by Jane Green
Alice has tried this before, when Joe has been distant in the past. Has bought the underwear, tried to ply him with wine, and even though it has never worked, she has renewed vigor this time.
And so she waits up for Joe in a lacy negligée. And waits. And waits. At six minutes past midnight, when she hears the front door open, Alice is so tired all she wants to do is sleep, but she has come this far, she will see it through.
She expects Joe to come straight to bed. After all, it is late, and he has been working, but when he hasn’t appeared twenty minutes later, she pads downstairs to see what he is doing.
No sign of him in the living room, or the kitchen. She hears the murmur of low voices coming from his study, and immediately her heart starts beating faster, the nausea starts to rise in her chest.
She wants to stand outside the door and listen, have the proof she finally needs, but she can’t. She doesn’t want to catch him having a seedy affair, doesn’t want to hear incontrovertible evidence, wants instead for Joe to reassure her, to tell her that everything’s fine.
She hears low laughter, and pushes open the door, loudly, so he knows she’s there. She’s heard enough to be suspicious, but couldn’t bear hearing enough to condemn him.
Joe turns around instantly, fear in his eyes.
“What are you doing up?” he says, trying to sound as normal as possible, still holding the phone.
“What are you doing?” Alice hisses, pointing at the phone. “Who are you talking to? Are you having an affair?”
“I’ll have to phone you tomorrow,” Joe says into the phone, his voice now loud, professional, businesslike. “Don’t do anything with the fairness opinion until then.”
“Will do,” Josie laughs huskily. “Naughty boy, nearly being caught. See you tomorrow.” And she blows a kiss down the phone as she puts it down.
“Yup,” Joe says into the receiver, now talking to the dial tone, stalling for time. “Yup, we’ll talk about the valuation tomorrow. I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” He turns around to Alice, who falters nervously, now starting to doubt herself. Did she really hear soft laughter as she stood outside the door? Did she really hear the soft murmur of conversation, the tone of voice that sounded like he was talking to a woman, a lover?
“What the fuck are you doing?” The fear has been replaced with anger. Joe has pulled it off, knows he has pulled it off, and is now furious and defensive, with the righteousness of the guilty who knows he is walking free. “How dare you,” he continues, “how dare you walk into my office when I am on the phone to a client in Japan, and accuse me, within earshot, of having an affair.”
Alice hates raised voices. Hates arguments. Her first inclination is always to back down and run, and sure enough, she starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought you were . . . you sounded like you were . . .”
“What?” he spits. “I sounded like I was what? You mean you were standing outside listening to my conversation?” For a second the fear is back, but no, she couldn’t possibly have heard or she would have known, she wouldn’t be backing down so quickly.
Josie is turning out to be somehow different from the others. They have been sleeping together for three months, three months during which Joe has found that unlike all of the other women with whom he has had affairs, he is not the one in control.
Frightening and unbelievably exhilarating, Josie has become like a class A drug for him. The more he sees her the more he wants to see her, and the more he wants to see her the more control she seems to have over him.
For a while he was worried he might have fallen in love with her. Worried because the very last thing he wants to do is hurt Alice, and worried because he knows he couldn’t handle a woman like Josie full time. Now he thinks it’s not love, merely an obsession that will, eventually, work its way out of his system.
Joe has had these obsessions before, but usually, as soon as the woman starts making demands, starts falling for Joe emotionally, he switches off and moves on to the next challenge.
But Josie is still a challenge. She finds him amusing. The lines that have worked so well on the others only arouse laughter, and scorn, in Josie.
He finds her toughness, her unwillingness to do whatever he wants, intoxicating, and has, like tonight, started to take more risks.
He left her only forty minutes ago, but he thought of her all the way home, and had to have one last phone call with her before going to bed. Alice, who would, if she possibly could, be in bed by eight-thirty every night, was not supposed to be up.
Oh God, he came close. He looks at Alice, standing there in a negligée he hasn’t seen before, and thanks God he got away with it again. This was close. Too close. However addictive he finds Josie, he does not want his marriage to end, and he knows that had Alice heard what he had been saying to Josie, heard him tell Josie that he wanted to take her to the country, to a hotel with a four-poster bed, to tie her up, legs spread wide as he does whatever he wants, his marriage would be over.
“Well?” he repeats, anger and just a hint of fear flashing in his eyes. “What did you hear? What did you think you heard?”
“I . . . nothing. It was just the tone of your voice, it didn’t sound like a business call.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Joe stands up, pushing past Alice. “I’ve had a long day, I’m exhausted, and I come home to find my wife standing here making ridiculous accusations. Do you have any idea how hard I’m actually working right now? Do you have any idea how busy I am, how exhausted I am by the time I come home?”
“I’m sorry,” Alice says meekly.
“Well, it’s a bit late for sorry.” Joe is on a roll now. “The last thing I need is for my wife to make ridiculous accusations about affairs when I get home at”—he looks at his watch—“gone midnight.”
“But, Joe.” Alice tries to find the words to express herself, not wanting to give up this easily, wanting to have a conversation about her fears, wanting to be reassured. “We haven’t made love for three months. You go away all the time and don’t leave me a contact number, and you’re never at home. You have to admit it’s suspicious.”
