My Body-Mine

by Blakely Bennett

  Returning to my room, breakfast plate in hand, I booted up my computer. As I ate, I checked my email and found one from Claudia with the countersigned contract. She said she’d have the edited novel to me in two weeks. Giddy, I glanced over at the current novel I was reading for a possible distraction and then back at the computer screen. Rolling my eyes at myself, I loaded Facebook.

  Not finding Sandy online, I did have to acknowledge the green dot lined up next to Chase’s name. You will not IM him first, I chided myself.

  Minimizing the webpage, I loaded up my journal. I wrote about getting published and my fear around sharing my story. My pen name offered some anonymity but my friends would know the truth. Then I recalled the feelings I experienced at the beach house and what it meant for me to have a key again. I had stored it in the zipper compartment of an old black purse I had hanging in the closet. My feelings for Marcello filled up a couple of paragraphs and the sex scene with Janice, a few pages.

  I truly hoped we could resolve our differences and that she’d give up whatever craziness she planned to execute in the restaurant. What Luke had once told me about Janice kept running through my mind. She’d keep pushing and pushing until he’d punish her. Is that what she hoped for from Marcello? To get his attention in any way she could? My drama-free existence had come to an abrupt end. I hoped we could reinstate it but I still had my doubts.

  Facebook alerted me to a message.

  Chase: Will it always be this way?

  Jane: What way?

  Chase: Me having to chase you? IM you first?

  Jane: It is your name …

  Chase: Fine!

  Jane: LMAO, I knew it!

  Chase: Knew what?

  Jane: It is your favorite word. LOL!

  Chase: :P

  Jane: Oh, very nice.

  Chase: I’d moon you if I could.

  Jane: I’d like to see that.

  Chase: Would you now?

  Jane: BTW, I’m never always anything.

  Chase: Good to know and I see how you’ve cleverly changed the topic.

  Jane: That’s me. Horribly clever.

  Chase: Another thing that’s good to know. Note to self, don’t mess with the clever girl.

  Jane: Woman.

  Chase: Picky too. WOMAN.

  Jane: :P

  Chase: I now see how it is. 

  Jane: LOL.

  Chase: So other than harassing me, what are your plans for today?

  Jane: Undecided.

  Chase: Maybe I can help you decide.

  Jane: Doubtful.

  Chase: So now we are reduced to one word answers?

  Jane: Nope.

  Chase: lol. Seriously though, have you gone for your run yet? We could meet at the beach.

  Jane: I don’t see that as being a good idea.

  Chase: Pray tell, why is that?

  Jane: You strike me as an intelligent guy. Figure it out.

  Chase: I completely respect your boundaries and I know you’re involved.

  Jane: I think your parents knew what they were doing when they named you.

  Chase: I forbid you to hold my name against me!

  Jane: Forbid? LOL. Good luck with that.

  Chase: Someone needs a spanking.

  I blushed over his words. Already worked up over our banter, I knew that going for a run, appealing or not, was a bad idea.

  Jane: I’m sure Marcello would concur. Most especially after this conversation.

  Chase: Why don’t you ask him? He might be fine with it.

  Jane: Having you give me a spanking? OMG.

  Chase: No, the run, silly.

  Jane: Have you ever considered that I don’t want to?

  Chase: Of course not. Because you do.

  Jane: :P

  Chase: Is that an admission?

  Jane: You will see me tomorrow night.

  Chase: No time like the present.

  Jane: Maybe another time.

  Chase: I’ll take what I can get.

  Jane: See you tomorrow?

  Chase: Signing off already? Did I run you off so quickly?

  Jane:  Maybe. Thanks for the chat.

  Chase: You too. Amusing as always.

  Jane: Bye.

  I quickly shut my laptop before I changed my mind and continued to engage with him. Laugher bubbled in my throat as our silly badinage ran back through my mind. Spanking indeed!

