"When do you think I'll go out on my first job?" she asked tentatively. Now that things were looking more definite, she decided she wouldn't tell Doug anything until she had come back from her first job, maybe even with her fee as well. She couldn't wait to see his reaction when she sprung that one on him.
"Well, you may have to go out on a couple of go-sees first," Harvey said cautiously. "You never can tell how things will happen. But one thing's for sure, it won't be long before you're in the swing of things!"
"I'd like to have some sort of idea, though, if I could," Betty said again, hating to push the subject, but wanting something more definite.
"You're right in wanting to be prepared," Harvey approved, and then turned to Jean.
"Run out to the car, will you honey, and get my 'Coming-Up' book?"
Jean hurried out to the car, but in a few moments, she was back.
"It's not there, Harvey!" she said worriedly.
"Goddamn it, I must have left it at Villiers' Studio. Now what am I going to do?"
"Don't worry, Harvey," Jean soothed, "I'll drive over there and get it!"
"I don't mean to put you to so much trouble," Betty said timidly, "It's all right, really. You can phone me and let me know!"
"No, I've gotta have that book," Harvey insisted, and shot a grateful look at his assistant. "I'd really appreciate it, Jean, honey!"
"I won't be long," Jean promised, and let herself out the front door.
"How about another drink?" Betty offered, breaking the long silence.
"Sure, as long as you'll join me," Harvey countered. Betty, shrugging her shoulders, agreed. She didn't really want it, but it wouldn't do any harm, especially as she had stopped taking brandy with her morning coffee.
She sat down beside Peterson on the sofa when she handed him his drink.
"Well, Betty, how do you feel about your new career?" he asked amiably looking directly into her eyes.
"It's wonderful," Betty assured him wholeheartedly. "It'll mean a new way of life for me!"
"And what does your husband think of all this?" Harvey queried.
"I… I haven't told him about it, yet," Betty admitted with embarrassment.
"Why not?" Harvey wondered, idly sipping his drink.
Betty didn't quite know what to say. She could make up something, like she wanted to surprise him, but she didn't think she'd sound convincing enough. Maybe the truth was the best thing.
"Well, we haven't been getting on too well of late," Betty said in a low voice. "In fact," she said in a rush of confidence, "we're barely on speaking terms. I hardly see him from one end of the week to the other. It's terrible…"
"Why, where does he spend his time?" Peterson asked.
"Oh, I don't know, working overtime, out with the boys, something like that. I suppose to avoid coming home!"
"What kind of husband is he anyway?" Harvey said briskly. "That's no way to treat a woman, especially a beautiful, desirable one like you!"
Betty didn't know what happened next; she only knew that she was suddenly crying helplessly. Something in Peterson's sympathetic words struck a chord deep within her an loosened the tight clutch she had on her emotions.
"Hey, what's the matter? Was it something I said?" Harvey asked solicitously, placing a paternal arm around her shoulder.
"No, it wasn't… I mean, yes…" she blubbered, leaning against his shoulder, finding relief in his consoling voice and comforting arm.
"Take it easy, honey…" he continued to soothe, stroking her as tenderly as if she was a child. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"
Peterson suppressed a secret smile. He had guessed that Betty had some kind of problem with her husband. Now, the way things are going, she'll play right into my hands…
"I can't…" Betty sobbed, "it's too terrible…"
"But it might help if you talk about it, honey…" Harvey said calmly. "These things have a way of working out if you bring them out in the open!"
"I know," Betty sniffed, "but I'm too embarrassed."
"It can't be as bad as all that," Harvey assured her, "and don't forget, I'm not exactly an adolescent!"
Betty considered his last remark. It was true that he was an older man, with probably a lot of experience of human problems, and he was also right when he said that things often looked better if discussed openly. But could she tell her secrets to an almost stranger?
"In fact, sometimes it's even better to tell your problems to a stranger," Harvey commented, as if he had read her mind. "Because a stranger has a totally different outlook and is not emotionally involved."
Betty suddenly felt that she couldn't battle on by herself any longer. She got absolutely no support from Doug and she felt tense and exhausted from the strain of trying to weather the storm alone.
"The whole problem is that we're not compatible!" she blurted, "sexually, that is!"
"Lots of young couples aren't at first," Harvey hedged, looking down at the lovely, troubled young wife.
"But we've been married for over two years, and things are just getting worse!"
"In what way, Betty?" Harvey queried helpfully.
"I… I just can't… don't seem to respond to Doug, that's all!"
"But you're not frigid, are you?"
Betty brushed aside her instinctive objection to such an intimate conversation with someone she hardly knew and went on vehemently.
"No, I'm not, but Doug says I am!"
"Well, then, maybe the problem lies with your husband…"
"With Doug?" Betty said incredulously.
"Yes, maybe he's not the right man for you!"
"But I love him!" Betty said emphatically.
"No, I don't mean that way. What I mean is," he went on carefully, "that maybe you need a different kind of man to arouse you!"
"Another man? But I couldn't…"
"Not even if it would help your marriage, and Doug?"
"No! It's wrong! I just couldn't…"
Betty was so absorbed in her conversation that she hardly noticed that Harvey's hand was still casually caressing her shoulder. In fact, it felt good, relaxing and soothing, so that when she did become aware of it, she didn't particularly want it to stop. But Harvey's conversation was getting disturbing. All this talk about another man made her uneasy, and she wanted to change the subject.
"Would you like another drink?" she asked at length.
"No, I'm fine. You just sit back and relax. You're all tense and nervous. Just close your eyes and forget about everything and in a little while you'll feel better."
Peterson's voice was almost hypnotic and Betty found herself lying back comfortably against his shoulder, her eyes closed, as she tried to blank all her problems out of her mind.
Harvey continued to reassure her, soothing her in gentle tones. He looked down at the still quivering redhead and felt desire welling up inside him. It looked like he'd have to go to a lot of trouble to get this one, but it would be worth it, he knew. He could barely restrain himself when he had seen her naked body that day he took the shots. She was far better than he'd envisioned. She was like a sculptured Goddess, only a living, breathing one. They all did – that was no surprise. But maybe he could really use her for Galaxy. She was definitely out of the ordinary, and maybe, after his plan had worked, he'd see if she was still interested in working.
Casually, his hand dropped lower still until it came into breathtaking contact with her palpitating breast. He sensed that her breath quickened for a moment when he touched her nipple through her dress, but she didn't say anything. He could feel the little bud hardening under his touch, burgeoning with obvious desire. Her whole breast seemed to strain against his palm, and lay warm and throbbing in his hand.
"Oh don't… Please, Harvey…" Betty mumbled half incoherently, but without making an attempt to stop him.
"Now just relax, honey, and don't worry about a thing," Harvey told her, his hand falling again to come to rest on the bare expanse of her thigh. He felt it quiver under his touch as he began to crawl with his fingers up along the sensitive, sleek surface, eventually slipping in under the hem of her dress.