The Ties that Bind The Ties that Bind c Copyright 2005 By Harry Viens All Rights Reserved May 4, 2005, Five AM. My horoscope. Aries (March 21-April 19): Put purpose into your pleasures. You possess the instincts to succeed at anything that interests you. Investments made now could pay off – and a romantic partner is yours for the asking. I put down the morning paper and think that the opportunity of a lifetime is brewing for me today. I am a man of action, always have been. Purposefulness is what I’m all about. Hunt and seek, duck and weave, close in for the kill. As for instinct, well I’ve always had an instinct that my instincts were good, superior in fact to those of other mortals. I think I get this from my mother’s side. Old world Italians with a charm, herb or spell for most anything life throws at them. Investments? Less success there, since college I’ve managed to squirrel away a few bucks, but let’s face it, student loans, car payments and the other distractions of daily life have eaten into my pocket pretty deeply. This horoscope must be about the lottery I think. Invest a dollar, win a few million. The more I think about it I decide to really parlay my luck; a lottery ticket and a Powerball ticket. Dreaming, fantasy? Heck, the stars will make it so. I have it here in black and white, soy based inks on recyclable paper. Gaia herself is talking to me! Now the fun part; a romantic partner is mine for the asking. Romance has been lacking for a few months, so I start making some lists, eager to move on this turn of good fortune. The first list is women I know but have never really hooked up with. Friends and acquaintances mostly. List two will be old lovers that, well, frankly, I wouldn’t mind hooking up with again. List three is the wildcard, places I can go or things I can do where lady luck might throw a possible companion across my path. Random, unpredictable, exhilarating. I make a note to buy some condoms when I run out for lottery tickets at lunch. Breaking myself away from the paper I wolf down my cereal and head for the shower, working out the list details in my head as I put my morning routine into high gear. Thirty minutes later I’m on the bus to work with some good “think time” on my hands. I start with List Two and quickly narrow it down to five candidates: Mickie, Kelly, Pam, Jen and Brooke. They have a few things in common; there was no “relationship,” so there’s likely no baggage to overcome, they’re still single, and all are living within about a forty-five minute speed run in my Audi. I’ve eliminated all the ones who wanted a “relationship,” I owe money to, or where the sex wasn’t heart-stopping good. I rethink the money issue, perhaps that’s an investment pay-off sort of issue? Nah. Stay the course, besides I don’t have any way to pay them back right now anyway. List one is a tougher job. Many of these are married or neighbors here in the condo building. Tricky to make any of these work. After all, the desirable outcome is “romance;” not marriage, not a relationship, not even dating, no complications whatsoever. By the time my bus stop rolls into view I’ve come up with three good candidates: Claudia from the gym, Deanna from accounts payable and Carol, the waitress at the diner around the block from my office. There’s been some casual mutual flirting back and forth with all three so the ground should be somewhat fertile. So, according to the stars, its time to make the move! 8:00 AM Having used my commute time to good advantage I fire up the computer at my desk and open the three proposals I’ve been assigned. In the background I pull up a spreadsheet and start setting up my attack plan. If anybody drops by my cubicle I’m only one click away from looking like I’m working. Basically I figure I’ve got twenty-four hours to make this all happen. No, check that. It’s eight AM; the horoscope is no good after midnight. Damn! Wasted almost eight hours already! Sixteen to go. Have to work fast, so I decide to concentrate on Lists One and Two. The random encounters are probably a daydream after all. I can think about those after work. The spreadsheet takes no time. I add columns for phone numbers and project status, by eight forty-five I’m ready to start. Mickie, Kelly and Brooke are all pretty active with email, and Deanna is right here on the company system. I compose