The Trophy Case

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Chapter Four

“Okay,” said Arlette to Katie and their husbands with Rick. “Rick, Craig is a very good employee, but his wife is a bitches’ bitch. She is about the most obnoxious cunt I have ever met. Katie, well, all of us feel the same way. We’d like to be rid of her.”

“The plan is this,” said Katie. “Dr. Rick seduces Alexandra and it is recorded in stereo, with four-part harmony on sixteen tracks with heavy bass. Then we take little Miss Sherilyn and give her a makeover that makes Alexandra look like the trailer trash queen she is at the shareholder’s meeting. Embarrass Craig, make sure he gets the album cut with a bullet.”

“Adultery isn’t what it once was,” said Arlette. “Chances are she keeps the Mercedes, but he doesn’t pay the full Sunnyvale.”

“You have a great deal of confidence in my ability to seduce a woman that, frankly, I don’t even consider attractive,” said Rick. “I hate fake boobs, and if anyone tells you they can’t tell the difference offer to buy them glasses. A woman’s natural breasts fit her, her body, and are a wonderful addition to her natural beauty. Fake boobs are jarring, wrong, a total turn off. “

“You know,” said Jerry, Katie’s husband, “I always felt that way, I just never heard anyone else say it.”

“I’ve set her up twice,” said Arlette. “She’s a randy little darling and she’s asked about you twice. She’s careful, so we haven’t gotten it yet, a crew in your bedroom tomorrow? Craig has to go to Hong Kong tomorrow morning and has to be back for the meeting Saturday.”

“Hush,” said Katie, “she’s coming out.”

Sherilyn came out and Rick gave her a chair. “In order, Katie, Jerry, Roger and Arlette.”

“Are you all teachers?”

“No,” said Roger, “we are,” he pointed at Katie and she said:

“Katie.” Then he pointed at Arlette and she said:


“We are Katar.”

“You own the company?”

“Founded, financed and run by us. We hired your ex, yes Rick has been gossiping. Be nice to the old codger. He seems quite taken with you.”

“I’m quite taken with him.”

“Best way,” said Katie. “I’ve got us a table at Nine Lives.”

“Oh God, you had to do that, didn’t you?” said Arlette. “It isn’t a bad restaurant, but c’mon The Nine Lives in Los Gatos? That’s so cutesy-poo you want to upchuck your Poulet de Provencal.”

Katie chose the restaurant to get Rick close to home. His house was in the redwoods at the extreme southern end of Los Gatos, a two bedroom on an acre.

Katie and Arlette pretty much filled the dinner by filling Sherilyn’s week. Saturday was the after-meeting dinner dance, and she had to be ready by then.

The stockholders meeting was attended, or at least could be attended, by anyone who held a share of stock. The after meeting dinner dance could also be attended, by anyone who held a share of stock, who booked a month in advance by paying fifteen hundred dollars a person. Rick always booked.

She followed him up into the hills. He’d seen hers, now he was showing his.

His house had a great room with a sunken kitchen on one corner and a smaller sunken bar on the other. He took her down to the bar.

“What’s your favorite flavor?” he said.

“I guess I’ll act like a kid and say cherry.”

He wasn’t a drinker, he was a learner and he learned a lot of things, one was liquor and he owned a collection of the best, built over twenty years and most of the bottles missed only a shot. He also made his own olives, onions and other accompaniments. He took a shaker glass, and filled it with ice, filled a martini glass with ice and water. He put two ounces of vodka and half an ounce of real Marciano liquor in it. He took a mason jar of cherries that he put up three years earlier in the Marciano liquor and two tablespoons of simple syrup. He added a teaspoon of the liquid in the jar and speared three cherries. He put the jar back and covered the shaker glass with the metal shaker and shook it vigorously.

He threw out the water and ice in the martini glass put in the speared cherries and strained the drink into it and put it in front of her. “Sip that.”

It obviously agreed with her. “That’s awesome, what is it?”

“A Cherry martini I guess, that’s the first one.”

He took a single liquor for himself and served it up, it was less than half hers. He put a slotted spoon over it and ice water over a sugar cube on the spoon.

“What’s that?”

“Can I trust you?”


“It isn’t legal in California, it’s Absinthe.”

“Do you really believe that I am prettier than Alexandra?”

He looked at her, walked into the kitchen and got a Tupperware container and brought it back. Opened it and closed it. Then he put it on the shelf next to the scotch bottle.

“Let it age a week. Answers are like wine, aging always improves them.”

He undressed her slowly and wouldn’t let her undress him.

When they were both naked in bed he pulled her into him. Kissing her, he put his hands between her legs and slowly opened her up. She grabbed him and he stopped her.

“You can’t please me anymore than you already do. I must learn you to please you. I must learn every alley and street, every boulevard and avenue of your body to please you as you please me. “

He played and was about to pull her on top when she gave a sharp sigh. He moved his finger over the spot and he felt her, then he put his thumb on her clit and moved it when he moved his finger and her orgasm was violent enough to provide him with a beautiful set of scars on his shoulder for the rest of his life.

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