The Nightingale Agency Pt. 08

Eve rolls over in her bed, staring at the clock: 10:57 am. She has intentionally lollygagged most of the morning away; though Jonathan woke her up (several times) with his text messages, she continues to lay naked on top of the satin sheets of her bed. Resting her chin on her shoulder, she breathes in the scent of her skin, the stench of sweat, sex, cum and musk slowly fading from her body. Like a cat with a rotting carcass, she flopped on the bed when she got home the night before and rubbed her yellow scarf all over her, the smell of fresh sex only making her want it more.

Reluctantly she drags herself out of bed and throws on some sweats before trudging outside. The chickens angrily cluck at her, frustrated that they have been ignored. Her cats, now past the time that they want to cuddle, sun themselves in the grass, lazily watching her as she begins her morning run. Making two full loops, she does twice as much as usual, if only to wear herself out so that perhaps she can stop thinking about sex.

After tending to the chickens and playing with her cats, she wanders around her yard. Since Paul passed, she has let things go. Scraggy hedges have overtaken the side of the house, weeds pushing through the grass to make it appear like a prairie and she frowns when she discovers the pool, though having been empty for the past few years, is filthy.

Back in the house she flips through an address book by the phone, before finding the number for the old man who used to service their pool. She gives him a ring.

"Smith and Sons Pool Service, this is Jack, how can I help you?"

"Hello, Mr. Smith," she says politely.

Before she can continue, he recognizes her voice, "Mrs. Harrison? Is that you?"

"Yes, Jack. Say, I know it has been a few years, but I was wondering if perhaps you could get the old girl up and running for this summer? It's pretty dirty and I'm sure it will need some work, but I'm more than happy to pay extra."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Harrison. It is good to hear from you," he says genuinely.

After she makes arrangements for him to come out on Thursday, she flips a few more pages and punches in another number.

"Frank's Lawn Care, what can I do for you?"

"Hello, Frank, this is Gwen Harrison," she starts.

"Mrs. Harrison—how are you?" he says happily.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. How are Jill and the kids?"

"Oh they're good! Sprouting like weeds, though, no matter how much herbicide I use, they keep growing..."

Eve laughs musically at his joke, "Say, Frank, that's why I'm calling. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but from the drive my house looks like it is abandoned. Purely wretched. Though I considered buying a few goats to do the work, what with how much you charge, I figured they'd probably eat the wrong things anyways, so what the hell. Do you have any time to swing out? You'll need a chainsaw for the yard, maybe a blow torch..." she teases.

Frank chuckles, "Yea I can make it out Wednesday afternoon, does that work for you?"

"I will be at work, but if you leave me an invoice I'll get you a check right away."

"Sure thing, Gwen. Good to hear from you, too."

Nodding to herself, Eve walks around the house, throwing open the curtains in all of the rooms. Though she normally does this in the dining room and her studio, she rarely bothers with the rest of the house. But today, she decides, it is time for a fresh start. Gathering up some cleaning supplies, she starts in the living room and works her way room by room. When she is about half way through the first floor, her home phone rings.

Eve pulls off her glove and picks it up, "Hello?" she says, somewhat pleasantly.

"Yes, Mrs. Harrison? This is Sarah Kirkpatrick," the woman starts; the hesitation in her voice makes it seem like she isn't sure she will be recognized.

"Principal Kirkpatrick," Eve says, quelling the woman's doubts, "what can I do for you?"

"Well, Gwen," she pauses, "I'm not entirely sure. There seems to be some concerns with a few students...do you have time to stop in this afternoon?"

The tone of her voice leads Eve to believe that Sarah doesn't want to talk about it over the phone, "Ah, sure, what time were you thinking?"

"Maybe 2 pm? I know you have lessons in the afternoon, but I don't think it will take terribly long."

Eve glances at the clock: 1:03 pm, "Sure, Sarah. I'll see you then."

After hanging up the phone, Eve drops her gloves into the bucket and strips out of her sweats before turning on her hot rollers and hopping into the shower. She makes it quick, less than ten minutes, and irritatingly towel dries herself off. Hastily blow drying her hair, she whips it up in rollers before selecting her clothes.