“So you really think I’m having an affair?”
“No . . . I don’t know.” Alice sighs. “I suppose I don’t really think it, I don’t really think you’d do that to me, but when you don’t seem to want me anymore I don’t know what to think.”
“Oh, darling.” Joe’s won. He can placate her now. He walks up to her and puts his arms around her, hugging her tight. “Of course I’m not having an affair. I love you. You’re my little chicken, no one else.”
Alice smiles with relief, sinks into his arms. “I love you too.” She sighs, nuzzling his neck.
Joe smiles into her hair. “I love you more.”
“I love you more.”
“I know.” Alice’s nuzzling becomes more insistent, she moves around and kisses his mouth. Joe kisses her in return, but as her lips start to open, he pulls back and squeezes her tightly before turning away. “It’s very late,” he says, taking her hand and pulling her out of the study. “Bedtime.”
Alice slides over to Joe’s side of the bed and snuggles into his back. Joe keeps his breathing as still as possible. He loves her, but he doesn’t want to make love to her. Doesn’t want to make love to anyone right now other than Josie, and even that isn’t really making love but fucking.
“’Night,” he mumbles, as if already asleep. Alice strokes his back for a few moments in a halfhearted attempt to arouse him, but eventually she gives up and moves back to her side of the bed.
“So if you didn’t think he was having an affair the other night,” Emily ventures once Alice has told her the story, “what makes you think he’s having an affair now?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but when he’s there, reassuring me, I know with absolute certainty that I’m being ridiculous. But when he’s gone, or phoning me yet again to tell me he’ll be home late,
my mind starts working overtime and I convince myself he’s got someone else. And you know the worst thing of all? The worst thing of all is that I’m thirty-five years old and I want to start having children, and how the hell am I supposed to get pregnant when my husband doesn’t sleep with me?”
“You mean Joe’s finally agreed to children?”
Alice snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. My husband’s never at home anymore to even discuss it. But time’s running out, Em. I’m ready, God, I’ve been ready for years, and who even knows if I can get pregnant? It might take ages, and if we don’t start soon it will be too late.”
“And how can you get pregnant when your husband’s not sleeping with you?”
“Exactly. I tell you, I’ve even fantasized about going to a sperm clinic.”
“You haven’t!”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t. I want to have a child with my husband, not a test tube. I can’t believe I even entertained the fantasy.”
“I’ll tell you what’s really sad. My fantasy involves handcuffs, silk scarves, and three big burly men who each have a master’s degree in sex. Yours involves a test tube of sperm.”
Alice chokes on her tea. “Three? Three men? Are you serious?”
Emily blushes and shrugs. “Was that oversharing?”
“Just a touch. So go on, tell me more. Where do you meet these three men?”
“Uh-uh. I’m not giving you any more information until you tell me your fantasy.”
“Okay. My fantasy is a thatched cottage . . .”
“Oh, shut up!” Emily hits Alice, who dissolves into giggles. “Your sexual fantasy. Come on. I’ve told you mine, now you tell me yours.”
“Not until I’ve had further information about the three big burly men. Is one of them Harry?”
Emily shakes her head firmly. “Absolutely not. Fantasies should never involve the men you love, not when they’re this decadent.”
“Oooh, this is getting better and better. Go on then, tell me more.”
Half an hour of giggling later, Emily leans over and strokes Humphrey’s head. Humphrey closes his eyes in bliss and immediately rolls over, offering Emily his rather fat stomach, which she rubs while laughing. “You’re such a big baby, Humphrey. You know what, Ali, if you’re not going to have a baby just yet, you need someone else.”
“What?” Alice looks up in shock. “I don’t want anyone else. What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about someone like a Humphrey.”
“A what?”
“A dog. If you’re that lonely, why don’t you get a dog?”
“Because Joe hates animals. I’d love a dog.”
“Well, that’s tough on Joe. Tell him that either he has to spend more time at home, or you’re getting a dog to keep you company.”
“I don’t think he’ll buy it. Look what happened to Molly and Paolo.”
“But it’s worth a try. All men hate cats, but dogs are different, and what harm can it do to try? One of the girls in the training class has a gorgeous Westie that’s just had puppies, and she’s looking for homes.”
“Oh, cute! I love Westies.”
“Well, the puppies aren’t purebred. Actually the dog was pregnant when she rescued her, so God knows what the puppies will be, but they’re incredibly cute.”
“My luck the puppies will be half Westie, half Rottweiler.”
Emily laughs. “At least it will be a good guard dog. And it would be amazing, you could join the training class. Oh go on, get a dog. Please!”
Alice has brightened up considerably at the prospect. “Well,” she says finally, “you’ve definitely got a point, and it’s definitely worth a try. If my husband ever comes home at a reasonable hour again, I promise to broach the subject.”
A week later Snoop came home. Of course Joe protested, but Alice had been practicing her argument, and really he didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Alice was deliriously happy to finally have someone on whom to lavish love and attention, someone who would love her unconditionally, would want to be with her all the time.
