BoardResolution by Joey W. Hill

gratitude.
    “Jon. Proceed.”

Chapter Three
     
    “Can I have the lighting aimed at the center of the table, please?” Jon spoke, revealing that he was behind her. Directly behind her.
    If Matt was known as the fearsome Lord Kensington, Jon’s nickname was Kensington’s Archangel. Savannah remembered the first time she’d heard him speak and she, like everyone else, had done a mental double take. Words came from his mouth in such fluid, resolute tones that it was nearly impossible to imagine arguing with him over anything, even if he calmly indicated the sky had orange polka dots and grass sprang out of the ground purple. With the inexorable strength of water, he could break down financials into their most elemental pieces as quickly as he could an engine’s components, revealing every flaw, and not use any visuals to get complicated points across. In the most turbulent conditions, Jon could bring absolute silence and attentiveness to a room the moment he began to speak.
    But it was not just his voice that gave him that power. It was his expressions, his body language. He always brought to mind the words of Han Suyin : “There is nothing stronger than gentleness”. It was an honor just to agree with Jon, because he seemed to take so much joy in a person’s accord.
    The others teased him, because his passion was reading enlightenment texts. Not the new age and self-help works with their generalizations and crunchy granola messages carried over from the sixties. The ancient works of Eastern gurus or Greek philosophers. He would bring up excerpts during their meetings, amusing them all, but the observations were never trite. Savannah had noted that often those quotes served a purpose. With them, Jon gently reminded all of them that their negotiations to win more stock shares or acquire companies could never be treated as a Monopoly game. That jobs, livelihoods and local economies were involved. He provided perspective and, according to him, helped them all keep their karma slate clean. No one disputed it.
    There was a different kind of beauty to him. Slender, not tall, with luminous blue eyes and a black mane of silk that fell like feathers over his forehead and past his shoulders. Pale, for his interests kept him in offices and laboratories most of the time. Holding a dual Master’s in accounting and mechanical engineering, he could slip from one topic to another as smoothly as he now began to touch her with the cool firmness of his hands. Down the crease between her buttocks and lower, where she was still wet and dripping from her climax, something she’d chosen to ignore until he reminded her of it. The embarrassed flush on her cheeks was something she could not stop or hide, particularly when Jon’s request was met and the spotlight warmed her skin.
    Typically it was used to highlight marker boards set up on easels on the table. Now it highlighted every bit of data concerning her.
    She heard his footfalls as he came around the table, the roll of the chair a moment before she felt the touch of his hands on her face. He removed the mask’s blinder section so she could see. She blinked a moment, despite the dim light of the conference room.
    “Savannah, I’m so glad we decided to do this.” In his magical way, he almost made her feel like she’d had a hand in planning the evening. “I’d like to do something to give you pleasure, something I’ve invented. You’ll be the first woman I’ve tested it on, and I’d like your permission.” His long, clever fingers stroked her forearm, making her shiver.
    She was wrong. She had fantasized about these five men, in one way or another, for months. Matt had always been central, but they’d been steamy appetizers. They’d been her sex life, all in the realm of her mind.
    What does it do? Her eyes asked the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Of course Jon read it easily. Every man in the room was an expert at reading body language. Even with the gag,