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Subject: {ASSM} The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - Chapter 3 (MF, FF, Slow, Romantic Mystery)
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Author's Note: I'm told that this chapter never made it out so here's a
resend.

Also, a couple of award nominations sites are up and I urge everyone to
go nominate the stories and authors they like. If that happens to
include me, I would be thrilled. <g>

My links, if you need them, are:

The Lady in Blue: http://storiesonline.net/story/46048
Finding Elvis: http://storiesonline.net/story/47292
Playing Doctor: http://storiesonline.net/story/48677

With any luck, The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea willbe done before the
end of the year. And perhaps more stories.


The 2006 Golden Clitorides are open for nominations until January 17,
2007.

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Clitorides/www/nominations2006.html

Check the eligibility rules and make sure your favorites are elegible.
Nominate everyone you like for whatever categories you think they fit
in and let the voters sort them out.


And, the nominating site for the Silver Clitorides is back up and
accepting nominations until October 7, 2006. I, of course, urge those
that like my work to nominate Playing Doctor and will shamelessly use
it as an example. Please go to the following site to nominate any story
you like that was finished in July, August or September of 2006.

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Clitorides/www/SCA_Current.htm#nom


or if the form fails, vote via email to: silver-clt@hotmail.com

with a subject of: Silver Clitorides Awards Nomination for July, August
or September 2006.

Please include the following information for your vote:

Wine Maker
Playing Doctor
http://storiesonline.net/story/48677
July, 2006

Thanks all,

Wine



Hawk and Gretchen are finally going to take the cruise they've been
waiting almost a year to take. Join them as they rejoin Ted and Lisa,
as well as make new friends to form a spider's web of passionate heat.
And, of course, Death wants to join the party.

This has a real plot and three dimensional characters. It's more than
just a wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions


The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

(c) 2006 by Wine Maker. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Three: The Circle is Complete

Sandy

The arrival of the new couple turned the lunch into a celebration. It
quickly became apparent that they had played some part in tracking down
the man that shot Ted last year. Ted had never had the chance to meet
them or thank them, and with charm and a simple sincerity, he quickly
introduced himself and convinced them to accept a case of his 2000
Private Reserve as a measure of his gratitude. The Bellers were
pre-Gretchen, but that didn't stop her from giving them both a hug and
a kiss. I smiled wryly when that left both the Bellers a bit
breathless. Gretchen had that effect on people.

I sipped my drink and watched them all, glad for a chance to reflect.
Individually and collectively, they seemed like good people, leaving
aside the trouble that seemed to be following them. I'd been watching
them before the Bellers arrived, and I'd already picked up quite a bit
of information, both from body language and comments overheard from
Hawk, Ted and Keven. As a doctor, I'd learned to keep my ears open and
follow multiple conversations while concentrating on something else.
That multitasking ability was now paying off.

Gretchen hadn't said anything about it, but the glances she had been
sending Hawk's way had made it clear even before I was told that they
were a couple and that she loved Hawk. In fact, she was obviously
deeply in love. The conversation and constant casual touches Gretchen
and Lisa shared also made me wonder if the two couples were sexually
intimate or considering becoming so. You simply couldn't fake that
level of subconscious intimacy.

Trish and I sat quietly for a bit as the new couple was hugged, kissed
and welcomed in, so I decided to pump the girl for information. I
smiled at her and gestured at the chaos with my drink. "So, Trish, you
just met Hawk and Gretchen?"

Trish smiled and nodded. "Yeah, just an hour ago." She glanced at
Gretchen and I saw something in her eyes that was equal parts
confusion, desire and apprehension.

"Gretchen has that effect, doesn't she," I asked quietly.

Her eyes darted to mine, her expression that of a child caught being
naughty. "What? What effect?"

It was time to be delicate. It was none of my business, and while I
didn't want to offend her, some part of me understood what she was
feeling and wanted to reassure her that her reactions were normal.
"It's okay, Trish," I said gently, "She has beauty, money, poise and
presence. She makes people desire her just by being herself."

