever for?" I asked her.

Rhonda simply smiled. I smiled back.

Rhonda and Fred gave me a delicate white gold necklace. It was understated and beautiful. I loved it.

* * *

We closed the door once the last guest was gone. I turned to Karen. "Your parents liked me."

"I know," she said. "You're my first girlfriend they've liked."

I sighed and looked away, then turned from her completely and wandered into the kitchen to see how bad it was. I was pleasantly surprised to see there wasn't any work for me to do. Karen followed me.

"You did a nice job cleaning up," I said. "Thank you."

"I had a lot of help. Is something wrong?"

"I didn't like deceiving your parents. I tried to control expectations, but they were eying me like their future daughter-in-law."

"Come on," she said. She took me by the hands and pulled me back into the living room. She sat down on the sofa and invited me to lie down with my head in her lap. As soon as I was lying down, she began caressing my face gently. I closed my eyes. It felt nice.

I fell asleep like that. Karen woke me after a few minutes and helped me upstairs. I took a hug from her before turning into my room. I pulled my clothes off and collapsed in bed. I was asleep in minutes.

* * *

We woke Christmas Day to a light fresh layer of snow. It was pretty. Karen was already downstairs when I came down. She got up and poured me a cup of coffee then pulled me into the living room. She had pulled the two presents out from the tree and set them on a coffee table in easy reach.

"My family has two traditions," I told her. "First, we pride ourselves on understated gifts that say something special about the relationship between giver and receiver. And we say something to the recipient when we give someone a gift." I set my coffee down and picked up my present to Karen. "Karen, this represents something you don't have, probably won't appreciate, but in my opinion, desperately need."

She reached for her gift to me but I shook my finger at her. "Please open that first."

"All right," she said. She opened it. I had gotten her a simple book called "A Cup of Christmas Tea." I'd gotten it for her because it represents finding joy in simple things.

She opened it. I'd left an inscription inside. "My lovely Karen, may you always find joy. I love you. Madeline."

She grew very quiet after reading the inscription then reached over and hugged me. "Thank you, Madeline."

"You may never figure out why I gave it for you," I told her. "But if you do, please tell me."

She hugged me tighter.

She picked up her gift to me and held it for a moment. "I think this needs an explanation after you open it," she said. "I'm sorry, I don't have something good to say first." She handed me the present. It was a small box, so I was expecting jewelry.

"That's okay," I said. I opened it slowly, savoring the process. It was indeed jewelry, a very attractive pendant necklace.

"It's beautiful," I said. I paused. "It looks familiar, but I'm not sure why."

She smiled. "It's the necklace I was wearing the day we met. I would very much like to see it around your neck."

"Oh," I said, touched. I had assumed she had gone to a jewelry store and bought something she liked. It meant so much more than she had selected something of her own for me. I asked her to put it on me, so she did.

I hugged her and thanked her. "I'll cherish it forever. Thank you so much."

We sat on the sofa drinking our coffee for a few minutes before I said, "Karen, my parents know the truth about our arrangement."

"I thought they would," she said.

"I would really like you to come with me today. I understand if you have other plans, but it would mean a lot if you came."

She smiled. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then I would love to come."

* * *

While Karen was in the shower, I called Mom. "Merry Christmas, Mom."

"Merry Christmas," she said. "Was Santa good to you?"

"Not so far, but Karen was." Mom laughed. "Mom, I hope this is okay. I just asked Karen to come with me today."

"Of course it's okay," Mom said. "We always have room for one more. Do you want me to say anything to anyone else?"

"You can tell Dad," I said.

"Is she coming as your girlfriend?"

"Good question," I said, laughing. "Honestly, I don't know." I paused. "What if she were?"

Mom was quiet for a moment. "Then I am even more happy you're bringing her."

"Dad would have a cow."

"No he wouldn't. He would ask whether she were treating you well."

"Well, not to worry," I said. "She's coming as my friend. There's no sex in this relationship."

Mom was quiet for a moment. "Honey, long ago your father and I talked about this. We asked ourselves, what would we do if you brought home a girlfriend, or your brother brought home a boyfriend."

"Mom-"

"Let me finish. We both decided that what was important was whether you were happy and being treated well."

"I love you, Mom. But it's not like that. I'm her fake girlfriend." I paused. "I admit I enjoy dancing with her, but you know me and a dance floor. I'll fall for anyone with a good ocho cortado."

Mom laughed.

"Do you want us over early to help?"

"That would be lovely, but don't feel obligated."

We hung up and I knocked on Karen's door, entering when she told me to. "Bathroom," she called when I poked my nose in.

She was wearing bra and panties and standing in front of the mirror working on her makeup. "Mom is looking forward to meeting you," I told her. "Would you mind going over early?"

She looked at me in the mirror. "Not at all. Should we bring anything?"

"I have their presents ready to go," I said. "Would you donate a bottle of wine? She's making a ham."

"I'll pick out a couple," she said.

I leaned against the doorway, watching her. She had her back to me. I could see her face in the mirror as she worked on her makeup. I pointedly checked out her entire body from behind.

"You just totally checked me out!" she said. She sounded amused.

"Yes, I did."

She laughed. "Do you like what you see?" She paused. "You've put four pounds on me in a month."

"Yes, I like what I see." I paused. "I had the strangest conversation with Mom. She asked if you were coming as my girlfriend."

Karen turned around. "What did you say?"

"That I wasn't sure." I relayed the conversation. She looked a little disappointed in the first part but impressed with my parents for the second part.

"So what was with checking me out?"

"I was thinking about something," I said. "I smiled at her. I was thinking that if I were going to have a girlfriend, I don't think I could do better." I retreated from her before she could respond, then said over my shoulder, "I'd like to leave by ten, if that's okay."

I didn't hear her response.

* * *

We both ended up wearing a blouse and skirt with black boots. "We match," Karen said when I came downstairs. I had taken my new necklace off to shower. I walked over to her and handed it to her, then turned around and held my hair out of the way. She wrapped it around my neck for me, giving the bare skin of my neck and extra caress. Shivers ran down my back at her touch.

She was smiling when I turned around. I'm not sure she noticed my reaction, but I thought perhaps she had.

"I don't know anything about your family," she said. "How many will be there?"

"My parents. My brother, Jon. Jon may have a girlfriend in tow."

"Older or younger brother?"

"Younger. He's twenty-eight, three years younger than I am. My aunt and uncle, Mary and George, will be there. She's my mom's older sister. Their kids are married with three kids between the two of them. The kids are young."

Karen was counting. "Twelve adults, three kids. Anyone else?"

"Not that I've heard. Dad was an only. Sometimes Mom invites a few others who would otherwise be alone for Christmas, but she hasn't warned me about any."

"Do you give presents to everyone?"

"Yes. We need to add your name to the tags. You can help."

She smiled. "Tell me more about them. Specifically, are they wine and food snobs?"

I laughed. "No." I moved Karen to the dinette table, handed her a pen, then started bringing her presents from under the tree. As I handed them to her, I told her who they were for and what they were. For some, I explained the story. All the guys were getting one present. The women were getting a unique present, plus I had made pamper baskets for them. There was one pamper basket left with no name.

"If Jon brings a girlfriend, this is for her."

Karen added her name to all the tags. Once we were done, we moved all the presents to several recycle shopping bags and carried them out to her car.

I gave her directions as we drove.

"Madeline, about what you said earlier," she said, once we were under way.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't do better than you, either."

I smiled. "That's only because you like having a stay at home wife. Once I'm back to working, you'll feel differently. Besides, so far I'm a lousy lay."

She laughed so hard she was wiping tears from her eyes. Once she had herself back under control, she said, "You're wrong about the first part. I admit the sex has been lacking though."

We spent the rest of the ride with me telling her more about my family. My parents lived in Golden Valley, only one suburb from Karen's home in Plymouth, so it wasn't a long ride. We pulled up in front of the home I grew up in. Karen let me out before pulling to the curb so I wouldn't have to walk in the snow. Then we collected the presents, treats and two bottles of wine from the trunk, taking two trips to carry everything.

"Hey, Mom! Dad!" I said after letting us in through the front.

"Kitchen, Madeline," I heard Mom say. I helped Karen with her coat. We left the presents in the living room and I pulled Karen to the kitchen, bringing the wine and cookies.

Mom and Dad were both there. They had been twenty-seven when I was born, so they were fifty-eight now. Mom didn't die her hair, so it was long and black with streaks of grey. I thought she looked amazing. She was small, like me, and was my source of grace. Dad was of moderate height and still had most of his hair, but he'd put on a paunch from years of Mom's cooking.

"Mom, Dad," I said. "This is Karen Greene. You've heard about her. Karen, my parents, Sarah and Mike Burnet."

Dad and Karen shook hands. Mom hugged her. Karen was surprised, but returned the hug. The four of us made small talk for several minutes before I asked, "How can we help."

"What's in the bag, Dear?" Mom asked.

"Oh." I emptied three plates of krumkake onto the table.

Dad's eyes lit up. "Krumkake? I haven't had that since I was a kid. Your great grandmother used to make it." He immediately stole one. "Where did you get these?" he said after the first bite. "They're great."

"Thanks," I said. "I made them."

Mom and Karen both took one, Karen giving me a dirty look as she ate the fattening goodness. She finished it and said, "You have new duties after the new year arrives."

"Oh? I was under the impression my duties would be relaxing after the first."

She smiled. "Workout partner."

I laughed then reached over and pinched her waist. "If you gained any from my cooking, I couldn't tell where."

"Calories don't count on Christmas," Dad declared.

"Well," Mom said. "These calories aren't going to cook themselves." She handed knives and cutting boards to Karen and me, and we began cutting up potatoes and carrots. Karen, Dad and I did whatever Mom told us for a while. Karen and I teased each other a few times.

Finally Mom said, "You two need to decide something before anyone else arrives." She looked at us to make sure she had our attention. "Friends or girlfriends? You're acting like girlfriends. How do you want to be introduced?"

Karen didn't say anything but looked at me.

Mom continued. "If you continue to act like this but are introduced as friends, then people are going to think you're hiding the true nature of your relationship, but hiding it poorly. Karen, Mike and I know you hired our daughter, but no one else knows you even exist."

I looked between Karen and my parents, suddenly confused by everything. I liked flirting with Karen. But I was straight. She wasn't my real girlfriend. And it wasn't like we were latched onto each other like a couple of lovesick songbirds.

Torn, I kept looking between the three of them. "Maybe this was a bad idea," Karen suggested. "I could go home."

"No!" I said, surprised at the intensity of my reaction. "I mean. I don't want you to leave."

"I would love to stay," Karen said. "But your mother is right. Maybe we should stop flirting."

"I like flirting with you. You make me feel good."

She smiled broadly at that.

"Oh hell," I said. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," Karen said.

"Fine," I said. "House mates. Friends. Dance partners. And I will flirt with you if I want to. It's your choice if you choose to flirt back." I looked back at Mom. "And people can think what they want."

And with that, I went out to set the dining room table.

* * *

Jon did indeed bring a girlfriend, a pleasant woman named Amber. I didn't think the relationship would last, but they seemed happy together. I found the present I'd brought for a random girlfriend and put her name on it. She was very surprised and pleased to receive a gift.

I flirted lightly with Karen throughout the day and she flirted back. Mom pulled me aside later and said, "Your father and I like her."

"It's just a job," I told her. "It's ending in a week. But thank you."

New Year's Eve

The run up to the New Year's Eve party was stressful. I coordinated with the caterer, made sure we had a sufficient alcohol supply, and changed out the house decorations somewhat. I kept the lights and garlands but got rid of the Christmas tree and any decorations directly related to Christmas.

