Everyone's Dirty Little Secrets (13 page)

She
leaves him
in the sauna
and heads back
out to the pool,
smiling
- the smile she
usually reserves
for him. 
Brigitte is back, floating on the air mattress, and Jaime can’t contain herself, giddy at her conquest.  She
takes a big, flying leap onto
Brigitte from the edge,
toppling them both into the deep end.

*****

Siobhan worries about Dodge.  She hasn’t spoken with him in almost a week.  It’s Friday.  She hasn’t seen him since Saturday
, but knows she will tonight.  She came right to the office from the city.  She wants to wrap a few things up for the week.  She wants to make sure Jaime is working.  She suspects Jaime disappeared for a few hours while Siobhan was in the city.  No return calls, no email responses.

Dodge hasn’t called, never responded to her message.  He didn’t show
up for their meeting on Monday – just
left for Montreal, not a word. 

Siobhan is no fool.  She
knows she is
missing something
.

She wi
ll put an end to all of this - t
onight.

Or so she thinks, until Jaime knocks on her door.

“Yes?” she asks. 

She is
curt, on purpose.  She doesn’t feel like dealing with Jaime and her mysterious disappearance.  It’s Friday afternoon.  She wants to go find her husband and set her house back in order.  She doesn’t care whether Dodge showed up for their meeting or not.  He covered the Montreal event like she needed him to.  It’s Friday.  She wants to go home and have a cocktail by her pool, with her husband, and get on with her happily married life.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t send Jaime a little signal that she is not oblivious to whatever she is up to.  She just stares at Jaime, waiting for her to say whatever she has to say.

“Dressler needs you tonight,” Jaime tells her, with little ceremony, picking up on Siobhan’s chilly demeanor.  “Soiree at his house.”

Siobhan doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response.  She just closes her laptop, because she needs something to do that indicates the conversation is over.   But she knows somehow that Jaime, despite showing no emotion whatsoever, is happy delivering the news
for some reason, beside herself
,
even

She wants to call Dodge, make a plan for later, but she stops, staring at her mobile.  No recent or missed calls, no voice mails, no texts. 

Dressler’s it is.

*****

Jaime is
on top of her game.  She is schooling Siobhan right now
.  Everything is going her way.  So of course she is beside herself.  She tries to not let it show.  But damn.  These suckers are eating out of the palm of her hand.

The truth is, she loves Siobhan.  Siobhan is perfect - she’s hot, her husband’s hot, she’s loaded, she runs things.  She is in charge of every detail.  It’s amazing to Jaime.

She doesn’t want to hurt Siobhan.

But Jaime loves this game, loves how everybody has ceded just a little bit of power to her - the assistant, the low woman on the totem pole - and how she has massed all of those little pieces of power into something that allows her to control more than any of them realize. 

Dodge’s weakness is obvious - it’s every man’s weakness.  She’s actually amazed at how well he controls himself around her, the way she throws herself at him. 
She can’t believe he hasn’t gone for it
. 

She wishes he would. 

She would stop
him, of course.  At least for now.

But that’s not the impression she’s giving him.

Doesn’t matter, though.

B
ecause he did it once
already.

One time his reserve broke. 

And it still
makes her smile
thinking about it right now
.

It’s part of what motivates her right now.

But not yet.

Siobhan’s fatal flaw, though, is harder to find.  She is so used to being in
charge that she has no
idea when she’s not.  That she could even not be in control.  She’s no Nero or anything.  Which is what makes it difficult to exploit.  But she has lessons to learn.

And Jaime is going to school her.

“Mr. Dressler?” she says into the phone when he answers.  “It’s Jaime.  Siobhan would love to join you for dinner.”

She’s hanging up when Siobhan walks out from her office, her computer bag over her shoulder.  She’s leaving.

“Did we get any mail today?” she asks Jaime.

Jaime shakes her head, not wanting her voice to betray her mood.

Siobhan is gone.

There is no mail.  That is strange.  Thinking of it, Jaime realizes she hasn’t seen Mr.
Chuck
all day. 

All day long she usually sees Mr.
Chuck
. 

*****

Passport to peril, laughs
Chuck
in his mind, giddy.

He keeps saying it over, holding Mr. Dodge’s passpor
t in line at the airport.

Beside himself, you could say.

Passport to peril.

Credit card to crime.

Going crazy.

Killing time.

Amsterdam.  Dam dam Amsterdam.  Dam dam, Amsterdam.

*****

The drone of thumping helicopter blades provide
s
the perfect soundtrack for Dodge to think.

Feeling above it all, the flight gives him some perspective.  Away from Jaime, he can think clearly.

He’s not really up here for research this time, though
he follows the flow of cars out of habit, mesmerized by the domino effect of brake lights blinking to life, one after the other in a delayed succession stretching out car after car after car
.  Christmas tree lights strung out on a highway.

He needs to slow down.  Needs caution - p
erspective.

After the flight
, he’s going home.  If Siobhan is not there, she is not there.  He is not sneaking out to Rod Dressler’s after her.  He is not going to be paranoid, or jealous.  If she is really cheating, the truth will come out on its own.  He doesn’
t trust Jaime.  Not like she’s malicious.  But the constant flirting
and teasing
is dangerous.  It could go too far.  Too easily.

It has gone too far. 

Not just the time - the one time - the time he los
t control
, the time it just happened.

Not the time he just went
for it, when she leaned
agai
nst him just a little too long
, when he tugged
her by the belt loop of her jeans
to the couch,
felt its cold fabric warm
in his hands
.

No, it isn’t just the one time that makes things too far.

It’s the way all of his thoughts go screwy and he starts thinking stupid things like he has to follow Siobhan and get pictures of her with Dressler. 

He doesn’
t want to see that.

U
ntil he see
s Siobhan’s car heading up the Thru
way below him.

Then
knows he has to follow her.
 

Knows that the truth has found a way to be found out.

*****

Chuck
- o
r Mr. Dodge, as he now calls
himself
- breathes in the smell of the dirty canals from the cobblestone streets of the red light district, watching a prostitute watching him from a displ
ay window.  In the morning, the skin shops
parade out the less attractive hookers
.  If someone needs a whore
at
ten in the morning, they
probably
aren’t too picky.  Save the more desirable products for the
lurid
night, for when the judgment of
pleasure-seeking tourists
gets
skewed by hash and cocaine enough that
they might be willing to indulge in a new thrill
.

Real live licking dicking sucking fucking.

A family show.

Chuck
is easily distracted though, a pair of jean shorts
commanding his
attention, his eyes rolling along
the thighs
of the
girl wearing them
to where her thin
legs
sprout
from
knee high, droopy brown leather boots.
  Fixing his eyes on her bare shoulder blades, protruding above the back of
a
white halter top, he falls easily into stride behind her.