by Stark, Rhona
I spent most of the afternoon putting numbers into spreadsheets. I got the a couple emails from Teresa. Exciting stuff like, ‘Go buy me a Starbucks,’ and, ‘I need the toilet. Keep my chair warm while I’m gone.’
Oh yeah, I forgot, the weirdest thing about Teresa is that she will only sit in a warm chair. Like, she says it’s bad for her to sit in a cold one. She says, ‘It’s bad for the buttocks to be cold.’ I know. It’s fucked up. So most of my days start with me warming up Teresa’s chair, while she paces her office calling people and smoking that e-cig of hers. What can I say, I’m a semi-professional chair-warmer.
I kept looking at my cell phone, wondering what Ms. X would be doing. Was she still at the Plaza, meeting people? I wondered what her office would be like (surely she’d have one, right?) and what her apartment was like.
Thinking about her apartment made me think about the kind of thing she might do at home. I imagined her getting home after a day of work, pouring herself a drink. I bet she drank something masculine, something you could be a real expert in. I bet she was a whiskey drinker. Scotch.
She’d take off her suit jacket, maybe undo a few buttons of her shirt. I imagined a little flash of the flesh of her chest. I wondered how big her breasts were. It’s sometimes hard to tell when someone’s wearing a suit. As I thought more about her, I began to squirm a little in my chair. I couldn’t help it.
After her drink, she’d probably want a shower. She’d have one of those ‘rain showers’, with a massive head, and the water would cascade down onto her hard body; first her long blond hair, making it wet and dark, then her beautiful face, her ample breasts, her toned stomach, and then, little trickles of water would make their way downward, towards the dark place between her legs…
My phone buzzed, and I nearly jumped out of my skin! I felt like someone had caught me, you know, masturbating! Even though my hands were well clear, resting on my desk, my head had gone to the dirtiest place imaginable.
For a crazy second, I thought it could be her, Ms. X. Then I remembered, she didn’t even have my number. No, it was Debbie, my friend.
Hey Cass, you still up for dinner tonite, bb? We’ve got series three of Girls to get through!
That’s more like it. No more thinking of women in that way. Just a night of Netflix with my best friend. Back to normal. Perfect.
CHAPTER SIX
I always loved walking through Jackson Heights to get to Debbie’s apartment. The mix of sights, sounds and smells were amazing - such a diverse, culturally rich area. Debbie’s building was on 83rd street, off Northern Boulevard. I loved looking back over my shoulder to see Manhattan glittering in the distance. Then, turning off the main road, the neighborhood became cozy and residential. I hoped to be able to buy my own place one day. It’d be great to settle down, maybe even have a family. Not until I’d climbed the greasy pole at work for a few years though, that’s for sure.
I’d known Debbie since high school. She’d always been a bit like a big sister to me, even though we were the same age. It just always felt like she was older, more mature, more, I don’t know, like, worldly or something. Her breasts grew before mine, and she started dating years before me. And of course, she’d had S.E.X. Heck, she was married now!
Andy was a great guy. He was kind, and loved Debbie to the moon and back. When they first got together, Debbie used to totally love telling me how good he was in the sack.
‘Cassie, his schlong is like, nine inches long,’ she’d say. I’d never even seen a schlong in my life, except for in a porno a guy made me watch once. I sure know how to pick ’em. And I have to say, the schlong I saw did nothing for me. It was so thick and purple and greedy-looking. I kept my eyes fixed on the woman’s parts (well - women’s parts - there were two of them) if I’m being honest, but I never assumed it’s because I found her sexually attractive or anything… she just looked… good… whereas the man looked… bad… oh jeez. Meeting Ms. X has really caused me to start re-contextualizing my life. Could it be that I’ve been a lesbian all along, without ever realizing it? Is that why I’ve been so reticent around men? Why I’ve always felt my sex drive has been a little on the low side? Is it because until now, I haven’t open my eyes to what I really want? And if I do want to have sex with a woman, is that going to make me start getting super horny all the time? Oh my goodness. What was I thinking about? Ah yes. Debbie.
