Brad Wren Writes a Ripper Pt. 2, a short story by KiwiDreamer. Date added: 2012-08-29. Times viewed: 604.
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- Intro: Bron's charm warms author Brad Wren to her and he's more than interested in her sexiness.
The two guys came out of the house together, both looking freshly showered and wearing short-sleeved shirts and shorts and scuffs.
The shorter guy was Travis Thomas, co-owner of the large cattle-rearing farm than also carried just under 100 deer being raised for meat, and Bron recognized from photographs his companion was runaway author Brad Wren, who was carrying a bottle of white wine and a 6-pack of canned beer. Both stared at the visitor as if she were an intruder.
“Is she from the media?” the unsmiling Travis asked his wife.
“Don’t be rude darling,” Linda said, blowing him a kiss and she glanced at Bren and then drained her wine glass.
Bren swallowed and said in a heavy American accent to establish her nationality, “Hi Mr Thomas, I’m Bron Wilder from New York.”
“What the author of that book Linda gave me to read?”
“Linda recognized my name and said she’d read my book and so I guess you have looked at it.”
“I actually read it through over two or three nights. I usually don’t read female authors but your heroine was a tough nut and I’m thinking like the author perhaps.”
“And here was I thinking farmers were dumb,” Bren laughed and Travis and Linda laughed with Brad continued to look at her suspiciously.
“Hi Mr Wren,” she said, reverting to her normal accent.
He spoke for the first time.
“Do you work for Burnside-Peabody?”
“Yes and although I’m a commissioning editor, I’ve not worked on a Brad Wren submission. Mrs Yates has sent me, not to drag you back to New York, but to find you and remind you are contracted to write novels and you have fallen two novels behind your contracted agreement.”
“Okay I understand her anxiety and her ruthlessness to get results and to avoid fuck-ups and failure but why you, why hasn’t she sent a heavy-weight to wave my contract in my face?”
“I guess she thought you’d only punch him and order him back to America.”
Brad actually grinned.
Bron said Mrs Yates was actually a clever and experienced person who probably was a strategic thinker and could be light-handed when necessary.
“Further, she possibly thought I could seduce you… probably intellectually but who knows what she was thinking.”
Bron heard Linda beside her gasp and Travis chuckled.
Holding an opened can of beer, Brad observed Bron’s wine glass was empty.
“Your glass is empty.”
“Well?” she said, arching an eyebrow.
* * *
Brad Wren looked at the intruder challenging him. He’d already concluded that smart bitch Veronica Yates had sent this messenger of whatever she was because this Bron was probably the sexiest woman on her staff. God it had been such a long time since he’d seen a genuinely beautiful woman and Jesus, look at those tits, not too large and there were indications they would be classically shaped without that damn bra.
He felt unaccustomed admiration for Veronica. She’d sent a henchwoman who was the epitome of Brad Wren heroine although not always were they blonde. Christ this was further evidence of why book publishers regarded old Yates as a giant in book publishing.
He filled his sister’s glass and stretched over the table to fill Bron’s glass.
She patted the chair beside her and said, “Sit here, I won’t bite.”
Brad hesitated and giggling Linda said to her husband who was also standing, “Sit beside me Travis, I won’t bite.”
With the men seated, Linda said, “Tell the guys about your Kiwi connection Bron.”
The men showed obvious surprise that Bron had been born in New Zealand.
Travis asked, “So you have dual passports?”
She said yes although she’d had to apply for a new Kiwi one because her old one had expired.
Brad said, “So you haven’t been back here since you were sixteen?”
“Because I had other things to do,” she said coolly and he grinned and though she was a cool chick.
“How old are you?”
“How many times have you had sex Brad?”
There was silence, broken when he said, “I really don’t think…”
“Yes it’s rather like being nosey about a person’s age isn’t it Brad?”
After subsequent conversation ticked over Linda said, “Come and help me get dinner Travis.”
He looked surprised and then jolted as if he’d been kicked under the table.
“Oh yeah,” he said and went off with his wife.
Bron said, “How may I assist you to resume writing for us Brad?”
She’d said that calmly without any hint of seduction in her voice.
Brad scratched behind his right ear and said, “Dunno. I’ve been thinking about it but nothing has happened.”
Bron said there would be a number of reasons for that.
“The first things to do is to get you relocated and with a schedule.”
“All writers I know when they feel a bit stale do something different and then change how they are living, usually only slightly, to get a feeling of making a fresh start. They increase their exercise, as exercise stimulates the brain and even increased sexual activity can be included in that and above all, adopting a comfortable schedule is necessary.”
Brad couldn’t believe it. The smart-ass bitch had dropped in that thing about increased sexual activity and all he needed to say was sex with whom and she’d say lightly she was here to support him in every way, turning her light blue eyes on to him and parting her lips and even form her lips into a Big O. Cripes he was almost ready to pant.
But instead of saying who was available as a sex partner, he said, “Then draw me up a tentative writing schedule. I have replaced a farmhand and so Travis will be expecting to still get some work out of me. You figure that out.”
