Cameron

The plane was landing in San Francisco, but the fascination with watching the ground draw closer, closer and closer until the landing wheels touched down had worn off a long time ago. I didn’t even slide up the window blind, preferring instead to do little things like straighten up my reclining chair, pack away my headphones and check the time. Right on schedule, according to my watch.

Years ago, I had toyed with the idea of getting my own private jet. Having my own jet at my disposal whenever and wherever I wanted had sounded nice, but in reality, I was actually trying to travel as little as possible. Noah needed to make friends and have a steady schedule at his age, not have his father zooming off to all corners of the world. And if I had my own jet, I’d be much more likely to go on impromptu trips. Travel was nice, but I didn’t need it to be happy - and I didn’t need a private jet to travel.

Still, I almost always flew first class if at all possible. Some smaller airports didn’t have a reason to accommodate first-class passengers because they were few and far between. San Francisco had no such lack of wealthy men and women wishing to fly to the city in style, so I’d had no trouble at all getting a seat on this plane in Chicago.

First class was preferable to economy in so many ways. Legroom. Lots of legroom. And better refreshments, as well as a wider selection. There were also fewer people per plane, which meant fewer prying eyes to see the occasional ridiculous smiles and lustful movements that may have flashed across my face while I lay in my reclining seat with my eyes closed, thinking.

I had a lot to think about, and it all started with Diana. Unlike when I had kissed her, I didn’t have to ask myself what I’d done after our… office moment. I’d known exactly what I was doing. I had repressed my desire for her long enough and obviously, Diana had wanted it too.

But I had needed more, so much more. I felt her wetness for me, surrounded my finger with the warm, needy sweetness of her body. I had tasted her want for my attentions that had lingered on my fingers after I left her. When I got back to my own office - as a necessity if I was going to focus on my work - I had entered my private restroom.

With my back against the tiled wall, I unzipped my suit pants and grabbed my hard length. Moaning quietly, I stroked myself with one hand and held the fingers with Diana’s juices to my lips with the other until my eyes rolled up, and I released my own need - but it wasn’t enough.

Stopping had been the right call, though. Sex in the office was something I’d never, ever done - even with Jo. After all the women I’d been with and allowed to do… well, almost anything their hearts desired and I did the same to them… I wasn’t really in the position to take a moral stand. However, despite my… kinks, I could still draw lines, and I drew one at blatant sex in the office.

Luckily, Diana did too, because if she had begged me to put the throbbing erection that she could clearly see inside of her, I wouldn’t have been able to say no.

What did she see in me? I had a handsome face, but years of a time-consuming job and spending every free second I had with Noah hadn’t helped my physique. My biceps had remained impressive, but my stomach wasn’t as toned as it had once been when I spent time in the gym with my old college buddies and a few colleagues. With Diana’s wide hips and buxom chest, her confident, swingy walk that showed off all her assets, and beautiful, symmetrical features, surely she could have had any man she wanted.

What did I have? Money, and lots of it. Diana didn’t seem like she was driven by money or the desire for it, but… I’d seen it before. Demure, beautiful women who pretended to be into me, told me they loved kids, then did something to make it clear they just wanted that expensive pair of heels or that real fur coat.

As of yet, Diana hadn’t asked me for a single thing. Chloe had referred her to me as a nanny, and Diana hadn’t even let me pay her anything in advance when it might have helped her mother feel better and taken a little weight off both their shoulders. Someone who only wanted access to my money wouldn’t act that way.

I hated to even think it, but it wasn’t necessarily out of the question. She could have been playing the long con.

The long con. Did I really think so little of Diana? She worked hard - she’d even found those misallocated funds for me somehow - and she loved her mother and wanted to take care of her. It’s not that I think little of her, I just don’t know what to think. I just knew that I couldn’t be with someone who said they loved me while staring into the contents of my wallet.

I spotted a driver standing next to a car and holding a sign that read ‘Cameron Hart’. Briefly, I introduced myself and shook his hand, then I sat in the back of the car on the way to Oceanside Lodge. This was the same hotel I’d stayed at for the last court date, and in fact, every time I came to San Francisco. The name sounded very fancy, but in reality, the ritzy hotel was several stories tall, very modern, and looked nothing like a lodge.

It did, however, have a view of the ocean as the name promised, and my room had windows looking out toward the sea. I had made sure of that when I booked it.

