of business this woman operates.
"I need more details on this business of hers." I look directly at Peters. "Sounds like a seedy massage parlor’s name to me."
"I thought the same thing and expected your response, so I did a little more digging. It’s all in the report. Ms. Delcour is a certified Tantra teacher. According to her company's website, she left a successful practice as a psychologist in Paris after experiencing the…" Peters pauses to read from the papers in his hand, "'Freedom, sensuality, and healing power of Tantra,' whatever the fuck that is, sir. It seems she took up this practice after the death of her husband, a Giant Slalom silver medalist. She recently moved back to New York City, opened this business, and does whatever the hell Tantra teachers do."
"That's what she meant by teaching men to 'fuck women into oblivion.' Tantra is a sexual practice taken from the Far East, I believe, and teaches some new age type techniques. That sums up my limited knowledge." I sputter the last sentence then mumble, "I plan to find out more, though. And here I thought she might have been referring to her own personal lovers." Kathryn’s comments being semi-professional make more sense. Now I want to learn more about Tantra as I’m completely intrigued.
“Peters, you mentioned calling in a favor from our cell phone company. I'm hoping it has something to do with GPS." I find myself on the edge of my seat, anxious to hear his response.
"Exactly. I have her cell phone’s GPS tracking. I emailed you an app for it. Click on the link, then download it to your phone, and you should be good to go." He points to my phone lying next to me on the desk.
"How did you know I would want such an intrusion into her personal life?" I stare at Peters, unflinching.
"Call it a hunch, but other than your birth father, you've never asked for someone's background unless there's a business connection. And this request seemed personal. Am I right?"
"Spot on as usual, but that's what I pay you for—getting it right." Peters smiles, satisfied.
"I have what I need for now," I conclude while browsing over the documents from Peters. “But keep digging. I’d like to find out more about her switch to Paris for schooling. What made her leave New York City? Email me anything you find that adds to this report. That’ll be all for today.”
Peters takes my cue and leaves me rustling through the papers of Kathryn's report. She's become less of a mystery but remains a puzzle to me, so I carry on, hoping to learn more.
Her education reflects her pedigree: all elite schools. One year at Barnard and then finishing her studies in Paris is unusual. I hope Peters can find out more about her transfer. Having visited Paris many times, imagining her there isn’t difficult. A beautiful young woman buried in her books while driving the young boys crazy.
I pull the first paper of the report back out of the pile and lay it on top, finding the web address for her business. I open my laptop and punch in the address, my fingers flying over the keyboard. On my screen pops her homepage with her picture sitting to the middle right of the page.
Fuck, she's smiling in a rather coy fashion, with a trace of seduction behind her eyes. Beautiful. She is simply breathtaking. My eyes can't even leave her face to read the words on the screen. I could really care less right now.
Acting on an impulse, which I never do, I set my mind on a course of action and get the wheels in motion. I’m going after her today, as in right now. I believe it’s time to act on Mrs. Swanson’s motherly advice and persuade the beautiful Kathryn to have dinner with me.
"Ms. Carter. Cancel the rest of my meetings for today. Reschedule the conference call with the investors for tomorrow. Tell them I’m,” I can’t think of a good excuse, because I never cancel calls like this one. “Oh, hell, make up a believable excuse. And inform Tom Duffy that he and Lois will be attending