Mostly she was pissed, but she still had moments when she was worried and concerned about Heath. She found herself lamenting the fact that she had never met any of his friends, so she had no one to call to make sure he was OK. She had thought about calling the chef at Aqua, but she stopped herself, not wanting to look more like a fool than she already did if he was just blowing her off.
What if he has a girlfriend? Or worse, what if he’s married?
The possibility that he was someone else’s man plagued her. She wracked her brain for signs that he was in another relationship already, and although she couldn’t come up with any verifiable signs there was room for the possibility to creep into her mind.
He was a salesman and traveled a lot for his work. He admitted to her that his profile on Compatibility wasn’t really “active”; rather, he had just left it up there out of laziness and an occasional interest in someone who visited his profile. That could certainly be the sign of a bored husband, she thought, torturing herself. She would have hated to have blindly fallen into bed with someone else’s man.
There were other possible signs, too. He didn’t live in Scottsville itself; instead, he lived further away near Bayside. Perhaps he only dated outside of his sandbox in order to avoid running into anyone who knew him or his significant other.
There was his house: it was sparsely decorated. She had attributed that to the fact that he was a single man, and his design aesthetic was über-modern. In fact, she felt like she had walked into the apartment of the character in the old movie 9 1/2 Weeks the first time she went to his house. Maybe it was a crash pad for him and some equally shady friends. He could be living some perverted version of Fight Club—Fuck Club, maybe—where they all went in together to set up a house where they could entertain their lady friends.
Alex imagined they all kept clothes in the closet to make it look like they lived there full-time. Each of them could use the same story of always traveling for work. They could keep random family photos there to make it look lived in, but in reality they shared the rent and a cleaning lady plus the cost of keeping the bar stocked with tequila and champagne for the clueless women they seduced.
I would not be surprised at all to find out something like this was really going on.
I’ve been working at the Prosecutor’s Office for too long, she thought.
Alex stopped herself. She knew she was going off the deep end and needed to quit the mind-fucking. Heath’s doing enough of that for both of us. She needed to get ready for work and she had to have her head on straight for the week. Sheila had a lot going on, and if Alex played her cards right, this could be big for her career.
She clearly saw that for the past three weeks—three amorous, divine weeks—she had been distracted at work and exhausted most of the time. The late nights spent fucking with only fitful dozing afterwards until she was sober enough to drive home had taken their toll. Alex knew this less than ideal practice had not gone unnoticed by either Beverly or Mari—and if they noticed, everyone else had too. She hadn’t cared at the time, but now that there was a little bit of space and breathing room between her and Heath she realized she had taken his bait hook, line, and sinker.
I sure did take his bait.
The pun made her giggle, but she knew it was no laughing matter, especially now that she had to do the not-so-fun version of the walk of shame. Not the one where you walk out in the morning with your hair a mess and your panties in your pocket, but the one where you walk down the hall at work with your head down and your heart broken, hoping no one asks you how your weekend away was.
Maybe I shouldn’t have slept with him on the first date, she thought. But God damn it she had wanted to, and this was 2014—why the hell shouldn’t she? Should she have been playing some game? Maybe she should have read The Rules or been more committed to not giving up the “cookie” for ninety days, like some other best-selling book had instructed.
She hadn’t lied to Mari when she told her she was “just in it for the fun,” but it was inevitable that the attention poured on her by such a successful, attractive man would prove addictive. It was difficult to keep her bearings and keep the upper hand when she was around Heath. She was so attracted to him—all the time—and she enjoyed feeling sexy and being desired.
After Josh left she realized how detrimental it had been to her self-esteem to be constantly turned down sexually. She had found it empowering to get back in touch with her sexuality and the feeling of power that came with it.
She thought back to when she lived with Josh and how he made her feel bad for wanting to be intimate with him. Josh would frequently get mad at her for “making a move” on him. All she wanted was what anyone, male or female, really wanted—to be desired, to be found attractive by someone, and to be with someone who was turned on by them. It wasn’t some kind of power trip or some strange form of neediness within her; it was a normal, healthy urge.
She had always had a positive attitude towards sex and didn’t see herself as loose or free with her sexuality—she didn’t have sex unless she wanted to. But she also wasn’t prudish or hung up on it, like many women she knew.
Alex thought she walked the line between slut and Madonna quite well, thank you very much. The irony was that she and Josh had once had a very lovely sexual relationship, and so she was deeply hurt and surprised when his desire for her seemed to dry up inexplicably. It had happened to be about the time Josh began to get really weird about body fluids. The fact that she got really, really wet when they fucked began to gross him out, which, in turn, began to make her wonder if she was abnormal. She had always thought it was a turn-on for men that she got so wet. Most of the men she had been with before Josh had loved it, telling her oh my God you are so wet, that’s such a turn-on.
She didn’t think anything of it when Josh never commented on it while they were dating. But when they moved in together it came to light that he found it “rather disgusting, honestly.” It had felt like a slap in the face when he said that to her and for days she wondered how her being turned on by him could be seen as “disgusting.” She had let Josh’s comments and weird behavior make her feel like the oddity.
