Jonathan's Introduction to Business Chapter 1 Jonathan landed at LaGuardia Airport with two suitcases and a duffle bag. It was 4:30 PM on a sweltering July Friday, and he had to bulldoze his way through the crowd rushing to get out of town for the weekend. When he reached the taxi stand the line was long and their were few taxis in sight. Having been warned by his aunt he ignored the "limo" drivers offering to take him anywhere he wanted. He decided to share a cab since the line was shorter and appeared to move much more quickly. When the dispatcher asked for passengers going to the Upper West Side Jonathan stepped forward, bypassing about ten people in line. He found himself standing next to a stunning woman wearing a short black silk dress. She was tall with auburn hair that flowed softly over her shoulders. Her eyes were hidden by oversized sun glasses. The dispatcher led them to the next cab and helped the woman with her luggage as Jonathan threw his bags into the trunk. He entered the cab from the street side. When the other door opened Jonathan's eyes were drawn to the woman's long shapely legs. As she slid into the seat next to him her dress rode up above the tops of her black stockings. Her firm well tanned thighs were framed by the thin black straps of a garter belt. The cab was well air-conditioned and the woman sighed as she settled into her seat tugging her hem into position. Removing her sun glasses she opened her Mark Cross briefcase, took out her leather planner, and began to leaf through the pages. After a few minutes she began to make notes. Jon couldn't help but stare at her classic profile, green eyes and perfect tan. Her lipstick exactly matched the rich red lacquer of her fountain pen, which she rested on her lip, apparently lost in concentration. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. After a few minutes she returned the planner and pen to her briefcase and looked up. She looked over to Jonathan and quickly examined him, scanning from head to foot. It was obvious her alert gaze missed nothing. Taking in his khaki pants, green La Coste shirt, Sperry Docksiders, and lost expression she smiled. " Welcome to New York, is this your first trip?" she asked. "Yes," he answered, " I'm hoping to find a job here." "A new graduate?" she inquired. "Yes, Dartmouth, Art History." "You look like an athlete, were you involved in any sports at school?" she probed. "I ran the 400 meters in track". "Any good?" she challenged. "Our 1600 meter relay team set the Ivy record. I anchored." "Hmmmm, you are an athlete." Reaching across she offered her hand, "Joan Simmons". "Jonathan Richards, I'm glad to meet you," he answered as he took her slender hand. "What kind of work are you looking for Jonathan?" she asked. "I'm hoping to get involved in gallery management or perhaps work for one of the auction houses," he responded. "That sounds like an unusual career for an athlete, what made you interested in art?" she continued. "Well, my aunt works for Sotheby's. She got me interested in art and the art business." "I do some business with Sotheby's on occasion, what's your aunt's name?" "Lisa Scott, she concentrates on Oriental Art - wood blocks prints and the like." "I'm afraid I don't know her." "She is in Tokyo for the next six months working with a Japanese dealer. She's letting me use her apartment while she's away." "How lucky you are, finding an apartment can be the most difficult part of living in New York." They talked about art as the cab traveled through Queens and over the Triborough Bridge into Manhattan. She told him that she was particularly interested in photography. As they turned west on 96th Street the driver asked for their destinations. "312 West 73rd," they both answered at once. "My that is a coincidence," she said "we'll be living in the same building". She stared at Jonathan with renewed interest. They continued their conversation about art as the cab drove across town. Before they knew it the cab had pulled up at the building. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll put this on my expense account if you'll carry up my bags?" she offered. "Sure," he answered. She paid the fare then said, "I'm in the Penthouse". With that she headed into the building. Jonathan waited at the curb, perspiring in the heat, as the driver took out his two suitcases and duffle bag. These were followed by her four large pieces. The building was a five story townhouse that had been converted to apartments. Fumbling through his pockets he found the keys his aunt had sent him, and opened the front door. Propping the door open with his duffle bag he brought his bags into the hallway and then went back for the rest. It took him two trips, since hers were not only large, but one was extremely heavy. Grabbing his duffle he stepped into the building as the door closed behind him. Dragging the bags behind him he shuffled to the small elevator and pressed the call button. When it arrived he pushed all of the bags inside. His aunt