Correcting Ms. Hardin Page 4

  A seed of sympathy arose in him for her. “I’m wash and wear; I’ll dry. After you’re dry, I’ll clean this room. Good thing it was a smaller towel. I expect it all should clean up without repainting needed. I guess it was too close to the candle.”

  A soft, almost childlike smile grew, and a cell phone chimed. “It’s on my desk.” He went there and she followed, holding the towel but not shielding her naked body. “This is why I want gay assistants.”

  “To put out fires?”

  She responded with a lopsided smile. He read the text. “The jury is back.”

  “Oh, shit. That’s bad.”

  “Get dressed; I’ll clean.”

  “Robert will help you.”

  Chapter Five

  At 4 p.m. Christmas Eve, Solomon, with Robert’s help, got the bathroom walls and ceiling cleaned of smoke. He called home. “Mom, I’m running late; it’s okay to start dinner without me.”

  The disappointment was obvious in her voice. “Sol, has that witch got you working late?”

  “Yes, but it’s a legitimate urgency. I’ll be home by 6:00 at the latest.”

  She sighed as only a mother could, making him smile. “Okay.”

  He returned to his desk. All the other attorneys and assistants had gone home, and Sol added closing comments to a file. Five minutes later Ms. Hardin stormed in, throwing her briefcase into a wall. “Where’s my goddamn staff? Somebody get me some fucking coffee. We’re working late tonight to start the appeal.”

  Sol saved the computer file he worked on and smirked to himself as he drifted out of his office. What a lovely day to get fired. I’ve been here more than a month. “Ms. Hardin, you’re clearly upset or angry or both, but you know I’m not a gopher, and you know where the coffee is.”

  “Fuck you, bottom boy.” She poured for herself, and he ignored the verbal barb.

  He stared into her cold, angry eyes. “See? That’s not so hard now, is it? If you can pass the state bar exam you can pour coffee, and from now on you will treat me with proper, professional respect.” He took a deep breath to stay calm. The fun had evaporated from his employment situation.

  She stomped toward him. “Don’t try to grow a fucking spine. I know what you are.” She grabbed his dark blue tie and yanked. “I hate this color. Pink, purple, or other similar colors are acceptable, not that vomit-colored shit. Never wear it again. Don’t try to be a man.” She grabbed a pair of scissors from the nearby desk and cut the tie in half before Solomon could react.

  He smirked and took out the small metal box for petty cash from Robert’s desk and counted out forty dollars.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Paying for this tie with petty cash. Do you really think you can destroy the property of others without consequences? There’s no more honor in that act than there was to leave the scene of the accident to earn a ticket for hit and run. I remind you, counselor, I’m the one that kept you out of jail for contempt of cop.”

  She threw her hot coffee on his face and chest. “Your parents must be abominations of nature to give life to an ignoble bastard as you.”

  His skin seared from the burning liquid. In half an instant, he grabbed her wrist, dragging her to her office.

  She struggled to no avail. “You fucking bastard! You can’t take a man so you attack a woman!”

  He threw her on the couch. “I entered hell the night I came here. Now I can say I’ve met the devil’s sister, and she’s as evil as he is. I’m certain there’s not a gram of love left in that cold, black, barren heart of yours.” He stormed off to calm the tornado inside of him. As he grit his teeth in anger, the memory of the parking lot chat with Mr. Moriarity weeks ago came back to him. He sighed and then smiled, picking up the scissors she had used on his tie, and returned to her. He wasn’t sure if he was surprised that she was still there rather than leaving. He couldn’t read her blank face or maybe there was some fear, regret?

  He yanked her blouse from her skirt and opened the scissors.

  “You little cocksucker. That’s a two-hundred–dollar blouse.”

