Complementing Morgan Pt. 02A

Her mobile rang again.

"Lydia Saunders, how can I help you?"

"Yes, that's right. Ah, good to hear from you again, K.T.," Lydia said, urgently gesturing Derek to stand beside her, and activating the mobile's speaker.

"Go on." The female voice on the other end of the mobile wasn't familiar to him.

Lydia raised her eyebrows and pointed at him to indicate that he should take it from there.

"This is Derek Simon. I heard you were interested in getting in touch with me. I'm afraid I won't be able to make Lydia's auction, but that doesn't mean we can't talk now. "

"Mr. Simon, what a surprise!" Something about the way she said it, told him that it wasn't a particularly pleasant surprise for her. Good.

"Ms. K.T., is that right? I have to ask, have we met before? Hearing about your interest in my business from Lydia was a bit unusual. You could have sent a letter or an email."

"I can imagine," she said. "I confess, the person I represent can be quite eccentric. Very private, very paranoid at times. I apologize for any inconvenience. And no, we haven't met before, but I'd very much like to find a time to sit down in person."

"I can appreciate eccentricity," Derek acknowledged, "However, this is awkward. Lydia here is the jealous type. She's gotten the idea that you might be a secret love interest of mine turned stalker. I don't have a secret love interest, but I have to admit, with the scrambler glasses and a business card with nothing but initials, I can't really blame her for thinking something is wrong with this picture."

There was a long pause. "We have never met Mr. Simon. I can assure both you and Ms. Saunders that I am not now, never have been and never will be interested in a romantic relationship with you. Is that satisfactory?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. Evidently there would be no convincing her.

"That answers my first question," Derek said. "As I was telling Lydia earlier, I've had some trouble with some unhappy customers getting their orders mixed up lately. It's gotten so bad, my car was recently vandalized. You and your eccentric employer wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would they?"

"I promise you, this is the first I've heard of it," K.T said. "I've been gathering information about you and your business as part of the due diligence process for my employer. Nothing more."

"But if you've been looking into my business, then surely you know about the order mix-ups?" Derek pressed on. "I had a problem with a factory, where instead of the furniture the customer requested, they were instead shipped a set of five purple chairs. A very ugly purple, in a very ugly style I might add. That style was popular ten years ago, but it's out of fashion now."

"I can appreciate how your customer might have been quite upset by that." K.T.s tone was slow. Deliberate. He was pretty sure that she understood perfectly well they weren't discussing furniture. "Purple is such an ugly color for a dining set. Who ordered it in the first place? Surely there must be another customer out there expecting her five purple chairs?"

"No," Derek said. "The strangest part of the whole thing is that I don't sell chairs like that and further, none of the factories I contract to assemble my designs built them either. So, not only did the orders get erroneously canceled in the factory systems, they never built what got delivered. I'm concerned about possible sabotage, and I'm very interested in the source of those purple chairs."

"And you're absolutely certain that you didn't make an error somewhere?" K.T. asked. "Sell someone something you didn't intend to, send the wrong instructions to your factory, perhaps?"

"No, but someone, somewhere did. I think it might have been you. You wore scrambler glasses to get in touch with my ex-girlfriend. I wonder who you really are, and if you know anything about purple chairs."

"Mr. Simon, my client has an interest in the furniture business, and believe it or not I have seen chairs of all colors before. However, I had nothing whatsoever to do with these purple chairs. I appreciate your honesty regarding your recent troubles. I am still interested in your business — if not an out-right purchase, a partnership. As I told Lydia, I'd like to meet you in person."

"I don't think so." How gullible did this woman think he was? "I can't help but notice you haven't even given me your name. I don't trust you, and I'm not interested in either selling or entering into a partnership. I can resolve this recent issue with the purple chairs, and the vandalism of my vehicle on my own. I respectfully decline your offer."

"I see." K.T.'s voice was carefully neutral. "I can appreciate that you may need some time to think it over. I'll be in touch." She hung up.

"You want to tell me who that was, and what you two were really talking about?" Lydia asked after a brief silence. "Or are you going to keep playing dumb?"

"I have no idea who she is. I wish I did. Believe it or not, I wasn't lying about the vandalism. If you look out your window at the parking lot you won't see my old Tesla."

Lydia did not move towards the window. "Do you think I'm an idiot? You weren't talking about dining sets. Purple chairs, my ass. You don't want to be straight with me, fine. I guess people never change. There's the door."

