2 AN OFFICE GARDEN PARTY.
“I'm surprised you came.”
I shivered despite the warm day. The firm always hosted a garden party every year, in the early fall. All the staff and many of our clients were invited. It was my misfortune to bump into Jo St Leon almost as soon as I arrived.
“Of course I came,” I said coolly. “I was invited. So…I suppose…were you. I’m here, and I'll do what I always do. I'll help with the food, talk to the clients…act like a professional.” I didn’t wait for that to sink in. I walked away hastily – maybe too hastily. Looking at her, I couldn’t help but cast my mind back to what she’d done to me in the bathroom at the office.
I stumbled on some uneven ground. Four inch heels were murder to walk on, especially outdoors. All of us power dressed for this party. It was a chance to show off to our clients and we all wanted to look our best. But as I’d expected to see St Leon here with her cronies I’d gone a lot further than usual. The heels were black patent leather and set off my low cut, emerald green sheath of a dress. The dress was so tight I'd had to ask Bella to zip the back up for me. I wore two gold chains – one around my left ankle, the other at my right wrist. An opal on a heavy gold pendant hung between my breasts, emphasizing my cleavage.
“What are you doing, Beth?” my sister had asked. “That dress is way over the top for a garden party. It’s what you wear to an evening cocktail party.”
“I’m dressing for success,” I told her. “I want to show them I'm not ashamed. I can hold my head up. I'm not scared of anyone.” I didn’t add that most of all, I wanted to show them that I wasn’t scared of Jo St Leon. Bella hadn’t said anything more. She just looked at me knowingly, and nodded. She knew me. She knew how it was.
Saying that to my sister at home was one thing. Living it out however, under the gaze of Jo St Leon and her clique was something else entirely. I expected to see St Leon, but not as soon as I arrived. I wondered if she’d been looking out for my arrival. I shrugged mentally. She probably had.
Still, I was determined to do as I’d told my sister. I went to get some drinks. If nothing else, I'd help carry them round. The party was a pretty informal affair, and people helped themselves. However Henry liked the junior professionals like me carry food and drink around. It was a good way to meet people and strike up conversations, which often led to business opportunities.
I walked past Kelly Haldane, who was introducing an unfamiliar man to some of our people. I supposed he was one of her clients. She was pretty selective, so if he was her client, he was important. I looked closer at him. Good looking, in his early to mid-thirties, he was definitely worth a second look – and a third, for that matter. .He was probably not much taller than I would be without heels. If indeed he was taller at all. . With my four inch heels, I was taller than him though it wouldn’t be obvious from this distance. Short, dark brown hair set off his lightly tanned face. It was his clothes though, that set him apart from most men of his age. It was the old fashioned quality that people used to call the ‘Ivy League look' His tweed jacket looked like it came from Brooks Bros, as did his well cut flannel trousers and polished black shoes. Once again Kelly Haldane had an impressive client.
I collected a tray of drinks and hors d’oeuvres . I made my way from one cluster of guests to another, chatting to people. It gave me something to occupy my mind, other than the thought of what St Leon had done to me . I knew she would do to me again if I gave her half a chance. The past distracted me. Carrying the drinks round composed me. I felt better when I’d done my round, and put the tray down.
Henry caught my eye. He was talking to the man I'd seen before. I knew what he wanted. The firm didn’t hold these parties just to bring the staff together. Henry made good use of the opportunities they afforded It let him introduce new clients and convince the established ones that they were important. Henry made sure he talked to each potential client – or existing one -- for at least a few moments. He wanted to convey the message that they were all important enough for him – one of the managing partners – to spend time with. After that, he'd steer them to one of the juniors to take care of. That let him 'duchess' another client. I was to be this man’s minder.
I was happy to do it, particularly for this guy. He was handsome and well dressed. I warmed even more to him when I approached and caught their conversation. They were talking about European history before World War Two. Not many people’s choice of social conversation. But it interested me My Mom’s family had lived through that period and emigrated after the war. Henry and his companion knew much more than I did . I'd learned a lot since meeting Henry. He had persuaded me to read some books and even audit a few college classes. But listening I realised just how little I knew. Henry and the man were talking about how the Abdication Crisis had affected British foreign policy. I'd never thought of any connection till then. I was impressed.
