Hawke's Game

by Natasha West

  The house was large and, from my limited view, it was in the modern style, all one level, with many glass walls. It had a long tree lined driveway and a private gate with intercom. It had been forty-five minutes of waiting, but I wasn’t going anywhere until I got a glimpse of this person.

  As I sat, I had time to think and naturally, my thoughts turned to the meeting I’d just had with Penny. I was glad we’d done it. I’d wanted to help her and I hadn’t expected anything in return. But she had given me something. She’d relinquished me of a fair bit of guilt. Not all of it, and rightfully so. I’d behaved badly with her. I’d lied to her, cheated, and been generally selfish. I’d cared about her deeply, but it had been at a point in my life where I’d forgotten how to really be with another person. Hadn’t been ready for it, ready for her.

  And yet not two hours ago, she’d told me I’d been her best teacher. I suppose that I hadn’t really prioritised that part our relationship in my memories of that time. I was glad that she could. But that was Penny. She could find the good. I envied that. Now more than ever, I tended to look for the worst. And that stretched beyond my current job, which certainly capitalised on that skill, but certainly didn’t create it.

  What was incredible to me, as she had told me what she’d learned from me, is that in her own way she’d taught me a lot too. She’d taught me to love again. But I couldn’t tell her that. It wasn’t appropriate now. It suddenly struck me as funny that now, after I’d been thrown out of my teaching job for having sex with my students, I was concerned about propriety in a casual tutoring session. Well, better late than never.

  I was pulled from my meditations by the sound of Alexandra Murphy’s large steel gates grinding slowly open. I shuffled down in my seat. I wanted to see her but I had no intention of letting her see me.

  A royal blue Mercedes Benz pulled up to the gates and I watched carefully, ready to get a good look at its inhabitant. But as the car waited for the gate to finish opening, the sun glared onto the windscreen, obscuring the view. I cursed the sudden and inconvenient winter sun but then I had a stroke of luck. As the car pulled out onto the road, it suddenly stopped.

  I could vaguely make out two woman in the front of the car, but still it wasn’t that helpful at this range. And then one of the back doors flew open, a woman’s voice spilled out.

  ‘Georgia, I don’t care if you’re hungover, you’re coming to this dinner. People will expect to see you there.’

  ‘Do you even care that I don’t want to be there?

  ‘Not really. I fund your life, this is the deal. Just occasionally, you come to these functions and you smile and keep your mouth shut.’

  ‘Can we at least go back for my sunglasses?’

  ‘I’m not going back for a pair of sunglasses. If you forgot them, it’s tough.’

  ‘Christ, will you just wait here then so I can get them?!’

  ‘You’ve got five minutes.’

  A young woman I didn’t recognise climbed out of the open door, slamming it shut behind her. She looked about twenty, which was not the right age for Alexandra Murphy. She was a good looking girl, with raven black hair, alabaster skin and sky blue eyes. There was something familiar about her, though I didn’t know what. She looked furious as she stomped back in through the gate.

  Even though the car doors were now shut, the person I presumed to be Georgia’s mother began another angry audible quarrel, this time with her female passenger side companion. I squinted, trying to get a better view, and voice rang out clear.

  ‘How am I hard on her? I pay for her to drink herself into a stupor every damn night.’

  I didn’t hear the reply to that, but the first voice spoke again, much louder.

  ‘Yes, I know it’s not all about money. I’m simply saying I’m not prepared to let her make a fool of me as usual. Not today. Don’t tell me how to raise my daughter, Jessica.’

  This time the reply was clear.

  ‘Don’t speak to me like that. I’m her step parent and I have a say as well.’

  I suddenly realised that my SLR camera was in the back of the car. A good zoom would do better than my naked eyes. I grabbed the cam, careful not to draw the attention of the car, and pointed it cautiously at my target, zooming in. As I began to push in, the girl came back with her sunglasses. The car began to move off and I had one glare free second. I barely got one snap before the car pulled off down the road.