“How long does it take you to write a novel?”
“I’ve completed in two months when fresh including final revising. But three months is a good target.”
“That means if you start now you could finish before autumn calving?”
Jesus this woman was bright. He’d been thinking that himself.
“What do you know about our farming schedule?”
“Oh I know a lot of things, many of them one could mistakenly think are useless clutter, but eventually that information pops out in a timely fashion.”
“Yeah I was thinking about the stress of calving time.”
“I though you would be.”
He stroked his jaw and looked at her and she didn’t look away.
She asked him at what time of the day was he most creative and he said mornings and then, grinning, or an hour after sex.
She giggled and Brad looked at her as if he were interested.
* * *
Waking next morning to the stillness of the countryside, broken occasionally by the bellow of a bull or barking dogs, Bron went down to breakfast and kissed Linda warmly.
“Can I have one too,” Travis asked, dropping his newspaper flat on the kitchen table.
Bron kissed him warmly and said cheerfully that she thought she was regarded as the enemy.
“I can honestly say when you began cutting loose Miss Wilder, we took to you well, being charmed by your mannerisms, wit, eloquence and sensibility.”
“Oh my goodness, have you been drinking Travis.”
He laughed and smacked her butt and Linda called from the cooker, “Watch him Bron. Sit and pour yourself a juice dear, steak and eggs and fried potatoes will be ready in a minute.”
“Um could I just have one eggs and a piece of lightly done toast?”
“Oh yes, of course. I overlooked the obvious fact that you control what you eat.”
Bron asked lazily, “Is Brad out feeding the dogs?”
“He did that earlier and has gone to the village to get bread and milk and check for my magazines subscriptions. He’s had breakfast and will be back in about half an hour.”
“Oh then I must seize the opportunity guys. I’m working out a writing schedule for Brad and he’s agreed to look at it. Do you know when he has sex?”
The Thomas’s looked surprised, both waiting for elaboration.
Bron said, “He told me he writes best in mornings and joked, at least I think he was joking, and about an hour after sex.”
They all laughed.
Bron said to Travis, “Can you spare not having Brad most mornings, say until 10:00? He could then write most mornings, starting as early as he wishes.
“Yes of course, er most mornings. Sometimes…”
“Most mornings would be fine Travis. Now where he can live, away from the house?”
“We don’t mind you two sharing.”
“Well Linda my thinking is he needs to be away from distractions when writing.”
“There’s accommodation at the old woolshed we abandoned five years ago when we went out of sheep,” Travis said. “A lick of paint, some repairs and the electricity supply restored and the water system flushed out and Bob’s your uncle.”
“Would you live over there to get his breakfast?”
“Um Linda I can’t impose on you guys like this.”
“Put that out of your mind darling. You are doing you best for my brother and although he’s here to learn about farming, first and foremost he remains an author. Oh there are two bedrooms. The accommodation was built in mind for a married manager and one or two kids so if you go over there you’d have choices.”
Bron said slyly, “Brad might not want me over there.”
Travis sniggered and said she had to be kidding and catching the look from his wife added, “Any guy would like a cook on the premises and you guys could live back here on Saturdays and Sundays.”
Bron said they would need to talk to Brad about that. The first step would be to get him to agree to any type of schedule.
That evening Bron presented Brad with the simple schedule and he was told Travis approved of it.
“Are you staying on here?”
“Yes for a while.”
“Then I need to have you over there with me for incentive and, looking at Travis, Bra D grinned and said, “To cook for me and at the end of my working day to allow me to perhaps write some more at evenings or at least work on planning and reviews after I’ve relaxed and had a couple of beers while chatting to you.”
“Are you quite sure such an arrangement would provide the creative environment you need?”
“Yes Bron, I reckon it would.”
Travis said, “In that case I’ll call Ian (the farm worker) to meet us over there at 8:30 in the morning and we’ll get started on the clean-up.”
Linda said she’d pitch in and would pack lunch and Bron said she’d help out as well.
Early on the morning of the second day of renovation work, Linda drove to Auckland to return the rental vehicle and she purchased a pre-owned Ford Fiesta that appeared to have been well-looked after. She arrived back at the station and after dinner she and Brad moved into the woolshed accommodation.
As she followed Brad driving a Ford F150, Linda smiled thinking about Mrs Yates’ short reply to Linda’s first report that she’d found and established rapport from Brad and had successfully convinced him to return to writing. The reply stated, ‘Brilliant work. I’m so pleased with you. Veronica.’
Carrying in Bron’s two suitcases, Brad said, “A decision Bron. My bedroom with me or that pokey second bedroom infested with rats?”
Well-rehearsed about a decision, Bron said, “Oh with you of course. You need mothering.”
“So I’m welcome to suck your tits?”
“Brad,” she cried weakly, her face turning bright red.
He smiled and said, “New York lady, obviously I have to toughen you up.”
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