Chapter Nine: Conquest

       

MORE OF SOMETHING MORE,

a story about a salesman trying to establish himself,

 a CEO scheming to buy out his father's influence

 and the woman important to each 

                                                        

                                                          9

      Basking in the glow of conquest, Atom walked arm in arm with Helen down the Manhattan Beach pier. The day was bright, and the air rich with the delighted cries of sun worshippers and volleyball players, which overlay their quiet satisfaction as between them smoldered the passion of the night before. After much persistence she had yielded fully, so much so his intuition gave pause to consider who was the winner and whom the won over before sinking into lovemaking’s sensory overload. On waking they fell onto each other before dozing to wake again to growling stomachs. They dressed quickly: he in shorts, polo shirt and sneakers, while she was compelled to re-wear her sleeveless burgundy dress with sandals and his oversized windbreaker.

     Once hunger was satisfied, Atom played the guide, pointing out the stately pier with globe lights atop concrete stanchions every 12 paces, and the Spanish tile roof of the bulky Aquarium & Café near the end, and the hill that hunched like a wrong-way wave where the main street and overbuilt neighborhoods ran laterally. “The town’s a mix of older homeowners and younger condo-dwellers,” he said. “None of whom I have time to meet.”

     He turned to kiss her and a strand of hair flicked his eyelash, causing him to draw back. She brushed it away then he tried again, eliciting her deep-throated laugh. Believing Helen had greater meaning than just the physical, he wanted to possess her completely, and had no doubt he would since he had overcome her resistance to a date.
     With Lola’s help, he happened on her in break room, at lunch in nearby restaurants and in the underground garage, where always she declined his invitations, until the last one. Their date was Saturday, when at twilight they met at her apartment in Palms and then drove to a restaurant for dinner and, after, dancing.

     Wearing ivory-colored slacks, azure blue shirt and tan sports coat, his gestures had crackled with intensity of wooing. Her auburn hair fell onto the shoulders of the burgundy dress, which matched her high heels. A delicate gold chain accentuated her thin wrists.  Throughout the evening, each echoed the other’s appreciation of venue, food and entertainment, as their wariness gave way to heightened anticipation. He noted that a new gravity weighed on her youthful enthusiasm to pleasing effect.

     He did not know about the break up with her boyfriend, or the investor parties that had made her the center of attention in men’s eyes, exciting Slade’s possessive nature. She would have had difficulty describing the experience since her role seemed more to do with what she was instead of who.

     Rolling waves beneath the pier rocked the pilings, gusts delivered salty spray and the high sun whitewashed their features. Going round the Café, they were for the moment separate and alone, where westward was the open sea, and to the north and south the purple hills stretched out. A tanker crossed their view cruising to the refinery with the orange-striped smokestack. They leaned against the railing.

      “Slade’s lucky he’s got you.”
     “I wouldn’t put it like that.”
     “I’d hate to think he is a barrier, for us.”

     "Hoo, hoo! Ha, ha!” The girlish laughter pierced him and he twisted a painful smile, and then from nowhere a sense-defying fog blanked out the sun, the sea and every sound except her laughter. He snaked an arm around her waist, but she pulled away, and they stood silent and apart until he felt compelled to fill in the white nothingness.
     “You know, I envy Slade’s relationship with his father; things passing from father to son. It’s like someone saving your place in line, giving a foothold in life. Things are different then.”
     “What about yours?”

     “Divorced before I was five. I have some pictures, and don’t miss him, because how could I when I never had it? Only when I see others with theirs do I wonder.”

     “Mine is big on sports and fishing. When I think of him I think of fishing. Sorry.”
     “Sorry for laughing?”

     “Don’t take it personal, but men always make more of something than it is.”

      “Slade?”

     “I’m not talking about him--”

     “I’ll protect you, if you let me.” His resolute face was blurred in the mist.
     “You just proved my point and I’m trying not to laugh. He doesn’t affect what I do. I wouldn’t want to cross him, though. He likes fresh starts, clean sweeps and loyalty, and has a different take on the father thing. The condo’s about sweeping him away.”
     He pulled at her again and she relented. He nuzzled her marble cheek and held her as if clutching a world he would scale and occupy.

                                                                           * * *

      The idea of Helen and Slade festered in Atom's mind. She wouldn't admit him to the condo saying, "Stephen wouldn't like it," the first name familiarity salting the wound. Meanwhile, the CEO's arrangement had repercussions within and without the company.

  
The next chapter will be posted by August 17. 
 The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.