The Playing Fields

Chapter 10

THE COMINGS AND GOINGS

Monday morning Ashton Hills awoke to a blank, grey sky and pouring rain. The brick road of The Pathway shone wet and slick as the file of BMWs, Mercedes and a variety of equally prestigious automobiles, wound their way over the wooden bridge and out to the main street. Cal Amarca shifted down and sped past two of his neighbours with a friendly wave and a short toot of his horn. He pulled to a rolling stop at the intersection, and then swung left up the main street to the Ashton Hills Bank, repeating the toot of his horn at other early bird merchants as he passed. Esmerelda Diggs smiled and raised her flowered umbrella as she fumbled with the lock on the pharmacy door. Everet Polasky was too busy poking at the water filled bulge in the awning over his vegetable stand to acknowledge, and the Baker's Best driver raised a finger after narrowly avoiding the spray Cal's Porche threw up from a large puddle in the center of the road.

He ground to an abrupt halt in his spot behind the bank, and dashed to the rear door, jacket folded protectively in front, and keys at the ready.

"Morning Mr. Amarca, not a pretty day, eh?"

"Hi Tilly, no it's not. I probably should have pulled into the garage." He slipped his jacket on, smiling at the elderly bank teller, and strode quickly to his office to begin his day's work.

*****

Milo jogged up the stairs to his second floor office, pleased with the ease of the endeavor. Checking his pulse, he smugly complimented himself, and marched briskly into his offices. At fifty-five, you've still got it Milo. The lights were already on, and Amanda rose to greet him as he entered.

"Good morning, Milo." She set down the file she was holding and leaned on the edge of her desk, smiling coyly.

"And to you, Amanda, dear." With a fast scan of the door and windows, he dropped his umbrella and briefcase and took her in his arms in a squirmy embrace. "Aah, you taste delicious my dear."

"Better than last week?" She teased, checking her lipstick in the tiny mirror on her desk.

"Naughty, naughty." Milo smirked and walked into his private office. "Did we get a fax from Downey yet?"

"It's in your tray, I think you may have to speak with Cal at the bank, Bill Croft is opposing the settlement."

"Oh yes, the bright young Mr. Croft. I'm not worried about his opposition; Downey has all the arguments on his side. We'll be in and out of the courthouse before he can adjust his tie. And speaking of Captain America. He treated us to one of his idiotic driving displays this morning, that damned Porche of his splattered muck all over the front of my car."

Amanda giggled, turning from the doorway and returning to her desk. "I think he's cute."

"Cute!" Milo sneered, watching the sensual rise of her skirt as she sat down. When she crossed her legs, he sagged into his own chair, trembling fingers feeling once again, for his pulse.

*****

Tiffany stretched and yawned, watching her husband follow the other cars down the street over the bridge and into the trees. The ornate, Swiss cuckoo clock on the hall wall began its quarter hour melody, and she automatically followed her ritual of pulling the weights back to their starting point. Eight-thirty, what an ungodly hour to be out of bed on a miserable day like this. She padded in fluffy slippers, out to the kitchen and poured a huge, steaming mug of coffee, retracing her steps, down the hall to the master bedroom. The covers on the king-sized bed looked like a bomb had hit them, so she chose the chaise lounge by the corner window instead. Lying comfortably, with her coffee nearby, Tiffany let her gaze wander across the garden to Allen's house next door. Their carefully arranged tryst had not gone entirely as planned. The red wine had left an impenetrable stain on his pants and on the beige broadloom. After fussing with a variety of solvents from his store, there was little time left for their intended purpose. As a result, her lingerie surprise, had resulted in the passionate nip she had been treating. She raised one knee, allowing the lace robe to fall away, and poked tenderly at the fading red marks. Maybe she could accomplish something at Richardson's party, she sighed, lowering her leg and absently hoisting her pendulous breasts.