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Thread: Kris and Sy23 The Publisher's Daughter {Rated M}

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    Richard laughed outright at her hesitation.

    "Of course it's 'Richard'," he chucked. shit, pretty girl, do you think I want to go around having people call me 'Mr Nugent?' That was my father!" He picked up his mug and drained half of it in one swallow, though it was really too hot and scalded his stomach. He was not shy, not exactly, but felt he needed some kind of displacement activity. Her question had come close to disorienting him. He had not really thought of himself as famous and of renown... not in the way she meant. As far as he thought about it, he was a simpler scribbler. The characters he invented might have a certain fame, but the man behind them was nobody.

    "Like, a writer isn't like a rock star or an actor," he tried to explain. Johnny Depp might be as well known as Captain Jack Sparrow, or even better, or Harrison Ford more famous even than Han Solo. But Sherlock Holmes is known to people who have never heard of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and King Arthur is much more famous than Sir Thomas Mallory. Authors have to stand in the background, to make their characters seem more real."

    But it wasn't really an explanation, or even really true, and he knew it. The media had made him into the nearest thing literature had to a superstar, and he could not avoid it.

    "And as for my relationships," he said, "this might sound strange coming from a guy who makes his living from people buying books, but... why buy books when you can join a library? I've never had any wish to settle down with one girl, when I can have a different girl every night. I just - "

    He pulled up suddenly, realizing that for a girl with as little experience in the dating field as her, this could have been interpreted as mocking her, or even being hurtful.

    "I mean, guys are different that way," he said quickly. "It's to do with nature. Guys are hunters, trying to make connections with as many females as possible to spread their seed. A female is choosier, looking for a man who will be a good provider, who will stay around and nurture children." He shok his head. "I'm saying this all wrong, I think, sorry."

    He thought for a second.

    "All right," he said. "So do you want to go through with this... this game of your father's?"
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  2. #12
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    His words shook me to the core and I quickly hid my hands under the table as I fumbled my fingers. It was unsightly habit that I could not remove myself from doing, but I found ways of hiding it from public eyes. I didn't expect him to compare women to a replaceable objects- it both surprised and infuriated me.

    I drank his words from his books, devouring the idea of passionate and true love that burnt deep to the core. Hell I wished for it, even knowing I was a child for hoping to expect such thing. I kept forgetting how we can be one and another in our real life and in our creative personality.

    I should have taken father words more seriously, understanding that the person before me was much more dynamic than I was. It made me feel somewhat sad and upset. I was not naïve per so- I had friends that have changed partners often, until settling, and even had few close friends that were unable to be steady, but the thought of him, someone whom I regarded as highly, spending his life in such a different way- was somewhat heartbreaking.

    Maybe it was something to do with age. I was tired being on my own, and I was fully ready to sink my teeth into the right kind of connection for a long term if the guy was serious- while he, as young as he was, was still in the stage of wanting to explore. I should respect it, even though I find it hard to understand.

    And besides he was doing me a favor, the best way to reward him is to live and let live. I was not going to be a pebble in his path of life.

    "I can go with this plan… I don't understand father at all- I work a lot of hours, so I cannot understand how in the few times I am outside and free, being seen with someone is so important to him. Even though my place is my own, we share the same ground and I still live by him, maybe that's why he takes such offense? I do plan to get away once I get more money and be more renown in my field", I smiled, "He is stubborn and strict, but he is not all bad. Maybe deep inside I am afraid to leave the nest and try on my own?"

    The waiter came in and I ordered a small cake.

    "I suspect we should write down our terms and conditions for this, yes?", I looked at him, "But before we do, I have just one question- it has to do with your work, your story- 'Not September'- this book… Was it based on something? I couldn't help but find this story to be written from a very different point of view… a sad... somewhat broken one... Can you tell me more about it?"

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    Richard looked down at the tabletop, his eyes sad. Even while writing Not September he had wondered why he was doing so. Why draw out such memories, when there was no need? He knew why, at one level, the reason why anyone writes. To tell a story that cries out to be told, in the hope that the reader, too, gains from the reading of it. Yet the story behind the novel was a rare thing indeed. A time he, Richard, had failed, yet the story had ended well. Leaving him with joy at another's fortune, and disappointment at his own shortcomings.

    He recalled it well. His childhood in London. His nerdy little friend, pimply, overweight sickly, with spectacles held together by tape, the kid always picked last in sporting contests, who was considered so contemptible the other kids did not even bother to bully him.

