Professor Camille Kent was famous for her class on social stereotyping. Active in human rights issues, Camille was a charismatic lecturer who inspired many a student to become more involved. Kevin ate the course up. He was one of those students who really became immersed in his classes and loved learning—like I said, just charming.
Through Kevin I knew Biff, or at least I knew stories about people like Biff. Maggie was ecstatic. I told her I could not reveal anything that Kevin had told me, but I could help with a personality profile on a prototypical member of their fraternity and the fraternity mentality. Because Kevin was questioning the fraternity, he spilled his guts on everything that went on in the house. It was an eye-opening experience to say the least and included everything from the macabre (stealing cadavers from the medical school) to the barbaric (throwing an empty keg at a potential love interest).
And now Kevin stood at the Kingfish with someone I assumed to be one of the worst offenders. Now, I never knew if Biff stole cadavers or tossed a beer keg, but from what we had gathered from Cindy, the potential was definitely there. I examined Biff’s face to see what I could gather. He was handsome enough but had snotty old-money WASP superiority plastered all over his face. It had the effect of making him appear cold, the type that might become less good looking the more you got to know him.
“Do you think he’s good looking?” Maggie nodded toward Biff.
“Maybe superficially, but there doesn’t seem to be anything to back it up. No substance,” I said.
“Uh huh. Do you, uh, think Nick is good looking?”
Aha! My little speech had gotten her to think.
“Are you kidding? Nick is very handsome.”
“But not better looking than Bill.”
“Uh, yeah, much better looking than Bill.”
I couldn’t believe Maggie thought Bill was better looking than Nick. I guess that’s what love—and time—does to a person. Bill was nice looking, but Nick was much more traditionally handsome.
“Really?”
“Really.”
We pondered that over our beers for a second. Then Monique entered. It was nine o’clock sharp. Now, I’ve gotta tell you, Monique is a woman who knows how to make an entrance. She had on a short black leather skirt, a white camisole top, and a tuxedo jacket draped over her shoulders. Monique’s got these really long legs that were only accentuated by the black tights that traveled down to black heels. She stood in the doorway for a moment as every head turned to look at her. I could tell she was reveling just a bit in the effect it was having. She enjoyed freaking the college crowd out a bit every now and then with her image.
Monique made a point of checking out the scene before sauntering over and taking a seat next to Biff at the bar. The boy looked like he might faint on the spot.
“Well, hello, Robert.”
“Uh, hi, Professor DeVillier.”
“Call me Monique. We’re off campus and you’re not taking my class anymore.”
“Yeah, about that…”
“Shhh. Like I said, we’re off campus now.” She took a look around. “So, this is where you students congregate.”
“Yeah, the Kingfish is the place to be.”
“I thought so,” she said. “Actually, I was hoping I just might find you here.”
“Me?” His voice actually squeaked.
“Oh, Robert, don’t you know how fascinating I find you?”
Monique looked deep into his eyes. At first, I thought Biff might slide off his barstool, but soon his bluster took over and the cocky spirit returned. This would be his undoing.
“I’ve been told I have that effect on women.”
What a bozo, right? Maggie and I snickered. Even Kevin rolled his eyes and left to sit with some friends. I know Monique was probably having a hard time keeping a straight face, but she kept up her role. She moved maybe an inch closer to him, which had a perceptible physical reaction on poor Biff. We were banking on the ole teacher-student seduction fantasy—a very popular fantasy among males in Biff’s age group, I have to say.
“If you would like, Robert, you may buy me a drink.”
“Well, sure, Prof, uh, Mon, uh, sure.”
A flash of the little boy came back, and he still couldn’t bring himself to use her first name. That was a good sign. Now we just had to wait for Cindy to arrive and the fireworks would really begin.
Monique had already caused Biff to have to rush off to the men’s room three times by the time Cindy arrived. Luckily, he was back at the bar and putting his embarrassingly bad moves on Monique when Cindy entered.
It was another grand entrance. Cindy looked absolutely enchanting. She was wearing a very pretty cotton print sundress that was, at once, very feminine and figure flattering. Maggie had astutely helped Cindy find an outfit that would not compete with the kind of ensemble Monique was wearing. Cindy had pulled her hair back to show off her pretty face and was accompanied by a hulking god of a man.
“Who is that?” I asked Maggie.
“One of Mike’s rugby players. Connor. He’s Australian.”
“He’s unbelievable.”
“Yeah, Mike did good. Listen, do you think that Nick was upset about what happened last night?”
I snapped my head back from the Adonis to concentrate on Maggie.
“Of course, he is. He really likes you, Maggie. In fact, I’m sure he’s sitting home tonight wondering if he’s going to hear from you.”
Okay, so I knew he was home waiting to hear from her.
“Maybe you should go over and at least talk to him, Maggie. Let him know how you feel…”
“Maybe.”
Cindy moved through the crowd with Connor, and they took their place about five barstools away from Biff and Monique. I noticed Kevin looking over at Cindy with a stunned look and wondered if there was anything between them—it wasn’t something he’d discussed with me.