Once all that was done, things settled down, and New Year's Eve day arrived without any major stresses.

Karen, of course, went to work. She promised to be home by five.

"And don't threaten me," she said, smiling. "I promise, five PM, no later." She paused. "Please call me at three thirty and again at four."

I laughed.

Invitations had said eight PM, so I had a relaxed day. It felt odd, like I was forgetting something. I kept roaming through the house, wondering what I should be doing.

At three thirty I called Karen. "Hello, girlfriend," I said.

"Hey." I could hear the smile in her voice. "Hang on." She muffled the phone, and I could vaguely hear talking in the background, then she said, "Talk to me. I am getting up and leaving right now."

"You're coming home early?"

"I wanted to spend time with you," she said.

My heart skipped a beat.

I talked to her until she got in the elevator and her cell phone cut out. She called me again as she was leaving the parking garage, just to tell me she had indeed left the office and hadn't been waylaid on the way out the door. She was home by four.

I was in the kitchen, checking on things that didn't need checking, when Karen walked in the door. She walked straight to me and pulled me into her arms, kissing me deeply.

I kissed her back, clutching at her.

"Wow," I said when she was done. "What was that?"

"That was thank you," she said. "For everything you've done." Then she took my hand and pulled me upstairs and to her bedroom.

"Um."

She laughed. "I want to change into something comfortable for a few hours," she said. "And spend time with you."

I smiled and sat on her bed while she changed out of her work clothes and into a bathrobe. Then she took my arm and pulled me back downstairs with her. We sat down on the sofa, and she pulled me into a cuddle.

"Is something wrong?" I asked her.

"Getting in character," she said.

"Uh huh," I said. "What is really going on?"

She didn't answer right away, but when I looked up at her, she looked a little sad. "Tonight is the last event. I don't want you to leave."

"Even if the sex is lousy?"

"Yes. Even if the sex is lousy."

She was sitting at the end of the sofa, turned slightly, and I was to her left, my legs curled up underneath me, as I lied against her, her arm wrapped around me. She was warm and soft, and it felt so comfortable. I snuggled in a little tighter and didn't say anything. We sat like that for a while.

"I'll keep paying you," she said after a while. "Not as much, but I'll keep paying you. Stay here."

"As what?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know," she said. "The way it's been, I suppose."

"Your fake girlfriend?"

She paused. "If that is what you want."

"No real job."

She was quiet for a while before answering. "No. You'll have virtually no living expenses except your car. I could claim you as a domestic partner and put you on health insurance at work. I'd tell the boss the truth, but we have a good relationship, and he'd let me do it. And I'd pay you."

"Karen," I started to say.

"Please think about it. You've been happy."

"This has been the best month since June," I said. "But what would I do? You've kept me busy with the events, but even with those I'm starting to run out of things to do. I'm not going to sit home and crochet."

"Is it my hours?"

"No. I need something to do."

"You could do volunteer work," she suggested. "Meet me for lunches a couple of times a week. Take cooking classes. I'll let you redecorate the house however you want. You could start dancing again. You can host events here as often as you like."

We sat quietly for a while. I thought about what she was asking. "I miss the travel with Marsha."

"I will take you anywhere in the world you want to go. The boss has been bitching at me to actually use my vacation time. I am supposed to use six weeks a year. I use about one. I couldn't be gone for more than two weeks at a time, but you could use my vacation time however you want."

"Karen-" I started to say.

She put her fingers over my mouth and then lifted my face to see her. Her face was filled with emotion. "Madeline, I'll give you anything in my power. Please think about what you want."

I buried my face against her shoulder and neck. "I'll think about it."

We cuddled on the couch for a while, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I'd never felt so good and so troubled at the same time. Then Karen's stomach growled, and I laughed.

"I have a salad for us," I told her. "With a little leftover salmon from last night."

* * *

The caterers arrived at six. They were only going to deliver food and set up, but were not staying to serve. They would come by on the second to pick up their warming trays and other equipment.

They set up quickly and soon disappeared. Karen went upstairs to get dressed. I roamed through the house, checking on everything, then also went upstairs.

I showered, coifed, then put on my most provocative dress. I examined myself in the mirror and decided I looked damned good. All the cooking I'd done throughout December had threatened to ruin my dancer's figure, but I'd increased the intensity of my morning workouts and so far hadn't gained weight. The dress showed off my figure, and it was backless, so I'd get to feel Karen's hand on my back when we danced.

I liked that idea.

Karen made it back downstairs before I did. She was fluttering around the base of the stairs when I came down. She stared up at me.

She looked fabulous. Judging by her reaction, she thought I did too.

I descended the stairs slowly and put a little sway in my hips. I watched as she checked out my legs. I smiled.

I stopped while still on the last stair. "Come here," I ordered.

She closed the distance to me. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her. It was a passion-filled kiss, although I still didn't give her tongue entrance.

"I like being taller than you sometimes," I told her when we broke from the kiss. She laughed.

I stepped down the last step and looked up at her. "We seem to have confused the relationship," I told her. "Does that bother you?"

"No," she said. She paused. "I wouldn't mind more."

I laughed. "If you spend the evening courting me, I'll let you kiss me like that again at midnight."

Karen smiled and slipped her arm around my waist. Then she realized the dress was backless, and her fingers moved up to caress my back. I shivered. After that, Karen made a point of resting her fingers against my bare skin whenever she had a chance.

People started to arrive shortly after eight. I knew a lot of them by now. Karen had invited her staff; some of them came. Everyone from the dinner party was there. I spent the first hour meeting people and helping to host.

At one point while I was asking Ursula and Irina about Russia, Karen wandered up behind me. She kissed the back of my neck and placed her hands on my shoulder blades, the fingers caressing me lightly. I sighed in enjoyment. She stepped up to my left, her right arm wrapped around me with her fingers inside the back of my dress.

I wanted to stay just like that for a while, but the contact broke.

A few minutes later I turned to Karen and said, "Why am I not dancing?"

She smiled, took my hand, and immediately pulled me downstairs. There were already a bunch of people down there. Music was going but no one was dancing. Karen pulled me to the far end of the room and changed the music out.

"This is now a tango dance floor," she announced and immediately pulled me into her arms. Her fingers found the skin of my back again, and she caressed it once before weight shifting and beginning the dance.

"Is this what you meant by courting?" she asked me in a whisper.

"Yes." We danced for a while before I told her, "I like the attention you give me."

After that, I didn't leave the dance floor until it was starting to approach midnight. I had one couple ask me to teach them the dance I'd been doing. I taught them the basic walks and directed them to a real dance teacher if they were truely interested. Sally and Loraine asked me to teach them something new, so I asked if they knew ocho cortado. They didn't. I grabbed Sally and told her to lead, then I back led my way through an ocho cortado a few times. I did the same thing with Loraine. Loraine usually led when they danced, so I taught her the men's part, then I led for Sally, teaching her the lady's part. After that, they tried it a bunch of times. I stepped in both as a follow and a lead to make sure it felt right with both of them. Soon they were on their own.

Karen wandered in and out. She made a point of caressing my back every chance she got, and I found myself pressing myself against her more tightly each time she did it.

"I've got your number," she said.

"I know," I said. "Are you going to take advantage of it?"

"Absolutely."

"Good."

Shortly before midnight, we moved back upstairs. We passed out glasses of champagne and counted down to midnight.

When Karen's tongue asked for entrance, I opened for her. I think she was surprised, but she took full advantage, then she had to hold me up when my knees grew weak.

When she finally broke the kiss, her arms were around me and I was clutching at her. Her eyes searched my face. I smiled, then pulled her in for another kiss, somewhat more chaste.

Then I found myself pulled into Ursula's arms and got a quick kiss from her. By the time the kissing was over, I'd kissed several of Karen's friends, including a quick kiss from Steven and a slightly longer one from Sue. Sue pulled me into a hug and began whispering in my ear. "Please tell Karen 'yes'."

"She told you?"

"She took me to lunch the day before yesterday and told me everything, including the whole fake girlfriend thing. Madeline, she's in love with you, and you are good for her."

"As a fake girlfriend?"

"I saw that kiss, Madeline. Were you faking?"

I didn't answer.

"Please stay with her. She needs you."

"Is that what all this affection is about from everyone?"

"No, no one else knows. I didn't tell Steve. Everyone likes you."

After that I pulled out of her arms. "I don't know yet, Sue. Maybe."

Karen slipped back up to me and ran her fingers down my back. My eyes glazed over at the touch, and Sue smiled at my reaction.

Shortly after, we were wishing everyone a good night. I had my arm around Karen's waist, and she had her fingertips teasing my back. We closed the door, and she started to pull away, but I pulled her back to me and put my head on her shoulder. She kissed the top of my head and continued to stroke my back. I let her do that for a few minutes before I said, "Help me turn off the lights?"

Instead, we found ourselves back downstairs. The tango music was still playing, and I found myself in her arms again. She danced me around the room until the song ended. I stared up at her before pulling away and turning off the lights. I took her hand as we climbed the stairs together.

Upstairs outside her room, we look at each other. She was teasing my back with her fingers again, but I pulled away from her and said, "I have an answer for you. You may not like it."

Her expression fell. "Can I change your mind?"

"No. I don't want to be your fake girlfriend anymore. If I'm staying, it will be as your real girlfriend."

She stared at me, and I could tell she was repeating in her head what I had just said.

She didn't answer, so I stepped past her, opening the door to her bedroom, and stepped inside, leaving her where she'd been standing.

"Have I misread you, Karen?" I asked quietly when she didn't join me. "Did I just hopelessly embarrass myself?"

She turned around and walked into the bedroom, stepping right to me so I was looking up into her eyes.

"My hours."

"You are mine from nine PM every night. You will give me one full day every weekend and one full weekend every month. I want more than that, but you will promise this much as a minimum."

She searched my eyes but still wasn't touching me. I let her think about it, but she just stood there. The longer she stood there, the more I started to wonder if I had completely misunderstood everything that had been going on.

I finally looked down, feeling hurt and embarrassed.

"Right," I said after we'd been standing there for a good long time. "I'm sorry."

I started to slip past her, but she pulled me into her arms, and the moment her fingers were on my back, I melted against her. I lifted my lips, and she began kissing me.

I parted immediately for her, and she slipped her tongue into my mouth, invading me completely. I moaned into the kiss.

This felt so right. Her arms, her mouth, her body, we fit so well, and I wanted her so badly.

She broke the kiss and looked into my face. She held me, not moving, not taking my clothes off, not taking me to her bed, and not kissing me again.

"I don't understand, Karen."

"I could accept you as my fake girlfriend," she said.

I started to pull away, immediately getting angry and hurt.

"Wait, please, let me finish," she said. I stopped struggling, but I was hurt.

"Are you just curious, Madeline? What's it like to bed a woman?"

"Karen, listen to me. I don't do anything without thinking it through. Do you want me or not?"

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life," she said.

"Then why am I still wearing clothes?"

At that she pulled me into another kiss, her tongue immediately invading my mouth again, and I surrendered to her entirely. The kiss went on and on, and I clutched at her, moaning, pulling myself more tightly against her.

She eventually pulled her mouth from mine and her eyes searched my face. I fluttered my eyes for a moment before focusing on her. "I don't know what to do, Karen."

"I do."

She had me out of my clothes in record time, touching my bare skin everywhere she removed clothing. She set my clothes over a chair then turned to look at me. "Please stand right there," she said, then began circling me.

I started to color from the attention, but it felt good to be appreciated it. She closed the distance to us and kissed me again, pushing me towards the bed as she did. She was still dressed, and I began grabbing at her clothes, but she pushed my hands away and pushed me up onto the bed.