"Oh," Trisha laughed with a blush. "Maybe I do feel that way about her,
a little, but I wasn't thinking about that. I'm working up the courage
to ask her to teach me to be an escort."

I'd heard Gretchen give the basic spiel about what she did for a
living, although she had used the past tense as if that part of her
life was now over, so Trish's comment wasn't a complete surprise. I
honestly did not understand why someone would ever want to do that,
though. "Why?" I made sure there was no criticism in my voice.

Trish still looked a little uncomfortable. "A lot of reasons." She
looked down into her drink and slumped in her seat. "I want to be like
her. She's so confident."

"You don't have to rent yourself out to learn confidence," I said
reasonably, my tone still neutral.

"I know, but I could use the money, too," Trish said softly. "My mom
tries the best she can but..."

I nodded as she trailed off. "I understand. You don't have to justify
yourself to me. I'm simply just trying to help you clarify what you
want and maybe help you understand why you want it. What if the job
includes more than being arm-candy? You're a very beautiful young
woman, at some point, someone will almost certainly ask you to take
them to bed and they will offer you money. Maybe even a lot of money.
What will you do then?"

"I don't know," Trish said miserably. "That's why I need her to help me
figure out what to do."

Her emphasis in that last sentence made me wonder. I leaned forward and
asked even more quietly, "Trish, have you ever had sex before?"

Trish swallowed and looked both terrified and mortified. Then she shook
her head. "No," she whispered. "The guys that asked me out never raised
their eyes higher than my chest, and the nice guys always seemed afraid
to ask me out. So I've just been waiting..."

My heart reached out to her and I felt a genuine compassion for this
child in a Barbie doll body. Physically, she was everything the
flat-chested teenage Sandy had wanted to be; she was tall, beautiful
and busty. It was only now that I finally understood that all of those
physical gifts would have been as much a curse as a blessing. I didn't
know Trish, but in this moment, I decided that I would do what I could
to help her. Gretchen might be better suited to helping her with many
things, but as a doctor, I knew that there were things I could do to
help as well. When the time was right, I would talk to her about a
breast reduction, although perhaps I would want to talk with Gretchen
first. I nodded to myself, my decision made.

I took her hands in mine. "Then I think you do need to talk to Gretchen
and you need to be honest with her. If you really want her to help you,
she needs to know that you're inexperienced so that she can guide you.
Not that I have a lot of experience, but you can always come and ask me
anything, too. It's okay and I would be happy to help you, too, if I
can."

Trish looked at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Thank you," she
said simply. She took a deep breath and dabbed at the corners of her
eyes. I looked away so as not to embarrass her further as she composed
herself.

The reunion was drawing to a close and I knew we only had a few minutes
more before they sat back down with us. I'd intended just to sit
quietly with Trish, but she had one more question. "Sandy, do you,
like, think it would only be with guys?" she asked quietly.

I looked at those earnest young eyes and felt another stab of
compassion. I shrugged. "I don't know, Trish. You'd have to ask
Gretchen, but my guess is that you wouldn't have to do anything you
didn't want to do."

"I've never really thought about, you know, women before, but part of
me wonders what she..." Trish trailed off into silence and bowed her
head with a flush.

"If you want to know, then talk with her," I said quietly. "You don't
need to feel embarrassed, Trish. I find her attractive, too."

Her eyes flashed up to mine, widening in shock. "Have you..."

I smiled and nodded. "Not with Gretchen and it's been a long time, but
you can ask me about that later if you like."

"Thank you!" she said again, so pathetically grateful I felt myself
blushing.

Any chance for further private conversation ended when everyone sat
back down. The waiter pulled another table over to give us all room. It
was immediately apparent that this was a jolly crowd. The looming
trouble with Price had been pushed aside for now and we were having our
own little party.

Earl joined Hawk and the guys. Was a lesbian one of the guys? Gretchen
wasn't a guy by any stretch of the imagination, but Hawk was kind of
masculine in her mannerisms, although not as much as she believed, in
my opinion. Her being pregnant muddied the waters, more than a little,
but I stood by that impression.

