Saving The Game (2 page)

"Believe it or not, Art, I had the exact same reservations as the both of you. I didn't want to think of her that way but, I admit, I was relieved when she came forward and told me that she was a Van Meer and had only kept her former husband's name to fly under the radar, as they say. I already had my mind made up to get a prenup this time around but I couldn't think of a way of telling her without it looking like it reflected badly on her. Then she tells me that her father is Bram Van Meer and I saw an opening. A prenup would be best for both of us. I hope she didn't see how eased I was when she told me." he squinted out the window at the glowing beech trees.

"You lucked out there then. I can see how it made it a lot easier to broach the subject of a prenup." Arthur said, looking at his friend.

Still gazing out the window, James commented, "Yes, I suppose I was lucky. I really can't say if I would have ever got up the nerve to ask for a prenup if events didn't turn out this way."

Still looking at his friend, soon to be married again, who was staring at the sunset, Arthur made his own comment, "You do love her, Jim. I see that now more than ever. She really must be an amazing woman."

"I do." James looked from the window to his friend and smiled warmly. "And she is."

The two friends continued to drink and talk long into the night.

******

Lucille was alone in the back of one of the Van Meer family limousines on her way to Schiphol. She was taking public transportation but that didn't mean she had to go through all the lines and checks that the average person did. The limo would drop her at the unofficial VIP entrance just beside the boarding gate of her plane. There, a semi-private team would inspect her and her luggage. She had just asked the driver to take his time and now fingered a button on the console and the divider between the two sections of the luxury vehicle slid up, closed and soundproof. Taking out a mobile phone she hardly used, she dialed one of only eight numbers on it. The voice that answered after an eternity of ringing sounded drowsy and incoherent.

"Hello, Lucille. What do you need."

Lucille half expected this but was irritated nevertheless, "Jesus Christ, Julian. Don't tell me I woke you up. Do you know what time it is?"

"No. Enlighten me."

"Nearly 8 p.m. here, making it nearly 9 p.m. there in godforsaken Swaziland or wherever you are in the colony at the moment--and I know you didn't just go to sleep. Did you drink until noon again? Jesus. Never mind. Don't tell me. Just take a few moments and wake up fully. I need your attention on this." Lucille waited. She heard some bumping sounds and a loud crash.

"Fuck! My morning bottle!" she heard Julian shout over the line.

"Unbelievable." She thought. Yet, somehow he gets things done. And I need him to get this done.

Lucille heard a bubbling sound and when she realized it was Julian taking a piss she held the phone away from her ear. "Jesus, that boor."

After a few more moments she heard Julian calling out, "Hello! Hello!"

"I'm here," she answered. "I just didn't want the full audio of your morning routine. I could almost forget you graduated from a VWO with honors and were accepted into U of A--not that you finished there."

"I made up a quick batch of some hair of the dog. Vodka, egg, hot--ach, you don't want to know what else is in it. I'm good now. What is it, Lucille?" He did sound much better.

"Your services are needed."

"Okaaay! Another job from my favorite employer. My schedule happens to be wide open. What do I need to do?"

"Listen carefully. It's only a few minutes before I get to the airport. I am marrying an American. His name is James Stevens. Soon I will inherit his company, Sine Industries."

"Well, congratulations then! I raise my glass to you, Lady, thousands of miles to the North!"

"Thank you, Julian. Now listen until I am finished. Clear?"

"Crystal as the glass in my hand."

"There is a kink in the plans. Long story short, I need you to take care of someone--his daughter. A ticket to New York will arrive for you in a few hours. Her debut is in three days and you will be properly introduced there. You will stage it as a hunting accident in Africa. Things are getting too hot for you to deal with this in your usual way. We need to take care with this one--more people are involved. We're almost at Schiphol, I will brief you when we meet in New York. You don't need to pack much. Just clean up and, for God's sake stay sober until--"

"No." Came Julian's reply over the clear connection.

"What did you say?" Lucille's question terse.

"I've done this kind of thing for you before. You know I quite enjoy the hunt--whatever it may be that I am hunting--even eighteen year olds, hell, younger than that as you well know. But a girl? No. I will not do this. You can be extreme and I know that from first-hand experience. But, Lucille, this time I think you've gone too far.
Mijn God, Lucillja!
A child! A girl!"

"Have you calmed down yet? Good." Lucille spoke in a paced manner, but other than that, was beginning to sound like her father. "You like your lifestyle, yes? I know you do. Good. Who gives you the money to live the way you do? I do! Do you want to continue your work-free, carefree lifestyle, boozing and womanizing in the colony in between shooting whatever animal comes to mind--or some goddam combination of all of the above? Because as far as I know, if I don't assign you to a job, that's exactly what you will have, no job! This is what you are paid to do, Julian--supported in the style to which you have become accustomed. And, as you said, you love the hunt. I don't see what is any different this time."

Julian was silent for a while. Still, when he answered he was still firm. "No, Lucille. I can't do it. Men are animals--I should know. A girl...A girl is human."

Lucille hoped she wouldn't have to play her ace, but apparently Julian was not threatened by loss of income. "Bram's orders, Julian." She waited calmly for his acquiescence.