"Madeline, are you sure? If you're not sure, you'll break my heart."

"Take me, Karen. I'm sure. I love you. I want you. I want you to take me. How else can I say it?"

She smiled then slowly began removing her own clothes while I watched, her clothes joining mine on the chair. Once she was standing naked in front of me, I eyed her up and down. I liked what I saw.

"You've never done this?"

"Not with a woman."

"Well then," she said, walking closer. She reached out a hand to the back of my head and guided my mouth to her breast. I took her into my mouth and used my lips, my gentle teeth, and my tongue to tease her nipple.

I loved her subtle, distinct taste on my tongue, and I began to suck greedily at her. She arched her back as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tightly to me.

My heart was pounding. Part of me couldn't believe this was happening. The rest of me was crying out, "Yes! More!"

I reached a hand down and clasped her bottom. It was small and tight and fit my hand well. I caressed her, still teasing the now engorged nipple.

She pulled away, then guided me to the other nipple, and soon it was just as engorged as the first one. She pulled me away, then pulled my mouth to hers for another soul-wrenching kiss. She pushed me further onto the bed, following me, never breaking this kiss, and I soon found myself flat on my back with Karen straddling me, her mouth still ravaging mine.

One of us moaned, perhaps both of us, before she pulled away.

"Are you going to change your mind, Madeline?"

"Please take me."

She pushed me flat against the bed with her hands on my shoulders, lowering her mouth to my own breast, teasing my nipples erect. I pulled at her with my hand, but she clasped my wrists and forced them to the bed over my head. She released my nipple and looked at me. "I am taking you. This is a one way trip, Madeline. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Don't stop, Karen."

My heart kept pounding in my chest, and I felt myself grow wet as she attacked my mouth. She released my hands, but when I reached for her, she grabbed them again. She pulled away. "Do I need to tie you?"

I looked up at her. "Is that what you want?"

"Sometimes."

"Now?"

She smiled. "No, but maybe tomorrow."

I returned her smile. "Do you hurt?"

"Never."

"Make me yours, Karen. I'll behave."

She shoved my hands firmly to the bed above me, and when she withdrew her hands, I left them there. She kissed me, and I closed my eyes. Then she lowered her lips to my collar bone and began to suck. I struggled weakly under her as she left her mark on my skin. When she was done, she pulled away and growled, "Mine."

"Yes."

Her hands began caressing me again, and then she reached between her legs, and I felt her fingers begin to caress the outside of my vulva. I began squirming.

"Are you sure, Madeline?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I can stop."

I opened my eyes. "Is that what you want?"

Her fingers spread my labia and I gasped. She gently pinched my clitoris. I gasped with the intense pleasure.

"What I want," she said. "Is to watch you lose yourself to me."

"Yes," I said, closing my eyes and squirming.

That was the last time she asked. She adjusted herself and began riding her hand, pressing herself against her hand and thus pressing her hand against me. She slipped two fingers into my vagina.

"Oh god!" I said.

"No god," she said. "Just you and me, Madeline."

"Karen! Karen!"

"That's better, Love," she said. She caressed my G-spot with her fingers, causing me to jump.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my juiced were flowing out of me, and I wanted her to take me, over and over. I never wanted to leave her bed.

She teased me for a long time, teasing my clitoris, my vagina, my G-spot. I was sweating, my hair plastered to my head, but never did I move my hands from where she'd left them on the bed.

"Please, Karen!" I began to beg. "Please."

"Mine!" she growled "Mine!"

"Yours, yes," I said, and I began to shudder. "Oh Karen!"

I felt myself contract around her fingers, squeezing her. My back arched as I thrust myself at her with my need.

I screamed her name as the orgasm blasted through my body, waves of bliss filling my brain and blocking out all thoughts but one.

Hers.

Hers

Afterwards, she wrapped me in her arms and held me, whispering quietly to me. My heart was bursting with joy. I fell asleep in her arms.

I woke sometime in the middle of the night, Karen's arms around me. It felt odd. She was warm. I rolled over, waking her. She rolled onto her back, and I cuddled against her. I began stroking her body. She lied quietly while I touched her. I kept stroking her, my hand growing increasingly daring until finally I rested it against the outside of her vulva.

Her eyes were closed, but her lips were parted.

"I may not be very good," I told her quietly.

In response her hand pressed over mine, and together we parted her. She guided me to her clitoris, then withdrew her hand. I could have found it without help, but I enjoyed the encouragement.

For a long time I teased her clitoris. She squirmed against my hand, and her breathing grew shallow and rapid. I ran a finger along her entire slit; she seemed to enjoy it as much as I had.

My head was resting on her shoulder. I could breath her scent and watch her face while my fingers continued to tease her slowly. From time to time she gasped.

"Is this right?" I asked her.

"Yes," she gasped.

She let me continue to tease her like that for a while. I wanted to see her come, but I wasn't sure how. "Tell me."

She reached down and moved my hand, pressing two of my fingers into her vagina. I slid in deeply, then curled my fingers, caressing her G-spot. "Harder, please," she directed. I felt her own fingers move to her clitoris, and she began panting. And then I felt her shudder, and she clenched around my fingers.

"Don't stop," she said. "Ohhhh."

Working together, we pushed her over the edge, and she whispered, "Yes, ohhhh," as she came, clenching and shuddering around my fingers.

"I love you," I whispered to her, receiving a new set of shudders from her. She moved her hand over mine and pressed firmly, then pulled me away. I took my hand and slipped my fingers in my mouth, tasting her. She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Oh honey," she said as she watched me.

My fingers were filled with her taste, and I decided I liked it. I pulled my fingers from my mouth and smiled. "I could get used to that taste," I told her.

She pulled me tightly to her, clutching at me.

"Is this real?" she asked.

"Yes."

She pushed me away and looked into my eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I paused. "Roll over, I want to hold you for a while."

She turned away from me and I wrapped my arms around her, snuggling as tightly to her as I could. I felt her shudder once.

"Are you okay?"

"Afterglow," she said.

She caressed my arm and we fell asleep again.

By the time we woke in the morning, we had moved away from each other. I woke in a strange bed with a strange view. My pillow smelled like Karen, and I remembered last night. I rolled over. Karen was watching me. I slid a hand towards her, under the covers, and she reached out and took it.

"Regrets?" she asked.

"No." I paused. "You?"

"No. Are you really sure?"

"Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"I've wanted you since you walked into my office."

I smiled. "I thought you were so stunning and brilliant."

We lied together, smiling and holding hands. It was all quite overwhelming, and the constant stream of endorphins was making me jittery.

"I want to ask you something," I told her. She nodded. "Is this permanent?"

She smiled. "It will be if I have any control over it," she replied. Her smile faded. "You may decide to leave."

"You will stay away from the Tessies of the world."

"That is one thing I can promise you. I will never stray."

"Then we'll work the rest out, Karen." I thought about it. "I can't promise I'll be happy without a real job. My ego may take a hit being a kept woman. It's a mix of having engaging things to do and personal pride. I've always been self-sufficient."

"I understand. But you're going to try? Maybe it's wrong, but I can't tell you how much I enjoy coming home to you, knowing you're here making the house so wonderful."

"I am going to try. And I like a lot of it, but it may not be enough." I paused. "I expect dancing every night, and I want you to take some lessons. I can't teach you to lead any better than you already do."

"I would like that," she said. "Can you find an instructor who can come here?"

"It will cost more."

"I probably need to tell you what I earn." She smiled. "We'll talk finances later. I want to get your hot body in the shower and do delicious things to it."

* * *

The shower was amazing.

* * *

Downstairs, I called Mom while Karen was drying her hair.

"Happy New Year, Madeline," she said.

"Mom, are you sitting down?"

"What's wrong?"

"Um. Remember what you told me at Christmas about bringing a girlfriend home? Were you serious?"

"Oh honey," she said. I could hear the smile. "Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"Does she treat you well?"

"Yes."

"Bring her over later. Your father will be watching the game."

"Let me go up and ask her." I walked back up the stairs and into her room. Karen saw me in the mirror when I stood in the bathroom doorway and turned off the hair dryer.

She turned around and smiled at me. "I'm talking to Mom. We're invited over this afternoon."

"You told her?" I nodded. "She's okay with it?" I nodded. "How about your father?"

"Mom, she wants to know if Daddy is going to shoot her."

Mom laughed. "Your father is going to ask her about grandchildren."

"Oh, I'm not ready for that conversation, Mom. Do you think that can wait at least a week or two?"

Mom laughed again. "No."

Karen was still smiling. "Is she asking about kids already?" I nodded. "Tell her there are options but we won't accept pressure."

"I heard that," Mom said. "And she's absolutely right. Please come over. Any time this afternoon."

"I should have just given the phone to Karen." I looked at Karen, who nodded. "We'll be there, Mom, but just for a while. Is one o'clock good?"

I moved back downstairs while finishing the call with Mom. I hung up with her and then went right back upstairs. Karen was getting dressed.

"This is my bedroom now, too," I told her.

"Yes."

"Good. As long as we're clear." I looked around. Then I walked over to her closet. It was full. I sighed. She followed me in, and when I turned around, she pulled me into a kiss.

"A kiss isn't going to distract me," I said once she let me go.

She laughed. "You may have either half of the closet. There's an empty closet in the basement. We can move the seasonal clothes down there."

I kissed her. "Thank you."

I grabbed her ass as I slipped past her. She squealed and followed me back into the bedroom. I looked around then turned to her. "My dresser won't match, and the others in the house also aren't this same style." There was room next to her dresser for a second one, but everything I had would clash.

"There's a business concept," she said. "If you have a problem that can be solved by writing a check, you don't have a problem. You have carte blanche on decorating the house, but we'll have to discuss the rate at which you spend money so there aren't surprises."

"I want us to do it together," I told her. "I want both our tastes involved."

We continued to talk while she got dressed. That part went slower for her, as I kept interfering. Once she was finally dressed I drew her downstairs and fed her breakfast. Breakfast was followed by a make out session on the couch, but we both stayed dressed. Mostly.

Resettling

I looked sadly at Karen the next morning. "I would have liked a few more days with you before you went back to work."

"I know what you mean," she said. "But no guilt trips."

"No, that's not what I meant." I paused. "But can I come have lunch with you?"

"I'd like that," she said. "Call me around ten though, because I never know when something is going to come up." She paused. "This is my life, Madeline."

"I know. I'm trying not to be needy."

"I don't want to go, either." She pulled me into a kiss.

After she left, I ate my own breakfast and began planning. I needed to arrange to have Handyman Fred help me take down the remaining holiday decorations. At the same time I'd ask him to help me move a dresser into the bedroom. I had moved a few things into Karen's bedroom, now our bedroom, but I wanted to finish that process.

I added more things to the list. Contact a tango teacher and arrange for weekly lessons. Look into cooking classes. Start the redecorating process. Begin planning dinner parties and other events. Karen and I had more to talk about on that, but I wanted to organize my thoughts.

Karen and I had talked about money last night. We decided she wasn't going to pay me. If she did, I'd have to pay taxes on it after she'd already paid taxes once. That seemed silly. I was to take over paying the household bills using her checkbook. This would include my credit card and car insurance. I didn't have any other expenses except health insurance, and she would move me onto her plan at work. For my own spending money I had a couple of credit cards and she would give me cash.

I really wasn't comfortable with some of the plans, but life is filled with compromise. I wanted a life with her. We had discussed the merits of us both having full time jobs.

"Madeline," she said. "If you just can't stand it, then by all means, get a job. But I've done this in the past. I really hope we can find another way."

So for now, we would try it this way.

