Chapter 14 - Blanche
Chapter fourteen
“Alexandre, do you have something special for us for dessert?” I whisper to the sommelier whom I’ve taken a particular shine to this evening.
When he and the chef approached me upon arrival at the McDaniels’ estate, in a tizzy and hoping I didn’t have any allergies, I told him not unless he was planning to serve wine bottled this decade.
The chef huffed off in a tizzy, muttering in French about “unserious Americans.” Alexandre laughed, and I ended up with a few pointers about the family before cocktail hour began.
His help was immeasurable, as I knew that would be my first test of the evening.
“Just you wait, mademoiselle. C'est magnifique!”
As everyone at the table titters, waiting for dessert, I think back on the evening.
Even if I was confident in my abilities, Henry certainly wasn’t.
Before the dessert course arrives, I catch his gaze across the table and wink.
Instead of returning it, he raises his glass to me in a salute and continues regarding me with the loaded curiosity he’s had since we arrived to enact our scheme.
“Don’t slouch. It’s incredibly middle class to slouch. Flatter the men, but don’t laugh too loudly. Remember our backstory. You came to work for me, and we fell madly in love. Father fully approves. Answer any questions as vaguely as possible.”
Henry looked at me as if trying to find a flaw in my appearance, but the heat in his eyes and his silence confirmed what I already knew. There wasn’t one. I looked the part, and I was perfectly ready to play it.
And play it, I did.
“Mr. and Mrs. McDaniel, thank you again for hosting us for such a cozy evening. Allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Miss Blanche Bedford.”
With that, I’m thrust into the spotlight.
Mr. McDaniel, or Richard as he immediately asks me to call him, is a short, stout man who eyes me shrewdly.
It seems his son may have caught his ear and cast disbelief on Henry’s and my “serious relationship.” He’ll take some charming, but older men love me.
You just have to know how to gently flatter them, that’s all.
Mrs. McDaniel, Jackie, is warmer in her greeting, and the slight accent I hear as we mingle with her daughters-in-law gives me an immediate in.
“Vous parlez francais, madame?”
Her eyes light up when I ask if she speaks French, and we spend the next hour chitchatting over hors d'oeuvres about her childhood near Bordeaux.
As it turns out, she met Mr. McDaniel when he was there on vacation, and the rest was history.
My own travels during summers with my parents were to the same area, and to her delight, we knew a few of the same families.
“Have you managed to sneak Henry off to show him the beauty of the French countryside yet, dear?”
I can hear the real question under her politeness.
She wants to tease out how long Henry and I have actually been “together.” I’ve gathered enough information in the short time I’ve known her to deflect, though.
Beyond the intel we had already collected about how important family is to the McDaniels, it’s obvious that this woman’s entire world is her children and grandchildren.
Priceless paintings on the walls are joined by candid family portraits and snapshots from vacations, updated to include even the youngest McDaniel.
“You know how difficult it can be to get these men away from work.” I let my gaze drift to Henry as I sigh. “But I’ve told Henry how much it means to me that our children speak French and spend time soaking up non-American habits. Have you all gone back to France often?”
With that, she’s off on a lovely tangent about babies and joyful family trips.
Listening to her, I keep one eye on Henry as he does his best to schmooze the McDaniel men.
He always looks tall because he is, but something about this room makes him look enormous.
Sandy-blond hair, gray eyes…every inch the ladykiller he is.
“Oh, it’s so precious how you can’t take your eyes off him, dear. The two of you will have the most beautiful babies!”
“Everyone, if I may have your attention, we have a very special vintage accompanying our dessert this evening.”
Alexandre’s voice ends the long story I’ve been listening to the second McDaniel son tell about hunting lodges, or fishing holes, or hunting holes…
“Tonight, pairing with our chef’s personal favorite, crème br?lée, Mr. McDaniel has authorized me to pull from his vaults a 1945 Chateau d'Yquem!”
I gasp along with a few people at the table, while others, not realizing the significance of the choice, do not. Mr. McDaniel winks at me before explaining.
“When I heard you had spent so much time in Bordeaux, my dear, I knew you were the perfect person to appreciate the treat. Jackie’s been telling me for years we needed to wait for the perfect Frenchwoman to appreciate it, and here you are! French in spirit, if not by birth, my Jackie said.”
As Alexandre pours the exquisite wine, it seems that my turn in Mr. McDaniel’s spotlight has finally come. Henry tries to listen to his neighbor’s manifesto about tariffs, but I can tell all he wants to do is watch me sink or swim.
“You know, Miss Bedford, I was quite confused to hear that you were in our midst. I’d like to think that not much about my business associates gets past me, but nobody had seen or heard of your existence until you were carried into my hotel yesterday.”
Well, no one can accuse him of not being straight to the point. Henry’s told me a bit about how the Sinclair Corporation keeps eyes on competitors and partners alike, but maybe I should ask a few more questions about how widespread the practice is.
“I thought that perhaps he’d been caught with his pants down, so to speak, and wondered if some floosie was about to grace my dinner table.”
If only he knew…
“But you are simply marvelous, darling. Such deportment and education. Your parents must be very proud. Even my girls don’t pair your excellent posture with the business acumen I’ve heard from you thus far.”
Time to bring it home, Blanche.
