Lex (Unconventional Hearts) (8 page)

Monday 11:45 a.m.

To Lotion Lady;

I’m pleased to hear back from you. I wasn’t
sure I ever would. How’s your Monday going so far?

I’m sitting here at work, stressed, and
unable to decide what route to take with these clients of mine. I’m
a criminal lawyer, by the way. Please don’t hold that against me.
Most of my caseloads involve abuse in one form or another, saving
the world, placing one abusive scumbag behind bars at a time.
That’s my expertise and it’s a rough one. But since I was six, I’ve
always wanted to be a lawyer. An honest one, if that helps any.

What do you do for a living? Or is that too
personal? I know you asked me but I don’t want to pry.

About the dog in my main photo, your
assumption was right on the money. That’s Babs, my lab, who keeps
me warm when I get lonely.

Do you have any pets?

In regards to your fascination with Poe, the
Tell-Tale Heart is a great short story. I’m more of a Raven fan,
myself. And as much as I can appreciate Poe’s work, I’m a Yeats and
Tennyson aficionado, stems all the way back to my Comparative Lit
class when I attended Harvard. Needless to say, my horizons were
broadened after I finished that course.

See, I’m not sure how much I am supposed to
share or not to share. Reading your profile has left me feeling
like I know you so much already. A kismet connection, if you will.
That’s why I couldn’t stop emailing this past week. I promise I’m
no stalker. You intrigue me, is all I’m trying to say.

Until Later - Suit Master

I think I just met
my
dream man, maybe
not a perfect one, because I know little else about him. But a
lawyer who specializes in abuse cases, if that’s not knocking
directly on my front door, I don’t know what is. If only someone
like him had been around when I was a child.

He has a dog, who he loves. I can read
between those lines, plain as day…and…he loves poetry. What kind of
man likes poetry? Seriously, think about it. He’s like a 1965
Château Latour, a rare and exquisite find.

Do I tell him who I am in regards to my
company? I know he’s local, I’m not positive as to what city. But
it can’t be far from here. The choices of divulging too much or too
little are the deciding factor.

In my dating profile, I express a lot of my
likes and dislikes, and my firm political views. I know politics
may not matter so some people but they matter a lot to me. It’s not
Republican versus Democrat. It’s the issues at hand. I couldn’t
tolerate a man who didn’t support gay marriage, or a man who wanted
to abolish government funded programs to help those in need. Those,
in my opinion, are the things that matter. Not which oil company
gets a tax cut and which one doesn’t. I care about the people, not
the big wigs. I donate lots of money to local charities, and during
the holidays, I volunteer at the local soup kitchen. I may not be
the most thoughtful and giving person, but I try to help out and
participate in our community to give back to those in need. What
I’m most proud of is the money I’ve donated to help fund a
rehabilitation program at the local women’s and children’s shelter.
It’s a cause very close to my heart, and I’m sure if Suit Master is
local, he’s worked with some of those women himself.

Just as I am about to type my letter to the
Suit Master, Daniel pops his head in my office with a wink.

“Can I help you, Daniel?” I blow him a kiss
and grin.

“Someone’s in a good mood. It wouldn’t have
anything to do with the new beau on your online dating account, now
would it?”

Blushing and combing my hair back away from
my face, I faintly nod and bite my lip.

“Ooooooo, you
do
like him. Is he hot?”
he asks, walking the short distance between my office door and the
guest chair, dropping into the leather with a crunch.

“I don’t know what he looks like. I was just
going to email him back. I’m not sure what to say. He’s a lawyer,
domestic cases as far as I can tell and he has a black lab named
Babs. He’s also a Poe, Tennyson, and Yates fan. That’s all I’ve
gotten thus far. And his name is the Suit Master.” I explain,
nervously fidgeting in my chair.

“Sounds good so far. He
could
be a
complete dog, though. Maybe Babs his lab is cuter than him. Ask him
what law firm he works for and where he lives.”

I guess Daniel likes to live vicariously, not
that I mind; I could use all the help I can get.

“Okay, I’ll type and you read it over once
I’m done. Sound good?”

