0 comments/ 10519 views/ 2 favorites Peyton Finds Her Place By: egmontgrigor2010 CHAPTER 1 The sky was dark with an approaching rain dump and Annalee Roach-Simpson's face reflected the mood of the weather as she went with jaw-set into the dayroom to confront the embarrassment of her family, her unmarried 30-year old daughter Peyton. "Hi mom." "We need to talk." "Shoot." "What on earth does that mean?" Peyton put down the lurid magazine, 'Males Bare It All'. Carefully she tucked it away from her mother's searching eyes. "What kind of magazine is that?" "Nothing." "I've not heard of a magazine of that name." "It's an economic review of revisionists' policies of the past decade." "God I wish I'd gone to university and then would know what you talk about. But that's diverting. You'd fare much better reading true romance magazines." God had her mom seen the magazine cover? "Um for what purpose?" "To teach you the things you need to know about engaging in a romantic relationship. How many sexual relationships have you had: twenty?" "Two." Her mom frowned but then smiled, "What daily?" "In my brief venture into sexual relationships only two men have burrowed into my tunnel of love although not at the same time of course." "Your body must be screaming for it. How long did those relationships last?" "Greg had his way with me for three years and after a gap Athol flitted between me and his wife for five years and since his wife broke up our subversive behavior, no guy has been near me for more than a year." "Athol our family accountant?" "Yes were you not aware he is carnally oriented?" "No," Annalee said with interest and then catching herself said of course not. That was not the purpose of Mr Mann's relationship with the family. "Your father has asked me to talk to you about you being an embarrassment to this family. Your two older sisters have been married for several years and your younger brother has been married for two years. We wish you to find a suitable suitor and lead him to the altar and then depart from this house. Oh I don't want this to sound too harsh. You are not under extreme pressure." "Well okay mother. Give me six months. If I haven't found a guy by then I will still leave this house." A discussion followed and ended with Annalee agreeing to give her daughter $5000 in addition to her weekly allowance to buy male-appealing clothing. When her mother left the room Peyton began calling her friends, most of whom were married, to find out how to meet a suitable suitor. The suggestions included: Attend university debates, go to clubs after midnight, get involved in Internet dating, join a Swingers Club as a volunteer for threesomes, get a job and go after the boss's son, start going to church, wear a short skirt and sit in hotel lobbies and prey on guys shopping alone in supermarkets. Reviewing that list Peyton thought she hadn't realized how shallow most of her friends were. She tossed up whether to go to her room and use her dildo while reading her new magazine or go down to her favorite river café for coffee. Coffee won. She had no idea why. Jan the owner, a friend of her mother's, saw Peyton approaching and was at the entrance to greet her. "Hi darling." "Hi Jan," Peyton said as they kissed. How are you faring after your break-up?" "It's pretty depressing really," Jan sighed. "I haven't met anyone who looks as if he could rev my engine." "Have you tried attending debates at the university or going to church or preying on guys shopping alone in supermarkets?" "Omigod what wonderful ideas," Jan gasped. "I'll try all three immediately. Peggy is making your coffee. Um darling, could you bring me up to speed. Do couples these day still do it on the first date?" "There appear to be two options in force from what I can make out. Some females refuse to open their legs before at least the third date while hot bitches go the other way and insist being screwed before they will consider dating. I recommend you be flexible and offer only token resistance to indicate you are not exactly a slut." "Oh darling thanks for such wonderful advice and support." "It's a pleasure. I also suggest you have condoms with you at all times." Jan had another thought. "Um just one more thing. If a guy has had a vasectomy can he still do it?" "I think so because as far as I know the surgeon only cuts his nuts out, leaving the penis at the same length." Both women looked rather shaken. Peggy arrived with coffee when Jan left. "That guy over there is an Australian tourist and asked would I introduce you." "Okay wheel him over." "But he is quite capable of walking." "Oh right," Peyton sighed, wondering if her humor was really that lousy or was Peggy just thick. "Miss Peyton Roach-Simpson, this is Mr Hugo Hatton. Please sit Mr Hatton." Peyton eyed the blond guy. "I was told if I wanted to pick up a guy I should wear a short skirt and sit in a hotel lobby. Would you think that would work for me Mr Hatton?" "Oh please call me Hugo. I think it could prove to be a huge waste of time." "Damn." "Don't despair. I'm engaging in the reverse role model and applying the technique of using a third party to make the introduction and I now must attempt to impress you enough to allow me to date you." "Well it seems to be working Hugo. Please call me Peyton." "Oh we are making good progress. I come from Australia. Do you know where Australia is?" "I believe it lies just off New Zealand." Hugo sighed and said that answer disappointed him. He'd almost wished she'd been like most Americans and replied she hadn't a clue. Still sounding displeased with Peyton's reply, he asserted Australia was many times larger than New Zealand. "And that is supposed to make Australia the more significant country?" Apparently Hugo had never been challenge that way and he looked confused. "Would you like to have sex?" Peyton asked candidly. Hugo's eyes became glazed. "What?" "Oh I apologize. Obviously my body has no appeal to you." "Your body?" he said, the now unglazed eyes rolling over the delicious curves with the speed of an Aussie surfer when taking the drop. Hugo following Peyton like a puppy into the summerhouse in her parent's garden where she had a day bed. The room was set up as her studio where she carried out contract editing of manuscripts for book publishers. "Gosh you read a lot." "Yes," she said, realizing Hugo possibly had no idea what manuscripts were. But did it matter? She had him here and so it would be a waste not to use him. She said firmly, "Take your clothes off." He was stripped before she was out of her jeans. Well Hugo was good at something. Peyton noted the huge balls. "Obliviously you haven't had a vasectomy." Hugo's magnificent all-over suntan turned sickly white. "Oh god, don't mention that word." "Sorry I meant it in jest." That cursory apology and explanation returned Hugo's normal coloring. "I've been told young American women won't do it without their mom's approval. You best call your mom to see if she approves." "That's information is nonsense, who made that claim?" "A big fat woman immigration officer at the airport." Peyton grinned and hurriedly finished removing everything she was wearing. "God you are worth fucking," Hugo said leering. "Well in that case it will cost you a hundred bucks." It was meant to be a joke. She watched