by Alexa Day
“Actually, I was thinking we could do it here. At my place.”
“Right.” She chuckled. “And you mean the interview, and not the threesome.”
John laughed in spite of himself. “That’s right.”
“You sure? I still think it’s a good opportunity. You know, scientifically.”
He could imagine her teasing smile. And then he imagined Tal, right there, watching her as she teased her friend about a threesome he’d never have.
Well, at least he wasn’t freaked out about the audit anymore.
“No threesome. So do you want to meet at my place?”
“Sure. Same time and all?”
“Same time.”
“Cool. I’ll be there. Night.”
* * * * *
What were they doing?
Very much awake in bed, as he was sure Tal and Grace were, John stared at the shadows on his ceiling. His thoughts had organized themselves into a neat little circle, starting with the audit committee, moving through the risk management analysis of his arrangement with Grace and finally winding up with what she and Tal might be up to. The third leg of his mental relay race was the longest, now that his mind had seized the image of the two of them putting on their live sex show in front of Tal’s office window. The idea of watching them excited him with its subversive novelty.
No holds barred. No questions asked.
John turned over onto his side. No, no, no. That was definitely crossing a line.
So what were they doing now?
John flung off the covers and stomped into his kitchen for a glass of ice. He sucked a slim cube into his mouth and crushed it between his teeth. Much better. He started on another one as he sat on his couch.
Damn Neil. If it hadn’t been for him spreading rumors about an audit, he’d probably be asleep by now. John chewed the ice cube until nothing was left. Good thing Grace hadn’t given him her usual hug. Nosy jackass would have had a field day with that.
He raised the glass to his lips and shook another ice cube into his mouth. He slid it back and forth with his tongue, hoping the chill would distract him from the holding pattern of his thoughts. Instead the combination of the cold and the obstruction in his mouth pushed his mind back toward Grace.
She’d thought the Impulse wasn’t working when she took Tal into her mouth. It had taken its time, he supposed, especially after working so quickly the first time. It definitely hadn’t been an hour from Bank to Tal’s place, if John was right about where Tal lived. So what had she done differently?
He swallowed what remained of the ice. Of course.
He took the rest of the ice to the bedroom and sat on the bed. Eager to share his discovery with Grace, he reached blindly toward the nightstand for his BlackBerry. The screen came to life when he thumbed the center button. He pulled up the string of his text messages with Grace and typed, Figured out why pills were slow.
He stopped without sending the message and stared at the screen until it faded to black. If he was right, he could just tell her to make a couple of changes to her routine with Tal and then wait to hear how it went. Or he could tell her to make a couple of changes to her routine and watch to see how it went.
She’d invited him to join them, right? No, she’d dared him to join them. They probably never thought he’d take them up on their little dare, much less have ideas about how to heighten the effectiveness of the pills.
He pressed the center button again to reawaken the screen and then deleted the text he’d started. Then before he could start thinking again, he typed, Think I know why pills were slow but need to be sure. Up for in-person observation as we discussed. You pick time and place.
He pressed the button to send the message and hung on to the BlackBerry long enough for the screen to go dark again. After a few minutes of staring at it in his hand as if it were about to break into song, he put it back on the nightstand.
What was he doing?
You’re experimenting.
He dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling again. He’d have to wait until morning. No way she’d be looking at her phone at this hour.
So what were they doing—
The BlackBerry interrupted the spiral of his thoughts with a quiet beep. From the bed, he watched the little red light blinking in the dark. Already? Maybe she had been looking at her phone.
He reached for the handheld and called up his message.
It’s on. Meet u at Tal’s Friday nite. Txt u 2moro with time.
He returned the BlackBerry to its place on the nightstand. This was crazy. Maybe the craziest thing he’d ever done.
But when he lay down again, he closed his eyes with a smile on his face.
Chapter Six
John leaned back to search for the street number over Tal’s doorway. At least he thought it was Tal’s. Across the street, a building whose coat of mustard-yellow paint did little to hide its industrial appearance proclaimed itself 98 in garish red. That made this 99, he supposed, but nothing on his side of the street confirmed that this was his destination.
Damn stupid way to run a business.
He peered through the window into the darkness inside and made out angular shapes. It looked like a welder’s shop.
More like a chop shop. A legitimate business has a street number over the door.
For a moment, he contemplated banging on the metal door with his open palm. Then he saw the little button centered in a metal faceplate next to the door. All it needed was a little hand-lettered sign. Deliveries At Rear Entrance Only.
John pressed the button. The buzzer that echoed inside seemed loud even on this side of the bomb-shelter-style door. He smiled to himself. The notion that less was more had evidently never occurred to Tal.
He shifted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder. Distant voices rose in laughter from the dark across the street. The strip of restaurants he’d passed earlier sounded much farther away than just a couple of blocks.
The giant door slid open with a noise like a subway train. Grace stood grinning on the other side, her hair tied down with a pink bandana. “Hey there. Come on in.”
