Against the Ropes

by Sarah Castille

  “Beg, borrow, and steal, Ms. Delaney. I can assure you the last

  thing you want is for me to run down to court and get an order to seize

  your parents’ home and your paycheck.”

  “What about the Education Commission? Did they contact you

  about my complaint? Are the payments frozen yet?”

  I hear a familiar rattle on Sergio’s end of the phone—like a hospi-

  tal gurney. More rattles. It is a hospital gurney. Maybe he’s visiting a

  friend. Do debt collectors have friends?

  “They were very efficient with your file,” Sergio says. “Apparently,

  after you accepted your new position, they reevaluated your file and

  cancelled the deferment. They sent you a letter to that effect informing

  you that your payment obligations had been reinstated.”

  “I didn’t get it.”

  “It seems from the file, they sent it to your previous address.”

  “What?” My voice rises in pitch and I throw the covers off. “I told

  them my new address when I moved.”

  Someone coughs in the background on Sergio’s end and I can hear

  the tinny sound of a PA. Definitely a hospital. Why would he call me

  from a hospital? Is he that dedicated to his work?

  Sergio sighs. “You have issues with them, you deal with them. All I

  care about is the money you owe.”

  “Please Sergio. Can I pay part of it? I’ve got extra work and I’ll be

  able to pay the rest next week.”

  “Unfortunately for you, I get a big fat bonus if you make all your

  rehabilitation payments on time, and an even fatter bonus if I get all the

  money at once, say from a foreclosure. And I need that bonus—” He

  cuts himself off, choking on his words.

  Seriously? He’s getting upset over the possibility he won’t get

  his Porsche?

  “Has the clock started ticking?” I scramble to find a way out.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Is your bonus calculated from the day I make the first payment or

  the day you first called me?”

  Sergio gives a thin laugh. “Clever. I’ll be honest with you. It’s cal-

  culated from the day of your first payment.”

  “What if I tell you a really good joke? Can I have an extra week?

  It won’t affect your bottom line. I’ve never sworn at you or called you

  names or hung up on you. It must be hard to have people be nasty all

  day. But if you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.”

  Silence.

  “Sergio?”

  “I’m thinking. This is quite novel. I’m trying to decide if it would

  affect my bonus.”

  Jeez. This guy’s materialistic streak makes me ill. But I can do obse-

  quious like the best of them. “I’ve seen the lineup for next year’s Porsche

  collection. To be honest, you would be better to wait.”

  “You know about cars?”

  I fall back against the pillows. He hasn’t said no, which means he might

  say yes. “My stepfather is into cars. I go with him to all the auto shows.”

  “You continue to surprise and delight me Ms. Delaney. Tell me

  your joke. If it makes me laugh, I’ll give you an extra week. It won’t

  affect my bottom line, and I could use a joke right now.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to slow my racing heart. Although

  our conversation has been cordial, I can’t ignore the underlying threat.

  My brain blanks. This is all so new. So foreign.

  And that reminds me of a joke.

  “Three debt collectors are captured by cannibals…”

  Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

  Amanda answers her phone on the fourth ring. “How was dinner?

  Did you sleep with him?”

  “No. I need—”

  “You didn’t sleep with him?” Her voice rises with incredulity.

  “No, but the debt collector called my house, and I need—”

  “What happened?” she interjects, yet again. “It was the perfect set

  up. Cozy dinner at his house. Talk about the relationship. Engage in hot

  and heavy makeup sex.”

  “Amanda. I have a problem.”

  “You sure do, honey. If you haven’t been able to get Max into bed

  by now, you need some special help.”

  “He tied me naked to his motorcycle at Twin Peaks and walked

  away, and I liked it,” I blurt out.

  Silence.

  “Amanda?”

  “I just knew he was kinky…” she breathes, “…like Drake, who is,

  by the way, in my kitchen getting a glass of water to rehydrate after our

  night of festivities.”

  “Doctor Drake is at your house?” My voice rises in pitch. “You

  slept with Doctor Drake?”

  “Jake is avoiding me,” she snaps. “It won’t do. And since we’re

  broken up, Drake was more than happy to help a girl in need. He knows

  the score.”

  “He’s my boss!” I shriek. “You can’t sleep with my boss.”

  “Ooops. Too late. The deed is already done. Multiple times.”

  “Nooooo!” I am reminded of Edvard Munch’s painting, The

  Scream. No doubt his muse was someone who discovered her best

  friend was sleeping with her boss.

  “He certainly has creative ideas about how to use a thermometer,”

  she giggles. “And a stethoscope and—”

  I hold the phone away from my ear. “Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me.”

  “You should try it some time.” Her voice takes on a teasing lilt.

  “You might like it.”

  I wrap the sheet tight around my body as if she might suddenly

  appear with the aforementioned medical instruments. “I won’t. I’m not

  into kinky stuff.”

  “How would you know? Yesterday was your first experience.

