Measuring Up: Swallowing Pride

It felt a bit like déjà vu when I climbed into the black limousine to find Joseph Candle waiting for me. Only this time, I was dressed as professionally as he. I smiled, not quite surprised to find him. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept.

“Good morning.” He said.

“Good morning.”

I attached my seatbelt and regarded him carefully. The lines on his face suggested more than mere exhaustion, it was concern and with that realization came yet another; He was worried about me.

“I trust you slept well?” He asked.

“I did, but I’m quite certain the quality of my sleep is about the farthest thing from your mind.” I said.

He chuckled.

“You remind me of…well someone I knew a long time ago. She was also good at seeing right through me.”

His admission clicked a piece of the puzzle that was him, into place for me. Suddenly, I understood a little more about why he had picked me. I wasn’t just a random face in the crowd to him. Whoever she was, I reminded him just enough of her to make the pain of losing her a little more bearable. It was sad and yet inspiring at the same time.

“You’re worried about our trip.” I said.

“It should be uneventful.”

“But?”

“Most don’t believe the compass exists.”

“So if we find it there could be trouble.”

“Hopefully not.”

“Then what is it?”

His brow furrowed for a moment before relaxing.

“You.” He said.

It was an accusation mired by admiration and the paradox was written all over his face. If he had been my mother I would have reacted strongly to the accusation and ignored the admiration entirely, but for some reason I was inclined to give him more leeway.

“Is it something I might do or something I might figure out?” I asked.

He smiled

“Perhaps do is the right choice, but I think not in the manner you mean.” He replied.

“Oh? Then how is it meant?”

“I had a lengthy conversation with Dr. Michaels.”

“Does he engage in any other kind?”

Mr. Candle chuckled again.

“No, I suppose he does not. However, this conversation was somewhat specific to you.”

“I see. I have endeavored to treat him with as much delicacy as I’m able, but he can be quite impossible to please.”

“Dr. Michaels is indeed, shall we say difficult?” Mr. Candle said.

I nodded slightly less than emphatically.

“However, his diverse historical knowledge and his years of archeological field work are quite rare.” Mr. Candle continued.

“I have no doubt he is a singular individual.” I said.

“Yes, that being the case I’m sure you can appreciate the need to placate him on certain matters.” Mr. Candle said.

I rather suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“I’m not certain I follow your thinking.” I said, hoping it was more the truth than the less I feared.

“Allow me to give you some advice.” Mr. Candle offered.

“Of course.”

“When Dr. Michaels gets into a tirade, it’s usually best to let him rant without arguing.”

I bit back the argument forming in my head. It would only serve to impress the point Mr. Candle was making anyway.

“Also, it would be best not to contradict him on matters for which he is an expert.” Mr. Candle said.

“Even if he’s wrong?” I replied.

The question had left my lips before I could think twice. I swallowed an urge to be embarrassed.

“If he is wrong, I suggest you have irrefutable proof of the fact first. He is a reasonable man when evidence is presented, but simply not sharing his opinion does not make you right and him wrong.”

“I never suggested it did.”

“Forgive me. I am trying to avoid ambiguities.”

“So basically you are telling me to walk on eggshells around him.” I said.

“Just until the two of you get to know each other better. I suspect in time you will each find more than enough cause to respect each other.”

“Alright. I can manage I think, but only so far as historical matters are concerned. He obviously has the empathy of a mule and I won’t trust his judgments on the motivations of others.”

“I understand.” Mr. Candle said.

He seemed a little less stressed, but it was hard not to notice there remained a nervousness about him. It was not something I really expected from him.

“Was there something else?” I asked.

Mr. Candle cleared his throat.

“Dr. Michaels felt you should be disciplined for you behavior around him over this past week.”

“What?” I nearly choked on the word.

“As I said, it is sometimes necessary to placate Dr. Michaels.”

“Maybe so, but that is ridiculous. I was merely doing what was asked of me this week. It is not my fault he took offense to the project.” I said.

