The Underground (17 page)

Once the facial was complete, Nathaniel felt mellow and happy.

“That felt good,” Nathaniel said, smiling.

“You sound surprised. What did you think? You’re in Sammy’s hands and now your skin is glowing. Your pores are opened which means the waxing will go well, too,” Sammy said. “It might sting a little,” he said, just before ripping the hot wax from Nathaniel’s brow. Nathaniel yelped like a kicked dog.

“What the?”

“It hurts to be beautiful!” Sammy sang.

Nathaniel felt new compassion for the poor men in the Underground who were forced to have their backs waxed on a regular basis.

“Oh, sorry. Guess you weren’t ready,” Sammy said while smoothing some sweet smelling lotion over the shocked area. “Just one more to go.”

Nathaniel didn’t yell when the other one was done, but it hurt just as much. He couldn’t believe that men subjected themselves to this all the time.

“Just a few strays I’ve gotta fish out,” Sammy said, leaning in close with tweezers as he pulled a goose-neck lamp close to Nathaniel’s face. Nathaniel closed his eyes and sucked in his breath as he waited for the plucking to end.

“Here you go. You’re perfect!” Sammy said, handing Nathaniel a mirror.

“It looks great,” Nathaniel said, thinking it looked a little too clean for his taste. Maybe it was something he just needed to get used to, along with everything else. Maybe it would help him meet a decent woman who could potentially be his future spouse. He also hoped it would help steer his mind from the inevitable thoughts of Shayla that he couldn’t shake.

——–

Nathaniel stood in the short line outside the POA waiting to check in. Would they know his identification card was fake? Nathaniel held his breath as he waited for the scanned card to go through.

Peering into the party, he saw a Taser whispering to a man whose color drained from his face. Nathaniel wondered what was going on. Was the Taser threatening him for some reason? Nathaniel couldn’t understand why they had to be that way, but remembered his mission and looked away.

“Your card?” the hostess said. It had gone through the computer without a problem. That meant that Joe Merino existed, according to the United States.

“Thank you,” he said, as he took the coveted identification and put it back in his wallet before entering the ballroom. There had to be at least 500 people. He glanced at the men who were mingling with a carefree air. He studied their stances, their laughs, and wondered if they were graduates of the Underground with more POA experience under their belts. He tried to look relaxed. It appeared that the ratio of men to women was two to one. He tried not to look desperate. The Underground gave him the tools to beat the odds, but he needed to create the opportunities to use his new skills.

“Hi Joe. I’m Mandy,” said a voice that reminded him of those ancient Betty Boop cartoons. She sounded much too young for someone at the POA. “I just checked out your resume,” she said, pointing to her electronic tablet. It was hard to believe that this petite woman in a fruity printed dress was actually 18, the required age for attendance. “Is there anything else I can tell you about myself?” he asked, knowing she had the advantage of knowing all about him. His knowledge of her was limited to what he saw and she chose to tell. He was also hoping that other women might become interested, now that he was talking with someone. Mandy wasn’t exactly what he or the Underground were looking for.

“Well, it says here your mom is dead. I was wondering how she died,” she said. This was not the type of interview he expected. Certainly not the type of question he figured would be first.
 

“Both my parents died in a car crash when I was 18,” he said, his eyes sincerely welling up, as he forced himself to think of losing Shayla.
 
“I try not to dwell on it. You’ve got to be strong and move on,” he said, hoping her sympathies would kick in, but all she did was stare at her electronic tablet, which made him feel even more awkward.

“Why do you ask?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

“Do you like cats?” she asked. “I have five cats, and I just love them. Being with someone who appreciates cats is very important to me.” Her eyes grew wide, eager for an answer. He wondered whether she chose not to answer his question or whether she had simply not heard. Wisely, he knew better than to ask a second time, even though her next question seemed just as strange.

“I adore cats! I grew up with them, and this is actually the first time I haven’t had one. I miss them terribly. What are your cats’ names?” he asked. In reality, Nathaniel was indifferent to pets. He didn’t really understand people who put so much into the lives of their animals, but he suspected he could learn to tolerate them. He heard the strong voice of his motivational Master Instructor coaching him from behind: “Every opportunity must be followed through. Take an interest in whatever they talk about.”

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Joe. I may be back for you later,” she said. With that, she sauntered across the room and immediately began chatting with another man.

“How many times have you been here?” said another woman who approached a few minutes later. Her tone was almost suspicious.

“Actually, this is my first time,” he said to the woman who was attractive, but looked to be 15 years his senior. She was well-dressed and amply made-up to temper her wrinkles. At least she offered a more standard ice-breaker than asking how his mother had met her ultimate fate.

“I thought I hadn’t seen you before. I’m Claire Jameson,” she said, holding out her hand.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Claire. I’m Joe Merino,” he said, thinking that her slightly husky voice was sultry. She was certainly attractive. Her long auburn locks fell perfectly to the middle of her back. She was a woman of understatement and class, which the Underground had taught him to hone in on.

“Would you like to get out of here? I’d be happy to buy you a drink that has more of a kick than the watered-down, over-priced beverages they serve here,” she said staring him squarely in the eyes.

“Yes, I’d love to, Claire,” he heard himself say with a politeness that seemed straight out of the Underground classroom.

Nathaniel was quite surprised by her forwardness, but maybe this was how the POAs worked. He wasn’t sure she was the best one for him, but turning her down would seem rude, and he could suffer repercussions.

Nathaniel checked out of the party without incident and slid comfortably into the passenger seat of her BMW 7-Series, as though he had sat in one every day of his life.
 

