Blind Seduction (Team Red)

by Hammond, T.

  *****************

  The public transit system is pretty good so we were able to catch a bus for downtown easily. Red and I took a nice long walk around Spokane's city center. While not large, the downtown area bustled with activity and we had a great time learning to maneuver around the lunch crowd.

  By two o’clock I was tired of walking and bribed Red with promises of a hotdog at Riverfront Park. Red wasn't sure what a hotdog was (he said it in a way that added a comic puzzled accent on the “dog” part), but I built it up with lots of emphasis about the meaty smell and the fact it was wrapped in bread.

  The Spokane River, regulated through downtown by a small system of dams, features a series of waterfalls. Bisecting the city is an artificially constructed diversion which created an area resembling a pond. The “pond” at Riverfront Park is actually a deceptively fast moving body of water which passes through an old power station's turbines, after which it resumes its course, and is dumped back into the river downstream.

  Spokane Falls is a focal point of Riverfront Park, which hosted the 1974 World's Fair. Pathways and spanning bridges interconnect the 100 acre park, hosting a small children's ride area, an antique, hundred-year-old carousel, and an IMAX theater. In the summer, sky gondolas take tourists and locals alike out over the river to view the beauty of thousands of gallons of water pounding the rocks in a series of spectacular waterfalls. This summer, Janey, Ken, and I had been frequent visitors to the concerts, and other special events, featured throughout the warmer season.

  Red and I found a bench area to relax at while we munched on park food. Hotdogs were a big hit with my new furry friend.

  While we sat in relative privacy, listening to the crash of water below us, I made an effort to explain last night's fiasco to Red. I tried to tell him about people and attraction. He understood the words I used, but it took a while before he understood the concept humans are mostly visual when it comes to their attractions and courtships.

  “Unlike dogs, we don't rely on taste or smell to figure out who we want to get to know better.” Red reminded me about Ken sniffing Janey's hair and I had to explain how that would have been considered a violation of her personal space if Ken had been a stranger. When people got to a point of smelling each other (does that only sound weird to me?) there is already an attraction and familiarity established.

  “People seem to be pretty stingy when it comes to giving respect, or love, to others, Red. Beyond a mate, we search our whole lives to find people who are worthy of our friendship and affection. Unfortunately, we have a tendency to screw up because we judge a person by what we see.” Red and I had an insightful disagreement regarding how well humans read body language. I marveled at how much I was learning from him.

  My very serious eight-month-old informed me people were not too bright. We relied superficially on someone's looks to determine a base attraction. That beginning is later strengthened by an individual's priorities, like intelligence, strength, or possibly physical fitness. Yet, we weren't aware enough to read obvious posturing and body language. “It's like you look at people, but don't see them. If you're so bad at reading visual clues, it doesn't make sense to rely on looks to pick your mates.” Yep, he had me there.

  Red had a hard time understanding why the drunk considered me inferior when he was obviously not worthy of me (I love my dog). I smelled good and healthy; by Red’s standards, this meant I would be potential mate material. Well, if I was a dog.

  Completely unaware of how much I needed the emotional lift, Red reminded me Alpha, at the restaurant, had found me attractive. I had to explain to Red, once Alpha had gotten as close as the drunk and saw I was flawed, he might have had the same reaction. The key difference was, being more self-assured and respectful, he possibly would have hidden it better.

  “He had a good look at you, Teresa. He was staring right into your face the whole time he was checking me over. The more he looked, the stronger the signals,” Red insisted. “His body language, words, posture, and scent said the same thing. He found you worthy.”

  I was happier as we rode the bus home and felt better prepared to face post-date Ken and Janey.

  Chapter Six

  Ohh gawd. I returned to not only post-date Ken and Janey; but more accurately post-coital-date Ken and Janey. It was painfully pathetic to watch the two of them hang all over each other... well, “watch them” metaphorically speaking, of course.

  It was lust spiraled terribly out of control. Sad really. My best friend and her un-gay boy toy were as smoochy, and as all over each other, as I warned Cat they would be. I was still having a rough time getting over the concept of Ken being straight, and plotting my revenge. Now I needed to get comfortable with him having carnal knowledge of my best friend. They probably thought they were being subtle with all their lovey-doveyness; they seriously underestimated how great my hearing was after the eight months of sensory shift from visual to audio.

  The two of them surfaced long enough to comment about my new shorter haircut. I ended up chopping off almost two feet of hair (which I felt wonderful about donating toward wigs for cancer patients). So, it now swung in a loose curtain around my face. Cyndi assured me the long bangs and chin-length cut swung forward, concealing my face when I tilted my head down a touch. Hiding, I know; after last night, I needed the camouflage and a big floppy hat wasn't gonna happen.

  Ken said it looked great. Of course he did, he was not only my friend, but a paid employee. Janey, on the other hand, was practically in tears. “Janey, it’s only hair for goodness sakes. It will grow back.”

  “But it’s so short! And it covers your face. I can't see anything but your sunglasses anymore!”

  Obviously my goal had been reached. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. “It’s easier to take care of now,” I soothed. “What’s the use of long hair when I always kept it pulled back or pinned up?”