Jo joined us and we five settled in around the girls table.

"I'm Sandy Craig." I introduced myself. I took her small, but not
delicate, hand into mine for a moment.

"Jo Beller," she answered in a voice that sounded almost like Michelle
Malkin, the conservative commentator. In fact, there was some physical
similarly, too. She was a very pretty woman.

Trish introduced herself and I heard her last name for the first time.
Walton.

Jo got right to fitting in with a determined grin. "I'm behind the
power curve here, girls," she said. "You all know each other, so fill
me in."

We all laughed and filled her in on who we were and what we did for a
living. She reciprocated and her occupation was certainly not what I
expected. She had to explain what exactly a tree farmer actually did. I
shouldn't have been surprised that people raised trees to sell, but it
had never really occurred to me to wonder where my Christmas tree came
from every year. Gretchen was up front about her past as an escort, and
Jo nodded, seemingly unsurprised.

"I read an article in the paper about you, after all the trouble with
your step-mother," she confirmed. "I suppose I never really understood
why you chose that profession. I understood that your family was
comfortable." I looked at Jo with a touch of surprise. Working with my
clients had taught me that 'comfortable' was the word the rich used to
mean 'loaded.' I wondered how lucrative tree farming was.

Gretchen laughed. "I suppose you could say that, but while I have some
money now, I made it myself as an escort. My father and I only recently
reconciled, and the trust fund he gave us was a surprise to both Hawk
and me. Besides, it wasn't ever really about the money. It was about
rebellion and doing what I wanted to in spite of what my father and his
wife wanted." There was a hint of bitterness as she mentioned her
step-mother.

"What does being an escort really mean," Jo asked curiously. "Isn't sex
for money illegal?"

"Most places," Gretchen agreed, "but, with the right license, it's not
illegal in Nevada. However, being an escort isn't about the sex. Sex is
not a given on most engagements and even if the client is interested,
it only happens if I feel like it. It's really much more about the
social aspects of interpersonal relations." I saw Trish hanging on
every word Gretchen said, her eyes so intense that I had to smile.

"If you don't mind my asking, is it just men," Jo asked casually,
leaning back, "or are you equal opportunity?" Even with the polite
phrasing, Jo was much more direct than I would have been. I was
definitely interested in the answer, however.

Gretchen laughed. "It's only been with men to this point, but I've
recently had my horizons expanded. Why," she teased, "are you and Earl
looking for a night on the town?"

Gretchen might have thought she was joking but I saw a flash of
curiosity and desire in Jo's eyes. To the world, Jo just laughed. "I
doubt Earl would say no, but this isn't Vegas, and I think I like you
too much already to feel comfortable about trading money for your
time."

Gretchen nodded. "You helped save the life of the father of my
children, so I'd be happy to talk about something without money
changing hands."

The entire conversation was a bit unreal to me and a quick look told me
that Trish was a bit shell-shocked as well. Gretchen and Jo, however
seemed perfectly comfortable talking in front of others about trading
money, or 'something,' for sex.

Lisa laughed, seemingly at ease, and swatted Gretchen's arm. "He's my
husband!" Her easy familiarity with Gretchen confirmed my earlier
hunch. Ted may have been Lisa's wife, but it appeared Lisa was willing
to share.

"I'm a professional," Gretchen assured her with a grin. "Don't try this
at home."

Jo looked at Gretchen for a moment and then shrugged. "It's a bit
sudden. I'll have to think about it and talk with Earl. In any case,
you don't need to offer to spend time with us because of what we did.
We did what we did because it was the right thing to do."

"That was a bit forward, wasn't it?" Gretchen laughed. "I'm getting out
of practice after a year. I apologize if I've offended you. You don't
need to feel obligated in any way, but the offer is still on the table.
I would gladly share an evening of dining, dancing, and perhaps more,
to show you my gratitude."

