that mean that you are truly in The Scene?” Garda asked. Jeffrey’s chin came up and he looked at her.
“That depends on what you mean by that statement.”
“Well if you’re going to be coy about it, forget I ever asked,” said Garda, tossing back the rest of her champagne and grabbing another glass off a passing tray.
“What about you? That’s what I want to know!”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Who is this Augie Rose? The name rings a bell.”
“Oh hell,” thought Garda. “I’m not supposed to fraternize with property lessors either!”
“Well, it’s been all too real. I’ll see you at the office,” Garda said, attempting to walk away. He caught her by the arm and pulled her back down into the swing to sit beside him.
“Wait a minute. Let’s finish our conversation.”
“I have to go find my friend.”
“He’ll amuse himself. I just remembered who he is too! He’s the owner of the house you got the contracts signed on this week. Right? The one you let over bill us by ten grand a day?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Garda cried, her heart jumping.
“That property was assessed as a five thousand dollar day rental site by the production manager’s assistant. You let Mr. Rose sign off the contract with the fifteen thousand dollar per day figure. Didn’t you, Garda?”
“Well, that’s what the property looked like being worth to me,” she replied, though faint of heart.
“I’m not surprised, since you seem to be dating him!” Jeffrey snapped. “I have a good mind to report you for this.”
“So report me!” Garda snapped, feeling her face redden and her heart begin to pound.
“If I did you’d be fined, you know. And reprimanded.”
“So report me,” she repeated, though a bit less enthusiastically now. “Fined how much?”
“Obviously, the extra $30,000.”
“Great! Thanks a lot,” she replied, getting up to flee her persecutor. He pulled her back down.
“Not so fast, young lady.”
“Why not?”
“Why don’t you try to persuade me to be nice?”
“And how might I do that?”
“Why don’t you offer to take the reprimand from me personally. It would go a long way to wiping out the debt. In my mind, anyway.”
“What in the world are you suggesting, Jeffrey?”
“Take the reprimand from me.”
“Okay, what would that entail?”
“Allow me to spank you. Right now. Right here!” Jeffrey enclosed both of Garda’s hands in his own large ones. She looked up at him.
“What?” she stammered.
“Let me spank you and I’ll forget about the over billing. You’ll save thirty thousand dollars. Just like that.”
“But why do you want to?” she wondered, not believing her ears. Was it possible the Barking Crewcut had been looking at her? Thinking about her?
“Why do I want to spank you? I only think about it every time I see you totter down the hall in those tight skirts and high heels. You often run. It’s very cute. Only I’d like to see you in even higher heels. Heels so high you’d be perfectly helpless without me to carry you around in them. Are you ready?”
“I can’t take this in,” Garda protested, springing up and away from Jeffrey. “You have to give me a few minutes to - to rethink you!”
“Why? What do you mean by that?” Jeffrey barked, flipping open a black cigarette case and extracting a cigarette. He let her light it for him, holding her shaky wrist while she did, then pulled her down again beside him and after taking a drag handed her the cigarette.
“I haven’t been accustomed to thinking of you in these terms,” she unsteadily admitted.
“Oh? And how have you been accustomed to thinking of me?”
“I’m sorry Jeffrey, but to me you’ve always been just The Barking Crewcut,” Garda admitted, quite deliberately.
“Well, to me you’ve always just been The Arrogant Slut, but meeting you here, somehow I feel it all fits,” said Jeffrey, taking the cigarette out of her hand, putting it out and then swiftly and ably, pulling her over his lap. “You weigh nothing,” Jeffrey said, arranging her on his football player’s thighs. “Just relax, Garda. This will be over before you know it,” he assured her, gently but firmly capturing one of her slender wrists again and pinning it back to her waist.
Garda was bereft of speech and powerless to move, awed by the deftness of Jeffrey’s attack, how solid his lap felt and how securely he held her to it. It was beyond belief that the hateful Jeffrey Jardine, who was always so trying under the office lights, should be suddenly so enchanting in moonlight.
The spanking was as promised: brief and to the point. Or maybe Garda only perceived it that way. For in reality, it was fully sixty swats of Jeffrey’s big, hard hand.
“You should wear satin at all times,” Jeffrey told her, rubbing the sting away after each volley of spanks. “With your curves, it’s irresistible.”
“Jeffrey,” she turned her head, “this is a very different side of you than I’ve seen.”
Jeffrey continued spanking her firmly, alternating smacks on her slim, oval globes, now so glowingly encased in ivory satin for a little while longer. As she received the smacks with little pants of surprise but otherwise complete docility, he wasn’t quite sure whether Garda was in shock from the summary treatment or off in a female submissive dream world. So presently he let her up.
“Since you’re here with someone else, I won’t make a pest of myself for the rest of the night,” he promised, taking her hand and lightly kissing the back of her ivory satin glove. “But next time I have you over my knee, young lady, you won’t get off so easily!”
“But, I still don’t understand,” she murmured, setting her clothes to rights. Jeffrey knelt to straighten the elaborate gold tasseled fringes on the folds of her form fitting, late-Victorian flavored evening gown and when Augie Rose rejoined them, he assumed that Garda had merely put the impertinent lawyer in his place, at her feet.
“Augie, can we go?” Garda asked, linking arms with her date and mincing away on her high heeled, brocade evening shoes, conscious of Jeffrey’s eyes focused on her swaying, corseted form. The entire outfit was assembled in one shopping spree on Melrose. Even as she was spending the twelve hundred dollars on the dress, shoes and corset that afternoon, she had thought, this will be an investment in my wardrobe.
