Chapter Thirteen - Claude Bastille - Tuesday morning . Escala
It's raining hard and I don't feel like getting wet today. I decide to use Escala's gym in the basement. There's only one other resident exercising at this hour which is good…
Mrs. Jones has my breakfast ready when I'm out of the shower.
As I get ready to leave for my office, Gail approaches me.
"About what time should I plan dinner for you and your brother?"
"About seven."
She nods "I'll be ready." … "Goodbye. Have a good day, sir."
The rain is coming down in torrents when I exit Escala's underground garage. At least I'm dry.
The depressing thump-thump of my wipers is brightened by the thought that my photos will be couriered back to me this morning.
I step off the elevator into my lobby… Judith and the other girl… I really need to learn her name… jump up.
"Judith, I'm expecting a courier delivery this morning. If the parcel is dry… double the tip for the courier."
In my office, I switch the lights on bright. The sky is dark and grey with rain lashing the windows. I almost wish I'd worked from home today.
Judith emails me that the courier has delivered my package.
"Judith, bring the parcel in, please."
She places it on my desk. It's boldly marked "PERSONAL" and "CONFIDENTIAL." I really want to look at the prints… to see what they were able to do with my originals… and yes, to enjoy the physical beauty of the female form… I will not surrender my self control. I will look at the images in a more private setting. I leave the parcel sealed and drop it in my desk drawer.
I call my transportation head.
"Sam, I need to re-image Grey Construction." … "My brother Elliot runs it. I want job site signage and I want to upgrade their vehicle fleet." … "I need to understand the vehicles before I turn graphics loose on it." What I know about domestic trucks could fit on a pin head.
"Does your brother drive a SUV type vehicle or a truck? Is he moving tools and materials himself, Mr. Grey?"
"He drives a pickup with tool boxes."
"A Prius Hybrid is very ecco but a Hylander is still a hybrid but more practical if he wants a SUV. A hybrid is a visible ecological statement.
If he's a more hands on contractor, a deluxe pickup might be preferable." For working from a truck… possibly a utility body on a cab and chassis. There isn't a practical hybrid truck yet."
"A what?"
"A cab and chassis, sir." … "It's a heavy duty pickup front and frame with a contractor body on the rear with built in tool boxes. There are real deluxe versions and even custom bodies, sir." … "Another option would be a box truck. Some contractor's build mobile shops in them."
"Send me some images so graphics can start… and vehicle suggestions. I'll get back to you later today."
At ten o'clock I call a meeting with my in-house graphic artists about Grey Construction logos, and possible mottos.
"I have photos of possible vehicles. They should be in your inbox." … "I want rough draft sketches of logos and signage ready by end of day." I've set my team to work and I'll be ready to discuss branding and vehicles with Elliot tonight. I can move on to other items on my agenda.
I go down to Fred's fiberoptic lab. He's impressed with his friend's concepts. He wants to offer his friend time in our lab. His ideas should be patented.
I change into my shorts, tank top and don my custom made running suit in my executive washroom attached to my office. I run my fingers through my hair… that'll do. I stretch in my office looking out at my view of Seattle. At 4 o'clock, I get the text from Claude Bastille, my personal trainer, that he's ready for me. I take the elevator down to the GEH basement fitness center. The elevator stops numerous times with my employees getting on and off.
They all greet me, "Hello, Mr. Grey."
I return the greeting, calling each by name. "Hello, Sam." … "Hello, Margret." … "Hello, Henry."
The women in particular… looking too long, fluttering eyelashes… is off putting. Still, it's good for morale to mingle with the employees.
Claude is waiting for me when I step off the elevator. He's tall, at once lean but well muscled with long dreadlocks. He proceeds to push me through a brutal workout on the exercise equipment. He attacks the machines with all the subtlety of a primitive warrior brutally attacking with a spear. His black skin soon has a sheen of sweat as the muscles ripple beneath it. There are a couple of other employees there but they are intimidated and avoid us like the plague, lest they be drawn into our combat. There is the challenge in his every move to equal him.
We move to the multi-purpose room where Claude and I begin the mixed martial art of kick boxing. We circle each other looking for an opening to attack. We each feign several times. I grow impatient. I know Claude will critique impatience as a flaw but only if I am unsuccessful. I try to fool him with a feign before I charge him. I land a couple of jabs, he dodges my right, but I sweep him off his feet with my leg. Claude springs back up with the grace of a panther… and the hunter becomes the hunted. He's so quick I am forced to retreat. We grapple repeatedly. It is a test of mental and physical stamina. We are already tired from the workout. My muscles burn.
