"A Neighborhood Party" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grayson Roger)

4

"Well, Bob boy, I think the program you've been laying out for me the last few hours should work pretty well. As Jordan explained to you, I haven't been too happy with the service this smaller bank has been giving me. They're just too conservative in their investment policy and I think a younger man with new ideas like yourself can help increase my returns on money invested by a great deal. Let's drink to a change as soon as I can get my affairs in order."

Bob, following the lead of Harry Burns, raised his glass of Champagne in toast. He smiled over at the older man's wife as she toasted also, and tipped the glass to his lips.

Boy, he had it made now, he thought happily to himself. He had spent the last two hours at their house and then dinner at Savatini's on the beach explaining the program he envisioned for changing the investment direction of his stock portfolio. He obviously had made quite an impression on Burns and his wife as they had spent most of the evening listening to him. Burns had really surprised him. He wasn't quite the hick Bob had thought when he had first talked to him yesterday in the driveway. Crude perhaps, but a hick he wasn't. He had punctuated Bob's rather complicated explanation of why, at this particular time, it was better to have some of his investment in growth rather than income stock with some sharp observations and suggestions. Some of the suggestions, Bob had to admit, were sound improvements over the plan he had personally worked out this afternoon. Of course, it was only a quick preliminary study, which he had made clear to Burns at the beginning of the evening, and he probably would modify it over the next few days as he received more information on the exact objectives he was to work toward. Some investors wanted to purchase stock that would not pay them much money immediately but over the long period they would gain more. Others wanted a short-term type of stock that paid high dividends to its shareholders. Burns seemed to have a lot of excess money that he didn't need for living purposes, so didn't need a short term investment. He could let his money pile up in a growth stock which would save him income tax at present and he could use the profit later when he retired.

"Bob, you're marvelous," Marsha said, "This is what Harry needs to get him out of that rut he's been in with that bank. I'm sure you'll do wonders for him."

"Why thank you, Mrs. Burns," Bob beamed. She hadn't said too much this evening aside from the usual social amenities that were necessary and had let them go about their business without interruption. But, it was easy to see who would make the difference in whether Harry Burns transferred his account or not. Damn Carol, he thought, she could have turned her charm on Mrs. Burns while he had been working her husband over if she had been here.

"Please call me, Marsha. It looks as though we're going to be neighbors for a long time so we may as well end the formalities right now."

"That's the best idea I've heard in a month of Sundays," her husband chimed in, a slight red flush of alcohol covering his cheeks. "We've had enough of business for one night. Waiter, bring us another bottle of Champagne-and make it good and cold. When I want to drink, I want to drink."

Under normal circumstances Bob would have been embarrassed by the loud voice booming through the dinner club but Burns seemed to be well known here and no one seemed to mind. Besides, he was still flushed from the excitement of landing an account this size. There were some larger ones in the bank but not many from a private individual.

"When do you think, Harry, that you can get your affairs in order with the other bank to make the transfer?"

He wasn't worried about it but it seemed a good thing to bring up at this point. He did have to make the appropriate plans for the re-investment of the money as quickly as possible. A loss of one day could sometimes lose a man with this kind of account a lot of money.

"Oh, don't worry about that right now. We can take care of it by next week sometime. You've made the deal, son, so relax and enjoy yourself."

"Now, don't misunderstand me, Harry," Bob corrected quickly. "I just want to make certain I'm prepared with the proper information when you make the transfer."

"I'd get it in writing as quickly as possible if I were you, Bob," chimed in Marsha. "He's been known to change his mind before."

"Listen you two. We're out to have a good time tonight. Bob's got the deal as soon as I can study over his proposal and that's that, so knock it off. Let's eat, drink and be merry as the saying goes. Why don't you two take a turn around the dance floor? We shouldn't let that good music go to waste."

"I would love to," smiled his wife as she rose from her seat. "I'm sure I won't have to worry about my toes, like with you, dear."

Bob led her out to the dance floor where the small combo was playing one of the quiet old favorites. Marsha took him by surprise when she curled herself warmly into his arms, making certain he could feel the sharp, full tips of her breasts pushing tautly into his chest. He had felt all evening that even though she had not said much during the business conversation, she had had her eye on him. He had tried to ignore it but had somehow felt her eyes almost penetrating through him even when he wasn't looking at her. She was really built and not more than a few years older than he himself and right now with the way she was pushing herself into him he had the feeling that he had better be careful. He couldn't let a deal like this be ruined by some stupid action on his part now. He tried to pull back a little, worried that Burns was watching them from the table. He had never experienced a problem like this before with a client's wife and wasn't exactly certain how he should react. He knew he had to please them both, but by pleasing her he might just offend Burns and destroy his chances of getting this new account.