a standard email first: To: ___________ Subject: Checking In! Hi ____, Wow. Spring is finally here. Woke up this morning and realized we haven’t talked in ages. How’s everything? Would love to see you, bask in the warmth of your smile and just catch up. Whattya think? Won’t work for Deanna, but it tracks for Mickie, Kelly and Brooke. I plug in their addresses, connect out to my personal email service and fire it off. Have to be careful of the company email police with Deanna, so I try something else: To: DeannaA Subject: New vendor ID Hi Deanna. It’s spring and among other things a young man’s heart turns to updating the vendor list for the Blake & Blake contract. Do you have a minute to review some candidates? Deanna’s my regular contact in AP, so she’ll know there’s no Blake & Blake contract and this is an invitation to something the company email police aren’t supposed to see. While I wait for her response, I do a quick check on my personal email. Nothing, so I pick up the phone. 9:15 AM My first call is to Pam. We met one summer during customer service training for a local insurance broker and started out working together in a small regional call center for a local insurance company. They specialized in property/casualty lines, maintaining a 24/7 claim center. As newbies we drew the graveyard shift starting at ten PM and going through until six in the morning. It was a great shift. Just the two of us and no supervisors after 9:00 PM or before 6:00 AM. As long as the few claims that came in were processed efficiently we were left alone. In the middle of July the air conditioning broke down and since we couldn’t get the windows open we worked in the nude for the entire evening, cooling ourselves off with paper towels soaked in the chilled water from the water cooler. It was hysterical. From there it was a short hop to hooking up occasionally, and then more often. Pam had a thing about having sex while talking on the phone. It was a great summer. Then we were promoted to day shifts and sort of went our separate ways. I was sweating a bit when the call went through. "This is Pam." "Pammy, hey this is Jack." "Jack! How are you?" "Great! How’re you doing? What’s new?" "Oh Jack, it’s so good to hear from you. I’m fine, life is just wonderful." "Sounds like a promotion, back to customer service?" (Laughter) "Noooooo. Now Jack, that’s still our little secret, right?" "Always. But I can’t say I don’t think about you." "Oh, Jack you’re so sweet. I think about you too." "Well, I was thinking we should get together and catch-up." "That would be fun, Jack. My schedule is a little crazy right now, but maybe in a couple of months?" "Months?" "Yeah. I’m getting married in two weeks, Jack. The preparations are taking all my time. So maybe when I get back from the honeymoon and we’ve gotten settled a bit. Can I call you then?" "Sure. Wow, married? I thought you said you’d never settle down?" "Me too. But you never know, this just sort of happened!" "Well congratulations, I’m looking forward to meeting him." "You’ll love him, Jack. He’s a real character." "Great. I’ll wait for your call." "Count on it, Jack. Thanks for calling; it’s so thoughtful of you!" "Be well, Pam, again, congratulations." 9:45 AM Damn. That was a disappointment, so I look up Jen’s number and start dialing. Jen and I met right after college in Cancun. Both of us were blowing off steam before jumping into the whole career scene. The whole coincidence thing brought us together in a big way, “You’re from Boston? Wow what a coincidence, I’m from Boston!” Hey, corny, but it worked out. We had wild week and dated on and off when we both got back to Massachusetts. Turns out neither of us were really from Boston per se. It was just shorthand for saying we were from the Boston area. She actually lived out in Boxborough with her parents and I was crashing with some college buddies in a Brookline apartment without a car. Our relationship consisted of occasional get-togethers, usually at my place. It gave her a chance to get away from the “rents” and have some fun. We were both broke but we made the best of it. She was one crazy lady. She used to leave Post-it notes around the apartment detailing our exploits or top lining what she wanted me to do to her. Stuff like this: Billy, don’t mind the stink, we did the bad thing in your