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had lent her a collection of magazines, called The New Rod Quarterly, where she could place ads and find a companion, possibly here on the Cape.
Alison didn’t have much faith in personal ads after all these years, but then again, she had never advertised directly in a spanking specific magazine. That concept in itself was mesmerizing and she poured over the ads in the back issues David Lawrence had given her with irrepressible excitement.
Freddie Johanson, 38, also a native of Random Point and the network manager for Braemar, was also into spanking. But Alison did not discover this fact until he answered the coded personal ad that she had placed in The New Rod Quarterly.
If he had known that it was Alison Albrect’s ad he was answering, this fact might have discouraged Freddie, because during the past several weeks he’d received the impression that the bursar’s smart young assistant didn’t care for him. He had felt her frowning at him more than once and this was strange to him – because females, young or old, straight or gay, conservative or wild, generally adored Freddie.
Freddie was as warm and expansive as Alison was cool and controlled, possessing, in her opinion, too much personality. He was a big man of at least 6’4” and rather well set up. Not handsome, but certainly charming. Too charming by half for Alison, who despised on principal anyone who wasted time in idle chatter during a business day.
Freddie did talk, often and on the slightest provocation. But most people enjoyed this about him. He was intelligent, good-humored, sympathetic, helpful, courteous and universally well liked, except by the grumpy and small. He was also highly competent, though Alison could not see how he managed to fit in any work at all in between the vast amount of socializing Freddie did.
In fact he held so many conversations as he went about setting hard discs to rights, that Alison could scarcely find a moment for a private confrontation.
Finally, on Friday afternoon, when everyone was packing up to go home, she knocked on the door of his office, entered and waited as he backed up some work, smiling at her but blessedly taciturn for once. Finally, when he was ready to give her his full attention, she floored him with the statement, “You answered my personal ad in the spanking magazine. Didn’t you?”
She held up the envelope she’d received from him the previous day, with his photo and a letter about himself. He gazed at it then her in amazement.
“So, what do you think we should do?” she demanded, adding hurtfully. “I really don’t think we should go out. I’m sure we’re not suited.”
For once at a loss for words, Freddie replied at length, “You never know. They say opposites attract.”
“That’s nonsense,” she declared, fussing with the snaps on her portfolio to avoid meeting his dark eyes.
“Right,” he agreed dismissively, beginning to pack his own briefcase. She saw she’d made him angry and this made her heart jump.
“I’m sorry, but I just have a feeling it wouldn’t work out,” she replied guiltily.
“I understand,” he returned indifferently.
“Well, good night,” she murmured, scarcely remembering when she had ever felt so uncomfortable with a man.
“Good night, Alison.”
She walked towards the door then turned, about to offer him his photo back so that he could send it to someone else. But something made her cram the letter back into her jacket pocket instead.
“Well, good bye,” she said once more.
“Well?” His look gave her butterflies.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked timidly.
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I mean, now that you know that it’s me.”
“I’d be happy it was you if I thought you didn’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”
“But you feel I’m not you’re type.”
“Right. And I’m sure I’m not yours.”
“What about getting together once, just for fun?”
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