I walked over. “Hello, Henry.” I kissed him warmly. He seemed a little surprised. Perhaps that was because I'd kept my distance from him since the day St Leon had beaten me up. That hadn’t been the direct cause but that night, my sister had convinced me that my brief affair with Henry was wrong. Today was different, however. A friendly warm kiss in public was a long way from an intimate kiss in private Bsides, I wanted to send a message to that bitch St Leon. I stopped myself from looking around to see if she was watching.
Henry greeted me in turn and introduced me to Peter Balfour. I’d heard talk in the office of Balfour Industries, an account the company wanted. The fact Henry was talking to Peter suggested he was something to do with the company bearing his name. Maybe I'd been wrong and he wasn’t Kelly Haldane’s client. Maybe she had brought him along to meet Henry in the hope that together, they might win some of his company’s business.
I smiled as I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Peter. I saw you with Kelly Haldane earlier. She's a great account manager with some excellent ideas that I think would be great for Balfour Industries. I think you'll like what our company can do for you.” I paused. “Let me get you a drink.” I walked to the bar to give myself a few moments to think. What was I going to talk to Peter Balfour about? I really wanted to talk about history but I couldn’t . He’d see that I knew so little and he’d think I was a fool. The safest subject was business so I resumed the soft-sell. After all, Henry wanted him as a new client, I'd try to impress Peter Balfour with our firm. I talked about some of my own projects too, trying to show I was part of the team – selling myself as well as the firm. Getting Balfour Industries on my client list would be a huge boost to my career.
Then I realised I was dominating the conversation. I knew Balfour Industries had recently formed a new division to diversify its business. “How are the new launches going?”
“Very well, though we’re having some challenges in the emerging markets. It’s difficult to recruit and retain good sales people.”
“Have you thought about alternate channels? Indirect sales force? “I'm sure I could design a campaign around that concept.”
.
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s something we’ve considered but haven’t spent much time on, yet anyway. I’d be very interested to hear your recommendations.”
I smiled. Peter was a gentleman - well dressed, intelligent and, it seemed, interested in what our business could do for his own. Henry would be pleased. I was delighted that Henry had introduced us.
Despite that though, I couldn't stand for much longer on this uneven grass. I knew I was already tottering. Peter would think I was drunk. “Come on, let’s sit down,” I suggested. “These heels!” We went to a table on the patio and sat down. I kicked off my heels. My calves and ankles hurt. I rubbed them. I kept talking, even though. I knew I was talking way too much. It was something I did when I was nervous or excited. Right now, I was both – nervous that I might fail Henry and excited that I might win a new and lucrative client for the firm. I knew I should let Peter talk too, but he seemed happy enough with me prattling away. I began talking about my ideas for multi-channel marketing.
Peter questioned several of my ideas and seemed pleased with the answers. He offered to get me a drink . he came back. We talked some more. The sun was making me sleepy and I stretched, making my dress cling even more closely to my body. When I leaned forward again to place my glass on the table, I noticed him smile. I blushed as I realized I’d given him a good look down my dress.
I tried to change the subject to himself. “If you don't mind me saying so, you're very young to be in the position you're in.” He looked at me oddly and my heart fell. Had I said something wrong? I pressed on, regardless. “Most of the clients I deal with are…” I giggled nervously. I knew I was beginning to make a fool of myself. “…old fossils.” I could have kicked myself. That was not a good expression. I tried another angle. “Working with you would be just so much fun.”
I meant it – and not just with work, either. I liked Peter Balfour. He seemed like just what my sister told me I needed in a man - someone like Henry with brains, success and maturity, but a lot younger. She was right. I thought it could be much more than fun working with Peter Balfour. It might lead to something more.
I reached for my drink again and brushed my shoulder against him. I hadn't realised he'd leaned forward a little. I looked up and smiled. He smiled back. Perhaps I hadn't made a bad impression after all. His hand was on the table. I brushed it. His smile broadened. I squeezed his hand gently and the smile changed. It was that smile every man had when he appraised a woman. Peter wanted me.
I remembered where I was and who I was talking to. This was an office function, and he was a potential client. I also remembered who I'd first seen him with – Kelly Haldane.
Kelly scared me. She scared almost everyone in the office. She was much smarter than most of us, and better at her job. She was often slower to speak up than many others, but that was only because she thought things through better. When she came up with an idea, it always worked.