Pulling on a satin, white body slip she tightens a white corset over her torso before sliding some stockings onto her legs. She chooses a robin's egg blue collared dress, buttoned down the entire front, modest, but vintage, she leaves the top four buttons open to show just a hint of cleavage. With just a few minutes to spare, she pulls out the rollers before hastily whipping up some victory rolls and putting on a light layer of eye shadow and eyeliner. She chooses a peach colored lipstick, giving her a much softer look than she wears while working. Instead of heels, she slips on a pair of white boat shoes before grabbing her purse and hopping into her car.

Eve gets a few odd looks from some kids hanging out in front of the high school when she arrives. She doesn't recognize them and assumes they must be freshmen. When she walks into the office, the receptionist gives her a surprised, pleasant smile, "How are you?" the woman says.

"I am well; Principal Kirkpatrick called me, she wanted to meet at 2?"

"Oh," the woman says, surprised, as if she didn't make the connection. Rising she motions Eve, "Please, follow me."

Eve follows the woman down the small hallway; when the door is opened for her, she discovers Sarah sitting at her desk. Sitting in front of her, with their backs turn, are two younger men—a thick, muscular blonde and a skinnier brunette: Jeremy and Frankie. She plasters a pleasant, innocent smile on her face, "Hello, Principal Kirkpatrick."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Harrison; please, won't you have a seat?" She motions to the empty chair next to Frankie.

Gracefully, Eve sits down, crossing her legs after resting her purse on the ground. The boys hesitantly glance over at her, "Hello, boys," she says casually.

"Hi, Mrs. Harrison," they both mumble.

Turning back to Sarah, she waits for her to speak.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, the Principal interlaces her fingers on the desk, "Well, Mrs. Harrison, I'm not exactly sure how to word this, so I will just come out and say it. One of our teachers overheard what they believed to be some...inappropriate contact...between these two and yourself. The teacher, Mr. Turner, has expressed his concern for the boys' well being; I told him I would bring you in to get to the bottom of this."

Eve keeps the smile on her face, letting her brows crinkle to show her disbelief and amusement, "Inappropriate contact? Oh my, that does sound serious, but I can assure you that Mr. Turner must be mistaken. These boys swung by my house last week to see if I was interested in the fundraiser. I invited them in and offered them a soda while I picked out my goodies. Once I was done, they left. There was nothing inappropriate about it," Eve glances over to the boys, "come now, you two, what tall tales were you telling?"

Jeremy looks up, his face beet red; when he meets Eve's gaze, he can sense the ferocity of her. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he stutters over his words, "I—I...I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison, it was all a lie. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I was just...bragging, trying to make some of the other guys jealous."

Frankie looks at Jeremy, before turning back to Principal Kirkpatrick; very convincingly, he looks into her eyes while lying, "Look, Mrs. Kirkpatrick, we're sorry. We didn't think about it before we said anything, but none of it was true. Honestly, Mrs. Harrison didn't do a thing other than buy some cookie dough."

Sarah frowns, studying each of the boys. Turning back to Eve, she sighs, "Gwen, I'm really sorry you got drug into this. Thank you for coming down...I will deal with it from here."

Eve smiles and shakes her head, "It is quite all right, Principal Harrison. Even though I don't approve of their behavior—don't be too harsh on them, they're just acting like boys."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Sarah mumbles, "Say, if you've got a minute to spare, I'd like to bring Mr. Turner down so that he can be assured that you don't pose a threat to anyone. Is that all right?"

"Yes, quite all right," Eve smiles, watching Sarah rise and leave the office.

Her harsh gaze falls on Frankie and Jeremy, "That has got to be, by far, the stupidest thing either of you has done."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison, I just..." Jeremy's face flushes red, unable to explain why he recollected their visit with his friends.

"You just, what, Jeremy?" She quietly snaps, "Wanted to brag to your friends about how I pranced around the house in a short robe? About how you saw my tits and ass? You're naive if you think I didn't let you see exactly what I wanted you to."

Both boys turn to her, mouths wide open in shock.

Eve shakes her head, "That's right, boys and I know damn well that you both went home and touched your tiny, virgin dicks while daring to think about me. Believe it or not—I have no problem with that at all. I dare you to dream about my naked body, my tight pussy and what ecstasy my experienced tongue could bring you to—but what I do have a problem with, is that you opened your little bitch mouths to brag about barely seeing anything at all. Mark my words you two, if you ever—ever—do that again, I will make sure that neither of you is able to cum for the rest of your pathetic lives. Do—you—understand—me?" she emphasizes each of her last words to make her point.