"I like people who speak their minds, so I'm not offended," Jo said,
unable to keep a little of her interest from bleeding through. "I'm
actually quite flattered, but I need to think about it and talk to my
husband."

Seizing the lull in conversation, Trish bounced to her feet. That
caused her chest to bounce in ways that attracted not only all of the
ladies attention but the men, too. She really needed to consider a
reduction to avoid future back problems. I made a mental note to talk
to Gretchen and mention it to her. "Gretchen, can I talk to you for a
little while?"

Gretchen stood up and grabbed her purse. "Sure. Let's leave the ladies
to talk, and we'll wander the ship."

Trish nodded and looked at me. "Can Sandy come, too?" she asked
imploringly.

"Of course," Gretchen said with some surprise, "if she wants to."

I grabbed my purse and stood up. "Sure. Keven can talk sports without
me."

We said goodbye to Lisa and Jo, and then Gretchen gave Hawk a hug and a
brief explanation while I did the same for Keven. As the three of us
walked out of the dining room, Gretchen gave me a curious look. "How
did you know they were talking about sports?" They'd been arguing about
basketball players and quoting statistics to champion their favorite.
Men.

"It's one of the skills I picked up as a doctor," I said with a grin.
"My hearing is pretty good, and I keep half an ear tuned in on what
other people around me are talking about. Get your hands in a patient
and you want to - have to - know everything that's happening around
you, even when you're focused on the task at hand. It makes Keven think
I have eyes in the back of my head."

"I know some teachers like that!" Trish said enthusiastically. "They
know what's going on behind them and everything!"

I walked to the elevators, consulted the options and pushed the button
for deck five. "We can walk the promenade while we talk. Just keep your
voices down if you want to keep something secret," I said with a grin.

"Secret?" Gretchen asked with a grin of her own as we piled into the
elevator. "What is it you wanted to discuss, Trish?" We were alone in
the elevator so I figured this would be the best time to get the
details out in the open.

"Let me," I said, cutting Trish off. "If I'm wrong you can correct me,
but this way you won't feel so embarrassed, and we can say it in
privacy." I looked at Gretchen. "Trish wants to become your
apprentice." I almost added 'Do you think there's a TV show in the
idea?' but one look at Trish and I knew she would think I was making
fun of her.

Gretchen laughed and pulled Trish into a hug. "Of course I'll help you,
Trish."

Trish sagged with relief. "Thank you." She let go of Gretchen and gave
me a hug that raised the temperature in the elevator for me, much to my
surprise. "And thank you for helping me to tell her. I almost lost my
nerve."

By the time the elevator opened, the hugs were over and we walked out
and into the most amazingly fancy looking mall. What made it
astonishing was that it was on a ship.

There were dozens of little boutique shops with a wide marble floor
stretching the length of the mall in front of them. Above us, in an
open-air design were the four decks making up the Promenade. The upper
three stories had rooms that looked down over us and a suspended bridge
of brass and steel spanned the middle of the public area on the deck
above us. The mall before us looked to stretch a good part of the deck,
too. The mixture of ultra-modern and rich accents of dark wood was
awesome.

I set out at a slow pace down the right side. The throng of people was
about half what you'd see at a regular mall, but the ship wasn't due to
sail for another hour. Tonight and tomorrow would be a better time to
gauge the crowd, I was sure.

I heard Gretchen laughing at something and my thoughts drifted back to
the reason why we were here. I couldn't believe that I was helping a
young woman to become a woman of the night. It all seemed logical
enough now that it was happening, but I was going to have to trace the
events back to see why it didn't bother me as much as I thought it
should.

"Okay," Gretchen said, slipping around my right side and letting Trish
take my left, "let's make sure we're on the same page before we get
into details. Trish, do you want to talk about just accompanying guys,
or are you thinking about the whole enchilada?"

"I can say 'no' if I don't like it, right?" Trish asked nervously.

Gretchen nodded. "Of course you can and that goes for being arm-candy,
too. If you decide you want to back out, you say 'no' and I'll handle
any repercussions. That includes with your current client," she said
with a glint in her eye.

