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I offer a tight smile and then turn my attention toward the door. Bethany is smart. She can take a hint. “Anything else?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She walks over and picks up the crumbled flyer and throws it at my head. “We need this just as much as you do. If not more. You have to get better.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ali
Austin
Eight weeks later
Ali’s excited about her workshop. It’s been a while since she’s set foot on a stage or stepped up to the podium, and God, has she missed it. Ali loves her work. She loves it even more since she’s had to be away. It’s given her a renewed sense of purpose, knowing there are so many women out there, many of them like she was until just recently, longing to be free.
It’s an interesting thing, getting away with murder. It’s gives you a certain, how do the French put it, a certain…je ne sais quoi.
Killing her stepfather was by far the most satisfying thing she’s ever done. The fact that Edward helped, and inevitably took the fall, God, did that get her off. In more ways than one. She hadn’t intended to have to assist with the disposal of Sarah Shepard, and yet she somehow found herself wrapped up in that when Edward refused to leave her body on the side of the road. He swore up and down that drivers who hit and run were usually caught, and he had no intention of going out like that. Ali did not let him off the hook easily. He paid for his actions dearly as she dangled Sarah’s murder over his head. Thankfully, Edward’s the only person who knows of her involvement and he’s dead.
Edward brought crazy to a level of sexy that she’s never seen. Unfortunately, he got greedy. He grew tired of their scams. Especially the one that kept him tied to a wheelchair. Ali sensed that he had improved beyond what he was letting on, but she wasn’t certain. With Edward, she was never certain.
Seduction is an art.That was a gift that her husband taught her, and that’s the topic of conversation at her lecture today. It’s a packed house. There are easily three hundred people packed into the bookstore’s large conference room. Ali stands and smooths her dress. The coordinator gives her the go-ahead as the event planner announces her. The woman lists off her accomplishments, awards, the titles of her books. Ali blushes and smiles shyly.
When Ali steps up to the podium, she adjusts the mic. She starts her talk with a question. “How many of you have ever been seduced?What was it about that time in your life that felt exciting?”
Ali knows the answer, of course, even if the audience can’t quite put their finger on it.
It was the uncertainty. The highs and lows. The push and pull. Attraction without polarity cannot be sustained. Once the excitement is gone, you might as well just be friends. Friendship is fine. But that’s not why her audience has come.
Ali shares her wisdom. She tells them there’s power in knowing how to seduce a person, and with that power must come respect. “So. You have this connection with this person. You must learn to hold it in your palm, like a sparrow. And trust that it will come back. Or it won’t. Really. And if it doesn’t, it’s because that little bird did what it needed to do. And if it does, you will feed it from your open palm, and never close your fist around it. Then, it will know it’s always safe with you. That is the ultimate seduction.”
Once she’s established ground rules, she moves to the next level. She teaches them about reading gestures and actions, about understanding a person’s vulnerabilities in a way that would in turn help them read their partner’s mind to glean insight into what their deepest desires are.
“For example,” she says, moving away from the podium. “Let’s say you’re not in the mood for sex, or for Indian food, notagain. But you realize that your partner is. Now—this is where it gets tricky. This is where I’m going to lose some of you.” She steps forward. “If it were me, I’d make sure they get those things. Relationships are not fifty-fifty. Maybe a mediocre relationship. Show of hands. Who wants mediocre sex? Who came to learn about that? Who here wants a partner that’smaybea four? No one. Everyone wants a ten. But to get a ten—and to keep a ten—you have to be a ten. After all, you get what you give.”
She tells them to be a storyteller if possible. There are few people on the planet who would turn down a truly emotional or romantic tale. Danger is an aphrodisiac, and it’s difficult to convey danger if emotions aren’t engaged.
Finally, she touches briefly on power dynamics and the best ways to bring them into the bedroom. A lot of conflict can be resolved between the sheets.
Or with murder. But it’s probably better that Ali not say that.
She takes several questions from the audience.How do I make sure I orgasm during sex?Does penis size really matter? Best sex position to hit the G-spot?The usual. And then it’s over. The audience gives a standing ovation.
Ali smiles and takes a bow. There’s nothing quite like watching a group of men and women walk away armed with knowledge that will bring them pleasure. She searches the audience in the way that she always does at the end of a conference, reading faces, gauging levels of understanding and satisfaction.
Across the room, in the back row, her eyes land on a familiar face. She smiles.It’s him.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ethan
It’s probably a beast better starved than fed, but the capacity we have to lie to ourselves is amazing. Plus, I’ve never been more attracted to her than right now seeing her on that stage. Ali’s in her element. She’s straight fire. Sexy as hell, a woman with ambition like that. I hadn’t seen her at work before.
As I sit there watching her, I thank my lucky stars that Camille Roberts entered my life. I think about all the things that had to lead up to making that a possibility. My leaving the Bureau. Bethany’s insistence that I start my own firm. The list goes on. I think about fate and how sometimes it hands you a gift and you realize the universe has a very interesting sense of humor. As much as we like to think we have all the answers, there’s far more that’s unexplainable. My attraction to this woman being one of those things. Life is a mystery. It doesn’t come with neat and tidy answers. There are often more ellipses than full-on sentence stops.
I knew even before Bethany gave me the flyer for Ali’s talk that I wouldn’t miss it. Not for the world. I could lie to Bethany. I could lie to myself. Just not forever. And now here we are.
Ali finishes speaking and then spends half an hour chatting with attendees and signing books while I hang around browsing the bookstore. I pick up several books for the kids. When I finally make it to the biography section, I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Hello, stranger.”
I turn, not expecting my breath to hitch in my throat. I am not expecting to want to push Ali up against the bookcase and go at it right there in the middle of a crowded store, but that’s exactly what happens.
