"Hi, this is Ms. Baird calling."
"Who," Ilysa said politely knowing she should recognize the name and the voice, but having been just wakened from a deep sleep, her thoughts were muddled.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sylvi. My mind was still in the office, it's Kaytee. At NextGen?"
"Kaytee, I'm sorry, too. I'd been asleep."
"Well, now, I'm sorry for having wakened you. How many I'm sorrys is that?" They both laughed. "You awake enough to talk?"
"Sure. Or at least I'm getting there. What's up? Don't tell me Mr. Roberts wants a repeat performance so soon?"
"Jeez, don't offer. He'll take you up on it. As far as I can tell you and I are all he has going right now. As it is, it's an unusual day when his hands aren't up my skirt or down my blouse. When he says, 'Kaytee, please order lunch in for the two of us', I know I'm going to get pounded into the couch so I order something I can eat cold."
They laughed again.
When they'd regained their composure, Kaytee said, "I've been thinking about your boyfriend. Was his name Steve?"
"Yeah," Ilysa said suspiciously.
"Uh, I kind of like what Mr. Roberts does and I was thinking about what you said about your Steve." She hesitated.
Ilysa cut in, "You're going to call him and say, 'Steve, I'm a friend of Sylvi's and I'd like to get fucked in handcuffs'? "
"Something like that," she giggled. "I could bring my own whip and handcuffs." Kaytee started to laugh, but when Ilysa didn't join her, she quieted.
"He'll want to stick it in your ass," Ilysa warned her.
"Uh, OK." Kaytee's voice trailed off.
"OK. It's your ass." She paused. "Well, he's not as rough as Mr. Roberts," she mused. "But I wouldn't want to knowingly subject myself to . . . , ah, to . . . , that."
"I know I'm kinda weird, but I like it. Please don't think poorly of me because I like to do kinky things." Kaytee pleaded.
"No," Ilysa said. "I've got my own issues," she said. "I like men and women and I sleep with both of my bosses and their wives, sometimes in the same bed so I'm not one to talk. Forgive me for sounding surprised." She took a breath and brightened her voice. "Give the name of a good bar, a day, and a time. I'll bring him. We can meet, perhaps accidentally. Go back to his apartment or yours. Not mine. I don't want him overnight in mine just yet."
"You don't mind sharing, do you," Baird added hurriedly. "I just need to get laid sometimes and a cop with a big, ah, gun sounds, well, perfect."
"No. I don't mind. How would you feel about a threesome?"
"Beginning to sound too good."
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"You are going to take me out for dinner, drinks, and a formal apology," Ilysa said to Steve on the phone. "We're going to Paddy's Place. I hear they have great drinks, good food, and it's so noisy that you'll have to scream to apologize. What's your schedule like?"
Stunned, Steve said nothing. Ilysa waited. Finally, he said, "Friday. I have a date, but I'd rather scream an apology at you than sleep with her. How about I pick you up at six?"
"Make it eight. I'm not sure how long I can tolerate you."
"Ouch. Eight it is."
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As promised Patty's Place was noisy. They found a high table in the bar where they sat with their heels hooked over the chair supports. She tried to look disdainful, but he'd brought her a large bouquet of flowers and a beautiful card. He was being quite chivalrous. He'd even kept his hands off her bare knees.
She had dressed comparatively conservatively given that they were going to a bar on a Friday night. She showed a good bit of cleavage but not so much she looked like she was going to fall out of her bra. "After you apologize, we can dance." It was a pronouncement.
He took her hands and began what seemed to be a practiced, but sincere apology. Ilysa figured no girl could have refused him. As he concluded he got down on his knees and said, "Will you forgive me?"
Many at the bar thought he was proposing and applauded. She dragged him to his feet and gave him a solid kiss further increasing the volume of applause and cheers.
"OK. Let's dance." A path to the dance floor opened for them. They danced for some time getting closer and slower. They ended on the edge of the floor not dancing, just holding each other and moving slowly.
Back at their table, some water, and several drinks later, a salutation from nearby cut through some of the noise, "Hi, Sylvi."
"Kaytee! Small world!" She gestured toward Steve as Kaytee approached. "Please join us," Ilysa offered. Then, by way of introduction, she said, "Kaytee, this is a friend of mine Steve Callaghan. Steve, this is Kaytee Baird." They acknowledged the introduction as Ilysa continued. "Kaytee works at NextGen Plastics. She keeps the CEO in line. Steve, I'll let you tell Kaytee what it is you do. I can't wait to hear how you explain yourself."
Steve thought briefly then pulled out a set of handcuffs startling both women. "I arrest bad guys." He put the cuffs away as the women looked at each other. Ilysa was crude enough to think that Kaytee might have had a small climax right then.
"Sit, sit," Ilysa urged gesturing toward a vacant chair. Kaytee sat at the crowded little table her knees bumping both Steve and Ilysa. Her hand squeezed Ilysa's knee in thanks.
"What are you drinking," Steve asked signaling a waitress.
"They have a house Sauvignon Blanc that isn't half bad, I'll take that," Kaytee responded with a smile. She looked immediately away from Steve toward Ilysa. "How's your business going? Seems like the economy is doing well so I would expect that shipping is strong."
She led the conversation through the economy, touched on politics, then switched to entertainment. Finally she asked Steve to regale her with the latest in cop capers. Happy to have the floor at last he began telling stories about being an undercover cop in the city. He was at his charming best.
"Can I see your gun," Kaytee asked with a look that was almost a leer.
Trying to ignore the pun, but failing, Steve responded, "If I pulled it out here, there'd be hell to pay."
"If you won't show me your gun, will you dance with me?" Had she been chewing gum Ilysa would have swallowed it at that point. "Do you mind, Sylvi?" Ilysa shook her head. She was glad when the two left the table for the dance floor. For the first time tonight she felt she could relax. She watched as they flirted, now dancing with abandon, then closer. Each round brought them even closer. When they returned to the table, Ilysa had finished Kaytee's wine and ordered yet another round for the table.
Conversation alternated with dancing. Dancing alternated partners. The dancing partners got closer and closer. Last call came. "You fit to drive," Ilysa asked Steve, "or do we call an Uber."
"I think I can do it. If it's too bad, we'll call the cops and have them give us a lift." He signaled for the bill. Kaytee offered to pay her share. "Nope," Steve insisted, "on me."
Steve's Taurus had not improved with age. With some chagrin he explained that as an undercover car it needed to be scruffy and even a bit dirty. "If I take a city undercover car, I can't charge for mileage and I make a bunch of money off mileage."
Kaytee explained that she had come in a Lyft so she didn't have to worry about getting a DUI from some randy cop. "It's OK to be picked up by a randy cop in the bar, but not outside the bar," Steve countered.
"You got it," Kaytee agreed.
"How about my place for a nightcap," Steve suggested. The girls looked at each other as their level of excitement ratcheted up a notch.
"Do I have to worry about my virtue in a strange man's apartment," Kaytee wondered from the backseat.
"Not when you have the protection of a sworn lawman," Steve pronounced grandly.
"We'll see," Ilysa commented slyly as she found Steve's crotch. "Certainly with two of us there, we'd both be safe. Isn't that right, officer?"
Steve smiled, but said nothing.
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Steve's refrigerator yielded two bottles of a nondescript white wine as well as beer including that which Ilysa had liked so much.