As the next few days passed, Leigh began to fret more and more over the possibility she might cheat on Michael. She became nervous and irritated. When Wednesday afternoon rolled around Leigh was beside herself.
Then Gabby called and pestered her once again about calling him. Leigh remained ripped into her. "Goddamnit, Gabby, I told you to leave me alone on this. If you need to get laid call an escort service, but for Christ's sake leave me the hell alone!"
"Menstruating are we?" Gabby shot back, unperturbed by her friend's anger. This helped Leigh recover. She was already full of regret over berating Gabby. 'What the hell was wrong with her anyway?' Still, Leigh remained adamant and held her position, refusing Gabby's unsolicited advice.
"Gabby, if I've told you once, I've told you . . . ."
"Darling, you're not listening. This is fate. This is Kismet. You simply have to call if only to find out if he would see you."
"And why wouldn't he see me if I called him? He did give me his number," she said trying to hold her temper in check.
"You don't really know that."
"I've never cheated on Michael, Gabby and I don't intend to start now."
"Ahhh, but you're missing all the fun."
"I'm a happy person right now, Gabby."
"Hmmph, are you sure of that?"
"Whatever do you mean by that remark? I don't think it justified."
"It . . . it's hard to describe."
"What is?"
"The thrill of the unknown, the excitement of meeting someone new. The chase, the capture, the surrender to a new lover."
"You make it sound like a romance novel, but even trashier."
Gabby laughed. "Trashier? That's funny. It's hardly trashy. After you've met, the electrifying energy your body produces between meetings is . . . uh, I can't describe it. All you'll think about is your next time with him. It's fabulous."
"But what about Michael?" Leigh asked, and realized that she was caving in.
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Gabby purred.
"How can I possibly find the time to get away long enough to have an affair?"
"Ever heard of an afternoon's delight?"
"Get real Gabby."
"Not kidding Leigh. Honest. It's doable, believe me. I . . . I, I'm seeing someone this afternoon myself. Perhaps that's why I'm so . . . persistent that you try it too."
"Oh, it is a case of misery loves company?"
"No, no, nothing like that. I just thought you'd like to share in the excitement of it all. And he sounds so mysterious . . ."
"Gabby, listen to me," she said. "For once and for all, I'm not going to make that call. Do you understand?"
A deflated Gabby somberly replied. "Yes, Leigh. I do," and without saying goodbye, hung up.
But, things change. That evening Michael told Leigh he had a business trip scheduled for two weeks and that he had to leave on Sunday. From that moment on, she couldn't get 'Banning' out of her mind. He became an itch she had to scratch. It became worse after Michael left for the airport. She took a bath and masturbated. It was a short interval before her 'itch' returned. Rooting through her dresser, Leigh found a dildo she hadn't used for several years, and climbing into bed used it ruthlessly on herself. The tantalizing tingling returned minutes after she finished and lay wantonly across the bed sated but still hungering for more. She tossed and turned without sleep for most of the night and was exhausted when the alarm erupted at seven a.m. Leigh took a long cold shower and gave in when the insatiable itch returned as she made coffee. Still nude she searched for the card and called him.
A tremor passed through her legs when he answered on the third ring.
"Hello?"
"Hello. You . . . you probably don't remember me . . ." she began.
"But I do. You're the woman from the restaurant, who kept peeking at us.
"I . . . I'm sorry about . . ."
"Don't be. It was deliberate on our part."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I'm recruiting a new lover and that's one method I use to attract them. Are you interested?"
"I . . . don't know."
"We should meet."
"That's what I was calling . . ."
"I know. Shall we say Applebee's on Meister Street?"
"That's good, yes. When?"
"Tonight at seven."
"Tonight?"
"Is that a problem?" The place is crowded, very public. If you're concerned about your safety . . ."
"No, no, that's good. I . . . it's just . . . it's so soon." Leigh punched her thigh at her nauseating behavior. 'Get on with it,' she scolded herself.
"The sooner we meet the better, he said smoothly, and Leigh felt her knees beginning to cave as his honey coated words swept over her.
"Will your husband know you're going?"
"No." Her voice was dry. Grabbing her coffee cup, she scalded her throat and began coughing.
"Are you all right?" He asked sounding concerned.
"Uh . . . yes, yes. I swallowed some coffee . . . went down the wrong way. Sorry."
"Oh, I've done that myself. So your husband won't be aware of . . . our activity."
"No."
"That's probably for the best."
"He's on a business trip," Leigh was quick to add.
"Ahh, while the cat's away . . ."
"Don't be nasty."
"You're right," he laughed, and sent a chill down her spinal column. "I'll save the . . . nasty for later."
She laughed nervously. "I'll bet you will. Oh, by the way, what is your name?"
"My name is Roden, David Roden. And yours?"
"Leigh. Leigh . . . perhaps I'll hold onto my last name for a while."
"As you wish . . . Mrs. Hepner."
Leigh was stunned. He knew her name!
"How did you?"
"I simply asked the server after giving her a generous tip. She got it from your husband's credit card slip."
Leigh bit her tongue in frustration.