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“Oh? Why?” She started to reach for her notebook again.
“That was the time when I found out my father was ill,” I explained. “I had to fly back home and become more involved with the overall business. We didn’t know how much longer he would live.”
“So you left Sherry behind?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever think about her?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you ever wish you had stayed in contact, or maybe brought her back here with you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
That was a good question. I had asked myself the same thing a thousand times in the ensuing years.
“Because part of what made the time with Sherry special was the unspoken understanding between us that it would never be anything more than sex,” I said. “There was never any talk of a relationship, and certainly never any talk about her becoming a full-time submissive to me. We just enjoyed the times we had together, and the roles we fell into. There was never a plan, and never a desire to commit – from me, or from her. It was what it was,” I said simply, “and that’s all it ever could have been.”
* * *
We walked slowly back to Leticia’s apartment and stood outside on the sidewalk in the afternoon sun. Traffic had thinned, but still the sounds of the city were a constant buzzing drone in the background. Leticia started towards the sliding glass doors, and then realized I wasn’t beside her. She turned back to me and frowned.
“You aren’t coming upstairs?”
I shook my head, staring at her with my hands thrust deep into the pockets of my jeans. “I want you to come to my place tonight,” I said. “Eight o’clock.”
Leticia arched her eyebrow and raised her chin in a little gesture of defiance. “And what if I have plans? It’s Saturday night.”
“Break them,” I said, and my expression was serious. “There are some things I want to show you.”
* * *
Trigg was waiting for me when I walked through the door. She stood in the foyer, her expression dark and brooding. Her eyes were slanted and narrowed into bright little blades, snapping with suppressed anger. I brushed past her. Her mouth was drawn into a grim line and words seemed to boil on her lips.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Trigg’s voice was low and quivering.
I stopped in mid-stride. “It’s not your concern,” I said. “Let it be.”
She followed me, light on her feet as a dancer, the sound of her heels on the tiles echoing against the high ceiling. She was dressed in black pants and a pink silk blouse. I could see a flush of angry color rise from beneath the shimmering fabric to her throat, and sense her bitterness.
Trigg caught her breath with a frustrated little hiss. “It’s wrong, Jonah. You can’t lead that young woman on like this.”
I turned on her then, my voice crackled like breaking ice. “Don’t tell me what to do,” I warned. “It is none of your business,” I said. “None.”
Trigg took a startled step back. I stared into her eyes, a direct trail of strength. She dropped her gaze, and I went on while the anger still simmered and fizzed in my blood.
“Leticia is coming here tonight. She will arrive at eight o’clock. You will not be here. I don’t care where you go for the evening, and I don’t care what you do. But you will not be here. Do I make myself clear?”
Trigg nodded, suddenly uncertain. I left her standing alone, staring down at the floor, and stalked off towards the stairs.
* * *
The afternoon passed quickly. I sat at the big desk in my office and tried to concentrate. There was business to attend to. Muffled sounds from downstairs distracted me, and I went to the office door and found myself listening to Trigg’s voice, talking on the telephone as she strode back and forth across the tiled floor.
I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I didn’t need to. The tone in her voice was bitter and frustrated.
At six o’clock Mrs. Hortez brought a silver tray and left it on a small side-table just inside the door. We made polite, awkward conversation for a few seconds and then she left for the evening.
I returned my attention to the paperwork littered across the desk, but still I could not concentrate. I pushed the chair back and began to pace the floor, stopping once to listen to the crunch of tires and the steady burble of a car engine in the driveway. I went to the window and saw Trigg’s convertible pulling out through the gates, the headlights bobbing and dipping as the vehicle merged into traffic and raced away into the darkening night.
I was alone. The house was eerie and silent.
Alone…
I began to pace once more, and suddenly it occurred to me that I was lonely. The realization was so shocking and disturbing that it stopped me in my tracks.
Being alone was something that I had always been comfortable with. I liked answering to no one. I enjoyed the freedom that came from remaining removed from emotional attachment. I had lived my life as my own man.
/> My world. My way.
It was the Jonah Noble battle-cry. But now, as I prowled back and forth across the floor, it struck me suddenly that I wasn’t merely alone.
I was lonely.
Things: property and possessions surrounded me – and that had included the many women who had passed through my life; they had all been property to own, or possessions to entertain and arouse.
I went to the desk and swept all the paperwork into a drawer. I poured whisky into a glass and dropped into the big chair. The leather creaked and groaned around me.
I sat staring moodily at the darkened walls and wondered whether I had been playing the game of life to win, or merely not to get hurt from losing.
* * *
Leticia arrived a few minutes before eight o’clock. I had changed my t-shirt for a dress shirt, and my hair was still wet from a shower.
I pulled the front door open and she stood on the step wearing a short black skirt, heels and a soft grey blouse that buttoned down the front and was cut low enough to reveal a hint of tight cleavage. She smiled up at me, and I was enveloped in a soft subtle cloud of her perfume.
“You’re right on time,” I said.
She came through the door and stood in the foyer. I noticed she had changed handbags.
“Did you bring your notebook?”
She nodded. She looked around, as though she expected furniture to have been moved, or the house re-decorated. “It’s very quiet,” Leticia said. “Are we alone?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s just you and me.”
There was a moment of heavy silence, as though those words were significant. Leticia turned so that we were standing close to each other.
