The Underground Part 4

"Hey," she said, nearly out of breath as she approached her office.

"Hi," Nathaniel said, feeling his face heat up.

"Want to come in?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, feeling his heartbeat boom in his chest. She's your boss. You're her employee. She's just being polite because you serve her breakfast each day. Don't forget that!

As she placed her hand on the sensor that unlocked her door, she was quiet and kept her eyes on the door. As soon as they crossed the threshold into her office and the door closed, all formality vanished. The outside world fell away, as if they were tucked away in a cabin in the woods. He loved this comfortable feeling, just as it pained him to know it would never amount to anything.

Nathaniel sat down without waiting for an invitation. He watched as she quietly set her briefcase down and removed her coat that she carefully hung up. It offered him a moment of looking at her from behind. She caught the focus of his eyes when she turned around and gave him a slow, but knowing smile, clearly entertained. The smile alone made him stiffen, and he s.h.i.+fted the Chester's Bakery bag to his lap as he crossed his legs.

"So, how long have you been working here?" she asked, once she sat down.

"I've been here forever, since right after high school. Never worked anywhere else, really," he said. "This," he said, gesturing around "is my life and probably will be forever."

"Do you like working here?" she asked. Nathaniel kept his eyes focused on the floor, as an uncomfortable feeling began to settle in. How could he answer that?

"What you tell me is between us," she told him, as if she could read his quandary about whether to please her or be honest.

"I like working hard and earning a living and am grateful to have a job," he said.

"Oh, C'mon, Nathaniel. You sound like a G.o.dd.a.m.n commercial for bipartisans.h.i.+p!" she said, laughing. "Tell me the truth. I don't have anybody here to tell me how things really are," she said, her voice softening. "I'm just the new girl here, you know," she said, laughing.

"I think I'd better go," he said. He had been wis.h.i.+ng to have the opportunity to sit exactly where he was, and now realized it was probably better kept as a daydream. He had to get out of there and motioned to stand.

"Sit," she said, looking at her watch. "You've got plenty of time."

"It's not that," he said. She smiled at him with a relaxed, pleasant smile that he wasn't sure how to interpret. He had seen a zillion photos of her over the years, but they didn't come anywhere close to capturing her true beauty.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to answer you," he said, simply.

"We're just having a conversation over coffee," she said shrugging. She pulled the other cup of coffee from the bag in between them and offered it to him. He couldn't help but think about how Janice held her gla.s.s out to him the previous evening, tricking him by gripping it tight when he went to take it. Shayla's fingers momentarily touched his as he took the coffee. How he wished they could linger there, but knew that he needed to banish those thoughts. You are her employee and she is your boss, he reminded himself yet again. That didn't help him manage the allure of her.

He took a sip of coffee, hoping this conversation would go somewhere else.

"Now tell me, how do you like working here?"

"I like working here as much as any man probably likes working anywhere," he said, "which is to say, not very much."

She tilted her head and looked at him with a curiosity that didn't make him feel threatened.

"It's challenging...," he continued, feeling like he still wanted to tread lightly.

"I'm listening."

"I can't say anymore."

"Nathaniel," she said, leaning toward him. "I'm asking you because I want to know. I really do. I want to know why you don't like it and I want to make it better. Nothing bad is going to happen to you for speaking the truth."

He laughed out loud at the irony of where he sat, who was talking to him, and what she said.

"Why are you laughing?"

"The tension in this room is so big that I'm surprised either of us can breathe," he said, looking straight at her. "I don't want to get myself fired," he said. "Or worse."

"I give you my word. Just tell me."

He took another sip of his coffee and pondered, wondering if this was a trick, but he trusted her. Maybe he shouldn't, but he did.

"Last time I was here, you told me about your favorite book," he said.

"The Deahn book?"

"Yes, the one with the revenge theme," he said with emphasis. "Let me ask you a question. How do you think all the men feel working here or anywhere for that matter? Don't get me wrong," he added quickly. "I think you have made things better for men in the short time you've been here. Still, the changes you made are small, compared to what we need."

"And that is?" she asked.

"I truly believe that inside every man in this country is a desire for equality," he said, feeling liberated and afraid all at once. He had never said any of this aloud and certainly not to a woman. He hadn't talked about this with anyone but Brigg.