None of that scared me. Yes, I envied her but I didn’t fear her. I respected her power and inner strength. It wasn't just her ‘born to rule’ air, though she had that in spades. She had the background for it. Her parents owned a boutique brewery and a lot of other things. She had finished high school at some boarding school in the East. She’d gone to the University of Chicago. She had all the right credentials.
She was the sort of woman that school girls had crushes on. She had all the qualities that girls loved and admired. She was sexy – she was stunningly good looking. She was smart and successful. I suddenly understood that I didn't so much envy or fear her, as I too had a crush on her. That made me more nervous and excited.
Kelly had a way of dealing with people. When Kelly wanted you to do something you did it – and you did because you wanted to. Not that she wouldn’t expect you to do so. She was always confident that she was right, and she usually was. She assumed that you would realise that, and that you'd follow her. People usually did. Kelly had determination – lots of determination. When Kelly Haldane wanted something, she got it. I wondered if she wanted Peter Balfour and his business.
I wondered if I'd been right the first time. Was Peter already Kelly's client? There was one way to find out. “What kind of proposition has Kelly made?” I reddened as I realised I’d said‘ proposition’ instead of ‘proposal’.
Peter looked at me blankly. “I’m…not sure what you mean. I'm pretty positive she has a boyfriend.”
“Oh I didn't mean that.”I laughed nervously and said the first thing that came into my head. “You wouldn’t get to first base with Kelly. The rumour around the office is that she’s a dyke.” I'd heard the rumour though I had no idea whether it was true. Perhaps it was almost wishful thinking – the crush theory again. I slapped that thought down. I didn’t go for girls. I looked up at Peter again. He was still looking at me strangely. What the hell was I babbling about? “No…I meant has she put forward any marketing proposals?”
“Well...”
Peter's silence made more nervous still. I was supposed to impress this guy for Henry's sake, and I wanted to make a good impression myself, for quite different reasons. So far, I felt like I wasn’t doing either. I really liked him. I wanted him to like me. I was vulnerable right now. Ending my affair with Henry had hit me harder than I wanted to admit. Even if I didn’t love Henry, he’d been a good companion. I was lonely without him. It was worst at night if Bella was out, which she often was. Henry and I would just sit together. I'd often perch on the arm of the chair with his arm round me and we'd chat. Sometimes we'd have sex, but that wasn't as good as a cuddle afterwards. I missed all that, and Bella's comment that I needed a 35 year old man, not a 53 year old one, echoed in my mind. I wanted very much to make a good impression on Peter Balfour.
I babbled on. “She’s not that quick. She doesn't come up with solutions very fast.” I was relieved that Peter wasn’t Kelly’s client. I wouldn’t be treading on her toes. “When she does, they’re good ones of course,”I conceded, but then I added something stupid. “But what most clients want these days, are real time solutions delivered fast.” I don’t know what made me say it. It undid everything I’d tried to do all day. I was blatantly undermining a colleague.
Then I made it worse. “Kelly’s not that old – she can’t be more than ten years older than me – but she isn't up to the digital marketing world.” I meant to say “Kelly’s forte is strategic thinking. She will design a whole integrated campaign. then she hands it on to people like me to implement.” Instead I said, “She'd be better off in some strategic planning role.” I felt like an absolute fool. I tried to distract Peter by rubbing my foot against his leg.
He smiled again with that appraising smile of his. This time it was longer. I hoped desperately that he was undressing me with his eyes and not thinking about the idiotic things I had just said. Besides, I wasn’t at all offended, even though he’d known me for no more than fifteen minutes. I was relieved, and flattered – more than flattered. He wanted me, and I wanted him.
I kissed him. He responded. The kiss turned into a duel between our tongues. I enjoyed it for a moment before it occurred to me that a table in the open at a company gathering wasn’t the place for French kissing. I broke the kiss reluctantly and stood up. I could feel the flush in my face and I didn’t want to glance down because I knew my nipples were showing through my clinging dress. “Let's go for a walk.”
We walked down a flagstone path that led us behind some trees. It was private there and moments later, we kissed again. “I’m…going to
so enjoy working with you,” I panted, my lips close against his. “When can we meet? Monday perhaps?”
“That sounds…good,” he replied between kisses. “I'm looking forward to…whatever you offer.” He kissed me hard again. I felt his cock hard against my tummy. He wasn’t talking about work. He was propositioning me.
“What the
hell is going on here?” I spun round. My heart sank. Kelly Haldane was standing a few paces away. Her face was white with fury.