    If Nigel (Known as "Charles") in the novel had been stupid, his shortcomings would not have been a problem. sadly, Nigel had been extremely intelligent, so much so that his own physical repulsiveness and weakness had repulsed him. Richard had befriended him, partly from sympathy but also because he found the kid's conversation, once you got by the shyness, very interesting.

    He well recalled the day he'd found Nigel behind the bike sheds, hanging his face blue, gasping out his life. The note that said he could not go on any more, that oblivion (for Nigel was an avowed atheist) as better than the hell of being alive. Nigel, though could not even get suicide right. Richard had found him, cut him down, given him artificial respiration. And tried to make Nigel promise never to try anything like that again. A promise Nigel refused to give, d despite Richard's pleading.

    Richard did not tell any adults what Nigel had tried, and meant to try again until he succeeded. The "code" among boys at school forbade it Instead, he stuck to the weaker boy like glue, a kind of permanent "suicide watch" - but despite all Richard's arguments about taking one's own life (which formed, in fact, the theme of the novel) Nigel was adamant. he would, one day, try again, and succeed.

    The forty-five (not fifty-five, for Richard had exaggerated the character's age for drama in the novel) was a glamorous, self-confident teacher. Somehow she had seen virtues in Nigel that no-one else saw. They had eventually embarked upon a relationship, highly unethical and unprofessional on the teacher's part. All one could say in its favor was that by the time the relationship ended (and unlike in the novel, no-one ever found out and the teacher was never taken to task) NIgel had grown into a self-confident, assertive young man, who could take his pick among girls, and the thought of suicide had never entered his head again.

    Richard gave Gabi a somewhat edited version of this, highlighting the differences between the novel and the real story on which it was based. He knew why he was talking so much, To put off the final agreement, embarking upon the thing he was to do with her, simply to please her father. But finally, he could put it off no longer...

    "All right," he said, opening a document on the laptop he always carried. "Let's hear your terms and conditions."
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  4. #14
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    As the saying goes "ladies first"

    I didn't know exactly what I wanted, or what I was expecting out of this. For all I cared I was doing it for my father's sake, and my own peace of mind, knowing that he would cut me some slack.

    I had the feelings that I was not going to be hurt by Richard, but one can never know.

    "I.. Don't want to be hurt… or hurt you in any way or shape… so when this gets too hard for either us, we will respect each other's decision to leave as long as it's okay by both of us", I said slowly, considering my first rule.

    "I am not sure what else to expect out of this… I was never really… been in such close relationship before… Can you give me some advices?"

    I had the feeling I could at least trust him a bit to hear his opinion, "Maybe if we do this by turns, like each of us will say what the other expect, turn by turn, then maybe we can come up with more points as we go?"

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    (Joint posting, Kris and Sy23)

    (Sy23)

    “OK,” Nugent replied, softly. “I doubt you'll hurt me. Anything in that line that's been done to me has already happened. But yeah... I can see why you don't want to be hurt. And I'll never do so if I can help it. You've got my word on that, for what it's worth. And, of course, you can get out of this any time you like. There's no way I could hold you to it if you didn't want to stay.”

    He began tapping notes into his laptop,

    “All right,” he said, turning the device so Gabriel could read the screen. He had drawn up a rudimentary spreadsheet, divided into twin columns. In one, he had typed “Gabi can walk away any time she likes. And Richard promises not to put pressure on her to stay.” In a second “Richard must do nothing to hurt Gabi. She can remind him of this promise any time she feels it is required.”

    In the other, right hand columns he had typed:

    “Gabi must accept that Richard may occasionally do things, or say things, for which her upbringing may not have prepared her, and not react with shock or condemnation.”

    and:

    “Richard must be allowed to play this game his way – whether Gabi's father likes it or not.”

    He grinned sardonically, and pushed the device towards her.

    “OK,” he smiled. “Your turn next.”

    --
    (Kris)

    "Okay…", I hesitated for a moment, considering what were the things he was referring to be doing. I didn't know how I felt about truly knowing the nature of those things, but at the same time I was curious. Was he dealing in drags? Or maybe he was going outside and hanging with women each night?

    I blushed heavily and felt uncomfortable thinking of this. I was still inexperience and any things regarding it felt somewhat awkward.

    "I would like to be given moment of privacy when needed, and I would like to not be treated like an afterthought… for example if you have errends but we need to be seeing together… I mean… we will act as couple… please also try to understand… I am not very sure around guys… so… I would like our touches to be… considered", I pointed at my lips, "Please go easy on me".