  As the car vanished, I looked at my screen and pulled up the snap I’d gotten. It had two women in the front. The passenger was about thirty, bottle blond, attractive, maybe a little more make up than she needed. She was presumably ‘Jessica’. But as I looked at the driver’s side, my interest was piqued. There she was, Alexandra Murphy. I knew immediately who she was. And I also knew exactly why she was trying to ruin me.

  I’d been twenty two years old when I’d met Alexandra Murphy, or Alex Henry as I’d known her sixteen years ago. She was a little older than me, twenty seven. I met her in a coffee shop, a place I went to write when I shared a house with some fairly loud housemates. She’d stop in around the same time every day, always for the same thing, a small black coffee. I noticed her fairly quickly, with her long glossy black hair, milky skin and sharp blue eyes. She looked a lot like her daughter does now.

  I’m sure you’ve begun to guess where this story goes but I’ll tell you anyway. I decided that I wanted her for two reasons. Firstly, she was an astonishing beauty. Secondly, she didn’t notice me.

  The girls I’d been sleeping with were easy, unexciting, and they all seemed to drift to me without me needing to do much. It happened in bars and clubs, the gym, once even in a supermarket. It had always been that way for me. There was no pursuit needed at all. And I was bored. Yes, even then, I was beginning to think there was more to the chase than being the object of it. I’d had enough of the routine and Alex presented a new challenge. And I instinctively knew, Alex would be the toughest of nuts to crack. She had a way of gliding around as if she merely deigned to live in the same world the rest of us did. She was haughty. And I liked it.

  After a few weeks of watching her stop in for her daily coffee, I decided to engineer a meeting. I stood behind her as she got her coffee and at the moment she turned, I bumped right into her. Not very original but it’s a classic for a reason. Coffee spilled all over both of us.

  ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’

  She looked down at herself, furious. I’d known she would be. It was half the reason I’d done it like this. If I could pull seduction back from this moment, what an accomplishment it would be.

  ‘It’s all over you. God. Was that coat expensive? It looks expensive.’

  She looked at me then for the first time and she seemed to relent a little in the face of my convincing mortification.

  ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘At the very least, let me pay for it to be dry cleaned.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. You don’t need to do that’ she said coldly.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I need to get going.’

  ‘At least let me get you a replacement coffee?’

  She looked at her watch.

  ‘I don’t know if I’ve got time…’

  ‘It’ll just take a sec. Dave, a black coffee to go please?’ I called to the barista.

  Dave began to fiddle with the filter and I noticed a book poking out of Alex’s bag.

  ‘Is that Fitzgerald?’

  She looked down at the book absentmindedly.

  ‘Oh. Yes. Tender is the Night.’

  If I had an in, this was it.

  ‘I like that one. But I prefer Gatsby.’

  ‘You’re a reader?’ she asked with disinterest. I felt like I was losing what small momentum I’d created.

  ‘Yes. When I’m not writing myself.’

  She looked at me anew.

  ‘Are you any good?

  It was an excellent question, and
quite a bold one from a stranger. It charmed me greatly. I decided to give her the most honest answer I could.

  ‘Yes, I’m good. Not great. Not yet. But good’ I said and smiled slowly, biting my lip a little.

  She seemed to like that answer. She didn’t smile exactly but I thought I saw a flicker of something behind her eyes, something like intrigue. But before I could take the conversation any further, Dave producing the drink.

  ‘Well, I better get going. Good luck with the writing.’

  And off she went without a second glance. But I didn’t give up hope.

  The next day, I waited until five minutes before the time when she usually arrived and ordered her coffee for her. And when she came in, I waved at her.

  ‘Hey, I got you a coffee.’

  She looked surprised to see me, as though she’d forgotten yesterday already.

  ‘You didn’t need to do that.’

  ‘I checked the cost of dry cleaning your coat. It’s not cheap. I’m going to keep buying you coffee until the debt is repaid.’