Peter came to my rescue. “Please don't take that tone with me, Miss Haldane,” he said calmly. “Bethany’s just been putting some marketing ideas to me, and I must say I find them very interesting. In fact, she’s made me think you might have been falling down on the job recently, taking my account a little too much for granted. Bethany might be just the girl to blow away a few cobwebs!”
I was stunned. Was Balfour Industries already a client of ours – of Kelly’s? I was confused though. I hadn’t said anything definite about a campaign– or had I?
Kelly looked at me. I couldn’t meet her gaze. She replied, “Mr Balfour, I'm sorry if my performance hasn't lived up to your expectations recently, but I'd like an opportunity to put my case to you personally, to retain your account.”
Oh shit. Balfour was a client. Kelly Haldane will eat me alive.
“Well, I suppose you’ve given us good service in the past, Miss Haldane, but I'm thinking maybe it's time to bring in some fresh blood…some fresh ideas.”
“Oh no, Mr Balfour…you couldn't...”
I tried to keep this on a business level. I was skewered. Kelly would be furious with me if I took her client, but if I didn’t do something, Peter might dump the whole firm and take his business elsewhere. “Kelly, you need to respect the client's decision.” Again I said the wrong thing. “Try to be professional about it.”
Kelly’s face lost whatever colour remained. “Professional?”she spat. “That’s rich, coming from you!” She turned to Peter. “What did she do, offer to spread her legs for you? Wouldn’t be the first time…she's just the office slut. She'll do that for anyone!”
She got me so mad – too mad to think what I was doing. Far too mad to remember I was at an office party and Kelly was a senior executive. I leapt forward and tried to slap her face. Instead, Kelly’s right hand lashed and grabbed my arm, twisting it away from her. She let go and stepped toward me. She grasped the low neckline my dress in both hands and before I knew it, ripped it wide open. I was totally shocked but even more furious. That dress had cost me a month’s pay.
Another fight was the last thing I wanted today. My ego was still bruised from my loss to St. Leon. Her sneer earlier had sent me scurrying for cover. Besides, this wasn’t the ladies’ restroom. I’d almost certainly lose my job for fighting here. Worse still though, it was Kelly Haldane who I’d just slapped – or tried to. How could I be so stupid? Yet there was no going back. I'd started this – I had to finish it. Not for the first time, I felt that kinship to mountain climbers, that grim determination to overcome any obstacle and win.
I slapped at Kelly’s face again, first with my right hand, then my left. This time, both my hands hit her. “How dare you, you old hag!”
Kelly gasped. She hadn’t been expecting me to fight back. Now she seemed unable to defend herself. I pulled my arms back and then slapped her again, simultaneously with both hands over her ears. I’d heard that hitting someone’s ears would confuse them. I’d heard it affected their balance. When I saw Kelly’s reaction, I knew I’d heard right. She let go of my dress which was torn down to my navel. Her hands dropped to her sides. She looked stunned.
.
I thought I’d be able to end the fight there and then. I wanted to. I wanted to finish and apologise. I knew this was wrong. I'd almost certainly lose my job. I wanted to salvage what I could from the situation but to do that, I needed to stop the fight. Regardless of that though, I wasn't just going to surrender and crawl to Kelly Haldane. I slammed my hands into her shoulders, shoving her backwards hard.
She stumbled – she was wearing heels just like I’d been before I kicked them off –and grabbed at my arms for support. She used her grip on me to pull me into her however, and swung her knee up. It was only by luck that I managed to pull my left leg in and deflect the blow.
“You bitch!” I hissed, incensed. “You…you tried to hit my pussy!” I broke free of her arms and stumbled back. I was horrified that Kelly would fight so dirty, but when I took a moment to think about it, it didn’t surprise me – that was just how determined Kelly was. I shivered.
Relentless as she was, she still had to pause to kick her heels off. I attacked with my arms up, as if to punch at her face. It was a feint. I'd show her –and Peter – that I knew how to fight. Kelly brought her arms up to parry and I swung my knee up, striking her thigh. It hit hard enough to make Kelly gasp, hard enough to make her retreat. I stepped forward to press the advantage and Kelly swung a punch. I swung back, trying to avoid it – too late. She struck my side. I whirled away and countered, thrusting my elbow into her chest. Again Kelly gasped as the force of my blow knocked the wind out of her.