  When you do finally get Max into bed, he’s going to think he’s the

  luckiest man alive. You’re like a virgin minus the virginal bit. A blank

  slate. He can mold you to fit his kinkiest desires, and you’ll think it

  is normal.”

  My body heats imagining Max’s kinkiest desires. Suddenly, the

  sheet is too hot and I kick it off, letting the cool air soothe my burning

  skin. “I’m not totally unaware of what goes on in the bedroom.”

  “Trust me, you are.”

  I suck in a breath. “Do you think Max is into…kinky stuff?”

  “Did any of your other boyfriends strip off your clothes and tie you

  to a motorcycle?”

  “No.”

  “Did he just happen to have some rope or other restraining

  device handy?”

  My stomach sinks. “Yes.”

  “Then I diagnose a severe case of kinkiness, and you’re going in the

  deep end.” She giggles and whispers something intelligible.

  “Is Doctor Drake in the room? Are you letting him hear our con-

  versation?” I bolt upright in the bed.

  “He’s just gone out again to look through the pie cupboard where

  I keep my sex toys. We didn’t spend much time in the bed—mostly in

  the kitchen, on the couch, the dining table, the shower, and out on the

  balcony. You missed out big time. He is kink on a stick. And with his

  knowledge of female anatomy—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. What about Jake? If he was pissed off with

  your games before, I can’t imagine he would be happy to know you are

  sexing it up with my BOSS
.”

  Amanda snorts a laugh. “Since when did you become the expert

  on men? I thought you just told me you didn’t even get Max into bed.

  What happened?”

  I twist the sheet in my hand. “I…It was so intense it scared me, and

  I didn’t like that he made me like it. I tried to talk to him about it after-

  ward, but I couldn’t explain myself and he didn’t seem to understand.

  It kind of ruined the mood. Eventually we decided it would be best to

  call it a night.”

  “Poor Max,” Amanda chortles. “He must have had a hard night

  after dropping you off.”

  “Amanda!”

  “Text him. Let him know you’re okay.”

  “I’m not okay. I’m confused.”

  “Tell him that, too. And for the record, he didn’t make you like it.

  You like it or you don’t like it. It’s all up to you.”

  I wriggle under the covers and pull them over my head. I am going

  to hide here all day. No debt collectors. No kinky fighters. No friends

  sleeping with my boss. “You aren’t making me feel any better, and he

  wasn’t even the reason I called. I have another problem—”

  Amanda’s voice drops to a low rasp. “He’s sucking my toes.”

  “Euwww. TMI. And I’m sure he can hear you. Does he know

  it’s me?”

  “No,” she whispers. “And he can’t hear me. He’s under the covers.”

  “Please. Take me away,” I whimper.

  “You’re safe. He’s just slithered out of the bed and is racing toward

  the kitchen. He’s so exciting. I never know what he’s going to do next.”

  My stomach churns. “Don’t tell me anymore. Every time I look

  at him at work I’m going to have inappropriate images in my head.

  What if I blurt out something without thinking? What if we’re in a

  meeting and someone says something about toes? I won’t be able to

  control myself.”

  “Oooooo. He’s been through my toy stash and now he wants to

  play,” she murmurs. “He’s holding things up one by one to—Bad dog.

  Get off the bed. Stop. Don’t bite the pillows. Oh, wait. Those aren’t

  pillows.” She bursts into laughter. Well, at least one of us is having fun.

  “I’m hanging up,” I say morosely.

  “No wait. The debt collector.” She mumbles something and I hear

  the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking. “You have to find a way to

  shut him down.”

  “But—” I have too many questions and I need her full attention.

  “Do you have time to meet up for coffee?”

  Amanda giggles. “I think I’ll be staying in bed today. Drake has

  brought in a bowl of ice, a bag of clothespins, a packet of twist ties, a

  cucumber, and a bottle of hot sauce. Ooooh. And a pair of handcuffs.

  Where do you think he found those?”

  I sigh. “I don’t think he would have had to look too hard.”

  “Oh wait, someone’s at the door. Hold on. I’ll be able to give you

  my full attention once I’m out of the bedroom.”

  She breathes into the phone and I imagine her walking through her

  country chic living room filled with pastel antiques and cozy chintz. A

  lock clunks. A door creaks.

  “Jake!” She gives a squeak of horror.

  My pulse races. “Get him out of there,” I whisper. “Don’t let

  him see—”

  “Who’s that?” Jake’s shout is so loud I hold the phone away from

  my ear. “Damn it Amanda, you didn’t waste any time did you?”

  “You wouldn’t see me.” Her voice is thin, high and almost unrec-

  ognizable. My eyes prickle with tears.

  “So you jump into bed with the first guy who comes along?” he

  shouts. “When the going gets tough, Amanda gets laid? Is that about it?

  Is that how you handle a relationship? Is that all I meant to you?”

  “Jake,” she whispers. Her voice is thick with horror and regret.

  I slap my hand over my mouth. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve

  never heard her sound so desolate.

  “If I never see you again, it will be too soon.” The door slams.