When the keycard swiper beeped and let me into my room, I found my luggage already set neatly next to the bed and a bottle of white wine on top of the mini fridge under the bar; a card resting against it that said: “Enjoy!” This wasn’t a complimentary service, I knew, but one of familiarity. Whenever I came to San Francisco, I stayed here - and the staff remembered me and my name. I had ordered this very bottle once, and they had the courtesy to remember and bring me one as a small gift thanking me for my business.

I poured a glass immediately, resolving to thank the staff when I ordered room service this evening. Sitting on the balcony in the deliciously warm, sunny, 62-degree weather, the wine actually lifted my spirits for a time. What a nice gesture! This was why I always stayed in 5-star hotels, despite the fact that I was usually fairly careful with my money. They remembered you, the service was excellent and you never knew who you might meet or what connections you might make at a place like this.

One glass was fine. Looking back, two had been a mistake.

There was a saying that I’d heard in college - or maybe it was Socrates or Plato or one of those other ancient philosophers. Drink to feel better when you already feel good. Drink to feel worse when you already feel bad. The hotel’s hospitality had briefly fooled me into forgetting my cares, but now that I had a couple glasses of wine in me…

I couldn’t take my eyes off the bed. It was simple, sleek, and modern. Crisp yet soft, dark yet inviting, the blanket lacked a single wrinkle. What color were the sheets hiding underneath? The headboard jutted about three feet above the bed, reaching a high point in the center and tapering down gracefully until reaching two knobs, one on either side.

The knobs were just tall enough to tie ropes around.

The thought sickened me, opening gates of repressed emotions and releasing shame and loneliness into my heart. But… I couldn’t see the ropes, at least not as I used to use them. In my half-drunken mind’s eye, the ropes hung unused along the posts. No makeup-caked woman with assets too large to be real lay there, waiting for me.

Instead, I could see Diana. She lay on her side, lips slightly parted in that adorable, teasing way of hers, waiting. Waiting for me? She softly blinked her eyes yes. I went to her, and we concentrated only on each other. We didn’t need anything else. No toys, no games, no fantasies - just our bodies to please each other.

My fantasy crashed to an abrupt halt when I realized that I hadn’t touched Diana’s breasts yet and thus, couldn’t visualize them. That thought combined with the wine nearly brought tears to my eyes. How could I even dare to fantasize about having Diana on a bed in which I would have been more than happy to indulge myself in paid escorts and S&M?

Maybe one lapse of judgment would have been forgivable. After the divorce, I’d been lonely. People say that when someone you love leaves your life, they leave a hole in your heart, but I disagree. Jo had left many holes in my heart, some of which I was still seeking to fill. Physical and mental closeness to another human being, someone to talk to, someone to spend time with - just for starters. The divorce had deprived me of all these things… No, Jo had deprived me of all these things.

I had tried to fill the closeness hole with a few hours of wild sex here and there. It hadn’t worked and now I could see that it never would have worked. It was unhealthy, and I should have realized that after the first few times. Then, maybe, I could forgive myself now and I could have healed sooner.

Too late. I drained my glass and poured another. Maybe if I kept drinking I would just forget about Diana.

I didn’t manage to do that, but I did finally manage to drink myself into a state where I could sleep. I woke up with a headache and a grumbling stomach that reminded me I’d forgotten to eat the night before.

Finally sober, I sat at the table on the balcony with a breakfast of scrambled eggs and avocado on toast, able to think with a clear mind.

I’d learned one thing from the bottle of wine the evening before - I wasn’t ready for a relationship. After all the counseling and effort we’d put into recovering from the divorce, I had thought I was in a better place. Really, Noah was the strong one. Despite his age, he had managed to move on and adjust to a life without a mother. I was weak. I hadn’t even been able to cope with not having a warm body in bed with me every night.

What I’d done with Diana in the office, how I felt about her, it might feel real and wholesome, but I wasn’t in a position to judge. I needed to work on myself and figure out who I was alone, not leaning on someone’s shoulder and having sex with them.

Besides… Noah already loved Diana. What if I invited her into my life - into his life - and she left us, like Jo had? I was a full ten years older than Diana, and she was my employee. Jo had been my employee, and I’d been older than her too. And she’d left me for someone new. Noah couldn’t lose another person in his life. Letting her get any closer to me or my son was just setting us both up for heartbreak.