"
Drol
." Julian said, defeated. "Van Meer, eh? When does the fucking ticket arrive?"

"Check your agent now. And whatever you do, don't show up at Kennedy looking like you just came from a month in the bush." Lucille was about to end the call.

"This is a risky move even for Van Meer." Julian said, in a final attempt to bargain.

"After I explain the details to you, in person in New York, you tell me if you can come up with a better method. For now, leave the risk to me. You of all people know this is not the first time I've done this kind of thing. Now get moving." Lucille ended the call.

Julian tossed his phone onto the kitchen counter. He
had
just come from the bush--damn near two months, in fact. Two rhinoceros, God only knows how many wildebeest, more springbok than even God could count, a gorgeous sable antelope, four lions--but only one had a good mane on him--and a bull elephant that he dropped ten paces before it dropped him. Oh, and the Cape Buffalo that damn near killed him as well. His hunting companion for almost ten years now, Ijoye, always frowned and shook his head when Julian drank while waiting in the hide. After that elephant and the even closer encounter with the buffalo that Julian swore had flaming red eyes, he began to side a little bit more with his friend Ijoye--but only when it involved game that could kill him.

"
Neuk
. I'm drinking on the flight, I don't care. And I hope they have a goddam open bar at that fucking debut." He began packing a few necessities. Wondering how he was going to get his hunting knife through customs this time he laughed and remembered he was going to New York City. They probably had roaming vendors just outside the airport with anything he could think of to buy. Still chuckling, he stuffed what he thought were appropriate "American City Clothes" into his duffel bag.

******

Karen was walking in the mazelike flower garden on the expansive grounds of the Stevens estate, dressed in a tight tee shirt and just the hint of a skirt. It was already turning into a very hot summer. She hadn't bothered with a bra--or even panties under a skirt that barely covered the curve of her young and firm rear end. She seemed to be bored all the time. Maybe it was the unusually hot weather or the fact that her debut had to be postponed until a month after she had actually turned eighteen due to her father's travel schedule; whatever it was, Karen was always anxious, as if in need of some kind of adventure, some action, but she didn't know exactly what would quell this need she had. So, with misdirected youthful energy, she prowled the grounds.

She looked around for Emmanuel as she walked, ignoring all the flowers blooming around her, their mixed scent only registering subconsciously. Emmanuel was one of the gardeners on the estate, a step up from the general groundskeepers since he knew a lot about the care of flowers, annual and perennial. Karen went completely wet the first time she saw him, when he was being interviewed for the job a few weeks ago. His smoothly sculpted Latin face, his lithe but muscular Latin body that strained against whatever clothing he was wearing, she wondered about what kind of Latin he had in his pants--and didn't waste any time finding out. Last week she turned him into an official fuck buddy--and she was very satisfied with the length and girth of his Latin.

Turning a corner on the gravel path where a tall Jasmine bush grew, Karen spotted Emmanuel a little way down, occupied with a pair of hedge trimmers. He had the top part of his coveralls tied around his waist and her eyes soaked in the image of the white tank top taut against his dark bronze skin, shining with perspiration in the noon sunlight.

"Hey, Noel," Karen called to him. "How about you give me another early Christmas present?"

Hearing Karen's voice, Emmanuel turned to her, already beginning to get hard. "Miss Karen." He said, almost reverently. He noticed immediately the scanty way she was dressed. He knew exactly what she wanted and had no problem giving it to her.

Karen's nipples were straining against the cotton of her shirt. She lifted up the front and flashed him. "You want to squeeze these again, hmm?"

Emmanuel's hard on was complete. He glanced around. "Here?" he asked, sounding worried that she might want him to fuck her in a riskier setting.

"Do you want to lose your job?" Karen asked. "Same place as last time. Five minutes."

Karen walked past him, glancing at his bulging glutes as he kept rimming the hedge. She made her way to one of the tool sheds down the path and waited.

Emmanuel didn't have a watch but when he thought enough time had passed, he followed Karen, looking down the path before entering the shed. When he opened the door he just had enough time to toss the hedge trimmers onto a shelf before Karen jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Take me against the wall," Karen breathed, her voice deep with need.

Emmanuel walked forward, carrying her light weight easily and pressed her between the shelves on the opposite side of the small room. Karen had already begun to undo his coveralls as he moved her across the room. He wasn't wearing any underwear either. He learned fast. She liked that. Emmanuel reached a hand under her skirt, searching for panties to rip off. Karen smiled when he found none.

"Why put on something I won't be needing?" Karen asked before he took her mouth with his.

"
Si.
" Emmanuel voiced before resuming his assault on her mouth. He reached down and guided his cock easily into Karen's slick pussy.

Karen moaned at the penetration. "Now fuck me hard, Noel. Fuck me really hard or I'll scream."

Emmanuel needed no goading. He thrust fast and deep, pounding Karen against the wall. He reached under her tight shirt, tearing the side seam as he grabbed at one of her firm breasts. His fingers grazed over its nipple. He couldn't believe how erect it was. He thrust even harder.

Karen pressed the back of her head against the wall behind her and closed her eyes. Her thighs gripped Emmanuel's waist tighter and tighter as his thrusts brought her closer to her peak. Her forearms slid back and forth on his shoulders, slick with sweat.