bed. Or, Jack, bend me over and fuck me like an animal. Or even, Jack, I want ALL your room mates to watch us screw. It drove my room mates crazy. I have to admit it made me a little nuts as well. To this day I can’t look at a Post-it note without smiling. Last I heard she was working as a junior analyst at a brokerage firm. The switchboard put me through to her extension. Voicemail. "Hi this is Jennifer Bradley. I’ll be out of the office starting May third returning on the ninth. Please leave a message or if you need immediate assistance dial star five five and my assistant Amanda will help you." Damn. I leave a message asking her to call when she comes back. 9:55 AM I take a break and head for the men’s room to get rid of the morning coffee that’s worked through my system. I’m back at my desk by 10:11 and check my home email for replies. Nothing so far. I update and name the spreadsheet “Vendor Delivery Summary,” then minimize my spreadsheet and bring up all the contracts, arranging the windows in a cascade on the desktop. That should fool most any casual observer who comes looking for me. Time for a run at Deanna in Accounts Payable. Instead of calling her I decide to “drop by” and see if I can engage her in some conversation. 10:19 AM She’s not at her desk so I stalk the cubicle farm and spot her in one of the glass walled conference rooms. She glances at me wearily as I walk by, smiles and nods her head to acknowledge my presence. I don’t know if this means anything, so I leave a Post-it note on her screen (thinking some very kinky thoughts) asking her to drop by my cubicle. 10:25 AM I have mail. "I’m out of the office today. I’ll respond to your email when I return. Mickie Sutton" It’s dated Friday so Mickie’s either out of town or not caught up. Damn. Nothing from Kelly or Brooke yet. Moving to List One, I call the gym and try to sweet talk the day manager into giving me Claudia’s home phone number. No luck, worried that I’m a stalker or something. "But you know me!" "How do I know it’s really you, Jack?" "Well who else would it be?" "I don’t know, but I can’t give out home phone numbers. Its policy." "I’ll be there tonight! You can verify this is legit then." "She’ll be here tonight too. You can ask her yourself!" And she hung up on me. What’s happened to trust? Sheesh. 10:40 AM I have mail from Kelly. "Jackie boy! Nice to hear from you. Would love to get together. Maybe lunch next week?" Kelly. What is it about Kelly? Average looks, average figure but she drove me crazy. The red hair I think. I remember my grandfather telling me that all the men in my family have a thing about red haired women. Must be genetic. Kelly had beautiful skin as well, not that freckly parchment skin most redheads have, but milky white, smooth soft skin. Virtually no body hair, just smoooooooth skin wherever your fingers or tongue went. Sweet. She was a screamer. Wailed, screamed, moaned and thrashed the air with her limbs. Major league ego boost for her lucky lover. Blue eyes, I think. Maybe green. Never got past the noise, just a bit toooo much on a full time basis, but for a weekend, it was pretty sweet. Yeah. Kelly. I fire back a response. "Yo Kell, next week? My goodness, I could be dead by then. Let’s get crazy, tonight?" 10:45 AM I have mail from Brooke. "Jackson, you dog. What’d you have in mind?" Bingo! I answer, "Something wild, something crazy, and something tonight!" 10:51 AM Nothing from anybody. And where’s Deanna? I take a walk. She’s still in the conference room; her chin slumped in her hands, nodding to somebody unseen at the end of the table behind the wall. I walk by, wave and catch her eye. Another weak smile, then she turns back to face the meeting, eyes and energy downcast. 11:20 AM Brooke is back. "Tonight? I’ve got a date." Hmmm, complication. "Break it; I’ll make it worth your while." Not an easy thing to do. Brooke likes it wild, kinky, unrehearsed, which means I have to plan it very carefully. Ropes, gags, blindfolds, sound effects. Always entertaining, nothing dangerous, but it has to feel dangerous. A date with Brooke means a quick trip to the hardware store for some props, another hit on the credit card that’s dangerously close to being maxed out, but according to the horoscope I should be able to count on winning the lottery. It’s worth a chance. 