  Was she going to find this winningly smooth? Or irritating? For a second, I really didn’t know. Then she gave a small smile and came over for the coffee. My laptop was open and she glanced at it.

  ‘Are you working?’

  ‘Yes, but I need to take a break. Would you sit with me a second? If you don’t, I’m just going to keep scrolling up and down the page, messing around with it.’

  She was undecided for a second.

  ‘Well, I suppose I could sit. Just for a minute.’

  She sat down and we started to talk. It was quickly clear that she was very bright and very well read. And I knew that as a writer, I might appeal to her intellectual side. And by god, I worked that angle. I threw all my accumulated knowledge into those few minutes, naming the best writers and books that I knew, old and new. I could see her begin to enjoy the conversation. And as she left, I promised her another coffee the next day. She didn’t say yes to it. But she didn’t say no either.

  The next day, I had her coffee ready for her arrival again. She walked in and this time she simply came over and sat right down, no persuasion needed. And we talked a little longer than the day before. She was interested in what I was writing and I gave her small nuggets, being careful not to go on too much about it. There’s nothing more boring than a writer talking about stories they’ve yet to write.

  And that became a daily thing, coffee and talk. We’d cover a range of subjects, from literature to politics to art. And I’d ask about her life. She was married, it turned out, with a four year old daughter. I was only briefly discouraged. Because I was getting the vibe that the housewife thing was wearing pretty thin. She was a smart woman and she knew she was wasting her mind. And I knew that was my way into her bed. Yes, I realise that seducing a married woman was wicked. But I was young. I honestly believed that once I’d gotten what I wanted, we could go back to our lives as before and that no real harm had to be done.

  And then one day, she asked me if I wanted to come over to her place for a drink. The kid was in daycare, husband out at work. I had an idea that my moment had come. I went over to her house. It was a beautiful place, a lot fancier than where I lived although not the quite palace she currently resides in.

  After a little chatter, she offered me wine, even though it was still early afternoon. We sat on the sofa, drinking and talking. After we finished the bottle, she put her glass down.

  ‘Julia…’

  ‘Alex..?’ I replied devilishly.

  She frowned at me.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  And that infamous Alex haughtiness made a sudden appearance. She looked at me directly, aggressively even.

  ‘Do you find me attractive?’

  Of course I did. But the way she’d asked that, so confrontationally, I wondered if this was actually going in the direction that I’d hoped. Was this actually a prelude to her telling me to get lost? That I was misreading her and she had no interest in me like that?

  Well, I thought, I’ve loaded the gun. I might as well fire it. I swallowed and nodded.

  ‘I do. I think you’re beautiful.’

  She turned away from me, in embarrassment I thought.

  ‘I’m a married women, you realise that, don’t you?’

  I heaved a sigh and nodded, letting go of all hope at that point. No, this wasn’t going to fly. I was punching above my weight.

  And with that loss of confidence, I got up, deciding I should go. Alex stood up too and I thought she was just going to see me to the door, but she murmured ‘Wait.’ And then she seized hold of me, dragging me to her, pulling me into a ferocious kiss. I melted into it like ice in the fire. And Alex was fire. She was consuming me like a hungry flame.

  It was a truly satisfying moment. A moment of victory. With hindsight, I can see that a seed was sown in me in from that moment. And what it planted was a lifelong craving for those moments of true conquest.

  Eventually, mine and Alex’s powerful kiss broke and we both took a second to catch our breath. I hoped it wouldn’t end there, that she wouldn’t get cold feet. But I needn’t have worried. She wanted a lot more than a kiss.

  ‘You’re coming with me. Right now.’

  And she pulled me up the stairs.

  In the bedroom, she turned to me and said ‘Strip. Slowly. I want to see you.’

