Tonight is the night, Pierrick has invited me to dinner, and I can't imagine that he just means dinner. We spent the last months playing around at work, just teasing each other, we are finally going forward. If you haven't read the previous chapters, our games consist in practicing exhibitionism at work, mostly me actually, and also sometimes masturbating in places we shouldn't. But we never really touched each other, except for shaking hands. In a way, he is my superior in the hierarchy of the company so we have to maintain a certain distance, after all.
Pierrick lives in a nice suburb, just outside Paris, in a very nice house. I had to borrow my mom's car, because it would have taken me too long with my bike, and there is no way I would take the subway with the dress I am wearing. We are almost at Christmas so I chose my dress accordingly, it's red with big white edges, a matching beanie for my head, warm tights for my legs, black leather boots and a black cape to keep me warm when I'm outside. If I was a cocktail, I would be two parts of elegance, one part of sexiness, and a dash of ridicule because I'm not use to dress like that.
Along with the grand luxury of the tiny Fiat 500 -- thanks again Mom -- I wanted to bring something. But bringing a cake cooked by me would be more of a declaration of war than a gift, so I decided to put my trust in the bakery near where I live, and I bought a sublime lemon meringue pie. I am now arriving in front of Pierrick's house, and I can see that his house is well decorated for Christmas, maybe less than the neighbors but the effort is noteworthy. Especially since I was not expecting him to bother with such frivolities. I park my car, get out of the car, trying not to look to clumsy with the pie and my cape, and finally I ring the doorbell. A few seconds later, it is not Pierrick who opens the door, but his wife.
How stupid can I be, I was so convinced that this invitation was purely sexual, that dinner was just an excuse, I did not think one second that we may not be alone him and I! Even though I had noticed the ring at his finger. And I saw the picture of his wedding on his desk. I even smelled his wife's perfume on his tie. And when I think about it, that Christmas decoration outside is just too feminine to be the work of Pierrick. It's not Pierrick but his wife, Benedicte, who invites me to come in, she takes the pie and my cape, and makes me take off my boots, apologizing for being a clean freak. She is tall with very long brown curly hair -- I can't even imagine how long it would be if she had them straighten! She has tiny eyes but with a very dark shade, giving her a penetrating gaze, but there is so much kindness in her smile that it gives her a very peculiar look, she is at the same time impressive and adorable.
Benedicte is wearing a sleeveless cardigan with a long slit skirt, all in beige, she is very elegant without overdoing it. She is bare feet, moving graciously around the house like a ballet dancer. She mentioned it, but I realize that everything is perfectly clean, it feels almost unreal. She compliments me on my outfit, and her manners are so gentle that I even want to believe she means it. Pierrick joins us and offers to have a drink and to talk before dinner. Benedicte is a perfect hostess as she manages to make me feel at ease. She wants to know me better, she seems to genuinely care about everything I say, but she doesn't ask any question that would be too personal. She also avoids the topic of my work; she certainly does not want to spend the evening with work-related chatting. And she talks about herself, I learn that she has responsibilities in the fashion business, that she is about to celebrate her fiftieth birthday in a couple of months -- she looks ten years younger -- and among her many hobbies, she enjoys practicing yoga and violin.
This is not at all the evening I was expecting, but I am having a real good time. Benedicte is the kind of woman I dream to become when I grow older, she is beautiful, confident, skilled, and clearly financially comfortable. In a way, she reminds me of my mother, always impeccable and always inspiring. I just feel bad that Pierrick might cheat on her with me, but it is his marriage and his choice after all. We are now having dinner, Benedicte cooked a wonderful ginger chicken with zucchini and sweet potato gratin; I start to believe that this woman does everything to the perfection! We are about to move on to dessert and Benedicte is pouring tea in my cup, when she finally asks the question that I feared.
- By the way Claire, how did you and Pierrick actually meet?
- He didn't tell you? I said, hoping to dodge the question.
- I was hoping to have your side of the story; he sometimes embellishes things.
- It's very simple, really, we just work for the same company, we had to meet at some point. We quickly got along, and here I am.
- Is that so? I was expecting a better lie from you, she says with a disarming smile.
- What? I mean, what did he tell you?
- He mentioned some sort of transaction...
My eyes move toward Pierrick who is not missing a bit of our conversation. Is he setting a trap for me? Or does he like risky games so much that he is willing to play with me in front of his wife? I feel terribly embarrassed and I don't know what to say to Benedicte. She is right next to me, our knees are almost touching and she is staring at me, I feel so tiny and silly. She has been so friendly to me, I really don't want to cause her any pain, but I don't want to lie to her. I'm sweating, I'm confused, and I'm full of shame, so I snap and I confess everything.
- I sold him my panty in a sex-shop, this was our first encounter, I am so sorry.
- How much did you sell it? She does not seem surprised.
- I don't know exactly, in exchange he offered me a gift.
- What was it?