"Current client?" I asked. "I thought this was a new idea."

They filled me in on Skip Niccio and I disliked him immediately. "You
should back out on him, Trish. The man sounds like slime."

"But I can't," she almost wailed. "He paid for this cruise, and I don't
have anywhere near enough money to pay him back!"

Gretchen stopped, took Trish's hands in her own and looked her right in
the eyes, calming Trish down almost at once. "I said I'd handle him and
I will. All you have to do is say the word and I'll take care of him.
I'll refund him his money and a fifty percent late cancellation
penalty."

"But..." Trish started before Gretchen put her finger to the girl's
lips.

"Shhh," Gretchen said. "If you and I come to an agreement, I'll be
fronting you enough money to get everything you need anyway. By the
time you pay me back, the cost of this cruise will be chump change, and
you won't even feel it. With your looks and my connections, I guarantee
it."

"By now he's probably searching the ship for me," Trish sighed. "Yeah,
okay, I really don't want to work for him. He's a real horse's butt.
I'm sure sleeping in the room next to him will be fun after this," she
said morosely.

"I'll take care of that," Gretchen said firmly. "You won't have to
worry about sleeping in the next room to that creep. Focus on
yourself."

Trish nodded. "Okay. Well, if I, like, become your apprentice, what
does that mean?"

"I'd rather think of myself as your mentor," Gretchen said warmly.
"'Apprentice' makes you sound like you're my slave or something. Let's
go back to the first question. Do you want to consider the full or the
limited package?"

Trish looked scared and a bit torn about what she wanted, so I pulled
the two of them into Ben and Jerry's for some ice cream and we gave
Trish time to think while we selected some creamy goodness. The mint
chocolate chip made me almost ooze to the floor in delight.

Trish tasted hers and then got back to business. "I want to learn
everything," she declared. "And if it's legal, then I want to know all
of it. Do all of it." She looked both frightened and elated.

Gretchen nodded and ate her ice cream in small bites. "Then I'll help
you with all of it. I know you don't really have any experience with
escorting men, but how much experience have you had with simple
dating?"

Trish shook her head and blushed. "None. I haven't really dated."

That rocked Gretchen and her eyes widened. "But you're such a pretty
girl! What about..." she let it hang.

Trish blushed and shook her head, looking down.

Gretchen took Trish's hands in her own and spoke softly. "That's
nothing to be ashamed of. I can talk to you about it and help you
understand what's involved. If you like, I can even help you get some
'hands on' experience," she said with a small grin.

Trish looked up and smiled shyly. "Is that all part of my training?"

Gretchen nodded. "It is if you want it to be. I can be there with you
every step of the way."

Trish nodded. "Okay."

"The rest of it is pretty straight forward," Gretchen said, leaning
back in her seat. "I'll make you the same offer my mentor made me. I'll
provide room and board, and I'll front you the money to get all the
tools of the trade and set you up. You agree to pay me back in no more
than two years. There's no interest, so you just have to pay it back as
you can."

Trish nodded. "But what do you get for helping me?"

Gretchen laughed. "That's the next part. I'll train you and mentor you
for the next two years. That means I'll also help arrange for you to
find clients that are suitable and I'll work on all the mundane details
for you. In exchange for all that, I'll get a twenty percent commission
for those two years. If either of us decides to break off our
arrangement, the front money comes due, but that's all. You can always
walk away if you decide that's what's best, and you keep everything
you've earned."

Trish ate the rest of her ice cream with her eyes downcast and her face
intent on thinking. I raised an eyebrow at Gretchen, but she shook her
head and smiled reassuringly at me.

We let Trish consider and eat in silence for a few minutes. When she
finished the ice cream, she took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. I may
never have realized it before but this is what I want. So yes, I agree
to everything you've laid out."

Gretchen smiled at her and took Trish's hands back into her own. "We'll
get a contract written up when the cruise is done, but we'll start now.
The first thing we do is shop and then we get you moved out of that
disaster with Niccio."