I finished breakfast and decided my list was good. It was too early to make phone calls, so I started by taking down the holiday decorations inside the house. It left the house looking bleak afterwards. However, the garland was dropping needles all over and definitely had to come down. I put some of the lights back up, but it just wasn't the same, so I finished turning the house back into how it looked when I had moved in. The result was depressing. I moved "redecorating" higher up my priority list.

By then it was after nine, so I popped into the shower then dressed, making sure I would look nice for my lunch date. I got done and began making phone calls.

"Handyman Fred," he said on the second ring.

"Hello, Fred," I said. "It's Madeline Burnet. You helped me decorate a month ago."

"I remember, Madeline. What can I do for you?"

"It's time to take the lights down, and then I want to talk to you about redecorating."

"I'm busy this week," he said. "But I can come out any time next week."

"Monday morning?"

"How does nine sound?"

Next I called my favorite tango teacher. She and I talked for several minutes before I told her, "Candice, I met someone."

"Ooh, what is his name?"

"Karen."

"I didn't know you swung that way."

"Neither did I. Is it a problem for you?"

"Absolutely not. I'm happy for you."

We talked about Karen for a while before I said, "I was wondering if you would be willing to provide some private lessons at our home. I can pay you whatever is fair for making you come to us."

She loved the idea, especially when I explained about the ballroom. Then we talked about hosting small milongas here, and she said she'd love to be involved in that, too. We agreed on prices, and she would start coming every Wednesday at nine.

"I know that's kind of late," I told her.

"No, it's perfect. You know us tango dancers, we're up late."

We talked for a few more minutes before signing off.

After that, I called a local cooking school. Yes, they had classes during the day. While talking to the head of the school, she directed me to their web site. We spent several minutes talking about where I was now. In the end she said, "You're past our basic class. You could take any of our specialty classes. But you know, you might want to just start with the right magazine subscriptions and go from there. Then see how you feel." She gave me some suggestions, and I decided that was a good idea.

After that it was ten. I called Karen but was sent to voice mail. Instead of leaving a message, I texted her. "Lunch with my lover?"

She called me back ten minutes later while I was sitting in the living room, feeling somewhat overwhelmed about the decorations.

"Hey," I said warmly.

"Hello, you," she said. "I only have a minute between meetings. I'd love to see you for lunch, but it's complicated."

"We can make it a different day," I said a little sadly.

"This is a lot to ask, but I'd love you to come today. But I don't know what time to tell you. Would you be upset if you had to wait? Could you find something to do in my office? It might be some time before I could pull myself away."

"Would you like me to pack a picnic and we eat there?"

"That would be amazing. Come by around eleven thirty, but it might be after one before I'm free. Is that asking too much?"

"No, Karen." I made sure she could hear the smile in my voice. "I'll be there."

"Gotta go. Sorry." She hung up.

Just hearing her voice for a few minutes left me all gooey inside.

I poked through the kitchen and found plenty of things to turn into a picnic. There was no picnic basket, so I used a shopping bag and packed everything.

On the way, I stopped by a bookstore. I bought books and magazines on interior design and one of each of the cooking magazines they had. I drove downtown and parked under Karen's building. I brought the magazines upstairs with me.

It felt odd to be back in an office building. I hadn't been in one since meeting with Karen in late November, and it was now January. My life for the past month had been so far removed from this. I looked around and missed it.

The receptionist was expecting me. "You can head back. Do you know the way?" She pointed.

When I got to Karen's office, she wasn't there, but she had a new gatekeeper. She hadn't told me. "I'm Madeline," I said. "Here to see Karen."

"I don't have you on the schedule," she said.

"And you are?"

"I'm Liz, Karen's assistant."

"Pleased to meet you, Liz. I'll wait in Karen's office."

"No you won't!" she said, standing up and blocking the way. "The receptionist shouldn't have sent you back. We're not equipped for guests."

I looked her up and down and imagined what my reaction would be if a strange woman showed up and tried to barge into Marsha's office. I decided it wouldn't be a lot different from Liz's reaction. I smiled.

"Liz, I am Karen's live in girlfriend."

"She hasn't mentioned you and you're not on the schedule. You are not going into her office."

"I am glad to see she has someone so fierce protecting her interests," I said, smiling. "We're having lunch, but she asked me to wait, as her schedule is hectic. What do you suggest?"

"You can wait in the lobby."

"Why don't you grab one of the chairs from her office and I can sit over there," I said, pointing near the windows. "The view is lovely, and I brought things to do."

She wasn't sure about the plan, but then I saw Charlie. "Charlie!" I said. He looked at me for a moment then smiled and walked over.

"Oh, hello, Madeline. I think Karen is dealing with some crisis. Was she expecting you?"

"Yes," I said, "But she didn't tell Liz."

"Liz, Karen won't thank you if you piss off her girlfriend."

"Liz is doing her job," I said. "I just need somewhere to wait. Over by the windows looks nice."

"I'll get you a chair," Charlie said. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a chair for me. Liz continued to block the route to Karen's office and looked like she'd feel a lot better if I meekly went back to the lobby to wait. "Liz, I'll take responsibility," he told her. He pulled the chair over near the windows.

Liz didn't look happy. I was within listening distance if she were on the phone. I considered it. "You know, I can wait in the lobby. Thanks anyway, Charlie." I hugged him quickly and turned around, heading to the lobby. I arrived, told the receptionist I would wait here, and sent Karen a text.

"In lobby. Dragon lady wouldn't allow me to wait in your office." I opened one of the cooking magazines.

I got a reply later. "Sorry, forgot to tell her. Busy for at least an hour. Sorry."

I wrote back, "I love you."

I waited for two hours. I finished the cooking magazines I bought and started in on the design magazines. I finished them and decided I hadn't learned anything from them. I went back to the cooking magazines and started looking through the recipes, wondering what I wanted to try to make first.

Karen finally came to the lobby. "Madeline," she said. I looked up. She looked guilty. "I'm sorry."

I stood up. "Please don't feel guilty, Karen. I want an iPad."

She laughed. "Guilting presents out of me?"

"No. It would be all I need to bring next time I come and wait for you."

She helped me carry things to her office. We stopped by and talked to Liz. "Liz, this is Madeline," Karen said. "In the future, she is welcome to wait for me anywhere she wants, including my office."

"I didn't know," Liz said.

"And you did what I would have done," I inserted. Karen and I then stepped past Liz and into Karen's office. As soon as the door was closed, I pulled her into my arms.

The kiss was a little chaste, but it was still a nice kiss.

"I want to tell you something," I said.

"Oh oh."

"Sit."

She sat at the conference table where she had during our interview. I stood. "Lunch with you is worth the wait. Do you hear me?"

She smiled. "Yes. Thank you."

"I had magazines. I was going to read them anyway. I want lunch with you often, once or twice a week, if you'll have me, even if I have to wait. Do you understand me?"

"I love you," she said in response.

"Good." I caressed her cheek.

Then I sat down and began pulling food out of the shopping bag, showing her what I had. It was all leftovers from the caterers, but she seemed to appreciate the delivery service.

We flirted while we ate.

I wanted the iPad, but I didn't want to tap into my reserves to buy it, and I didn't have an income stream anymore. Karen hadn't told me to get one, and I wasn't sure if I should bring it up again. That bothered me and stayed at the back of my mind during the meal.

When we were done eating, Karen said, "There's someone I want you to meet." She got up, and I followed her to another corner office.

"Linda, is he free?" she asked the secretary sitting outside.

Linda looked at Karen and nodded. I followed her into the office.

"David," Karen said. "This is Madeline Burnet. Madeline, this is David Foster. David is the company president, my boss."

David and I shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Karen took my hand. David noticed it and smiled. "Oh, the woman Karen has been smiling about."

"I hope so," I told him.

"What do you do, Madeline?"

"I used to be a personal assistant."

"Used to be?"

"Marsha Henderson, my old boss, retired last year.

"Henderson Travel?"

"That's the one," I said.

"My wife was very disappointed when Marsha retired," David said. "But we have a trip in February booked through them."

"The President's trip? I think it's Sydney this year."

"Two weeks in Australia. If Marsha isn't running it, who is?"

"Well, for the last two years, I ran those trips. Marsha was going to, but she got sick. Now I imagine Caroline Henderson is running it. She's a good agent; it should be a good trip. I'll be interested in hearing what you think." I looked at him. "Is your wife Jenny?"

"Yes! I knew you were familiar. Madeline. That's such an unusual name that I should have recognized you. You showed us around Scotland two years ago."

"Oh, that was a lovely trip. I'm sorry Nessie didn't make a showing."

He laughed. "I wasn't really counting on seeing Nessie." He paused. "You're not with Henderson Travel anymore?"

"No. There wasn't a good fit for me after Marsha retired."

"Where are you now then?"

I laid my head on Karen's shoulder and smiled.

"Housewife?" he asked.

I nodded. "We're giving that a try."

He looked at Karen. "We didn't have anything for her?"

"She interviewed for my assistant, but she hasn't any legal experience. That was how we met."

"Hmm. Well, if something opens up, I know how to reach you, Madeline. It was good to see you again."

"I'll be interested in hearing how you enjoy Sydney. It's one of the cities I haven't been to yet." I looked at Karen pointedly. "That and Buenos Aires."

I shook hands once more with David before Karen pulled me away. "I can't take you anywhere."

I laughed. "You love showing me off."

"Yes, I do," she said.

Then there was a sound behind us. "Madeline?"

I turned around. David was outside his office. "I wouldn't suppose you're the source of the krumkake that's been outside Karen's office?"

"I am."

"Did you bring any today?"

"No, I'm sorry. But I'm not above sucking up to Karen's boss by sending some in tomorrow."

He laughed. "Good. Karen, you'll go far in this company with this woman fattening me up."

"We're out of krumkake," she said on the way back to her office.

"Easily remedied. Find out what else he likes."

She kissed me once more then helped me pack up. "Thank you, Madeline. You've brightened my day."

* * *

We settled into new routines. Karen's schedule was still topsy turvy, but she was far more likely to come home closer to six most nights. She frequently brought work home with her, but she was mine every night beginning at nine, if not sooner.

We had lunch twice a week, sometimes a picnic, sometimes she took me to a restaurant. On days we were meeting for lunch, I would bake something fresh in the morning and bring it with me, which earned me friends in the office. The receptionist's name was Hillary, and she loved snicker doodles. "My mom and I used to make them." David loved everything. Liz was hard to bribe until I discovered she loved my flourless chocolate torte. Karen's other employees would eat anything I brought them.

I started redecorating slowly. I talked to Karen about color schemes and styles. "Are you going to replace all the furniture?" she asked.

"No, I like your furniture. But I want new color on the walls, and I want to start looking for artwork."

"You don't like the paintings?"

"They're okay, but I want some sculpture, too. And that wall," I said, pointing to a two-story wall in the living room, "would be a great place for a big tapestry. I can change it out seasonally. It would be wonderful."

She didn't understand and told me that. "It's not that I doubt you," she said. "It's that I just don't think that way. I know the house will look so much better when you do what you want, but asking my opinion is like asking a blind woman to pick the colors."

"So you want me to just handle it?"

"Yes."

"Will you be upset if you come home and a room is in turmoil for a few days?"

"As long as it's not my office, it's fine."

Our first dance lesson with Candace was mostly about Candace learning what we, or more exactly Karen, already knew. She did talk to me about a bad habit I'd been developing, but most of the lesson was geared towards Karen. That was exactly what I'd wanted.

I called Candace the next day. "What did you think?"

"She has a good base to start with. Was there anything you wanted in particular?"

"I'd like if she offered opportunities for me to add more flourishes. She doesn't know how to secada or gancho. I think she wishes she knew how to invite a leg wrap."

