by Carrie Carr
Camina slammed the phone down. "No one is answering."
"Do you have any I.D. on you?" the security guard asked her.
"My I.D. is in my purse!"
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you upstairs without some kind of I.D."
Camina exhaled a breath of frustration. Idiots. That's what they were. All of them. Complete idiots.
Camina knew Bruce and Bianca were still upstairs, and she wasn't giving up. Besides, she needed her keys to enter her apartment.
"Is there anyone else working here tonight?" she asked.
"Yes, but he's on break and─"
Before he could finish his sentence, Camina saw the face of a familiar security guard, Ralph, coming towards her.
"Hi, Ralph. I forgot my purse upstairs and your coworker won't let me up."
"I'll let you upstairs," Ralph said.
"Thank you."
"I'll need you to sign in, though," he told her.
Camina was about to sign in, glanced at her watch to remind herself of the time. It was six o'clock.
Back upstairs in the men's room, Bianca stood sandwiched against Bruce's body. She kissed him, rugged and wild, her arms wrapped around his back. She could feel his manhood against her thigh. Though up until that point, he seemed determined to resist her, but her charm was wearing him down. She knew that she would eventually convince him to do what she wanted as it were only a matter of time. She pulled away from him, delicately took hold of his hand and led him towards one of the stalls, but Bruce resisted. "Too risky."
His consistent resistance was giving her a serious hard-on, if such a thing existed for a woman. "What do I have to do, put you on a leash and walk you in?"
Determined to coax Bruce into doing what she wanted, she was willing to do anything, even if it meant getting down on her knees. Literally.
Bianca dropped to her knees and began unbuckling his belt from his pants.
"Get up, Bianca."
"Don't be a killjoy."
"We can't do this. People are still in this office."
"So. What are they going to do, arrest us?"
Finally, Bianca managed to grasp his belt from his pants and wrapped it around her waist. She then unzipped his pants and slid her hand through his fly and circled his erectness with her fingertips. She observed the sedated expression on his face, as he seemed to almost lose his balance. She held his sex in her hand while she listened to the uneven breaths escaping from his mouth. Completely under her control, she stood up, and led him into one of the stalls.
And once inside, it was lights, camera, and action.
Camina reached the forty-fourth floor.
The door to the office was locked. She grabbed the receiver from the phone on the wall. Again, she tried to reach Bruce and Bianca. But nothing. Just irritating rings before being transferred into voicemail. At this moment, her purse was no longer a major concern. It was the whereabouts of Bruce and Bianca that weighed on her mind. Impatiently, she cleared herself of her coat and suit jacket. It was either too warm, or she was stressing herself out. She fanned herself with her hand while she waited, trying to figure out what to do next. She was about to try Bruce's line again when the locked door swung open, and relief swept over Camina's face. It was an attorney, Mark.
"Perfect timing," Camina said. "I forgot my key." She was about to go through the door, then asked, "Is Bruce still here?"
"I think so."
She disappeared into the door, through the dark corridors until she made it to her desk. All the while, she kept a careful eye out for Bianca and Bruce.
After she seized her purse from her desk drawer, she scrambled her way over to Bianca's desk and saw that her computer was on, and her compact mirror sat at the edge of the desk. This set off bells in Camina's head. Wherever Bruce was, Bianca was surely close by.
Camina slowed her pace as she made her way to Bruce's office. His office light was on and his half-opened briefcase sat next to his desk. A telltale sign that he was definitely still in the office.
But where?
Camina crept through the dimly lit corridors, the anger stirring inside.
Whatever they were doing, they were doing it together, perhaps having a late dinner in the lunchroom. But to her dismay when she reached the lunchroom, it was dark and isolated. After almost running out of places to look, she passed by two unoccupied conference rooms and considered checking another floor, when a noise from down the hall elicited an even better idea.
In the bathroom stall, Bianca and Bruce were all into each other, mouth, lips and tongue. Bruce sat on the bowl while Bianca straddled his lap. Wearing her red lace panties, her long skirt was hiked up above her waist as she grinded against his lap. First slowly then faster…faster…faster, like two beasts in heat.
Her hands roamed through his thick dark hair that she loved so much as she inhaled his hot musky breath, feeling herself becoming more and more excited. She continued to ravish his mouth with her tongue all the while not exactly sure how far she wanted to go. Still she wanted to play along as long and as far as she could. She stepped into the rhythm of the moment, wrapped his belt around his neck and pulled it snug while she feverishly continued to grind against his lap. His hands made their way through her opened blouse, over her hard nipples, which protruded through her lace bra. Bruce seemed so enthralled in the moment that he failed to give much attention to the belt around his neck. It wasn't until Bianca yanked it like a rope that caused a rouse.
"Take it easy," he said.
She had a thing for belts. It was her tool of dominance. He tried to release the belt from his neck, but Bianca distracted him when she slid her tongue over his bottom lip and devoured his mouth with her lips, savoring every minute.