11:32 AM Deanna drops by the cubicle farm. "What are you up to?" In a whisper. Whispering back. Seems like the right thing to do. "Just woke up today and decided it was time for something new and purposeful in my life." "Yeah, why?" "Spring. A time for new beginnings. I whisper even lower now, I was wondering if you’d like to get some ice cream after work? Enjoy the sunset together?" She looks around conspiratorially, "Ice cream?" A whiney kinda yes, "But I’m watching my weight." "You’re a Goddess, you don’t need to worry about your weight, and you’re beautiful!" A smile. "You’re sweet, Jack. Okay, I’ll meet you in the lobby, 5:15 work?" "I’m there." I blow her a kiss hoping the security video cam doesn’t pick it up; otherwise we’ll both end up tied to chairs in the HR department sweating under high intensity lamps while they line up rubber truncheons and hot needles. "Blowing kisses to co-workers is against company policy, now you will pay the penalty in blood and tears, buwahahahahahahaha!" 12:00 Noon. Lunch time. I bolt for the exit bypassing the filling elevators. The fire exit staircase has a few people passing up and down avoiding the elevators as well. I race around them heading down three stories; my objective being a counter seat at the diner; front row with Carol. 12:07 PM Got the last seat. Carol is crazed, running back and forth, but looking very composed. I read the specials on the blackboard and signal with my right forefinger, Hey Carol, I’ll take the meatloaf! She smiles at me, and blows a little puff of breath upward, knocking back a stray lock of hair that’s fallen across her forehead. It’s a signature move, I don’t know how she does it, but she gets it every time. It’s what makes her so damn cute I think. I don’t know how this is going to work, the place is jammed, she’s busy as hell, there’s no way to get a word in. My meatloaf arrives, extra gravy, she remembered. That must mean something. I eat leisurely hoping the place will clear out, all the eager young professionals wolfing down their meal so they can get back to the salt mine and get more work done. Work, study, get ahead, work study, get ahead, work, study, get ahead. No matter how hard my parents tried it never took with me. I work because I have to . . . I owe, I owe, it’s off to work I go . . . hell; I’m just working for the weekend. I think there was a song about that when I was a kid. The place stays busy. I finish. The check comes. I slap down a few dollars, add an exorbitant tip and when she picks it up I ask, "Can I take you away from all this?" Another smile, Sure honey, anytime. And she’s gone. I stop at the register and try to engage her for a moment. "I’m serious, Carol. Are you busy tonight?" Her forehead scrunches up for a second. Another smile breaks through and she wipes that errant lock away from her forehead. "I’m off at five, we can have a cup of coffee, but I don’t think I can get a babysitter this late." Babysitter? A wrinkle I hadn’t expected, but too late to turn back. "Great, I’ll see you here at 5:00. We can have a quick cup of coffee, maybe you can get a sitter. Okay?" "Okay, Jack." A smile, followed by another puff of breath blowing back her unruly lock of hair. "Thanks, you’re sweet." Then she turns back to the lunch counter and the never-ending line of hungry customers. I head back to the office. Need to meet Carol, cram in a cup of coffee, set up a phone relay if she gets a sitter, get back to the lobby by 5:15 PM to meet Deanna, figure out excuses for both depending on how things develop. No sweat. 1:15 PM Back at my desk. I have mail. From Kelly, from Mickie and from Brooke. "You sweet talker. Okay I ditched the date. I’ll be at your place at 7:00 PM. You don’t even have to buy me a drink. This better be worth it Jackson or I’ll spank your ass blue!" Brooke. Two edged sword. She means it. I have to hit the hardware store between coffee with Carol, ice cream with Deanna and get home with enough time to set up the room. I’m thinking rope, hot wax. The blindfold is easy; there’s the bandana I picked up in Acapulco on spring break. But with Brooke, you never know, she might not show. Anything’s possible. "Jackie Boy. Tonight? I’ve got a meeting that’ll go for hours. I don’t think I could get free before 9:00 PM." Kelly I reply, "Hey we’re young, who cares? 