That settled it. I would still pay off the mortgage as I had intended, because even if I couldn’t pursue Diana, I still cared about her. But after that… business. Our relationship would be strictly professional for her sake, my sake and Noah’s sake.

Dating an employee never ended well. It was high time I remembered that. I should never have forgotten.

Luckily - or maybe terrifyingly, I could tell because my heart and mind were racing in tandem - I had a visit to court to focus on. In fact, my thoughts had taken me all the way through breakfast, dressing and the ride to the courthouse.

“Good morning, Cameron.” My attorney stood when I entered, abandoning her seat on one of the benches scattered around the lobby. She had fought hard for me, and last time Jo had definitely had the upper hand - but today, Millie assured me we had an excellent case. This time, we had handwritten and spoken testimonies from Noah’s teachers that he was socializing much better, and an official letter from our counselor lauding Noah’s progress in handling the divorce.

Basically, we had proof that Noah was happy and in good hands - and that those good hands were his father’s.

“Good morning.”

Millie spotted my nervousness and smiled reassuringly, patting her briefcase. “Don’t worry. Like I said over the phone, we have an excellent case to present to Judge Harford.”

“I know.” I gave Millie a quick smile, not really any less nervous. Judge Harford was the only one who could give me any words that would comfort me.

I was wrong. “No, I mean we have an excellent case today. I only just learned this. Johanna’s husband filed for a divorce a few days ago. Part of her case was that a family with two parents would be better for Noah than just a father, and don’t worry - I intend to use her divorce to pick that to pieces.”

I soundlessly pressed her hand, unable to speak through the thickness in my throat.

We entered the courtroom and sat down. I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead, but every once in a while, I couldn’t help but glance back. Jo didn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing me staring over the heads of those present, awaiting her arrival, but…

Suddenly, we didn’t just have a chance that Noah would stay with me. The way Millie was talking, there was no doubt.

I managed to not be staring when Jo arrived, but I caught the tiny smirk she gave me when she caught my sideways glance at her. Of course, she looked perfect as usual. Too perfect. Jo tried too hard, always had, and it had taken me far too long to realize that was her way of covering up an empty, vain personality.

Suddenly, I realized something else. I might still have issues, but they didn’t revolve around Jo anymore. Finally, at long last, I could look at her realizing I didn’t have a speck of love for my ex anymore. I still missed what we had and how our family could have grown together, but now I knew Jo could have never given me that.

I listened as Judge Harford stated the case number and name, then the attorneys made their opening remarks. This had happened last time. I was waiting anxiously for the moment when Millie could unveil our new argument.

Finally, it was time. Armed with documents and spoken word, Millie stood and delivered the new information to the judge. She talked about Noah’s devotion to me, his rapid improvement, the things I gave up to spend all my time with him. She read sections from the counselor’s letter that stated she believed it would be detrimental for Noah to leave me when he was making so much progress right where he was.

There was a short back and forth between the attorneys, but I could tell Jo’s was caught off guard by our excellent testimony and Millie’s flawless presentation. Jo’s attorney couldn’t seem to make any sort of real argument for my ex, and she kept trying to redirect the judge’s attention.

Finally, Judge Harford stood. “I’ve heard enough, thank you. I listened carefully to the arguments presented, and I’ve come to a decision. Based on evidence and testimony, I have determined that it is in Noah Hart’s best interests to continue to live with his father, Cameron Hart. However,” she said, raising a hand as more than one mouth opened, “I will allow Johanna Landry six weeks of visitation per year.”

“Six weeks?” Jo finally spoke up, unable to contain herself any longer. I wondered when was the last time that pretty face hadn’t gotten exactly what she wanted. She at least had enough decorum left to respect the judge’s stern glare? “Excuse me. Your Honor, six weeks isn’t a fair amount of visitation, and Chicago is so far from San Francisco - ”

“And how is that anyone’s problem but your own? Mrs. Landry, you moved away from Chicago where your son lives.” Judge Harford’s eyes dared Jo to keep complaining.

Jo stood there, seething so hard that I expected steam to whistle out of her ears like a cartoon character. “This is your fault!” She whirled to her attorney and swept her case and documents off the desk and onto the floor. “You just cost me, my son.” The astonished woman only stood and watched along with everyone else present as Jo stomped down the aisle and out of the room.