"Don't be afraid, Bob," Burns wife whispered warmly into his ear, "I won't bite you."

Bob's face flushed in the dimness of the dance floor as he felt her push forward harder, spreading her legs slightly so that the mound of her crotch rubbed hard against the top of his thigh. The soft silkiness of the dress seemed to hide nothing from his senses and he could feel the resilient flesh of her right thigh pressing tightly between his own legs as they moved slowly in time to the music. She had made the contact with the softness of his penis, and breathing wetly up into his ear, ground her leg slowly and methodically against it.

"Surprise you?" she whispered as she felt the first slight stirrings of his rod beneath the pants.

"W-We shouldn't be dancing this close together, Mrs. Burns. I-It doesn't look too good and Harry might see us," was all he could manage in return.

"Oh Harry won't know, my dear boy. He's tied up with that Champagne bottle as usual and doesn't suspect a thing. You know I'm the one who suggested he change his account. I've seen you out the window for the last several days and just had to work someway to get together with you."

"B-But I'm a married man," he stammered in a whisper. "A-And you're married, too."

"That always makes it that much more exciting. Don't you think?"

Bob suddenly lost his tongue. He was so surprised by the sudden and brazen revelation of Mrs. Burns' interest in him that the words just wouldn't come. He just couldn't believe that she was the one who had set this up and brought about the change of the account. It just didn't seem possible that anyone would want to shift that much money around with the attendant risks it involved in losses for such a simple reason. Was she crazy?

"Harry does anything I say, Bob. And I mean anything. If we play it right we can have that account in your hands within a matter of days. It'll make you a big man at the bank."

As she spoke she still ground softly forward with her thigh and gave a low throaty laugh as she felt him involuntarily hardening from the teasing motion.

"You do like it, don't you?" she breathed through Bob's stunned silence.

Before he could answer the music stopped and the combo leader announced it was time for intermission. Bob was happy to see it come. He was in such a state of shock he still hadn't determined if she was kidding or not. But, she just had to be. Things like this didn't happen so suddenly. This woman had to be mad!

"You two looked like a couple of real love birds out there. The sexiest two on the floor." Harry Burns chortled as they sat down at the table. "Too bad your little gal couldn't make it tonight, Bob. We'd shown you two how it should be done."

Marsha Burns nodded slightly to her husband behind Bob's back as he assisted her to her seat signaling that the stage was set. She knew there was no turning back for the young neighbor now. He would do anything for that account and she had made certain he was aware of the fact that to get it he had to please her. She would make certain that she was hard to please. She smiled an inward satisfied smile to herself and lifted the cool Champagne to her lips. Yes, she was going to enjoy playing mama this evening as soon as Harry made his excuse to get out of the way. A slight tinge of anticipation rippled between her thighs as she pictured him naked before her.

"Marsha is an excellent dancer." Bob blushed at Burns' observation of the way he had been dancing with his wife.

"Nice body too, eh?" Burns smiled at him, raising his eyebrows. "Used to be the best in Vegas. Not too many years ago either."

Bob flushed again but Marsha Burns, sensing his embarrassment, came to his rescue.

"Don't mind Harry. He gets carried away now and then with his modern thinking. You'd better watch that sweet little wife of yours when she gets back. He likes to think of himself as the reincarnation of Romeo himself."

Bob winced slightly at the mention of Carol in that vein but ignored it. All he had to do was get this account and they would be set. She didn't have to become involved with these people at all and the way things had suddenly changed in the last few minutes, he wasn't certain he would want her to be. Of course, if she had been here, perhaps he wouldn't have been in the position he was in now. She could have been keeping Marsha occupied.

"I think Harry looks like he could handle himself pretty well with the women," Bob said diplomatically, smiling as though he appreciated the joke Marsha had made about her husband and Carol.

"Telephone for you, Mr. Burns," the waiter interrupted out of nowhere. Bob had been so engrossed in his thoughts about their remarks that he hadn't even noticed him approach the table.

"Be right back, you two. No rubbing knees under the table while I'm gone," he laughed as he followed the waiter out to the lounge.

"You'll have to excuse Harry." Marsha apologized. "He can be pretty raw sometimes. But he does mean well, so pay no attention to him."

"I think he's delightful, Marsha. And of course I don't take him seriously when he talks that way."

"But, my dear boy, you'd better be taking me seriously," she grinned a secretive grin at him across the table. "I mean what I say and I'm going to get you as quickly as we get the chance. I'm difficult to control when I get something on my mind."

"Marsha, you've got to be kidding." he answered. "Just suppose we were to do something and Harry found out. That's a fine start for a man to make in his new job. Why, I'd be fired tomorrow."

"I can handle Harry, my love," she smiled back at him. "You just handle me."

