Page 50 of Watch Me

One word, one syllable… and of course it’s Nick. That voice is etched into my memory, I only need one note to recognize it. And yet it is the bull, too. It was the same voice all along.

It was loud in there, I tell myself. The mask covered my ears. But no matter how many excuses I make, my mind is still reeling. How could I not have noticed?

“I can’t shake this guilt, though,” says the man who is so obviously Nick, I have to cover my mouth just to keep from screaming. “Guilt about betraying her, but guilt over how good it felt, too. How easy it was to do it.”

“Oh, God,” says David, in a voice so laden with sarcasm I can almost hear his eyes rolling. “I know I don’t need to tell you that you need to let that go. Here.” He steps forward, and my skin gets clammy with fear. If he walks around the desk, he’ll see me, and then what? As if this isn’t humiliating enough, the revelation and confrontation with Nick will add unspeakable layers of embarrassment to this night. But he doesn’t come around. His footsteps take him to the side of the room, to his filing cabinet, and I hear a metallic clamor as he pulls a drawer open.

“Thanks,” says Nick. “I’ll look this over tonight.”

“Please don’t,” says David. “Please stay and fuck some more, or get fucked up, or at least sleep if you insist on going home.”

Nick scoffs. “Asshole,” he says to David, with a smile in his tone.

David laughs as their footsteps recede, and as the door creaks open and then closes, relief tumbles over me like an avalanche. I fall back against the inside of the desk and let myself exhale heavily.

Holy shit.

That was close.

In a second, the panic sets in again. I need to get out of here before I have another close call. I grab my bag and rush down the corridor to the fire exit, and when the exterior door clicks shut behind me, I slump my shoulders and breathe in the night air like I’ve just escaped a burning building.

NICK

AS FAR AS I can tell, David has only hired very beautiful people to work at the Ball & Chain. Following the woman escorting me to his office, I make the effort to check out her ass—the way I might have only a year ago—but it doesn’t work. While I can acknowledge that it is pleasingly proportioned, I feel nothing. Zip. I’ve been like this for the past six months, with the only notable exception being last night.

Last night… was out of this world.

From the moment I saw the hooded girl at the bar, I was drawn to her as if by a magnetic force. I’ve been to Locked & Loaded many times, and have had previous sexual experiences there, but this time, I had told David I would be attending purely in a professional capacity. I intended to look at the event critically, to see where improvements could be made and what cost efficiencies could be achieved. It has been six long months of celibacy, and I was beginning to think I might never regain my former vigor. That after Zoë, no one could make me feel anything.

But the girl in the mask had a beguiling, irresistible energy. When I followed her through the club to the viewing rooms at the back, it was just out of curiosity, to see where she would go, what she would look at. What would be interesting to her. But one thing led to the next… I’m grateful I was able to let go of my heartbreak long enough to have an absolutely unmatched sexual experience.

If there’s one girl out there who could summon my interest again, then surely there will be others.

I’ll always cherish what Zoë and I had, but I can’t spend my life hung up on someone I just can’t have, or I’ll spend my life alone. I need to be able to move on. Last night helped me feel that it’s possible. That I just needed time.

And maybe an unbelievably hot body in a fetish mask with a willingness to do anything.

The woman knocks on David’s door as a courtesy, then opens it, smiling as she lets me pass through.

“Hey,” says David, looking grim.

He’s slouched over his desk, resting his forehead in one hand, his short red hair in uncharacteristic disorder. When he lifts his face to me, he looks wan—pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

It’s nearly five o’clock in the afternoon, but Locked & Loaded is a blow-out evening, so it’s normal for David to look a little rough the next day. I’m feeling a little rough, myself. Somehow, after the incredible experience we had in the peep show room, I still managed to go home and stay up until four a.m. looking at David’s financial statements. It was probably made a little easier because of my jet lag. My body has no fucking idea what time it is, but David is clearly off his sleep cycle.

“Ugh.” He picks up the handset to his desk phone and presses a button. “Carolyn? Can you bring a bottle of whiskey in here and two glasses?”

I pull the financial statements out of my briefcase and tap the edges of the paper stack against the desk to straighten it. It’s riddled with post-it notes and highlighted sections. Things I hope to go over today, as soon as possible, so David and I can continue to move forward on the deal we’re brokering… to make me a part-owner in the Ball & Chain.

The bartender arrives carrying a bottle of Glenfiddich and two lowball glasses on a tray. She places a glass in front of each of us and fills David’s. I place a hand over mine as she moves the bottle towards it, saying, “No, thanks,” but David shakes his head.

“Take it. You’re going to need it, trust me.”

The bartender raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug, moving my hand so she can fill the glass. It’s best not to argue with David sometimes. I can just not drink it.

“Your financials are good,” I say after she leaves the room. “Very good.”

But David doesn’t look pleased at all. “Yeah,” he says tightly, running a hand through his mussed hair. “I know.”

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