  Amanda draws in a breath and a sob rips from her throat.

  “I’m on my way, honey.” I end the call and jump out of bed.

  No Max for me today. Tension eases from my shoulders. I have a

  little breathing room.

  .....

  Hi Max

  How is my girl today?

  Ok

  Just okay?

  Just ok

  Because of me?

  U and other things

  I’m coming over

  U can’t. I’m going 2 c Amanda

  We should talk

  She needs me

  I need you

  She needs me more

  **frowns** I want to see you

  I’ll send you a picture

  Now?

  No. I’m not dressed

  Waiting for picture

  You want me to sext you?

  Waiting for picture

  I’m a sexting virgin

  Waiting for picture

  I might get hurt

  How?

  Your phone is so big **trembles**

  True. Phones don’t get any bigger than mine

  So modest

  Waiting for picture

  I’m not that kind of girl

  What kind of girl are you?

  Naked kind

  Max likes naked kind

  Confused kind

  Max likes confused kind

  Sorry kind

  Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you

  I was scared

  I know, baby

  But also **blushes**

  Max likes **blushes**

  I have 2 go or I’ll miss the bus

  I’ll send Lewis to take you. He’ll wait until you want to go home

  No need. Bus is fine

  You take care of Amanda, baby. I’ll take care of you

  .....

  “Mac, I have a favor to ask.” Dr. Drake flips my desk sign to Closed and

  rounds the partition to join Big Doris in my cubicle.

  My stomach twists and I clasp my knees together and look down.

  After the unwanted glimpse into his sexsational life, I’ve been trying to

  keep my distance from him for the last two days. But fate has seen fit

  to reward me with Big Doris and Kink on a Stick in my cubby at the

  same time.

  “Good morning, Doctor Drake.” Big Doris blushes and looks

  down at the stack of green slips in her hand. “I was reprimanding Mac

  yet again. She had two pens point up in her pen box. It violates our

  health and safety protocols. We don’t want employees to accidentally

  drop a hand on the pen box and get stabbed. She whips a green slip of

  her pad and drops it on my desk.

  Dr. Drake frowns and grabs the slip. “I hardly think that is conduct

  worthy of a green slip.”

  Big Doris’ nostrils flare but she recovers quickly. “Of course. What

  was I thinking?” She gives me the sweet smile of a fox about to rip the

  head off a chicken. I predict a hailstorm of green slips coming my way.

  “Perhaps I could help you.” She lays her hand on Dr. Drake’s arm

  and bats her tiny, pale eyelashes.

  Ignoring the quivering Big Doris in front of him, Dr. Drake drops

  a gold envelope on my desk. A meaty hand snatches it up. “What’s

  this?” Charlie asks, coming up be
hind me.

  Seriously? My cubicle is barely big enough for one, much less three.

  I slide my chair to the corner and hold my knees to my chest.

  Dr. Drake raises an eyebrow. “Mr. Brown, don’t you have work

  to do?”

  Charlie shakes his head. “No.”

  “Are there not patients who require admitting?”

  “Not by me.”

  Dr. Drake sighs. “I suppose you could all help me out. The

  hospital is having a black-tie charity fund-raiser at the Regency Center

  on Thursday night. We need people to circulate and solicit donations.

  We also need people to help with the heart auction.”

  “Heart auction?” Charlie’s eyebrows fly up. “Someone’s donating

  their heart?”

  Dr. Drake rolls his eyes. “The hospital has solicited famous artists,

  jewelers, and sculptors as well as patients and the public to create and

  donate a heart in any material or on any medium to be auctioned for

  the benefit of the hospital. It is most entertaining. No one knows the

  provenance of the heart they have bid on until the end of the auction.”

  “I heard last year someone bid one hundred thousand dollars for a

  glass heart, thinking it was a Chihuly, only to discover it was bought at a

  dime store and painted by one of our four-year-old patients,” Big Doris

  titters. “Count me in.”

  “Me too.” Charlie gives Big Doris a wink and she shudders.

  “What about you, Mac?” Dr. Drake snatches the invitation from

  Charlie’s hand and slides it across the desk to me. “We could use all the

  help we can get.”

  I want to help, but I’ve spent every evening this week consoling

  Amanda. Max will not be pleased if I cancel our date so I can spend the

  evening with Mr. Humping and Pumping.

  “Um. I’m sorry. I’ve got other plans.”

  Dr. Drake tilts his head to the side and studies me. “The money

  will be used to buy badly needed equipment for the children’s ward.

  The more people we have, the better chance we have of making the

  fund-raiser a success. I could authorize overtime pay for all of you.

  Triple time. It is a work function, after all.”

  I make a quick calculation. Triple time plus two nights at the club

  would more than cover the next payment to Sergio and then some. I

  sigh a dejected sigh. “Count me in.”

  Dr. Drake beams. “Done. I can give you a ride. I saw you a few

  times at the bus stop after work. Charlie told me you sold your car.”