Chapter 242: Patty XXVII

A/N: Heartbreak, anger, despair, angst, suicidal thoughts, sadness and finally acceptance and being happy that he had the best gawddamn career there could ever be, bon chance Monsieur Roy, I joked once that this story would still be continuing after you retired, I guess it was true. At any rate, be good at whatever you do, relax in your wife’s spa and be kind to doors, your family needs you. *runs from computer for one last sob*

 

 

 

Chapter 242: Patty XXVII—Anyone With a Heart

 

 

            “Oh Patrick you really don’t know the damage you inflict upon my poor body.”

            Patrick fastened his pants closed and grinned as he looked at Jacquelyn. The young woman was rearranging her clothes, slipping back into her water-pale blouse. She ran her fingers through her soft, brown hair and patted it. Cool as an iced dessert, he knew that the woman was possibly incapable of any emotional softness or warmth. She had a gaze like a snake. “Are you complaining eh?” Patrick said, “Because you can just go back to your fumbling husband.”

            Jacquelyn narrowed her eyes. “You needn’t be melodramatic,” she purred, “I like it.” She leaned forward on the couch and reached out her long arm, her fingers stopped his hands as he was buckling his belt, squeezed and pushed them away.

            “What,” he said, not asking, stating.

            Lowered lashes as modest as a girl, eyes glittering coldly as she glanced up at him. Her pink lip lifted in a half grin and he felt her cool fingers slide against his skin and she tugged him forward by the top of his pants. Patrick smiled and slipped his fingers in her soft hair when he felt her mouth open slightly against his belly, a quick tease of her tongue. “You’re insatiable,” he said. “You will wear out yes?”
            “Not for many years to come,” Jacquelyn whispered, he felt the hot breath of her voice against his skin, stirring him. Her nails teased the bare skin of his back and she pulled on him.

            Patrick laughed and pressed her into the couch, felt her warm body in flimsy clothing, the damp skin of her inner thighs sliding against his waist. He kissed her softly and ran his finger over her cheek. “I need to be leaving soon little one,” he whispered.

            Jacquelyn lifted an eyebrow. “Of course,” she said.

            He kissed her again and stood up from her body, he felt a twinge of pain in his hip as he leaned over to pick up his shirt.

            “I had a nice chat with your baby nanny earlier this morning,” Jacquelyn said. “I went over to visit with Debbie and alas she was gone. So I made company with Cecile. Are you happy?”

            Patrick sat on the arm of the couch as he buttoned his shirt. “Certainly,” he said. “I didn’t ask you to.”

            Jacquelyn crossed her legs, “I can do things spontaneously, and I am not a puppet that waits for commands my love.”

            Patrick held out his hands. What a useful girl. “Tell me.”

            Jacquelyn smiled with pretty little teeth. “You are brilliant,” she said. She then sighed. “Moving to rescue that little immigrant girl, spending too much money on her immigrant family.”

            “The little girl was born here,” Patrick replied, feeling somewhat irked. Now why would that be?  “She isn’t an immigrant.”

            Jacquelyn blinked. “What difference does that make? A rat is a rat yes?” she said. “At any rate, the gesture was an amazing charm, Cecile has eaten the entirety of it and it is blossoming in her heart. You could not have picked a better family, barely literate, no signs of felonious activity, impoverished and no suspiciously attractive females, in fact nothing attractive at all. They were practically a nest of mice. Cecile could not believe that you were helping them for no other reason than charity of soul; I wish I would have thought of something that clever. I’m surprised that I didn’t.”

            Patrick smiled and stood up, groaned some as he took a pained step towards her. She was smirking now, confident that he would pleasure her again. He pinched her chin in his fingers, made her wince as he tilted her face up. “You need a spark of a heart in order to think of a plan like that,” he whispered and he saw her eyes narrow, her cheeks blush, he kissed her softly and said into her ear. “And we both know you lack that.”      

            “Get away,” Jacquelyn hissed and he laughed, stepped away from her. Her thin, wiry body was pulsing with anger, her mouth was twisted, and he could imagine her as a snake, startled and hissing in defiance.

            “Do not fool yourself, eh?” Patrick said, feeling relaxed and lazy.

            Jacquelyn wrinkled her perfect nose and her scowl turned into a grin. “I don’t,” she said. “You are then saying that you have a heart, a small flicker of one? Patrick, darling, do not tell me that you have a weakness, I cannot know this!”

            Patrick felt his eyelid flutter, was annoyed by it. “I was not admitting a weakness.”

            “Of course you weren’t,” Jacquelyn said in a low voice and she blinked slowly. “I’ve fallen off my subject. Patrick here I am trying to help you.”

            “Out of the goodness of your heart?” Patrick said.

            Jacquelyn’s expression was delicious. “Amusement,” she said, “hardly the same thing.”

            Patrick nodded.

            “Cecile,” Jacquelyn said. “Could not stop speaking of your kind gesture. It confuses her. She is convinced you are prone to malicious evil, as she put it. But now she will soften her phrase to malicious mischief, as if you are a puckish boy in need of discipline, it makes you sound so much more charming. She thinks you are redeemable, that she would love to see you converted to much more holy activities.”

            “I know this much,” Patrick said.

            “I know you do,” Jacquelyn replied. “She also said that you do not know your own heart and are not aware of how good it can be. She blushes at the sound of your name, I asked her rather wickedly if you had kissed her. Patrick her pink little tongue poked over her lip before she told me that you hadn’t.”

            Patrick lifted his eyebrow, thought of the heat from that girl’s skin, and wondered if her green eyes would glow, if her mouth would frame a moan of pleasure identical to her mother’s. “I haven’t,” he said.

            Jacquelyn nodded. “And as for her love, Daniel. She is insecure about him. She thinks that perhaps she has taken a step towards losing his heart because of her stance on her virtues. It sounds as if they have had a spat recently. She is doubting his love for her Patrick.”

            Patrick liked the sound of that one, “It makes her vulnerable.”

            “It would make anyone with a heart, vulnerable, yes?” Jacquelyn said.

            Patrick narrowed her eyes. The girl was aiming at something. “Doubt is the strongest vulnerability for a heart. I do not doubt.”

            Jacquelyn blinked and nodded. “Of course you don’t,” she said. “Did you know I had lunch with Mimi the other day?”

            Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

            Jacquelyn nodded. “Yes. And do you know all she did was talk about Daniel, she absolutely glowed with it.”

            Patrick felt his cheeks grow warm. The girl was baiting him, he could tell. “And?”

            Jacquelyn shrugged. “And I thought you should know she’s holding herself back Patrick. You two are playing a game yes? You’re very active in winning your half of the prize but perhaps you should ask her why she is dawdling on hers. Daniel has not half the brain that Cecile does, I can tell, yet Mimi has not succeeded with him. Why do you think that is?”

            Patrick frowned. “That’s none of your business.”

            Jacquelyn smiled, “Of course it isn’t, forgive me.”