I expected her to retreat but she surprised me by instead moving in on me. She grabbed my sides from behind. I twisted out of her grasp, spinning round to face her again, and shoved her arms away. I stepped back to give myself some room to regroup.
As soon as I did, I rushed forward again. I planned to knock her down but at the last moment, Kelly sidestepped. Her arm flew up right in my path. I was committed to my charge. I tried to stop or to turn. I couldn't. I ran right into Kelly’s upraised forearm, taking it solidly across my throat.
My head whipped back and I came to an abrupt halt, then stumbled backward trying to stay on my feet. My hands flew up instinctively to my throat. Even breathing was difficult and painful. I didn’t even realise that I was leaving my body exposed, but Kelly did. Her fists hammered my tummy, several times. They sank in hard. My belly clenched tight and I felt the bile rise in my throat. Part of me wanted to give in, to beg for Kelly's mercy. The rest of me knew that would be a vain task –Kelly wasn’t going to be merciful. It wasn’t in her nature. I put some distance between us again. Kelly tried to punch me but I avoided it. We circled, eyeing each other.
I was tiring. I was still out of condition. I'd been going to the gym since I'd lost to Jo St Leon, but a few weeks at the gym was no preparation for this. As it had been with that fight, so it was with this one. I had to win quickly or I was going to lose, and lose badly.
I dropped into a crouch and swept forward, tackling her. My hands clutched her around her thighs and my shoulder slammed into her side just below her right breast. She went over on her back. I tried to straddle her. I almost succeeded but she rolled away, just in time. I got to my knees, breathing hard, but my near success had given me a second wind.
I reached my feet and tried to catch Kelly in a headlock as she got to her knees. Again I almost succeeded. She shoved my arm up and squirmed out of my grasp. She shoved me again and almost pushed me over. Her head rammed my tummy and I groaned. I fell over but I rolled and got to my feet, about the same moment as Kelly.
I attacked again, punching at her. I was winning. I’d gotten the better of Kelly twice now. She’d escaped both times but only by getting lucky. I was determined that she wouldn’t get lucky again. I pressured her, punching solidly. I was taller and heavier. My blows hit harder and more often than hers hit me.
Kelly unexpectedly dived forward, surprising me. Her shoulder hit me in my midriff, knocking the wind out of me. She wrapped her arms round me, then dropped to her knees and threw her body to the side. Before I could do anything to counter her, she had dragged me off my feet. She rolled, throwing me onto my back. I felt her leg beneath me, then her other leg on top. She suddenly scissored me, squeezing what was left of my breath from my lungs. All my efforts to escape only worsened her pressure. She was crushing my stomach.
I felt panic welling up in me, but that only made me more angry. “No you won't, you old witch! I'll never lose to you!” I knew I should have saved my breath rather than yelling at Kelly, but I couldn’t bear to lose in front of Peter. I punched wildly at Kelly’s face and body. I squirmed. I wriggled. I swung my head to head butt her in the face. She avoided that attack, but it cost her her hold on me and I got free. I scrambled away.
Kelly was too fast for me. She tackled me as I was trying to get to my feet. I went over on my back again, where I lay gasping. Kelly threw herself at me and almost pinned me. I just managed to roll away in time but as I did, she kneed my tummy again. I almost retched, it hurt so bad.
I managed to get to my feet this time, but I was exhausted and in pain. Just like Jo had done, Kelly was wearing me down – wearing me out. If I didn’t win this fight in the next minute, she’d have me at her mercy – such as it was. I had to surprise her. I put all I could into one last attack. I leapt into the air. I kicked out, and my foot cannoned into Kelly’s chest.
The force of it knocked Kelly backwards, her arms flying out wide. She barely stayed on her feet. I’d caught her totally by surprise. I got my foot back on the ground and yelled in triumph as I flung myself into her. She fell backward, completely off balance. I rushed her again, knocking her flat on her back
I jumped on her, straddling her belly. I was winning. Despite being exhausted, despite being unfit, I was winning. I was beating Kelly Haldane! I felt a surge of elation. I leaned forward, trying to seize her left arm. She flailed it wildly, avoiding my grasp, and punched at me with her right. I swayed back to try to dodge it, feeling the pain in my belly muscles as I did so. Then I grunted sharply –she had swung her legs up hard and slammed her knees into my back just as I reared backwards. I snapped forwards and she punched me in the face. Tears burst from my eyes.
