Horny Little Women Pt9

Matthew Ryder sat in the lounge of his plush Makati apartment, contemplating the future – both near and far. With early evening approaching, the invite to lawyer Tino Sala’s dinner party occupied his mind heavily. Not the most gregarious or outgoing of young men, his father’s cosseting of the growing lad for seventeen years was primarily to blame. Indeed, socialising was a somewhat alien concept to Matthew. At least it had been, until the recent spell in England brought him out of his shell. But now, away from the bosom of his family and back in familiar yet unfamiliar territory, he’d quickly receded to the Matthew of old.

And there were more far-reaching dilemmas for the young man. As the days passed, he found himself torn between making a go of it in Manila where he had roots, property and security and returning home to England where he had four lovely sisters and a loving mother but little else of tangible value. And he could be fairly certain his four sisters wouldn’t be around forever. They had their own lives to live. He could uproot back to England only to find they had boyfriends – or in Jo’s case a girlfriend. Not of course that he could stand in their way of their futures. But unless there was some guarantee that every week would be like the one he’d just spent, he was reluctant to make the commitment.

Glancing around the apartment, Matthew issued an elongated sigh as one problem after another presented itself. A further consequence of his father’s passing away was the cessation of employment of long time housekeeper Mae-Lin. It had been her choice, not Matthew’s, who’d have happily kept her on, the decision facilitated by becoming the soon-to-be beneficiary of $17,000 from the old man’s estate, a grand for each year of her employment. A nice windfall, it would enable her to live out a comfortable and perhaps overdue retirement. Yet judging on the state of the apartment, that was no help to Matthew who needed to find a replacement quick.

And then there was his immediate financial future. A quarter of a million dollars was fantastic to inherit when he turned eighteen but there were bills to pay, taxes to meet and other financial penalties. Besides which it wouldn’t last forever. He could do with a new car, there was work needing doing around the apartment and he ought really to take care of his four sisters. The stark reality for Matthew was that he needed to find a job, and fast. For the longer he left it, the less inclined he’d be and the more his credit would be stretched.

But, for now, more immediate pressing matters were at hand, a combination of trepidation at facing an unfamiliar crowd mixed with the fear of the possibility of unrequited lust. A long hot and relaxing soak in the bathtub helped to wash away some of the apprehension and a more confident character emerged from the bathroom. Posing before the full length mirror in the bedroom and adjusting the bow tie, Matthew resembled a young James Bond in the black tuxedo. He turned aside in profile, closed an eye and held his thumb and forefinger in a gun shape. Heather couldn’t fail to be impressed by him, could she?

A warm balmy evening, he elected to forego the limo and walk to Tino’s apartment that stood on the marina, a stone’s throw from the work-in-progress that would one day become Ryder Tower. For now, it was a rubble building site surrounding a mesh of scaffolding and plastic that protected the metal and concrete skeleton from the elements. It was amazing to think that its completion would eventually secure his financial future.

Deliberately late in arriving, the uneasy young man was anxious to avoid being sucked into small talk or worse, be caught out of his depth in legal mumbo-jumbo. Yet the ploy had the reverse effect, his arrival immediately conferring upon him the unwanted role of the centre of attention. They were all anxious to pass on their condolences and wish him well for the future, speaking in tongues till his head was swimming. Thankfully dinner arrived and they could fill their mouths with food instead of homilies.

A small but select crowd, Tino had invited two fellow partners in the law firm, accompanied by their wives. In addition two young legal executives, one male, one female also represented the law firm. There was a respected yet crusty old judge and his equally crusty wife in attendance, the pair looking eighty if they were a day. A business associate that, it transpired, had known Matthew’s father had been invited along too, with pretty receptionist and potential love interest Heather making up the numbers. Matthew’s early reservations were soon swept away on account of a deep swig of wine, followed quickly by another, and the favourable seating arrangements.

Tino had ensured to place his new top client next to Heather who was looking utterly beguiling. Her outfit was simple: a one-piece white summer dress with a red and green flower print pattern that hung off the shoulder. Knotted at the apex of her breasts, it flared at the knee. She had elected to put her mane of dark hair up, held in place by two chopstick-like implements. Remembering his manners, Matthew pulled back the chair for her to sit on, rewarded with a reticent smile.

Immediately across the rectangular table, in direct competition, sat highflying legal executive Connie Truong. Heather’s opposite in more ways than one, her green chiffon gown screamed designer opulence. Her long flowing hair worn down the neck and back, Connie was the epitome of a strong-willed Filipina woman making a mark in this male orientated profession. Caught in the crossfire of conversation, Matthew felt a warm inner glow as each young woman vied for his attention between mouthfuls. Why he had ever worried, God only knew.

Occasionally he’d glance up to see Tino grinning from the head of table. The introduction of sex kitten Connie into the equation had given Matthew a real dilemma. Five two in heels, she was pencil slim and exuded confidence, the sort of girl that knew what she wanted and more importantly how to get it. Ultra-competitive in nature, she was quick to pick up upon Heather’s paucity of etiquette and uncomplicated demeanour, using it to put the other girl firmly in her place. Matthew really felt for poor Heather who was way out of her depth, though he was impressed at the dignity with which she handled herself. She was simplicity personified.

Connie, on the other hand, was a true enigma, verging on schizophrenic. She reminded him of Lucy Liu’s character in Ally McBeal, a real firebrand Asian go-getter. When she wasn’t toying with Matthew or verbally jousting and bitching with Heather, Connie would flirt unsubtly with the ancient judge who sat to her right. It was true what they said about power, it was the ultimate aphrodisiac, though Matthew was not without appeal, with good looks to go with the bank account-to-be. For Connie would have done her homework and be aware of his heritage.

Thankfully for Matthew there was the calming influence of Johnny Frio to his left to diffuse the overwhelming sexual tension and catty asides. A thoroughly engaging man in his fifties with an infectious passion for live, he claimed to have known Matthew’s father for well over a decade. As the wine flowed, so did the anecdotes, becoming ever more daring. The stories left Matthew both amused and dumbfounded in equal measure. Unbeknown to the young man, his father had been something of a player with the ladies over the years. Perhaps that was where Matthew’s own latent sexual proclivity that had been unleashed in England came from.

Yet it was another side to the multi-faceted Johnny that intrigued Matthew the most. A surveillance expert by occupation, he’d spent his working life among cameras, newfangled gadgetry and hidden lenses. He claimed to have caught more philandering husbands and wives than the Manila angling industry had caught fish. Since Matthew himself had aspirations to be a computer and techno wizard, not to mention haviing a passion for watching, they found themselves getting along like lifelong buddies.

Taking the young man aside after pudding had been served and brandy was being passed around, Johnny made a disclosure that caused the younger man’s jaw to drop. Apparently, prior to his death Matthew’s father had taken a stake in the business. He’d had enough of the high speed and cut-throat world of property development and wanted out before it killed him, he’d said. Sadly, he hadn’t done so soon enough. Out of respect, the pair exchanged purse-lipped, dewy-eyed expressions for the departed.

Yet Matthew’s mind was firmly in the present and more importantly the future, anything but the past. He wondered out loud what his father’s investment meant and could he perhaps become involved?