The following day, my anxiety hadn't subsided. If I pushed myself to have sex with her and later regretted it, I'd be disappointing myself, and if I didn't have sex, I would disappoint her. I had half made up my mind to tell her I wasn't ready when I felt a weird pinching in my lower stomach. It took me only a moment to realize what it was.
I got up and went to the bathroom and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it was exactly what I thought it was. I'd gotten my period, and thus relieved all the pressure I'd put on myself. It was the act of God I'd been hoping for, in a way. All my tension faded and the rest of the day passed quickly. Somehow the discomfort of cramps and bloating weren't as uncomfortable as they usually were.
There was only one thing I had to do to feel calm. I called Faye to warn her that our evening wouldn't be what she was expecting.
"I have bad news," I said.
"Oh?"
"I just got my period," I mumbled.
There was a pause before she said, "Oh." There was an even longer pause before she said, "I mean… I don't mind."
Feeling my anxiety spike, I said, "I don't want our first time to look like a crime scene…"
Faye let out a quiet giggle. "That's fine. We'll just go out to dinner and then we can snuggle and watch a movie. Sound okay?"
Sighing in relief, I said with total honesty, "That sounds perfect."
"Okay," Faye hummed. "You know I love spending time with you no matter what."
My anxiety had made me temporarily forget that this wasn't just about us having sex. She liked me even when all my clothes were on.
When I hung up, I felt like my dynamic with Faye returned to normal. After work I went home and prepared for our date like usual. I put on an outfit that was nice enough for whatever restaurant she had picked, but comfortable enough for couch snuggling afterwards.
Faye looked equally comfortable when she came to pick me up. As we ate, we talked and stole bites off each other's plates. She made me laugh like usual and I was settled back into feeling good around her. I remembered that I liked dating her so much.
"I'm sorry our plans for this evening were foiled," I said.
"It's okay," Faye said. "It'll happen."
I nodded, but still felt guilty in a way. "I just feel bad about making you wait… It's like one thing after another…"
Faye looked at me with an unreadable expression for a moment before she took a breath and said, "You know how wine tasters sample wine, Riley?"
Confused about her change of subject, I shook my head.
"When you're sampling wine, you don't just dive into it. First, you make sure your palate is cleansed. Then you let the wine aerate for a while, let it release its full flavor. Then you study the hue. Smell the bouquet. You swirl it in your glass as you search for hints to its subtle flavors. Could it be citrus, oak, chocolate, floral? A combination? You take it in as a multi-sensory experience, because each vintage is one of a kind. And then, once you've gotten to know it for a while, contemplated what makes it unique, taken time to appreciate it, then you drink it." She paused, then gave me a shy smile as she slid her hand across the table, reaching for mine. "Riley, you are a very special wine. Consuming you isn't the point."
I blushed from my neck to the tips of my ears.
"Though I have to admit, you do look edible tonight," she added with a mock guilty expression as she eyed my cleavage.
As the last of my anxiety left my body, I wanted to lean across the table and kiss her, but I settled for taking her hand and holding it. Grinning, she squeezed my hand and took a sip of her wine.
As we continued eating, I became aware of a woman a few tables away who was staring at me. She was middle-aged with wavy red hair and a contemptuous look on her face. She narrowed her eyes between bites of her salad, rarely engaging with the person whose back was to me at her table. I grew uncomfortable, wondering if she was glaring at Faye and me because we were holding holds. It may have just been a stare, but it felt threatening. It made my food taste colder.
I was about to say something to Faye when she let go of my hand, set her napkin on the table, and said she'd be right back. She got up and headed toward the bathroom. I used the opportunity to look over at the staring woman and try to figure out what her deal was. Did she know me from somewhere?
To my surprise, the woman got up and walked toward me. I tensed, wondering what she was going to say. But instead of continuing her death glare, she gave me a bright smile, as though she were greeting a friend.
"Hi," she said. "I'm sorry I've been looking at you funny all night. I wasn't sure who you were."
"Oh. Uh, I'm Riley."
"Hi, Riley," the woman said. Her tone grew saccharine as she extended her hand to me. Perplexed, I shook it.
"I just wanted you to know that your date here — she is your date, right?" the woman asked, gesturing toward Faye's empty chair.
Nervous but brave, I nodded.
"Yeah..." the woman said, her tone growing apologetic. "Watch out for her. She's a snake in the grass who will play you like a hand of cards."
She kept her smile static before she turned and walked back to her seat, picked up her purse, and left the restaurant.
I was stunned. Who was that woman and why did she think it was her business to inform me that Faye would "play me like a hand of cards"? I sat there frowning into half of my pasta until Faye came back.
"Hey," she chirped, picking up her napkin and settling back into her seat. "You have to check out the bathroom before we go, it has the coolest sink ever."
"Oh?" I asked, trying not to sound alarmed.
Faye smiled and finished the final bites of her meal.
I was suddenly suspicious of her. She had seemed too good to be true at first, and now someone had told me she was.
I didn't realize how awkward I must have looked until Faye said something.
"Are you okay?" she asked, tilting her head around to try to make eye contact. "You look like you got spooked."
