"What do you think?”
She can already feel his erection. "Just a minute," she says.
She leans over and picks up the phone. He strokes her bottom. So gently, she feels excited again. She opens her legs just a little bit. "Hello," she says. "What’s up," her assistant says.
"Just checking in. Tell Amber I need her copy first thing tomorrow morning.”
"I can't," her assistant says. "She's still at that press conference.”
"Just tell her, okay?" Winnie says. Thinking, Typical. Amber Anders was the girl who plagiarized her piece.
She hangs up the phone. "Everything okay?" Tanner asks. "Perfect," she says.
James can't get home fast enough. For once. If he can get home before Winnie, he can take a shower. He can pretend everything is normal.
From now on, everything is going to be normal. He's going to concentrate. He's going to write that book. (He feels like shit. He can't take it, this feeling like shit anymore. Is this how Tanner feels after he takes drugs and fucks some random chick he doesn't care about? Mixed up and confused?) He opens the door to his apartment. Closes it. "James?" Winnie calls out. "I'm glad you're home." Winnie is in their boy's room. Playing with their child. Helping him string beads on a cord. She's sitting on the floor with her shoes off. She looks happy. "Look, Daddy," has boy says.
"Hello, Sport," James says. "Daddy. Bang bang," the boy says.
"No," Winnie says. "Don't shoot Daddy." She smiles. "Isn't he such a boy?" she says.
"Bang bang," James says to his boy. "Bang bang back.”
"Clay's here," Winnie says in a stage whisper.
"Veronica kicked him out of the house. I'm thinking I should kick both of you out and let you go to a hotel. But on second thought, maybe I should go to a hotel and let you pay for it.”
"Do you want to go to a hotel?" James asks. "What do you think?" Winnie says.
"How was your day?”
"Great," Winnie says, looking up. "I fucked Tanner all afternoon in his hotel room.”
I wish you had, James thinks. Then they'd be even. Then he wouldn't have to worry about anything. (But he would have to worry about Tanner. He wouldn't be able to be friends with him anymore. And every time he looked at Winnie, he'd have to think about Tanner fucking her. And all the other girls Tanner had fucked. Maybe he'd have to divorce Winnie.) "Uncle Clay threw up in the sink," his boy says. "Sssssh," Winnie says. "How was your day?”
"I went to that press-conference. It was useless.”
“I told you," Winnie says.
(Should he tell her? Should he tell her he met Amber Anders at the press conference? If he's going to tell her, now is the time. What if Amber tells Winnie she met James? What if she tells her she fucked James? If she tells Winnie she met James, Winnie will wonder why James didn't tell her first.) "I met someone who works in your office," he says.
"Who?”
"Andy ... Amber something ... ?”
“Amber Anders," Winnie says.
"I think That’s it.”
"What did she say?”
"Nothing," James says. "She said she read my piece on satellites.”
"She'll probably plagiarize it. She was the one who plagiarized my piece. I'm trying to get rid of her, but I can't.”
"You should," James says. "She seems kind of crazy.”
"She's worse than Evie.”
"Do you think Evie slept with Tanner?”
"I have no idea," Winnie says. She picks up a few beads and threads them onto the cord. (She thinks about Tanner. How he was so strong; he kept gently picking her up and moving her into different positions. He knelt over her like a god. He overwhelmed her. He kissed her neck until she thought she was going to swoon. She did swoon. She slid off the chair onto the floor, and that’s when he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. She was incapable of protest.) "I bet he didn't," James says. "Evie's a little too close to home. Even for Tanner. She's your sister.”
“You think so?" Winnie says.
(She's not even yelling, he thinks. Maybe he is going to get away with this after all.) "I'm going to take a shower," he says. "I think that's a good idea.”
He passes the living room. Clay is sleeping on the couch. Did he fuck Evie? When James had left Tanner's hotel room last night, Clay and Evie were still there. Would they (Clay and Evie) really do that?
Christ. He'd wanted to fuck Evie. For about two seconds. But then he'd started talking to Tanner about that monkey shit. And alpha males. What the hell was he talking about?
(What if he had slept with Evie? Winnie's sister. It would be like Tanner sleeping with Winnie.) He goes into the bedroom. It's clean. And neat. His glasses are on the night table next to the bed, along with his black Braun traveling alarm clock and three old business magazines he keeps meaning to get through. Winnie's shoes are on the floor. The strappy sandals he gave her for her birthday.
Suddenly he feels okay. Maybe he didn't fuck up after all.
When he comes out of the bathroom, he can hear Winnie on the phone. "I'll send him home as soon as he wakes up," she's saying. "Oh God, Veronica. I don't know. I don't give a shit anymore.... I know, but maybe you should try to have the same attitude. Maybe you should go out and fuck someone else.”
“Veronica," Winnie says as James passes by on his way to his little office. He nods. "I don't think we should get involved.”
"Neither do I," Winnie says. "I don't give a shit." James sits down at his desk. He turns on his computer. The phone rings again. Shit, he thinks. What if it's Amber? He didn't give her his number. But she might have Winnie's number.
They work in the same office.
He's just being paranoid. Amber isn't going to say anything. She's not that kind of girl.
He can hear Winnie giggling softly into the kitchen phone. "We definitely have to do it again," she says seductively. He's never heard her use that tone of voice before. "The next time you're in town.
"It's Tanner!" she shouts. Oh.
He picks up the phone. "Hey, man.”
“Hey, man. How you feeling?”
"Rough." (He wants to tell Tanner he got laid. Because he did. He did get laid. But he definitely wouldn't tell Tanner about the girl's vagina. It was enormous. And a little stinky.
He definitely can't do that again.) "I hear you, man," Tanner says.
"Gay's here," James says. "Veronica kicked him out of the house.”
"She'll be begging him to come back in about two hours.”
"She already has," James says. They laugh.
"You heading back to L.A.?" James asks. "Tomorrow morning. I'll see you next time I'm in town.”
James hangs up.
He checks his e-mails. The top one, sent at 5:03 p.m., says, "From Amber 69696969. Re: Alpha Males.”
This can't be happening. Should he delete it or read it?
He'd better read it. Find out how bad the damage is.
Dear James, It was great to meet you. It's so hard to find decent guys. (Don't worry about your wife. I told you, I'm not that kind of girl, and I NEVER go back on my promises. Unlike other people we know.) I really want to talk to you about this idea I have about alpha males. (I think there are alpha females, too, and I'm one of them.) This would be a terrific piece for the magazine. And, I think you should know this, I'm going to proceed with it. Let's meet on Monday at six at the Cafe Grill. My friend Jerry is the bartender and he always gives me free drinks. Big Kiss.