amazed as he went to his jeans and pulled a hundred off his billfold and then heard him say she was severely under-charging. Peyton took the money hoping it would teach Hugo not to behave so stupidly. [Two days later she bought a pair of fashionable high-heel sandals she decided to name her Hugo sandals. None of her girlfriends admiring the purchase had ever heard of the Hugo brand.] Hugo caught her with her pants down, so to speak. He moved in, grabbed a breast in a slightly painful squeeze and while that diverted her shoved his length up her. Gasping Peyton backed over to the bed, Hugo attempting to pump as they went. "Condom?" she whimpered. Hugo appeared deaf. He left as soon as they finished, leaving Peyton astonished that so much semen could come from one guy from one fuck. If it hadn't been for Hugo's intellectual deficiency, his obvious experience in paying for sex and his partial deafness, she may have asked him to marry her. After a sleep Peyton padded over to help her mom get dinner. Annalee said, "You look fucked darling. Had a tough afternoon editing a revisionist's diatribe?" Peyton though those were smart comments from her shopping mall savvy mom. In following days Peyton spent her mom's clothing donation and some of her own money. Besides clothes, shoes and a most appealing pair of sandals, she had her legs waxed and her pubic hair professionally trimmed and freshly cleared hair around the perimeter inhibited from regrowth with epilight treatment. She had her blonde hair highlighted and eyebrows shaped and received training on how to improve her make-up techniques. When her girlfriends viewed the finished result half of them said they'd like to date her and her mom said the same thing, Peyton was quite sure some of them were not jesting and that would include her mom. At the lingerie shop, the visiting consultant Dr John Reynolds personally fitted her with the design and size of bra he recommended and the swine seduced her in the dressing room but magnanimously said, "No charge." Initially Peyton thought he meant for the sex but when she went to pay for the six bras the counter clerk smiled and said "no charge ma'am." Edward the male hairdresser had come on strongly and he was so good with her hair that Peyton almost relented, suspecting he was gay. She felt it necessary to politely refuse to go to the back room with him when he confessed he only wished to lick her butt. She pretended to be disgusted and thought what a creep but what a magnificent hairdresser. Peyton was knowledgeable enough to know rejecting Edward's pitch was one of those dilemmas women face. Well it was her best cut and shape ever and she decided to continue to tolerate the creep's hands over her in future to allow him to maintain his creation with her hair but she would safely truss up in her tightest jeans. Tony the Italian gardener expressed fulsome praise about how magnificent Miss Peyton now looked. Bolstered with such admiration, and coming from a totally independent source, Miss Peyton pulled the astonished 19-year old into the summer house and gave him what she believed would be his first real fuck but emphasized there would be no repeats. Tony thanked her and said his father could be interested in Miss Peyton but Miss Peyton politely said no way. Peyton had to buy paperweights to hold down the manuscripts and her notations because her mom kept opening all the doors and windows saying the summerhouse smelt like a whorehouse. Peyton wisely didn't ask her mom how did she know the smell of a whorehouse. In the past month she'd brought sixteen different guys home to access their suitability for matrimony. Two had appeared to pass all assessments but when Peyton proposed to them the bastards both sheepishly admitted having lied to her when claiming they were single and unattached. That reminded Peyton what her mom and two of her aunts often said, that men would do almost anything to deceive a woman for sex. With all her contracts completed, Peyton closed down the summerhouse and, as planned some months earlier, went to England with her parents for the summer. Her father had hired a summerhouse in southern England at a place the owners called 'The Lakes' but to the disappointment of the Americans the three lakes were three small ponds belonging to the neighboring golf club. That first night Annalee and Hamish got wasted on French wine. Peyton found them asleep on the dinning table, obviously halfway through sex because they were still locked in position. God parents could be so delinquent. Next morning they thanked Peyton for putting them both to bed and for clearing away. The property owner's wife arrived unannounced and invited Annalee to 'go up to London' shopping with her and Annalee thought this was shaping up as her best vacation ever. Then the woman's husband called around to invite Hamish to go shooting at real lakes but when Hamish saw the quality of the French maid who'd arrived to do daily house-keeping, He was indecisive until his daughter whispered, "Pussy will keep daddy, go and blast poor water-fowl to smithereens." Peyton spoke to the young female peasant in her early twenties in halting French and was astounded to learn Claudette was studying for her doctorate in education in England. "Oh damn how do you say this in French," Peyton fumed and Claudette said in perfect English, "Speaking to me in English is okay Peyton. My mother is English and for the past five years all my education has been here in England." Peyton hugged the younger woman in delight and Claudette said in surprise, "I thought you would look down on me being a servant?" "Why? I worked in restaurants when I was at college because although my parents are wealthy they said if other students had to work to earn money to live on then so should I. Basically I think people who work hard for their money at any level are good people." Claudette agreed. "I don't really need the money but I live with Mr and Mrs Harrison who own this property. Mrs Harrison is my aunt, my mother's sister and because reliable help is hard to find around here my aunt engaged me. She insisted nothing must go wrong with your stay because with your guys being Americans she had charged double the usual rental." They chatted as Claudette worked and Peyton helped make the beds. The sheets and pillowcases would be changed daily because Mrs Harrison believed Americans were fastidious about cleanliness because she'd learnt that from watching American films. Peyton laughed and Claudette giggled and said, "I think so too. It's like the English believing all French women are superb cooks. Oh yeah?" They laughed and Claudette invited Peyton to meet her at the village pub that night where they would eat and drink and meet men. "You like men huh?" "Yes and men like me," Peyton said confidently. The next day Mrs Harrison invited Peyton to go to golf with her. "Your mother told me you played college golf." "Yes and I would love to accept your invitation." "Well I have lined up two of my cronies and booked. What is your golf handicap?" "Five. I'm not all that good." Mrs Harrison managed to close her mouth and then invited Peyton to call her Claire. Peyton had a great time despite the other three women being on handicaps in the high twenties. She saw birds and small wild animals