He entered the cavernous space and checked the place out while Grace shut the door behind them. Two treadmills faced the enormous windows. Nothing else in the jungle of metal bars and burgundy leather demanded electricity. Like a boxer’s gymnasium, Tal’s place was stocked with iron plates and barbells. Ceiling fans stirred the air, keeping the steamy heat from turning oppressive. A smooth smell that reminded him of his mechanic’s waiting room mingled with the fragrance of cinnamon.
“Are you baking?” he asked.
“No. That’s a candle.” She chuckled. “I just like to set the mood a little when I’m here. This isn’t the most feminine place in the world.”
He turned his face up into the warm breeze coming from the ceiling fans. “Quite a setup he has here.”
“Isn’t it? He built this up from nothing.” She ran her fingertips over one end of a bar suspended over one of the benches, and he imagined Tal spotting her here, standing behind her and counting as she lifted. “All this was just empty warehouse when he started.”
John whistled, impressed. Maybe pharmaceutical research was the wrong line of work.
“Yeah. Come on, let’s go upstairs. Tal’s on the phone.” She led him on a winding path among the machines toward the back, where a spiral staircase rose to the loft. Next to it, light from a partially open door caught John’s eye. Beyond the doorway, he made out some of the office he’d seen so often in his mind. John craned to see what else was back there, maybe catch a glimpse of Tal, but Grace tugged at his sleeve. “Come on. No sightseeing.”
Cool sweat slid down the back of his neck in spite of the heat. Was he really going through with this? He wasn’t even sure of what this was yet.
Then Grace took his hand and led him up the stairs, and if the die had not been cast before, it was now.
“So I didn’t take the pill yet,” she said, p
receding him into the loft, a far less utilitarian space than the one they’d just left. “Just like you texted.”
“Oh good.” John paused at the top of the steps, next to the foot of the bed. Tal lived in a typical bachelor pad, where he and whatever guests he entertained would encounter the bed immediately upon arrival. John followed Grace into a small dining area—not that his own was any bigger—with a table just large enough for a game of cards or dinner for two. At the edge of the loft was a leather sectional, just the sort of thing he’d expected Tal to have, in front of a TV the size of a movie screen.
“Did you bring replacements or something?” She opened Tal’s refrigerator and surveyed its contents.
“No, the pills are fine. I just have a theory.”
“A theory, huh?” She turned to him. “Want a drink?”
He did. Badly. He imagined Tal kept imported beer in the fridge, but what he really wanted was probably in one of those cabinets.
“I know you’re on duty,” Grace said. “Just a little drink?”
“No, that’s okay.” The thought of Tal finding him upstairs, drinking his liquor in his kitchen when they hadn’t yet been introduced, bugged him a little. Besides, he wasn’t settling in for a show. He was gathering data, which meant he had to be as lucid as possible.
His gut twisted into an icy knot. Lucidity felt far, far away and they weren’t really doing anything yet. Unable to settle on something to do with his hands, he pushed his glasses up.
Grace reached for his messenger bag. “At least you can take your coat off.” She carried his bag to one of the dining chairs while he took off his coat.
They sat across the table from each other and spent a few moments not making eye contact before he looked around the loft’s compact space. He hoped to find something to make small talk about, but before he could ask how on earth Tal managed to keep such an enormous building this warm, she broke the silence.
“Are you still okay with this?”
He searched her expression for hope or hesitation but found only curiosity.
“Yeah.” Hell of a time to ask. “Yeah, of course.”
“Because I can tell him your job called.”
That made more sense. Apparently he hadn’t been expected to rise to the challenge, and now that he had, it was time to start protecting his delicate sensitivities. “I’m fine,” he said. “Are you okay with this?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the stairs before she answered. “Sure, I’m fine.”
He waited for her to turn back to him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She offered him the broad grin he was used to seeing. “It’s all right.”
He nodded and returned her smile, hoping to reassure her without seeming too eager.
“So why did you want me to hold off on taking the pill?” she asked.
“I told you, I have a theory.”
“You don’t want to share?” Her teasing eased the tension in his shoulders. Everything really would be fine now, wouldn’t it?
“I can’t, really. Your knowing about it might skew the results.” He sat back in the chair. “You’ll see once it happens.”
“A secret?”
Her voice transformed his prudent experimental decision into something scandalous. Maybe even seductive. The familiar pinch of need—the desire for more limbic chaos in his all too orderly life—gave way to something that felt dark and dangerous, the edge of an abyss that might go on for miles.
He swallowed and rested his chin on one hand. “A secret. Don’t I get to have a secret?”
“Just seems a little…I don’t know.” She bit her lip and he watched greedily as she searched for the right word, waiting when ordinarily he would happily have supplied it for her. “Risky.”
He rested his hand on hers. “Grace.” She met his gaze and he removed his glasses. “I’d never let anything happen to you. Don’t you know that?”