lived on the third floor, so he decided to drop off his bags before delivering hers. When the elevator arrived at the third floor he propped the door open with the largest of her suitcases and found himself facing his aunt's apartment, 3-A. He fumbled with the keys, first finding the Medeco key for the deadbolt, then opening the slam lock. Inside the apartment was sweltering. The windows were closed and his aunt had been gone for almost a month. He walked into a short hallway with the bathroom on the right and passed the kitchen and dining area on the left. The living room was very large with a brick fireplace and a large bay window. He walked over to the window. In the semicircular area of the bay he had a clear view of Riverside Park and across the North River to New Jersey. Reaching down he turned the air-conditioner on high. Exploring the apartment he found two bedrooms, the larger obviously used by his aunt had a queen size bed, a dresser, and a large built in closet. A small window faced onto 73rd Street. Stepping back through the living room he went to the other bedroom which his aunt obviously used as an office. Against the front wall was a large desk with a comfortable executive chair. On a table next to the desk there was a personal computer and laser printer. One wall was covered with bookshelves. The other wall had a window facing onto an alley, with a colletion of photographs hung on either side. He saw a picture of himself in his track uniform. It was a print of a picture taken by a NY Times photographer when his relay team had set the Ivy League record at the Penn Relays. He began to think back to that day. The large cheering crowd at Franklin Field, ... over 40,000 people ..., he began to daydream. Hearing a sound beside him he saw Joan standing in the doorway glaring at him. "So here you are! I thought we had an agreement? You were supposed to bring up my bags. You've kept me waiting for almost half an hour! Even worse you've tied up the only elevator in the building. Didn't you hear the buzzing? I came down and found my bags sitting on the elevator with the door propped open and you daydreaming. Don't you know this is New York? How could you leave my things unguarded like that? What's the matter with you? You even left your aunt's door unlocked! Haven't you ever heard of crime?" "Gee, I'm sorry. I guess I lost track of time. I saw my picture there and couldn't help remembering," Jon answered. "Dreaming of past glory? That is no excuse. If you can't pay attention to what your doing you'll never make it in this town. Now hurry and bring up my bags, and don't dawdle," she commanded as she turned on her heel and strode out of the room. He could hear her heels as she walked to the elevator. Following her out, he turned to lock the door, then stepped into the elevator with her. She stared straight ahead ignoring him. When the elevator opened on the fourth floor she stepped out and opened the door with a small electronic key device, about the size of a lighter. As she strode into her apartment he dragged her suitcases out of the elevator into the small hallway. Grabbing two of the bags he followed her into the apartment and dropped them in her foyer. He then turned back for the other bags. Depositing them with the others he turned to leave but was stopped by her command, "Where do you think you're going?" "Here are your bags," he answered. "So your going to just dump them on my doorstep? What impertinence. First, you keep me waiting, then you just throw them in here. You have a few things to learn young man. We had a deal. I lived up to my part of the bargain now I expect you to live up to yours. Bring those bags upstairs." "OK." Grabbing two of the bags he followed her up the interior staircase to the second floor of her duplex penthouse. At the top of the stairs was a small bedroom. He followed her past a short arched alcove that led to a closed door, then into her vast bedroom. Adjoining it was a luxurious bathroom done in white marble. "Put that suitcase on the bed and hang the garment bag in the closet," she ordered. Following her orders he fumbled with the garment bag. Undoing the snaps he opened it and searched for the hook. It was in a zippered pouch near the top of the bag. He hooked it to the ring on top of the bag, stepped into the walk-in closet, and hung it on the rod. As he looked around he couldn't help noticing her clothes. Their were dozens of designer dresses, along with silk blouses, skirts, slacks, and numerous sweaters. But what really caught his eye was the back wall of the closet. It was covered with leather outfits in a variety of colors, although most were either black or red. "Hurry up and get the other bags," she ordered. "OK." He turned and hurried downstairs. As he picked up the last two suitcases he noticed that one was different from the others. It was very large and very heavy, a small steamer trunk covered in black leather. The other suitcases were a matched set of Hartman luggage. He strained as he