she'd never seen before and rather than ride in motorized carts the women pulled trolleys loaded with their clubs, additional clothing, drinks and food. Peyton selected a half set of hire clubs and carried the bag over her shoulder. The three women all spoke in slightly different accents but they were jolly and fun to play with, talking about such things as the dirty habits of men, as if women didn't have any, what a mess the Government was making of the country, the invasion of foreign immigrants, the Queen and the stupidity of Prince Charles. One of the women, every time she'd play a poor shot, and that was quite frequent, would let her club drop to the ground and snarl "Bugger." The expression on her face was hilarious. There was nothing pretentious about them despite two of them being 'filthy rich" according to Claire who confided to Peyton that the woman who kept swearing and dropping her club, Pam Sharplin, was the daughter of an Earl. She was entitled to be called Lady Pamela but insisted being called plain Pam. Peyton was left wondering about how rich was filthy rich but thought it best not to ask. They drank several gins in the clubhouse after the game. On the way home with Claire weaving the Range Rover along the narrow road rather unsteadily she asked: "Do you indulge in female sex?" "No sorry but I don't mind you asking. Um if you have a few drinks with my mother I suggest you ask her that same thing casually. I have suspicions about my mom." Claire gushed, "Oh thank you darling. I could pair you up with some young men but the problem with males today is one doesn't know which ones are straight and which ones are gay. I think you should try to become friendly with Claudette and she'll put you..." "Already accomplished. I'm going to the pub with Claudette this evening. God she's so lovely." "Well yes and thank you for saying that. Claudette is my pride and joy. She's turned out better than my three children." Peyton arrived home and said she'd had a lovely time at golf and had played well. What she didn't say was she'd returned a record low score by a woman on the local course, beating the previous best by three strokes. She gushed to her mom, "My partner was Mrs Pam Sharplin. She played a bit roughly be we beat our two opponents." Peyton said breathlessly, ""Mom Pam is the daughter of an Earl and is entitled to be called Lady Pamela." "Omigod darling, you have been rubbing shoulders with royalty." "I think the sub-structure is called the peerage mother and Pam would be right down on the list." An hour later the house phone went and Annalee came to Peyton with the phone, looking ashen faced. "Darling the woman said she's Pam Sharplin and played golf with you this afternoon." Peyton returned the house phone to her mother who looked almost overcome. "Oh Pam has invited us over to the manor house tomorrow for Sunday lunch. What's a manor house?" "I have no idea. We must ask Claire. This is very confusing because based on our understanding of language, the English are not altogether English are they?" * * * When the family returned home from their fabulous summer in England, Peyton realized her mom was in love with Claire. God their parting at the airport had been so embarrassing, both screaming they would reunite in another life, whatever that meant. Peyton also knew she had only a month to go before was had to leave the family home. The next day she sat in a hotel foyer wearing her shortest skirt and two hours later suffered the humiliation of being ejected by security guys as a suspected hooker after she'd been unable to produce her room number. The next evening she attended the book launch of an anticipated highly controversial book 'Why You Are Failing to Control Your Children'. The author, Dr Raymond Upton, a prominent local psychologist, had almost rewritten his original manuscript accepting streams of advice from Peyton, his manuscript editor. "This highly motivational book is likely to become a handbook for parents throughout America," said the chairman of the publishing company at the pre-launch cocktail party for book reviewers, who received their advance copies. Peyton and other people from the publishing house who'd worked on the publication were also invited to make up numbers to impress the author. Author Upton, floating on cloud nine because the preview panel had been so bullish with its comments, hugged and kissed Peyton lavishly, thanking her profusely. "Please Peyton, allow me to introduce my wife Marguerite, who is a consulting psychologist. She immigrated as a young woman from France." "Yes you told me, from Calais I think." Peyton greeted Marguerite in French that was vastly improved following her month-long contact in England with Claudette and particularly from spending two weekends with Claudette's family when only French had been spoken. Marguerite was delighted with the greeting and thanked Peyton for being so patient and being so amazing with her ability to bring her normally very stubborn husband from Wisconsin to heel. Peyton Finds Her Place "I feel this is a great book even if it doesn't sell as well as we anticipate," Peyton said. "I believe it is a social crutch for confused parents and parents who cannot cope with their teenagers. The academic excellence of this publication is worthy of recognition from Raymond's academic peers." "Oh Peyton, how magnificent you are. Please meet my family. This is my daughter, Adele. My son Rodell, where is my son?" "Here mother. Don't allow your Gallic passion to overrun your ability to scan the room for the whereabouts of your only and favorite son." "Hi Adele, I'm Peyton Roach-Simpson. Hi Rodell," Peyton added, her knees turning weak as she looked at the tall, dark and wiry son of perhaps thirty. She felt her pussy pulsating, or imagined she did. "Oh here you are," Rodell said. "I was looking around this packed room for the woman I felt the need to meet and here you are talking to my parents." "I...," Peyton said, and all system appeared to shut down. "Rodell," said his mother. "Back off. You are crowding this young woman." "It's f-fine Mrs Upton. T-there are so many people in here. The air is depleting." "Bullshit," said Rodell. "Rodell," said his mother." Take Peyton out immediately into the fresh air." As Rodell pushed Peyton through the mass he asked, "Are you pregnant?" and caught Peyton as she fell. Peyton's eyes opened and she found herself on Rodell's knees. They were on a bench seat outside. "No." He smiled and asked what was no? She said she was answering his question was she pregnant. Aware there had been a delay because she'd fainted he smiled and asked was she on conception protection and she said yes. "It's nice being on your bony knees," she smiled. He kissed her. She pulled his head down and they were soon big into French kissing. She pulled down her panties and he sunk into her and was soon grunting. He was fine but only okay and Peyton wanted someone who was better than just okay. When he stood up she jumped up high into his arms and he pushed back into her and they were away again, she confirming he was okay although rather good at doing it standing up. Peyton returned him to his mother who looked at her son who looked a wreck and looked at Peyton who looked very much in top shape his mom marveled, "Omigod." Peyton