by Imogen Nolde
Then again, what dignity did I have left?
There was no such thing as weird anymore.
“Do you feel shame in giving yourself pleasure in front of me?” he asked.
“You’re not my boyfriend. I haven’t – I haven’t even met you in real life.”
“I assure you. I do exist.”
“It’s almost like you’re anonymous.”
“You know more about me than anybody who is alive.”
I hesitated. “How could that be true?”
“I’m not lying to you. You should always feel safe with me.”
“I … I do feel safe with you…”
“All illusions will be dispelled with time, Vera. But you need to trust me. You need to let go. Let me consume everything in your world.”
I shuddered.
His voice was turning me on.
“You were on the couch with James. He was rubbing your shoulder, then he was kissing you. Just a little bit of his tongue though. Not a lot. You were confused. You saw your friendship with him dying. And yet you were probably horny as well, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“So? Did he lead you upstairs with his hand in yours?”
“Yes.”
“Was he somewhere between sincerity and a chuckle half the time?”
“Yes.”
“So. Now you’re in his bedroom. What did he do next? Did he push you onto the bed? Did he go over to it and sit down, and rub the place beside him ala Austin Powers?”
I laughed. “What do you think happened, Mr. Redthorn?”
“Well, I wouldn’t presume to know. I wasn’t there. You were.”
“That’s right. I was.”
“Don’t leave me in suspense, Vera.”
“Started to stroke yet?”
“I told you my pants are staying on.”
I twisted my head to the side. Tried to remember it exactly.
Moment by moment.
So he could be there too.
“He led me over to the bed. I lay down of my own free will. He … was talking … about something.”
“Something?”
“Some movie he’d seen.”
“How was it relevant?”
“It wasn’t.”
“Well, that detail I can do without then.”
“Yep. So he was kissing me. We both made hard work of getting me naked. Out of my clothes. I tried keeping my panties on, not sure why. So that’s where he went first. Ate me out for a bit.”
“Did you like that?”
“I didn’t dislike it. But I wasn’t…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t very good.”
“What man is?”
“Ha, ha. My body responded anyway. I was getting wet for him.”
“What about now?”
“Am I getting wet?”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Well, why don’t you start rubbing yourself?”
“Thanks for the offer, but –”
“Just do it. Just a little bit. Don’t pay it attention. Just put it on in the background and then come back to your story.”
“I can’t like, get off on this.”
“Why not?”
“Cause it’s … It just happened.”
“Don’t you get off telling me about it?”
“I don’t know. I feel a little warm.”
“Good. Now just rub it for me, would you? Just a little bit.”
“Alright I’ll do it. Pushy.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, Vera.”
“You’re welcome.”
It was an odd exchange. And yet I was so captivated by him.
I’d do anything to keep his voice in my ears.
“What was the lighting like in there?”
“It was bright. So I could see everything. And so could he.”
“So he took his pants off then?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you take them off or did he?”
“He did. He got off the bed.”
“What’s his body like?”
“He’s fit. A bit on the lean side, but his skin is really cute.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean – he has like, girl skin. It’s really white. Really soft. Really gentle.”
“Not much hair on his body?”
“None. I think he must get some work done. Laser treatments or whatever.”
“So he’s hot then?”
“I suppose he is. Why, do you swing that way, Mr. Redthorn?”
“I can appreciate beauty in another man. I might even be attracted to some men. However, I would never act on those impulses.”
“Well, you really should. Maybe we should call James up and we’ll have a three way.”
“I’ll pass.”
“You sure? Going once. Going twice…”
“Vera. You know I only have eyes for you.”
Okay.
That felt way better than it should have.
I stopped rubbing myself. He had succeeded.
I was wet now.
Both in the story.
And the present moment.
“Did he get on top of you?”
“He did.”
“Did he go slow first?”
“Most certainly.”
“Was he still talking about his favorite movie?”
“It wasn’t his favorite movie. Just a movie he saw. And – no he wasn’t talking about it. I think he was asking me for consent.”
Mr. Redthorn laughed. “You should have said, ‘Too late.’”
“Yeah. That would have showed him.”
“I take it this whole time you’re not using a condom.”
“You guessed right.”
“So you’re on the pill then?”
“No.”
“Wow. That’s a bit of blind faith then.”
“If I get pregnant I’ll have an abortion.”
“Isn’t there a morning after pill you can take?”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Just some friendly advice.”
I breathed in.
Looked at the clock.
It was a quarter to three.
We’d been talking for ages.
“Mr. Redthorn?”
“Vera?”
“Is it okay if we stop now?”
“You have to finish. I have more questions.”
“Speed it up.”
“Did you try other positions?”
