[Steven Lyle Jordan]

10: Confession

Gail led me into the glass-walled conference room, over to a large conference table that was the sole piece of furniture there, probably because it was too large to remove from the room without disassembling either it, or the glass wall. She casually hopped up and sat on its edge, and the table was so massive that it didn't shift with her weight. "I was still with Pete when I started working for the company. At the time, I was a handful... full of myself, and especially of my power over men. I slept with the boss to get hired, and I slept with other execs to get further along. Pete knew this, of course... we didn't have the kind of relationship that precluded that kind of thing.

"Anyway, it didn't take long for me to become known as the company's 'secret weapon,' willing and able to be deployed against any enemy... or to make a potential friend," she went on, looking wistfully out the window at the L.A. skyline as she talked. "That was the kind of girl I was. You may have noticed, I'm something of a sex-crazed loon."
She paused, and I didn't reply.

"So," she continued, "life went on... and the livin' was easy. I was having fun, at home and at work. And somewhere along the line... it started to move past just sex." I narrowed my eyes as she paused, and decided to take off her suit jacket. She laid it down on the table, and now that I could see her strapless top, I knew she had nothing on underneath it. "It started with a potential client who had... some extreme notions of fun. I went with it, because I wanted to land that client... and discovered I actually liked it. Then came another incident with a merger, a year later... then another, to settle a lawsuit out-of-court. I loved 'em all. They turned me on like nothing I'd ever experienced. More, even, than... the U-bolt."

"What?" The U-bolt was her nickname for one of her toys, which I had used on her one night, and... well, without getting graphic (too bad, perv), that thing made her a screaming lunatic! I personally don't know how a human body could survive more pleasure than that thing gave her...

"No s**t, Mike... more than that," she said, having no trouble picking up on those leaking thoughts. "So I started to explore... the wilder stuff. With Pete. And he was game, at first, I mean he liked a lot of it. He liked the dress-up stuff... the bondage was cool... and the multi-setting unisex—"

"TMI, babe," I said quickly.

"Yeah, well. Anyway, after awhile, he started resisting. He wasn't into it that much. I... started demanding. I needed... more. I was becoming a junkie, a wild-sex nymphomaniac.

"Then, one night, I went too far, and Pete just... snapped. He ran away from me and locked himself away in the guest room, and wouldn't come out all night. The next morning, he told me he couldn't do it anymore... he told me he wanted out."

"Hold on," I said. "You're telling me that my brother couldn't handle having wild sex with you? You're telling me he broke it off?" Gail nodded. "Bulls**t."

Gail shrugged. "Pete's a good man. He's also got a healthy ego. The very idea that a woman was the sexual better of him really didn't sit well with him, and I could tell. If anyone else we knew had found out..." She paused again, and I thought she was finally making an effort to maintain her composure. "So we concocted the whole thing about me leaving because of his 'boyish irresponsibility'. Believe it or not, he was actually okay with that..."

"No," I said, "I'm not believing this..." But even as I was saying it, I was remembering all the moments since I'd come to California... all the words between them... all the looks... all the posturing and attitudes and banter... and I thought of Riley. Pete had said Gail's name, in a moment of passion with Riley. Even after what they'd gone through...
"He still loves you," I said.

"I know," Gail replied quietly. "As much as I still love him. But I drove him away, Mike. I did it... not him. And I kick myself for it, every day."

Gail went quiet, for a time. I tried to think of something, anything, to say, but I just couldn't. I finally walked over to the table and sat down next to her on its edge.

After another few moments of silence, Gail said, "I decided I had developed a problem. I needed help. I've been trying to... curb my appetite. For the past two years." She looked at me, and I returned her wry smile, thinking of all the things we usually did when we had sex... that was curbed? "Yes, this is me taking it easy on you," she said. I must be a sieve today.

"I also started resisting the same temptations at work," she continued. "That was hard. After so many years of being a total slut, going cold turkey was not popular with the fellas. They came close to firing me, more than once, when they realized I wasn't going to earn my living on my back anymore. I had to work hard, to prove that I could still bring in clients, that I could still do a real job, pull my weight... without..." There was a pause, as if her mind was running ahead and her mouth wasn't bothering to keep up with the details. "...a-and then Pete started seeing Riley, and it was too late for me to..."

Her voice promptly folded up and keened away, her head dropped, and her hair cascaded forward, hiding her face from me. After a moment, she sniffed, once. When she raised her face to me again, I could see the lights of the city reflected in the tears running down her face. "I've been a good girl, Mike! I'm cutting out the crazy stuff! And I've been trying to change my rep, but it's, it's so hard!—"

"I know," I said, shaking my head and putting an arm around her shoulder. "It's hard to turn yourself into a new person. Especially when you didn't think the old person was that bad." And as I said the words, I couldn't help but think of one other person I knew who could use that same advice. "Don't worry, you haven't done wrong by me."

"Oh, thank you," Gail said at once, and turned to me, stifling a sob. "Thank you..." She put her arms around me and kissed me gratefully... and passionately. After a moment, she pressed into me. Before I knew it, the warmth of sympathy over her vulnerability was turning into the heat of passion for same. She felt it, too, and momentarily, she started leaning backward, forcing me down to the tabletop.

In between her kisses, I tried to get a word in edgewise. "Gail—I—"

"I know."

"We—"

"We will."

"Should—"

"Yes, we should."

"Table—"

"Fine."

"Windows—"

"Mirrored."

"Sure?—"

"Who cares?"

"—"