Terrified, neither boy can do anything but gaze upon her with fear and awe. Hearing footsteps outside of the office, Eve draws in a deep breath and removes her gaze from the boys, staring at some files on the Principal's desk.

As Sarah walks back around to her desk, she smiles, "Gwen, I'd like you to meet Mr. William Turner. Mr. Turner, this is Gwenevieve Harrison."

The pleasant smile slowly fades from her face, as Eve's eyes wander over his high and tight, salt and peppered hair, thick black glasses, and clean shaven face. From the sparkle in his eyes, she knows that he is just as surprised at seeing her as she is at seeing him. Admittedly, he appears rather handsomely intimidating in a pale yellow button up, black tie with black pants and loafers to match; she can clearly see his lean muscles shifting under his clothing as he reaches out a hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Harrison."

Eve forces her hand out while a tight smile forms on her lips, "Charmed."

Instead of shaking her hand, William brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of it. Eve suppresses the urge to slap him.

Seemingly oblivious to the tension between them, Sarah waves her hand at the two boys, "All right, boys, tell Mr. Turner the truth."

Eve removes her hand, replacing it in her lap. Reluctantly, she drops her gaze from William. Still frightened by her, Frankie finally manages to choke out some words, "We...made it up, Mr. Turner. Mrs. Harrison never did any of those things. We're sorry for the trouble."

Getting a firm frown on his face, he slowly nods, "I see...well, I am sure that Principal Kirkpatrick will dole out whatever punishment she sees fit."

"You are correct, Mr. Turner," Sarah says, signing a few passes before handing them to the boys, "To start with, I expect to see both of you in detention after school. Now, back to class with you."

The boys grab the passes, quickly scurrying from the room. William takes the seat next to Eve, casually crossing his legs.

"Gwen, William is who we hired to fill Paul's...to fill the horticulture position," she words it carefully, "though I know you have become a lot less involved with the school, we would love for you contemplate returning somewhat, if it isn't too difficult for you," Sarah says softly.

Eve smiles, looking up at Sarah, though she is furious and wants to start throwing things, "Of course, Sarah, I would be glad to help a little, when I am able to."

"Oh that is wonderful to hear," she says. Turning to William she tells him, "I am sure you know that Mrs. Harrison is...was...well, Mr. Harrison's wife, though she is truly a valued asset in her own right. Not only does she teach piano from her home, but from time to time she is gracious enough to substitute for choir and band," smiling at Eve she continues, "and she always lends a helping hand when we need her. I trust that won't be a concern for you, Mr. Turner?"

Eve glances at William; he smiles genuinely at her, "Oh, not at all, Principal Kirkpatrick. I look forward to having the opportunity to work with Mrs. Harrison."

"Great! Well, thank you so much for coming out, Gwen," Sarah says, rising from her seat. Smiling in return, Eve raises as well, "Not a problem. We'll see you later, Sarah," she nods and turns to leave.

"Please, allow me to walk you out," William says, seemingly chivalrously.

Forced to oblige him, Eve matches his slow pace with irritation.

"That definitely explains a lot," William says quietly, coldly, "though, I never imagine those boys to be talking about you. Perhaps they should take creative writing next semester, as their descriptions didn't do you justice."

"I hardly know what you are talking about," Eve says flatly, allowing him to open the front door for her. She doesn't want him to know what she drives, but it doesn't make a difference because her 1947 Buick is an easy guess, the bright green beauty standing out in the visitor's spot.

"Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement, mutual silence," he says, a wicked grin growing on his face.

Arriving at her car, Eve turns to look at him, "Why do I get the feeling that you are stupid enough to attempt to blackmail me?"

He laughs, "You have more connections in this town, it'd be a shame for your reputation to be ruined."

Pushing aside her disgust for the man, she speaks quietly, "I'm afraid, William, that you didn't read your contract with the House. As a registered dom, you are not permitted to slander or publicly expose another registered dom. If you do, you will lose your membership."

He rests his hand on the top of her car, leaning forward to make her uncomfortable. He is inches from her, looking down into her eyes, "What makes you think that I care about some silly little membership?"

She smiles, "If you lose your membership, there is nothing to stop me from exposing you for who you truly are. Do you honestly think I give a fuck what these people think about me? So what if they give me the cold shoulder, I have essentially ostracized myself for the past three years. The only people I associate with on a regular basis are the ones who know what I do."

