Page 22 of Sawyer

I’d driven the twenty minutes home on a Sunday evening to have supper with my father, only to discover we’d crossed wires. He was headed out the door for a business trip.

“Damn it!” he’d said, standing under the front portico with his suitcase. His driver, Curt, waited in a black limo to take him to the airport. “Did we have a plan for tonight?”

“Your secretary scheduled dinner,” I’d reminded him.

“The new girl?” He’d muttered a curse word. “She’s still learning the ropes.”

Curt had taken my father’s suitcase to the trunk, then slammed it shut.

“So…” I’d said. “I’m guessing we’renoton for dinner?”

“Big deal happening right now, Ivy. You understand.”

Alwaysa big deal happening.

“Sure. I understand.”

He’d glanced at his phone. “But I should be free in…two weeks? Three? When do you head to Skagway again?”

Curt opened his door for him.

“Three weeks.”

“Fine. We’ll plan a dinner just before you go. And bring Clark! He’s a great kid!”

I’d stood there under the portico, watching the car drive away. When I couldn’t see the red taillights anymore, I’d gotten back into my own car and driven back to campus.

Feeling a little down, I’d headed to Clark’s apartment instead of my single dorm room. Clark loved to party, but Sunday evenings were quiet at UAF. Maybe we could make some popcorn, turn on a movie, and snuggle. I sure could use a little TLC tonight.

Finding the parking spot next to Clark’s car free, I’d parked there and used the key he gave me to let myself into his apartment. Finding it dark and quiet, I’d assumed that he and his roommates were at the dining hall having supper. I’d turned to leave…when I heard noise coming from the bedroom over my head.Clark’sbedroom. Well, I’d reminded myself, Clark and his roommate, John’s bedroom. Except John spent almost every night with his girlfriend. He was barely ever here.

Creeping up the stairs, I’d tried to come up with alternate reasons for the creaking springs, heavy breathing, grunts, and moans I heard coming from Clark and John’s room.Maybe John was spending a rare night over here? Or maybe John was cheating on his girlfriend with someone else? Or maybe Clark was…My heart had stuttered.Maybe Clark was cheating on—

I flung the bedroom door open.

Me.

My boyfriend of seven months was lying naked on his back, and straddling his waist, fucking him with abandon, was a taut, tiny, very naked freshman named Mandee.

“Clark?”

“What the fuck?” he’d yelled.

“Oh my god!” Mandee had screamed, scrambling off his cock and squatting on the floor, covering her breasts with her hands. “You said…you said she’d be gone!”

“I thought—” Clark had sat bolt upright and covered his glistening, erect penis with a sheet. “Babe, I thought you had dinner with your dad!”

I stared at my boyfriend, flicked my eyes to Mandee, and then back to Clark.

“He canceled.”

Mandee was scrambling for her underwear and bra, which had been discarded on the floor. I leaned down to pick up her dress and offered it to her.

“Sorry, Ivy,” she’d whispered, grabbing the dress, sidestepping past me, and rushing down the stairs.

I’d crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for Clark to say something, but he stared back at me, his cheeks bright red, but his expression defiant.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he’d finally muttered.

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