Squirming, I looked around for an excuse. "I'm fine."
"Okay..." Faye said, clearly skeptical. "Do you want dessert?"
I shook my head. What did that strange woman mean? Did she mean Faye would cheat? Use me for something? Lie? Steal? Do what Vance had done?
"Okay..." Faye said, sounding concerned and a bit upset. "Do you want to come over for a drink? We could make it cocoa if you're not feeling well. I have brownie mix too, if that sounds good."
I shook my head again. "I think... I think I want to go home," I mumbled.
As I thought about the comforts of home, I realized that what I wanted was to talk to Justine. She'd help me figure out what to do.
"Okay," Faye said, looking around the restaurant. "Let me flag down the waiter."
Luckily our waiter arrived at that precise minute and Faye fished out her credit card on the spot. I didn't even argue with her paying for the meal because I just wanted it to be over so I could go home.
Faye turned back to me. "Doing anything fun tomorrow?"
In truth, I had been planning to spend time with her, but now I didn't know. “Justine and I were going to do something tomorrow night," I mumbled, hoping Faye would buy it.
She nodded and said, "She's a good friend."
"She is," I agreed. I wanted Justine to be there right then to diffuse the uncomfortable tension that was rising.
The waiter brought the bill holder back, and Faye signed the check before picking up her purse. She held out her arm to me as we left the restaurant, and I took it for as long as was necessary to be polite.
We got into the car, and she quietly asked me if I wanted to choose the music. I turned the radio to a rap station and turned the volume up. We didn't usually put on music in the car because we would just talk and sometimes miss our turns because we were giggling over nothing. But now I wanted music loud enough that we wouldn't have to talk.
After a few seconds of heavy beats Faye glanced at me with a funny expression on her face, as
if to say, Since when do you listen to rap? I glanced away and bobbed my head.
When we got a few blocks away from my house, Faye turned the music down until the beat was muted.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said.
Faye frowned and kept driving. Then she took a sharp breath and said, hesitant, "Did something happen while I was in the bathroom?"
I bit my lips. I didn't know what to say.
Faye added, as though in apology, "I only ask because you looked uncomfortable when I got back to the table."
I took a deep breath, wishing we had made it just two blocks further so I could give a short answer and fly up into the refuge of my house.
I must have paused for too long again, because Faye said, "I'll take that as a yes."
Now I was cornered.
"Riley, this is driving me nuts, just tell me."
Her sudden demand made me cave, and I mumbled, "Someone came up to our table and ruined the evening for me."
At this point Faye was pulling up in front of my house.
"Like a homophobic slur or something?"
"No..."
At this point Faye was so frustrated, she lifted her hands off the wheel and said, "Riley, whatever it was, just spit it out!"
Scared by her anger, I blurted, "She said you're a snake in the grass who will play me like a hand of cards!"
Faye's foot slammed on the brake and we lurched to a stop at the curb. Her head jerked toward me and her eyes went wide. "She used those words?"
Feeling heat creep up my face, I nodded and looked down at my shoes.
"Did she have red hair?" Faye asked.
I nodded again.
Faye's rigid shoulders deflated as she let out a heavy sigh. "Fuck..."
There was a long period of silence as she looked at the cars parked across the street. She made no move to shut off the engine like she usually did so we could make out. Then she turned back to me and said, "Will you give me a chance to explain why someone would say that about me?"
She was so agitated, I was getting anxious. The energy in the car was so stifling, I wanted to get out, but I couldn't do that when Faye was so worked up. So I nodded.
"Okay - okay. Do you want to talk here? In your place? At mine?"
Not wanting to enter into a less escapable situation than we were in, I said, "We can talk here."
"Right," Faye said, her breathing unsteady as she turned off the car. "Okay."
She leaned back in her seat, looking at the roof of the car as though she were overwhelmed at the prospect of telling me whatever she had to tell me.
"I'm not proud of this, okay?"
It wasn't a promising start to a story.
Faye took a deep breath and placed her left hand at the bottom of the steering wheel, avoiding looking at me.
"When I finished journalism school, I moved to LA to do an internship with the Times. I had big aspirations for journalistic fame."
I sat and listened, watching as she surrendered herself to telling me the truth.
"I needed something to pay the bills and the Times internship paid crap, so I adopted an alias and started moonlighting at a trashy magazine. Over the course of the year I was there, I ran into a lot of young celebrities on assignments. I got friendly with a few of them. And I got more than friendly with one of them."
Faye glanced at me nervously. "You've probably heard of her. Callie Wilson?"
My jaw dropped. Faye had dated an established Hollywood starlet. "You dated Callie Wilson?" I asked, disbelieving.
Then I thought about the logistics of that, wondering how I hadn't known that Callie Wilson dated girls. I always saw her on the covers of tabloids with guys.
Faye gave a nervous chuckle looked into her lap. "For six months."
There was a pause before I muttered, "I can't compete with movie stars."
Faye gave another nervous laugh and shook her head, "Oh, you can..."
She trailed off and I got the impression that Callie and Faye hadn't ended their relationship on good terms.