Upon lifting her bra, her breasts swung from underneath and he gawked at them as if the magical moment had arrived. He circled her nipples with his tongue, and her temperature rose with each breath from his mouth.
He grasped the back of her head, his face to hers, and stared directly into her eyes. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Yes," she said in a faint whisper.
It didn't matter that she was in the men's room with a married man, half dressed with her legs wrapped around him while he sat on the bowl. Surely, he had no respect for her, but it was okay because it was what she wanted. She was having fun, doing the things she never thought she would do, while she traveled the malicious rode of adventure.
He guided Bianca off his lap, slid his hands up to her waist and moved her panties down her legs. Her intentions were not to go that far and her first thought was to stop him, but she couldn't. Having built herself up for this moment, if Bruce didn't make love to her now, she would lose it. Totally lose it.
After she helped him with her panties, she covered his face with them while he undid his pants, dropping them to his ankles. Just as Bianca was about to take the plunge, she glanced up and to her astonishment, saw the face of Camina staring down on them.
It was like seeing the devil materialize for the first time, and her heart thumped in horror. It happened too fast for Bianca's thoughts to catch up with the moment. Camina's timing could not have been worse. Bianca wanted Bruce with an undeniable craving, and Camina had unpredictably screwed up her plans.
The fury in Camina's eyes was almost deadening as she and Bianca shared a long, drawn out stare. Bianca displayed a guised smile, trying desperately to hide the true horror in her heart. Surely, she had avenged Camina back in the worst way as she was as close to Bruce as anyone could be.
"You son of a bitch," Camina said to Bruce.
Bruce's eyes glanced upwards and he saw Camina. "Oh, shit," he said as he removed Bianca's panties from his face.
Once Camina's head disappeared from overhead, Bianca heard the door close.
Right away, Bruce prodded Bianca up from his lap and pulled up his pants.
Was Bruce doing what Bianca thought he was doing?
This could not possibly be happening.
"What are you doing?" Bianca questioned mercifully. "You can't just stop."
Bruce tossed Bianca to the side and left the stall. Bianca followed close behind after she picked up her panties from the floor. Bruce stood before the mirror over the Basin and straightened his tie.
Bianca slid into her panties, her mouth twisted in disappointment. "What are you going to do? Go after her?"
"I have to."
Bruce's words stung Bianca's ear, and she felt as if she could kill him. Right now.
"You can't just stop and go after her. Who do you think you're fucking with?"
Bianca was better than Camina in every way. She was more beautiful and more fun and she would not play second. He continued to fix his clothes, while Bianca stood behind him, her arms folded.
"You're going to stop what we're doing to go after that bitch? You can't leave me for her. I won't allow it. "
Bruce turned to face her. "Get a grip, Bianca."
It was happening all over again. She felt picked over and unwanted, just like when she was a little girl and her sister Sandy was always the chosen one. She had become someone new, someone different, but she was still coming in second, and she didn't like it. Suddenly, as if her eyes opened for the first time, she experienced a lucid awakening which possessed a calming effect. In her sedated composure, she understood what she needed to do.
Chapter 13
BIANCA STEPPED FROM THE MEN'S room and was about to head down the corridor when she was startled by a voice.
"Bianca?" the girlish male voice called.
Right away, Bianca recognized Rollie's high-pitch voice and didn't dare turn around, not wanting to be identified coming from the men's room. Plus, she was not in a state of mind to talk to anyone.
Anxious to be clear of Rollie's view, Bianca sprinted down the corridor, heard Rollie again call to her, but this time was different.
"Camina?" he questioned.
Just before Bianca turned the corner, Rollie called out a different name. "Michelle?"
She understood his confusion.
All three of them wore the same hairstyle, and they were the same height and body frame. From the back, she very well could have been Camina or Michelle. Plus she and Camina both wore almost identical outfits that evening.
How was Rollie to tell the difference?
Bianca was half wearing her coat when she signed out at the security desk. It was six-thirty when she made a swift exit through the revolving doors.
The streets were covered with melted snow, and the wind was brisk. Bianca stood on the corner of Lake and LaSalle, in dire need of a taxi. A cringing chill from the brutal gusts of wind hammered against her, but was too impatient to button her coat or slip on her gloves. Finally, in the back of the Yellow taxi, she sat, her eyes glued to the window. She relived the events that transpired that evening, and she didn't like it. She obtained what she wanted, experienced her life the way her sister did, and almost completed an affair in the men's room. So, why did she feel so awful?
The fun was ending, and she no longer enjoyed the person she had become. She wasn't sure if it was because Bruce rejected her, or if it was because she was never truly happy in her sister's skin in the first place.
How would she ever be able to face Camina after what happened? Surely there would be no end to the animosity in the office now.
Bianca fumbled with the locks to her apartment door, her hands unable to remain still long enough to insert the key. Once inside, she clicked on the hall light. She was unable to pinpoint her disarray of emotions.
Was it regret?
Was it disgrace?
Or was it humiliation?
Perhaps, it was all of the above.