excused herself and left to avoid the embarrassment of possibly receiving an indecent proposition from Rodell's mom. Regrettably, after another dozen young men had passed through Peyton's arms she realized she had failed in her quest to become settled with a guy. The males had been less than appealing or they'd just wanted a woman, perhaps any woman, to fuck. It had been such a waste of time although it most cases the sex had been okay. She packed to leave home thanked her mom for being so kind when she suggested Peyton could have a three-month extension. "No mom, dad would have kittens if he learned you'd made such an offer. You'll remain happy without me being around when you are doing what you like doing with your girlfriends." "Omigod, you know?" "Yes. How long has it been going on?" "I've preferred women for most of my adult life and your father doesn't mind because he says he's never been really interested in having sex. He prefers reading or going to work." "Oh mom what a bore for you. I hope you catch up with some very exiting women." CHAPTER 2 Peyton Roach-Simpson's New York arrival from Boston was inauspicious because she didn't know anyone in arguably America's greatest city but Peyton knew people who thought that hadn't been to Burlington, Vermont, where her maternal grandparents lived. Because she didn't know anyone she had no one to meet her and the taxi driver didn't attempt to rip her off and ignored her because he didn't appear to speak English. The room in a shared apartment she'd secured off the Internet was better than she'd expected and her two female flatmates who were specialist nurses were from Ireland and Spain and their English was almost incomprehensible at first to the new arrival. But they got by and communication improved over time. "We are lovers," Bronte said, clasping a dainty arm around the waist of the huge-breasted Spanish woman Adora." "That's all right by me," Peyton smiled. "So you wish to join us?" said Adora. It took Peyton a few minutes to sort that one out. During that discussion she had to cope with Adora saying if Peyton wanted men she would find her some and asked what size penis did Peyton prefer. Peyton ended up thinking being in New York certainly was a step up from living in Boston and perhaps no citizen in Burlington, Vermont had ever been asked about his or her penis size preference. Next day she went to a large publishing house with a letter of introduction but the PR manager said they had no vacancies for manuscript editors. "But I need a job." "Don't we all darling?" the woman said, glancing furtively at Peyton's body. Well yes, Peyton thought, perhaps she would have to become a hooker for gay women. But the woman offered something. "Darling why don't you try this back street publisher. She scribbled out an address. "You mean an outfit that publishes porn?" "No dear. They this publisher I'm recommending is small and not particularly successful so cannot afford to locate in premium locations like this." Peyton took the elevator to the street thirty-seven floors down and wondered what was premium about locating in an impersonal, drab monolith like that building. She wondered what it would be like having sex with New York women and would they pay well. She stood outside a warehouse conversion that looked partly abandoned. There was no elevator and she walked up to the third to the offices of Geoff Ryan Publishing and the woman behind the reception desk who looked to be 106 said, "What do you want? I'm the cleaner filling in for Bess and you'll have to speak up because I'm deaf." "Mr Ryan please." "Who are you?" "Peyton." "Just a moment. She called into a phone, "Mr Ryan, Peyton is here to see you." She frowned and said to Mr Ryan, "How would I know Peyton who? Come out and get her." Oh god, Peyton giggled silently, thinking she was in Mickey Mouse Land. A guy her age came through the doorway frowning, pulling his hand away from scratching his nuts. He looked at Peyton's tits and smiled, looked at her face and his smile broadened. ""Hi Peyton." "Hi Geoff." "So you two do know each other," said the cleaner/receptionist. "You could have said so." Geoff followed Peyton into his office, walking so close to her that she expected to feel his fingers sink into his butt any moment. She stopped abruptly and he slammed into her and grabbed under her breasts to stop her falling. She grinned, aware he was very good looking. "Oh I do apologize," he said. "It was my fault. I stopped to be told where to sit." "Oh." "Your arm." "Oh," he said, releasing her. "I haven't enjoyed a cuddle like that for quite sometime," Peyton said airily, taking the chair he indicated. "I assure you I'm not..." "Hush, I said I enjoyed it," Peyton said, surprised at her forwardness. Well she really did want a job. "Well Peyton..." "I'm Peyton Roach-Simpson, just arrived from Boston to settle. I'm twenty-nine with a masters in English Lit, have never married and in my short working life have worked in literature, preliminary editing of manuscripts actually. I'm here to work for you if you are interested and here's a letter of introduction from my immediate-past publisher." "Well I never." "Never what?" "I'd take you for a struggling writer wishing to become published." "No if I were a writer I'd go to one of the international publishing houses." Geoff looked quite hurt and she smiled at him and he said coffee. That told Peyton she was in with a chance. She nodded and he made the call for coffee. Peyton knew it was up to her to make the breakthrough. "What are your interests Geoff?" He looked at her breasts and she smiled and he said, "Anything to do with the fine arts, mainstream films, eating out and my dad and I jointly own a keelboat and a passion is golf, er social golf." "Golf?" His eyes flickered and Peyton thought touchdown. "Do you play golf?" "Now and then these days but at college I was one of the top females." "Really?" "Yes and I like art galleries but generally not museum, sex photography, movies, eating out." God she'd said sex and she looked at Geoff who appeared confused about whether he'd actually heard her say that. "Um did you just say sex?" Christ he was brave to ask her straight out like that. "Oh god. Well if you heard me say that I must have said that. What about you?" "What about me?" "You didn't name sex as one of your top interests." "Um people don't usually...." "Are you evading answering Geoff?" He squirmed and she though well that's cancels out the touchdown. "Moving on," he said ominously. She eyed his overflowing desk. "Do you personally review all edited manuscripts?" "Yes." "Wouldn't you prefer to hand over that responsibility to someone?" He almost scowled. "For instance you?" "Yes now that you've mentioned it. Perhaps a two-month trial?" He rubbed his chin and she thought touchdown. He looked almost forty. "Are you married?" "Divorced." "Is there someone new?" "Not yet. Look I don't think..." "Then it would be quite appropriate you asking me for a date if I were your personal assistant." His eyes appeared to glaze. He shook his head and said could they please keep their discussion at a business level. He grumped, "Let's talk." "Certainly Geoff. Shoot." Two hours later he invited Peyton to lunch with his father, who was also Geoff and founder of