Biff looked over at Cindy and seemed rather surprised that she was there with such a hunk, but when Monique threatened to move away (I think she got about a quarter of an inch), Biff turned his attention back to her.
“Who is that?” Monique inquired of Biff.
“No one important.”
His smarmy smile sickened me. What a prick. Luckily, Cindy continued to play her part and giggled and flirted with Connor at the bar. He seemed to be making it easy for her. Just as I wondered where Mike was, he slid into the booth.
“Howdydoo, ladies. What’s up?”
The guy definitely had energy. Mike was a real character—a big lovable bear of a guy once you got past the macho posturing.
“How’s my boy doing?”
Mike looked over at Connor and Cindy, who were toasting their drinks and grinning.
“I’ve got backups ready to go in at a moment’s notice, should we need them.” Then Mike noticed Monique with Biff. “Woah, baby. Is that Hard Ass? Nice. Very nice. Say, when’s the server coming by? Are there servers, or do I have to go to the bar?”
“It’s easier if you go to the bar.”
“Gotcha. I’ll go give Hard Ass a little ogle and be right back. Before I do, should I send another guy in to hit on Cindy? No, I’ll wait. No, maybe I won’t. Okay, see ya.”
With that, Mike took off, winked at Monique, sidled up to another husky guy, and ordered a drink. The husky guy then made a point of passing directly in front of Biff and Monique to yell, “Hey, Cindy—haven’t seen you since the party at Phil’s.”
The husky guy then sidled up to Cindy, gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and began chatting away. Cindy looked surprised but went along with it. Biff again noticed and showed perhaps a twinge of being bothered, but then Monique recrossed her legs, and he quickly returned his attention to her.
Maggie turned back from watching the group at the bar. “Is it me or does this place ju
st reek of sex?”
“Thinking of Nick?”
“No, no, well, yeah. I guess I’m just confused.”
“Don’t you think he is, too?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maggie, if I’ve learned anything from counseling people, it’s that we are all scared shitless, especially of being vulnerable. But life is too short and too precious to hide ourselves in a closet because we’re scared. We have to act on our feelings. Yes, we might get hurt, but at least we feel. Come on, Maggie, don’t you know how rare it is to find someone you care about the way you care about Nick?”
“Yeah, I do. Want to know what’s really funny about Nick?”
“What?”
“He seems to understand me so well—practically anticipates my every move.”
“That’s great.” Okay, so the anticipating thing was the AWAC, and I felt a small tinge of guilt but, hey, it was making her feel good.
“Okay, yeah, okay.” Maggie pulled out her phone and walked outside to get some quiet.
Whoosh—all this drama was exhausting. I turned back to look at the scene at the bar. It was playing out nicely. Monique and Biff had their heads burrowed close. Cindy now had four guys around her and seemed to be enjoying herself. The next thing I knew Kevin had taken Maggie’s place in the booth.
“Hi, Dr. Fischer.”
“Kevin. Thank you for coming and helping out.”
“With the way Biff treats Cindy, I’m happy to help—only, who are the guys?”
“Friends, why?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Kevin, do you have feelings for Cindy?”
Kevin took a deep breath. He’d had a few drinks, and they were taking their toll. The boy had definitely not developed a tolerance for alcohol in the fraternity. He looked up, his blue eyes peeking out from under his curly blond bangs.
“I am hopelessly in love with her.”
It was so sweet I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Why don’t you tell her?”
“Are you kidding? She is so blinded by Mr. Biff, the fifth, she doesn’t know I exist, except as a friend.”
He said it with such anguish. Ah, young love, young seemingly unrequited love. I remembered how cute Brian was when he first admitted he loved me. He was 19, and it troubled him so completely. Love. The great equalizer. It makes us all so vulnerable, and when it hits—really hits—for the first time, we just can’t figure out what the hell is happening.
I wondered what Cindy did feel for Kevin. Maybe she just didn’t know, but unfortunately, before I could press Kevin any further, Maggie returned.
“He said to come over,” she said. “What do I do now?”
Then she spotted Kevin. “Oh, hey. Kevin, right? Thanks for the help.”
“It was nothing. Gotta go.”
Kevin vaulted from the booth. “Thanks, Dr. Fischer.”
“Come see me next week, Kevin. Anytime.”
“Yeah, okay.”
The poor lovesick boy slid through the crowd and out the door. Having revealed his feelings, he now needed escape. I noticed Cindy noticing him leave. Hmmm… I had to cut short my musing and return to Maggie who was now a bundle of nerves.
“So, Maggie, he wants to talk?”
“Yeah, said to come over anytime. What do I do?”
“Go. I’ll finish up here.”
“You will?”
“Yes, I will make sure it all goes according to plan. Go. You’ll feel better.”
“I will?”
“Yes, you will.”
“Maybe I should wait.”
“Go now, while it’s on your mind.”
“It would be good to talk, to explain…”
“Of course it would.”
“Okay, I’m going.” But she didn’t move.
“Okay, here I go. Do I look okay?”
“You look great. Now get out of here.”
“Okay.”