She stood by the door and did not move for several minutes. How could she have done what she did, behaved like a bargain basement hussy, half dressed with a man that cared nothing about her, and of all the appalling places, the men's room. The shields of reality came colliding in.
Was this what her life had been diminished to?
Getting even and having fun?
No longer was she the nice person she once used to be, the person Lee fell in love with. Her mind raced through bits and pieces of her past, toppled with a large dose of enlightenment.
Lee, her doctor and many others had all warned her, but she was too hypnotized to listen. Her transformation felt so right at the time, but not now. She was so unhappy and disappointed with herself. All she wanted was for things to return to the way they were before.
She stood immobilized with her back against the door, her head back. Still wearing her coat, she was in deep thought. The startling ring of the phone caused her to jump. Somehow the ring sounded much louder than ever before. She never thought she would ever be afraid to answer her own phone, but she was. She stared at the phone for several seconds, trying to decide if she should answer, then let voicemail pick up.
Standing at the kitchen counter, she couldn't pour herself a drink fast enough. She tried her best to make sense of what happened and calm her nerves. The worst thing that could happen would be that she lost her job and that she and Camina would never speak again.
If that was the worst scenario, why was she such a wreck?
So much she wanted to write it off as just another adventurous experience, but in her heart and in her head, it was much more than that.
A lot more had transpired.
It was shame in all of its glory from where she stood, and all she could think about was how she could make it right.
A long night awaited her.
Trying to fall asleep proved a true challenge and an even greater challenge to silence the taunting thoughts that played over and over in her head. It was embarrassment at its finest.
How could she suffer so much embarrassment even after the fact? Reoccurring disturbing visions of herself plagued her mind. All she remembered was sitting on Bruce's lap in the men's room, and the thoughts caused her stomach to churn. All through the night, she tossed and turned until she could toss and turn no more. She was unable to erase Bruce's face from her mind. Finally after wasting most of the night twitching and switching, she ended up wrapped in her red and white polka-dot comforter.
On the floor.
Sound asleep.
At six-thirty the next morning, Bianca awakened, exhausted, to her buzzing alarm clock. She managed to only secure a few hours of sleep and her body felt it. With her head throbbing, she mustered up the strength to climb out of bed and make her way into the bathroom.
She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her wild-looking blonde hair. Before she stepped into the shower, she wolfed down four aspirin, hoping her head would stop pounding long enough for her not to accidentally slip and fall.
Her immediate thought was to call off work, the norm for her these days, but she couldn't. Not this time. She needed to show up for work if only to make sure her job still existed. Most of all, she needed to face the aftermath of her actions. After weeks of coming in late and leaving early, most of her luxuries were used up. As lenient as her boss, Lillian may have been, if word spread about her performance in the men's room, that would be it for her, blonde hair and all.
It was time to face the drama even if she didn't want to.
Bianca stepped from the shower and didn't have the desire to apply a stitch of makeup to her face. She lacked that kick-ass attitude that transported her to this place of humiliation and disgrace.
How she referred to herself as BeeBee caused her to spit in the sink. That was not who she was, something so many people tried to tell her, but rebelliously and foolishly, she refused to heed.
Her eyes scanned down to the butterfly tattoo on her breast, bringing back memories of all that she had done. She no longer admired the way that her straight blonde hair hung at her shoulders, and she pulled it all back into a ponytail, the way she used to w
ear it. This simple look provided her with a sense of sanity, which was almost how she felt─slightly sane but very simple.
The forty-fourth floor.
Bianca stepped off the elevator, and to her dismay, saw the mass of officials. It was like a weekend convention as police officers swarmed the office. Detectives questioned everybody while employees gossiped with one another.
Down the corridor, through a mob of people, Bianca saw Camina Givens, speaking with a detective as if she were the spokesperson for the firm.
As Bianca approached the corridor, she saw Camina remove the jacket of her black and gold, shoulder-padded designer suit jacket, as if to show off her ruffled blouse to the detective who stood before her. Unexpectedly, Camina turned and her eyes met with Bianca, and for that brief moment, Bianca witnessed a fallen smile on Camina's perfectly structured face and immediately, Bianca turned away.
The biggest crowd seemed to have settled in the reception area, and Bianca wanted to stay clear of it.
Down the congested corridor, Bianca headed towards the spiral stairs, which led to the lunchroom. She needed to find out where the excitement stemmed from and most importantly, the who of the body bag removed by the police.
Up the spiral stairs, Bianca accosted Rollie fast. After twelve years with the firm, he knew everyone and everything. Rollie was sure to give her the skinny of it all.
"What happened?" Bianca asked him.
"Don't you know? Bruce Colby was murdered last night in the men's room."
Bianca's heart could have stopped. "Murdered?"
Rollie displayed a disturbing stare. "Don't look so surprised, Bianca. I saw you coming from the men's room last night, or at least I thought it was you," Rollie paused. "It looked like you."
Bianca stared past Rollie into space. Already he suspected her, which meant she was in big trouble.