Candace laughed. "Perhaps we should start with that, then. It would give her an immediate reward."

* * *

The sex was amazing.

It didn't take me long to realize that Karen loved making me beg. For the first several days of being lovers, she spent effort teaching me both the joys of receiving her touch and how to please her. But she also taught me that if she told me to do something, I better do it.

I learned that lesson the evening of our second Friday in January. We had been lovers for just over a week. She had gotten home from work and had a spark in her eyes. She gave me a soul-wrenching kiss in the kitchen and inquired whether I needed to give dinner any immediate attention. I didn't, so she took my hand and led me to the bedroom.

She immediately turned to me and had my clothes off in moments. When I reached for hers, she slapped my hands away. "Get on the bed."

I reached for her and she stepped away.

"Get on the bed," she said again.

Instead, playfully, I followed her around the room.

"Madeline, do not make me tell you a third time."

I cocked my head at her. I decided she was serious, so I walked over and sat on the bad. She smiled. "All the way," she said, pointing to the pillows. So I climbed up and lied down on the pillows.

Then she began undressing. She undressed slowly while I watched, her eyes never leaving mine. She hung her clothes up then returned to look at me. "Spread your legs."

"What?" I said. I immediately started blushing and crossed my legs instead.

She frowned at me, stepped across the room, and leaned against the wall, looking at me.

"I thought you wanted to play," I told her after a moment.

"I do. I thought you did, too."

"I do. Come play."

"Spread your legs for me."

"It's embarrassing."

"Why?"

I couldn't come up with an answer. I unhooked my legs and slowly spread them. "Wider," she said.

"Karen, please."

"As wide as you can, Madeline," she said.

"Oh god," I said, but I spread my legs as wide as I could. She smiled, staring at me, and then slowly began walking across the room towards me, stalking me.

She climbed on the bed and slithered her way up me, finally reaching my lips and kissing me deeply. Her tongue pressed against my lips, and I opened for her. As always, she tasted wonderful. She broke the kiss and moved down to my breast. Her lips teased my left nipple, and I squirmed under her. She pulled her mouth away from me and said, "Clasp the headboard, Madeline."

I figured out right then what she was doing, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to play. I stared at her and she stared right back.

"If you don't want to play, we can stop," she said.

"You're a-"

"I'm a what?" she said sweetly.

I moved my hands above me and clasped onto the headboard. "You're a really good lover," I said just as sweetly.

"One more pause, Madeline, and I will go downstairs." And then she lowered her lips to my nipple again.

Her tongue was very clever, and what she did with her teeth caused me to gasp in pleasure. Then her hands began caressing me while her mouth alternated from one nipple to the other. I squirmed and moaned under her touch.

"Close your eyes," and I closed them immediately. Seconds later, I felt her hand parting my labia and teasing my clitoris.

"Say my name," and when I did, her fingers moved into my vagina, teasing my clitoris. "Again," and I earned more attention on my nipples while her fingers continued to move in and out of me.

She continued to give small orders, and I obeyed every one, and every time I did, she increased the intensity of what she was doing to me. I got closer and closer to climax.

"Say you are mine."

"I am yours, Karen."

"Keep saying it." And I did, over and over, panting and gasping in between, and then the climax arrived, and I was screaming, "Yours! Yours!" over and over until I collapsed to the bed, spent.

She settled down next to me, pulling me into her arms and giving me permission to hold her. I clutched at her, weakly whispering, "Yours, yours" as I continued to shudder every few seconds.

I eventually stilled but still clutched at her. She stroked my hair soothingly. I opened my eyes and looked at her.

"I know what you're doing," I said.

She smiled. "And yet you are helpless to resist."

"You are conditioning me to obey you."

"Yes, I am, and you are going to love every minute of it."

"It's not going to work."

"Oh Madeline," she said, smiling. "Of course it is."

I pouted for a moment. She began caressing me. "Close your eyes," she ordered. As soon as I closed my eyes, she began teasing my nipples again. "If you tell me you aren't enjoying what I'm doing, I'll stop."

"Yours," I said instead.

She kissed me deeply before pulling me from the bed.

* * *

That set the stage for our lovemaking the entire weekend. And I loved every minute of it.

* * *

By the end of January we were hosting two dinner parties a month, with a milonga afterwards. We paid Candace to come, and she gave lessons.

Between redecorating the house, learning more sophisticated cooking techniques, and taking care of Karen, I stayed busy.

But every time I met her for lunch, I looked around the office and sighed wistfully. I wondered how long it would be before I stopped missing the excitement of my job with Marsha.

The one thing that didn't become a problem was Karen's schedule. Sure, I would have liked to be able to count on her being home at six every night, but I couldn't. So I saved the fancy cooking for nights I knew she would be home, and I cooked things that were more time flexible the other nights.

In return, she lavished me with attention and love whenever she could.

Unsettled

Valentine's Day was rapidly approaching. On the first of February, Karen told me, "Do not plan anything for Valentine's Day. I am taking you somewhere for a long weekend. I am not telling you where."

I had just started planning a romantic night at home, but a long weekend sounded wonderful. Valentine's Day that year was a Thursday. We left Thursday morning and drove the six hours to Bayfield, Wisconsin, arriving shortly after lunch. We checked into a beautiful Bed and Breakfast, and Karen had me naked five minutes later.

We spent half the afternoon making love, and it was wonderful. We took a walk around town after that, then got ready for dinner.

Dinner was long, romantic, and very lovely. I told her I was completely, utterly in love with her. She told me she felt the same way and that I was the best thing that ever happened to her. After dinner, we made love some more.

We spent the weekend making love, having amazing meals, and going for walks in and around Bayfield. It was pretty there with all their white snow. We drove on the ice of Lake Superior out to Madeline Island, which amused both of us immensely. On Sunday we made love again, then drove home.

It was an amazing weekend.

Monday, there was a crisis at work. Kilador was slammed with a lawsuit, and Karen didn't make it home until ten that night. Or Tuesday, or Wednesday. Thursday was midnight. Friday she called me and said she'd be working all weekend.

I offered to help, but there wasn't anything I could do.

I painted her office. She didn't notice for another week.

I wasn't mad at her about that. She came home exhausted each night. She stumbled home and went straight to bed. She didn't even want me to come upstairs with her, even when I offered to rub her back.

"I'm sorry, Madeline," she said.

It was impossible to be mad at her.

But I couldn't help starting to become bored.

On Monday she called me and asked if I could come to lunch. "Picnic?"

"No. Dress for a nice restaurant."

I showed up at eleven fifteen. Karen was in a meeting. I sat in her office browsing the internet on her computer until nearly noon. She walked in, and I looked up. She looked so tired and so beautiful. My heart was breaking just looking at her. I stood up, and she came around the desk, wrapping me in her arms and kissing me. We stood and held each other for a minute before she took my arm and led me from her office.

Over lunch she told me what was going on after making sure no one could overhear us. "One of our consultants did something stupid. It wasn't intentional, but it caused real loss for the client. They didn't have a choice but to sue us so that our insurance company would get involved. We've already completed the due diligence on what happened, and it's pretty cut and dried. There will be some sort of settlement, and now it's just a matter of negotiating the amount. That mostly means playing hard ball so they know we'll go to court if they force us to, then the insurance company's lawyers will negotiate."

"How long will you be so busy?"

"Another week, but it should settle down this week. I won't be home for dinners, but I won't be so dead, either. I hope you still want to dance with me."

I didn't tell her I wanted to find a job. She didn't need that on top of everything else.

* * *

By the end of February, I had finished the redecorating of the main areas of the house. I'd hired Fred for some of it; we painted the two-story rooms together, for instance, and he helped me install hangers for the tapestries I had bought. Karen loved everything I did, and as things had settled down at work, she showed her appreciation in the bedroom.

She was very good at showing her appreciation.

As far as I was concerned, my relationship with Karen was perfect. We connected physically, emotionally, and intellectually. Beyond the mind-blowing orgasms, she gave me something else I'd never gotten in previous relationships: respect. I also received something else I would never have guessed I would value: the knowledge that I was making her life much better.

That should seem obvious, right? Why be in a relationship with someone if it doesn't make your life better. But I'd never gotten that with the guys I had dated in the past. Sure, they enjoyed being with me, at least at the beginning of the relationship, but I never felt like I was critical to their happiness.

I felt fulfilled in ways I'd never thought I'd be fulfilled.

I loved most of it, too. I had never focused much on cooking, but I found I really enjoyed it, and I was getting pretty good. I had gotten to the point where even simple meals were artfully delivered. It wasn't just food, but it was also presentation. I felt proud about that.

The house looked great. My relationship with Karen was amazing. The home life was fantastic.

And I was bored out of my skull.

* * *

March came. Karen's work life was back to normal, and she was arriving home early on Fridays. The first Friday in March, I met her at the door. I helped her with her things and she pulled me into a deep, thorough kiss.

"I love coming home to you," she said. "Let's go upstairs and I can show you how much."

I smiled. "I wanted to talk to you about something first. Can we go sit in the living room?"

"Of course." I took her hand and led her to the couch. She pulled me into a snuggle.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Karen, I'm going a little stir crazy."

"Winter in Minnesota can do that," she replied. "It will be spring soon, and I was wondering whether you wanted to take a vacation somewhere? Paris is nice in the spring, isn't it?"

"You want to go to Paris?"

"I've never been. You've been everywhere, and I've hardly been anywhere. But maybe you would rather go somewhere else, somewhere that would be new for both of us."

Then she kissed me again, unbuttoning my blouse while her tongue was halfway down my throat, and my brain shut down. She led me upstairs and reminded me how much I enjoyed obeying her in the bedroom.

I tried to bring the conversation up again Saturday morning. We were lounging in bed, casually touching each other and just generally being in love.

"Karen, about the conversation I started last night."

"I'm so excited," she replied. "I am so looking forward to where you decide we should go." And then she was kissing me again, showing me new, clever things she could do with her tongue, and then soon my mouth was way too busy to talk.

So I started looking at places we could go. Over the next two weeks, I assembled four different ideas to present to her. I actually enjoyed it immensely. I assembled a basic trip to France: Paris and wine country. It would be a lovely trip. I assembled information on Buenos Aires, where we could experience the tango scene. The third trip I assembled was to New York City for restaurants and shows. The last was simple: a week at a resort in Northern Minnesota. I called that the love bunny trip, as about all we would do was stay inside and make love over and over.

After dinner on a Thursday night in mid-March, I presented Karen with all four plans. She looked at them briefly then looked at me. "Honey, all I care about is being with you. I've never done any of these, and they would all be new to me." Then she smiled. "Well, we don't have to go anywhere to make love, but the other three would be new."

"You don't have an opinion?"

"Not really," she said. "They all look fabulous."

I stared at her. "Do you want to go on any of them, or are you agreeing to go because you think I want to?"

She didn't answer right away, which I took as an answer. "I see," I said, gathering everything I assembled for her. I got up from the table, but everything away, and made myself busy by finishing the cleanup from dinner. If I had a place to go sulk, I would have, but there wasn't anyplace in the house that was mine. It was either hers or ours.

She didn't say anything for a while, but then I heard her get up from the table and walk up behind me. She put her arms around me and I tried to shrug her off.

"Madeline, wait," she said. "You don't understand."

I turned around to face her. "I know I spent two weeks putting those together, and you couldn't care less."

"That's not true." She paused. "Madeline, right now there are two things that matter to me. My job. And you. That's it. I have my job, and I come home and I have you. And that's a one hundred percent improvement from what I had in November, when all I had was my job. I am happy to have you here, or in Paris, or in Buenos Aires."

"Don't you like to travel?"

