Loving Claire Pt. 04

"I'll say yes and confirm tomorrow by email."

The clients had come in toward the end of the call and smothered me in horsy smell. "Joyce and George are coming over?"

"Yes. We need to put on a bit of a do for them. I'm begging some more free advice."

They giggled, "Ha, the young architect is working on his political smarts. We can help with that!"

"We have to wash Annie off of you, and then I am hosting dinner out. We are celebrating being back together."

I was pummeled and stripped. My pinches on their bare bodies were everywhere. It was a light hearted moment. Two savvy women and their architect made a strong team.

I spread a big towel on the large bed and worked lotion into the horsewomen. "I never knew that hanging out with horses and their women would be such fun."

"Keep doing that, it feels divine. We never knew that hanging out with a young architect would revive our sex lives... and other good things."

My male part was hard and eager, but I resisted the impulse. Maybe later.

Sitting on the terrace at our favorite restaurant, they sipped their martinis and gave me the slitted eyes. "What is on your mind that requires George?"

"We are getting close to submitting the full application package. I am worried that in the anti-development culture around here, it is vulnerable to attack. Perhaps George can advise us on ways to outwit potential adversaries."

"Hmmm." More sips of gin and low hums. I smiled and pretended to be dumb. Maybe pillow talk would help. The food was excellent and I carried the conversation with odd questions about the horse facilities and trails. Then branched into a dialog about water and water play.

"Elliot, it is too foggy and cool here for a fully outdoor pool. Can you design something with a cover that is not too hideous to look at?"

I pondered this for a few moments and asked, "What about an approach that blends pool and solarium? We could adopt British style with citrus and other tropical plants? A lap pool with a spa adjacent?"

Claire saw the potential of what I proposed. "You could hide this in the rear, with enclosing wings? A private retreat for the owner and her friends?"

I picked up her hand for a kiss, "As you wish, dear client."

"Oof! Elise, he is getting worse and worse!"

The meal required no dessert and we wandered out into the warm evening, floating on thoughts of Claire's new retreat, complete with water and tropical plants.

Unfortunately, the condo had no retreat, but the naked ones brought smoky liqueur in small glasses to our bed, where I had been directed to arrange myself without clothes. I was leaning against the headboard and they were leaning on me.

"Elliot, we work awfully well together. I think Claire is right, there should be a partnership among the three of us when you are done with school." Her hand strayed under the sheet to where I was hard and squeezed. Claire snuggled close for kisses.

"She's right, you know. We are a good team." Now there were two hands fooling around under the sheet. I made one of my low male noises.

"You already seduced me. Several different times. I am putty in your hands..."

He was limp and I was asleep.

Chapter Fifteen - Another Sleepover

George was in his finest form, lubricated by more than one glass of incredibly expensive Carneros Chardonnay. We were gathered in the Woodacre shack, surrounded by Marin nostalgia.

"Elliot, you must ask for an opportunity to make a presentation to the Planning Commission. Usually, they wouldn't allow it for a single residence, but since this is such a key piece of property, with public space nearby, I think they will do it.

"Start with the horsewomen and their precious animals. Everyone loves horses. Unless they have to clean up after them, that is. Play up reverence for the land and its connection with the horses. Perhaps find some local prominent horse person to send in a letter praising the design and the care for the animals.

"So, you have them on your side by now, and unwrap the easels with the glamorous views of the completed home from several directions. One or two should be from adjoining roads, illustrating that the house blends in with its surrounding redwoods, which you point out will not be disturbed.

By now, the clients and I were standing and clapping. Joyce was laughing and clapping herself. The ladies led the way to a sitdown dinner of fresh salmon.

George had one last piece of advice. "Read the fine print of the application requirements and submit only the minimum necessary to get on the hearing calendar. If you are lucky and they are as impressed with the design as I am, the staff will see which way the wind is blowing and obstacles will melt away."

The evening, which started with me as tense as a piano wire, ended in a mellow cluster on the ancient sofa. George had reminded me that what mattered in getting the project approved was a majority vote of the planning commissioners, not the size of the package I submitted.

From a perch in George's lap, Joyce poked me. "Don't look so serious, Elliot. If you could get applause from your Dean for the project submission, you can certainly convince a few Planning Commissioners!"