carried the last two bags up the narrow stairs. At the top he was met and told to put the leather trunk in a recess of the alcove. He then followed her back to her bedroom with the last suitcase. "Put that one on the bed," she commanded. "I think we need to have a little talk. Why don't you go downstairs and wait for me while I change. There is some cold Chardonnay in the refrigerator. Open it and pour yourself a glass. Then wait for me." "Alright," he answered as he turned to leave the room. In the corner of his eye he could see her mirror and saw her begin to lift her dress over his head as he headed downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs he turned into her living room. The large space was painted a bright white. A vivid abstract rug covered the oak floor. A white marble fireplace and a bay window were the room's most notable features. After a quick glance around he headed for the kitchen. It was through the large dining room which apparently replaced the dining area and second bedroom in his aunt's apartment below. The kitchen was very large, for a Manhattan apartment, and very modern. The counters had all the latest gadgets. Opening the refrigerator he found it fully stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables, a supply of cheeses and cold drinks. Laying on the second shelf he found a bottle of 1987 Kendall-Jackson Vintners Reserve Chardonnay. He took it and began searching through the cabinets. In the center cabinet he found a selection of wine glasses. Below it, in a drawer, was a corkscrew. Opening the bottle he poured himself a glass and returned to the living room. Upstairs he could hear the shower running. The air conditioning was running full blast and the apartment was very cool, at least in the living room. He sat on the large black leather couch facing the fireplace. Putting his glass on the white marble coffee table in front of him, he examined the room. Above the fireplace was a large abstract painting with bold geometric shapes in black, white, and red. On either side of the fireplace were black and white photographic prints of different men in leather outfits, bound with chains. She had said she liked some of the more avant-garde current photographers, so he didn't think too much about them. As he drank his wine he couldn't help but look at them. Something about the photos intrigued him, but the also made him nervous. One of the men appeared to be in great pain, but it was also an expression of near ecstasy. After a time he heard footsteps on the staircase and saw her bare feet descend the stairs. He turned to stand as she entered the room. She was wearing a white silk kimono with a wide black sash belted around her waist. The lapels of the kimono crossed at her chest and the shape of her firm, full breasts was apparent. She was not wearing a bra so her nipples and the shadow of her aureole was just discernible through the thin silk. "Get me a glass of wine," she commanded. Her long raven hair was still wet and was combed straight. He stood and went to the kitchen. When he returned she was sitting on one of the leather Eames chairs with her feet tucked beneath her. Offering her the glass of wine he waited for her to take it. She looked into his eyes as she took the glass, tasted it, and set it on the table next to her. "Why don't you sit down," she suggested. He sat on the couch and faced her, waiting for her to speak. "You seem like an attractive and intelligent young man," she began, "but, you obviously have a lot to learn. New York is not a sheltered campus in New Hampshire. If you expect to live and work here you have to learn to think, and to fulfill your agreements - without daydreaming. Now, what did you think you were doing?" she asked. "I don't know. I guess I saw the picture and remembered the day it was taken. I must have lost track of the time," he answered. "That is no excuse. Did you realize that while you were daydreaming someone could have been stealing my things? Did you know there are some older people in this building. You tied up the only elevator for nearly half an hour. Don't you have any sense of responsibility to others? What are they teaching at Dartmouth these days?" she demanded. "I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time," he apologized. "I should hope so," she countered. Taking another sip of wine she looked at him thoughtfully for a minute. "Do you know anyone here in New York?" she queried. "No. Only my aunt, but she will be away until next January. A few of my friends from school will be coming in September. I wanted to get a jump on the job hunt," he answered. "But you don't know anyone here at the moment? At least not until September?" she probed. "No one," he affirmed. "Did you have any plans tonight ... or this weekend?" she inquired. "No, I just thought that I'd get to know the city a little. You know walk around, see the sights." "Why don't you join mr for dinner tonight? We'll go out and celebrate your arrival in New York. How does