She’d tell me about sucking Andy off, letting me know in intimate detail the techniques she’d use, how she’d lick his balls, use her hands on his shaft while kissing the tip of his cock. ‘I’m only telling you so you don’t make a fool of yourself when it happens to you,’ she’d say. It was gross.
And before she met Andy she was even more wild. Truth be told, there were times when I’d get worried about Debbie. We used to go out together for a drink or two, and she’d always stay out later than me, normally getting bought free drinks by a group of guys. She’d call me the next day, hungover, and spare no details in her descriptions of the things she’d done, of how many times she’d come. She was terrible! Sometimes I’d think that I was the weirdo, for not having loads of fun and sex. There were even times that I questioned my celibacy. What were my reasons for abstaining until marriage? I wasn’t particularly religious, and I didn’t think sex was bad , or anything like that. I guess I thought it was romantic to wait for the right guy. The right guy just never came along.
I guess Debbie’s wild days were over now though. She opened the door, and had her year old baby, Aidan, in her arms. Amazingly, she was pregnant, again ! Baby number two was well under way. Debbie had fallen pregnant only six months after little Aidan had come into the world. It made me feel weird to see my old friend with a baby in her arms, but it was beautiful too. And I guess it was everything I wanted; to settle down, have a family, and live a normal, wholesome life. At least, I think that’s what I wanted.
Just as I was about to say hello, Aidan screamed, burped and then, with a little soft cough, spit up over her mommy’s chest.
‘Aidan!’ she said, ‘Jesus Christ, this is clean. I’m sorry, Cass. Welcome to the mad house!’
I was about to give her a hug, but thought better of it, seeing as she was covered in baby puke. It was cute, in a way, I guess.
We went inside, and I waited for a few minutes with a cup of green tea as Debbie cleaned herself up. The green tea was acidic and bitter, nothing like the beautiful Darjeeling I’d had earlier that day. The Plaza seemed like a distant dream now. I had to keep reminding myself that it had happened to me, today .
‘So Cass, what’s the news?’ Debbie sat across from me in a large, pink armchair. It was one of those Chesterfields, leather, with buttons in the back. Pricey.
‘Not much,’ I said. I realized I hadn’t even thought about whether I should tell Deb about what had happened today. I knew she wouldn’t judge, but, it was just so not me. ‘I was late to work today and Teresa went totally berserk,’ I said, buying some time.
‘That woman is a nightmare,’ said Debbie. I always offloaded to Deb about my tyrannical boss. ‘And I can’t believe you don’t even get paid for doing what you do!’
‘It’s a good opportunity,’ I said, ‘and besides, Bryce-Smith are helping pay back my college loan. So they’re paying me in a way.’
‘That’s bullshit,’ said Debbie. Aidan let out a little cry, and her mom shifted him around in her lap. ‘I think he’s hungry. You don’t mind if I…?’
I’d kind of gotten used to seeing Cassie breastfeed Aidan. I definitely don’t have a problem with moms feeding their babies in public, not at all. I think it’s great it’s becoming more common to see moms feeding their babies. But, you know, this was my friend. This was my best friend’s boob. I know where that boob has been. I know, I know, it shouldn’t freak me out. But I’m afraid to say it did. A bit. And most women stop breastfeeding well before their baby is a year old, don’t they? I mean, she had another one on the way. I didn’t even know it was possible.
&nb
sp; I guess there’s quite a lot about adult life I didn’t understand yet.
‘Oh,’ said Deb, as Aidan got a nice big meal. ‘I forgot to say, I’ve got this guy you’ve got to meet.’
Jeez, not another gosh-darn blind date. Debbie was totally obsessed with getting me together with someone. She never shut up about it. Over the past two years, I’d been on six blind dates with people she’d introduced me to. One of them was the porno guy. He’d cooked me dinner at his place, which was nice enough, but after we’d finished eating, the weirdness happened.
‘So,’ he’d said, ‘Deb tells me your a virgin.’
That was almost enough to make me leave.
‘Um,’ I’d said, just staying totally silent.
‘I just thought, you know, it might be interesting for you to see something.’