  For the first moment in this lengthy seduction, I was a little daunted. Because I was beginning to see that behind closed doors, she was every inch the untamed, dominant woman that she was in the outside world. But I wasn’t about to resign now. I pulled my clothes off, slowly, beginning to enjoy my striptease. Once I was naked, she pulled me to the bed and pinned me down on my back, holding me by my wrists.

  ‘Don’t move.’

  I lay there, motionless but pent-up as she pulled off her own clothes. She was magnificent, the most exquisite woman I’d ever beheld. And then I watched as she travelled around my body, licking every inch of it, taking her sweet time. I was ready to explode by the time she reached my wet, throbbing arousal. The orgasm was delicious, powerful, my young body reaching new heights.

  After that, I was desperate to touch her. I literally begged to taste her. She looked up at me, smiled and turned herself around, her face still between my thighs as she moved into position, lowering herself onto my mouth, allowing me to taste her, which I did with zeal.

  That went on for some time, both of us licking each other with deliberation and relentless hunger for the other. The only disruptions occurred when one of us cried out in ecstasy.

  Eventually, we lay back, exhausted

  ‘I’ve never cheated before.’

  I turned to face her. She was staring at the ceiling.

  ‘Do you feel guilty?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Only then did she look at me. She pushed a sweaty lock of hair from my forehead.

  ‘You’re not my first girl, you know.’

  I nodded.

  ‘I realised that about halfway through my first orgasm. It’s obvious you know what you’re doing.’

  She looked back at the ceiling.

  ‘I thought I would be OK, getting married, just being with him. And then you spilled that damn coffee on me.’

  It was only then that I began to wonder if I’d done something bad. But that voice was a quiet one in comparison to the one that wanted Alex as many times as I could have her.

  Still, as far as I was concerned, it could only be recreational. I mean, I liked Alex a lot. She was smart, sexy, good company and magnificent in bed. But married. And that meant it was a certain type of relationship. And I thought she looked at it in the same light. I only had half the story, however. But I didn’t realise that till much later.

  A few days after, she texted me and I went over to her house. And the same thing happened, although with significantly less pre-amble. And from there it became habitual, a few times a week for about three
months. It was a wonderful time, a time of incredible sex with an exciting and stimulating woman. It was somewhat disappointing to think it would be over some day, but I took great comfort from the idea of the next conquest.

  Then one day, I went over to see her, for what I thought was the usual. Ordinarily, we’d go to her bedroom pretty quickly but instead of leading me upstairs, she took me into the kitchen. I began to get a little nervous. She seemed edgy. Was this an ‘It’s been great but adios’ type conversation?

  She made some tea and we sat down at the table. I waited for the brush off, thinking perhaps it was for the best. It couldn’t go on forever. But Alex took a deep breath and said ‘I’ve done it.’

  I didn’t have the first idea what she was talking about.

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘I’ve left my husband. Or, kicked him out, I suppose. Anyway, he’s gone.’

  I nearly dropped my tea.

  ‘You’ve…’ I trailed off. She nodded, exultant.

  ‘It was hard, but it had to be done. Because I love you.’

  It was the first time she’d ever said she loved me. I felt a little faint.

  ‘But, but, we never-’

  ‘I know this is a big move, but don’t be scared.’

  ‘But we never talked about this’ I finally managed to spit out.

  She began to look a little disconcerted.

  ‘No, we didn’t. But we didn’t need to. I know you feel like I do.’

  I sat in a dazed silence.

  ‘I want to make this work. Don’t you?’

  ‘I, um, I…’

  ‘Adam is going to pick up his things tomorrow and then maybe you can bring your stuff over the day after.’

  ‘You want me to move in?!’

  ‘Of course. Isn’t that what you want?’

  I was in complete and utter shock. I’d thought of this as a fun affair and now she wanted me to live with her?

  She stood and came up behind me. She began to kiss my neck. My head began to swim as her lips caressed my flesh.

  ‘Don’t you want to have this any time you like?’ she whispered seductively.