    Not that I didn't like it. I even smiled, but it was still weird to be kissed out of the blue.

    (Sy23)

    Richard was, just for a second, somewhat disconcerted by Gabriel's final condition. It had to be said that, in the manner of dating virgins, he was something of a virgin! He was used to girls far more sexually confident, far less inhibited, than Gabi. He was used to kisses being returned enthusiastically and happily.

    The problem was not, however, just one of self restraint. Lecherous and libidinous he might have been, but he was not entirely devoid of respect for women. Had he been dating Gabriel in the conventional manner, he would simply have gone along with her request. It wa sher choice, he would have told himself, when and how she was kissed!

    But this was not like that.

    He was not dating her, but acting a role with her. Their job was not to enjoy themselves, but to convince the press and public they were an item. To do this he had to make his (imagined) feelings obvious. yet, how this was to be done exercised his mind considerably.

    He wasn;t sure if his next strategy would work or not, but it had to be tried. He reached across the table, and took her hand, gazing into her eyes - which were, he had to admit, very pretty indeed. If he could not "sell' their pretend relationship by hot kissing, he might do so by the trappings of romance. He lifted her hand to his, and gently kissed his lips across her wrist.

    "Youa re so beautiful," he whispered, yet shaping his mout so that anyone observing could lip-read his words. "I love you so much, Gabriel."

    Then, whispering so no-one else could possibly hear.

    "How's that?"
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  6. #16
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    I blushed instantly and without realizing why I got up, my ears burning red.

    "It's... it's good", I said without thinking clearly, "Give me a minute", I simply ran to the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

    Heaven forbid, it was as though I just realized what I was getting myself into for the first time. I didn't want him to think badly of me and my poor display of behavior but it was becoming too fast for me. I blushed and as much as I tried to wash my face, I couldn't reduce the heat on my cheeks.

    To think he was acting this good. It was hard to comprehend. It was like listening to such soft and pleasant words and I felt like I was undeserving of any of it.

    I tried to compose myself as I slowly walked back, sitting by his side, not daring to look at him, for how much of a child I was acting, my blush, I could tell without looking, was still visible and my ears were burning.

    "I'm sorry, let us continue please".

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    Richard had hoped for some "rehearsal time" where he and Gabriel could work out the details of their deception. He was to be sadly disappointed in this respect.

    Irma Stein, one of the Dispatch Clerks in Emmanuel Robinstein's company, had ambition. She had no wish to remain a mere menial. Her aim was to become, one day, a top selling journalist, a regarded member of the Paparazzi, a person whose exposes and exclusives made her name renowned.

    So far she had never had either the ability or opportunity to realize her dream. But now...

    Here, just a few tables away, were Richard Nugent, world famous novelist, and Gabriel Robinstein, daughter of one of the nation's top publishers. And... in a situation that could only be described as romantically intimate!

    Before she even knew what she was doing, her instinct had taken over. She had surreptitiously snapped a number of photographs on her smartphone, including the one where Richard had kissed Gabriel's hand. And, when they had got up to leave, had followed them, taking more careful shots.

    *****

    Newspaper article:
    Tel Aviv Courier
    The following morning:


    CONTROVERSIAL AUTHOR'S NEW SQUEEZE
    Who is the mysterious, blushing beauty?
    (By our special correspondent)

    Richard Nugent, author of the controversial, and soon to be filmed
    Jests has always been known to be something of a lady's man. But now, girls, it's time to get out those handkerchiefs. It seems the nation's most eligible bachelor has been taken. There can be no doubt, after he was observed with a mysterious lady, never before seen among the town's Beau Monde,but whom our research has revealed to be none other than...

    (The article went on to state Gabriel's identity in full detail, together with some subtle and far from flattering hints about her lack of sophistication and worldly experience. The general tenor of the piece gave a strong indication Nugent was suspected of attempting to seduce the innocent Gabriel purely to further his career in Robinstein's company.)

    It was accompanied by a good selection of Irma's somewhat blurred, fuzzy shots. Not so blurred and fuzzy, however, that Gabriel's far from expertly styled hair, nervous expression and badly fitting dress were not obvious to the reader. One rear shot in particular dwelt on the way the dress was sticking to her at the rear, hiking up to show what (to Gabriel) was a somewhat immodest amount of leg, and with more than a hint of her far from chic underwear showing through the material of the dress. Some far from flattering comments about her wearing Spanx and needing the services of a good dressmaker were added after the spread of pictures.

    *****

    Reading the paper in bed the next morning, Richard was both amused and upset. Amused at the fact that the little deception was working... but aghast at the effect it might have upon the sensitive Gabriel.