He started playing me a video. I knew from the start that it was weird, cause the acting was like, totally lame, but when the two women (who were apparently step-mom and step-daughter, if you can believe that!) started kissing each other, I began to feel weird, and my face got all red. Then, a guy (who was supposed to be the step-father) came in, and the women had just grabbed him and ripped his pants off.
I know this must make me sound like a totally ignorant weirdo, but honestly, I was a good girl, I’d never ever looked at anything like this before. I felt like I was gonna pass out. That’s when I made my excuses and left. Can you imagine someone doing that on a first date? And Debbie had told me that this guy was nice .
‘I’m OK, Deb, really, and taking a break from dating for a few months.’
‘Taking a break? You barely do any dating at all! You’ve got to meet people. I worry about you.’
I nearly said, ‘I’ve met someone,’ but I thought about Ms. X, telling me not to say a word, and I kept my mouth quiet. But I blushed. I could feel it, that horrible warm feeling in my cheeks.
‘What’s up?’ she said.
‘Nothing,’ I said. Did she know something was going on? I didn’t feel like I’d given anything away.
‘You’re just blushing.’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘Um, must just be a hot flush?’
‘A hot flush? Are you menopausal?’
‘Look, no, of course not, I’m fine. You know what, sure, set me up on a date with this guy, whoever he is. I don’t care, maybe you’re right, maybe I do need to just meet someone. It could be good for me, I guess,’ I stopped to take a breath. ‘Maybe I just need to not have such high standards, maybe, it could be my fault. Jeez Deb, I’m sorry to rant like this, I just, I don’t know, I know I’m only young, but maybe I’m, running out of time.’
I always rambled when I was nervous, or anxious. That’s why I’d found being near Ms. X so amazing today. I hadn’t felt like I’d needed to talk, talk, talk, just to fill up the space.
‘Oh!’ she said, her eyes lighting up, ‘you’re gonna love him. His name is Travis and he’s an engineer. He’s really dependable and totally lovely. Andy met him on a conference last year. He’s just broken up with a long-term girlfriend, otherwise I would have gotten the two of you together sooner.’
‘Great,’ I said.
Great. An engineer who Andy met at a conference. What could be more exciting? More romantic?
‘Would you mind holding Aidan for a minute while I go to the bathroom? I feel like I’ve got a bladder the size of a pea ever since I got pregnant again.’
‘No, of course not, I’ll look after him.’
I think it was at that moment, when she passed me that little baby (who was way heavier than I expected her to be) that I decided I was going to send Ms. X a message.
I didn’t want this life. The quiet, domestic life. Although I’d agreed to meet this engineer, Travis, I knew that he wouldn’t be the right person for me. I knew because ever since I’d met Ms. X earlier that day, something inside me, a part that I’d been hiding away from the world my entire life, had started to open up. It wasn’t Travis I was looking for. Or any man.
I hugged Aidan and bounced him up and down on my knee a little, praying that he wouldn’t either poop or puke all over me.
Later that evening, after watching a few episodes of Girls and eating far too much ice-cream, I excused myself and went to bathroom. I took out my cell phone, and, suddenly struck by nerves, hesitated. Then I wrote the shortest text of my life.
…
My finger hovered over ‘Send’ for a moment. Should I really do this? For some reason, it felt like there would be no going back. Then, I heard Aidan screaming from the other room.
Without even thinking, I tapped, and the message was sent.
What I wasn’t expecting, dear reader, is how quick she was to reply.
It was there by the time I’d washed and dried my hands.
Call this number at 7:30pm tomorrow: 914-935-4384. Give the code SILENCE IS GOLDEN. I will see you shortly afterward. When we meet, say nothing. I look forward to it.
Silence is golden? What the heck did that mean? She didn’t tell me where we’d be meeting or what we’d be doing. This woman was something else.
Back in the living room, Debbie was slumped on the couch with Aidan. I sat back down, without saying a word. I felt, for once, like I was the one doing the naughty stuff, like I was the one living life to the full. I had a secret, and I wasn’t going to breathe a word of it to anyone.
Silence is golden.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Google really wasn’t being any help this morning. I tried again.
