by Rue Chapman
Sometimes too much of a good thing is really NOT a good thing at all.
Take Mother Nature for instance. She can be far too generous at times. Height for example: a certain amount of height is a good thing, but it's not easy being the tallest kid in school when you're barely ten years old, and a girl. Then there's hair. Long and luxuriant is fantastic... but not when it's also wildly fluffy and mouse-coloured. Intelligence is a blessed gift, but being fiercely intelligent, and skipped several grades, and still being smarter than the rest of your class who are now two years, or more, older than you and being beaten flat by a little kid; that's a very mixed blessing. And when a girl's figure starts developing, well, bouncy isn't always best.
But Nature also keeps things in balance, by adding eyesight so poor that it needs glasses like the bottom of coke bottles; buck teeth and years of braces and acne; and, as the cherry on the top, a name like Myrtle.
Myrtle wasn't on track to enjoy her school years.
The one ray of sunshine and sanity was Dudley. Dudley was also a grade-skipper, he was intelligent and young and weedy and a natural victim for the entrenched bullying that's regarded as 'just a natural part of growing up' by everyone who hasn't been the designated target. He was also, from an early age, perfectly sure of his sexual orientation. Being very gay, and outrageously out, in school isn't a survival factor. But Dudley was also viciously wasp-tongued when necessary, able to slice fiercely into every insecurity and lay bare the deepest fears of any bully who wanted to start name calling. And if a verbal barrage wasn't enough protection, Myrtle would step in; she was a state champion in Tae Kwan Do (her parents' attempt to 'bring her out of herself'. Not naming her 'Myrtle' would have been a better choice.)
Dudley and Myrtle, two kids whose parents should never have been allowed to name a family pet, let alone a child. Dudley and Myrtle, two misfits who stuck together. It made school survivable.
After school they both went to university and studied law. They shared a small, cheap, tatty apartment which Dudley and his friends redecorated and refurbished. Dudley had a wonderful social life and still managed to get through his exams. Myrtle studied hard and did two degrees at once, passing both with honours.
When they moved into the post-university world, they shared an increasingly upmarket series of apartments and houses. They enjoyed house sharing. Old friends know you better than anyone. They nag better, too.
"Mattie, you have to go. He's our boss, and an invitation from him is like an order from anyone else."
"Nobody will notice if I'm missing. They never notice when I'm there."
"And whose fault is that? I keep telling you, I can make sure they'll notice you."
"I don't WANT to be noticed."
"You want a certain person to notice you."
Myrtle sighed. Dudley's friendship and being invisible had got her through school pretty well, but to succeed at work you need to be noticed. And to succeed with men you need to be noticed, too. By Tom Winston, for example. He was the latest addition to the firm, a new partner already, a wonder boy who dazzled in the courtroom. And he was pretty dazzling at any other time, as well.
Dudley was also a superb courtroom lawyer, his years of slicing verbally into the school bullies was great practice for cross examination. Myrtle didn't like the courtroom, but she was an expert on contract negotiations and behind the scenes work. She'd actually worked with Tom Winston for the past two weeks, preparing his latest case. And, for a wonder, he'd seemed to see past the fluffy hair and thick glasses and the perpetual stoop that she'd developed to try to hide her height and her embarrassing figure. He'd praised her knowledge and joked with her until he coaxed out her shy smile.
Tom had also picked up the pet name that Dudley used for her. 'Mattie' sounded far nicer than the hated 'Myrtle'.
"Hi Mattie, I'm Tom, I'm the new guy. Dudley tells me that you're the expert on contract law. I wanted to pick your brains on this contract here, it's the basis of the case I'm fighting."
When Myrtle met a new person, especially an attractive male person, she was always tongue-tied. But a nice complicated point of law would bring her alive, and they'd been talking for half an hour before she realised it. She'd actually smiled at him. And he'd smiled back. Myrtle froze, muttered an excuse and fled.
But he kept turning up in her office, asking for help. "Mattie, I can't remember the reference for this, can you help me?" Of course she could. "You've saved me hours of searching, how about I buy you lunch as a thank you?"
She mumbled a panic stricken refusal and scuttled away.