"Yes," she said. "But it's not important to me right now. I enjoy it, and I suspect I would really enjoy it with you. It would be an opportunity not to see the world, but to see the world through your eyes. But what is important to me is being with you. With you here, with you somewhere else, it's still with you."

"You're making it hard to stay mad at you."

She smiled.

"I want you to care," I told her.

"I care whether you're happy. I care whether we're together. I care what we do together. Do you want me to pretend to care where we do it?"

"You don't want to travel?"

"Sure I do," she replied. "And on a list of priorities to me, it's a top five, but only because it's important to you. Left to my own, it's maybe a top twenty."

"So you really don't care where we go?"

She paused. "Madeline, we are eventually going to do all your trips. I want to travel with you. It's not that I don't want to go, it's that I want to go wherever you want to go. So it's not a matter of which trip we go on. It's a matter of which trip is the right choice for when we're going." She paused again. When I started to speak, she held up a finger. "And something else to think about. Which of these trips should we plan with other people? Would you want to go to Buenos Aires with just me, or would you want to organize something with more of us, or perhaps go when Candace goes sometime?"

"You want to go to Buenos Aires with more people?"

"I didn't say that. I asked what you wanted."

I thought about it, then stepped into her arms and laid my head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me and held me. "So if I suggested a choice between, say, Paris and Pittsburgh, you wouldn't care."

She laughed. "Paris." She pushed me away. "It's not that I don't care. I think going to Paris with you would be amazing. It would be a fabulous trip. I don't have a clue what we'd do, but I know with you guiding us, it will be amazing." She paused. "Here's what I want. I want you to take me where you want to take me. I want you to show me what you want to show me. I know whatever you pick will be fabulous. I want the option to veto a trip. I don't, for instance, want to go anywhere that women are oppressed or that we can get into trouble if someone sees us kissing. I don't want to go anywhere an American accent is dangerous. I'd rather do the Minnesota resort trip in the dead of winter or during the swimming season." She paused again. "And I'd like some high adventure trips."

"Alaska?"

"Yes. Or even the Boundary Waters Canoe Area."

"You would go canoeing and camping?"

"Yes, if that's something you enjoy. But not during high mosquito season."

I laughed.

"So you want to go to Paris with me?"

"Yes, Madeline, I very much want to go to Paris with you."

"You're right about Buenos Aires. I'd rather go with more people. May I book a Paris trip?"

"Yes. Any time. I need at least one week's notice. Maybe make it a long week. Please plan for jet lag recovery on arriving."

And then she pulled me into her arms again and kissed me.

All was right with the world.

After that, she helped me finish cleaning up, then she suddenly stiffened. "Are you busy tomorrow for lunch?"

"No." I smiled at her. "Lunch with you?"

"Lunch with me. And David and Jenny."

"Ah, they're back from their trip."

"Yes. David specifically asked me to invite you to lunch tomorrow."

* * *

Friday lunch was fun. I met Karen at her office. We met with David and Jenny at David's office, then the four of us walked to an upscale restaurant two blocks from the office.

Karen flirted openly with me in front of them. I enjoyed the attention.

Jenny remembered me from the Scotland trip. "I had such a good time, and you took such good care of us," she said, once we had ordered our meals. "Not at all like the Australia trip."

"Oh no," I said. "What happened?"

David scowled. "Australia was great, but we won't be using Henderson Travel in the future."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I replied. Secretly I was also a little pleased to know Caroline had screwed up, and now I wanted details.

Jenny said, "We didn't like Caroline Henderson."

"Her husband sure liked you, Jenny," David said.

"Not as much as he liked Caroline's assistant."

I looked over at Karen. She clasped my hand.

Jenny looked at me. "Let me ask you something. Imagine you were organizing a trip to Australia. Everyone is going to fly in to Sydney, arriving at eight in the morning. What would you put on the schedule for the first day?"

"Check in the hotel and then small, simple events at the hotel so people don't go to sleep. Keep them up all day, early dinner, and let them go to bed early. Everyone's clock is going to be completely screwed up."

"So you wouldn't for instance, plan a major outing to the opera house for a show?"

I looked at her in horror. "Seriously?"

She nodded.

"We spent three days in Sydney."

"I would have made the opera house the highlight of the time in Sydney and planned it for the last night there."

"After that we went up to the Gold Coast."

"Excellent."

"By motor coach."

I thought about it. "That seems like a long bus ride, especially for a luxury trip."

"Caroline said she'd looked at a map and thought, 'It doesn't look that far'," David said.

"She didn't run the trip herself ahead of time?"

"She said it was her first time to Australia."

"Oh god," I said. "The entire idea of the President Trips are that she's supposed to be able to actually show you the out of the way places, the places a local might take a friend. You can't do that if you don't go there yourself first. You have to stay at all the hotels, or at least check them out, to make sure they are as good as they look. You do all the same travel so you know what the roads are like and how long it really takes. You basically run the entire trip. You need to know if a particular restaurant can handle someone in a wheelchair. The details are enormous. It's not a budget trip and shouldn't be treated like one."

"I paused. Caroline should know all this. She's attended several of the President's trips Marsha and I ran."

Karen asked, "Did she help plan them or just attend?"

"I planned them. By then, Marsha was the smiling face of the company, but I was doing everything behind the scenes."

"We never saw the Great Barrier Reef," David said. "That was my main reason for wanting to go."

"Oh no!"

"There was some snafu with the arrangements," Jenny said. "David was devastated. We sat on the beach instead. That was the alternate arrangement Caroline made."

"I got my scuba diving certificate specifically for this trip," David said. "I would sue Henderson Travel, but it's not worth the headache."

Jenny looked at me. "I have a question for you, Madeline." I nodded. "Are you secretly pleased to hear all this?"

"Why would I be pleased you had a horrible trip?"

"Your name came up with Caroline," Jenny said. "Not by us. Another couple, George and Betty, mentioned you."

"The Trents? Oh, they're lovely people," I said.

"George told Caroline, 'None of this would have happened if Madeline had been here.' Caroline's response was something about you should have kept your hands off her husband."

"That bitch!"

Jenny laughed. "That's the word Betty used later. We all saw how John was treating the women. I bet you couldn't keep your hands off him because you were so busy pushing him off of you."

I looked at Karen. "I don't think I should respond to that without my lawyer's advice. I wouldn't want to say something libelous."

Karen laughed. "Slander."

Jenny said, "I thought you might be happy to hear Caroline Henderson is running the company into the ground."

I thought about it. "Actually, I'm not. I feel vindicated, but not happy. Marsha spent her life building that company and giving it an excellent name. I spent ten years of my life helping her, and I was proud to work there. While I don't mind feeling vindicated, I would have wanted Caroline to have successfully carried the company forward. It's going to kill Marsha when this gets back to her."

Jenny paused. "If it's any consolation, we understand the fall President's trip went well. They went to Paris. Another couple on the Australia trip had gone, and they told us all about it."

I thought about it then started describing the trip. "Yes, that's exactly what they described," Jenny said when we were done.

I sighed. "That's the trip I ran two years ago. Caroline was along. It sounds like she duplicated the trip I ran. Those trips are supposed to be unique. You should be able to go every six months and have a different, unique trip. She shouldn't have duplicated one we'd done just two years previously. Going to Paris would have been fine, but the same restaurants and hotels?" I sighed again.

The food came. I immediately stole something from Karen's plate, then put my head on her shoulder for a moment before turning to her and telling her, "I love you."

She kissed me quickly, then we dug into our meals. During a break I looked across the table. "I'm sorry your trip was a disappointment."

"Australia was great," David said. "Beautiful country, and the people we met were all fabulous."

"But we need to go back," Jenny said. "With someone who runs a proper trip."

"We cancelled our fall trip with Henderson," David said. "We may just stay home."

"Hawaii," Jenny said. "I want to go to Hawaii in November." She looked at me. "I should be able to plan a Hawaii trip myself, shouldn't I?"

"Would you like help?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd never offer."

"Maybe the four of us could go," David said.

I turned to Karen. "How do you feel about vacationing with your boss?"

"How many times have you been to Hawaii?" Karen asked me.

"Just once, and it was years ago. I hardly remember it."

Karen laughed. "Hawaii would be lovely."

Interview

I was still going stir crazy, and talking about my old job just reminded me how much I missed it. I tried talking to Karen about it over the weekend, but both times she lured me to bed and did delightful things to my body. The second time she asked me whether she made me happy, and of course she did. I decided she was intentionally distracting me from the conversation.

On Monday I called Karen's father, Fred, at work. "Fred, it's Madeline."

"Madeline!" he said. "How are you and Karen?"

"We're great, Fred. We're looking forward to your coming to dinner on Saturday."

We small chatted for a few moments before he said, "I bet this isn't why you called."

"No. At Christmas you told me something."

"You want to talk to me about a job."

"Yes."

"Does Karen know you're calling me?"

"No. Is that a problem?"

"No." He paused, and I heard a computer keyboard clicking. "How does tomorrow at ten sound?"

"It sounds perfect, Fred."

* * *

I dressed professionally and met Fred at his offices. Fred owned a computer software company. I didn't know anything about computer software except how to use it. But he had sounded like he had a position for me when we had talked at Christmas.

When I arrived, he gave me a hug then took my arm in his and gave me a tour. He treated me like a daughter or daughter-in-law, not a prospective employee. Then he took me to a conference room and we sat to talk.

He started by telling me about the company. The company basically had five arms. The first arm was the group that wrote software. The second arm provided consulting services to customers including training and custom enhancements to their base software. The third arm was Quality Assurance. They tested everything. The fourth arm was sales. The last arm provided the basic services that every company needs including human resources and accounting.

Then we talked about my past experience, which was virtually entirely related to working for Marsha.

After that, Fred said, "There are two basic types of jobs we could talk about. I always have openings. We're always expanding, and my employees get lured away by other companies. There are relatively low level jobs with predictable hours and little stress. And there are the high power jobs with unpredictable, long hours."

He looked at me. I didn't say anything right away. Then he continued. "The jobs with predictable hours can typically be structured so that you could continue to do many of the things you currently do for my daughter."

"So I could continue to be a housewife."

"Yes, more or less."

"Like what?"

"Right now, we have two openings in the quality assurance department. You are not qualified for a managerial level position there. That requires a degree and experience in software quality management. However, you could interview with a hiring manager for an entry level position in software testing. I am sure you would be very good at it."

"Software testing." I was dubious.

"It's not as dull as it sounds," he said, smiling. "If you think of it as a puzzle. It's not enough to identify a problem. The job is best served by someone who can really pin the problems down. It's a job that's a mix of art, science, and dogged determination. Some people really thrive at that."

"Does it pay well?"

"Not particularly. I know what my daughter makes, and I know she would be very upset if you took this job for the money. Frankly, you would be better served finding volunteer work."

"But it's her money, not my money."

"There's a difference?" He waved it away. "We can talk about that more if you like. At the other end of the spectrum I have two high level positions, either one of which may interest you far more. First, sales."

"I don't have any sales training."

"No, but you interact well with people. We have inside sales and outside sales. Inside sales people spend their lives on the telephone, trying to drum up leads. It is largely a numbers game. You talk to enough people, you find someone who is willing to talk to you. You talk to enough people, and some of those will be interested. Over time, your numbers improve, so you become more successful generating leads. The position starts at a paltry salary as you are learning and becomes commissioned as you start to generate leads. Good inside sales people can earn a significant amount of money, but the ones that do work long hours."

He paused. "There is also outside sales. For that you would start as an associate, which would basically be an assistant to another sales person. You would probably be an associate for one to four years, depending upon how quickly you learned to sell on your own. Associates who want to move past associate typically work sixty to eighty hour weeks. And there is a lot of travel."