I was ready to fade in place, but the clients dragged me off, mumbling that the Dean needed private time with his wife.

Chapter Sixteen - Elliot Suffers as Claire's Planning Commission Date Approaches

Each morning in late summer was an exercise in wrestling and teasing. With a cup of coffee in me, I would drag feminine bodies back into the bed for ferocious attacks that got all our collective juices flowing. I was always hard, but told them morning sex was forbidden until Claire's new home had been approved. They giggled and batted him and agreed.

I made an appointment with the head of the Planning Department and tried out George's script about a presentation to the full Commission. He looked dubious but I showed him some of the new perspective drawings and he changed his mind.

"Elliot, these are fabulous. I don't think our commercial applicants do as nice a job." I came home with a thirty minute slot on the next meeting agenda, which was in two weeks.

Between kisses, the clients laughed wildly. "Elliot! It's working!"

I went back to my drafting board and they decided to call Joyce with the good news. I hollered after them, "Hold the applause until we have a favorable vote!"

There were loud voices in the other room and I wondered what Joyce was up to. The clients ran in and dragged me to the sofa. "You won't believe this, the Dean is sending Aimee to help us!"

I looked at them, mystified, "Who the devil is Aimee?"

Their voices were almost shouting, "She is a French engineer who just arrived to spend a year as research associate and adjunct faculty. She is an expert on structural and architectural concrete. Joyce says she will be happy to address the Planning Commission about your wonderful plans."

I moaned and hid my head in my hands. "Oh no, she will find all kinds of things wrong with my design. This is terrible news!"

"Nonsense. She doesn't have wheels so the two of us are going to fetch her this afternoon. You can use the quiet time to do more design details. Joyce says she has a degree from the Ecole Polytechnique, which is better than our MIT."

I ventured a smile. "Don't pay any attention to me, I'm just having a minor nervous breakdown."

The Furies were having none of it. "Don't be such a big baby. You have a marvelous design, all the pussy you can handle, and a sexy new helper coming to assist."

I frowned, "Sexy?"

"Yes, look at this." Claire was on the School of Architecture site and pulling up the faculty photo and bio for Aimee Posteneuve. The picture was very fetching.

The clients thought Aimee was a plus to our team, but a little voice in my head worried about too many cooks. After a quick lunch, they went out the door waving gaily. I moved to my drawing board and the design sheet for the concrete structure of the building. Casting a critical eye on my past work, I concentrated on missing details that an engineering expert would find. I couldn't help feeling gloomy.

I was in the middle of a series of design load calculations when there was a racket coming up the stairs of the condo and bursting through the door.

"She is here! She is here, la femme d'crete!"

A medium sized body in tee and shorts dashed across the room into my arms. "Elliot! It is so good to see you! These terrible clients are butchering their French."

I lifted the muscular package and twirled around the room, falling onto the sofa. The body sat on my chest, laughing and pounding on me. "Yes, the concrete lady is here. They tell me you have many talents and need a concrete consultant!"

I was being won over in a big hurry. Dark eyes flashing, she leaned down and whispered, "An American kiss, please"

"No, no, that is for later!" the clients chorused, pulling Aimee across the room to one of the pretty presentation board sketches of the house.

She peered at it, "Oh my, what a beautiful structure. George said I would like it."

She turned and asked, "It is ok for me to be your concrete engineer?"

I was completely tongue tied by the incredible accent and looks. This was the furthest thing from an engineering professor I could imagine. I dumbly nodded and finally stood to offer refreshments. The clients rejected my offer.

"Elliot, we must take her to the property and to meet the horses. Her family has horses on their farm and she has been riding since she was a little girl."

Aimee and I were ordered to the back of the Lexus, where she immediately arranged herself with head in my lap. "They said you are very smart and very lovable. I am required not to be romantic with you even though my French boyfriend and I broke up last spring. Is it true they share your bed even though that is not allowed between architects and clients?"

"They are the world's best clients and are breaking all the rules. You are in the business of making concrete and architecture go together?" My hands were checking out the body, poking and prodding.

She squealed, "His hands are very naughty. What do I do?"