the company and had sold a half share of his company to his son. Geoff Snr looked at Peyton thoroughly but dispassionately, rather like looking at the breeding lines of a horse, she thought. Their drinks arrived and he asked Peyton questions about horse racing, investment markets, the publishing markets, authors and top selling books, her favorite choices at restaurants, cars, and music and theatre. In the meantime young Geoff just listened respectfully his father and to Peyton answering the questions. When he appeared finished she said, "That was a thorough testing of my social suitability Mr Ryan and I guess my CV and references told you what you might want to know of I'm to become a personal assistant with editing skills to your son. You might also care to hear that I played women's golf at top level when I was at college when I played on a 5-handicap, and in Boston when a teenager I was regional junior schoolgirl water-ski runner-up champion one year and champion the following year and I love hiking, ski well and play a reasonable game of tennis." "You are an impressive young lady. My son is free to hire you. Not let's get back to yachting. Geoff and I co-own a Beneteau 46 that was purchased new." "Oh a sleek cruiser. Do you have the two aft cabin option or did you go for the 3-cabin layout?" "The twin. My thinking is the fewer people you take away on a boat the more comfortable it is." "That's good thinking. We have a friend who has the same yacht. They are beautifully fitted out and the inventory is awesome. I really like how the design allows considerable natural light penetration into the saloon." "Young lady it's great hearing a young woman speak knowledgeably about yachts. You must come out with us on a Sunday for a family sail." "I'd like that Mr Ryan." As Geoff junior and Peyton were walking back to the office she said, "Well am I hired?" "I don't know. Dad and I were thinking we'd have to get another senior editor to handle our increase in business and to ease the workload on me but you have presented us with a difference option. I need to talk to him." The signals were there. She was not required as his assistant. "My apartment is not far from here. Would you like to have a drink there and talk?" Peyton sighed and thought not way would she have sex with a man who was under the thumb of his father like this. He looked promising but deep down was a wet. "Some other time Geoff. I have to be somewhere else in thirty minutes," she lied. "You have my number. I must be off." He attempted to kiss her on the lips but she turned away and his lips landed on her cheek. "I'll work on dad, I promise. I'll call you in a few hours." She waited twenty-four hours with her cell phone left on and received no call. "Fucking men," she swore and that evening hearing her two flatmates screaming in bed she grinned and thought, fucking over-sexed women. Peyton secured work first as a waitress and then as a floor assistant in a bookshop and after a month at this low paid and menial work felt New York was grinding her down. "Head west you stupid bitch, you ought to have never left Boston," she wept, sitting on a seat in a tiny park. A passing woman came back and handed Peyton a ten dollars, smiled and continued on her way. Peyton was horrified and really burst into tears. Next morning when the girls had left the apartment and Peyton aware she still was in advance with rent by three weeks, packed her bags and left a note saying she was quitting New York and hoped the girls found a replacement for her very soon. At the train station she purchased a ticket that she thought would get her about eight hours away from New York, scene of her failure to relocate but she guessed over the years huge numbers of other people had shared that experience. * * * With a population of 38,000 in the middle of practically nowhere, Peyton thought Benyon City could be a fitting place in which a non-descript person like her could disappear. She took a bed in a rooming house and cried herself to sleep. In the morning the wind was howling, stirring up the dust. Peyton sighed and went back to bed and slept till mid-afternoon. She walked down Main Street where people were sweeping away the last signs of dust and some of them smiled at her while guys hurrying about their business leered at her and well-dressed women looked at her searchingly as if thinking she was far too pretty and well-dressed to be in this city. Peyton knew her mind had manufactured that thought but nevertheless she felt her spirit lift. She went into a pizza parlor for pizza and coffee and noticed the sign, 'Staff Wanted' but thought she had money and the time to aim higher. Peyton picked up a well-thumbed copy of the Benyon Bugle from an adjoining copy to search for job opportunities. In the classified section a double column box, one of several, leapt out at her. The Benyon Bugle was seeking a sub-editor to head its team of three sub-editors. Peyton felt she would be in with a chance, having worked as deputy-editor of her college's student newspaper for two years, serving the last six months as acting editor after the editor was expelled from college for drug dealing. The city was a dump, the newspaper was dull and crappy and what journalists of note would want to settle in a dustbowl in the fall? The editor was in his early thirties, around her age. She hoped he wasn't under the thumb of his father but during the interview learned his widowed mother owned the newspaper. Well that could mean he was under her fist. Dave Finch said she had no newspaper experience and Peyton said hotly what about her college newspaper experienced and he just smiled, making her want to throttle that smile from his face. "What about my editing experience from working six years on book manuscripts?" "That was preliminary editing." "Where all the graft is done," she said icily and withdrew her claws when she saw him nod thoughtfully. "Are you running away from something?" "My need to get out of the rut of living and working from home. I tried New York but was overwhelmed." He nodded sympathetically and he said he had a similar problem with his mother until she decided to relocate in Florida. Peyton smiled sympathetically and thought he'd noted that. "What do you think of our newspaper?" "The content is good but the overall appearance is a bit crappy." Dave's jaw lifted but he said, "That's a considered observation." "My thinking is your staff are probably under-developed and you are spending time training them and perhaps doing some of the reporting yourself or at least re-rewriting and filling in pieces. That effort diverts you from the things editors should be focused on. I should know because on our student newspaper that's what my editor and I had to do." "You're hired." "What? You haven't interviewed me in depth yet and there has been no discussion about terms and conditions although I concede you'll be aware of that." "Yep and I cringe knowing every morning when our subscribers pick up their newspapers some of them will be thinking what's in this pile of crap this morning? You need a job and I need a chief sub-editor. I need someone on my team who is noticeable intelligence, unafraid and has vision." "I have vision?" Peyton asked in surprise. "I believe so. I honestly believe I saw you