Just because you work with someone it doesn't make them your mate. That's the way it was with Jake and me. We worked well together but apart from that there was no friendship. We didn't actively dislike each other, we were just superbly indifferent. Away from work he went his way and I went mine and that was it.
It was at a work function that I met Erica, Jake's wife. She was a lovely little thing. When I first saw her my immediate thought was that Jake had been cradle snatching. She hardly looked old enough to vote, let alone get married. She was sweet and petite, with an air of naΓ―ve innocence about her.
It was six months before I met Erica for a second time. It was on a weekend, around lunch time, and I got a call from the boss. It turned out that someone had put a car through a shop window. Emergency services had extracted the car and slapped up an emergency cover but the owner wanted proper repairs done immediately. He didn't want to be in a position where his customers would be inconvenienced by glaziers on a normal shopping day, so he called our emergency line and requested we fix it.
All fine and good, but why was the boss calling me? I wasn't part of the emergency services. It turned out that one of our emergency trucks was at another site and would be there for the rest of the day. The other emergency vehicle was at a road accident, as part of the accident. He was out of action for several weeks it seemed. Desperation had the boss calling me, offering double time.
I had nothing planned that I couldn't put off. I told the boss no worries, bar one. I couldn't handle a big shop window by myself. Who's going to be my partner? Jake, that's who.
The boss had already contacted Jake. He'd been at the footy and was heading homeward even as we spoke. Could I swing past his place and pick him up? That would be easiest. (It would also save the boss having to fork out for Jake's mileage. He could be a bit of a tightwad at times. Don't know why. He would have charged it all to the shop owner.)
The upshot was that I toddled off to Jake's place to pick him up and go earn some extra cash.
He wasn't there, was he? Erica came out.
"Um, Andrew, isn't it," she said hesitantly. "Jake's not back yet. You'd better come in and wait."
I looked at her, still looking absurdly young, sweet, and innocent, and my loins said, "Well, hullo, lover." My voice, however, said, "Ah, no, that's all right, Erica. He shouldn't be long. I'll just wait in the truck."
"I shouldn't bother, if I was you," she said sweetly. "He just sent me a message saying that there's been an accident on the freeway and he's stuck on the wrong side of it. He may be an hour or so getting home."
I groaned and grabbed the phone and called my boss, explaining the situation. He didn't care. As long as Jake got there sometime today I should just wait. He didn't have anyone else to send. A gentle hint that he was quite a good glazier and knew what to do was met with derisive laughter.
"Listen, Andy, if I left my wife's party to go to work she'd break my arms. You'll find I can't do much glazing with broken arms. You just wait for Jake."
I called Jake, hoping for better news. Not to be, but could have been worse.
"Sorry, Andy, but I figure I'll be about an hour. The emergency vehicles are here now but it's still going to take some time to clean up."
I sighed and looked down at Erica, still smiling sweetly.
"You might as well come in and have a cup of coffee," she said. "It'd be silly to just sit here in the truck for an hour or so."
She had a point and I wasn't going to argue. I swung down and followed her into the house. I didn't follow too closely. I kept far enough back that I could appreciate the way her bottom swayed from side to side as she walked. Erica had what you would call a lilting walk, her buttocks putting a lot of happy action into what was really a very pedestrian activity, and I appreciated the view.
So we sat down and had a cup of coffee, not talking about anything much, and that took care of ten minutes. Erica idly picked up a pack of cards that was sitting on the dresser and dealt out a game of patience. Then she swept the cards back into a pile.
"You know any card games?" she asked.
"Poker," I said. "Do you know how to play?"
"I do, but not for money. People always get disgruntled if they lose money, and that includes me."
"No worries," I said, nodding towards the chess set that had been lying next to the cards. "We'll play for chess pieces."
Erica looked a little dubious, but shrugged and agreed. We took half the chess pieces each and started playing. A few games later I had all the pieces and a smirk. Erica looked a little irritated.
"I wasn't concentrating," she grumbled. "Split up the pieces and we'll try again."
"Sorry," I said, my smirk getting wider. "I won fair and square. If you want half the pieces you'll have to purchase them?"
She cocked her head to the side slightly, wondering what the catch was.
"You need to surrender an item of clothing for the pieces," I told her, and waited.
She gave a soft laugh.
"And I suppose you think you'll keep winning until I'm naked," she observed.
"Thought hadn't crossed my mind," I protested. "You can feel free to call a halt any time you like."
She gave this funny little giggle, reached around and undid her bra. A few contortions later she dropped a scrap of silk on the table, and I'd seen exactly nothing. I divvied up the pieces again and the game resumed.
This time the results were slightly different. A few games and Erica had the pieces, and I'm not quite sure how that came about. I'd get good hands but she just seemed to get better ones. The one time I'd tried bluffing she'd called me on it. That's what finally wiped me out.
"OK," I said, passing over the bra. "I'll pay for the pieces."
"You can't pay for the pieces with my clothes," she pointed out, that smile of hers showing sweet delight as she pushed the bra back to my side of the table. "You have to purchase them with your own things."
So she got my shirt. She followed that up by taking my singlet.
"Shoes and socks don't count," she announced when I tried to pay with those. "I'm not wearing any so you can't use them. We can call it quits now if you like."
She had to be kidding. Her luck couldn't hold. The law of averages was on my side and I knew I was a better player. I knew the odds and what to discard and the chances of improving my hand. Erica just went by guess and by god and got lucky. My trousers joined the items of clothing on her side of the table.