We made our way back out and I smirked at Gretchen. "Does that make you
Obi-Wan Werner and Trish your padawan apprentice?"

"Don't make me show you The Force," she mock threatened me. "I brought
my paddle along on this cruise."

"Ooooo," I smiled. "Keven would like the idea of that. I may have to
borrow it."

"We'll talk," she said with a smirk of her own. Why did that simple
phrase make my spine tingle?

Gretchen led the way to the far end of the Promenade and into the
fashion boutique. I was surprised to see such a good selection of
dresses and other fashion items. This ship was full of surprises.

A young woman named Angie came over to take care of us, and shortly
Gretchen had her calling for backup as she put the shop's staff through
their paces. She was selecting and rejecting dresses, shoes, handbags
and everything under and in between. She kept the stunned Trish busy
running in and out of the changing room. Every time she came out,
Gretchen gave her a good look, made comments to Angie and either
rejected the dress or let the seamstress pin it and collect it for
adjustment this evening. A seamstress on a ship! I couldn't believe it.

As I saw Trish in dress after dress, I decided that Trish's figure was
even more devastating than I'd suspected. She had all the curves I'd
always wished I had and some I hadn't even known to wish for when I was
younger. Her innocence, mixed with the raw sex appeal of some of the
dresses, combined to make an intoxicating package that few men would be
able to resist. In particular, several low-cut affairs were deep enough
to let me know what it felt like to stand below a dam that was
threatening to give way to the overpowering pressure of a flood. Whew!

One enticing combination was a black dress with a deep plunge neckline
in lacy fabric that flared and came to about mid thigh. On Trish, with
her coloring, it looked wonderful.

"You'll need a choker or necklace with that one," commented another
customer, a slender Nordic blonde. "It'll give the men an excuse to
look at your cleavage without appearing gauche about it." She grinned.
"Just be ready to accept a lot of compliments about whatever you have
on around your neck!"

Gretchen laughed and agreed with the woman.

Another superb dress was a white number with similar lines but the
fabric was almost feathery in cut and texture.


Gretchen also made a number of selections from various catalogs of
items that they had aboard, but not in the shop. The one glance I took
at the book let me know, at the very least, that Gretchen was talking
of intimate apparel. There would have to be miracle bras to support
Trish's breasts and not show in those dresses. The prices also made me
wonder just how much money an escort could make. If Trish could afford
to repay Gretchen in just two years, and on just 80% of her income,
escorts obviously made enough money to rival many reconstructive docs!

I shook my head and forced myself to look around the shop. I managed to
find a few dresses that made me drool, so I picked them up, tried them
on, and at Gretchen's nod of approval, decided to take them all. What
was the use of making a lot of money if I couldn't spend some of it on
a dress that made Keven's teeth fall out? My middle class upbringing
was screaming about the cost, but I well knew that my savings account
would never notice the difference. For the first time, I had to admit
to myself that Sandy wasn't really middle class any more. I wasn't
"comfortable" the way my clients defined it, but I was definitely not a
member of the middle class, either.

In an hour, we were done, with that store, at least. The staff was
running all over trying to get things sorted out after we left. I
didn't think I'd ever seen anyone leave such chaos in her wake. Trish
was in shock and I didn't blame her a bit. Gretchen was a force of
nature.

Gretchen told them to deliver the purchases to the Presidential Suite.
Angie nodded and tasked someone else with it while she trailed behind
Gretchen like the little dog following the big dog in the cartoon. As
Gretchen headed into the promenade, Angie followed right along behind
her. Obviously, she thought that if someone in the Presidential Suite
was on a shopping spree, that she should be there to smooth the way.
When I asked, Angie explained that all the store employees worked for
Imperial Lines, on salary, so there wouldn't be some weird conflict
between her and other employees fighting for a commission.

The next stop was the jewelry store back by the ice cream shop. "It's
right next door to where we started. Why didn't we go here first?" I
asked.

"Because I didn't know what kind of clothes I would be accentuating,"
Gretchen said reasonably. "You have to start with the foundation and
build from there."

