Fireworks: British Babe vs. All-American Girl pt. 2
The feud between Samantha and Jackie grew worse. Jackie had wrestled control of the agency away from Sam, and she didn’t stop there. Jackie took the title of most talented local artist, top local businesswoman, and most beautiful woman in town, all titles Samantha had held before Jackie’s arrival. It was survival of the fittest. The gorgeous English tigress had her teeth firmly in the throat of our local red-haired lioness and seemed determined to drain the life from her. Sam fought back, hard. The redhead turned almost everyone in the office against their new British boss. Samantha led her little army in all-out revolt. Unable to suppress the rebellion growing against her, Jackie became a virtual prisoner in her own office, besieged and isolated. Jackie’s only goal was to break Samantha and dominate her. Samantha was equally determined to run Jackie out of town. I wasn’t sure who would be left standing in the end.
One evening, Jackie invited me out on a dinner date. When I eagerly accepted, Sam looked at me as if I was Benedict Arnold. From her perspective, I might as well have pinned back her arms and let Jackie pummel her. I didn’t want to hurt Sam, but after so many years spent in futile attempts to have a serious relationship with her, I felt I had every right to see someone new.
I learned quite a bit about Jackie that night. She told me how she had moved to London in hopes of beginning a fabulous career as an artist, only to be overwhelmed by the level of competition. Ambitious, demanding, wanting everything and wanting it all yesterday, Jackie moved to New York, hoping to do better there. When she struggled there too, she reluctantly took a job at the ad agency that came to own our company. One of the owners grew jealous of Jackie’s jaw-dropping beauty. The woman had Jackie sent off to the ends of the Earth, aka my hometown. Jackie confided in me that such jealousies had cost her in London, too. I began to understand her need to dominate other women.
After dinner, we went to Jackie’s lavish apartment. I came to know her very, very well that night. I discovered Jackie’s need for domination went beyond the boardroom. She could make a man obey her every whim, and have him thank her for it. I was struck by the differences between Jackie and Samantha. Samantha was a tomboy, while Jackie was a princess. Sam sweated until her bangs dripped. Jackie became moist, damp, soft, but she never seemed to sweat a drop. Jackie’s dove-soft skin, smooth as silk, seemed flawless. Samantha was warm and lovely, but hardly flawless. That night, I learned the difference between a beautiful woman and a goddess.
The next day at the office, Sam avoided me. She tried to act like nothing was wrong, but her confident swagger was gone. Her gum-smacking, tomboy attitude had been replaced by a meek persona. In the parking lot at the end of the day, Sam’s best friend from the office gave me quite a scolding for staying out all night with Jackie. I asked how she knew I had stayed out all night.
“I know,” the angry, thirty-something woman replied, “because Sam came to my house last night. She didn’t want to be alone. She spent half the night calling your place, hoping against reason you’d answer, praying you weren’t with her enemy. She finally gave up. I stayed up all night with her, as she sat in the middle of the bed, crying her eyes out!”
I backed away and drove off, stunned. Samantha had always seemed indomitable. She’d been the one who insisted we keep things casual. I wondered if the cocky, self-confident redhead could really have cried over the thought of losing me to another woman.
The gang at Karrkine’s was like a family. We celebrated holidays together. Not surprisingly, thoroughly British Jackie excused herself from attending our annual Fourth of July picnic. At least that was her plan, until she saw Samantha hanging all over me, promising me we’d make our own fireworks. Jackie was openly shocked by the attention I paid to Samantha. Although Jackie was a few years younger and in somewhat better shape, Sam was only in her early thirties, and was undeniably beautiful. Threatened, Jackie did an about face and announced she would attend the party. I saw the gleam in Sam’s eye. Everything was going according to her plan. The battleground was set.
A member of our staff owned a house overlooking the park where the fireworks were launched from. His huge backyard provided a perfect spot from which to watch the aerial display, but a privacy fence and thick bushes provided privacy at ground level. His kids were with his ex-wife for the holiday, leaving us free to go a little wild.