She was quiet for a moment, watching him. Without his glasses, he couldn’t determine whether she was blushing, but her hand shifted beneath his, and warm, strong fingers tightened around his.
“Mighty quiet up there. Y’all start without me?”
“There he is.” Grace rose to greet Tal as he emerged from the stairs. “Now how could we start without you?”
When he stood and put his glasses back on, John realized that, clichéd though it might have been, he’d thought Tal would be bigger.
In fairness, Grace had said he was built like a football player. The man who was now sizing him up was simply not that big, but he did look like someone who worked out for a living. He had on a pair of those nylon pants that basketball players wore and a t-shirt with the barely legible words “Virginia Baseball” stretched across his chest.
Tal extended a tanned hand and introduced himself. “Tal Crusoe.”
“John March.” John shook hands with him, half-expecting Tal to crush him in the typical jock’s show of dominance. Instead he got the greeting Tal might have offered a client or a vendor, two firm pumps before release.
“Good to meet you finally.” Tal’s arm slid around Grace’s shoulders. “You have any trouble finding the place?”
He considered mentioning the absence of street numbers. “Nope. I was telling Grace what an impressive place you have.”
Tal grinned. “Thanks.” He let go of Grace and headed past John into the kitchen. “Want a beer or something?”
“No, thanks. Some water would be nice.”
“Just water?”
“Yeah. Lots of ice.” John followed Grace as she went back to the bed but could not bring himself to sit on it with her. Instead he paced awkwardly near the footboard and watched his host at work in the kitchen.
From behind the freezer door, Tal asked, “So is it true that men can’t use these pills?”
Grace snickered quietly and shook her head.
“It’s not like they’ll hurt you,” John said. “I just wonder how much good they’re going to do for you. Guys don’t really need anything to suppress oxytocin.”
Grace glanced conspiratorially at John. “I told him all this already.”
Tal let the freezer door fall closed and spared them a glance as he cracked ice into two tall glasses. “I just want to hear that for myself.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say.”
John tucked his hands into his pockets. “Actually, Tal, the latest research shows that oxytocin in men improves sexual performance.”
Tal regarded John with wide eyes. “Really?” He leaned against the sink and grinned. “Any word on an…oxytocin booster?”
John returned his smile. “If this works out, I imagine we’ll start looking into a booster for men next.”
Tal chuckled as he filled the glasses from the tap. “How’d you come up with the idea for this stuff anyway?” He brought one to John before he pulled out a dining chair for himself.
“Tal, he didn’t come here to explain all that.” Grace sounded like a parent whose child was going through the Why Phase.
Tal raised a placating hand, and his voice went firm, as if he were consciously marking the turn to something more business and less personal. “I know. I know what he came here for.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. “I just like to know a little something about what I’m doing before I start doing it.”
John rested his hip against the footboard. “Well, the long story goes like this. Impulse is the by-product of another one of our products, an oxytocin suppressant that prevents premature labor contractions. While the R&D team was trying to perfect that, they ran across this by accident. They were just going to let it go.”
“That where you come in?” Tal raised an eyebrow, more interested than skeptical, before drinking some of the ice water.
“Yeah. I know men can have sex for the pure recreational pleasure of it. I know women have a harder time keeping their emotions out of it. It all comes from this one difference.” John straig
htened. “I don’t think it’s fair. Now it’s preventable.” He shrugged. “That’s all. It’s nothing complicated.”
He met Tal’s gaze, playing chicken in the silence long enough for the radiators to come back on.
“You ever do anything like this before?” Tal might have been asking about a new restaurant or an especially difficult hole on a golf course.
John shook his head slowly. “No.”
Tal swirled the ice and water together in his glass, still watching John. “And you just want to watch. Right?”
He made it sound…dirty. John had less of a problem with that than he’d expected.
“That’s right,” he answered.
Tal put his glass on the table before he stood. “Okay. Let’s get started.”
Something icy and viscous churned in John’s gut. His fingers tightened around the glass of water as if just touching it would settle his nerves.
Grace whispered his name. “Should I take it now?”
He stared at her for a moment before making the connection. “Not yet. I’ll let you know when.” His stomach came to rest and he smiled. “Don’t worry.”
“Bed’s okay?” Tal took his glass from the table and emptied it into the sink before refilling his ice tray.
“Sure.” As if he knew the place well enough to choose another spot.
Tal put the ice tray back into the freezer. “Because we can be somewhere else if you want.” The little grin on his face said either that he thought John would back down any second or that he was looking forward to putting on a good show. John couldn’t decide which it was.
Grace glared at Tal as if he were a willful child. John leaned over and patted her shoulder. “Bed’s fine.”
“What about you?” Tal asked.
“How about the table?” Grace suggested. “There’s space for you to take notes over there.”
John went back to the dining table and sat. He did have enough room to spread out and the bed didn’t seem too far away. Tal sat next to Grace on the bed and waved. “How’s that?” he asked.