9:00’s good!" Then there’s Mickie. "Jack, so good to hear from you. What’ve you got in mind?" Mickie. Mickie. Woof. A sultry, slightly slutty bisexual brunette with no inhibitions and always packing good weed. "Hi Mickie, thinking about spring. You know the old tune, The first of May the first of May, outdoor loving begins today….I’m already four days behind schedule. Maybe tonight you could help get me back on track?" 1:40 PM 9:00 PM, "Your place." Kelly 1:45 PM "Can I bring a friend?" Mickie. Why not? Mickie might pass out from the weed, who knows? "Sure! My place? 10:00ish?" I’m wondering what the friend might be about? 1:55 PM "10:00ish." Mickie. 2:00 PM My dance card is full. The spreadsheet is actually a little scary now. Need to blow off Claudia and Carol somehow, but again, I have to assume something will come up and candidates will drop out. Always does. I also need time to catch the lottery drawing at 10:00 PM. When’s Power ball anyway? 2:20 PM I have mail from Jen. "Jack, at St. Louis airport, running to make a connection. I’ll call next week when I get back. Luv, J. " Jen’s out. 2:35 PM Deanna drops by clutching a stack of files to her chest. She looks tense, her head flicking back and forth, making sure we’re not being watched. "Jack, I’ve been thinking about tonight. I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet in the lobby." "Why not?" "We might get seen. Since we work together on specific clients dating is a direct violation of policy. We could get fired!" She says this in a shrill whisper. Not an easy thing to do. I’m impressed by her vocal control. "Yeah, maybe you’re right." Her eyes widen. "I’m worried we might be seen anywhere we go!" Is that panic I see? "I see your point, Deanna." I pause for effect, looking thoughtful. "Why not meet at my place?" Her eyes are even wider now. She looks down at the floor and shuffles for a second. "That’s a little fast for me, Jack. I’ll have to think about it." I glance at the spreadsheet. "Eight would be good. We can hang out for an hour or two." "Hang out?" Cocking her head to one side as she asks the question. "I’ll think about it." 3:10 PM I start working on the three proposals. I need a ton of information for all of them, and of course the deadlines are all stupid. I fire off an info request to Jon in marketing for the customer data. 3:45 PM Phone. "This is Jack." "Jack? This is Carol." "Hi Carol. How did you ever get my number?" "You gave me your card once." "Oh, right. I forgot." "Jack, I’m sorry but I’ve been calling like crazy and I can’t find a sitter for tonight." Double damn. "That’s too bad." "I’d love to see you some other time." "That sounds great." I hesitate. Overly focused on tonight. Now what? "Jack?" "Yes. Sorry, I was distracted for a moment by somebody walking by." "So maybe we can get together some other time for coffee?" "I’d like that. Maybe next week?" Her voice drops a little. "Oh. Well sure." She’s disappointed. "I just need a little notice, for the sitter." "Can I get back to you Carol? I’ve got a line of people forming outside my office here and I really can’t talk." She gives me her number. "Call anytime, Jack. I’m home most nights, in fact, if you want to drop by sometime, just come on over." She gives me her address. It’s right across the street from my building. Interesting, convenient, exploding with possibilities. "Thanks, Carol. I just may take you up on that." 3:55 PM An email from Mickie. "My friend got the night off so we’ll be there early, maybe around 8:00. See ya!" I send a frantic reply asking her to stick to the plan. 4:02 PM An email from Kelly. "Jack, I’ll probably be early, had a change in plans, meeting is cancelled. " 4:03 PM I send another plea to stick to plan. An auto reply from Mickie pops back to me, she’s away from her desk until tomorrow. 4:04 PM No reply from Kelly. I go back to the proposals. No reply from marketing. I’m running out of time. On everything. 4:10 PM Auto reply from Kelly. She’s left for the day. 4:20 PM Stan from marketing drops a huge pile of printouts and reports on my desk. "Jon said you needed this stuff." "Thanks, Stan. I’ll return it in a few days." He leaves and I stare at the pile of paper. It’s huge! I’m thinking I’ll have to read all this crap somehow by Friday and finish the proposals over the weekend. Back to the keyboard, my fingers flying as I cut and paste everything I can from old proposals into the new ones. I’m thinking I can try and wrap up all the sections that don’t need customization. 