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I was right about Sandra and Ryan. They saw each other from time to time socially, according to Jennifer.
“They’ve been seeing each other since he hired on,” Jennifer said. “He said it was just for fun. Lunch and dinner dates, nothing serious. He swore they didn’t have sex, but I never believed him. He told me he often had sex with Sandra’s nanny, too, when Sandra was in the next room.”
“That’s disgusting,” I said, grimacing. “I really don’t need to hear this.”
“Yeah, well, just wait. I have a story to tell you, but you have to promise never to tell Ryan I told you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me,” I said, wondering what Jennifer’s rationale was for including me.
“You need to know,” Jennifer insisted. “It will give you more reasons for keeping your distance from Ryan now that he’s your father’s favorite.”
She rubbed her hands together and then took a sip of water.
“Here’s the story. He’d stood Sandra up when his mother had gotten sick. He called Sandra Sunday night when he returned home, trying to make amends. Ryan said she was angry with him and he wanted to smooth things over, since they worked in the same office. He offered to bring a pizza over to her apartment. They drank wine, chit chatting, and then, Sandra told Ryan she has HIV.”
I looked at Jennifer, shocked. Why would Sandra tell an employee such a personal thing? And he repeated it to the receptionist? Nothing was sacred. “What did Ryan say to that?” I asked.
“Well, you won’t believe it,” Jennifer said.
“I might. What was his response?”
“He told her he has it, too.” Jennifer continued determinedly.
All of my preconceived ideas about the people who have HIV and AIDS went out the window. Evidently, anyone could have it. “What was the result?” I asked Jennifer.
“Ryan said they didn’t pursue the topic further; it was a nonissue if they both had it. He confessed the first day he laid eyes on her in the lobby at work that he wanted Sandra, but he thought he had to lure her. But that wasn’t true. Evidently, as history had shown with Sandra, the work relationship wouldn’t be an issue as long as everything went well. She didn’t seem to have much common sense.
“That Sunday, they talked amicably for two hours. The pizza gone, the second bottle of wine nearing the bottom, Sandra flirted, and Ryan was entranced. Ryan was no seducer. He never had to because women are always after him. Sandra leaned in to whisper to him, confiding that she was drunk, and then sat up and stuck her boobs out with her arms above her head, giving him the message that she was ready, and he jumped at the chance.
“Ryan admitted to me that he was a little drunk himself. He’d forgotten about her kid in the next room. That’s one of the things that turned me off about Ryan. He doesn’t want kids.
“Ryan said he didn’t waste a second to tell her what he wanted. He’s into erotic asphyxiation. Don’t get me wrong—not with me! While he was spewing details, he rubbed it in that her body was fantastic and other details I didn’t need to know. Remember, I had been sleeping with the jackass at the time, and he never failed to let me know if I’d gained a few pounds.”
“And you kept sleeping with him?” I asked, sneering. “Why?”
She ignored me, continuing with the Ryan/Sandra story. “He said she was scared to try it. ‘You’re not going to kill me, are you?’ Sandra asked him, laughing, drunk.”
“‘Oh, God no,’ he said. ‘I need my job.’ They resumed kissing, and he swears she was into it, assisted him putting the scarf around her neck, snug, but not too tight. He claims he reached up and grasped the end of the scarf, and in mid-moan, cut her breath off just as she came.”
“Wait! He described the sex act to you? What the hell, Jennifer. Don’t you have any self-respect?”
“Knowledge is power, Laura. Let me finish. He said they were having a great time, only it didn’t work like it was supposed to. Ryan said he might have pulled too hard. He heard gurgling. And then her bowels let loose; he was lucky to get off her before he had to shower again.”
I reared back, thinking I’d never look at Sandra the same way again. “That’s disgusting!”
The fact that Ryan had given Jennifer all the gory details just confirmed that I would not get involved with him, ever. Not that I’d ever do anything so kinky.
“Yeah, well, that’s not all.”
“Obviously, she didn’t die,” I said, grimacing.
“No, but she was out cold. Worried she’d throw up and choke to death on her own vomit, he turned her on her side and jammed a pillow behind her back to keep her over until she came to. He wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
“He ran down into the kitchen and took one look around; the wine glass he used was covered with greasy fingerprints. That went into the pizza box, along with the paper napkins. Anything he touched, he would take, just in case she didn’t wake up. He didn’t think he’d get away with it if she died, but he wasn’t taking any chances. That’s when he saw her phone. When he was ready to leave, he keyed in 9-1-1 and let it ring, leaving the apartment before they answered.”
The story was horrible. I was more than stunned. I was appalled. Something about Ryan had struck me as not quite right from our first meeting, and now I understood what it was. Ryan was a pervert. I was so glad I hadn’t succumbed to his advances or he’d probably be telling a story about me to Jennifer. I wished she hadn’t told me. But now that I knew, I was dying to know the ending.
“What happened after that?” I was amazed that Sandra even spoke to Ryan at work.