She had already started the dog-training class, and, thanks to Harry’s relationship with Emily, was already getting special treatment. If she had any questions or wanted help with anything, Harry had said she could call him any time.
Owning Snoop was opening up a whole new world for Alice. She could turn down invitations with the excuse that she had a new puppy and couldn’t leave him alone, or if restaurants wouldn’t take Snoop she was sorry but she’d have to decline kind invitations to lunch.
She walked Snoop at least five times a day around their neighborhood, suddenly noticing how many other people had dogs, and stopping to talk to all the other dog owners.
The neighborhood consensus on the other half of Snoop was beagle or basset. An odd combination, certainly, but one that might explain the large brown splotches all over what otherwise looked very like a West Highland terrier.
It was a world that Alice discovered she loved, and even though Joe wasn’t around any more than he had been in the past few months, was still distant and detached, Alice found she didn’t care nearly as much. Now she had something other than Joe to think about, and it suited her perfectly.
Even Joe started to think Snoop was rather a good idea. He was turning out to be the perfect excuse for a late-night walk and a late-night phone call to Josie. And, given that Joe had no Joe Junior, the perfect alibi for a weekend rendezvous.
“You have a lie in,” he’d say to Alice, kissing her as he stood at the foot of the bed in jeans and a baseball cap. “I’m just going to take Snoop to Hyde Park for a long walk.” Alice would snuggle back under the duvet with a smile. Who would have thought that Joe would be this smitten with a dog? And if he was this good with Snoop, just imagine what he’d be like with children. Surely they’d be able to start trying for a baby soon.
And Snoop was quite happy. There wasn’t an awful lot for him to do in Josie’s living room, so he’d pee merrily in the corner while he waited for Joe to emerge from behind the closed bedroom door.
“No, Joe, don’t be ridiculous.” Josie shivers as Joe runs an experienced hand up her inner thigh. “Not in the office.”
“And why not?” Joe murmurs. “Eight o’clock on a Friday night, just who exactly do you think is around?”
Josie is silent. He has a point. The trading floor is always deserted by, at the very latest, six on a Friday. She stops to listen, then gets up and looks outside the door. He’s right. It’s deserted.
“Leave the door open,” Joe grins, enjoying the thrill, as he leans back against the conference table in the meeting room at the end of the corridor. “And come here.”
Josie leans against the doorjamb in the doorway. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She raises an eyebrow as she surveys the rise in his trousers. “And if you’re serious, unzip your trousers now.”
Joe unzips them and raises an eyebrow as Josie walks over to him with a smile, bending down to kiss him as she slips a hand through the zip and Joe moans.
11
“This is Steven from Human Resources. We’d like to have a meeting with you. Could you make it up here for six this evening?”
Shit. No. Six this evening Joe is planning on going straight back to Josie’s flat for a couple of hours before the opening of a new restaurant he’ll be going to later that evening with Alice.
“Actually six isn’t a good time, and Steven, can I ask what this is about?”
“We want to discuss some career options with you. How does five sound?”
Joe sighs. Career options. What the hell does that mean? Whatever it’s about it sounds like it’s going to be a long one. Still, he should be out of here by six. That would be fine.
“Okay. Five sounds fine.”
“Great. We’ll see you up here on our floor at five.”
Joe intranets a message over to Josie’s computer, careful not to use any provocative language, to keep things as professional as possible
just in case it’s overseen. “Meeting with HR at five. Should be over by next meeting at six. Wait here if it overruns.” He picks up the phone to call Alice, tells her he’ll see her at the restaurant at seven-thirty.
Steven Webster is sitting with his back to the window, Jacqueline Astley, the head of European Human Resources, on his left. At the head of the table is Richard Nilsson, global head of Investment Banking, and Joe’s boss.
Joe was prepared for Steven Webster, a man he knows and likes. The man, in fact, who originally recruited him for the job. He’s not prepared for Jacqueline Astley, and nor is he prepared for his boss. This doesn’t look good, and as he sits down he remembers the door clicking quietly shut when he and Josie were fucking on the desk in the conference room late last Friday night.
They had stopped abruptly, fear instantly replacing the passion, but by the time he had pulled his trousers up and run to the door, checking the dealing room outside and the corridor, there was no one there.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Do you think someone saw us?”
Josie was white. This was the last thing she needed. Shit. Why did she ever take this risk?
“There’s no one there,” Joe said. “Maybe it was the wind.”
“Maybe,” Josie said hopefully. “Or maybe we just imagined it.”
But now, seeing the serious expressions on everyone’s faces, Joe starts to feel rather sick. Maybe they hadn’t imagined it after all.
“Thanks for coming, Joe,” Steven says. “Take a seat. You know everyone here?” Joe nods as Steven gestures to the empty chair and offers him coffee, which Joe declines.
“Do you know why we asked you up here?” Jacqueline leans forward and looks Joe square in the eyes.
He shrugs. “Steven said career options.”
“Joe, this isn’t easy for us,” she says after a pause. “In fact this is probably the hardest part of my job, but it’s come to our attention that you are involved with a work colleague, and I’m afraid you know the rules about that.”