Jackie arrived late in the afternoon, wearing a conservative, dark blue top and white slacks. Sam chose a very patriotic outfit. She hadn’t worn it in years, but she knew I thought she looked good in it. The badly faded, red-and-white horizontal stripes on her skimpy halter-top stretched tight across her ample breasts. Having gained more than ten pounds since the last time she had worn the outfit, the tiny, star-spangled, navy-blue shorts she wore were so tight they looked ready to pop off.
With green eyes narrow and a hint of a satisfied smile on her lips, Samantha went in for the kill. She carried on a steady conversation about how America had trounced England in the American Revolutionary War. Jackie’s fists clenched, bristling at the steady stream of insults directed at her homeland. Samantha wasn’t interested in a serious discussion about American history. Her attacks were over the top. Jackie was her boss. If she wanted to force Jackie into relinquishing that advantage and fighting her toe-to-toe, she knew she had to push all Jackie’s buttons until she forced the Brit to the boiling point.
When Jackie uttered the slightest defense of her nation, Samantha laughed in her face. “Get over yourself! We won, you lost! We kicked your British butts until they were as red as your coats!”
Jackie bared her gritted teeth until the tiny gap between her front teeth showed. I had never seen her so angry. The beautiful Brit was a volcano, waiting to erupt.
Samantha pushed her last button. She swiped her arm over one of the food-and-drink-laden picnic tables our host had set up and pretended to ‘accidentally’ knock off a cup filled with cola. The cola splashed between Jackie’s legs. Eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief, Jackie looked around as her employees snickered.
Something unexpected happened. Jackie rose calmly. After excusing herself, she headed to her car and retrieved a small but quite expensive-looking bag from the back seat. She returned and asked our host if she might use his bathroom. After vanishing into the house for several minutes, the British bombshell trotted back down the walk to us. She had replaced her conservative clothing with a stunning, two-toned, bright blue string bikini! A British flag stretched out across her top, stretched almost into transparency by Jackie’s huge, perfectly shaped breasts. A tiny thong, light blue in front and dark in back completed her outfit.
Sam’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. By choosing such a skimpy outfit, Samantha had struck first with an impressive arsenal, but Jackie had gone nuclear! She stepped back, momentarily stunned into silence. When she backed into a table covered with food, she found a weapon.
Sam took my attention away from Jackie by bending over the table, showing off her fabulous hips. She looked back over her shoulder, held up a cupcake, and grinned. “You remembered! You used to call me ‘cupcake’ when we were kids, remember?”
Sam was effectively using our long history together as a weapon.
Jackie returned fire. She picked up a cupcake and said, “Nasty little things. They’re sickeningly sweet, and full of fat. They lack any real substance.”
Samantha sneered as her fellow employees chuckled.
Jackie added, “They can crumble all to pieces, if you don’t know how to handle them. Fortunately, I know exactly what to do with a cupcake.” Jackie chewed the cupcake up and then licked her lips, seductively.
People giggled. Sam’s upper lip curled up. Everyone knew Jackie was stating for the record that she could easily eat my little cupcake, Sam, alive!
Jackie sat down on a bench, leaned back until her head was in my lap, and had me feed her another cupcake. Boiling mad, Sam tried to regain her footing by attempting to elbow a bottle of cola off the table and down onto Jackie’s head. Instead, Jackie shot an elbow up under the edge of the table, causing the ice-cold soda to tip over the other way and splash out all over Samantha’s bare stomach! Samantha let out a high-pitched shriek.
Infuriated by her friends laughing at her, Sam grabbed a cup full of cola and stormed around the picnic table toward Jackie. The Englishwoman stood to meet her. Samantha threw the cola over Jackie’s British-flag-covered breasts! Outraged, Jackie threw a cup of lemonade into Samantha’s red-and-white-striped top. The two beautiful women glared at each other, fists clenched, teeth bared, standing toe-to-toe. The gloves were finally off. The fight was on!
To Be Continued….