"Anyway, things got weird, and I had an opportunity to get in with one of the execs at the magazine who had connections to more notable publications. I shouldn't have taken that opportunity, but... I did."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
Faye took a quick breath through her nose and glanced up at me, nervous and ashamed. "I outed Callie in hopes that I'd get a good job out of the scoop.”
Suddenly realizing why Faye was so ashamed, I pulled back.
“That woman that you talked to tonight was her assistant at the time. She always mixed her metaphors like that."
She had vindictively outed someone for personal gain, knowing it could destroy Callie's career. She had done to her ex the exact same thing her college roommate had done to her.
Was she so ambitious that she was willing to throw other people under the bus to clear a path for herself? Was there no respect for the intimacy she shared with others?
Would she betray me the way she'd betrayed Callie?
"How could you do that?" I gasped.
Faye put her hands to her head to block out her shame. "I don't know," she winced. "I know what I did was awful. And I do regret it. Kind of."
"Kind of?" I asked, incredulous.
Faye held up her hands. "Sometimes you have to play dirty to get what you want, and I love my job."
My mind flashed back to the flowers she'd sent me and I wondered if she'd sent them knowing Turner would open the card.
Faye was exactly what the woman at dinner had said she was. I had been right to be cautious.
I looked her right in the eye and said, "What games would you play to get me, assuming that's something you want?"
Faye's face fell and she looked like I'd kicked her in the shins. "None," she said, her voice soft and hurt. "I'm not playing any games with you."
Needing to further justify my reaction to what she had told me, I put my hand on the door handle. "Would you out me to get a raise?"
"No!" Faye said, as though the thought appalled her. "Riley, I would never sell you out. Callie was just - Callie was different."
"How?" I demanded, reinforcing my grip on the door handle. "She and I are both human beings who put trust in you."
Faye looked at me, wavering for a moment until I saw tears glistening in her eyes. It felt manipulative.
"She cheated on me."
"So that makes it okay to potentially ruin her career?"
"I told you I wasn't proud of it," she whispered.
"That doesn't take away what you did."
"I know," Faye said, whining as she fought back her tears. "Riley, please don't hate me."
She looked so pitiful and scared. I didn't want to be kind to her, but I didn't want to be cruel either. "I don't hate you," I said, dropping my voice to a murmur. "But I need some time."
Faye looked heartbroken as she mumbled, "Okay."
I didn't look back as I got out of the car, closed the door, and made my way up to my apartment.
When I got to work, Callie was putting on her makeup in the nude. She looked cute today, so I told her as much.
"You're looking great lately," I said. "A lot of definition in your abs." I smiled and opened my locker.
"Thanks!" Callie chirped. "How are you feeling?"
"Better,” I said, willing it to be true.
"Good," Callie cooed. Then she studied me for a moment before taking a step toward me and murmuring, "If you weren't, I'd say we could help each other out."
I looked up and she quirked her eyebrow in an expression that could only mean one thing.
Caught off guard, I focused back on the mirror. Was Callie making a pass at me? We played at it all the time, but it hadn't occurred to me that she was serious.
But she wasn't kidding now. She was offering sex that wasn't for public consumption.
I knew Callie had dated girls before, but I had never considered that she might be in
terested in me. Or maybe she was just offering sex à la carte. Regardless, I was on higher alert. We were expected to stay in the Box together for four hours, save for our scheduled breaks, and we were expected to interact for the customers.
I grew uncomfortable as I dabbed stain on my lips. Feeling the silence of the dressing room start to crush me, I took a breath and said, "It's probably best not to dip our tassels in the company pink, you know?"
Realizing I was rejecting her, Callie shook herself. "Yeah. It was just a thought."
Sad that I had had to reject her in the first place, I gave her a reassuring smile. I felt like I needed to offer more explanation. Because Callie and Faye didn't know each other and I was desperate to tell someone how bad I had it for Faye, I said, "I'm kind of hung up on someone else." I gave her a playful wink and began putting on my eyeliner.
Callie picked up her playful energy. "Fair enough. Hey, whatever you do, don't play Robin Thicke in the Box today, okay?"
"No problem," I said.
The strange interaction with Callie made my shift seem longer. For the thousandth time, I was annoyed that the Box had no clock. The only way we could keep track of time was the appearance of new dancers in our midst and the way we swapped out for breaks every ten minutes. The Box had a weird timelessness to it that made time feel like time stretched on forever.
By the time my shift was done, I was tired and sweaty and ready to eat a big lunch. As I showered and put on my street clothes, I thought about why Callie had made a pass at me. Was it because I flirted unintentionally? Was it because of the nature of our work? Or was it just something that would have happened regardless of where we were and what we were doing?
Whatever the reason, it was a wakeup call that I needed to be firmer with my boundaries in all my relationships. It was easy to resolve to ask Justine to vacuum more often and to steer conversations with Kimi away from my work, but it was harder to distance myself from Faye. She had done nothing wrong, and from an objective perspective, neither had I. She'd been sweet and gentle with me, and I didn't want any of that to change. But I knew, for the sake of my emotional well-being, that I needed to back away from her.
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