Trying to regain my position over her, I leaned forward and reached for her hand. She shoved her body upwards, pressing her feet firmly into the grass and bridging her hips up off the ground. She was so strong – even as she pushed up, lifting me with her, she kept punching me. I couldn't hold my place. She forced me off and I rolled away, panting like a horse that had run too far. I got to my feet again. I was puffing. I needed time to recover.
Kelly didn't let me. She grabbed my head and pulled it down against her waist. My tummy muscles screamed as I tried to force my way upright but I couldn’t match her strength. She would drive me to the ground in a moment. Desperately, I stamped my foot down on hers. She howled in pain and let me go. She backed off, hobbling, favouring her foot.
I’d gained a little respite but I still needed to finish the fight. If I didn't, Kelly would finish me. I stepped forward, crouching, and tried to launch my body into a tackle. I was too ambitious and way too slow. Kelly anticipated the charge and sidestepped it easily. I crashed down onto my hands and knees. I was panting, wheezing, gasping. I struggled to get up. I got halfway when Kelly kicked me in my tummy. I doubled up. She seized a fistful of my hair and hauled me upright. She slammed her knee into my belly again. I sucked in a tortured, heaving breath. My knees almost gave way. All my joints were rubbery. She slammed her knee into me again. I would have screamed if I had any air in my lungs. She kneed me again, then finally she let go of my hair. I fell to the grass, whimpering. I was in too much pain to move.
Kelly wasn't finished with me yet though. With her foot, she shoved me onto my back. I tried to beg for mercy, but I don’t know if the words even came out. She ignored me and stomped on my battered belly. My body shuddered in agony. I couldn’t even think.
She dropped to her knees astride me. She slapped my face, hard repeated slaps. I cried. Despite the terrible pain when I tried to breathe, I found my voice begged her to stop. Thankfully, she did. She stood up and planted her foot on my tummy. I stared up at her, my vision blurred by tears. I was so humiliated. Again I had that feeling – utter emptiness.
Kelly turned to Balfour. “Peter, go get this slut something to wear…something to make her decent.” She looked down at me disdainfully. “Well…as decent as a slut like her will ever be. “ As he departed, she bent over me again, and ripped my torn dress down off my shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I pleaded. “Please…I gave.”
Kelly kicked me in answer. I groaned. It sounded pitiful even to me. She rolled me onto my tummy and yanked at my bra till the clasps snapped. She tore it off me. “For my trophy case!” she hissed in my air.
She got to her feet. “Stand up, slut! Stop crying!”
I got to my knees. Every movement hurt. I stood up on wobbly legs. My dress was down around my waist. My boobs were bare, stained with grass and dirt.
Kelly poked me in the chest hard. Even that almost knocked me over gain. “Don’t you ever cross me again!” she warned. “If you do, I won’t just have you fired. I’ll make it my personal mission to make sure that no agency in this town will ever hire you again.”
I nodded. One look in her eyes confirmed the truth of her threat. She could – and would – do it. "But I won’t do that unless you make me. You have talent…yes, not just for opening your legs. You just need to learn your place.”
“Yes Kelly.” I nodded again, abjectly. I felt lower than I’d ever felt in my life. I’d wanted to impress Peter Balfour and instead, Kelly had humiliated me in front of him. For that matter, I’d wanted to impress Kelly. I’d failed.
She continued to tear at me with her words. It wasn't just that she made me realise how stupid I'd been to try to fight her. I could never to that again. I knew I'd never be able to challenge her again in any way. It was more than that though. Somehow she had looked inside me and seen just how little was there. Worse, she held up a mirror and made me see for myself. I was nothing – nothing at all compared to Kelly Haldane.
She turned on her heel, not looking back as she scooped up her heels and walked off.
Peter returned. I watched him approach, my arms hanging limply at my sides. I didn’t even bother to cover myself. I was too broken to care. He had a blanket which he wrapped around me. That kindness made me more ashamed than ever. I wept. I didn’t want to face the notion that I was so helpless that someone – a man I'd tried to impress – had to wrap me in a blanket. He asked where Kelly was. “Gone,”was all I could stammer. I was trembling like a leaf.
He offered to drive me home – I’d come to the party via the El and a cab. We walked to his car with him supporting me, his arm around my shoulders. On the way, I disgraced myself even further. I'd lost my contact lenses in the fight – yes, I was too vain to wear glasses so I wore contacts to cure my long sightedness. Now I paid the price – I could hardly even focus on the ground. I kept stumbling and Peter had to continually rescue me from falling.