She nodded a couple times and finally left the booth. Yeesh. Does love make us weenies or what? Maggie left and soon I was joined by Mike.
“Where’s the Gen off to?”
“She has something to take care of.”
“Left you at the helm, eh?”
“If you want to call it that.”
“Time for the finale, right?”
“Right.”
“Gotcha. See you back at the offices.”
Mike jumped up from the table before I had a chance to ask him what he meant by that. We weren’t meeting back at the offices tonight—unless Maggie forgot to tell me in her Nick-addled state. Oh well, Mike would figure it out when no one showed up.
Mike went up to the growing bevy of dudes surrounding Cindy and said, very loudly (so Biff could hear), “Hey guys, let’s continue this party elsewhere.”
“All right.”
“Cool, coach.”
Mike, Cindy, and the guys all trooped out together. Once outside, they would disperse. That was the plan, anyway. Maybe Cindy and the Adonis she came in with had hit it off. Hard to say. In any event, the illusion would then end. I must admit that Mike’s group did a helluva job playing their parts. I wondered how he had gotten them to participate—he must be a really good coach.
Biff noticed the noisy departure of Cindy and the guys but quickly returned to his attempted seduction of Monique.
“So, Monique…”
Aha, he had come around to using her first name.
“…would you, you know, like to get out of here and head up to my place?”
Monique looked at Biff for a moment. A long moment.
Then she burst out laughing, a wild raucous laugh that quieted the entire bar. Monique then said, loud enough for everyone—even those in the toilets, I’m guessing—to hear:
“What a yutz! Did you really expect me to leave with you?”
Everyone started laughing. There were some cat calls, and Biff began to turn scarlet.
“As if you could seduce me. You poor boy. The truth is, I don’t think you’re up to it.”
The crowd went “oooh.”
“Let’s face it, you couldn’t even handle my class.”
The crowd went “aaah.”
Monique patted his red cheeks. “But you can dream.”
And with that, Monique made her exit, and the entire bar began to clap. Okay, so I started it. But the other patrons—many of whom seemed to know him—soon joined in. I wondered how popular Biff really was.
At first, Biff looked like he wanted to crawl under the bar but instead plastered his snottiest, hardest look onto his face and turned to the bar. A drunk collegiate came up to him.
“Trying to seduce a prof, Biff? Pretty tricky stuff.”
“Fuck off.”
With that, Biff swaggered out the door and the drunk made a face to his friends, who all went “woooo.”
With all of the mini-dramas tied up, I figured it was time to head home. I looked at my watch. It was 10:30. The whole thing had taken a little over two hours. Incredible. I was exhausted. All this love and sex and drama was incredibly tiresome—and yet somehow exhilarating. In a way, Maggie was right. This dating stuff was a battlefield—one in which the battle itself was exhausting but the victories exhilarating.
As I drove home, I began to look forward to crawling into bed with Brian. I hoped he wasn’t asleep so I could tell him everything that happened. I thought about all that had transpired that night and realized how lucky I was to have found my soulmate so early in life.
As I crossed the Bay Bridge, I remembered Mike’s comment about meeting back at the War Council offices. Had Maggie asked Mike and Monique to meet her back there? She left without saying a word to me about it. Oh well, I was too tired to think about going back. Besides, Mike and Monique could figure
things out on their own.
Chapter Fourteen
MONIQUE
I want to make one thing perfectly clear: I did not make the first move. I just didn’t. I’ll admit I was feeling rather randy that night. You can’t spend two hours in the Kingfish and not feel randy. And I must admit I was looking for an outlet for all that pent-up sexuality. An outlet was all. But I did not make the first move.
Maggie had asked me to meet her back at the War Council office after the encounter at the Kingfish—kind of a post-mortem for the evening. Frankly, my part went incredibly well. The boy was incredibly easy to manipulate—any boy with an ego that substantial is easy prey. And because I couldn’t really see what else was going on, I was eager to swap stories with Maggie, Kathy, and, okay, Mike.
I reached the War Council offices and found Mike. I had to admit he was looking rather good in the afterglow of our adventures at the Kingfish. He was sitting in the back corner in a partitioned-off space that Maggie had decorated to look warmer than the main room as it would serve as the interview area for potential clients. Maggie thought it should have a modicum of privacy and a warm touch, almost like a therapist’s office. Mike was sitting on the couch, so I took a seat in the chair next to the couch.
“Where are Maggie and Kathy?” I asked.
“Dunno.”
“Now there’s a scintillating response.”
Silence. That was strange. Not only did Mike not respond to my barb, he had refrained from calling me Hard Ass or cookie or babycakes. And he was looking at me rather quizzically.
“What?” I asked.
“You really put the moves on that boy tonight.”
I shrugged. “That was my job.”
“I was impressed,” he said.
“Oh, you were?” Now I looked quizzically at him. What was this all about?
“Yeah, I was.”
“Should I be flattered?”
“Whatever. I’m just stating a fact.”
“Oh, a fact.”
“Yeah, a fact.”
“Well, from what I could see, you were holding your own.”
“I guess. Mostly it was my boys. I was just the master manipulator.”
The War Council Page 11