He draws in a deep breath, closing his eyes when the smell of her hair fills his lungs, "I see your point. Then, perhaps, I won't slander you or publicly expose you...I'll just share my discoveries with our fellow doms. I got the distinct impression that no one really knows the first thing about you...Gwen. Unless, that is, you care to provide me with a...reason...not to?"

Eve makes a big show of exasperatedly rolling her eyes. Opening her car door, she forces William to back up. She ignores him as he pleasantly waves goodbye. By the time she returns home, her hands are shaking.

Though she forces herself to be patient and kind to her third and final piano student, Eve's skin still flushes with anger at William. Walking the young girl to the dining room, she meets the waiting father there.

He smiles, trying to act casual though Eve knew from the very first lesson that he wanted to fuck her, "Well, how was she today?"

"She did very well," Eve says kindly, handing the girl her books before walking them to the front door. The girl takes off to the car, leaving her dad behind to speak with her teacher.

"It is very clear that she has been practicing a lot more than usual," Eve says, making pleasant small talk with the father. He is rather handsome, if not a bit young to be the father of a twelve year old girl. Barely Eve's height, he has graying brown hair but a brilliant smile. When she first started teaching his daughter five years ago, he was a very svelte man, but over the years layers of fat have become insulation around his torso, making him a bit plump.

Even so, he doesn't consider Eve out of his reach, "Yes, however it is rather unfortunate. Her mother and I split up recently, and I'm afraid that Kerry has spent more time practicing so that she doesn't have to deal with her feelings."

Though he says it somewhat sincerely, he might as well have said I'm single now, want to fuck?

Eve sighs, training her focus on the girl, "That is rather unfortunate, but many beautiful things come from pain. It is something that we, as musicians, learn when we study the great works," smiling, she turns back to her house, dismissing the man, "I suppose we should be thankful that she is turning to something constructive, instead of to drugs." He laughs, his eyes wandering over her ass as she walks away, "Yes, she's doing much better than me. We'll see you next week, Mrs. Harrison."

Eve makes short work of removing her clothing so that she can wander around her house naked. Despite having already allowed herself two glasses, she grabs a third one of red wine, sitting in an arm chair of her office while she stews. William—how she despises him. Yet as she begins to explore the reason, she finds it hard to place her finger on it. He is arrogant, cocky, confident. Perhaps he is masochistic, but that isn't what gets her. He reminds her of someone, someone very dear to her. Years ago, Eve would never have had the gall to defy a man like him, but after honing her dominant abilities, she doubts if she could ever truly return to a fully submissive lifestyle.

Perhaps she should, she wonders. After Paul passed, she seemed to tip over the edge. It was at least two months before she would drag herself out into public and pretend that she was fine. As if in an attempt to retain her connection to him, she finally applied for membership at the House, but when it came time to check the box, she hesitated. Submissive...or Dominant... She doesn't know what made her check Dominant, but from that moment forward Eve Nightingale was born and Gwen Harrison was pushed away. Gwen was weak, unable to take care of herself because there was always a man around to direct her, to protect her, to love her--but Eve, she was strong. She did what needed to be done—she was the one who took care of people. With her life lacking purpose and focus, she decided to do for others what Paul initially had done for her: bring out their inner submissive.

Eve has come to terms that the one true love of her life, her Master, is gone. He will never come back. Even submitting to Octavian is different—she is defiant, cheeky, ornery...Paul would have never stood for any of that. But she knows that who she was with Paul, is someone she will never be able to be again while with someone else, because she will never love, cherish, fear and respect anyone as much as him. On the verge of exposure at William's hand, she wonders again if she should just stop. No more clients. No more Nightingale Agency...but then, her mind is drug back to Jonathan. Something about him, the way he behaves, the way he needs her...she knows that she can't abandon him. Eve can remember what life was like before her Paul, before she was taught who she truly was on the inside. Swigging the last gulp of wine, she knows what she must do. She must stop hiding...she will be the person she is now, not the person she was then, not the person she wants to be. The Eve of now is human. She feels, she yearns, she hurts. No more secrets, no more shutting everyone out. She will help others discover their selves. She will submit to Octavian, let him into her life, dare to let herself try to love again. She will be...Eve Nightingale.