“He came when I was riding him. The whole thing lasted five minutes. I lay next to him for an hour before he went to sleep. Then I got my shit and left.”
“Were you still thinking about me?”
“I was.”
“And what were you thinking?”
“That you would hate me for doing this.”
“But I knew you were going on your date with him. How would it be fair of me to be jealous?”
“You’re not jealous?”
“No.”
“Because you don’t care?”
“I care more than you’ll ever know. You are my angel. My dearest, sweetest angel.”
I sat up in bed. Tears in my eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You like me?”
“Yes.”
“Romantically?”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t some fucked up weird employee – boss thing?”
“I think we both know it is exactly that.”
“But you said –”
“To them, out there. To James and Zoe and all your other friends and family. To them it will always be weird. It will always be different. They will not understand our infatuation. They will ask questions. Like, why haven’t you met? Why isn’t he with you for Thanksgiving?”
“But that’s not what it’s like?”
“You and I are different. We are weird. We are fucked up.”
�
�But what happens now? What about James?”
“If you like him, then see him again. If you don’t like him, don’t see him.”
“But I like you Mr. Redthorn,” I gushed. “When am I going to see you?”
He gave his answer before leaving me in silence.
“Never.”
6 Vera
That night I dreamt about Mr. Redthorn. I took his lingering eyes and broad shoulders from Jill’s celebrity friend at the gym. I stole his pretty boy features and wavy hair from James. Somewhere, out there in the cold light of day, I ran into a stranger. He had Mr. Redthorn’s height. He carried Mr. Redthorn’s shadow. He wore Mr. Redthorn’s clothes and he even had Mr. Redthorn’s smell.
This was how I could see him in my dream.
This is what he looked like to me.
A fleshless collaboration of ideas and images to complete the construction of him in my mind.
We were standing in a garden together. The sky was filled with color but it wasn’t night or day. Every time I turned, I’d see green become red and red become orange. His presence, his strength. Lifted me. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I was dreaming, that he wasn’t real, that this would all be over soon. But still I wanted to believe it. I wanted him to convince me.
“You said I’d never see you,” I said to him as we danced. “So how can you explain this?”
And he looked at me with those eyes that weren’t his.
And he felt my body with hands that didn’t belong to him.
He pulled me close towards him, and I saw his face morphing through colors and shades and configurations.
And then he spoke to me in his one true voice.
The voice I knew to be real.
“The choice was never mine to make.”
My eyes opened at that point. Face first. Staring up at the cold, dark ceiling.
It was just a dream, of course. Silly me. I knew it was a dream. I knew it. But maybe … there was a way to make it real…
Beep-beep.
“Shit.”
My phone was calling me from the other room.
It was time to get up and go to work.
Our building was nothing to look at. We were on a strip filled with an assortment of locations including the likes of real estates, banks, post offices, and Asian takeaway. There was a coffee shop on the right of us. A newsagent on the left. Our building had a meagre four floors. We were crunched into the back third of floor three, where the front was leased out to various private accountants, lawyers and so on. Normally I’d take the lift up from the parking underneath but it was broken at the moment and due for repair. Which meant I had to climb stairs through the fire escape.
Mr. Redthorn had never been to the office as far as I was aware. Before I started work I had to go into the city for my job interview. The building there was much nicer – everything seemed to sparkle. The floors were laid out evenly and there was enough space for everyone. The elevators even worked. I was called through set of glass doors into a room with immaculate furnishings and atmosphere. There was even a fountain in the centre. An attendant came by and served me with champagne and a fruit bowl. Mr. Redthorn was in the building that day, yet still I never saw him.
It was the closest he and I had ever been.
Lugging myself up the dusty concrete steps to the third-floor side entrance, I tried not to remember that day. I tried to get it out of my mind. Mr. Redthorn had shattered my hopes of he and I having a non-professional relationship on the phone last night. He was sick. Tormenting me this way. He probably got off on it. I felt betrayed. I felt tricked. And I knew that it was my anxiety and of course there really was still hope, yet –
Hope was far too painful.
I wouldn’t dare allow it.
I was such a coward.
Zoe and I were Mr. Redthorn’s bookkeepers. We had a shared workload that often included moving large sums of money from one account to the other. With banks, vendors, credit debtors, he was all over the place. Clearly Mr. Redthorn was in charge of a lot of people’s money. Zoe and I didn’t really ask questions about whether what we were doing was legal or not – Mr. Redthorn had laid that out perfectly clear in his interview process. When he asked us to do something, we would automatically do it. The money we made ourselves wasn’t great, but at the same time I couldn’t think of any other work I could get that would pay as well.
