“Tomorrow morning we will eat together. You cannot have Pepsi for breakfast and whatever you cook, you will eat, is that understood?”
When she didn’t answer he picked up the spoon and gave the palm of his hand a loud smack that seemed to echo around the room.
“Sure, fine,” she harrumphed, as she jumped off the stool. Turning her back she failed to see the twinkle in his eyes as she stomped to the stove and began cleaning up.
The very next morning she was able to produce a relatively decent meal of French toast and turkey sausage, if you didn’t count the black edges.
Marcus made love to her every afternoon and most nights. He didn’t spank her again that first week, although she had no doubt he was serious when he left that spoon on the counter. He was attentive and tender, bringing her to multiple climaxes each time that left her sleepy and satisfied. Other than the threat of a real spanking hanging over her head, she was happier than she could ever remember being. The sex aside, he was funny and smart and he made her laugh every day.
Mrs. Fuddy-Duddy, the housekeeper, was another story. The woman looked at Sue like she was a slug that had just crawled out from under a rock. When she came on Wednesday she hadn’t been able to conceal her shock that there was now a woman in the house, and a redheaded one at that. Sue wasn’t exactly neatand organized and she had inadvertently left her copy of their contract on top of her dresser. Apparently, Mrs. Can't-Mind-Her-Own-Business, read it before she disdainfully handed it to Susan and boldly asked if she should call her ‘Sugar’?
At that point Sue’s temper got the best of her and she promptly told the woman she could call her Ms. Shaughnessy, and if she wanted to she could call her “that redheaded slut I used to work for’!”
Marcus heard the yelling and abandoned his work to see what was going on and Sue had a moment of unease when he entered the room. Shit, this was surely going to get her spanked she thought, although she didn’t back down one iota. Her eyes were flashing; her hands were on her hips, the challenge clear on her face.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked calmly, taking in every detail.
“Mr. McCarthy,” Mrs. I-Can’t-Wait-To-Tell-The-Neighbors began, her thin lips compressed while she nervously patted her gray helmet head hair back into place. “I don’t think I can continue to work here, with this…this…hussy in residence. You’re a fine looking man, Mr. McCarthy,” she continued, not noticing the tension around Marcus’s mouth. “Why you would feel the need to buy a…a...creature like this is beyond me. There are plenty of good women around here, if you don’t mind my saying so, who would be delighted to keep company with a man such as yourself.”
“Mrs. Trowel,” Marcus replied, slipping an arm around Susan and pulling her to his side. “Your position in this household was clearly defined when you accepted my offer five years ago. Nowhere does it state that you may comment on or judge anything I choose to do in my own home. Ms. Shaughnessy is my woman, and mistress of this house. I don’t know how to say it any plainer than that. If you continue to workhere, you will show her the respect and deference you show me, is that understood?”
“I don’t know if I can work for a woman of her…”
“Then you are dismissed, Mrs. Trowel,” he coldly informed her. “I hope I don’t need to remind you of the confidentiality agreement you signed upon your employment. Be assured if you mention one word of this to the press or anyone else, I will sue you to the fullest extend the law allows. Good day.” And with that Marcus took Susan’s hand, pulled her unresisting body into his office and closed the door.
Sue was stunned when he spun her into his arms, laughing.
“Red, you do have a way of creating chaos wherever you go don’t you?” he teased before he released her and returned to his desk.
“It’s not funny.” she shot back, stomping her foot. “That woman is a total wretch, but now we don’t have a housekeeper.”
“And whose fault is that?” he inquired absently, already being pulled back to his writing.
“How was I supposed to know she was such a snoop? Why didn’t you warn me?”
“You,” he insisted, making eye contact, “should be more careful with your personal papers. I saw it laying on your dresser and should have picked it up myself,” he sighed. “Come here.”
Sue walked behind his desk and he pulled her onto his lap, rocking back in his chair. Her head nestled against his chest as he rubbed the tension from her shoulders.
“The way I see it, you have a couple of options here.”
“I have a couple of options?” she asked stunned, popping up from his chest.
“Yes you,” he informed her, tucking her back in place and holding her more firmly. “It’s your fault we are in this position. Had you been able to hold onto your temper I might have…”
“My temper?” she roared, pushing ineffectively against his chest. “Do you know what that woman asked me? She wanted to know if she should call me ‘Sugar’.”
Marcus laughed and held tight. “I like that Red, I really do. Maybe I’ll start calling you Sugar.”
“You do and I’ll…”
“Settle down, Sugar,” he grinned, completely enjoying her squirming as his body responded.
“Now as I was saying, you have a couple of options. You can find us another housekeeper, or you can take over the responsibilities yourself.”
“What? This house is huge. It would take all my time and energy trying to keep it up. Why I might even be too tired for sex,” she continued, relaxing against him and smiling, thinking she had him now. “Besides there is nothing in my contract about actual work.”
“I’ll buy you that car you want so badly,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling on the lobe.
