“And I need a… what?” Susan said. “A majordomo?”
“Or a steward,” I agreed. “Seneschal. Castellan. Chamberlain would work, although I think they’re royal. And you don’t really have a castle. Sorry, I’ll shut up now.”
Trip gave me an eye-roll and then said to Susan, “Call it what you like. But you have a business to run as well. Several of them, in fact. And you’re going to run yourself into the ground if you try to do too much. Wren did it, and it nearly killed me to watch.” He looked down and swallowed with sudden emotion.
Susan smiled affectionately and waited for him to recover.
“I’m just telling you what you need to hear,” he added when he did. “Wren’s back is better. Want me to ask if she’ll help?”
“Would you?” Susan asked hopefully. “I’ll pay her. I know it’s basically nepotism, but… I don’t care. If I’m the lady of the manor, I’m going to act like it.”
“You’re the boss,” he agreed. “I’ll ask her. She has a good mind for business. And she has some time on her hands now that the restaurant is on hold.”
“Oh? I’m sorry to hear. What happened?”
“Lots of things. It’s still going to happen, but nothing ever moves as fast as we want. I’ll ask her about the camp job.”
“You really think she’ll do it?”
“Yeah. She likes you. And not just for personal reasons. She admires your business acumen. Besides, she needs something to keep her occupied.”
“Talk to her,” Susan said. “Decide on a fair salary and I’ll pay it, whatever it is.”
“Sounds good,” Trip said. “Anyway, back to our other business. We’ll start the demo on Monday…”
* * *
The girls were ready to get away from camp on Saturday, so we decided to hike to the quarry. Christy wanted to dive and swim, which we couldn’t do in the closer pool. Trip didn’t care for the two-hour hike, but he knew better than to make a big deal about it. That would only annoy her.
We looked for the quarry access road instead. Trip had seen it on a plat at Susan’s house, and we found it once we reached the quarry and knew where to search. It led to the downhill side of the clearing, with an offshoot that circled to the top. It hadn’t been used in decades, so it was choked with undergrowth, saplings, and even some decent-sized trees. That didn’t stop Trip for a moment.
“Bobcat and a brush cutter,” he said as we surveyed the overgrown track. “Chainsaw for anything bigger. A couple of days and we’ll have it clear. Well, three or four.”
“Days? In our copious free time?” I said. “Aren’t you the one who’s been complaining about the schedule?”
“Let me worry about that.”
I backed off. We’d been doing our best not to annoy each other since the Granville incident. Besides, he could be as stubborn as Christy—more, especially if he knew what needed doing but couldn’t make the schedule work. He started talking to himself about demolition plans and equipment rental, so I left him to it.
“What’s he doing?” Wren asked when I returned to the blankets where the girls were sunbathing.
“What he usually does, trying to move mountains.”
She chuckled. She knew he wouldn’t give up until he found a solution.
“Should we try to distract him?” Christy asked.
Wren rolled to her side and propped her head on her fist. “Yes, my love? What did you have in mind?”
“Something naughty.”
“Naughty’s my middle name,” Wren laughed. “But what?”
“I dunno,” Christy said.
“She thinks better with something in her mouth,” I suggested to Wren, who arched an eyebrow. “I meant something of yours,” I laughed, “not mine.”
“Oh? Put something in her mouth?”
“I’m right here, you know,” Christy said.
“Oh, we know,” Wren said. Then she glanced at me. “I’m feeling peckish all of a sudden.”
I grinned and played along. “Do you think lunch would help? Maybe… a box lunch?”
“Funny, ha ha,” Christy said. “And I’m the box?”
“Of course you are,” Wren said. “Such a cute little box too.” She rolled on top of Christy and pinned her to the blanket with her body.
“Help, help,” Christy cried in mock alarm, “I’m being ravished.”
Wren silenced her with a kiss. I started teasing Wren’s pussy from behind, and she moaned into Christy’s mouth. A few minutes later she began kissing her breasts.
“Better give her something to suck on,” Wren said.
“Your wish—”
“Just give her your dick, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Trip returned a few minutes later, and in a much better mood. “What’s this?” he chuckled. “And why wasn’t I invited?”
“You were busy,” Wren said. She kissed Christy’s pussy and slid a finger into her while she talked to him. “Are you in the mood to join us? Or are you still doing… whatever?”
“What do you think?”
“On your back, then,” she said. “I need a place to sit.”
He laughed and joined us on the blanket.
“Roll over,” I told Christy. “Suck Trip. I’ll fuck you from behind.”
Her eyes flashed. “Mmm, a sub sandwich.”
“Oh, yeah,” Trip agreed, “it’s nice to be the meat.” He waved his hard-on at her. “Get it? Meat?”
“Oh, boy, here we go.”
“Nah,” he said. “I’m not like Paul. I don’t— Oh, hello! Mmrmph.”
“Sorry, he’s busy,” Wren said as she settled her pussy over his face. “You— Oh, God, right there.”
I chuckled and moved into position behind Christy. I teased her for a moment but then entered her smoothly. She groaned and plunged her lips over Trip’s cock, and the temperature in her pussy began to rise.
“I’m sorry,” I said flippantly. “What were we talking about?”
“Oh, shut up,” Wren laughed. “Less talking, more fucking.”
“Yeth, pleathe,” Christy said.
Chapter 37
Trip went with me to the design review on Monday. We needed to pick up a dump truck and backhoe, but he also wanted to see for himself why the meetings with Granville took so long. He tried to keep the old windbag on track, but Granville was a force of nature. A simple review that should’ve taken thirty minutes took two hours instead.
“He never stopped talking, did he?” Trip muttered as we drove away.
“Nope. And I have to deal with that twice a week. I tried to get him to do once a week, but he balked.” I cleared my throat, Foghorn Leghorn-style, and said in a drawl, “Ah don’— Ah say— Ah don’ believe once a week satisfies the requirements of the Board, vis-à-vis ‘direct supervision.’”
“Oh, brother,” Trip said. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“He actually said ‘vis-à-vis’?”
“Uh-huh. And now you know why I lose half a day when I meet him.”
“Yeah, all right.”
“And we’re going to lose the rest of the day getting to Spartanburg and back. None of the places in town have what we need?”
“There’s only one,” he scoffed. “And they only have small equipment, nothing bigger’n a Ditch Witch. So… Spartanburg.”
“Roger that,” I said.
“Today?” he prodded.
I stepped on the gas. The Cruiser lurched and accelerated, albeit reluctantly.
“Dude,” Trip said. “When’s the last time you had this thing checked out?”
A week’s worth of frustrations boiled over.
“When?” I snapped. “In my fucking free time? I work all day, draw all night, and barely have time to sleep. Fuck! This weekend was the first time I had to do anything I wanted, but you kept talking about work. Fucking Bobcats and brush cutters! Or, maybe you meant when I was smelling the fucking roses? Or sipping lemonade with Granville J. Bloviator the fucking Third?”
Trip weathered the tirade with remarkable patience. “Are you done?” he said at last.
I fumed silently.
“Yeah, I probably deserved that.” Then he chuckled. “Is ‘bloviator’ an actual word or did you just make it up?”