“Anyway, Angela was too clueless to recognize it at the time, and Rose never pushed it. For the rest, there’s nothing to point at, but she just threw off vibes that suggested she was more, um, curious than her classmates.”
It all sounded in line with what Rose had told me, and helped clarify her interest. Still, understanding the recent past would be critical in avoiding any mistakes. “I left Rose’s card on the desk; take a look before you go any further, okay?”
Angel lithely uncoiled herself and walked across the office, showcasing her perfect ass. I watched a rivulet of my spend start down her inner thigh, only to be absentmindedly intercepted by a finger and transferred to her mouth.
“Rose Cunningham, Interior Designs,” she read. “Well, she’s still using her maiden name, and that was what she got her degree in.” Angel looked briefly at the back of the card. “Collecting phone numbers from attractive women, at your age. Should I be jealous?”
“Absolutely not. As long as I can draw breath, you’ll be mine.” The conviction in my voice was driven equally by desire and a sense of responsibility.
“That sounded almost romantic,” she teased gently while walking back to the couch.
I thought she was going to clean me and put up a hand to stop her, but Angel surprised me again by taking my hand and climbing carefully back onto the couch so she could stretch out against me. “It feels good,” she explained when she saw my quizzical expression. One delicate hand wrapped possessively around my flaccid penis.
“Okay, Angela, what have you been doing?” she murmured to herself.
I waited patiently. Hell, like this, I could wait all night and be content.
She roused a few minutes later and smiled. “I think Rose needs to get laid.”
“That’s the most important thing you learned?” I protested.
“Maybe not,” admitted Angel. “But she broke up with her latest boyfriend when she moved back, has some clothes in the closet that startled Angela, and seems to be deathly afraid of anybody getting near the drawer of her nightstand.”
“What else?” I wondered.
“Rose moved back about six months ago. She was fed up with the corporate rat race and wanted to have more control over what she was doing, even if it meant taking risks. She’s done the bar scene once or twice, but hasn’t found anybody worth pursuing — except maybe Angela.” Angel squeezed my cock. “They do girl things together, and get spa treatments once a month.” She leered at me, her expression wicked. “You should have seen the look on her face the first time she saw Angela naked!”
“What do you mean?” I knew there was nothing wrong with my Angel; I looked at her constantly.
Angel laughed in my face. “You’re too close to the trees to see the forest, Boss! Angela still acts like she’s a 27-year-old virgin, but she’s waxed as clean as a billiard ball — everywhere — and has no tan lines — anywhere! She only wears boots and athletic shoes, but the once Rose made her try on a pair of fuck-me pumps, she could walk in them like a runway model. If she’s really tired or distracted, Angela can put on hose in less than minute, with no runs and straight seams; if she concentrates, she can ruin three pairs in a row. I think it’s driving Rose crazy; she wants to make a move but can’t read Angela and is scared to queer things if she makes a mistake.” Her humor bubbled up again. “I bet with all the ‘Lloyd this’ and ‘Lloyd that’, she thought Angela had a boyfriend — how did she react when she found out you were 48 years older?”
“Almost 48,” I absently corrected her. I hadn’t been looking at Rose’s face, but I remembered her initial hesitation. “Why,” I asked, looking up at her, “didn’t I hear any of this?” I was confused, and a little hurt. “They’re doing all this, she’s sharing things about me, and I don’t even hear Rose’s name until she introduces herself to me tonight? It’s like she’s living some sort of secret life!”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Angel chuckled, but her eyes were sympathetic. She looked inward for a moment, and looked pensive. “I think you shut her out, Boss. It was different, before, but then you stopped talking to her about personal things; stopped asking about how her classes were going or what she’d done on her time off. You didn’t go out for drinks after work anymore. She just figured you wanted to keep things on a strictly professional level.”
Damn; hoist by my own petard. It made perfect sense, once somebody had pointed it out. I already knew exactly what Angela — Angel — did most of the time, so I had no reason to ask; and fearful the fabricated separation between the two personalities might fracture, excellent reasons not to poke at memories that might not stand up to introspection.
If my questions about Rose seemed to be answered, I still felt like I’d taken one step forward and two back.
“Thanks for the insight, and candor,” I told Angel, before kissing her again.
“I’m yours,” she declared simply after we broke.