thinking you could shape the Bugle into a modern-looking newspaper." "Well I had been thinking that." "See and you think you don't have vision? I have people on this newspaper who are interested in pay day and nothing much else. They know what they did today and probably have some recall about what they did yesterday but they don't care a fuck about... oh god, sorry." "Carry on. The word fuck is in my vocabulary." He smiled apologetically and Peyton thought what a nice man. "Well they don't care about what they will be doing tomorrow because they simply have never been taught to think that way." "I suggest this city is rather isolated and that could have a bearing on local attitudes." "What? Oh yes, good thinking. So are you accepting?" "Yes." "Then let's get the paperwork done. Where are you staying?" "Sunrise Rooming House." "Good god, that dump. I'll call my aunt. She let's out rooms because she enjoys extra company. Uncle Ralph doesn't talk much and disappears out to help on the ranch he sold to his son." "I'll live with you is that's a possibility." That hugely embarrassed Dave who muttered he was living with a partner at present. Peyton moved quickly. "Actually I mean to rent a room, not to sleep with you." He looked even more embarrassed. She giggled and finally he grinned and said she was like a breath of fresh air. Dave's Aunt Alice just adored Peyton from the moment she met her and gushed, "Just call me Aunt Alice like Dave does. Oh darling you are the spitting image of the daughter I never had." That told Peyton life would never be dull around Aunt Alice and privacy would be an unknown concept to the woman. What a reversal from her feeling of overwhelming anonymity when in New York! "Omigod, just look at your hair and makeup. Can you teach me how to use make-up like you do and how to do my hair properly?" "I believe I could." "But Peyton would need a good model." "Back you go to your bland newspaper young man," said his aunt, eyes narrowing. Peyton had the feeling the well-built although elderly woman could throw a huge punch. Dave smiled and left for the office. As they watched him drive off Aunt Alice said, "Dave would have been just right for your darling but unfortunately his preference is not for women." "But a woman lives with him," Peyton said a little bewildered. "He lives with sweet-looking guy who is an engineer at City Hall." "You mean a male?" "Yes and that's what guys usually are. Those two are as gay as bull yearlings darling." Peyton sighed and thought what a screwed up world she lived in. Peyton Finds Her Place "Oh Peyton, you looked disappointed. Were you thinking you might be on to a good thing with my nephew?" Peyton bit her lip and nodded. "Then look elsewhere. I'm sure he's a lost cause." Unpacking the first of her two bags in her bedroom, Peyton was beginning to calm and decided she would go in to the newspaper tomorrow and begin her new job. It was churlish to consider leaving the city simply because her boss preferred to go to bed with someone other than her. God who did she think she was? After two hours in the job next morning Peyton was ready to believe the news editor, who was her immediate boss, appeared dedicated but probable lacked real talent and her two sub-editors were in a similar mould. She wondered what they thought about her. By the end of the day she'd perceived the older woman Gloria had a clear concept of her own shortcomings and pulled down her dictionary/thesaurus on her computer frequently and didn't hesitate to ask if she thought she required a second opinion. Gloria worked rapidly and that was a big plus and looked around for work when the files sent through to her computer were all completed. The 23-year old Della was a journalism graduate and had failed to impress as a reporter after a three-month trial at another newspaper and had arrived two months ago in reply to an advertisement inviting applications for the position of junior sub-editor. Initially Peyton thought Della would have to be replaced but then found that being the daughter of ranchers, Della was super-efficient working on stories that would have left Peyton helpless through lack of knowledge. These included articles about livestock diseases, regional water supply test results, farm production stats, stock auction prices and Della also appeared to know everything about the stock market and investment generally. By the end of the day Peyton knew she had a bright young journalist working for her who'd been taught heavily about reporting and only lightly about editing so scheduled to tutor Della in the last thirty minutes of Della's working day. As she was leaving after the second-day of tuition, Della asked if Peyton wished to join her across the street at the bar frequented by newspaper people, attorneys and people engaged in public relations and education. "Oh the clear thinker's bar," she said and Della said actually the establishment was known unofficially as the Mule Bar. "You'll know what a mule is?" "A backless shoe or a small mechanical machines that hauls freight or whatever short distances or the sterile offspring of a male donkey and a female horse." Della laughed and said, "The previous owner was busted by the police and jailed for his other business not connected with liquor. Mule is slang for a drug courier." "Omigod," Della giggled and here I was thinking this was rather a dull city." They had their drinks and were looking for seats as a table when an older guy in an expensive suit kissed Della and ruffled her hair and looking at Peyton asked, "Who's the babe?" "Let me go. She's my boss so watch your mouth and manners. Peyton this is my uncouth brother Finn Roberts who kids himself that he's an attorney." "Finn, nice name." "Hi Peyton, quite a famous name in America. Are you new in town?" "Why because you haven't seen me before?" "Yes and how perceptive of you. Do you think I must be new in town because you haven't seen me before?" "You're weird. Let's find a table Della." "Peyton it would be a real pleasure to me if you and Della will sit with Mike and me." "What a lovely invitation. Thank you. I'll sit with you and Mike but can't presume to speak for Della." Della said, "She obviously doesn't take to smart asses Finn. You just managed to save yourself before the bell. Yes we'll sit with you guys." Mike was a young doctor and Peyton really fancied him. But half an hour later he looked at his watch and said he must hurry home to his new bride because she was still keen to see home arrive home to pour her a pre-dinner drink. A few minutes later a young guy joined them and kissed Della very affectionately and stood with his arm around his waist as Della introduced him to Peyton as Gene. "Well we are off to night classes," Della said. "Gene is taking computer studies and I'm studying public relations because that option wasn't offered at college. Ask Peyton to dinner Finn. Bye. Peyton smiled. "I believe Della set this up." "Yeah smart thinking. She called me and said she wanted to meet me here but declined to say why." "May I decline the invitation that hasn't be given?" "Certainly not." "Excuse me?" "I find most women boring but you could be different. You sized me up in an instant and virtually told me to get stuffed and began walking away from me." "Well I've not had much