  “Oh my god! You cut off your nails, too?” Janey wailed. The way she was carrying on, you’d think I hacked the heads off the pirate bears collection.

  I couldn’t resist teasing her. “It’s a good thing you can't see the skull and crossbones tattoo over my right ass cheek. I thought I might as well go all out on the make-over.”

  Ken snorted his coffee. At least, that's my best guess at what the muffled sound was. Janey was silent. It started as a soft giggle, then Janey laughed, and the stress of the room dropped dramatically.

  In a quieter, but determined voice, she asked, “What happened? You love your nails. You love your long hair.”

  Ah, the downside of a long-lasting friendship is eventually your friends know you exceptionally well. I gave an edited version of last night's disturbance, and I told Janey I didn't feel comfortable with my face exposed. Janey started to cry and got all clingy. Silly limpet.

  Eventually, Janey sniffled herself into a relative calm and told me the cut looked very nice and she was sorry she'd gotten all upset. Uh huh... I amended her description to silly lying limpet, but let it go. She was trying to be supportive.

  Ken made a nice meal of spaghetti and French bread, and we broached the subject of newly revised assistant hours. Ken agreed I didn't need him at the house twenty-four hours a day anymore. I was comfortable getting around, and I now had Red for company and support. Over dinner, we devised a new schedule, reducing his availability: nine in the morning to six at night, five nights a week. He still had a room at the house, but now had weekends off to correspond with Janey's schedule. It was agreed they would play (aka: have crazy monkey sex) at Janey's place where they would have privacy and I wouldn't be subjected to Janey's tears if he were having problems performing his studly duties. That earned a threat to have my bed short-sheeted next laundry day. Yeah, whatever.

  Feeling overfull with pasta and garlic bread, we all sat on the couch for movie night. Movie night at my house was a random evening where the sound is turned off on the TV. Janey and Ken take turns making up dialog and strange voices to describe t
he action. Tonight was a B-Movie spaghetti western (not an accidental choice considering dinner). Ken was cracking us all up by trying to find different lines to describe every time Clint Eastwood squinted into the camera. Eye actions ranged from a fierce “I wanna kill something” squint, to an evil “I'm gonna bust yer ass” squint, to a “Hey baby, yer kinda sexy—wanna screw up against a water tower?” squint.

  After dinner, I sat at the table with a slice of cheesecake and a mug of Seattle's Best coffee. Red had fallen asleep during the movie but was awake now, and chewing on a furry bone. The toy box he pulled it from was Janey's idea; teach a dog these are the things you can play with.

  I was contemplating if I wanted to try taking dance lessons at one of the studios in the area in an effort to ignore the activity on the couch. My patience finally ran out after about thirty minutes of whispered innuendos and stolen, lingering kisses. Yep, I was jealous, but sheesh, I was trying to drink my coffee and carry on a conversation with myself.

  “Ken, can you drag my friend out of here? By the hair if necessary. You two are not as quiet as you think you are,” I informed them. “I heard a zipper being lowered, and I don't want you two fooling around on my couch.”

  After much good-natured ribbing, and thankfully, the sound of a zipper being reversed, my two friends left me in blessed peace.

  Chapter Seven

  ** Friday, July 11th **

  I rolled over in bed, groping wildly for my phone, which insisted Girls Just Wanna Have Fu-uuunn... “Arrgg, what time is it? The only acceptable way to wake me is with coffee.”

  “No problem! I can arrange coffee,” Janey chirped, clearly having already had some herself. “And it is seven-sixteen a.m., lazy bones. Happy Friday! Rise and shine!”

  “What are you so perky about this morning?”

  “Bas is here. We are going to breakfast and swinging by to pick you up on the way. Be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, you are so not dragging me out anywhere with your brother,” I protested. “Red and I had a nice mellow day yesterday. I am not going to let those two hours relaxing in a hot tub be wasted.” A leisurely yawn escaped before I snuggled back down under the covers. “You guys have fun. I am sleeping... ” I let loose with a loud, very fake, snore. “I'm going back to bed now. Bye.”

  “Don't you dare hang up! We will be there in a quarter-hour, whether you are dressed or not,” Janey threatened. “It’s time you two tried to make nice.”

  Without another word, she hung up. Glaring toward the phone in my hand, I was stunned she hung up on me, after specifically telling me not to hang up. Crap! I did not want to go to anywhere near Bas the Ass.

  With a sigh, I reluctantly swung my legs over the side of the bed. It appears I was going to have to get dressed and let my friend, no… no… definitely fiend today, take me to breakfast.

  “Red, come on downstairs so you can go outside. We have company coming over.” I let him out into the backyard while I returned to my room upstairs. Dressing was easy: appropriate underwear, jeans, random t-shirt, and sneakers. I ran a quick brush through my hair and used some of the product Cyndi gave me to keep my new-do under control and smoothed down. Teeth cleaned and I was ready to go.

  I was on the stairs when the front door opened and Ken announced himself. “I've been elected to come get you. There are five of us, so we don't have room for Red. I'll be your guide dog for the morning. Woof woof!”