He attacks; I try to fight him off. I jump back but he knocks me to the mats. We've gone beyond our time. Claude grins his gleaming white smile, extends his hand to help me up. I take his hand and as I start to get up, yank him off balance in a summersault over me. No, it doesn't 'count'. We have each scored a take down… unusual actually. He doesn't give up points, easily… but then, neither do I.
"Next time, Grey", he growls.
"Next time," I reply back.
I leave Claude to shower in the locker room while I throw a towel around my neck and grab my track suit. I punch my override code in the elevator… and get an express ride to my office suite on the 20th floor. I do some stretches while I drip sweat on the elevator floor the whole way.
Judith greets me with a cold water bottle as I step off of the elevator. Of course, she gets a 'ping' when my code is entered in the elevator… which is another reason I don't use my code at times. If I don't use my code, they don't know I'm coming. I like to know what my staff is doing when they don't expect me.
"Do you need anything, Mr. Grey?"
She's already sent her assistant home but she won't leave unless I dismiss her.
"I'm going to take a shower before I leave. Will you be sure I have all the Grey Construction vehicle and logo information."
"Do you need a hard copy or is electronic sufficient?"
"Electronic will work." I can print hard copies at home, if needed.
"Everything is in your email."
"Good. Thanks."
In my Executive Washroom, I strip off my gym gear and step into the private shower. Outside of my family and my submissives, no one has seen me without a shirt. The hot water feels like it's burning me anew as it runs over the scars on my chest and back. It's not, of course. But it's an unwelcome reminder of the abuse inflicted on me as a child. I wash myself quickly. I'll tuck my workout gear into my Messenger bag to take home with me. Mrs. Jones is a laundry wizard. I've already noticed how nice all my towels feel at home. I vigorously dry my hair with the towel and run my fingers through it quickly. Yes, that will do.
I emerge from my shower to discover Claude, in his dark suit, sitting… no reclining… in my chair with his feet up on my desk. His eyes are closed as he dozes. I suppose that Judith let him in to wait for me. He's unaware of my presence but he's still alert, aware… he'll be up at the slightest sound, shadow or change in the light.
I'm aware my expensive Italian loafers aren't the best choice of footware for this, as I stalk him. I move slowly, patiently to cover my movement. At just the right moment, I spring the trap, kicking the chair to spin it out from under him.
My foot contacts the chair just so… my aim is perfect… but the chair doesn't react as expected. Half way through its spin, it is vacated, the springs straightening the chair which crashes to the floor on its front. I don't believe Claude ever touched the floor and has sprung to his feet like a panther ready to strike. He flashes me a wide smile. I realize I am grinning too.
Judith bursts into my office. Seeing the overturned chair she blurts out:
"Oh, my!" … "Mr. Grey! Are you alright?"
"Oh, yes, just little accident." I say, sipping some water from my bottle.
"Mr. Bastille?" He is straightening his suit, tugging at his cuffs. He looks very dapper with his contrasting shirt, open at the neck.
Judith rushes to the chair but I set it upright before she can reach it. She swivels the chair back and forth, inspecting it.
"I WILL have maintenance check your chair, sir. I'm so sorry! That shouldn't have happened. I can't imagine… Are you sure you are alright?" She's using her hands to try to dust it off.
"I'm sure it's nothing." She thinks she's in trouble.
I sit in my chair, swivel it back and forth a little.
"See; No harm done."
I pick up my briefcase from under my desk.
"The projects you asked for are all in your briefcase, sir."
I pop the catches. Judith, ever the good Personal Assistant, has big brown envelopes with the documents I'll want in my briefcase. I thumb through them; they are all in order. I can access any electronic files from home.
"Thanks. I can always count on you." I slide the envelope of photos into the expanding top section of the case. I snap the catches and roll the combinations… I always lock my case. I'm set to go.
"Judith, check my schedule for our next session" I say, which sends her scurrying from my office.
"Claude, I'll have Judith get back to you."
As we approach the door, I'm suddenly hit in the shoulder… like a hit by an NFL Linebacker. I lose my briefcase as my right shoulder slams into the door casing but I keep my feet. Bastille is grinning like a hyena. "Nice save, Grey." Claude picks up my briefcase in two hands and presents the handle to me. We have a truce as we ride the elevator together.