He waited for that to sink in.

"We also need account representatives in the services department. For you, it would be a managerial type of position, but you are managing processes more than people. Long hours and a lot of travel. You would spend weeks at a time at a client site, multiple times a year."

"I'm not afraid of long hours," I told him. "I'm used to it. And I like to travel."

"Our clients are in places like Topeka and Cleveland."

"Not exactly tourist destinations."

"No."

"Are you actually offering me one of these positions?"

"I am telling you of the positions you might consider here. I believe I could hire you for any of the jobs we just talked about." He paused. "I won't hire you without both my wife's and my daughter's blessings."

"Would you be hiring me just because I am Karen's girlfriend?"

"No. I'd be hiring someone I thought could do a good job."

At that point he waved to someone outside the conference room. I turned around, and Rhonda was standing there. "Hello, Madeline," Rhonda said, crossing the room to me. I stood up and she gave me a warm hug.

"Hello, Rhonda," I said. "I wasn't expecting you here."

"I came to take you to lunch," she said. "I'd make it a liquid lunch, but I presume you drove." She turned to Fred. "I will see you this evening, Fred." She kissed his cheek then grabbed my arm and began pulling me to the door.

I stopped her and turned to Fred. "Thank you for meeting with me," I told him.

"Your next step, Madeline, is to gain those blessings. Then come back."

I nodded, then Rhonda tugged me to the door.

* * *

She took me to a nearby upscale restaurant. Both the service and the food were impeccable. I tried to order a salad, but she became offended and ordered for me. The salmon was wonderful.

"Did you tell my daughter you were meeting with Fred?"

"I've tried talking to her about it, but every time I bring it up, she-" I began to blush.

"Changes the subject?" Rhonda offered.

"Yes. She changes the subject. She's very good at it." And then my blush deepened. Rhonda pretended not to notice.

"Why do you want a job?"

I thought about it. "Two reasons. I don't like asking if I can spend money on something I want for myself, and I'm bored out of my mind. I miss working in an office and interacting with people every day. I miss the challenge and the pride that comes from doing a good job."

Rhonda nodded.

"Are you here to talk me out of it?"

"Not at all," she said. "But you seem to be confused about a few things."

"I don't think so."

She smiled. "Well, let us talk about money for a moment. Why do you feel you need to ask permission to spend money?"

"It's not my money. Every dime I spend now comes from Karen. I didn't earn any of it."

"Oh Madeline, every dime she makes is yours."

"No it's not. It's hers."

Rhonda frowned. "Has she told you no when you've asked her if you could buy something?"

"Yes." Rhonda raised an eyebrow. "I asked if I could buy an iPad. I wanted it primarily so when I'm waiting for her when going to lunch, I didn't need to carry anything else to give myself something to do."

Rhonda reached into her purse. "You mean one of these?" She pulled out an iPad. I nodded. "I find it inconceivable Karen told you that you couldn't buy one. Is that really what happened?"

I thought about it. "I told her I wanted one, she asked why, and then she didn't tell me I could buy one."

"Which means yes."

"Which means no."

"Oh honey," Rhonda said.

"It's her money. I can't just spend her money. I feel guilty already taking free room and board. She's paying my car and health insurance and covers my credit card bills. I'm a kept woman, and all she gets from me is sex."

"That is the stupidest thing you have ever said in my presence," Rhonda told me. "She gets happiness from you. She gets a home worth coming home to. She gets very well hosted events. She gets to call her mother twice a week with a dreamy, happy sound in her voice, a sound I thought I would never hear. She gets warm meals and dances and a safe haven, so when her days at work are so long and terrible, she has something to look forward to that night."

"But-"

Rhonda held up her finger. "Karen was happy for a while, several years ago."

"With Jessica."

"Yes. Do you know why Jessica left?"

"Karen's hours."

"Right, but it's not as simple as that. But I won't tell you more unless you promise you'll never tell my daughter we had this conversation."

"Cross my heart," I said.

"When Karen and Jessica met, Karen was one of the lawyers at Kilador, but she wasn't the head of the department. Her hours were much more predictable. Jessica also had her own job, but it was a nine to five job, and Karen worked seven to five. It worked out well. But then Karen earned the promotion to head of the department, and everything changed. Eventually Jessica left."

"I thought it was something like that."

"For a time, Karen was happy, but not the same level of happiness she is with you. And she was proud of Jessica, but not the way she is with you."

"And if I take a job, I'm going to ruin that."

"That's not where I'm going," Rhonda said. "Where I am going is very simple. You make Karen happy. What price could you possibly put on that?"

"You can't put a price on happiness," I said.

"No. But imagine you are in Karen's position making the money she is making. What do you think she'd pay for the happiness you give her, if it could be bought at the store?"

I looked away, not answering.

"Every penny. Madeline, you know, she'd pay every penny."

"It's not my money," I said quietly.

"Poppycock," Rhonda said. "Karen's job is to make the money. Your job is to spend it. That's the contract between the two of you."

I looked back at Rhonda. "No, that's the agreement between you and Fred. But Karen and I aren't married, and we can never be married."

"Maybe not in the eyes of the government," Rhonda said. "But what do you think you are in her eyes? What is she in your eyes? What do you want her to be?"

I didn't say anything. Rhonda pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed a number. "It's your mother," she said. "I'm at lunch with your wife. I'm putting you on speakerphone."

She set the phone on the table between us and pressed a button.

"Madeline?"

"Hey, Karen."

"I didn't know you were having lunch with mom."

I laughed. "Neither did I."

Rhonda spoke up. "Karen, your wife is a little confused about a few things. I'm handling it."

"I like that word," Karen said. I could hear the smile. "I probably should have asked her before you did it for me, Mom."

"I want a ring and a proper proposal!"

Rhonda smiled at me. "Karen," she said. "What is Madeline's spending limit before she has to talk to you?"

"I don't know," Karen said. "I suppose whatever fits on her credit cards."

"So ten grand?"

"Yeah, I guess," Karen said. "If she spent that every month, we'd have to talk about it."

"But-" I started to say.

Rhonda held up a finger. "So, if she wanted to go clothes shopping or buy a new computer, that's okay?"

There was silence for a moment. "Madeline? You haven't been buying the things you want? I just assumed-"

"I will take care of this, Karen," Rhonda said. "I just wanted to be sure I understood the situation."

"I thought-" Karen said. "You and Daddy."

"Of course," said Rhonda. "Have you bought a ring yet?"

"Mom, take me off speaker."

Rhonda picked up the phone and put it to her ear. She listened to Karen for a while. "I'm sorry," she said. There was a pause. "I'll take care of that part." There was another pause and she handed the phone to me.

"Karen?"

"Madeline, I love you."

"I love you too."

"Listen to my mother."

"All right."

"Madeline, I'm sorry. I just assumed."

"It's okay."

"I love you, Madeline." And then we said goodbye.

I gave the phone back to Rhonda, who put it back in her purse.

She looked at me. "I ruined her surprise. I'm sorry."

"She's going to ask me to marry her?"

"I don't know anything about that," she said. She was smiling.

The waitress chose the same moment I started crying to bring our food to the table. Rhonda handed me a tissue and told the waitress we were fine. I dried my tears and covered my embarrassment by diving into my lunch.

We ate quietly before Rhonda said, "Karen's job is to make the money. Your job is to spend it. Wisely. I don't recommend maxing the credit cards every month."

"She gave me full access to her bank accounts. I thought she was being foolish."

"She probably also told you how she does her investing at work."

"Yes, and I told her for the amount she makes, she could be doing a Roth IRA as well. She told me to handle it."

"Starting to understand?"

I nodded.

"Remember. Wisely."

"I understand. She has put more trust in me than I realized. I wouldn't violate that."

"Good."

We finished our meals before talking further. I thought about everything.

"So no job?" I said eventually.

"Not if it's about money," Rhonda said. "Being bored out of your mind, though, that's a second conversation."

"But everything we just talked about, that has strings attached. Karen is treating me like Fred treats you. A housewife. But I can't have her children."

"Our children have been out of the house for a long time, but I still keep the same habits." She paused. "Yes, Karen wants a housewife. Fred and I have had a very good marriage, and she grew up seeing that. She wants the same thing. But more important than that, she wants you to be happy."

"I am happy. Mostly. If I get a job, will I lose Karen?"

"I don't know."

"It's not worth losing Karen."

Rhonda smiled hugely.

"But I still don't know what to do."

"Madeline, you are a very smart woman. Think outside the box. It might take you some time, but you'll find the proper solution."

The waitress came by. We declined dessert, and Rhonda handed her a credit card for the bill.

Rhonda turned to me. "Madeline, you need to understand this. My Fred and your Karen need us. They both look like they are fine on their own, but they aren't. Their heads are filled with their jobs. There isn't any room for all the other things that go into life. They need our heads to handle absolutely everything else. They also need the warmth we offer when they come home at night. They need the things we give them that lift their spirits and feed their souls." She paused. "And their jobs need us. At the level they are both at, there are expectations, very 1950s expectations. They can do the jobs they do and make the money they make because we make it possible. Do you understand?"

"I think so," I said. "Rhonda, is she really going to ask me to marry her?"

"I don't know anything about that," she said, smiling. "Madeline, this needs to be resolved before you say 'yes' to any proposal that may or may not be coming."

I thought about it. "How much time do I have?"

She thought about it before answering. "When are you going to Paris?"

"Early May," I said, starting to cry again.

We sat there while I pulled myself back together. Then I looked at her. "Rhonda, do you have any plans this afternoon?"

"Not particularly." She smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

"Care to do a little clothes shopping?"

"I would love to do some clothes shopping!" she said. "Really?"

* * *

I drove her to her car first, then followed her to her house. She left her car there and got in with me.

At four, we were still at the mall. "Oh no," I said. "Dinner."

"Oh honey," she said. "That's why they invented restaurants."

Still, we hurried things along. I dropped her off and was back home by five.

* * *

I was wearing one of my new dresses and still learning how to use the new iPad when Karen got home at six. I met her at the door and pulled her into a tight hug.

She hugged me just as tightly. "I love you," she whispered. Then she pulled away and looked at me. "I recognize my mother's influence. Did you have a nice afternoon?"

"I did." I paused. "We have reservations at seven."

She laughed. "I figured." She paused. "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay."

"What haven't you been buying?"

"Clothes. The iPad I wanted. And I've been wondering about my laptop. It's not due yet, but soon, maybe next year."

"I was wondering why you hadn't bought the iPad after you said you wanted one. I decided you must have changed your mind. I should have asked."

"It's okay. I bought one this afternoon."

"How was it you ended up at lunch with Mom?"

"Actually." I paused. "I went to see your father."

Her expression froze. "You asked him for a job." I nodded. "But mother talked you out of it."

"She talked me out of finding a job for the money. But honey, I've been trying to talk to you about this. I'm going out of my mind here."

Her face fell. "I want you to be happy," she said. "If that means a job, you should get one."

"So I should tell your father I have your blessing?"

She nodded. "Yes." She looked at the clock. "Honey, I need to work for a few minutes before dinner. Can you leave me in my office until it's time to go?"

"Sure. We can talk more over dinner."

She kissed me quickly then disappeared in her office, closing the door.

I sat back down with my laptop and iPad and continued to load applications on it, including a few intriguing games. I kept an eye on the clock, then when we still had just a few more minutes, I set it all aside and knocked on Karen's door. I didn't wait for a response before answering.

She was sitting in her chair, staring out the window. "Time to go," I said.

"All right," she said. She didn't turn to face me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I walked over and turned her to face me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh my god, honey, what's wrong?"