  “Oh joy,” I told him. “I’d better put a couple biscuits for you in my coat pocket. Speaking of coats, how is the weather?”

  “Typical July. Sunny; a lot like your disposition this morning.”

  “Ha ha,” I replied wittily. “Let me check with Red. I'll see if he wants to stay outside or come in.”

  Red decided to stay out and enjoy the morning. As Ken led me to the car, I promised myself this fiasco would all be over in a couple hours. I could go back to avoiding Bas the Ass for another decade. At the curb, Ken told me we were taking Janey’s SUV, and I was to slide into the center of her backseat.

  “Holy shit!” Bas' voice near my ear let me know he was standing outside the car, likely in order to facilitate my sliding in. “You cut your hair off!”

  “Hey Bas, nice to see you too.” Ignoring the comment about my hair, I ducked past Bas, with Ken's assistance, and slid quickly into the back seat.

  I was completely unprepared when my hand connected with a rock hard thigh. Startled, I lost my balance and would have fallen forward except for the hand reaching out to steady me. “Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I hadn't realized there was someone else here—I mean Ken said there were five of us, but—“

  “No problem,” the unidentified male chuckled with smooth masculine confidence, politely interrupting my rambling apology. Unbidden, my conversation with Red came to mind, and I fought the urge to take a deep sniff. “Although, a woman has usually bought me a drink, and asked my name, before she’s comfortable enough to feel me up.”

  Thoroughly embarrassed, I sat down and faced the front seat, bowing my head so my hair could swing forward to cover my face. I liked this hair cut more and more. Screwing my eyes tightly closed, I took a breath, through my mouth, before asking in a low voice, “Could you please tell me if my seatbelt is to the right or left of me? I'm sure Bas will get impatient if he has to wait.”

  Bas' voice was close to my right ear. “I'm in no rush. More than happy to wait on a woman.” He touched my hand, and I'll admit I flinched away from him. My dislike was more deeply ingrained than I remembered. “I was going to put your hand on the buckle,” he growled. His voice was a mixture of sex and menace. God, I needed to grow a backbone.

  “Is it beside my leg?” I asked quietly, tentatively laying my hand on the seat beside me. I was pretty sure I hadn't felt his body move fully into the vehicle, so I wasn't worried about groping him like I had his friend. He didn't bother answering when he saw I found the belt and carried it over my lap.

  My hand stopped mid-movement, unsure of how I would get it buckled without inappropriately brushing my hand against the other passenger's hip. In the same quiet voice I'd used with Bas, I said with at attempt at teasing humor, “May I ask for your assistance in buckling the clasp? I feel I have already gotten too familiar considering I haven't even learned your name yet.”

  “I'm David,” came an answering chuckle, “and happy to help.” The buckle was removed from my fingers, and with a light tug, clipped into place beside me.

  “Saint Teresa, you're still so goddamned courteous,” Bas mocked as he slid in and rudely bumped my leg. He had no problem touching me as he secured his seat belt. I don't think I imagined the extra little caress against my hip. The Ass.

  I felt stiff and uncomfortable sandwiched between the two large men. I already knew Bas was a tall guy, and it felt as if his friend David was also big and imposing (especially if his hard thigh was any indication). I kicked myself when I reflexively tucked my arms across my body; a futile attempt to avoid touching either of them.

  Bastian, not known for subtlety, “So what's with the hair? It’s always been long. Why’d you hack it off?” His voice was combative, like I'd done something wrong and he was planning on arguing about it.

  From the front seat, Janey intervened. “She cut it a couple days ago. Some asshole the other night made a comment...”

  “Janey!” I snapped, sharply.

  “But...” she tried to continue.

  “Janey! Just drop it. Please,” I added in afterthought. I knew I was being rude. I couldn't help it. This was Bas the Ass, and I was NOT going to give him ammunition to torment me. “I wanted it short. I cut it. End of story.” My words were crisp and I expected no more comments on my hair.

  “And what's with your nails?” he continued, gruffly. “You've always had those claw things done in funky colors.”

  Beyond annoyed, I went on the offense. “Who are you, the fashion police? You haven't seen me in years Sebastian, what makes you think you know me well enough to presum
e anything about my likes, or dislikes? If you plan to spend breakfast criticizing my looks and fashion sense, Janey can turn the car around. I’d prefer to spend time with my dog—HE likes me."

  Bas was silent. “You're right, old habits die hard. I don't want to fight,” he offered as a half-assed apology. “You've always had long hair, I see it in all the photos Janey sends me. I don't think she's sent me one picture over the years which didn't have both of you in it. I've never seen your hair cut, or your nails short. It surprised me, that's all.

  “The huge boulder at your other side is my friend, David Preston,” Bas continued, no doubt hoping to change the subject. “We served together the last four years and got out of the Navy within a couple of days of each other. I talked him into coming out to Spokane with me to see if he'd like to settle in this area.”

  I turned my head slightly in David's direction, making a conscious effort to tilt my head so my hair brushed my cheeks and shaded my face. “Spokane is wonderful, David. I'm sure you'll love it here. I've traveled quite a bit, but I think this area is one of the most beautiful I've seen.”