do you play late with?’
It wasn’t as if I was admitting to anything he didn’t already know, but I still put off giving an answer until the silence between us grew awkward. ‘Five – but only three of them will be along tonight.’ David and Sam avoided the out-of-doors, and they only ever really watched anyway.
‘Uh-huh.’ Disappointment threaded the two syllables. His disapproval cut me up. I wanted him, you see, and I’d convinced myself it wasn’t the fact I was involved with several other guys that had put him off the other night. ‘It’s just I’m not altogether sure I want to be number six.’
I refrained from swearing, but only just. ‘Then why did you phone?’ I hung up.
I’d heard it all before, about how I was a slut with extra-loose morals and a slack pussy, about how I was a user and whore. I’d taken it from former friends and strangers, but I wasn’t going to listen to it again from him. Since he’d known there were other men in my life, why the hell had he even bothered to call?
He probably thought he was the guy who could save me. That he’d fill me up with his magical dick and then I’d never need anyone else in my hoo-hah. Well, I didn’t believe in magic dicks, and my pussy liked being kissed by multiple men.
I switched my phone over to aeroplane mode and shoved it deep into my pocket.
Hattie joined me about two seconds later, carrying a box of assorted greetings cards. ‘I thought we could have a bit of a swap around.’ I didn’t hide my irritation quickly enough, causing her to frown. ‘Is everything all right? Nothing’s up with you and Nathan, is there? That’s who you were talking to, right?’
‘Nothing’s wrong. We were just sorting out arrangements for tonight.’ I hated lying to her; really I did, but it was easier and less risky than presenting the truth.
‘Again. You’re always out. He must really love you, Lyssa. He’s always taking you places. Hey, you never told me what he got you for your birthday?’
‘Ah, yes. It was just some bits and bobs I asked for.’ In fact, he’d bought me fishnets, a garter and a whip, and suggested a bit of role-playing one night. I was to be a wannabe cabaret star, and he’d be the club manager, with whoever else wanted to join in acting as club patrons. It wasn’t clear to me where the whip came in. I suspected he’d bought it to use on me, rather than the other way around.
‘No fun for me tonight,’ Hattie complained. ‘Not that there’s anyone offering to take me anywhere.’
‘How come? You’re in now. You can’t be down for the late as well.’
‘Val wanted the time off to go to her cousin’s wedding reception. I’m the saint that volunteered to cover for her.’ That was Hattie, always the one to help out, even if it inconvenienced herself. ‘There is a plus side. I’m not wholly selfless.’
There was never a plus side to working the late shift on a Friday night. It was the worst shift of the week. Nevertheless, I waited to hear the supposed positive.
‘It means I’ll be around when you-know-who gets off for the night.’
And like that Leif Haralsson slipped back into the conversation. ‘Wonderful,’ I agreed, refusing to dampen Hattie’s romantic dream. ‘You can totally use that time to charm his socks off.’
‘Maybe.’ Hattie gave a girlish chuckle, and then she sashayed around the edge of the card rack performing her best sexy wiggle. To give her credit, it was a pretty fantastic wiggle. ‘Although,’ she mused, ‘I’d rather charm something else off him.’
‘Hattie!’
‘What?’ She pressed her lips together, trying to look innocent despite an enormous smirk. ‘Maybe, I’ll even tell you about it afterwards.’
I grinned too. Not because I believed for a second that she’d even speak to the guy, let alone get him anywhere near a bedroom, but because Hattie deserved some fun. ‘Girl,’ I sighed. ‘If anything happens, you’d better spill, because I’m totally going to want to hear about it.’
Nathan picked me up at eight that night. He was sizzling in his night-time camos, and I could tell he was up for some serious fun. ‘Careful,’ I warned him. ‘If you keep turning up in all these costumes, I might forget what you normally dress like.’
‘Wait until you see the pimpy suit I’ve bought. Cabaret night is going to be mega hot. I was thinking of arranging it for next weekend. What do you think?’
‘Maybe. Let’s not decide yet.’ I still wasn’t sure about it. It sounded a little too sleazy for my tastes, although Nathan was clearly well into the idea. ‘You know I don’t dance, don’t you, before you go getting any ideas about me cavorting with a chair, or any other nonsense.’
I guessed from his pout that was exactly what he’d been envisaging. Sadly, I was no Liza Minnelli, and definitely no Dita Von Teese.
‘You’d put on a little show for me though, wouldn’t you, Lys?’
‘No,’ I insisted. ‘I don’t dance.’
We completed the first half of the journey through the evening traffic listening to the radio. It was only once we’d crossed from the suburbs out into the open countryside that we spoke again.
‘You’re moping,’ Nathan observed, though how he could tell I wasn’t sure. I’d been making a particular effort to not think about Victor or our earlier phone call. It only made my blood boil.
‘Want to tell me what about?’
‘Nope.’
‘Something at work?’
‘I said nope.’
‘Has that jerk phoned you?’
An enormous telling sigh, wormed its way out of my mouth. ‘Once.’ It was almost a relief to admit it, even though I was loath to discuss the ins and outs of the conversation. ‘Nothing of interest was said.’ A fact I remained disappointed by. Maybe Victor was a jerk, but he was a jerk who hit my pleasure centres like nuclear fuel. I’d had high hopes when he’d rung.
‘What the fuck were you thinking even giving him your number? When did you give him your number? Didn’t you notice the fact that he had fucking weirdo stamped across his forehead? You don’t give out personal information to guys like that.’
When Nathan ranted, he sounded exactly like my father, and if I’d taken his advice, the only men I’d ever have seen would have been the local vicar and the dentist.
‘I mean, come on, Lys. Who the hell hangs around to watch when they’ve just stumbled upon some folks having a good time? The decent thing to do would be to turn a blind eye, not ogle them.’
I defensively squished my hands between my thighs. All things considered, Victor probably only weighed up at five per cent weird, versus ninety-five per cent hot. As ratios went, that wasn’t a bad one. Shame then, that he’d been unable to accept the small things that were weird about me.
‘I didn’t actually. Sam did. And it’s irrelevant anyhow.’ We weren’t going to see each other again.