success with men recently." "Neither have I." "Are you gay?" "What? Christ no... oh I see how that reply must have confused you. I meant neither have I had much joy with women lately." "Are we two misfits?" Finn looked at her carefully, taking in her relaxed smile. "I almost rejected that tag with the speed of a scalded cat. Yes in terms of dating we must be out on a limb a bit from our declared positions." "I've begun to worry about my lack of success with the opposite sex and same-sex associations at that level leaves me cold." "Please allow me to get you another wine and then I wish to hear all." "Thank you, that's so kind." Finn looked at Peyton thoughtfully and then said, "May I say something personal?" "That I have great tits?" His eyes flicked down at them and back to hold her gaze again. "I was about to say you have a lovely face." "Sorry, please allow me to blush for being so wrong." "No it's fine. I guess a number of guys have mentioned the appeal of your breasts?" "Yes it's not unusual. You are now making a favorable impression." He grinned. Hold this table against interlopers with your life." She smiled and saluted, "Yes sir." He returned and Peyton began by saying she was from Boston and talked about the guys in her life who'd disappointed her. Finn, who'd listened very attentively and made sympathetic comments, then related a similar tale including two fiancées who'd jilted him. When he finished she said, "Well for both of us I guess that's life." "Indeed. I think part of my problem is I tended to treat women frivolously and only some women can cope with that." Peyton nodded and said perhaps she leant the other way, expecting too much of men. That led Finn to suggest, "Perhaps an insouciant relationship might work for you?" She smiled. "It might. Who knows?" As they were about to leave the restaurant Finn said, "Well what about tomorrow night?" She smiled and said no doubt tomorrow night would arrive and he looked surprised and said he'd been suggesting a date. "When did you suggest that?" "Just then." "I might have responded had I heard it." He sighed and put more effort into it. "Shall we do something together tomorrow night... er a movie perhaps? I'd really like that." Peyton thought if he was like this now he'd never change. She wanted a guy who'd love her and really care about her. She looked at the check and pulled half of the payment from her billfold and dropped check and money on the table. She said being new in town and new in her job she wanted time to settle and so was not ready to date yet. He looked at her money on the table, added his half and smiled and said it had been a nice evening. He offered to drive her home but she said she lived not far away and would enjoy the walk. He didn't argue. They kissed lightly and he watched her walk away. Peyton thought when she wanted to hire an attorney she'd prefer not to hire one who'd confessed he was frivolous. When she arrived home Aunt Alice said, "Thanks for the call that you wouldn't be home for dinner." "Omigod, sorry. I had no intention of not calling. I had a couple of drinks in a bar and then accepted an invitation to dine at a restaurant. Oh sorry I was so... so frivolous." "That's all right and thanks for the apology. At least you have begun meeting people. Um do you have anything organized for this weekend?" "Not a thing. Being new here I'm not in demand yet." "Well Ralph and I go to the ranch Friday evening a return after lunch Sunday. We go to see our son and to look at the cattle and talk about his management of things. Sam encourages his father to take this level of interest." "I-I really don't know." "I promise that you won't be intruding. Sam's manner is very much like mine although perhaps he is a little softer. I really want you to come with us." Peyton's face lit up and she said she'd love to go and asked would she be able to ride a horse. "Oh so you ride?" "No but I've always wanted to try to ride a horse. Could you please call Sam before we leave to advise I'll be included in the party." "There is no need to tell him that darling. I told him about you and he said, and I quote, "Jesus mom if she looks and sounds that great bring her here this weekend so I can check her out." Peyton colored and said didn't Sam have a girlfriend and Aunt Alice said several but none good enough to cross the bar. Peyton didn't ask what that meant so thought perhaps they all had tiny breasts. Men could be difficult about something like that. They were prepared to ignore the brain being tiny, er at least that's what her mom believed. Next afternoon Dave said hi and said quite loudly so his voice carried in the newsroom, "Peyton I really like the tweaking you are doing to the layout of our newspaper. Others have noticed it too." Peyton smiled happily and thought what a lie saying others had noticed. No one in the newsroom had said a word, not even her crew. Dave then dumped a pile of letters and emails in front of her. It was feedback from readers. All praised recent improvements in the appearance of their newspaper. Comments included: 'A more modern look appears to be involving.' [evolving] 'Jesus it's great to see the old farmyard look slipping away.' 'Every day I look to see the latest almost subtle changes. Looking good and good luck. Harry Setter. I'm the retired guy you as chief sub.' The news editor and chief reporter came over and began reading and reporters joined them. "This is good. It's years since this newspaper received complimentary correspondence from the readership," lied the chief reporter and others began to praise Peyton, making her feel she was beginning to be accepted in her new work environment. CHAPTER 3 Aunt Alice drove their 1994 Ford Crown Victoria and had Peyton sitting in the front with her and gave Peyton a non-stop commentary on everything she saw. Ralph dozed in the back seat. "Well there is our income-producing patch of dirt," she said, pointing to two barns with two grain silos towering above them. Ralph became alive and said, "We have 79,400 acres here Peyton and that's quite a large spread for this region and what we really have is good water supply. We raise cattle to sell off for fattening and we crop wheat for sale and corn for our own feed and we have irrigate hay and alfalfa pastures of great quality but we also have some bad lands that are good for almost nothing." "Very interesting Mr Andrews." "It's about time you began calling me Ralph." "Okay Ralph. Is this son of yours a worthy successor?" "What kind of question is that?" "Answer the girl Ralph. She wouldn't have asked unless she had reason." "He's turning into a top rancher Peyton because he's big into new proven developments and is big into technology. He's already a better rancher than I ever was." "You're never said that before," his wife said. "That's because no one asked until today." The astonished look on Aunt Alice's face made Peyton grin. A tall lean guy in boots, tight jeans and a new checked shirt emerged from the house waving. "Why's Sam all dolled up?" "Use your head darling." "What does that mean?" "Jesus Ralph, we are arriving with a young lady he's never met." "Oh." When Peyton got out of the car and stretched facing Sam she saw his jaw drop. She dropped her arms quickly and smiled and said hi Sam and he replied hi Peyton