Chapter 6 - It Wasn't Like That
"Take off your blouse or your boyfriend gets the lightning again!" she stated matter-of-factly, gesturing at the naked British man beside her.
In this kind of situation, Erica reflected, any sane person would have been full on fight-or-flight. For her, however, the intensity of the threat and the surreal nature of the situation offered a bizarre sort of pause for her mind to catch-up a bit in terms of how she got here.
It had started with a board meeting, she recalled quite plainly. She had arrived early to pass out the reports everyone would need for item 5 on the agenda, and had been pleasantly surprised to find the second person in the room to be Nigel Banks, a roguishly handsome upper class British stereotype of a man who she happened to know was not from London, but definitely spoke with a London accent, presumably, Erica figured, so he could pull a Hugh Grant act on all the young women in the office, allowing him to both sleep with them, and then dump them, without consequence, since what else would you expect from so transparent a cad. Knowing this, however, had not made Erica immune to Nigel's charms, or to the kind of handsomeness his face projected - the kind that made you resentful to the very concept of God for being so impartial in distributing beauty. It was simply unfair how good he looked.
"Good morning, my pretty," he had beamed at her playfully...
"Dammit" thought Erica in the now. "He probably just called me that because he didn't know my name."
She had not come to that at the time, however, and simply smiled back with a "Good morning to you, my fine sir."
They'd talked. Talked was generous. They'd flirted, Erica now admitted to herself. The man was like an AI Box experiment - given enough time alone with a single subject, he would have her phone number. Possibly her bra. Erica was embarrassed now by how much she had loved the morning thus far.
He had touched her hand. It was a small gesture, but the sensation was electric, intoxicating.
They talked some more.
He had touched her arm.
"Am I that easy?" Erica wondered as she played back the physical escalation in her mind, "or is he that good?"
They talked some more.
He had touched her neck. That was her favorite part. She wasn't even embarrassed to recall it at all.
They had kissed.
He had touched her breast.
"Yeah, I'm definitely way too easy," she surmised as she let the memory of that touch caress her all over again.
Then the door had opened, and the third person in the room happened to have two very unfortunate things going for them: 1) they were engaged to Nigel, which, of course Erica knew nothing about, and 2) they carried a taser in their purse. Who does that in this day and age?
The answer was Michele. She was short and muscular-looking, like some sort of cross-fit Instagram influencer or something. Having never met her before, Erica wasn't sure if she was a terrifying person, or just a terrifying person in the moment she'd met her...with her fiancee's hand on Erica's boob.
"Wow," was all that Michele had said.
"It's not like that," Nigel had seamlessly lied. "We were just having a laugh."
Erica was not about to tolerate that, however. "It's absolutely like that. I didn't know he had a girlfriend. This guys a douche, and I'm very sorry for you."
Michele was too enraged to express her gratitude, but she gave a knowing glance to Erica that could have passed for appreciation. Erica felt quite good about the exchange.
And then the taser came out.
"Calm down," Nigel had begged.
"No," Michele replied with the kind of calmness that is easily recognizable as a higher level of anger.
"You should put that away," Erica had offered, hoping their shared bond of trust would allow her to de-escalate the situation.
"No," Michele replied.
Then Michele had paused for a very long time and the air in the room felt thin and somehow insufficient for all involved.
"What time is the meeting?" Michele asked.
"Twenty minutes," Nigel replied. "Please put that down now. You're scaring the poor girl."
"Shit," Erica thought again upon reflection. "He called me poor girl because he didn't know my name...also he was using me to emotionally blackmail the fiancée he was cheating on. Douche!"
"Take off your clothes," Michele commanded, staring straight into Nigel's eyes.
"I beg your pardon," he barked back in outrage.
She didn't say a word in reply, but just stared at him then, and her eyes must have carried some sort of truth to Nigel, because he balked, and immediately started undressing. Erica had discreetly taken two steps away out of respect (but also safer distance from the taser). He only paused when he was down to his navy blue briefs, acting as though he were already naked.
"Keep going," she commanded.
"Oh come now," he coughed back. She took a step forward, and before the full weight of her body had landed on the ball of her foot, Nigel was shucking off the last of his garments to stand completely naked in the board room. The whole situation felt oddly appropriate - the cad had been punished and humiliated. This would be a fun story to tell her...
"Give me your shoes," Michele demanded, staring now at Erica.
"Uh, what?" Erica replied.
"Last chance," Michele stated.
"I'm not going to..."
In seconds, Michele was on top of Nigel, and the sharp sizzle of electric current could be heard, accompanied by a high-pitched squealing noise as every muscle in Nigel's naked body seized simultaneously before crumpling to the floor like a Ziploc bag filled with Jello.
"Holy shit!" Erica had cursed, immediately kicking her shoes off while Nigel rolled about on the carpet in the aftermath of agony. "What the hell did I do?" she dared to ask the woman holding the weapon.
"I see you, honey." Michele replied. "Take off your blouse or your boyfriend gets the lightning again!" she stated matter-of-factly, gesturing at the naked British man beside her. And that was that. That was how Erica found herself where she was.
"But," Erica replied.