  I threw on my workout clothes and opted to run in the neighborhood. With food still digesting, I decided to do run/walk intervals. I selected Breaking Benjamin on my iPod and set out.

  The intensity of last night’s session with Marcello and Janice coupled with the titillation of my recent chats with Marcello and Chase had me all hot and bothered. The tightrope walk of friendship with Chase intrigued and stimulated but also scared me. I’d never, ever cheat on Marcello or break my word to him but I couldn’t ignore the fact that my guard against Chase had slipped just slightly. I enjoyed the flirting and friendship and knew I wouldn’t let it go any further but I still felt guilty that our friendship marked a betrayal of Marcello. Chase did offer me an outside view of my crazy living situation and I just had to remember to keep it all in perspective.

  After stretching and showering, I reread what I wrote earlier, refusing to add Chase to my journal. It would make him far more real than I was properly prepared to deal with. I wondered what had happened so far between Janice and the Dom who had borrowed her and if she was having a good time. Grateful for being spared those types of activities, I still felt curious. Hopefully she’d come home thoroughly used and satisfied and eager to talk, certain her experiences could make a terrific short story.

  Not knowing what to do with myself and not in the mood for any more reading or writing, I took a nap.

  * * * *

  I dreamt of the beach house again.

  The cloudless sky shone sunny, warm and bright. The French doors stood open and the crystal blue pool looked inviting. People I didn’t recognize occupied several chairs and chaise lounges. Chase came out, carrying a tray of martini glasses, a pitcher of clear liquid, and a small bowl of green olives.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked, my hands on my hips. “And who are all these people?”

  “What do you mean? They’re our friends, Jane.” He hurriedly placed the tray on the side table near him and clasped my hands. “Are you feeling okay? Are you having one of your episodes?”

  “Episodes?” I said, jerking my hands free. I scanned the outdoor deck and couldn’t find one person I knew. “Where are Parker and Andre?”

  “On their honeymoon … you know that. Darling, you really should sit down. Let me get you some water. Maybe you’re dehydrated?” He seemed incredibly concerned for me. I couldn’t process why he and all the other people occupied my home. Why he called me “darling” left me baffled and uncomfortable.

  I sat down and when he returned I asked, “Where is Luke? Are Marcello and Janice here?”

  “Have you been taking your meds?” he said in a stern voice.

  “Huh?”

  “Darling—”

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  “Okay, Jane, I’m losing patience with this. We have company and I need you to get it together,” he growled. Peering around anxiously and then softening his voice to a whisper, he said, “We agreed you wouldn’t mention ‘those’ people again.”

  I stared at Chase, but the man before me didn’t look like him anymore. He had morphed into someone else entirely. His narrowed eyes caused my breath to catch. I jumped up and ran through the house to my writing room, locking myself in. Breathing heavily, I leaned against the door, took out my cellphone, and texted Marcello: “Where are you?”

  Waiting for a response, I examined all the pictures and pieces of paper taped to the walls. Not recognizing the faces in the photos, I wondered if they represented characters in my newest novel. I felt lost. Why couldn’t I remember anything? One small red piece of paper caught m
y eye and I crossed the room to read what it said. In dark bold black text it read, “I have to cause you pain for me to love you.” My heart seized with a jolt of agony as another quote drew me to it. “Only sluts have nipples like yours.” I dropped to the ground as if the words themselves had dealt an electric shock.

  What’s happening to me? I thought. Just then a text came through. “You made your choice, Jane,” the text read.

  “Please, I need your help,” I texted back.

  “I can no longer help you,” he replied. “Please don’t text me again.”

  Totally desolate, I didn’t know what to do, what to believe.

  “Open this door,” a voice shouted, followed by pounding on the door.

  “Luke?” I said.

  “Yes, Jane. Open up.”

  I sprang to my feet and raced to the door, flipping the lock.

  * * * *

  I awoke with a start, sat up in bed, and clasped my head in my hands, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. Maybe going to the beach house hadn’t been the greatest idea. Sometimes my subconscious mind confounded me and left me wondering what it was attempting to sort out.

