Chapter 8: Four women -- different motives
I got home to find Jen very cool toward me and she didn't offer any clues as to why. I wondered if it was because I had taken off with her sister. Did she go in my room and discover the fax from Miss Sterling? Had Beverly called? Shit! I had given Nadine my email address. Jen wouldn't open my email, would she? Ed wasn't any help either.
I went upstairs and checked my email. There were no messages, but I changed my password anyway. I was checking the desk in my room for fingerprints when Ed knocked on the door.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Miss Sterling sent me her picture. She's one of the credit card representatives we're negotiating with," I explained, still not sure if the fax had been disturbed or not.
He disregarded the fax, obviously having something more important on his mind. "Ben, I hate to put pressure on you, but we really need Miss Worthington's job. I just received a call canceling the flooring job we were going to start on Monday so I moved up the basement playroom project to next week. After that, I have nothing. I hate like hell to lay the kids off and I know your situation, but I'm not going to have an alternative unless you're able to close on the Worthington deal."
What was he saying? That I was going to be out of work unless Beverly signed the contract for us to remodel her home? "Talk about pressure! How am I going to sell her when she's stalling?"
"I think you know," my brother said, watching to see if I got his drift. Was he asking me to do what I thought?
"I'll meet with her tomorrow," I said.
"Tell her how nice it will be to celebrate Christmas in her new kitchen."
"Are you saying we can finish before Christmas?" I asked, thinking there was no way we could get it done that quickly.
"I'm just giving you selling points," he said, picking up the fax and looking at Nadine's picture.
"She says it doesn't do her justice. She's thirty-six, twenty-five, thirty-five," I said.
"I'm going to show this to Jen. She's frustrated. Maybe it will cheer her up," he said, leaving my room with the fax before I could object.
Suddenly, it hit me. Frustrated was same label Millie had used for her sister. "She frustrated because she can't get pregnant. Your brother shoots blanks." Tony had been here today with his wife and their two beautiful children, making Jen see what she was missing. Perhaps that was the reason she was cool toward me, thinking what could have been if she hadn't jilted me.
That's what I preferred to believe, Jen was feeling sorry for herself because she had made a bad choice. Still, there was the possibility that Beverly had called and Jen had refused to tell me. Also, she may have come into my room and discovered Nadine's picture. Anyway, Ed was going to show her the fax. Would he tell her that he was pressuring me to persuade Beverly to sign the contract to remodel her house? Would he tell her he was going to lay his crew off at the end of next week, including me, if I didn't produce a signed contract?
Now I was the one feeling sorry for myself. It was true that I had accepted three years of college tuition from my brother, but now I was beginning to question his motives for sending me far from home, opening possibilities for him to horn in on my girlfriend. What's more, it had worked.
I had relinquished my share of my parents' estate to my brother. How much had he made from the six houses he and my father constructed on our land? Judging by the improvements to the old house, the three-car garage and the new vehicles he and Jen drove, he could easily afford to square my credit card debt. He owed me that much, didn't he? And now he was threatening to lay me off during a slack time, just when I needed to prove to my creditors that I had a steady income and honorable intentions. I vowed to make my brother wish I had never been born.
My cell vibrated in my pocket.
"Hi, did you have a nice Thanksgiving?"
"Miss Sterling, I mean Nadine. Yes, I had an enjoyable day, how about you?"
"It was lovely, thank you. Ben, I told you a white lie before. I do have a picture of me in a swim suit."
"Great! Are you going to send it to me?"
"Do you want me to?" she asked, giggling.
"YES!"
"I'm hitting send," she said, cooing into the receiver.
"Thank you, Nadine. I can't wait to open your message," I said, already headed to the office to boot the computer.
"Tell me what you think. Be kind, please."
I assured her that I would be kind and we said goodnight.
The photograph was sent as an attachment to a message that simply urged me to 'be kind.'
As soon as the photo was finished printing I deleted the message, even before I looked at the finished product. The picture, being in color, made it much easier for me to determine skin tones than the black and white fax had shown. The picture on the fax flattered her; this one did not. Actually, the color photo showed every stretch mark, wrinkle, flab and imperfection on her body. She was lying under a beach umbrella, smiling at the camera. What could I possibly say that would be believable?
Dear Nadine,
The picture makes me want to reach out and say hello to your big toe. Can you feel me shake it? Can you feel my forefinger, tracing the outline of your left ankle, around and around it goes, up the back of your leg to that soft spot behind your knee. Can you feel it? Am I tickling you? Can you feel my hand on your left thigh, squeezing? Being a gentleman, I'll move my hand to your stomach. Do you feel it there, lying flat on your tummy? Next, being a gentleman, I'll move my hand to your left shoulder and on to your neck. Do you feel my hand tracing your jaw? Do you feel my thumb on your chin?
Tomorrow, we'll do your right side and then I'll have you turn over.
Your admirer, Ben . I sent the email, hating myself.
Not wanting Ed or Jen to see the picture, I hid it in my room.
The next morning I checked my email before going downstairs.
Dear Ben,
That was so erotic. Please do my right side, less gentlemanly.
Nadine.
I sent another message, giving a step-by-step description of the voyage of my hand traveling up her right leg, being as ungentlemanly as I dared. When my hand reached the V where her legs met I wrote that I found a wet spot. Unable to visualize more, I signed the message and hit send.
Two minutes later, while I was getting dressed, my cell phone rang.
"We're having a conference call regarding your settlement today. I'm going to push the others on your behalf."
"Thank you, Nadine. May I ask you a personal question?"
"Yes, you may."
"Are you wet?"
"Ben, you're so ungentlemanly," she said as she ended the call.
Ten minutes later she called back. "Yes!"
We weren't working that day so Ed and I were having a leisurely breakfast when Jen joined us. She was dressed for work.
"Have you done something to your hair?" I asked, wanting her to know that I found her unusually attractive without putting it into words in front of her husband.