  “Why is it different than my tie? So let’s talk about charges. Robert mentioned to me that you threw a stapler at him a month ago. That’s a crime of attempted battery. You threw a hot liquid on me; that’s aggravated assault, and by cutting my tie you are guilty of vandalism. You’ve created a hostile work environment with your verbal batteries and psychological ploys. You only hire gays, which is discrimination.” He smirked as he tossed the scissors away. “Shall I go on? You need to be broken like a recalcitrant horse, or—” He flashed back again to what Mr. Moriarity had said. She needed an ass beating.

  “Or what? Are you going to rape me?”

  “Rape you? I’d rather have sex with road kill. Oh, you need a good fucking, but I’d rather die before I did it.”

  “You little queer bastard. You couldn’t even get it up for a woman.” She swung a hand at his face. He grabbed her wrist with ease.

  Solomon laughed. “You silly little girl.”

  “Don’t you call me that, you asshole.”

  He laughed.

  “Fuck you. What’s so funny?”

  “I’m not queer.”

  “You are too.”

  “I never said I was. You assumed it because I learned of the job opening in a gay newspaper. My brother is gay and told me about the job.”

  “You liar.”

  “Whatever.” He sat on the couch and reeled her wiggling body across his lap. “I guarantee you’ll remember this for the rest of your life. From now on, you will be respectful and professional.” He checked his watch and still had time to get home. Lifting his hand, he landed it as hard as he could on her nearest cheek. After one second, he repeated the punishment to the other side of her ass.

  She screamed, swore, and jumped with each impact. “Let me go!”

  He scissored his legs around hers to still them and powered his thick hand against her ass time and time again. He counted to ten smacks, and then twenty smacks, and then chuckled. Why am I counting? After a few minutes passed he hoisted her skirt up and kept spanking.

  “You crazy bastard! You can’t do this to me!”

  “From what I’ve heard about you, you’ve had this coming for years.” He stopped the spanking. “Knowing you brings the story of Scrooge to a new meaning. You’re a modern, female Scrooge. People fear or despise you. Is that truly what you desire? You’ve alienated benefactors and can’t keep employees. No one respects you, and you flout traffic and employment laws. You lack basic skills kindergartners learn.” He resumed the spanking with an objective mind. He didn’t hate her but only delivered the spanking she deserved, tapering it a bit since it had been a long time since he spanked a woman. He wanted to avoid brutality while distinctly driving the point home.

  She resumed screaming and squirming. “Stop it! I command you to halt!”

  “There is no safe word for a discipline spanking.”

  Time and again he brought his hand down on her quivering ass. Her struggles weakened; her legs fell still. He pulled her white panties down and spanked her raging red ass. The heat was obvious.

  “Stop! Stop this!” Her voice wavered.

  “You’re as insubstantial as smoke, just like Scrooge.” He continued spanking her, landing a dozen hits on one cheek and then moving to the other. He focused on her sit spots but was sure to justly punish all of her ass and the tops of her thighs. He wanted her to reap the result of her evil seeds.

  Her head fell on the couch as she sobbed. Solomon continued, intending to leave a life-long memory.

  “Stop… Please…” It was a plea and not a command.

  “From now on, you will be respectful and professional.” He repeated it slower, and again, even slower. He timed the spanks with each word. “From now on, you will be respectful and professional.”

  She pled, “Please, stop…”

  “From now on, you will be respectful and professional.”

  �
��Yes. From now on, I will be respectful and professional.” She openly cried. “Please stop! It hurts! It hurts so bad!” she entreated in a woeful tone.

  With a renewed vigor, he corrected Ms. Hardin, feeling sorry for her but not letting it budge him from what was a duty. He stopped. “How will you be from now on?”

  “I’ll be respectful and professional.”

  “Twenty more.”

  “No, please. I can’t take any more.”

  “But you’ve earned it.” He felt some compassion for her, but he fulfilled his promise and with a slow, measured pattern he focused the score of strikes into her sit spot on both cheeks. Heat emanated from her ass, and he knew it was a just and fair spanking.

  The spanks echoed in the office and her sobs filled the voids between them. He took a deep breath. He knew this was right and needed. He couldn’t describe it, but he sensed good in Ms. Hardin. Somewhere she’d gone astray.