  Then I did something I hadn’t done for ages; I shuffled with my pillow and blanket into Janice’s room and switched on the TV. I needed the distraction. Flipping through Janice’s DVD collection, I selected Easy A and slid it into the player. I proceeded to laugh my ass off. The film paid homage to the John Hughes movies I loved in my youth. Easy A did the trick and I crashed in Janice’s bed knowing that only one day stood between me seeing Chase again and two days between Marcello’s return. I thought about the two men in my life and, as I fell asleep, fantasized about how it all might play out.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I won’t bore you with all the details of how I passed my time on Saturday until the main event. Suffice it to say, it took enormous willpower not to hop onto Facebook for more banter with Chase.

  I shaved and showered and let my hair dry naturally, parting it to the side. Staring in the mirror, I debated over applying makeup. Deciding to forgo lipstick, I opted for some chocolate brown mascara to highlight my green eyes.

  I’d checked for a dress code on the jazz club website and found only two restrictions—no sneakers or tattered jeans. Not much help to me. I stood in front of my closet as if something would jump out and dress me. Mr. Closet, please pick something for me. I laughed at myself to chase away the nervousness.

  I vacillated between a sundress with a sweater cover-up or jeans and a long sleeved green top that showed some cleavage. I finally reached for the multi-colored sundress and slipped it over my head. The dress stopped just above my knees and shimmied as I walked. The tight bodice forced my breasts up, flattering my figure by making my waist appear narrower. I reached into the closet and brought down a blue knitted sweater in case I found the club overly air-conditioned.

  Because some of the flowers in the dress were black, I slipped on my black strappy sandals with a low heel. Finally, I selected the only black purse hanging at the end of the closet. I gathered my keys, cellphone and lip moisturizer from the bathroom and dropped them into my bag. Checking my image in the mirror, I shook out my hair one last time and felt satisfied with my appearance.

  I’d love to be able to share that I floated calmly to the Camry, got in, and drove off. The last two parts happened accurately but my pulse had begun to race. Anxiety rapped on my psyche like the head-banger heavy metal music at a Metallica revival. How should I handle Chase in person after our playful chats? I hoped Parker would fill me in on the newest changes in her life so I’d be otherwise occupied.

  Once I arrived at the Jazzed for Blues Café, the New Orleans architecture and ambiance took over. Wrought-iron tables filled with customers winged both sides of the entrance to the establishment. I texted Parker while still seated in the car.

  Me: Here.

  Parker: Halfway down the bar on the left as you come in.

  Me: Coming.

  I sauntered into the café more confidently than I felt. Once I saw Parker alone at the bar, I felt some of the tension release. When she rose to her feet, I noticed the wooden stool was covered in green leather with brass studs—Marcello would love the style of this place.

  Stunning as ever, Parker towered over me as we hugged. She wore high-waisted black slacks, a cream-colored blouse, and high-heeled black boots. The overall effect made her legs seem to go on forever, and I worried that I might be underdressed.

  “Don’t you look cute,” Parker said as she sat down. “I’m so happy to see that you are taking good care of yourself.”

  “Thanks, Parker. It’s good to see you too. Where are the boys?”

  “They’re behind the stage with the band members. They should be starting their first set shortly.”

  Sitting down on the high stool next to Parker, I smoothed my dress underneath me. I felt grateful for the reprieve. “Let It Be Me” by Ray Montagne played in the background, very soft and bluesy and somewhat sad. It seemed to fit with the surroundings. The club’s décor, a mix of greens and wood with shiny brown marble flooring, gave it an elegant charm. Square tables diagonally lined the left side of the bar. Behind us I found walled off areas with curtains that could be drawn closed for private dinners and drinks. To the right of us cocktail tables and chairs surrounded the stage.

  We could see the stage from where we sat but would have to shift our stools to the side for better viewing.

  “How is work going?” I asked Parker.