“I thought we were going to get a drink somewhere?” he said when she pulled into a parking spot of the Plaza Marquis, an apartment complex synonymous with wealth. He read about it in the literature Crosby gave him before he left the Underground. This was certainly a good sign, but he still felt funny that she had been so quick to invite him out and then she was taking him to a residence rather than a bar. He was starting to have a hunch for what she had in mind.

“We are getting a drink here at my apartment. That okay?” she asked casually as she led him to the front of the building.

“Of course,” he said. Her unit was beautiful with perfect city views through the large bay windows. He had never been in such an apartment. The clear glass motif offered a modern, minimalist look with glass statues delicately balanced on end tables and bookshelves. He felt like a child in a boutique where it was important not to touch anything for fear of breaking something he couldn’t afford to buy.
 

“Have a seat,” she said, motioning for him to sit on the couch, before she disappeared.

She returned with a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses. They sparkled as she filled each one with a deep red wine.

“Cheers,” she said, handing Nathaniel a glass and they toasted, their glasses lightly touching which set off a perfect pitch beautifully reverberating from the delicate crystal.

“Thank you,” he said taking a sip. She smiled broadly as she inched a little closer to him on the snow-white leather couch. He worried about spilling, but he felt good. It had been a long time since he sat in anyone’s living room to relax.

“What do you do?” he asked lightly.

“I am a senior VP over at Crown Center. I work hard, and when I’m not working hard, I like to pamper myself with fine wine and good company. Just as you see.” Her compliment embarrassed him. She was clearly interested in him sexually, but beyond that he didn’t know. Was she even open to marriage? He tried to put aside his own personal desires, remembering that finding a mate was paramount. Anyone better than Janice was a step up, but obviously he wanted someone with a big income and influence for the benefit of the Underground.

“I certainly like walks on the beach, although there aren’t any near here, and I do enjoy an occasional rock concert too. Do you have any more questions?” she asked before draining her glass.

“Well, I do have one more question, actually,” Nathaniel said, taking a draw on his wine glass.

“Ask me,” she said before topping off his wine glass and filling her own.

“What are you looking for at the POAs?” he asked, looking her straight in the eyes. The question was loaded, and his gaze of intrusion indicated he wanted to know and understand exactly what he was getting into.

“Well, Joe, you’re quite a fellow, aren’t you?” she said laughing.

He was immediately uncomfortable, afraid that he might scare her off.

“I’m sorry if I seem too forward,” he said apologetically. “I hope I didn’t offend you. It’s just that I’m looking for something long term and I hope we’re on the same wavelength.”
 

“I appreciate your honesty.”
 

Nathaniel wondered whether this was true. He became unsure of how reliable his instincts were. This felt like a game, and she had more experience at it.

“This evening, I went to the POA looking for something, and I found you,” she said. “I found Joe Merino, a lovely gentlemen who is handsome and witty and kind. She moved closer to him on the couch, until she forced her eyes onto his and she whispered.

“That’s enough talking for this evening, don’t you think?”

Before he knew what to do, she kissed him. He wasn’t surprised, and he wasn’t unhappy, but he wasn’t thrilled either. For the moment, he decided to let his feelings slide by. His body wanted her.

Her kiss continued as she climbed on top of him. Nathaniel could tell that Claire was used to being in charge, and she certainly was this evening. She pulled up her dress so she could straddle him and lunge her hips into his, a preview of what she would do once they undressed. She wore thigh high stockings that brought Nathaniel’s excitement up a level as his thoughts moved back and forth between Shayla and Claire. Claire pawed him aggressively, stopping slowly over his hardness to feel its shape beneath his clothes.

It felt good to be taken. Yes, he needed to find a wife, but right now he wanted nothing more than to plunge into Claire with all his might, and he could tell that’s how she would like it.

“That feels so good,” he said when she moved her hand on him in a rhythm that made him want to let go. Tonight, he was hers. He closed his eyes and kissed her, pretending she was Shayla, and before long he came with a powerful thrust that made her cry out.

“I came too soon. I’m sorry,” he said.

“Enough talking, remember?” she asked rhetorically as she led him to her bedroom revealing a king-sized poster bed.

“Lie down on the bed, on your back,” she commanded.

Nathaniel was a little nervous, but did as he was told.

“Have you ever been tied up, Joe?” she asked playfully.

“Once,” he said, preferring not to lie. It had been one of the Underground tests, by a large sadistic woman. He didn’t love it, but he wasn’t going to say that now.
 

“After tonight, it’ll be twice,” she said with a devilish grin. “I promise not to hurt you… too much,” she said as she pulled some cotton scarves from a drawer.

“I’m game,” he said, trying to act casual but when she tied his wrists up with her belt, but he wasn’t at ease. She left his ankles free and slowly took off her dress, her underwear, and lastly she slowly removed her bra. Her breasts were pert, and she ran her fingers over the nipples, teasing him. She now wore only her garter and stockings. He had to admit she looked sexy, and he felt the blood rush to his groin.

“Somebody’s excited,” she said before pulling herself onto him with a force that rivaled the Underground’s roughest Sexpert. He closed his eyes and thought of Shayla and his excitement grew. He couldn’t help but enjoy Claire as she moved herself up and down quickening her pace. He soon heard her voice of pleasure, but it wasn’t the voice he wanted to hear. He opened his eyes and couldn’t deny that Claire was attractive, but that’s not who he wished to see looking down to him. Still, Claire was kind enough to wait for Nathaniel’s pulsation, a well-needed release. After that, she collapsed before rolling over on her back.

“Oooh, you’re good Joe! That was just what I needed,” she said, laughing.

Nathaniel caught his breath and he hoped she would untie him, but she got up and left the room, returning with a pint of ice cream and a spoon. The devilish look in her eye had been tamed, and her focus was on the ice cream.