Shayla looked at him with compa.s.sionate eyes, the kind that he had never ever seen from a woman.

"This is hush, hush," the Queen said over the phone, excitement filling her voice. "Male infants will have micro chips injected under their skin while still in the hospital. It'll track them as they grow up. Women can point smart phones at men to read all about them at the Parties of Availability. The Tasers also benefit from this technology for immediate access to a man's age, medical records, but also the database of prior arrests, employment history etc...."

"I think you're making a huge mistake," Shayla said. She was haunted by Nathaniel DeLuca's honesty. He had finally opened up and his words echoed the sentiment of her father's: men feel the burden of injustices that start with the Parties of Availability, and segue into total servitude, especially once married. It wasn't a surprise, but it was difficult to hear because she knew her mother, and previous grandmothers before her, were responsible for the way men were treated. She knew it wasn't going to do any good to stand up to her mother, but she had to at least try.

"Some day, my dear Shayla, you will understand. I hope," the Queen said, quietly.

"Aren't you going a little overboard? I mean, what if men treated women this way?" Shayla asked in a purposely moderate voice. She knew it would enflame her mother, but she had to speak her mind. She thought of Nathaniel. She had already been on the path to pick up her father's legacy, but hearing Nathaniel's opinions made all her plans seem urgent.

She had even gone home the previous evening after hearing Nathaniel's candidness and pulled out her copy of Reminder of Truth, the gift from her father on his death bed. She hadn't read it in quite a while. If her mother ever found out she had it or where it came from ... Shayla couldn't imagine what she would do.

"Look at the rate of s.e.xual a.s.saults in America compared with other countries? We are LEADERS because we are forward thinking! Can't you see that?" The Queen asked with rhetorical venom.

"Okay, mother. You are right. You are always right." Shayla should have known better than to speak her mind to her mother. She almost reminded her mother of all the homeless Spots but knew it would fall on deaf ears as she would undoubtedly talk about how they were "comfortably sheltered." Yes, that's true, as long as one considered "comfort" personal s.p.a.ce the size of a refrigerator box with food that was akin to gruel from a d.i.c.kens novel.

"Do I have to remind you that your great grandmother was raped at age 14?"

"I know, and that was terrible, but not all men are rapists and evil the way you make them out to be," Shayla said.

"s.e.xual a.s.saults and violence have been eradicated from our society. The only reason you can walk through a city park after dark with ease and freedom is because our first Queen pa.s.sed mandatory castration laws. I'm proud of her and what she stood for."

"Are you proud of the fact that we're the oppressors? Just today I walked by a Taser who had a man strapped to a chair, in the middle of the park, with duct tape on his mouth...Isn't that a.s.sault?"

"We do that to keep the men safe. They crave that discipline, deep down," the Queen said, not letting Shayla finish. "At the core, men are uncontrollable animals. It's not their fault, you understand. We must help them, and that's what we have done. It's for their own good. It's for everyone's own good."

"That was a long time ago, mother. Things have changed," Shayla said, growing weary of this argument.

"They are dangerous. Studies and history have shown..."

"What about Daddy? Was he a monster, too? After all, he was a man!" Shayla yelled. This time it was her turn to bring her father up. She hated doing it, but had to prove her point. Shayla closed her eyes, feeling bad for using his memory this way, but she knew he would have understood.

"You sure you want to defy me, Shayla?" the Queen said, with a cunning stronghold in her voice. "I don't care how old you are. If you were here, I'd wash your mouth out with soap," her mother said before hanging up on her. Shayla was shaken more than she cared to admit, but her thoughts were interrupted with a knock on her office door.

Chapter 9.

Again, Nathaniel saw light underneath her office door and knocked. As she opened the door, he was, once again, lost in her aura.

"Come in," she said, smiling, but her voice was flat. Maybe he was wrong and his thought of her enjoying his company was purely in his head.

"You sure? I could just leave this if you're busy."

"Please," she said, stepping away from the door and sitting at her desk. He sat down and took the coffee from the bag and held it out to her. She gently took the cup, her quiet gaze resting on his. Usually, she asked how he was right off the bat, but she said nothing.

"Is something wrong?" he asked carefully.

"I can't really talk about it," she said.

"I didn't mean to pry..." he said.