It wasn’t until Josh left and she had ended up hooking up with an old boyfriend—who really enjoyed how she soaked him and his bed—that she broke out of the mindset that something was wrong with her and began to realize that something had been wrong with Josh.
Alex tried not to beat herself up over her recent sexual escapades—both the successful and the less successful ones. With a cringe she thought of Cody. Cute and nice, but she knew that wasn’t going anywhere. Really, she thought, who is going to call some drunk girl who tried to give you head on her front porch as a way to thank you for a ride home?
That was a real classy move, Alex Barton.
While Alex didn’t agree with Mari that she had been “slutting it up” after breaking up with Josh, Mari’s words did make her wonder about how Heath saw her. Did he have second thoughts about her since she slept with him on the first date? Did that decision put her in a certain category that made it acceptable to treat her like crap?
On the other hand, she thought, didn’t it make just as much sense that she should be the one thinking how she couldn’t see him as relationship material? How she couldn’t take him seriously, considering he was so easy?
What if she put the labels on the men she had slept with and they became “too slutty” for her to want to see again? What if the tables were turned and the woman developed second thoughts about a man’s worthiness if he proved to be willing to sleep with her the first night they met? What if sex on the first date branded a man a slut and not really worthy of anything beyond that? Wow, that would be a switch, she thought. I might like having that kind of power.
After flipping her perspective she felt a little better and realized she had squandered a good half hour with her internal debate about the inequality between men’s and women’s sexual identities. Too much thinking before coffe
e, she thought as she got out of bed and walked to the shower.
* * *
When she dressed for work she picked out a conservative, but attractive, form-fitting dress that she felt and looked good in. Looking good is half the battle, she reminded herself. If I can just pretend I feel confident and together, then eventually I will believe it, she told herself as she plugged her iPhone in. She turned on her disco music station while she finished getting ready for work—once again, Donna Summer to the mood rescue!
Alex parked her car in the county garage and grabbed her bag and coffee. She jaywalked across the street to the county building and by the time she got to the courthouse steps she felt much better, stronger and more confident in her new perspective—not only regarding her actions, but Heath’s as well. She felt empowered as she walked into the new work week.
Her mood quickly soured as she walked through the courthouse doors and saw the exceptionally long line for the metal detector. And on top of that, it was exceptionally slow-moving.
Aww, crap! It must be the month they switch agencies, she thought. The line was always slow for the first few days after a new agency took over security. The officers had to get used to the process and work flow—even if they had been on the same security-duty rotation before. It confounded her how they could never manage to get things flowing smoothly from the get-go.
As Alex complained to herself about the slow line she tried to find her badge in her bag—again. This is the story of my life, she thought, summed up in a single, repetitive act—looking for something you know is there but never being able to find it amongst all the other crap I drag around with me.
She continued to dig in her bag with one hand as the line inched forward. She watched the officers behind the counter explaining the process to some new guy who was trying to run the metal detector. His back was turned to her as he conferred with one of the regular officers who was always on the SVPD security detail. She noticed he had a nice ass, big and round. Good morning, Scottsville!
Alex found her badge. She juggled her bag and coffee as she tried to attach it the badge to her belt. As she put her bag in the bin to roll through the monitor, the new guy turned around. Instead of staring at his ass she was now staring at his big, strong-looking thighs. His pants were snug and she could see the muscle in his legs, his well-packed crotch, a trim waist...her eyes worked their way up his body—across his flat stomach and up to his chest where his name was embroidered on his shirt above his heart. Patrick.
She let her eyes continue to rise and then she was looking into the new guy’s eyes—deep blue eyes that looked up at the same time and locked with hers. Time stopped. Alex was hit with the sudden realization that she actually knew this Officer Patrick quite well. In fact, she had tried to get his dick in her mouth less than 48 hours before.
They stared at each other—both a little embarrassed at first because they got caught checking each other out. And then, before she could stop herself, Alex blurted out, “Patrick? I thought you said your name was Cody!”
“Officer Cody Patrick,” he said. “Still at your service, Ma’am.” He looked at her with a look of bemusement. His blue eyes were full of mischief.
“Oh,” Alex said, feeling stupid as she realized that the name on his uniform was his last name and he had not, in fact, lied to her about his name.
Duh. Patrick is his last name. They put their last name on their shirts, not their first name like a gas station attendant, Alex! she chastised herself.
“Good morning Alex,” he said. “You look well-rested.”
“Uh, yeah, good morning...Officer Patrick,” she replied, blushing slightly. “Glad to see you are back at work.” Between her moment of idiocy and getting caught checking out someone she already knew, she felt really stupid and couldn’t wait to get out of there. She switched her coffee to her other hand and turned to walk away.
“Don’t forget your bag, Ma’am,” Cody said, gesturing to her purse, left in the bin on the conveyor belt. “It cleared the x-ray.”
She grabbed her bag and walked briskly away. Who is he calling ma’am?