that sound?" she asked. "Gee, thank you, I'd love it," he answered. "Fine. Why don't you go and get settled in. Come back here at eight o'clock ... sharp," she said, dismissing him. He nodded, got up and went to the door. When she did not follow he let himself out. The door closed behind him automatically. He heard the lock click shut electronically. Back in his aunt's apartment he had a chance to look around. On the kitchen table he saw a note. "Dear Jonathan," it read, "Welcome to New York. I hope you had a nice flight. The super is forwarding my mail for me. The phone is working, but please just let the answering machine pick up. Wait to see if its for you before you answer. I've emptied the two top left drawers in my dresser for you, and you can use the left side of the closet. The sheets on the bed are clean, and you'll find towels in the linen closet. I'm sure you are looking forward to being a young bachelor in New York. Feel free to have any friends over if you like dear. Anyway I have to run. Good luck. I'll call in a few weeks to see how you are doing. Love, Aunt Lisa." Taking his suitcases into the bedroom he began to unpack. It only took a few minutes. He hung his two suits in the closet, but they clearly needed to be pressed. When he finished he looked at his watch and realized he only had thirty minutes. He didn't want to be late. Tearing off his clothes and grabbing his shaving kit he headed into the bathroom. Hurriedly, he shaved and brushed his teeth. He turned on the shower to let the water heat up. After adjusting the temperature he stepped into the shower, quickly lathered, and rinsed off. Grabbing a towel from the closet he hurriedly wiped himself dry. Returning to the bedroom he pulled on a pair of jockey shorts and a clean pair of chinos. He looked through his drawer and selected a blue Oxford shirt. Slipping his feet into his moccasins he checked his watch. It was 7:57 P.M. Brushing his hair back with his fingers he headed out the door, locking it behind him. Taking the stairs two at a time he was knocking at the door at exactly 8:00 P.M. He stood waiting for a minute, then the door opened electronically. "Come in and have a seat. I'll just be a second," he heard her voice from the intercom speaker. As he stepped into the apartment the door closed behind him. Walking into the apartment he sat on the couch to wait. After a few minutes he heard her walking down the stairs. She was wearing a short, simple but very elegant, black silk dress with a deep v neck that demonstrated her ample decolletage. On her feet she wore black patent leather pumps with three inch high heels over black silk stockings. A dazzling emerald and diamond necklace set in white gold with matching bracelets and earrings completed her outfit. "Hello again," she began, then seeing his outfit said, "No. That just won't do. We are going out to celebrate tonight, and that outfit just will not do. Don't you have a suit?" she inquired. "Yes, but they are pretty crushed," he responded. "Let me see them," she ordered. Jonathan hurried downstairs and returned with both of his suits on hangers. Taking the hangers from him she began to examine his suits. Holding up the blue one she said, " Try this one on." "Where should I change," he asked. "You can change in here," she answered leading him up the stairs into the small bedroom, flipping the light switch as they entered. Jonathan was struck by the strong scent of a floral perfume. The room was decorated with a very feminine pink print wallpaper. It had a double bed with a full canopy trimmed with white lace. The bed was covered with a pink and white coverlet with matching lace trimmed pillows. Sitting in the large Victorian armchair she asked, "What are you waiting for?" "Aren't you going to wait outside," he pleaded. " Don't be silly. We are in a hurry, we have a reservation to keep," she countered. Blushing, he slipped off his shoes and unzipped his pants. Then bowing to the inevitable he slid them down his legs. He folded his slacks and laid them neatly on the bed. Picking up the suit he took the trousers and slipped them on. Then stepping into his shoes he pulled on the jacket and turned to face her. After examining him carefully for a minute she reached her decision. "You look like a slob. Take that suit off and wait here for me," she concluded as she left the room. Removing the suit he stood waiting for her in his briefs and shirt. After a few minutes she returned carrying several hangers. "This Tuxedo should fit you," she said hanging it on a hook on the closet door. "Take off that shirt and put this one on," she ordered. Removing his shirt he stood facing her in just his jockey shorts. He took the dress shirt which was white with ruffled sleeves and lace trimming. As he tried to slip it on he realized that it buttoned in the back. Turning to confront her he said accusingly, " But this is a woman's shirt." "Yes, of course it is. Did you think I'd have a man's Tuxedo?" she rejoined. "If you are going to