  He finished and thought of shoving her to the floor like a sack of potatoes, or putting a foot on her chest as a victor would. Instead, he put her on the couch and brought water to her. She sipped as more tears flowed. In a gentle voice, he said, “Remember to be professional and respectful.”

  “Thank you for the water.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She rubbed her ass. “You’re fired. Leave.”

  “I’m not fired. My vigor for working here has been renewed. I’ll be in bright and early Monday morning.”

  “I said you’re fired.” Her spitfire tone was gone. She spoke in a subdued manner.

  “No, I’m not fired, I will dress as I please, and so will everyone else. You’ll address me and everyone professionally and you’ll say please, thank you, and refrain from swearing or name-calling.”

  “You’re putting conditions on me?”

  “Yes. I’m your ghost of Christmas.”

  “I’m Jewish.”

  “Then I’m your Hanukah ghost; regardless, I know it will take some time for you to change, but I expect sincere effort. In some strange way I detect you are salvageable, like Scrooge, otherwise I’d file suit, get a few hundred thousand dollars from you, and move on. I’m willing to invest time in you, human to human. There’s too much evil in the world, and I don’t think you should be playing on that team.” Their eyes met and held. She blinked and looked down. “Ms. Hardin, do we understand each other? I will spank you again. And again. And again. I bother because I think you’re a good person gone astray. I’m considering another spanking for maintenance Monday morning. Oh, you’ll get your own coffee.”

  She shook her head and hugged herself. “Please don’t.”

  “Look back on your life this weekend. Forget the firm. From your memory, find a time when things were good and you were happy so you can rekindle the fire of living a good life.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be reasonable. If I touch my finger to my chin that’s a warning you’ve crossed a line or are dangerously close to it. You will either back down or I’ll flay your hide in front of others if need be.”

  She nodded. “You’re really not gay?”

  “Nope.” He checked his watch. “I have to get home.”

  He went to her bathroom and carried back the bunny slippers he’d noticed earlier.

  “No one who wears bunny slippers can be all bad,” he teased. He put them on her feet and left her to her dispirited self as, rubbing her ass, she collapsed on the couch.

  Chapter Six

  Ms. Hardin gawked as Solomon left her office, and then she rubbed her ass. That rotten fucking bastard. How dare he treat me like a child? The fuck—

  She stopped her train of thought, remembering his admonition to cease swearing. She thought back to how he’d massaged her headache away, and how she’d felt compelled to back down when he’d shushed her in front of the police officer and insisted that he be called Solomon.

  She laughed aloud. “And he’s not gay. Go figure.” Then she gasped, remembering. “He held me naked when the towel caught fire.”

  She made sure he’d left the office and the front door was locked before rushing to the bathroom for a calming shower, turning it as hot as she could stand. She stripped and stood under the pulsing stream of water, letting it run down the front of her body, but when she turned around the hot water reignited the fire on her spanked ass, sending searing pain through it. She shrieked and backed to the corner with her hands rubbing her sore derriere. Turning the shower to cool, she stuck her ass under the water. Relief made her suck a calming breath in. She dried, dressed, and drove home, squirming as the seat made contact with her blistered behind.

  That weekend, she slept fitfully and had both bad and good dreams. The good ones recalled happy childhood events, and the bad ones included being visited by a Christmas ghost. Damn him for planting the concept into my mind. She groaned and vowed to fire him again on Monday and call the police if needed to eject him. She shuddered at the thought of anyone discovering she’d been spanked like an errant and misbehaving schoolgirl with her skirt pulled up, a most embarrassing part. She replayed the event time and again of how he draped her across his lap and spanked her till she cried. The embarrassment and shame coursed through her body like it was happening again. With remorse slipping in, she confessed to herself she might have deserved it.

  She’d surely fire the son-of-a—

  She stopped herself again from swearing. Damn him! He’s gotten into my head. All she did that weekend was sleep in, read books she’d piled up, and make a trip to the mall.