4:45 PM My supervisor calls to review the project status. I’m spinning a tall tale filled with optimism and confidence as Deanna walks by and slips me a folded note. She smiles and walks away. I open it up and my heart stops. "I’ll see you at 7:00." Shit! It’s gonna be crowded! I leap to my feet and step on my chair, trying to catch a glimpse of her over the cubicle walls. She’s gone and my boss won’t shut up. 4:58 PM I run to Deanna’s office. Her chair is pushed in, desk is clean, system shut down. The order and emptiness tell me she’s gone for the day. 5:12 PM I shut down my system, ditch the spreadsheet and check email again. Nothing. I have four women coming to my apartment between 7:00 and 8:00 PM. I’m fucked. Well, most likely not fucked, but fucked over. 5:22 PM I catch the bus and drum my fingers on the seat trying to sort things out. This is trouble, no way around it. 5:57 PM The bus doors open and I barrel out the door, trotting up the street to the corner drug store, condoms first, and I still need a lottery ticket. Then the hardware store. It’s closed. I have to improvise. No wait, there’s another one in the opposite direction. I run this time. 6:25 PM I have my props, and I start running while juggling a bag of rope, candles, duct tape and Velcro. The little grocery comes into view and I zip in for some beer and a few snacks. 6:40 PM I’m running again, three blocks to go, jugging three bags now. No time for a shower, or anything. I’m hoping for some no-shows. 6:51 PM I come around the corner and I can see Kelly and Brooke across the street in the entryway both pushing my buzzer and talking to each other. Neither they nor my other lady friends know anybody else except me. This could be innocent chitchat. I stop to consider how to handle this, ducking behind some convenient hedges in front of Carol’s building. Another peek. The two of them are chatting now, and I see signs of surprise and concern. In fact it’s looking rather animated in there. 7:03 PM I’m still sorting my stories out as a cab pulls up and disgorges Deanna. As she pushes the buzzer the other two spring into action and soon all three of them are waving their arms and talking, at least I think it’s talking. 7:18 PM They’re still in there, but they seem to be making friends. In fact they seem pretty chummy all of a sudden, and not in a good mood. Seeing three pissed-off women smiling makes me very cautious and nervous. I’m not sure what to do, but I have a funny feeling that I’m dog meat. 100% persona non grata. 7:22 PM They leave en mass and start walking towards me! I beat a hasty retreat around the corner and run like hell. Ducking into the alleyway behind Carol’s building I wait for the unruly mob to pass. Nothing happens. 7:26 PM I peek around the corner of the alley. The coast is clear. I walk back towards the corner but stop suddenly. They’ve established a command post in the window corner of O’Hagan’s bar. It’s in Carol’s building and has an excellent view of the front door to my building. Looks like a stakeout party and I’m the guest of honor. They look grim. I back up and walk around the block. 7:32 PM I keep walking. If I cut around the block I think I can sneak into my place form the other side of the building. Risky, but I can’t stay out here all night. Plus if they spot me I can probably get in the door before they pay their check and catch me. But then I could be trapped all night. 7:37 PM There’s no way I can get into my door without them spotting me. Standing at the opposite end of the block I realize that the hedges I was hiding behind before also obscure their view of the entrance to Carol’s building. Maybe I can hide out at her place. With any luck they’ll get tired of waiting or some guys will pick them up and get me off the hook. Damn, I need to piss! 7:58 PM Carol’s voice through the intercom. "Who is it?" Jack. The buzzer rings the door open and I head up the stairs. She’s barefoot, waiting outside her apartment in a t-short and boxers. Very cute, very appealing. "Jack, what a nice surprise!" A hug, a kiss, she waves me in. I sit down on the couch she slides on to it next to me, tucking one leg under as she sits. "Great timing, I just put my son down for the