Page 24 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“I know. Remember that I met him at the hospital. I know everything about him.”

“So, you know he can’t...do that...and you still want something with him?”

Even redder than she was just seconds before, she nods.

“Not everything in this life has to be conventional sex.”

Well, well, well, so much for her asexuality.

“Oh no?” I ask now that I see she’s not so innocent.

“On a few occasions, I’ve seen him with his girlfriends and his friends in his office or in the room next to his office,” she whispers. “That same room where the three of you were today. I know exactly what goes on in there.”

“You do?”

Graciela nods.

Now I’m the one who’s as red as a tomato, and I understand the look of reproach on her face.

“God, Dexter is so hot...so exciting!”

I laugh with incredulity, and the poor woman recoils, embarrassed.

“Please...please...What am I saying? Why am I telling you this?” she says. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”

She’s horrified and covers her face with her hands.

“It’s OK, Graciela. It’s OK,” I say, feeling sorry for her. Still, I want to know what she knows.

“And what do you think of the games Dexter plays with his friends?”

Graciela sighs, smiles, and whispers, “Very kinky, very exciting.”

So much for our Sweet Miss Innocent. Who would’ve thunk it?

“Have you ever played the same kind of games?” She’s nervous and sighs and so I try to help her trust me with her confidences.

“I have, although if you ever told anyone I said so, I’d deny it. What about you?”

Surprised, she blinks a few times. “After I saw what he does, I did some research, and I met up with some people with whom I play and fantasize that it’s him,” she says. “But I’ve never dared with Dexter.”

“But would you dare?”

She nods without hesitation.

“Don’t worry. You’ve entrusted me with a secret, and I’m not going to reveal it,” I say. “I hope you’ll keep mine too.”

“Have no doubt about that, Judith.”

“Now if you like Dexter,” I say, “you need to do something to get his attention.”

“I’ve done everything, but he doesn’t notice me.”

“Maybe if you dress differently, that would change,” I say, afraid I might have offended her. “Don’t you think?”

She touches the bun on her head.

“If I have to look like those ridiculous girlfriends of his for him to notice me, forget it!”

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