  For some reason, Sunday night’s sleep was the best in years. She arose and smiled at the attorney in the mirror, taking time to add a bit more makeup, thinking of Solomon. Speaking to the lady in the mirror, she said, “He is rather handsome and knows his way around a law office.” Shaking her head, she barked back, “Stop it. That’s stupid to think of him romantically.”

  On the way to the firm, she stopped at a bakery and strode into the office with a large box of specialty pastries and rolls, not just mundane donuts. She set them by the coffee and brewed two pots, one regular and one decaf. She sipped hers in her office as she reviewed a file. When the rest of the office crew came in within minutes of each other, she walked out. “Good morning. I thought it would be nice to begin the week with some treats. Please help yourselves.”

  They stared at her, some with mouths open. Robert offered, “Do you need more coffee, Ms. Hardin?”

  She saw Solomon at his desk via his open door. “No, thank you, Robert. I’ll get my own from now on. Your time is best spent on our clients.” He didn’t respond. She hoped Solomon heard her, and she wondered why she wanted to impress him. She motioned to the treats. “Please, enjoy them.” She took one, stuck her head into Solomon’s office and smiled. “When you have time, may I see you for a moment in my office?”

  “Of course, Ms. Hardin. I can come in now.” He rose.

  “No rush.”

  “My pleasure.” She swallowed at the lump in her throat. There was something about him that made her want to please him, obey him. She laughed to herself. How silly. Yet, he’d been the sole person who took her on, corrected her, and she couldn’t deny he was right. She’d become a demon.

  Solomon entered her office, and she closed the door. “I wish to apologize for my conduct last week. I hope I didn’t make you late for dinner with your parents due to our unexpected, uh, meeting.” She reached for a small box and handed it to him.

  He took it. “I made it home on time, but thank your for your concern.” He opened the box and lifted out a blue tie and a green tie. “Thank you.”

  “I tried to match the blue one I cut, and the green one matches your eyes. The card and receipt for the store are there so you may exchange them if you’d like.”

  “That’s kind and considerate. Thank you again, so I take it I’m not fired.”

  She screwed her face up with a shy, little-girl smile and shook her head. He left. She squirmed in her seat. Residual effects from her
spanking teased the nerves in her butt.

  She made it through the day with only a few swear words slipping past her lips, mostly under her breath and none in the presence of Solomon. The rest of the staff kept glancing her way with unusual grins on their faces.

  That night, she slept fitfully with cursed dreams of her screwing up cases time and again. In one dream, she tore around the office with others hiding from her. She woke herself screaming a stream of swear words that Solomon would obviously hate. When her alarm sounded she stood rubbing her neck as a headache grew and a hot shower failed to dampen. She erupted into the office demanding her coffee, tossing her briefcase, and slamming doors.

  A gentle knock on her door made her bark, “What?”

  Solomon entered wearing one of the ties, the green one, she bought for him. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and touched his chin with the other.

  She stared. “What?” Something within her automatically softened her tone as the muscles in her neck stiffened. She rubbed them.

  “Ms. Hardin, do you recall the meaning of this?” He touched his chin again.

  Suddenly, she remembered. Her lips parted as her chin dropped open. She swallowed, words failed her, and her headache throbbed.

  He set his cup on her desk on a coaster, pulled her visitor’s chair out and motioned for her to sit there. She obeyed his wordless instruction as though under his remote control.

  “I thought I’d massage you before I spanked you.” The tone in his voice made it hard to determine if he was serious, teasing, or warning.

  The warmth of his hands sent a soothing pulse around her body. How could these same hands that spanked her a few days ago be so loving and kind?

  “Look, Solomon, I appreciate your, uh, concern and the neck massage, but you’re not my father, and I am the owner of this firm.” She recognized her conciliatory tone, and it surprised her.

  “We’ll talk in a moment. For now, close your eyes and think of better times either in the past or future. Give your muscles and your emotions permission to soothe and relax. Shhhhhh.”