I protested that he didn’t need to drive me home but he insisted and I was secretly grateful. I was even more grateful that he insisted on taking me out for coffee. I didn't want to face an evening alone with my thoughts –with my shame.
He waited in my living room while I took a long shower, letting the hot water play over every sore part of my body, easing the tightened muscles, soothing the pain. I dressed up. I wanted to salvage something from the day, something of my shattered dignity. I pulled on a tight turtle neck sweater, the only top that would cover the bruises on my neck and arms, and a long tight skirt that would cover the scratches on my legs. My muscles were so sore that I had to struggle to put both of them on.
To my surprise Peter didn’t seem to mind that I’d lost the fight. Over a strong coffee, he told me that I'd been unlucky and that it was no disgrace to lose to Kelly, who he described as a domineering, overly competitive bitch. He made me feel good– or at least a little better – about myself again, telling me I was still attractive and sexy. As if to prove it, he kissed me. It started gently, but soon turned into a full on tongue duel to rival our earlier kiss under the trees.
After the kiss, we talked more about the fight. As I thought, he had taken pictures with his phone. He spoke about them. At least, I thought, that would stop or at least delay any more intimacy. It wasn’t that I was playing hard to get – I was just playing for keeps. I liked this man and I didn't want him to believe Kelly when she had said I was the office slut. Peter was the sort of man Bella would say was just right for me. And I thought he was, too.
Intimacy was front and center in Peter's mind though. He fondled my butt. When he kissed me again, I couldn't help responding. I needed comfort, assurance. I needed someone to make me believable that I was desirable, that I was worth something despite the humiliation of the day. Who better for that, than this charming, sophisticated, sexy man?
He suggested dinner. I suggested a jazz bar. It wasn't far. As we ate, he slid his arm round my shoulder. It felt good, comforting, almost as though he was the elder brother I'd never had – though I couldn’t imagine an elder brother fondling me the way he did, nor could I imagine rubbing my elder brother’s thigh and feeling his cock through his trousers. He asked about my past – about fighting, my family, what I wanted in my job and my life. I was flattered that he was interested. I did my best to give him good answers – answers that were true, but presented the truth favourably.
I went to the bathroom. When I came back, he had moved to a single chair instead of the bench where we had both sat before. He suggested I should bring a chair up and sit next to him, but if he had wanted me to sit next to him, he’ still be on the bench. I knew what he wanted – for me to sit in his lap. I smiled as I gave in. For form's sake, I asked him if he minded.
“Of course not,” he smiled. “It’s not every day that I have a sex goddess offer to sit in my lap.” I sat down and he kissed me again. His arm slid around my waist. The band started another set I started wriggling and twisting in time with music. I blushed when I realised I was giving him a lap dance. I stopped but he kissed me again. “Don’t stop on my account.” By then I knew he wanted sex. He was like all men. But he wanted it from me, even after he'd seen Kelly Haldane destroy me. I tried to change the topic back to work. It wasn’t happening. He started pushing on me to the beat of the music. I got serious and gave him a proper, though still surreptitious, lap dance. I'd done it before. I was good at it. He thought so too, judging by the way his cock was jabbing me through his pants.
After about ten minutes of that, he offered to take me home. I knew I'd been right. He wanted to sleep with me. I certainly wasn't going to say no. He flattered me, saying I was better than Kelly, that if I fought her again, I'd beat her. That was sweet of him but I had no intention of ever trying to fight her again. I didn't say that though. He might have thought I was weak. My arms were so sore, I had to ask him to take off my top. He didn’t seem to mind.
I gave him a blow job. All men seemed to like that. But he was different – he stopped me and then traded positions. He ate me out. I was amazed. I'd had to ask, even beg other guys to do this. He just wanted to. He was a keeper! And he was a great lover too. After we made love he ate me again till I was exhausted. By the time he finally finished, I could hardly move. I wanted to ask him to stay the night but I was panting too much to get the words out properly. We cuddled for a while and then he left.
I hoped, without a lot of hope, that it had been more than a one night stand. But it didn’t hurt to hope.
This is Bethany's version of the story narrated by Peter Balfour as Bethany Solicits Business. My thanks to the Scribbler for his editing and to my other friends for their ideas and support. Most of what is good in this story is theirs.