There were two other people who worked for Mr. Redthorn alongside us. One of them was Lucy Gibbons, a private defense attorney. She was the only one of us who had her own office. It was often hard to know whether she was in there or not as she always kept the shades down, apart from the rare occasion she had a visitor. Lucy was ten years older than Zoe and I and acted with authority, though she never really asked us to do anything (other than not use certain mugs or utensils in the break room).
The other person who worked here was a guy our age named Dylan Sheppard who was only in two or three days a week. He was nice enough but a bit of a stoner, and always wore a beanie. We didn’t really know what he did for Mr. Redthorn specifically. Often he would be caught in the process of making illustrations in his scrapbook, or playing video games. He was fairly easy-going but mostly kept to himself.
This morning he wasn’t in. Lucy’s office door was closed and the blinds were drawn, so there was no telling whether she was at work either. Even though I was late, I’d arrived before Zoe which made me uncomfortable. The workspace was dark, cold, lonely. I switched on my computer and sat down, bringing up today’s work schedule. I looked down at my phone, wondering if Mr. Redthorn would call soon to check in on me.
The screen stayed vacant.
“Where are you?” I whispered aloud.
The room remained still.
I closed my eyes, let out a sigh.
Then my schedule began.
Zoe showed up a bit before lunch. Her face was flushed, she was out of breath, and she was carrying a whole heap of technical gear.
“Jesus Christ,” she announced storming in. “Those freakin’ stairs!”
“I think of it as practice for the gym,” I said leaning over my chair.
“When are they gonna get off their lazy asses and fix the Goddamn elevator,” Zoe cursed. “It’s gotta be bleeding three weeks now.”
I got up. “Do you need a hand with that stuff?”
“I don’t know, I don’t –”
“It’s alright, I’ve got it,” I said taking the bag from her shoulder. I moved in to take the second one but she stopped me.
“Thanks, let’s get this shit in the corner.”
We went to the corner and dumped it.
“What is all this stuff?”
“Redthorn had me taking pictures all morning. These are his bleeding cameras.”
“Can’t you just use your phone?”
“No, he needs professional shots, he says. Wants them in both video and stills. And needs me to use all this gear. I swear he hates me.”
“What were you taking shots of?”
“People. Locations. God knows what for. Shit. I need to sit down.”
Zoe went over to her desk and flopped down, exhausted.
“I’ll get you a tea,” I offered.
“Thank you. You’re the best.”
I went off to the break room and made Zoe her tea. Away from her and away from work, I was unfortunately able to reflect on my dilemmas again. I looked back through the opening to where Zoe was and thought about what Zoe might say if I told her what was on my mind. It would probably sound really weird to her. But at the same time she was my best friend. She was supposed to handle my weird.
I don’t know.
I think I’m going nuts here.
“So how was dinner with James?” Zoe asked, accepting her drink.
“Oh right,” I replied sitting down. “Yeah, that was an experience.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“You?”
“I always had a crush on him back in scho
ol. You never know, maybe he was getting in touch with you as a way to get to me.”
“Um…”
“What?”
“Shit, um…”
“No.”
I went white.
“No, Vera.”
Yep, still going white.
“You didn’t.”
I cleared my throat. Leaned back in my chair. “So did Mr. Redthorn have any further instructions for us today?”
“You slept with James Lancaster? Jesus-holy-hell.”
“What?”
“I had no idea you were so desperate.”
“Shut up,” I exclaimed. “I’m not desperate! You – you just said you had a crush on him!”
“Aha, yeah,” Zoe laughed. “Not anymore.”
“It wasn’t like we…”
“What? Had sex?”
“It was nothing. I’m … I’m probably never going to see him again.”
“Pfft. Yeah right.”
I leaned back further. Stared at her.
“You know I would have asked Jill if that Chester guy was into you if I knew you were looking to get jumped.”
“What…?” I mumbled. “Oh. Oh come on…”
“At least he has like … money…”
I stood up. Put my back to her.
“Vera. What is it?”
I turned slowly. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Ooh. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Zoe.”
“Ooh darling. What’s gotten you so twisted?”
I put my hands to my head. “Okay. I just don’t know where to begin.”
She rolled her eyes. “The beginning?”
The beginning.
And where was that exactly?
At which moment did things go from being normal to completely fucked up?
“I’m waiting,” Zoe said. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
“I’m in love with Mr. Redthorn.”
Zoe’s reaction wasn’t the greatest. She started giggling with a mouthful of tea and spilled a bit of it over her, before setting the mug aside. My hands curled into small fists ready to punch something. Hopefully it wouldn’t have to be her head.
“You know I’m not joking, right?” I demanded.
“That’s why it’s so funny,” Zoe gushed.
“You’re not making me feel awesome. I’m sorry to say.”
“What reaction were you looking for? I mean –”