After several refusals he marched into her office with a platter from the gourmet sandwich shop on the ground floor of their building. "If you won't go out to lunch with me, we'll have it here."
"What? No, there's no need, truly. I'm not -"
"Eat, woman. Stop twittering at me. You really do need someone to help you focus, don't you?" He handed her a sandwich. "Now eat, young lady."
Myrtle shivered at the words, but it was just an accident that he'd used them, surely. And the lunch was actually fun, as long as she could forget she was with a handsome man. Besides, he only wanted her help, nothing more.
Tom seemed to need her help quite often.
He'd wandered into her office the other day. "Mattie, this reference here, I can't quite make out the page number."
She squinted at the note. "Um, it's 206."
"It is? Honestly you deserve to be paddled for your handwriting."
Her heart missed a beat. But that was just a figure of speech. Surely. It was just an accident that he'd used words that had extra meaning in her deepest darkest fantasies.
Tom watched her reaction, saw her lovely violet eyes widen as she blushed. Yes, there was definitely a response, he just hoped it was interest or even excitement, not distaste. He'd felt a thrill the moment he met her. She was so attractive and didn't seem to know it; he loved the way her glasses would slip to the end of her nose and those lovely eyes would smile shyly at him when she was working. And her height, when she stopped trying to hide it and stood up straight she was wonderfully tall, just right for him. At 6'4" he was always the tallest person in the room. He was so tired of dating women who were barely chest height against him; he'd spent endless dreary evenings talking to the top of some woman's head. Mattie was the perfect height, and a sweet girl with a beautiful face and the promise of a good figure underneath all that camouflage she wore to the office. He already loved her shy smile and fierce intelligence, and her reaction to his comments was very promising. Tom found as many excuses as possible to ask for her help.
Dudley was delighted. "I've checked him out. He's single and the word is that he's a really nice guy. He plays for your team, too, which is a shame for me, but it's about time you had some fun."
"He just needs my help, he can't be interested in me. Look at me!"
Dudley looked. "You're a lot more attractive than you realise. And I could make you even better, if you'd let me. Fancy a quick makeover?"
As usual, the answer was a resounding no.
Every year the senior partner summoned them all to his beach house, for a day of fun and frolic and serious, impress-the-boss antics, including the obligatory swim in the pool or the ocean or both. A chance to strip down to your cossies and display all your figure faults to your co-workers. For Myrtle it was sheer torment. She usually spent the whole day hiding out in the kitchen.
On Monday Tom wandered into her office. "Mattie, how about I pick you up on Sunday and we go to the shindig together? You can show me the ropes."
Fortunately a phone call saved her from answering. She spent the rest of the day avoiding him.
Tuesday: "Mattie, what time would you like me to pick you up on Sunday?"
Mumble. Flee.
Wednesday: "I'm looking forward to Sunday, aren't you? It'll be great to see you away from this office."
Squawk. Run.
Thursday Myrtle huddled in the ladies' loo as long as possible. Maybe she could tell them all that she was sick. She could hear people wandering in and out; the place was gossip central for the female staff. Naturally she was too ladylike to eavesdrop on their conversations. But she couldn't help hearing every word.
"I've decided to make a move on him on Sunday."
"Isn't he keen on Myrtle?"
"Right. Like Myrtle the Turtle knows how to get a man, or keep him. Anyway, I don't want him for too long, just long enough to get me up the next rung on the ladder. Once I'm a partner I'll set him loose and he can run back to her. If he still wants her. What does he see in her, anyway?"
"Well, she's not that bad really. When she forgets to huddle and starts smiling she's all right, and if she'd just take a bit of trouble she'd be quite ok. And she's amazing when she's working, she knows it all!"
"Knowing things isn't important, that's what assistants are for. And I don't care how amazing she is so long as she keeps out of my way. Tom Winston is my ticket up the ladder."
Every office has an office bitch. Sonia Smythe-Palmer was their queen.
Myrtle didn't move for a long time after Sonia and her latest satellite had left in a cloud of self-satisfaction.