Clapping his hands twice in excitement he
smiles and gets up from the chair. “Yes, boss, if you insist.” He
chuckles, exiting a little too enthusiastically.

Maybe I should have had him do this for me
instead. I’ve accomplished precisely one email and his are all so
eloquently put together with honesty, laced with subtle
compliments. It’s rather charming.

From: Lotionlady316

To: Suitmaster6979

Dear, Suit Master

I, myself, am sitting behind my desk at work
too. I work at a factory and have my own office. Your emails are so
well versed I feel like such a dimwit sitting here trying to figure
out the best possible way to converse.

Don’t worry; I won’t hold your career
against you, although the past few days I’ve had a few painful
run-ins with a local lawyer. I must say, you working abuse cases is
the only thing saving your hide. I refused to stereotype lawyers as
a whole, but this Gage Masterson from Masterson and Associates is a
world-class grade-A jerk. I hope he’s not your boss, because if he
is, I feel sorry for you.

I don’t have any pets. I work long hours and
I wouldn’t have the time to spend with them, even though I am an
animal lover, dogs mostly.

Unable to decide how much to ask or not,
I’ll leave you with these questions. Where do you live and work?
Not in the exact sense, just a city would be fine. I live and work
in Heartfair and rarely escape the city limits.

All in good time - Lotion Lady

P.S. “Something made greater by ourselves
and in turn that makes us greater.”

A quote from my sixth favorite literary
genius.

That’ll have to do. Pressing my intercom
button my desk phone I buzz Daniel.

“Yes, boss.” He greets evenly through the
speaker.

“It’s done, come read it.”

Three seconds later Daniel is swiftly
strolling into my office, leaving my door wide open and finding his
way behind my desk, leaning over me, smelling of citrus and
mint.

“Hum….I like it. It’s boring. But it’s good.”
He states boorishly, skimming my email.

“What do you mean? It’s
boring
?” I
emphasize, pushing my chair back to stand and head to the wet bar
for a drink. Kneeling in my skirt, I pull the nearly full bottle of
Patrón from inside the dark brown cabinet and pour two fingers deep
of it in my lowball glass. I do the same for Daniel, who I know
hates Patrón but will drink it, only because I’m offering. Sliding
the alcohol across the desk to him, he keeps reading aloud my email
four or more times, lingering on the parts he finds humdrum. While
he sips on the tequila with a scrunched face, smacking his lips
loudly with distaste.

“Just send it like this. I’d be asking for a
picture, if he likes dick, and how good of a kisser he is.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab the back of Daniel’s
vest and jerk him away from my side of the desk. Chuckling, glass
in hand, he takes a seat on a guest chair and crosses his legs.

“That is you, Daniel, I’m surly not saying
any of that. You’re a perv. Woman don’t talk to men that way.”
Ignoring his ridiculously stupid comments, I take a seat, click the
send button and prop my bare feet up on my desk, resting back in my
chair, sipping leisurely on my Patrón. The potent smoothness
sensuously warming my belly and relaxing me. God knows I need
it.

“Let’s see if he finds you intriguing or
boring with that email. Two down, and maybe by number ten you’ll
finally ask what I told you to.” Daniel chides, pressing the rim of
his glass firmly against his bottom lip and taking a slow sip.
Leaving another disfigured expression in its wake.

He really doesn’t like my favorite alcohol.
Or one of my favorites that is. I love wine as well. As for fruity
concoctions or beer, they’re either too sweet or too tart. I want
warmth and richness captivating my taste buds. That’s why I prefer
a dryer, more potent wine. The boldness is what entices me the
most. I guess I like my drinks as I do most things in life, warm
yet bold. Most of my wardrobe consists of warm and bold colors.
Mainly blacks, blues, reds, greens and the occasional white or
pink. I find tan to be the most blah color on the planet. However,
a deep brown is a soul clincher for me; I can never get enough of
it, not in clothing but in furniture and décor. Take my office for
example, it’s elegant and my dark executive desk rests as the focal
point of a room with a masculine lavender walls, tan low pile
carpet; used mostly for warmth not esthetics, my feet don’t do so
well on hardwood and I don’t wear heels all day when I’m seated.
However, I do wear them everywhere any other time. Even on the
weekends, I don’t leave the house without a pair of size twelve
heels adoring my neatly manicured toes. The rest of my office is
basically a showpiece. A bronze Rodin
The Thinker
statuette
sits atop my desk for inspiration. A twenty-four inch cream statue
of Michelangelo’s
David
rests on my wet bar. My walls are
hung with various art nouveau reproductions of Gustav Klimt’s
masterpieces including
The Kiss
,
Three Ages of Women
,
Baroness Elizabeth,
and
The Family
. All of them are
framed to precise perfection, giving my office that artsy, yet
homey ambiance. I would never go so unique in my art selection at
home, but in my office, I had no choice but to think outside of the
box. And for ages, I have appreciated the fine arts, Gustav Klimt
being one of those artists.