Derek couldn't really blame her for being frustrated. She was right that there was more going on than he could share, even though he hadn't lied to her.

"I know you don't believe me," he told her. "But I didn't dump you to be with another woman, and I never cheated on you. Yes, I have some idea what K.T. wants and it's definitely not a relationship. I don't know who she is. Since I'm obviously not going to convince you that I'm telling the truth, I'll be leaving now."

"Yes," Lydia said. "That's probably best."

She didn't even glance at him as he left.

Derek should have been worried about K.T.'s threat to "stay in touch." Instead, he was pissed.

He was pissed at Lydia. He'd got more information out of Lydia than he could reasonably have hoped for, but it didn't feel like a victory.

She had always tried to control the conversation, and she always succeeded. Logic and reason bounced off of her. There was no winning and there never had been. That's why he left. Even now, years later, he'd fallen into his old patterns with her. Somehow, she still dominated the conversation despite his best efforts to prevent it.

Seeing Lydia again had reminded Derek how much he hated being manipulated, hated being pushed around by the whims of others. It wasn't only the deliberate manipulations, either. Lydia's inclination to pursue the latest fashions, to be seen as respectable, meant that being with her had left him at the mercy of any harebrained fad that caught on. That was bullshit.

Morgan on the other hand, there was no danger of that ever happening with her, was there? Whether he wanted it or not, he was truly, completely in control of this relationship.

Nevertheless, given that he wasn't responsible for what had happened to her, he had to admit: he did want it.

It wasn't that Derek thought Ed had lied to him, but her agenda had obviously skewed her perception. Her facts were true, but her perspective was warped. She was, after all, a bitch.

How many women had trouble bringing themselves to orgasm, even without a Complement? The Complement guaranteed a woman that orgasm every time she had sex with her keyholder. It guaranteed that a couple could always come together. Wasn't that worth something? There was a reason these things had been approved for use in the first place.

The Complements weren't evil. The only injustice was forcing them on prisoners without their consent, something he had no part in whatsoever.

According to Ed, Morgan might want more sex than he did. So what? There was no reason he couldn't put his foot down and handle the situation without treating Morgan like one of the women in one of Ed's horror stories. There had to be a middle ground.

Sure, Morgan might not be happy being told no. He cared for her, but it he could be firm if necessary. If she was going to function in society, she couldn't demand sex every five minutes. If he had to set some ground rules to prevent that, so be it. He could even do so with a clear conscience.

He did truly want to help Morgan. She was innocent, and there were people out there intent on making sure no one discovered the truth. She didn't deserve that, and he wanted to help her. She was his now, under his protection, whatever protection he could offer. He wouldn't let the monsters who had done this to her win. Whatever it might cost, whatever it might take, he would get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

The conjugal visit was only a few days away, and he would make sure Morgan got exactly what she needed, even if he had to go though a cavity search, as Ed had mentioned. He would be there for her.

But she was his now, not the other way around. She wouldn't dare try to push him around like Lydia had after she got out. If he ever needed to reprimand her, all he had to do was… nothing at all.

He had to admit: That thought, in and of itself, was a major turn on. He kept playing that scenario over in his mind: He imagined Morgan begging him for sex, and then turning her down merely to enforce his point. The idea of turning the tables that way on the traditional gender stereotypes was fundamentally satisfying. And arousing.

In spite of the primal desire such thoughts awoke in him, he would never deny Morgan on a whim. He would only do what was best for Morgan. Ed said it herself: A Complemented woman was almost like a slave. The men that could live with that were the ones who weren't afraid to lay down the rules. Morgan would need a firm hand.

He could do that. He would do that.

— End Part 2A —

This part has been a beast to write. I have a very clear idea where the story is going but writing this part involved filling in a lot of gaps in my original road-map. Getting the different plot threads to work together cohesively, while staying on track for where I want to go has been a struggle. I apologize for the long delay between parts.

The reason I'm calling this Part 2A instead of Part 2 is that I'm ending it at a point before where I feel the current section of the story should end. However, I've reached 54k words and it's been long enough since I published Part 1 that it's time to call it Part 2A and publish now.

I fully realize that there are a few things missing from what you might have been expecting, such as the conjugal visit and whatever Arnold's been up to. Both will be part of Part 2B, and were initially part of what I intended for Part 2. I've been meticulously cleaning, polishing and loading a vast arsenal of Chekhov firearms. Unfortunately, like Morgan, you'll have to wait a bit longer for the — ahem — explosive discharge.

As always, all constructive feedback is greatly appreciated.