Under My Boss's Direction

He left me to soak while he went down to the kitchen to make something to eat. After a while, hair still wet, but swaddled in the softest silk robe known to man, I headed out to join him. He instructed me to sit at the table and I watched as Ryan approached, plates in hand. His dress sense was much the same over the last few days, the only real variance was the density of his jeans, ranging from soft denim to hard, and the color of his sweater. Still more than the diversity of his tweeds, the entire gamut seeming to run from mustard to topaz.

Further evidence of which of his two personas Ryan was more comfortable in. Overall, it seemed he made the political incarnation work for him, doing what was expected in an unexpected way. There was a particular, rebellious joy to be found there. Particularly when one was used to the beat of one’s own drummer.

Even so, I wanted to get to know him, to learn about him. There wasn’t much about his family that was widely available. Either by accident or design, though he did have the air of breeding about him. Repressed as it might have been. Still, sit him down at an aristocrat's table, and I would bet every dime that I had that he would know exactly which fork to use.

“Would you like to go for a swim?” he asked suddenly.

“Now?”

“After breakfast. At least half an hour after just to be safe.”

“Sure, I mean I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Not a problem.”

“Really? What if someone sees? Someone other than you, I mean?”

“Not going to happen. I own everything, between the highway and the mountains. Most of it is used as public use land but this section, the one with the house and the lake, all that, is for my personal use. There is an entrance to the public area further up the highway. But there’s a fence between there and here.”

“You bought land?”

“It’s a great investment. Highly unlikely to significantly depreciate in value. I also bought it off some tycoon who was holding it all for himself. It filled me with an almost perverse pleasure to open Owens Park. I’m one of those odd folk who thinks nature, for the most part, should be for open use. If you want to own a bit for your own fine but this loon, the one I bought it from, held over twenty-thousand acres for his personal use. It was insane.”

“How many do you have?” I asked out of curiosity.

“About three-thousand acres, most of which is taken up by the lake. The other seventeen went to the park.”

I couldn’t really fault his arithmetic. Three-thousand acres sound like a hell of a lot, but not in comparison to twenty thousand. More than three quarters of that prime, beautiful land was in the public domain. A near-heroic act of selfless altruism in terms of the overall economic climate.

“That’s not much.”

“It’s what I need. I grew up in a family that was richer than God but still wanted more. I’m something of a black sheep. Trying to use my power and influence for good.”

“A benefit of which, skinny dipping is an option,” I clarified.

“Absolutely.”

I hadn’t dressed after the bath, and I couldn’t deny the convenience of going straight from the house into the lake without the usual changing in between. Even though I’d been there for a while, we’d had yet to go down to the dock, which I could see from the kitchen window. I was to do what Ryan wanted however and that morning at breakfast was the first time he’d broached the idea.

The dishes done, one of the few shared chores in the house, we went out onto the porch to wait for the conventionally appointed time. I didn’t quite have the heart to tell him just how much bullshit the half hour before swimming was. An old wives tale, somehow believed by generations of gullible young wives despite the utter lack of any proof. Still, it was a nice day to be out in the sunshine, no matter how silly the reasoning that led to it.

Ryan took my hand, waking me from the light doze the gentle movement of the rocking chair had lulled me into. With the sure steps of an experienced hiker, he shepherded me down to the long dock, stretching out into the sparkling water.

With one firm tug, the belt of the robe gave way falling open around be, before dropping from my shoulders to the dock. The sun kissed me like a gentle lover, as Ryan unbuckled and removed my collar.

“Water isn’t great for leather,” he said, before I could ask.

I wasn’t sure if it was true, cows being covered in leather and all, but I wasn’t about to argue, it all felt way too good. Ryan stepped out of my way, symbolically setting me free, at least for a while. Allowing me the space to get a run at it before cannonballing into the sun-warmed water.