Elise looked over the back of the seat, "He is like that. Beat on him, or maybe give him that American style kiss."

I was expecting an attack, but instead got fingers wrapping themselves in my long hair and the sweetest imaginable kiss that went on for ages.

She sighed and whispered, "I think we can work together?"

The front seat was laughing. "We knew it!"

Aimee sat up and kissed my hand. "This is very unprofessional."

More laughter from the front. "That is what we said."

The rest of the way to the property, she rested comfortably in my lap, mumbling to herself in French and kissing my lips once in a while. My arms still around her, I wondered how the dynamics of four would be different from three. I smiled to myself and kissed the top of her head.

The horses expected a daily visit and looked curiously at the new body advancing to the corral fence. Aimee made her version of horse noises and offered treats that Claire had provided. They put noses over the fence and accepted a treat with their own happy noises. Aimee looked at Claire and asked, "I can climb up on one?"

"Bareback with no halter?" she responded. With a quick climb and leap, Aimee was patting Annie and kneeing her away from the fence. They ambled across the pasture, both happy.

Elise poked the roommate, "Elliot has his engineer and you have another horsewoman."

There was a noise from the pasture and we looked up to see Aimee standing, telling Annie it was ok. They paraded over to me and the engineer shouted that I was to catch her. The crouch and jump was something to watch and I almost didn't make the catch.

"Elliot! You are better than my coach back in France!" Kisses followed.

I hoisted her to my shoulders and walked to the house site. The fog had lifted but stray drops of moisture sparkled in the filtered sunlight. She slid slowly down to my arms, maintaining the silence of the grove. Elise and Claire pressed to our sides. Finally, Aimee whispered, "We must work hard to deserve this glorious site..."

Claire added her voice, "He knows. His design is perfect."

It was a special moment. I said quietly, "She will help us turn design into real structure."

We walked slowly back to the horses and the car. Her grip on my hand suggested we had a new team member. Just as we reached the corral fence, she jumped away, "He is the devil! I am here five minutes and already drawn into your wonderful project!" She ran at me, trying for a head butt into my chest, but found herself flying high up into the air and landing in three sets of laughing arms.

"Yes, yes! We need an engineer, and we get a horsewoman too!"

Chapter Seventeen - A Talented Parisian Joins the Team

I was groggily awake in the Fairfax condo after an evening of too much fine wine. A steaming mug of coffee was thrust into my hand. The sun illuminated three female bodies, which were freshly showered and totally naked. The new engineer was as shameless as the clients.

"The clients tell me there is no sex with you until we receive Planning Commission approval?"

I covered my eyes and groaned, "Sadly, that is true. Your virtue is safe." The tent in the sheet covering me suggested otherwise. They all laughed.

I was allowed a bathroom visit and instructed to report for a working breakfast. I had hardly tasted the fresh juice when an omelet was slipped under my nose. My god, the engineer had other talents!

"Elliot, I know it is not fair, but I must discuss the need for a concrete laboratory with you instantly. We do not have much time to find the perfect formulation for your exterior shell. Chemistry is required!"

I was shocked. On top of everything else, we were going through a concrete mix experiment between now and the meeting? Good grief!

Claire patted me on the shoulder. "Elliot, she is very talented and has an international reputation!"

Aimee planted fingers in my hair and provided scalp massage. "Together," she cooed, "we will design the perfect mix for your building..."

I gave up and pulled her around into my lap. "You are a jock. Where did these muscles come from?"

"My mother is a champion tennis player, so naturally, I did not want to play tennis. I was on winning soccer teams for years and years."

"We need to go for a run and talk about all this."

The clients decided horses were more important than concrete talk, so Aimee and I drove to the Woodacre house and ran from there.

She poked me and asked, "How much of the structural design is finished? Have you done any of the load calculations? Perhaps the shell should not be integral with the internal structure?"

My head buzzed, the damn woman was fearsome smart and fearsome fast. I surged forward and grabbed her.

"You must slow down for the student architect. Let's find a place in the sun where you can instruct me!"

She was kind, in a cynical way. Fingers in my hair again, she spoke softly, pressed against my body from top to bottom. "Elliot, you must forgive the silly French girl for trying everything at once. You have a wonderful project and I just want to do my best."