be in the art world your going to have to give up some of your bourgeois notions. I had thought that we could go out and celebrate in style tonight. Perhaps this whole thing is a bad idea? If you won't let me help you, if you won't trust me, then maybe you should just leave?" she challenged. " I didn't mean that. Its just I was surprised, you know?" he answered. "No, I don't know," she countered "will you do as I say form now on? Not question every little thing I do? If you can't agree to that I want you to get out now and not waste my time." "I'll do as you ask. I do want to stay," he pleaded. "All right, you can stay. Now hurry and get dressed," she directed. He to put his arms into the blouse then turned asking, "could you button me up please?" Stepping behind him Joan pulled the thin material together and began to button it. "That's better. Actually, this fits you pretty well. The ruffled sleeves give room for your arms and shoulders. It is tight in the waist though," she observed. "We may have to put you on a diet." When he turned to put on the pants she stopped him and went to the dresser. "I don't have any dress socks so these will have to do," she said handing him a pair of black silk stockings. He paled as he took them, then sat on the end of the bed in resignation. Slowly he began to pull one up his right leg. He was surprised at how soft and sensuous it felt against his skin. As he stretched the other stocking over his left leg he began to get stimulated. Noting his response she observed pointedly, "Now that isn't too painful is it? Why don't you stand up so that I can check the fit?" Slowly he complied, and stood facing her chair. Softly she stroked her hands up his calves and thighs stretching the flimsy material taught. He couldn't contain his arousal any longer, his manhood thrust visibly in his briefs. Ignoring his dilemma she looked at him and said, " All that body hair is very unsanitary, we'll have to do something about it. Those stockings will be very uncomfortable without something to hold them up." Returning to the dresser she removed a pink satin garterbelt and handed it to him. "Do you know how to put this on?" she asked. "No," he answered. "I will only show you once," she told him. Pushing him in front of the mirror on the closet door she pulled the belt around his waist and showed him how to operate the clasp in front, then rotate it to the back. She then demonstrated how to line up the garters and slip one of the grippers over the stocking top. "You do the rest," she instructed. When he finished he looked up and saw himself standing in a frilly blouse wearing black stockings and a pink garter belt. His jockey shorts looked strangely out of place. "Now hurry up and finish dressing," she ordered. Turning back to the bed he picked up the trousers and began to step into them. Then he noticed that there were no pockets and the zipper was supposed to go in the back. Turning them around he began to slip them on. He noticed that they were of a very light weight wool material but were fully lined. Tucking the blouse into the pants he pulled them over his hips. Reaching behind he clumsily tried to pull up the zipper. Afraid that he would rip them, she stepped behind him to pull the zipper closed. The pants were very tight, and, because they were cut for a woman, they squeezed his buttocks and painfully crushed his genitals. He groaned as she buttoned the waist. The trousers fit like a second skin. She then handed him the scarlet cummerbund which he quickly fastened around his waist. "Can you tie a bowtie?" she asked. When he answered negatively she stepped behind him and tied the matching bow tie around his neck. Returning to her chair she told him to put on the jacket so she could see how he looked. "Stand up straight," she ordered. "Actually, you look quite handsome," she concluded, "but, there is one final touch. Put these on, " she commanded. He took the shoes she handed him and examined them. They were black patent leather formal pumps, but they had two and one-half inch heels. Slipping them on his feet they were long enough but because they were narrow and pointed they were quite painful. "Perfect!" she announced, "Now go look at yourself in the mirror." Findidng it difficult to balance on the high heels he shuffled over to the mirror to examine his appearance. Actually, he looked quite good. Without looking very closely it was difficult to tell that anything was amiss. The Tuxedo did have a rather flamboyant cut, and the shirt was a little too frilly, but all in all it was passable. Even the high heels of his pumps were hidden by the pronounced break in the pants. "Hey this isn't too bad," he concluded. "I told you, you'll have to trust me," she rejoined. "Now, lets go, I have a car waiting downstairs. You'd better take my arm," she suggested. Balancing himself with her help they headed downstairs. She took a small black purse as they left the apartment. While he summoned the elevator she locked the door electronically.