Myrtle had spent most of her life huddling, and hiding, and being invisible. Dudley had developed a viciously sharp tongue to protect them from the bullies. Myrtle took over when words weren't enough, that's when some very surprised thugs discovered that sweet shy Myrtle had a core of steel. Years of training at Tae Kwan Do meant that she could calmly and scientifically inflict an amazing amount of pain. And leave very few marks, too. Myrtle never fought for herself, but she was a controlled fury when she was protecting someone else.
Right now it would give her the greatest pleasure to dismantle Sonia Smythe-Snobby-Palmer. But this time the weapons had to be different.
Myrtle the Turtle was left behind in the ladies room. Mattie sailed out to do battle. She dropped her day planner on her assistant's desk. "Cancel everything I've got booked for Friday. Clear this afternoon too. Thanks."
She grabbed Dudley as he sauntered past. "I need your special skills. From now. Meet me at my car in ten minutes, and drop everything you've got planned for tomorrow."
Dudley smiled as he watched her stalk away. Whatever the reason, Mattie was about to do battle. This was going to be fun.
This time it was Mattie's turn to sail into Tom's office. "Hi Tom, I've been meaning to get back to you about this weekend. Thanks for the offer of a lift on Sunday, but something's come up. I'll make my own way to the party, we'll meet up at the beach house. Oh, hello Sonia, I didn't see you there. That's a nice blouse, it's new, isn't it? Pity they didn't have it in your size. Sorry about the transport hassle before the party, Tom, but you can take me home afterwards, ok?" She breezed out, leaving stunned silence in her wake.
It was only after she left that Tom realised how ambiguous that last sentence could be.
Mattie stomped to her car, glaring at a grinning Dudley. "Stop smirking like a loon, you've got work to do. You've got from now until Sunday morning to give me a makeover."
For the next two days Dudley gave instructions, dragged her from salon to boutique, and back again, and had a ball. Mattie obeyed orders and muttered. "Give him back when she's finished with him, will she? Use him to get a promotion and then stomp all over him. Hmph. Myrtle the Turtle? I'll turtle her. Thinks she can just pick him up as if he's HERS already? Just who does she think she is!"
Dudley drove to the beach house on Sunday, giving orders the whole way. "Now remember to stand up STRAIGHT, ok? You've got a great figure, stop trying to hide it. And it's no problem being tall, so is he." They both knew who 'he' was. "Speak clearly, don't mumble and then run away. Look straight at people. Smile."
"You've told me a hundred times already."
"I feel like a proud father."
"Well, if you're a good boy you might find one at the party. Keep driving."
"Promise me one thing. You won't go back to being Myrtle any more. You're Mattie the Invincible from now on."
"At least that has to be better than turtles. Are we there yet?"
Tom looked around. The 'beach house' was larger than most average homes, with a pool and spa beside the entertaining area, and a gateway right onto the beach. It had all the luxuries that told the world how important their owner was in the scheme of things. And it was a great object lesson to the guests: if you work hard in the firm, you too could have all these pretty toys.
Some pretty toys are more available than others. Sonia homed in on Tom. "There you are! I thought I'd lost you."
"Me too. But here you are again." He tried not to grind his teeth.
Dudley made his usual entrance with a flourish. "I'm HERE everyone! Now the party can begin!"
Sonia smiled, or at least showed all her teeth. "Oh goodie, it's Duddles. And I suppose he's brought his dull little shadow along."
Nobody was listening to Sonia. Every eye was looking past Dudley to the newest arrival. Several men appeared to be drooling.
She was tall, statuesque, and beautifully proportioned. A silken sarong clung lovingly to every curve, a job most of the men there would have happily volunteered to do. The purple tones of the sarong seemed to be reflected in her violet-coloured eyes, although most of the audience hadn't reached the eyes yet. Long hair with golden highlights fell in soft curls to her waist. That slender waist accentuated her rounded hips and full breasts. She surveyed the audience, smiled sweetly and glided towards Sonia and her prey. "Tom, I'm so sorry I'm late, were you too bored while you waited for me? I really need a firm hand to keep me punctual, don't I! Am I too late for a swim before lunch? I'd better say hi to the host first, can you take me over there?"
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