Mysterious woman Massimo Dutti suit New York Plaza
Nothing. Well, nothing useful, anyway. Lots of articles about whether or not Massimo Dutti suits were worth it, a couple articles saying that it’s not worth wearing a suit at all, and of course the Massimo Dutti website. I sighed and slumped back in my uncomfortable swivel chair.
This felt like the longest day of my life. I kept looking in the bottom right corner of my screen, checking the time. Ugh, 9:45am. The day had barely begun. Sure, I’d been in work since half seven to make up for yesterday’s tardiness, but I still had an age before 7:30pm. I wondered what would happen if I called the number early.
I tapped it into my cell phone, and was about to hit dial when a sudden thought stopped me. Would she somehow know? Maybe it was her office. Maybe it was her home number! I deleted the digits and put the cell back on the desk.
This room was so dark! It had to be the only room in a marketing office in the country with no windows. It felt as though it was the one place in the building that hadn’t been redecorated in the past ten years.
Hmmm, maybe I could Google the number.
914-935-4384
Nothing but some websites about reverse number lookup. It felt as though it wasn’t even real.
I wondered whether Ms. X was as excited and nervous about our date that evening. Stupid Cassie, of course she wasn’t! She was probably in meetings all day, maybe hitting her own private swimming pool at lunchtime, giving her secretary lists of things to do. Did it even count as a date? Were we going on a date? I mean, were we just going to meet up for sex?
Would you like to meet me again, in a more intimate setting?
That’s what she’d said. Was she just going to take my virginity? Was I going to have to give her the same speech I’d given to all the others, the one about waiting for the right person, the one where I tried to justify my decision to stay celibate to them over and over again, getting lost in a rabbit warren of badly thought-out arguments and stupid clichés?
Just then, an email came through. It was Debbie. I’d asked her not to send personal emails to my work address so many times! I’m sure Teresa had better things to do than to monitor my email (heck, she barely monitored her own), but there was always the chance that she’d spot something and I’d have to stay late for days on end.
Hey Cass!
So good to catch up with you last night - sorry Aidan was being such a pain. He must have tired himself out because he’s being good as gold today! So,
I got in touch with Travis, the guy I was talking about (pic and Facebook link attached). He is totally up for meeting you! When’s a good time? He can do tonight. I know it’s short notice, but you said you didn’t have any plans for the rest of the week. Let me know!
Speak soon - Deb xox
Holy crap, Debbie didn’t waste any time. And who was this guy Travis? Was he just like, waiting around to be asked on blind dates? Didn’t he have anything better to do with his Tuesday nights? Didn’t he have any mysterious, erotic strangers to meet at an undisclosed location at an undisclosed time?
I clicked the link to Travis’ Facebook page. There wasn’t much there - some more pics, and some quite boring links from friends and stuff. There were even *gag* a couple of buzzfeed-y type surveys he’d taken.
Which Cocktail Pairs Best With Your Personality? (he got ‘Pint Of Guinness’ - seems like that’s not even a cocktail).
Do You Actually Prefer Sex Or Food? (he got ‘Food’. Hmm).
Then I opened the jpeg that Debbie had sent along.
Hmmm. This guy was actually pretty good-looking. Kind of like, I don’t know, Tom Selleck. He was rugged, quite young, with stubble and a square jaw. The kind of guy I’d normally assume was my type. Maybe it would be worth meeting him. To test out my whole I-think-I-might-be-a-lesbian theory. If I met up with him, and I was attracted to him, I’d know I must be bisexual at the very least. And honestly, it would be a relief to finally be able to find out what I wanted. Who I was.
But I couldn’t meet him tonight. Tonight I had other plans.
I wrote a quick reply to Debbie saying that I wasn’t feeling that great, but that I’d be up for meeting Travis on Saturday, if he was free.
I tried to concentrate on my job for a while, and it kind of worked. I had to research a couple companies we were trying to get contracts with. One of them was a pretty well-known designer shoe brand which, we’d heard, was about to embark on a big advertising campaign. Spending a few hours looking at endless pictures of beautiful shoes got me in a dangerous mood. I’d planned to go get a new dress over lunch to wear tonight, but now I knew I just needed a brand new pair of black kitten heels to go with it.