The hardest cases were the ones who wanted something to be going on, but weren’t involved…the ones who wished and imagined and filled their minds with images but didn’t do anything. They were usually the ones who were ready, like virgins waiting to lose their virginity. They’d made the decision, and now it was just a question of who and when and where, not whether. The strength of such images made the collection of actual evidence decisive.
Those were the people that sent the signals at office parties and in bars and other gatherings, the look that lasted a little too long, the eyebrow raised in question, the hip tilted out or the pelvis tilted forward suggesting something but not committed to anything. If a spouse noticed, it was deniable. If a potential partner noticed, it would escalate a notch. The face tilted as if for a kiss, the sigh, the whispered confidence, the look over the shoulder. Still deniable but less so. And then the phone call or the unambiguous invitation that both knew would be accepted because the way was already paved. It didn’t take a psychic to spot them, just another person equally ready, a person on the hunt, circling, sniffing, waiting to pick up the signal.
Well, she’d see about this guy and his wife. If one partner was cheating, that usually meant something else was going on, though the depths of it weren’t her business.
Her thoughts turned to Jeff and his corporate jet-setting. What was going on with that? Whatever else, he wasn’t paying attention to his wife. Not the kind that she appreciated. His idea of love was being the provider, showing his affection by providing more and more and more until it didn’t matter that he wasn’t providing warmth and companionship. Ah well, such are the ways of love.
She remembered something from the corporate research she’d been doing for another client. The client thought his wife was involved with someone in the Metro Corporation because she was buying their stock. The husband thought she was getting inside tips and concluded she was sleeping with her informant. Angela had needed to find out who was in a position at Metro to do that. But in the process, she’d found out that Bowman, Lyons and Heartland owned a majority of Metro’s stock. Bowman, Lyons and Heartland was Jeff’s corporation. She put on her jacket and went to the library.
She soon found what she wanted. Metro produced ethanol, corn sweeteners, fiber products and other corn-based products at several plants located across the Middle West. Two years ago Bowman, Lyons and Heartland had acquired the majority of their shares and had been calling the shots. Metro’s management was none too pleased, and all had resigned, citing unethical business practices they thought might compromise them.
She checked Bowman, Lyons and Heartland to find that they dealt in all kinds of commodities and food-related products from animal growth hormones to ethanol. She signed on to a library computer and went to a stockbrokerage firm’s web page where she checked the graph of Bowman, Lyons and Heartland’s stocks for the past decade. It had skyrocketed and was still going up.
Then she went to a commodity dealer’s web page and started checking the list of products that Bowman, Lyons and Heartland provided to the world market. The prices of all of them had paralleled the price of the corporation’s stock.
She was lost in her thoughts when she looked at her watch and saw that it was ten past twelve. She signed off the computer and rushed to the restaurant where she found Ronda in a booth.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”
“Never, lover. I got caught up in some work.”
“You’re as bad as asshole.”
“You’re looking buff.” Angela tried to change the subject.
“Been working out. You’re an inspiration. If you could lose the weight twenty years ago after having a kid and get into the shape you’re in now, so can I. And I’m sure Jeff will enjoy your-what did you call them-Kegel exercises? The exercises that tighten your cunt?”
“Yes. But I’m guessing you never needed them. You’re tight and firm everywhere.”
They both ordered salads with dressing on the side.
“Jeff is going to be home tonight. So he says. Why don’t you come over after work? If he’s not there we can make love. If he is there, we can make love and see if he wants to join us. What say?”
“Well, that’s subtle. Okay for the first part. If he’s not there. But we need to figure out what to do in case he is there. How would that go?”
“Why don’t I tell him that you and I are lovers? We’ll see how he responds.”
“Ummm. We shouldn’t let him determine what we do by his response.”
They were silent when the waitress brought their salads to the booth.
“Okay, he may be hurt, or he may like it. Let’s say it’s one of those two. If he’s hurt, then what?” Deep in thought, Ronda nibbled on a lettuce leaf.
“Then you explain that it’s because he doesn’t pay any attention to you.”
“Suppose he likes it?”
“Then you invite him to join us.” Angela dripped some dressing onto the rest of her salad.
“Then what?” Ronda speared another lettuce leaf.
“You say you never masturbated in front of him?”
“Right.”
“How about him?”
“What?”
“Did you ever see him masturbate?”
“No. Does he?”
“Yes.”
“How do you…oh…”
“Yes.”
“I’ll bet he was thinking of you.”
“He was looking at a photograph of you. Fully dressed.”
Ronda blushed. “Really?”
“It’s in the report. So let’s do this. You go into the bedroom and take off your clothes. I’ll lead him up there. By the time we get there, you be masturbating. Let him see you playing with yourself. If I get some message that it won’t work, I’ll let you know, okay? I’ll be sensing what he’s thinking and I’ll let you know.”
“Then what?”
“If he’s getting aroused, I’ll undress him. You’ll be able to watch. Then…”
“We can’t plan this all, that’s enough. We’ll let it develop from there. We’re just going to play it by ear mostly.”
“But tell me now if you don’t want him to fuck me.”
“Oh, I do. Like I said, you’re not going to be getting a big thrill. A big cock, yes, but not a big thrill. I’ll be the one getting the thrill when he’s fucking you. How perverted is that? Anyway, the main thing is knowing what’s going on.”
“Do you usually get on top of him?”
“No. If he fucks me at all, he just fucks me and comes and that’s it. If I want to come, I wait ‘til he’s gone and do it myself. But it’s been a long time since even that happened.”
“Okay, would you mind if I got on top of him?”
“No. I’ll hold his cock for you.”
They both startled when the waitress said, “Are you ready for the check or will you try one of our desserts?” And they were both wet with anticipation.
Chapter Six
Angela was accustomed to walking into the Mayan house when she knew that Ronda was expecting her.
“Oh, hi.” Jeff was sitting in one of the velvet easy chairs reading a financial newspaper. “Ronda said you might come by. She’ll be down in a minute. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”
Angela sat at one end of the couch. “No thanks. How’s business? You’re in business, aren’t you?”
His mind was full of charts and tables. Commodity prices in Europe, Asia, Latin America. Soybean crops in Brazil. Corn futures in Iowa…
“Yeah, Bowman, Lyons and Heartland. Can’t complain. Same ol’, same ol’…” When Jeff began to sputter Angela turned to look at the stairway where his eyes were fixed.
Ronda filled his mind. A collage of her at twenty, thirty, now-naked, clothed.