"You're sweet," she said, her smile returning, along with a glimpse of the woman with whom he had become acquainted. Her warmth melted his heart.

"Well, if there is anything I can do..."

"You have already done something, Nathaniel DeLuca, and you don't even know it," she said with a lightness that made him feel something deep inside.

"I hope it's something good," he said, smiling back.

"For one thing, you bring me breakfast each morning, and well... I've been thinking about what we talked about the last time you were here."

"I was afraid I said too much," Nathaniel said.

"I'm glad you said what you did. You spoke the truth, and I know that was difficult, not because you're dishonest, but..." she said, her voice growing quiet. Nathaniel looked at her and the silence between them thickened.

"I'm afraid," he said. "All men are afraid."

"You don't have to be afraid of me..."

Shayla was silent and took the m.u.f.fin from the bag, setting it on her desk. She observed it, as though strategizing about how to approach it. Finally, she pulled a small piece from the edge, and popped it in her mouth.

"I believe you. I trust you," he said. "But I still wonder. What am I doing here?" he said.

"Do you know how things used to be? You probably don't even know about my great grandmother, the first Queen," Shayla said.

"I know of another era," he said, cautiously.

"Have you read about it?" she asked.

He felt like she was talking in code and it made him uncomfortable because he wasn't entirely sure.

"Maybe I should go," he said, blus.h.i.+ng.

"No," she said with the authoritative command he was accustomed to hearing when she spoke to supervisors on worksites.

Shayla rose from her seat and locked the door. She pulled a dark velvet bag from deep inside her purse and held it out to him. Nathaniel looked at her and she nodded.

He opened the bag and pulled out a book that he never thought he would see one time, let alone twice. Reminder of Truth.

"I've read it," he said quietly, his hands shaking as Shayla stood over him. She took the book and set it gently on the desk and engaged his eyes before silently leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips. Nathaniel couldn't hold back. The kiss was slow and gentle, and as she took his hands and guided them, he inhaled her sweet smell that he had been starving for since the moment the scent first tickled his nose. Each kiss made the flutter in his stomach reach down immediately making him hard. He walked down her neck with his lips and she let out a soft purr of pleasure that let him know each kiss was just right.

Shayla's hands touched the thick calluses on Nathaniel's hands, as if they were Braille and she was memorizing them. She looked into his eyes before feeling his biceps and instinctively straddled him unabashedly, feeling the tenseness of his muscles, making her unable to ignore the excitement between her legs. They both thought only with their bodies as they explored one another, gently but firmly. It was a curiosity that needed satisfying.

When there seemed to be no other place to go beyond the boundaries of their clothing, Nathaniel stopped. While his hardness wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against hers, he knew better than to a.s.sume. She touched his stiffness and smiled at him.

"What now?" he asked softly, hoping for an answer that would fulfill his s.e.xual excitement.

She silenced him with a kiss and began to take off her clothes.

He thought of himself as a gentleman caller who was courting his ladylove with m.u.f.fins and coffee, instead of flowers.

"I'm sorry, but I've got an early meeting," Shayla said with sadness as soon as he came in, squas.h.i.+ng the moment that had become the jewel of his routine over the last month.

Nathaniel's face showed obvious disappointment. Shayla grabbed him and gave a pa.s.sionate kiss, showing her preference for their morning's usual routine.

"I have to go, but I wish I could stay here," she whispered flirtatiously, as she fondled him.

"Don't get me all excited, then!" he joked, as he couldn't help but grow hard with her hand wrapped around him.

"You gotta go now, but give me my coffee and m.u.f.fin," she said, playfully grabbing the bag from him.

Nathaniel walked toward his post, waiting for his hard-on to soften. He resorted to the only sure way to get it to crawl back inside. He imagined Janice in one of her 's.e.xy' outfits. It was always a full-proof way to squelch his s.e.xual desire. He hated to do it but learned this trick in high school when his hormones controlled him completely a Think of something disgusting and your hard-on instantly disappears. Otherwise, there was no break from the s.e.xual tension.

As the morning dragged, Nathaniel focused on work, alongside Brigg, until their first break of the day.

Brigg took a long drink from his water bottle as they sat on the curb. "It's gotta be a hundred degrees. Thank G.o.d for this break."

"Don't you think we should thank Miss Shayla?" Nathaniel said.