Alex ducked into the nearest ladies room, dropped her purse on the counter, and spilled her coffee in the process.
Jesus. Fuck. What the fuck? Fuck.
She leaned on the counter and stared at herself in the mirror. Any semblance of togetherness and professionalism she had mustered up this morning was gone now. Seeing Cody Patrick was the last thing Alex had expected. She would have been less shocked to see Heath standing on the courthouse steps with a giant bouquet of red roses.
She shook her head, as if trying to clear the cobwebs and get the pieces to miraculously fall into place. Freaking Cody Patrick working here. Where I work. What. The. Fuck.
She stood up, looked her reflection in the eyes, smoothed down her skirt, grabbed her bag, and walked out of the bathroom. Anyone looking at her would see a well-dressed, professional woman on her way to work, not the frazzled, heartsick, and confused girl she felt like on the inside.
* * *
Alex walked into her office and toward the reception area where she was greeted by Mari’s big smile and a booming, “Well, good morning sunshine!”
Alex said a curt “Morning,” and gave Mari a look of warning that said do not mess with me today.
“Come on, girl, snap out of your funk,” she said. “It’s Monday and you are at work. What better way to keep your mind off of ol’ what’s-his-name and get your groove back than a full day of head down, nose to the grindstone work?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Mari was right, but Alex didn’t want her to know she was.
“Yeah, maybe my ass. I know I am right. This ain’t my first rodeo, and I know a distracted woman when I see one. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get it together, little lady—good morning, Prosecutor’s Office.” Mari’s lecture was interrupted by the phone.
Alex stopped by her desk before heading to Sheila’s office to check in. With the extra rest from the weekend she felt like she was seeing things more clearly than she had in weeks. She felt a little ashamed when she took in her desk and saw the chaotic state of her work area. She could tell how distracted and unfocused she had been since meeting Heath. Well, unfocused on work, that is.
She felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Heath as she sat down at her desk. She pushed the button on her computer and waited for it to boot up. Her stomach churned and her mind began to wander. She felt restless. She walked back to Sheila’s office but the attorney was nowhere to be found. She took the long way through the office back to reception and asked Mari if she had seen Sheila yet that morning.
“No, she hasn’t come in yet. I heard she was here all weekend though, so maybe she is going to roll in a little late.”
Alex nodded her head and decided to go to the cafeteria and get another coffee since she had spilled her first one. The trip to the cafeteria was as much for the change of scenery as for the caffeine.
As she walked down the hall, she was careful to avoid going by the main entrance and security checkpoint. She wasn’t prepared to see Cody again. She felt so many different emotions—it was hard to sort them out.
When she thought about Heath she felt embarrassed, betrayed, and angry. She still felt a little concern—what if something had happened to him? But that was clearly a second or third-level emotion. Mostly she was embarrassed she’d fallen for his charismatic superman shtick so easily and completely.
And then there was Cody.
The primary thing she felt when she thought of him was shame. If she was honest with herself, she could only remember snippets of Saturday night once the tequila had started flowing. Each time a memory resurfaced or she recalled a tidbit of the evening, she cringed. She saw an image of herself grinding on him while disco songs played on the juke box, or tossing back shots of Patrón at the bar. She also remembered how strong and dense the muscles of his thighs felt under her hands.
She wasn’t sure if she had passed out on th
e way home because she couldn’t really remember getting home. Was I coherent? Did I pass out? Did I snore?
The greatest horror, however, was that she could clearly remember what happened once she got home. How badly she had wanted to make out at her front door. How she went inside to turn off the porch light, kneeled down, and tried to give him head, the bristles of her “Welcome to My Pad” doormat cutting into her knees. She could recall losing her balance and having to grab the doorjamb to hold herself up.
Thank God he was a gentleman. At least there was that, and because of him she didn’t have to hang her head in complete and utter shame, although she was still humiliated. On top of that, she was embarrassed she got caught checking him out this morning before she recognized him. She thought about his tight, round ass. That’s what caught her eye when she first saw him this morning. Not many cops looked good in those heavy wool trousers, and she had to confess to finding him sexy today, too—even in her sober and ashamed state.
Alex grabbed a large black coffee and a huge bottle of water and got in another unusually long line. What is it with all the long lines today? she thought. She was preoccupied, thinking about how her life had all of a sudden gotten so complicated—trying online dating, being ready to give up on it, and then: Heath. Three weeks of whirlwind sex and fun and then, as suddenly as he arrived, he was gone. Damn, this line is moving so slowly. The person behind her was in a hurry too—she felt them bump into her.
“Dehydrated from the weekend?”
Alex turned and was looking squarely at Cody Patrick’s chin—his very leading-man chin. He was taller than she remembered.
“Too much salt?” he asked, smiling mischievously.
“Oh my God,” she said, blushing deeply at his blunt reminder of how Saturday night had gone. He was standing extremely close, practically touching her, and she could feel the heat of him from her knees to her shoulders. She thought she smelled soap.
The Crime of Seduction Page 10