and his mom said it was obviously introductions weren't necessary. "Welcome to Sunderland Fields, so named by my great-grandfather." "Thank you. You look young to be a rancher." "Oh thanks. And how old does one have to be to qualify as a rancher?" "Oh shyte. I'm prone to make statements without thinking." "That's understandable because as an editor your mind is turned to work looking for erroneous statements." "Yes perhaps so. That's really good thinking." "Actually you're very young to be an editor." "Oh and how old does one...?" She stopped, catching the grin. "Your mom warned me there were no flies on you." They all laughed and Sam went to the truck and unloaded his father's bag and his mom's two bags and said looking at the bag Peyton had in her hand, "You travel light." "Well I sleep nude, won't require much make-up out at a ranch and it's warm weather and so three changes of light clothing for under three days is quite sufficient don't you think?" "Well yes." The ranch house rambled and was old but well built and had been modernized, to make it more airy. The huge fireplace in the living room greatly impressed Peyton. Sam spotted the interest and said, "We get heavy snowfalls being this high up. The old-timers would have cured bacon in that high fireplace. The rings to hold the hooks remain embedded in the stone." "It's a historical masterpiece and looking upwards Peyton said, "And so are those massive ceiling beams hand-sawn?" "You know about early architecture?" "Well I do read a lot and watch documentaries on TV." "So do I?" Peyton couldn't help looking at him in obvious interest and he was ready for that, smiling. He asked would Peyton like to help his mom prepare dinner. "I don't get to eat fine cooking because I live alone. But the big piece of beef has been slow roasting to hours.' "I'll make you a desert. How would you like meringue-topped deep apple tart providing you have apples." "I do. Oh my, that sounds like something out of a Julia Childs cookbook." "So you know of Julia Childs?" "Yeah and don't look surprised. I get DVDs by mail order and the DVD of the film on the story of her life arrived some months ago. I love it and thought it was gas, especially with Meryl Streep talking as if she had a sock stuffed in her mouth." "Oh we must talk films. I'm quite a fan. I guess I ought to be in the kitchen." Sam looked at her without embarrassment. "I must say it's a pleasure having you at the ranch Peyton. You are very pretty." "Thanks. Why don't you grab some beer and allow your father to catch up about what's been happening on the ranch." "You think well if a city girl." "Yes and you ought not be surprised." They laughed. Dinner was great and Peyton thought it was not surprising that Ralph appeared to have shifted his mind and body up a couple of gears. He was very animated and looked very much at home in that environment. The oldies were off to watch TV, leaving Sam and Peyton to talk films, music, the newspaper and the ranch. She suspected Sam was holding back saying she knew a lot for a woman and thought the poor guy needed to extend his social activity beyond the local community. "What do you do for sex living here by yourself?" Sam paled in shock. "Are your really meaning to ask me that?" "Yes, I rarely waste breath asking about what I'm not interesting in knowing." He looked nervously at the closed door to the TV room. "Um I have friendships with a number of people." "And?" "Including very close friendships with currently seven females." "And how many of them have regular boyfriends or are married?" Sam choked and said three were married. "Naughty boy Sam," Peyton giggled. "I guess you realize playing around like that could lead to really big trouble?" "Yeah and I've had a couple of close calls." "You wouldn't be much of a rancher as a cripple or with half of your brain dead from a pipe being bent over your head." Sam stroked his jaw. "Say something deep about this Sam. You are possibly on the cusp of experiencing big strife." He pulled at an ear and said thoughtfully, "I'm a pretty sensible guy but sometimes passion gets in the way of sense." "That's excellent thinking Sam. Now just think about this. We all like to think we need sex but just how good will you be at that if one dark night one of those husbands gets the drop on you and cuts off your dick?" "Jesus Peyton, stop scaring the crap out of me." "I'll get coffee while you go in and chat to your parents Oh what we just discussed ought not be repeated." "Yeah right. Um are you interested in me?" "Yes Sam, now off you go and chat to your mom about things that interest her. On you may as well know she'd brought me out here to find if I'm interested in you." "Get away with you. How could you know that? Mom has a big mouth but I bet that's something she would not have done." "Believe me Sam, interesting sons in young women is what moms do." * * * No way could Sam belief his mom was setting him up he decided as he entered the TV room. His father was asleep and his mom was switching channels aimlessly. "Hi, well?" "Well what?" he asked with growing alarm. "What do you think of that beautiful lady I've brought here?" "She's all right." Alice practically spat, "She's only all right. Darling open you eyes and get your brain activating. That is one bright, intelligent and brainy lady who'll bear magnificent grandchildren." "What?" he said, appalled. "Oh sorry, forget that last bit. My mind was running away on me." "Mom currently I'm having sex with Erin Miller, Susie White and Vin Bruckner to name three of the seven." "I know their mothers. Why haven't you named the other four? Are they married women?" "Mom I'm not stupid," Sam said evasively. "And why should I take an interest in Peyton when I have daughters of solid ranching people to play with?" "And now who's really stupid," Alice snapped. "God why do women have to reply on men?" Sam decided not to provoke his mom by answering that. Instead he said, "I must say she has a great figure." "Now that's adopting a more positive attitude Sam. Butter her up tonight and you might get lucky and she'll to see you again." "Mom you are out of touch. Today's young women have sex with men, and some with both men and women although not necessarily at the same time, as a favored recreational activity, with much the same approach and enthusiasm as guys have when they go to a ball game. And the guy they have sex with tonight can be changed like a dress and they have it off with a different guy the next night." "That's being promiscuous." "They don't think so." "Well let's forget that. Just please me Sam by having a go at her. "I'll think about it." Alice gritted her teeth and just at that moment Peyton arrived with coffee on a tray. "Peyton if you feel you require our approval to associate with Sam than you have it?" "Mom!" "It's okay Sam. Your mom probably thinks I'm too shy to give you the eye. Well I'm not. If you want to cuddle up to me Sam well here I am." Sam jumped up and strode to the door. "Where are you going?" his mom shrilled. "Out." Alice looked at Peyton and said she was sorry. Perhaps she ought not have interfered. Peyton shrugged and said it was okay. Half the time guys didn't know what they wanted. Sam left the house and walked over to the nearest barn now really feeling like sex.