"You're leaving me," she said.

"I am not!"

"You'll get a high power job and we'll never see each other anymore." She started sobbing and hyperventilating. "I'm not enough to make you happy. I've been trying so hard. Oh god, I'm not enough," she wailed.

"Honey, I turned your father down." Kneeling in front of her, I pulled her into my arms. She sobbed into my shoulder. "Honey, I turned him down. Well, I told your mother to thank him for me. I still have a problem to solve, but your mother told me to think out of the box."

I held her and let her cry. I kept repeating I wasn't going anywhere and that I loved her.

It took a few minutes, but she calmed down, then pulled away and grabbed tissues from a box on her desk and blew her nose.

"Now I'm a wreck," she said.

"I can cancel the reservations and pick up some Chinese," I told her. "Or toss something together."

"No, but do I have time to clean up?"

"I'll call the restaurant."

Planning Paris

I decided to plan Paris almost exactly like I would have for Marsha, except without the advance visit. I didn't have time to do all of it, but everything I had done in the past for Marsha was on my laptop from when I'd work at home in the evenings.

I stepped up how often I went to lunch with Karen. I also set up weekly luncheons with Mom and Rhonda. The two hadn't met, but they got along fabulously. The second week we got together, the last Thursday in March, I excused myself to use the restroom, and when I got back, they looked like they were conspiring together. The conversation clearly changed when I returned.

"What's going on?" I asked suspiciously.

"Not a thing," Mom said. "We were just talking."

We went shopping later. I didn't buy anything, but Mom and Rhonda both did.

Planning the Paris trip was exciting. I made my basic plans then began contacting the places I wanted to stay. I no longer had my copy of the language software I'd used in the past, so I bought a new copy and started working with it every day. I began speaking French around the house. Poor French, but French nevertheless.

As I worked on the details, I realized something. I really enjoyed this. And I wished I were doing it for a full group. That would keep me busy for months.

When I realized that, I stopped dead in my thoughts, backed them up, and ran through them again.

Then I pulled out some paper and began taking notes. I made a list of people to call. At the top of the list were David and Jenny Foster, Karen's boss.

I called the Kilador main line and asked to speak to David. I got routed to his assistant, Peggy. "Peggy, it's Madeline Burnet. Karen Greene's girlfriend."

"The woman who keeps sending all the treats to the office."

"Yes, that's me," I said. "Any chance I can speak to David?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's a personal thing. I'd be just as happy to talk to his wife, Jenny, but I didn't think you'd give me her number."

Peggy laughed. "No, I wouldn't. David is free, let me transfer you."

David answered after a moment and I told him who I was. We exchanged a moment of small talk, then I said, "David, this is going to be very weird, but I want to ask you something, and I don't want Karen to know about it."

"Are you asking me to pick sides in something?"

"I am doing research for something I want to present to her."

"All right," he said. "Ask away."

"I was hoping I could take you and Jenny to lunch. The sooner the better. Without Karen knowing."

"Let me have Jenny call you." I gave him my number and we hung up.

Jenny called about ten minutes later. We chatted for just a moment and she recommended lunch the day after tomorrow. "Is that soon enough?"

"It's perfect."

We agreed that because I didn't want Karen to catch us, David would meet us at a restaurant in Edina. After that we exchanged a few more pleasantries and hung up.

Then I made more phone calls.

* * *

Lunch with David and Jenny was great, and they told me exactly what I wanted to hear.

* * *

The following Saturday, after a romp in bed, I told Karen I had something I wanted to talk to her about. We wandered downstairs and I drew her to the dinette table. Then I collected everything I had prepared.

"Karen, you can say no to this."

"All right," she said.

"I've been preparing our Paris trip, and I decided to do it a lot like I would have done it for Marsha. And I realized something. I love doing his. It was the best part of the job, and I'm very good at it. What was missing was doing it for a full group."

"I don't want anyone else on our Paris trip," she said. "You and me in the City of Love."

I smiled. "That's not where I'm going." I paused. "I had lunch with David and Jenny." She raised an eyebrow. "I talked to them about their experiences with Henderson Travel. And then I asked how they would feel if I were to organize trips like the ones Marsha organized. Would they recommend my trips to people?"

Karen didn't smile, but she didn't frown, either.

"Jenny told me, 'We were wondering if you would take the hint. We thought we were going to have to become more direct'. And then she told me they had the contact information for everyone who went to Australia."

I paused. "I called Marsha."

"I bet that was an interesting conversation."

"Marsha told me she's very unhappy with her daughter, that she's been receiving phone calls from past customers. Caroline is a good travel agent, but she's not up to hosting those types of trips. Marsha asked me if she should pressure Caroline into hiring me to run them."

Karen's face started to fall.

"I told Marsha I wasn't interested in working with Caroline, but that I was thinking of starting my own company. Marsha laughed and told me it was about time. Then she told me she'd send business to me instead of her daughter. She is not happy with Caroline."

Karen's face fell further.

"Don't jump to conclusions yet," I told her. "I want to run two trips a year. I would want you to go on the trips. I would need to do advance trips, which in the past have taken about two weeks for a one-week trip when it's somewhere Marsha or I had been. And I've been a lot of places. I'd be working heavy hours in the last few weeks before a trip, but I'd be able to pick my own hours."

"What about the rest of what a travel agency does?"

"Not interested. I only want to do these trips. I might, and I say might help special customers plan trips, but I don't want a store front and book el cheapo vacations for everyone or any of that."

"Employees?"

"An assistant." I smiled. "Marsha told me she wouldn't hold it against me if I hired a few people out from underneath Caroline. I know who I'd call first."

"Can you make a profit after paying an assistant?"

"If I get clients, yes. These would be somewhat high end vacations. The trips Marsha ran were usually more than two thousand dollars a night per couple, about half of which was profit."

"Mom and Dad wouldn't think twice about paying that for a well-run vacation," Karen said.

"I know. I asked. David and Jenny said the same thing. I couldn't charge that for Hawaii, for instance, because it's hard to make Hawaii that complicated, but a trip through Italy or France could easily cost that."

Karen thought about it. "Eight couples for a week, that's fifty-six thousand dollars profit?"

"For the more expensive trips, yes. But out of that comes a trip for me and the assistant ahead of time to make sure everything will be perfect. And paying the assistant. I wouldn't make much money." I paused. "I might be able to set up travel consultation services. Or else find an assistant that doesn't need a full time job."

I let Karen think about it. She looked at me. "Honey, if you can make the numbers work, I think it's a brilliant idea."

"I would need to bankroll it."

"Investors?"

"One or two, yes."

Karen smiled, got up and walked into the kitchen. Her phone was charging on the counter. She grabbed it and brought it back. She listened for a moment, then said, "Dad?"

Paris

The restaurant was beautiful. Karen was more beautiful. She was wearing a light spring dress and looked radiant. We had just finished a shared dessert and were staring into each other's eyes.

I watched as she reached into her purse and pulled out a small box. She then got down on one knee in front of me, opened the box, and presented the ring to me. It was beautiful, the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen.

"Madeline," she said.

"Yes."

"Madeline, you have to let me ask first."

"Yes."

"Madeline."

"Yes."

I started to cry while I stared at her.

"Madeline, will you-"

"Yes."

"Knock it off." She was grinning. "Madeline, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

She slipped the ring onto my finger then stood up and pulled my lips to a kiss. When she broke it, I asked her, "When?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"What? No. Our parents would kill us."

"Our parents checked into the hotel about two hours ago."

"Really?" She nodded. "A dress?"

"Our mothers have dresses for both of us."

"We'll be in wine country in two days."

"I know. I thought a wedding at a vineyard sounded perfect. A mountain might have brought us closer to Mother Earth, but I thought a vineyard was good."

"A priest? Or something?"

"Do you need a priest?" she asked. "I thought we would offer our vows to each other. We don't need a priest for that, but if you want one, I can try to arrange one."

"No," I said, starting to cry again. "I don't need a priest. Just you. And our parents. And a ring for you."

She held out her hand and opened it. There was a wedding band in it. I took it from her and she held out her hand. I slipped the ring over her finger.

Two days later, the weather was beautiful, but I only had eyes for my new wife.

Epilogue

There were twelve of us at the cafe in Venice, sitting at small tables, drinking coffee and watching the boats float by in the canal. I smiled across the table at Karen, my wife now for a year, an amazing, blissful year.

"I am so proud of you," she told me. "This has been the most amazing trip."

"I'll say," said Linda, one of the clients. She was sitting with Charlie, her husband. They were the oldest couple who had joined us on the trip to Italy. We had started in Rome. Tomorrow we would head to Milan for two days, then fly home. "Madeline, Charlie and I want to know where your next trip will be."

I smiled. "Australia in November. Specifically sailing in the Whitsunday Islands, which is near the Great Barrier Reef."

"Scuba diving?" one of the men asked.

"And snorkling, for those who are interested," I said. "If there is interest, I'll do an add on into the outback."

"We haven't been sailing in years," Linda said. "Will there be things for us to do?"

"Linda, I will personally make sure of it."

About the author:

Julia P. Lynde lives and works in the American mid-west.

Julia is older than most of the characters in her books. She has blue eyes and grey hair. She enjoys hiking in the mountains (difficult to do in the mid-west) and hosting dinner parties.

Julia can be reached via email as julia.p.lynde@gmail.com.

Julia's other works include:

Novels

Rewind:

Emerging from traumatic events of her past, Shane is left dealing with newfound self-revelations until she seeks help from an unexpected quarter.

Veronica is a stunning and powerful businesswoman who knows what she wants and lives for the seduction involved in getting it.

Complicated doesn't begin to describe the results.

Rewind features graphic sex between consenting women and some light BDSM.

Pulled to the Dark: The Siriena Series Volume 1:

Felicia Conner begins having recurring dreams of the woman who gave her a great new job. Night after night, Petra appears in her dreams. Petra begins to teach Felicia the wonders of the dream world she inhabits while Felicia begins to wonder how she can have such lifelike dreams night after night.

Petra welcomes Felicia to the world of Siriena, where the world may just very well be as it seems.

This complete novel of 95,000 words contains swords, magic, intriguing characters, an easy-to-hate villain and graphic sex scenes between Felicia and Petra.

Novellas

Unwilling

Alexandra and Melissa are coworkers who entirely hate each other, each for her own reasons. One Friday night, Melissa desperately needs Alex to save Melissa's job.

Alex gives Melissa an offer: be her servant for a month or join the unemployment line, believing Melissa would rather take her chances than bow to Alexandra. Instead, Melissa accepts.

This 30,000 word novella (about 100 printed pages) features domination, submission, bondage, and just a touch of some hot sex.

Shorts

Bound in Arrogance

"You wouldn't last two hours of my attention," Penny told me, turning it into a wager. Foolishly, I rose to the bait.

Bound in Arrogance features Veronica and Penny several years prior to the events in Rewind. It features light BDSM.

Emily's Gift

Succubus Volume 1

Emily's daughter has taken a bad path, and Emily turned to the fae succubus, Anita, for her own brand of help.

This short story of 9400 words features intriguing characters and some steamy female on succubus sex.

Snow Bound

First in the 5-part Snow Bound Series.

After a near experience with a deer, Allison is pulled from her car by Sarah, troubled twenty-five-year-old photographer. Sarah drives Allison to Allison's secluded cabin on a lake, where the two become snow bound.

Allison finds Sarah deeply attractive. Will Sarah's troubled past interfere with a possible future?

This short of 10,000 words contains graphic sex, light bondage, domination, and a mind game or two.

Holiday Escort

Copyright 2012 by Julia P. Lynde

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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License Notes

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