The only other customer was a well-built gentleman that was buying a
set of wedding rings. He gave us an approving look and completed his
purchase, leaving the salesman free for us.

At a word from Angie, the salesman, a good-looking young man named
Paul, sent for more jewelry before even sitting down with Gretchen and
Trish. Gretchen was doing all the talking, describing what she was
looking for and rejecting most of what was in the displays as being
inadequate for her needs. Trish was starting to look a little
wild-eyed.

Gretchen did find some teardrop earrings that she was pleased with, and
while Trish was trying them on, half a dozen crewmen carried in three
large trunks under the guard of two ship's officers. I wasn't sure, but
it looked like the officers had guns under their uniform jackets. They
sent the crewmen out and stood unobtrusively by the entrance.

The items Paul brought out of the trunk made my eyes almost pop out of
my head and convinced me that the two officers did indeed have guns on
them. We had just moved into a price range starting at tens of
thousands per piece and ranging up to what I would guess was hundreds
of thousand per item. I thought Trish was going to faint.

When it got to the point that Gretchen thought Trish might swallow her
tongue, she said softly, "Don't panic, Trish. You'll make enough to buy
all of this, or you can just give it back to me and that'll cover it.
Relax." I reevaluated the earnings potential of an escort several
notches higher and wondered if being a doctor had been the wisest
course, after all.

Gretchen picked out several high-end pieces and had Trish model each
one before settling for a dazzling diamond and tanzanite choker, an
exquisite petal necklace, and half a dozen lesser pieces. Gretchen set
those aside, as well, for Paul to have delivered to the Presidential
Suite. I felt a bit in awe myself.

The next stop was the perfume shop. It was back across the promenade
from the fashion boutique, of course. Perfume, at least, was something
I thought I knew a lot about. I was wrong. In the next half hour, I
learned that I was in fact a rank amateur compared to Gretchen. Not
being an idiot, I let Gretchen select one for me as well. The feel of
her nose and lips hovering just over my wrist did things inside me that
I didn't expect, and I knew Keven was going to get dragged into the
bedroom as soon as we got back to the room.

Gretchen was finalizing the purchase when concealed speakers announced
that the ship was now under way. The cruise had begun.

As we made our way back into the Promenade, Trish took Gretchen's hand
and stopped her. "Gretchen, how much did I just go into debt for?" She
sounded a bit frightened.

Gretchen took Trish into her arms, giving her a gentle hug of
reassurance. "Not one penny, Honey. I promise that you'll make it back
easily or I'll be satisfied with the return of the stuff."

"I know you said that," Trish said stubbornly, pushing herself back
until she looked Gretchen in the eyes, "but how much did you just spend
on me?"

"Give or take?" Gretchen asked. "I'll get the exact amount later, but
call it somewhere in the neighborhood of hundred and fifty thousand
dollars."

"Ohmigod!" Trish moaned. "That is so much money! That's like a house!"

Gretchen laughed merrily. "Honey, that depends on the house. Remind me
to show you my car. Don't freak out. You'll make that, and much more,
before too long."

"Trish! Dear God, Woman, can't you understand simple instructions?"

The screeching voice sounded like Erkel with pretensions. I saw the
body attached to the voice walking through the crowd like a feudal lord
with intent. Hell, "intent" was coming out of his ears like steam. Not
that he looked more like a lord. He looked like the guy at Comp-u-geek
that had fixed my computer, except that guy looked more handsome and
wasn't dressed like an idiot. Simple deduction told me this must be
Skip Niccio.

Trish froze in place like a deer caught in the headlights of an
oncoming diesel rig. Gretchen put her hand on Trish's shoulder and
stood beside her waiting for the angry writer to stop in front of them.