Standing there, all sweaty, with a woman a man dreams about in my arms, I was worse confused than ever.

"Aimee, when you turn everything loose on the male, he has no comeback! You win. We need serious talk, let's go back to the shack, clean up and get into the concrete design."

With a last yank on my hair and a seductive smile, she said only, "Oui," and headed back. Following the muscled body was sheer torture, but I did finally get my brain into architect mode and keep it there as we showered together and she threatened attacks and I growled that sex was after our meeting challenge had been overcome.

Sitting on the broken sofa with fresh coffee, I was treated to a rapid fire description of the latest research on concrete design for architectural purposes. It was easy to see why she was sought after by George Collins.

"Elliot, to preserve the integrity of your design, we should use wood only for artistic embellishment. The core and the shell of the Cartright House will be examples of the finest in concrete use anywhere!"

I stared back at her, unblinking, until she stopped and asked, "What?"

My hand slowly reached out, drawing us together until my lips intercepted hers for a delicate kiss. She moaned, "No, no..." and collapsed into my arms.

I applied another kiss and whispered, "Yes."

Moments later, her eyes were closed and the incredible woman was napping. I held very still. A small voice in my head said, "You are falling for her, Elliot. Now what are you going to do?"

A surviving bit of mental rationality said she and I were going to hold romance at bay until we met the challenge of successfully presenting our project to the Planning Commission. After that, I needed advice from the clients about love affairs.

The eyes opened and she pulled me down for another kiss. "Young Elliot," she sighed, "you are causing me problems. The French woman has feelings for this hunky guy!"

I drew us up, "Yes, feelings are mutual. But duty calls. We are going to the condo and begin new design sheets for the Cartright concrete. You will put what you just told me in the notes. I will begin to gather supplies for the laboratory. Shall we put it here in the shack, or in the singlewide at the site?"

Her hand beat on my shoulder, "Yes, duty calls..."

Chapter Eighteen - Day and Night Mixing

For almost ten days, we submerged ourselves in concrete chemistry and mechanics. Things were so intense that Claire and Elise ended up bringing takeout to the singlewide where endless test batches of mix were prepared. We slept under two zipped together sleeping bags and avoided any romantic moves. This was a problem, because as every day passed, I was falling deeper in love. Damn!

On the Sunday morning before the Wednesday commission meeting, Aimee carefully removed the mold pieces from our latest test. It was sitting on a table where a ray of sunlight fell on it from a window.

I hugged her, "Lover, that is perfect!"

She wiggled on my knee, "That is the way to your heart, is it? Seduce him with the perfect mix? Ha!"

I found a boob tip to pinch and threatened violent loving as soon as we succeeded in our quest for planning approval. She laughed and beat on my shoulders as she usually did when she was pleased. After which I got a hot kiss and a whispered, "Soon."

Outside in the sun, she said, "We must carefully take this out in the trees and have the clients bring breakfast for a showing."

The sample, which was 6 x 9 and fluted to a height of eighteen inches, looked even better with a background of early sun on the redwoods. We had fussed about the finish of the forms and the smooth sheen on the concrete was exactly what we needed. Even not cured, it had an ethereal quality that matched the tranquility of the forest.

We were standing together, admiring our work, when the Land Rover arrived. The clients tumbled out and rushed over.

Elise exclaimed, "Oh my, that is incredible!"

Claire fell into my arms. "Elliot, it is more than I imagined!"

Aimee asked, "Do you think it is the right shade?"

I suggested, "There will be many foggy rainy days, Close your eyes and think of the color in the wet."

Aimee and I had argued over the brightness of the formulation. I pressed for brighter, saying the current dry sunny weather was not typical. To my eye, the sample looked very bright in sunlight and would be perfect in the mist.

Squeezing my hand, Claire giggled and said, "Please order an instant rain storm!"

Annie neighed at us from the paddock and the women rushed over with horse breakfast while I set up our own. Spirits were very high and the horses stamped their feet, asking what was going on. In a moment, three riders were over the fence and on bareback, shouting and urging their mounts into brief moments of flying around the fenced area.