“You remind me of my father, if you don’t mind me saying so, Richard.
He was always the only one who thought it worthwhile to ensure I was well educated in business, not just in the home.
He believed it would be of the utmost importance for me to understand my husband’s rants at the end of a long workday and provide a more meaningful sounding board for ideas.
” I chuckle as I crack the top of my impeccable crème br?lée.
“All credit for my posture must be given to my mother.”
He laughs as he surveys the table, side conversations still in full swing as everyone enjoys their wine.
“What I don’t understand is the secrecy. You’re clearly an asset to Mr. Sinclair in every way. Why aren’t the two of you engaged publicly?”
Make him feel like he can trust you. Tell him a secret.
I sigh and wistfully smile in Henry’s direction.
“If I can be candid with you, Richard, we would love to be. But you know as well as anyone that the direction for a business comes from the very top, and Henry’s father has his own timeline for announcements and milestones that we’re trying to respect.
It will embarrass him that I came along on this trip and that we were discovered, but, well…
” I pause for effect and allow a blush to heat my cheeks.
“You can imagine how loath we are to be parted.”
His knowing, fond look at Jackie tells me I’ve hit my mark.
“Jackie and I weren’t together for very long before we married, and it was hell every day we had to spend apart. Her parents were so strict. The things I did to not get caught…” We share a conspiratorial giggle. “I was much more spry in those days, I’ll have you know. What a time we had.”
Companionable silence fills the lull in conversation as we enjoy the wine and ambiance. I think I have just enough time to really seal this before the men go off to smoke and leave me with Jackie, who I think has pulled out baby albums and is frothing at the mouth to show me.
“What you’ve built is so special, Mr. McDaniel.
Being here and seeing your family’s love has been much warmer than the spaces I’ve encountered at the Sinclair Corporation.
As I said, we’re working with Henry’s father on the timeline for our union, but I can only hope to give him as many heirs as you have and run a more family-based operation.
That’s certainly our goal, at least, and I hope you don’t mind me saying so. ”
My comments hit their mark as tears fill his eyes. Sniffling, he raises his glass to clink against mine.
“It’s Richard, my dear. And it’s lovely to hear about your plans. I think I can speak for Jackie and myself when I say we will be eagerly awaiting our wedding invitation.”
The chime of a grandfather clock somewhere in the house announces that it’s already nine, and everyone immediately stands to move into our gender-divided post-dinner lounges.
After hanging back to chat with Alexandre about the wine, I’m the last to leave the dining room.
Moving quickly down the hallway to catch up, I’m almost to the door I think Jackie said was her sitting room when I’m yanked by the throat and pulled roughly into a hard body.
My scream is muffled by a hand covering my mouth and pinching my nose, and my dress is wrenched up without preamble.
“What the fuck is this, Blanche? Some sort of goddamn chastity device?”
I relax in the hold of my captor now that I know it’s just Henry. But if he’s mussed my hair by manhandling me…
“It’s Lycra, asshole. Keeps my ass somewhat contained enough for this dress.” He’s already pulling my panties down, hard cock at my entrance, before I can even protest.
He grunts as he thrusts forward to fill me, one hand on my throat keeping my back tight to his chest, and one making the quick circles on my clit that he knows will have me coming soon.
“It’s probably good that you wore it, although your perfect ass could never be truly contained. It has more fabric to absorb what I’m about to give you than a thong would.”
His breath is hot against my ear, and it’s really not going to take me long.
Which is good because, based on a cursory glance around us, it looks like we’re fucking in the McDaniels’ coat closet.
I try to respond, but he doesn’t let me, tightening his grip on my throat and speeding up his thrusts as the sounds of my wetness fill the small space.
It seems he can’t stop talking, a nonstop stream of praise as he fucks me so hard it’s painful without any prep.
“You were extraordinary. What gives you the right? Speaking French, cooing over babies. Perfect fucking posture, never an incorrect choice of cutlery. Yet I have you here, in a coat closet, creaming on my dick while I struggle to think of a way to fuck you like the animal I am, yet leave you intact enough to walk out of here. And you love it, don’t you?
You love everything I do to you, and I’d wager you’d let me do more.
I know we haven’t touched the depths of my depravity, and I’m starting to sense we haven’t scratched the surface of yours. ”
At this, I can’t hold back my release, spasming around his dick in silence as every muscle in my body seems to contract. With two heaving breaths and three more punishing thrusts, he stills deep inside me with a tortured groan.
“Fuck, Blanche.”
I expect him to pull out and right himself immediately, in a rush to rejoin the party, but he stays buried within me. He moves his mouth back to the soft skin under my ear and nibbles, whimpering when my cunt clenches around him once again.
“You want to give me plenty of heirs, I heard, hmm?”
With one more groan, he releases me and smacks me hard on the ass as I try to capture his spend that I can already feel seeping out. He watches as it trails down my thighs before I manage to get my panties back up, then fixes me with a roguish grin.
“Wait at least a minute before you follow me out.”
With that, he’s gone, and I’m left wondering exactly how fucked I’m about to look waltzing into the ladies' sitting room. How the hell am I going to make it two more weeks on this trip if he’s going to pull me into closets between meetings to fuck me?
I wonder how he’ll handle it when my period starts next week…