He stalked up and took up what I guessed was supposed to be a regal
pose, though having to look up his nose at Trish ruined the effect.
"Not only did you fail to unpack my clothes as I clearly told you to
do, you failed to bring me my key. I had to get one from the help," he
sniffed. "Now I find you shopping and cavorting as if you don't have
any responsibilities! This simply will not do! Come along! "

"Actually, Mister Niccio," Gretchen said in a voice a little louder
than normal conversational tone, "she's decided to allow me to act on
her behalf in this matter, and I regret to inform you that she's
withdrawing from her agreement with you."

Niccio immediately puffed up and turned red. "This is outrageous! We
have an agreement and there is no clause for such an event! She simply
must abide by it!" He thrust his skinny, pimply chin out in defiance.

Gretchen smiled. "If you'll allow me to examine the contract, then,
we'll get this cleared up."

"This is a verbal agreement," he blustered. "All fully legal."

"Be that as it may," Gretchen said, holding firm to Trish to keep her
from sliding behind her protector, "without a written contract, it
becomes difficult to prove your point with any certainty. In view of
the lateness of her withdrawal, we will of course pay a fifty percent
penalty to the costs incurred by you. That will include the cost of her
cruise and her airfare. In addition, she will be moving out of the
cabin you reserved for her so that if you can find a replacement, it
will be available."

"You little tramp," he hissed at Trish, advancing until Gretchen
stepped between them. "I'll see that you regret this. I'll take you to
court and ruin you, as well."

"I'm not afraid of you," Trish said, trying hard not to look afraid.
"Go away!"

"Yes, Mister Niccio," Gretchen added, pulling her checkbook from her
purse, "I think it's time for you to move along. If you feel the need
to take this matter to court, feel free to have your attorney contact
me at the address on the check. The amount I've made the check out for
should be close to the amount you're owed. If not, please submit an
invoice with receipts. Please, keep any overage with my compliments."

"I'll see you torn to shreds on the tip of my pen," he said in what I'm
sure was supposed to be a menacing whisper. "I don't forget those who
cross me, and better women than you have fallen, their reputations
ruined by my writing and my vast fan base."

"Just what do you write?" I asked. "I can't recall ever hearing your
name or seeing it on a bookshelf."

"I," he said drawing himself up haughtily, "am an erotic author with
hundreds of thousands of fans around the world. I publish in something
larger than the dinosaur of a bookstore. In a flash, my words come to
all without the need to dirty my hands with money grubbing publishers."

"You're going to ruin our reputations with the people that read smut
online?" Gretchen asked incredulously. "Who the hell even reads that
crap anyway? A bunch of little boys that are too busy typing with one
hand to go out and get a real woman and who are too poor to pay for
one?"

Skip looked like he wanted to respond, but he couldn't seem to form
words and his eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of his
head.

I simply couldn't resist staying quiet any longer. "If it means getting
skewered by someone that probably couldn't sell a real book if his life
depended on it," I sneered, "then I'll take that risk. Take the check
and get lost before I actually laugh in your face."

Stung, he sneered back at me. "My fame is already well known, and
Philistines like you are irrelevant. I'll have you know my work has
earned me a number of Golden Clits as well and three times that many
Silver Clits!"

That actually elicited laughter from all three of us.

"That's probably the only clit you'll ever see for free," Gretchen
said. "Those who can, do, and those who can't, write. By your own
words, Skip, you write some hot sex. See the pattern? Come on, Trish,
we're done here. We'll send someone to get your things." Gretchen took
Skip's key from Trish and dropped both it and the check in front of the
angry writer. "Good day," she said as she set sail through the circle
of onlookers, towing Trish in her wake.

Trish turned while Gretchen dragged her away and stuck her tongue out
at Skip. I grinned at the apoplectic Skip and followed them closely.

After we had gone several stores down, he shouted after us. "You'll all
pay! No one snubs Skip Niccio like that and escapes retribution. I'll
denounce you in front of my loyal fans during the awards ceremony
tonight in the conference room! You'll regret you ever crossed me!" His
voice broke several times during his tirade and it sounded like he was
almost ready for puberty. No, I made a mental note to find out when the
ceremony was because it promised to be the best entertainment on the
cruise so far.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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