  “Really well, but when you have a life, work becomes less important.”

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  “I can’t bring myself to put in the same kind of hours I used to. I’m no longer willing to go in on the weekends.”

  “I think that’s really great. How is being at work with Andre now that you’re a couple?”

  “We’re not in the same department so it’s not an issue. We’ve started talking about moving in together.”

  “Oh, how excellent! Your place or his?”

  “Probably his. He has more room and his place is actually closer to the office.”

  I wanted to advise her to keep her house but her relationship existed in another realm than the one I had with Luke. Instead I said, “I’m so excited for you.” I leaned in for a cheek to cheek hug.

  “I hear your book is going to be published.”

  “How do you know that?” I wondered if she had spoken to Sandy but that seemed unlikely.

  “Chase.”

  I had forgotten we had chatted about it. At the mere mention of his name I could feel my temperature rise.

  “Why the odd expression?” she asked. She scrutinized my face and then said, “Oh, you like him!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

  “Parker, I—” That’s all I got out. A hand on my elbow caused a frisson to race through me before I could even see the cause. Rounding toward Chase, I immediately blushed, wishing I could garner some control over my bodily reactions. I gave him a startled look and he laughed.

  “Nice to see you too,” he said. His eyes crinkled into laugh lines as he grinned at me. His smile seemed to imply he hid a secret that could spill at any moment. I tried not to scan his physique but I couldn’t help myself. His tight black jeans clung to his thighs and his purple cotton button-down shirt couldn’t hide his muscular arms and chest. The unruly curls framing his face and skimming his collar made him appear more bohemian than businessman.

  I quickly glanced away toward Parker. She raised an eyebrow at me, but then Andre wrapped his arms around her from behind, distracting her. She leaned her head back against his chest.

  “They make a good couple,” Chase whispered into my ear, still too close, raising goose bumps along my neck and arms. The faint, musky scent of cologne on his clean-shaven face perked my nipples as his pheromones activated my libido.

  “Hey dude, back up a bit, will you,” I said, playfully shoving him away.

  “So it’s ‘dude’ now?” />
  “It is when you invade my space,” I said, smiling.

  “Oh, sorry. I’ll behave. Just don’t call me dude or I might have to start calling you dudette. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

  I laughed, “Definitely not.”

  “Shall I ask for permission when I want to step in closer?” He gave me a cheeky smile.

  “That would be wise.”

  “Another note to self, ask permission before accosting gorgeous girl, I mean woman, in the flowery dress.” He raised an invisible pencil to place a period at the end of the sentence hanging in the air.

  “Hey guys,” Andre said, drawing our attention away from each other. “We have a booth near the stage.” He picked up Parker’s drink and we followed. They had reserved one of the inset tables with a horseshoe-shaped booth that could have comfortably held six people. Chase got in and slid around. Parker jostled me to go in after him, sandwiching me between Chase and herself as the heat still blazed in my cheeks over his compliment.

  We had a great view as the band began to settle in and tune up.

  Andre, still standing, caught the attention of the waiter and ordered a couple of beers. “Jane, what can I get you?”

  “Whatever sweet white wine they have. Oh, and a glass of water too, please.”

  “Are you hungry?” Chase asked. “The food is really good here. I can make some recommendations.”

  “No doubt,” I said, holding back my smile. “Not really hungry at the moment but maybe later.”

  Andre sat down as the server hurried away. I reached across Parker and touched his pinstriped sleeve. “Thanks,” I said.

  “Don’t mention it.” He put his arm around Parker and kissed her cheek.

  “Do you listen to much jazz?” Chase asked, drawing my attention back to him.

  “I like some jazz but it’s definitely not my favorite genre of music. Marcello likes it a lot so I hear it often.”

  “What’s your favorite?”

  “I can answer that,” Parker said, jumping into the conversation, “she loves that hard alternative crap, I mean stuff.” She winked at me. “Jane tells me it’s great for running but it just sounds like a lot of noise to me.”