    Abandoning work for the morning, he jumped into his car and, driving even faster than usual, hightailed it around to her apartment. There was nothing in their arrangement allowing him to visit her in her private space... yet this, he felt, was an emergency.

    He hurried out of the elevator towards her door, the newspaper clutched in his hand.
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  8. #18
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    I never saw father so happy before. Well aside of the time he won against mother on the court when applying for shares of his publish houses. He still lost two cars though.

    When he noticed my expression his mood changed altogether but I had the feeling he was still somewhat happy.

    "We need to talk…", he said and I sighed, knowing that something big was up for him to not go straight to work.

    ***

    "WHAT!", I screamed, "How dare them!"

    I think I could have handled the critique against my clothing style, or even the fact people bad mouth me, or even hinted at my underpants showing (I still blushed), but I couldn't stand the fact people were speaking so ill of Richard.

    "This is horrible father, We gotta to-!"

    "No!", he said at once, grabbing both of her shoulders, "We must endure!"

    I bit my lips as I dropped my gaze. It was so invading and I figured I would have no privacy, but it meant so much to him, "I need Richard's number, to tell him I'm sorry…"

    It was the least I could do. Father flipped his mobile and sent me the number and I dialed, "Hey Richard, I am not sure if you read the paper today… it's bad…. I'm sorry you got dragged into this… If you want this to stop let me know… I don't want your name to be ruined".

    I held myself from crying in front of father.

  9. #19
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    By the time Richard received Gabriel's call, he was already at her door. Thus he experienced the comic situation of speaking to her as he entered the apartment.

    He looked up to see the glowering face of Robinstein.

    "How dare they?" Robinsteinn growled, flinging the paper to the floor at Richard's feet. "How bloody dare they?"

    "It's what the press do," replied Richard, calmly. He didn't bother to pick the newspaper up - he had already seen the article in question. "Now the question is, what do we do about damage control?"

    "I hope and trust you aren't planning to cry off," Robinstein said, menacingly. "Just because they've trashed you a bit. We had a deal , in case you've forgotten."

    Richard sighed.

    "Have you actually read the bloody thing?" he asked, irritated. "Or even looked at the pictures? Seems to me it's not me that's been trashed..." He did not add don't you give a damn about your daughter's humiliation, but the unsaid words hung in the air. He looked across at Gabriel, who, it appeared to his perceptive eye, was on the very verge of crying.

    His heart went out to her and he walked quickly across the room and took her in his arms. Since she was in her nightgown it was probably exceeding the brief of his assignment, but he didn't care right now. "Don't take any notice of what they said, Gabi," he said, soothingly. "You are a beautiful woman. The tabloid press just like to squeeze every bit of scandal they can out of the story." As he embraced her the thin, shoestring strap of her nightgown slipped off, and without even thinking what he was doing, he replaced it. "You looked beautiful. There was nothing wrong with that dress at all."

    Robinstein glared at him, and the way he was interacting with his cherished daughter.

    "This is not a good start!" he hissed. He looked at Gabriel. "Wouldn't I know you'd make a mess of it? Looking so ridiculous in public? You're your mother's daughter, all right."

    Richard looked at him, shocked at his vitriol.
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  10. #20
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    I hushed. Father had a point. It was bad that I was clumsy and poorly presented, but having another to fix me, and a man on top of it all.

    Mother was so depended of father, no one ever thought she'd leave. That was a shock for everyone and I don't think father ever recovered.

    Still, as much as I knew his attacks were not personal, I know this hug of Richard was not proper. I tore myself from Richard and tried to fix my dress, the red line marked all over my face. It felt amazing, he was so warm, and I knew my body reacted to his touches.

    I looked at father and thought to myself: 'I would leave you like she did if you keep like that…'

    "I need to dress myself better", I chuckled, "Father, please, even though you are my blood, it is not decent for you to be here…", I looked at Richard. I wanted him to stay.

    "I will see you at work?".

    He tried to protest but I slowly pushed him outside. He protested and said it was not decent and that I was acting like a whore but then I screamed at him and told him that if this whole thing needs to be endured then I must work the details with Richard. He was unpleased, but really had nothing good to say.

    He slammed the door and didn't say another word, and I waited until I heard his car driving away.

    I sighed and started to cry and laugh at the same time. I never felt this free, but then I realized I was alone with a man… and hardly dressed.

    "EXCAUSE ME!", I said as I rushed upstairs to dress properly.

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