Finishing his Patrón, and I mine, he stands
and comes over to my side of the desk to take my empty glass, and
exits, shutting the door behind him. I guess it’s time to get to
work and wash this morning away.

Chapter Seven

Tuesday

“Good morning, boss.” Daniel with a sly smile
greets as I walk past him into my office. Not much going on today
at work but the norm, and last night I went home, took an
extra-long dip in my whirlpool bathtub as I listened to Patsy’s
greatest hits, sipped Merlot, and masturbated. I haven’t actually
gotten off on my own in what feels like ages, but as I soaked in my
tub, slowly washing my pale skin up and down with my cream loofa,
thinking about the Suit Master and his enticing words. By the time
I got through three Patsy songs, I was so turned on I didn’t have a
choice but to masturbate.

“Morning.” I call, over my shoulder, going
around the side of my desk and throwing my purse down before
dropping into my executive chair. I didn’t check my email last
night, even though I wanted to. I didn’t want to seem too eager or
desperate.

“Need serviced?” Daniel asks, coming into my
office and shutting the door behind him, his brown slacks already
showing off his substantial manhood.

“Not this morning, Daniel, I’m sorry I’ve got
a lot of work to do.” I lie, to be honest I don’t feel right
allowing him to service me right before I plan on exchanging
another email with this new man. It seems wrong.

“Oh.” Slumping his shoulders with a frown, he
turns and opens the door to leave.

“You know I love you, Daniel, I’m sorry.” I
apologize, because I know how much he loves getting me off. I’m not
sure why, but it’s something he’s grown to love and obviously need,
over this past year.

“Thanks.” He mopes, shutting me into my
office alone.

Waking my computer, my stomach is doing
nervous summersaults. I can’t believe I’m this excited to be
reading an email from a man I don’t even know. Other than he’s a
lawyer, has a dog, and a few other things.

Opening my dating website, my manicured
fingers can’t click fast enough. I’m so excited and nervous and
finicky. I can’t sit still.

Oh my God, he emailed me!! Twice!!

From: SuitMaster6979

To: Lotionlady319

Monday 8:45 p.m.

To my darling Lotion Lady,

I’m sorry your impression of lawyers has
been tainted this week. Yes, I do know Gage Masterson; his office
is a big name in these parts. No, he’s not my boss, so you don’t
have to feel sorry for me. My law office is in Cartersville as is
my primary residence.

From reading your profile, other than your
love for reading and apparently fashion because your profile
picture shows you wearing a navy Dolce & Gabbana lace dress. My
sister is a fashion queen and has taken her unwilling younger
brother under her fashion-obsessed wing, since I was five. I never
stood a chance. My older brother lucked out and will forever be the
mismatched bachelor, which my fun vivacious sister uncouthly teases
at every family gathering.

What I leading into asking is…do you have
any other loves or hobbies? Other than your impeccable fashion
sense and astounding literary passion?

The warmest hugs - The Suit Master

P.S. Pardon my frankness, but quoting
brilliant women such as Maya Angelou is not only the quickest way
to my heart but into my pants. As if, your intelligence and beauty
hadn’t already sealed the deal.

P.S.S. “There is no exquisite beauty without
some strangeness in proportion.”

I’m swooning! It’s happened! I am officially
hooked. He is by far the most interesting man I’ve ever spoken
with. Or emailed, is more accurate. I haven’t exactly spoken with
him.