“Yeah, well, I’m Danny’s,” I groused. “I suppose I’d better get off my keister before he comes looking for me.” I very reluctantly helped Angel to her feet before standing myself up and inspecting my clothing. It would be easier to just send it all to the cleaners and start over; it was why Danny gave me a closet and a clothing allowance.
“The handsomest man I know,” Angel complemented me as she finished adjusting my tie and brushed imaginary wrinkles away from the shoulders of the suit jacket.
“Coming from you, I’ll take that,” I smiled, and pulled her so tight to me she squeaked. I took a last look at the beautiful vision standing naked beside my desk, and left to find out what unenviable task Danny had waiting for me.
January 1962
I wasn’t graced by any dreams that night, but Alexandra appeared at the door to my cave about mid-morning. That was even better, as far as I was concerned.
“How was your weekend?” I inquired, beckoning her in.
“Okay,” she smiled. “The wedding seems to be on track, and we have Jonathan and Danny measured. The waistcoats they settled on aren’t too tacky.”
I thought Jonathan was an idiot. While Alexandra was preoccupied with her coat, I closed my eyes long enough to locate her, and wafted that thought ever so gently in her direction. The rigid erection in my pants was more than enough of a reminder that it was perilously easy to go overboard without meaning to do so.
“Well, what brings you down, besides the heat?”
She settled primly in my guest chair and flashed a brief smile. “There is that.” The humor was switched off just as quickly as it had appeared. “I wanted to hear what you learned from Susan on Friday. She had an appointment this morning, so I haven’t been able to ask her.”
I quickly related the censored version. “If you try something like that again, I think she might hit you,” I concluded.
“But it worked!” Alexandra emphasized, clearly excited. “It’s just fascinating, Lloyd!” She turned her gaze on me, but it was clear she was looking at the interesting research problem and not the man.
Well, I liked her looking at me, and vice versa. I used my lightest featherweight touch to loft that thought at her, too. Gently, Lloyd, I told myself before resuming the conversation. “So, another test?”
“Absolutely,” she responded. “It’s pretty clear you have a genuine ability, but we have no idea how it works. Why did the ketchup work, but the word fail? What limitations does it have?” Alexandra cocked her head. “Have you figured out anything more?”
I decided a little confession wouldn’t be out of line. “I think it’s pretty short range. If I concentrate, I can see sort of a glow where people’s heads are, if they aren’t very far away. It’s hard to describe, but I think it’s all related.”
Her bug-under-the-magnifying-glass stare was back. “Really! Can you see me now?”
I already knew I could, but I went through the motions of closing my eyes and finding her in front of me. Alexandra’s glow started moving toward the doorway; keeping my eyes closed, I told her, “You’re walking away from me now.” She kept moving until she was so faint I wouldn’t have found her if I hadn’t been watching, and then the glow moved sideways and abruptly disappeared. “Lost you,” I reported, and opened my eyes again.
Alexandra looked around the door jam. “Interesting. Was it when I went through the door, or when I stepped down the hall?”
“I think it was the wall. I could still see you, but you disappeared when you moved sideways.”
“I wish Susan was here,” Alexandra sighed, walking back into the room. “This isn’t rigorous enough; we need an observer, at least.”
The lack of an observer wasn’t bothering me, but I was having difficulties resisting the temptation to meddle. “Couldn’t we rough things out, so we’d have a better idea of where to spend time with the careful experiments?”
“How would you propose doing that?” Alexandra asked cautiously, but she didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand.
It was a spur-of-the-moment suggestion, so I didn’t have a plan in mind. “Well…” I thought furiously. “Let’s go out in the hall where there’s more room. You’ll walk slowly toward me until I tell you to stop, and then we can count tiles to get an estimate of the distance.”
“How will you decide when I should stop?” Alexandra wanted to know.
“It’s kind of hard to describe,” I demurred. “We’re just trying to get a distance we can refine later on, okay? I only have a few more minutes before I need to head to class.”
“Okay,” she decided, clearly humoring me.
We walked into the hallway and proceeded to opposite ends before facing each other, rather like modern-day duelists. The difference was that we were unarmed, at least visibly, and only Alexandra began pacing slowly forward. I closed my eyes and began casting my vision outwards, mouthing her name silently on my lips and concentrating on the warmth I felt.
Her slow footsteps echoed down the hallway as I kept concentrating. Eventually a faint sense of her presence appeared in my mind and I redoubled my effort, ignoring a burgeoning headache. As soon as saw a faint ripple, I shouted, “stop!” and opened my eyes.
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