night." Another little hug, "I’m so glad to see you. All I had to look forward to tonight was a glass of wine by myself and today’s soaps on the TIVO." From where I’m sitting I have a great view of the entryway to my place. I offer Carol the bags of snacks. I brought some chips and beer and things. She nods and rummages through the sack, stands then heads for the kitchen where I can hear her opening bottles and packages. I duck into the bathroom for a quick whiz. In the kitchen dishes rattle and resonate off each other and Carol reappears with a snack tray filled with cheese, and chips and dips and two glasses of wine. Nice. As she sits down her lock of hair falls across her face. I’m beginning to wonder how this always happens at the right moment. A single puff of breath pushes it back and leaves my heart aching. Cute, I think. Very cute. Small talk is next I figure, and sure enough Carol starts. "I was really surprised to see you tonight, Jack." "Why’s that?" We both start sipping our wine. "Oh, the look in your eye when I mentioned the sitter." "What look is that?" I smile and try to look sincere. Nothing going on across the street. No check that. Brooke just walked in and tried the intercom again. The ladies are sending out scouts. "The “Oh she’s a single Mom with a kid” look." "I didn’t know I knew how to make that look." "It’s instinctive I guess, Jack. Fear of complexity perhaps?" "I don’t know, Carol. Seems to me if you like somebody well enough their past doesn’t matter. If you love the Mom you have to love the kid. Right?" "Hmmm," I get a warm look back and her eyes are focusing on me intently, almost like she’s seeing me for the first time. I said something right I guess. "It takes a rare man to think like that, Jack." "Never really thought about it before, it just seems right." The entryway across the street is empty again. Safe maybe? Carol slides closer to me and turns her body towards me, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch. "I never realized you were such a sincere man, Jack. " She moves into snuggling position, insinuating herself inside my arm. Her body is warm and soft against me. Across the street another cab pulls up and out hops Mickie with her friend. Of course, it’s Claudia from the gym. 8:25 PM Kelly runs into the entryway and starts talking with Mickie. She’s followed by Brooke and Deanna. Faces are animated and angry looking. Arms are waving and feet are stamping. Claudia looks surprised at first, then amused. The five of them are really getting worked up. It’s a lynch mob for certain. After a moment they all head back across the street in the direction of O’Hagan’s. They won’t give up easily. I’m dead. Need to hide out here as long as I can. 8:30 PM "Well, Carol, I just feel like relationships are all about accepting the other person as they are." "So you’re not afraid of commitment?" "With the right woman? Of course not. I know what I want and I go for it." Carol raises her head and leans up and forward to kiss me; as first kisses go its pretty standard. Chaste and filled with promise at the same time. Exploring, both of us wondering what the other is really about. "Is that what brought you here tonight?" The moment of truth I guess. "Sure is, Carol." Seems like the right thing to say. She looks me over carefully, and then stands up gracefully. "Excuse me for a moment, Jack. " Carol leaves the room. Bathroom run I figure. Outside its gotten dark, but the entryway is still well lit. They’ve all left I think. But no, a moment later Mickie strolls in, checks the buzzer and then leaves. They must be rotating a check of my intercom. These women are pretty determined. 8:35 PM Carol’s back. She’s lost the t-shirt and boxers in favor of a very sheer lace nightie. Black, very sexy. As she moves around the room adjusting the lights the trim silhouette of her body is clear one moment, hidden and lurking in shadows the next. She bends to pick up the bag from the hardware store and I see the shape of her breasts through the nightie, illuminated by the light from the hallway. They are well-formed, firm, just a hint of softness where the muscles may have stretched the tissue during her pregnancy. It looks like she has no pubic hair, or its carefully trimmed. She’s in good shape I think as she slides next to me, pulls the curtain shut and holds up the