Bob looked up to see Harry approaching across the dance floor. He was relieved to see him come back and put an end to this play of words. It was a dangerous game, he knew that, and one that he knew absolutely nothing about except that anyone with ambition in the banking business had better stay away from it.

"Well, sorry, kids, but I just heard from the office in Ventura. We've had a robbery and one of the night men's been shot. I've got to get up there right away," He spoke quickly without sitting down. "You two stay here and have a good time. I'll drive on up from here and you can take a cab home. Sorry, Bob, but guess you'll have to see Marsha home for me."

Bob's mouth dropped. He knew what taking care of Marsha was going to involve but was struck so suddenly by the realization that they were going to be left alone there was no protest he could make. He sat almost stunned for the moment and raised his hand in a weak "goodbye" to Harry Burns as he turned from the table to leave. He watched him disappear through the crowd and suddenly felt like a helpless trapped animal cornered by the hunter. Her voice singing softly across the table brought him abruptly back to reality.

"Someone up there is answering all my prayers today. Don't you think so?"

"Marsha, we can't do anything tonight. What if Harry comes back unexpectedly?" he said in an almost pleading tone.

"Dear, he won't be back until tomorrow and your wife's away. What better chance will we ever have."

"No," Bob refused, an obstinate tone in his voice. "We just can't do it and that's final. I could never face Harry or Carol again if we did."

"My dear, order us a couple of double glasses of Scotch and then let's talk about the morality of it. Shall we?"

He mechanically did her bidding and sat in silence as the waiter disappeared into the bar and returned a few seconds later with the drinks. Marsha said nothing but just sat across from him with a faint confident smile on her lips. She had been through this before and was looking forward to seeing him squirm later on tonight as she really put him through the paces. She would make it a screw he would never forget, she vowed to herself. It wasn't often she got the chance to really break someone in who was this young and naive. In fact, she mused to herself, she had almost forgotten such innocence still existed. Even though there was not much difference in their ages, they were a world apart in experience.

"Well, here's to us and our getting to know each other better before the night's over." Marsha tipped her glass to her lips and took a large, deep swallow of the light, smooth liquid, her eyes sparkling at him over the top of the glass.

Bob quickly followed suit. He needed it. Here he was with the chance of a lifetime right before him and the success or failure of it depended on this damn nymphomaniac sitting in front of him. Damn Carol anyway. If she had been here this wouldn't have happened and he wouldn't be sitting here alone and at the mercy of Burns' wife. If she had only listened to reason then none of this would have happened. He also recalled his parting words to her. "Alright, I'll take care of it myself. I don't need your help." This statement was forcing him into the position where he had to succeed at almost any cost.

"Another Scotch for your thoughts," Marsha broke the silence, the still confident smile playing across her lips.

Bob tilted his glass up, finishing it and waved to the waiter to bring two more. The first one helped to loosen his nerves up a bit, perhaps another would give him a better idea how to proceed with this little game.

"No real thoughts," Bob answered her question after a momentary pause. "I'm just wondering what makes me so attractive to a woman like you who could just drop her handkerchief and get any man she wants. I'm sure you don't have to pay for it."

"You tend to underrate yourself, Mr. Benson," she smiled coyly. "You're a very handsome and desirable man."

"Well," Bob smiled back, the tension eased slightly by the Scotch. "I must be pretty desirable to have a two-hundred-thousand dollar account thrown at me like this."

"I'm not having Harry give you the money, my dear, you're just going to invest it for him. There's quite a difference."

"Is this the way this game of business is played?" he asked dryly, fingering the second glass the waiter had arrived with.

"Perhaps not always, but it's the fun way to play it. Don't you agree?"

He had to smile at this. It was amazing at how unimportant money became to someone who had it. And also, what it really could buy. He had never in his entire life thought of people spending it this way. In fact, not even spending it, merely using it to best advantage. It was true what she said, he wasn't getting any of the money-but he was still being paid. What a come down from the lofty thoughts he had had earlier today when he had been called in Jordan's office and told that Burns wanted him to handle his account because he was impressed with him.

"Shall we drink up and be on the way home?" Marsha suggested.

She sensed the break in Bob's resolve not to give in and had for that reason allowed him plenty of time to think and ponder over what the loss of a two hundred thousand dollar account would mean. She knew she hadn't completed the seduction yet but a few more drinks in the intimacy of the basement at home and perhaps a few of Harry's more subtle stag movies if they became necessary.

"Yes, let's do," Bob agreed. The second double Scotch had given him more courage now and he thought perhaps he could handle her without getting too deeply involved. If he couldn't, well, he would just have to see. He had to have that account at all costs, but short, he hoped, of prostituting himself for it. He knew, without a doubt, that this woman across from him held the key to his entire future at the bank.