“I agree, but I do not believe any harm would truly be done by making him believe some discipline had occurred this morning.”

Relief flooded through me and it was only at that moment I realized just how tensed the concept of being spanked by Mr. Candle had made me. It was hardly a question as to whether I would prefer a little pretense to the actual act.

“I see. I think I can manage the appropriate attitude. I’ll apologize when I see him and hopefully that will be the end of it.” I said.

“Just please hold back any annoyance should he perchance begin to gloat.” Mr. Candle said.

I flashed a wry grin at the thought.

“I’ll bite my tongue, but if he goes too far, I’m not responsible if he falls out of the plane at 20,000 feet.” I said.

Mr. Candle chuckled.

The limo pulled right out onto the tarmac and right up to the steps leading to the corporate jet. Kyra was standing at the top of the steps wearing her typical navy skirt and blazer with a dark gray blouse underneath. From a distance I almost mistook her for a flight attendant. As the car came to a stop I bid Mr. Candle farewell and stepped out into the morning.

As I closed the limo door and took my suitcase from the driver, I noticed Dr. Michaels walking up. He looked rather smug and quite full of himself. Inwardly I groaned, but I held up my end of the deal. Gingerly, I rubbed at the seat of my skirt and donned an expression as close to contriteness as I could manage. Dr. Michaels smiled wider, taking notice.

“Good morning, Virginia.” He said.

“Good morning.” I said. “Um, Dr. Michaels?”

He paused in his purposeful stride and turned toward me with an arched eyebrow. I was frankly amazed at how innocent he was playing. I guess he’s one of those dark personalities that avoid direct confrontation but savour the secret maneuvering behind the scenes.

“Did you need something?” He asked.

“Um, well I just wanted to apologize for my rude behavior over the past week.” I said.

It was hard but I managed to get the words out without choking on my tongue.

“Did someone get their tushy paddled?” He asked.

If I hadn’t known he was talking to me I would have assumed he was questioning a toddler. I thought about standing naked in the middle of survival camp and succeeded in bringing on an appropriately pink hue to my face.

“Maybe we could try starting over?” I suggested.

“I believe I asked you a question.” He replied.

I couldn’t believe his nerve. Here I was supposedly with a sore backside, deflated ego, apologetic attitude, all of it because of him, and he wants to make power plays over stating the obvious. I swallowed it all though and did what had to be done.

“Yes.” I said.

“Yes what?”

He was really trying himself and my patience.

“Yes, sir.” I said.

“No.” He replied. “I want you to tell me what happens to young ladies who have the audacity to be as rude as you were to me. I’m sure you can manage to say it or perhaps I should ask Joe to repeat the lesson right here in front of the whole team?”

I wanted to strangle him. I envisioned my hands around his throat and then my imagination betrayed me and instead revealed me bent over the hood of the limousine, skirt laying next to my head, and Mr. Candle raising the signature blue paddle aimed straight at my quivering buttocks. Embarrassing as the image was, none of it compared to the amused looks I imagined on Tom, Jack and Dr. Michael’s faces.

“Yes, I had my tushy paddled for being rude to you sir.” I said.

“It’s really too bad Joe let you put your skirt back on already. I was hoping to see the marks for myself.”

I blushed unsure whether he was trying to tease me or actually being serious and wanting me to walk around without my skirt on. I hoped for the former, seeing as it would be real hard to explain the lack of color on my lower cheeks. Fortunately, he simply turned and climbed the stairs without making any further comments. I paused for a moment wishing he’d accidentally slip and fall down the steps, but of course he didn’t.

With a last glance at the tinted glass concealing Mr. Candle inside the limo, I picked up my bag and climbed the steps after Dr. Michaels. Kyra gave my arm a supportive squeeze as I reached the top. It was only then I realized that the entire Q5 team was aware of my supposed spanking from Mr. Candle. As I pretended to gingerly take my seat, I wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to have actually had the real thing. At least then, I’d have the sting to take my mind off the embarrassment I was feeling.