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“Weird?” she sounded distracted, almost distant.
Vince knew that once he told her what had happened she would perk right up and start paying attention to him. He held his breath and thought about how best to bring up the subject.
“I found a girl in our bathroom,” he said. “She was... fondling herself.”
Silence followed. The sound of Lorelei rubbing lotion into her skin stopped. Vince heard a couple of clicks—sounds he assumed were her wedding rings snapping against the plastic of her phone as she held it tighter.
“She had on one of my shirts,” he continued. “Smelled like she’d put some of my cologne on, too.”
No reply came.
“She was practically naked,” Vince added. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. Took me a second to even say anything to her.”
“Don’t toy with me.” Her choice of words was playful enough—lighthearted even—but her tone betrayed her. Tight and squeaking. “You’re playing. You have to be.” She didn’t sound sure of that statement at all. It sounded more like a question, her voice rising as she spoke.
“Doesn’t matter,” Vince said. “What are you wearing?” He’d gotten both of his wrists free from their cotton prisons and relaxed back into the bed, letting his legs hang off the edge. He put his left hand behind his head and held the phone against his ear with his right. “A skimpy little towel?” he asked. “Barely covering your legs, I’ll bet.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Lorelei snapped. “Tell me what happened.”
“When are you coming home?” Vince darted past the question. “I miss you.”
“Vince,” Lorelei warned, her voice like ice, sending shivering tendrils down Vince’s spine. “Tell me what happened with the girl in our bathroom.”
“Oh,” Vince sighed, pretending he’d forgotten all about her. “I don’t know. She was just some teenage girl. Broke into our home. Found her way into our bedroom.”
Vince could almost feel his wife seething on the other end. Her silence was deafening, telling. She wanted the details and she wanted them now.
“And?” Lorelei asked. “What happened?”
“Oh, come on.” Vince sighed. “She was just little teenage temptress.” He forced himself to get up from the bed. His eyes started to droop but he had a lot to get done today; he wasn’t about to have a four-hour nap in his five-thousand-dollar suit.
“Seriously?” Lorelei screeched. “That’s how you’re choosing to describe this girl?”
He trotted down the stairs and into the vast open space of the first floor. Every surface was marble, every wall painted white, and every fixture stainless steel—his darling wife’s specifications. He might have been the architect but she was the designer and decorator of their home. Vince wanted it that way. He’d had his way on buildings his entire professional career, the least he could do was offer the same joy to his wife for the home they’d share together. The layout wasn’t one he’d have chosen himself—everything in one wide, echoey room—but it didn’t matter. The black and white prints of the buildings he’d created looked fantastic on the walls.
“Look,” Vince sighed, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, all right?” In the kitchen, he opened the fridge. He kept the phone pressed to his ear as he poured himself a glass of filtered ice water. “Dino is coming into town in a month,” he said, trying to change the subject once again. “How about we set up a dinner date? Just the three of us?”
His wife scoffed loudly. “I don’t want to hear about that old lech!” Lorelei’s voice was so loud Vince had to pry the phone from his ear. “I want to know about the girl. Nothing else.”
There was a long, pregnant pause. Vince knew Lorelei was holding her tongue, stopping herself from saying something. He decided to wait for her to spill her guts.
“I’m starting to think you screwed her,” Lorelei said, her voice filled with an uneven edge.
At that, Vince paused. Thoughts he shouldn’t have been thinking pulsed through his mind. It was easy to remember the way the teenager looked. Her long, curly, golden hair tumbled down either side of her face. When he’d spoken to her, she’d looked up, her dark blue eyes wide and afraid. Her hands had dropped away from her shaven mound and she’d closed her legs sheepishly, trying to maintain some modesty. Vince tried not to laugh remembering her standing there naked from the waist down, her hands covering her bare slit.
“Did you?” Lorelei asked, her voice forceful and harsh.
“Of course, I did,” Vince said, trying to make himself sound confident, believable. “Why would I give up an opportunity like that?”
A ruffling sound came through as Lorelei moved around. He could only imagine what she was doing: pacing around her hotel room with her palm pressed against her forehead as she always did when she was stressed or upset.
“How did you do it?” Lorelei asked.
The sound of her voice startled him. There was a calm steadiness to it, almost serene.
“I don’t know,” Vince said. “I just did?”
“No, I mean, how?” Lorelei urged. “Doggy style? Her on top? You on top?”