bag. "What’s all this?" "Oh just some things I needed at home." A sly smile as she leans over and looks in the bag. Cheeky. The move is fast, and strikes me as being a little forward, looking at somebody’s shopping? She’s still smiling as she raises her head and looks back at me, putting the bag aside. Carol is naturally pretty without her make-up. Deep blue eyes, and carefully thinned eyebrows. Her dirty blonde hair is unpinned and loose around her shoulders, unlike at the diner where she wears it rolled up in a bun. Pretty. The gentle waves make her look young, and sweet. She leans forward and starts unbuttoning my shirt. An interesting development. When she reaches my belt she tugs the tail of the shirt out, opens it and then peels it back over my shoulders. I let her pull it off one arm, then the next. There’s a slight crack in the curtains. Outside I can see all the ladies standing around the entryway, taking sips from what appear to be bottles wrapped in paper bags. Great, now I’m facing a drunken, pissed-off mob of jilted, two-timed women. Brad Pitt and Hugh Grant combined couldn’t talk their way out of this mess. 8:45 PM Carol has undone my trousers and is sliding them over my hips. She peels my underwear off next and slides her head down while she strokes my erection. A glance up and then she engulfs me in her mouth. I’m feeling like the evening won’t be a bust after all. This lasts only a moment as she sits up and peels her nightie off, tossing it on the coffee table. "Turn over, Jack. I want to rub your back." I slide down into a reclining position and just roll over. Her hands are strong and her fingers probe my muscles deeply, working out the little knots and tensions of the day. This is feeling pretty good. Her hands run from my shoulders down to my biceps and she gently straightens my arms out along my torso, massaging and stretching the muscles as she works her way up and down. I’m totally relaxed. Well, relaxed until I feel the rope wrapping around my wrists. In what seems like a split second Carol has trussed both of my arms behind me. Secure and tight, but not uncomfortable. I try to remain calm. "Uh, Carol, honey, everything okay here?" She helps me roll over so I’m facing her. I struggle a little to sit up, but she helps me and then props me in the corner of the couch again. Through the crack in the curtain I can see the lynch mob still waiting. They’re passing a joint around now. Mickie and Claudia are hugging and kissing. Brooke seems interested and Deanna is sort of pushing herself into the middle of them as well. A cab pulls up and they all pile into it. I’m thinking that somehow I’ve turned a bunch of ordinary women into lesbians or something. If nothing else they’re in touch with their bisexual urges and I’ve managed to exclude myself. Damn! Carol’s fingers grab my earn lobe and tug my head around to face her. She’s standing in front of me, nude. Beautiful in the shadows. "Everything’s fine, Jack. Why do you ask?" "The ropes were a surprise." "You brought them, Jack. I’m just following your lead." "Oh. " Carol drains the last inch of wine in her glass, refills it and drains that in a single gulp as well. Then she leans over and straddles me with her legs, sliding herself right against my body. I can feel our genitals playing peek-a-boo and it’s pretty exciting. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and brings her face right to mine. We’re eye-to-eye, chest-to-chest. She whispers in a low throaty breath. "I don’t know what’s outside that’s got you so fascinated?" My voice cracks as I answer. "Nothing really. I’m easily distracted sometimes." She smirks in reply. "Time to focus, Jack." "That would explain the ropes." A nod. "I demand one-hundred-percent of my lover’s attention, Jack, and you belong to me for the rest of the evening." Chiding me now. "Don’t disappoint me now." Her eyes look stern, and I’m tied up. This is not a moment for smart remarks. She leans back to her right and brings my wineglass to my lips tilting it for me. I take a sip. She follows and takes a sip as well and then places the rim of the glass back on my lips. I sip again, deeply. Trying to relax and go with the moment. "To the ties that bind, Jack." I swallow, hard, and repeat the toast. "The ties that bind." I wonder if she’ll cut me loose in time for the lottery drawing.