Page 11 of Pour Decisions
She leans back in her chair, as though she’s rested her case and the jury can now find me guilty and sentence me to death by hanging.
“Okay, I was in a state of undress, as you put it. But I didn’t know who he was before I slept with him.”
“So you did have sexual relations with Riggs Daley?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“But you claim to not know who he was.”
“Right. I didn’t.”
“He gave you a false name?”
“No.”
“I see. So he told you he was Riggs Daley, and you—”
“Riggs,” I interrupt.
“That’s what I said.”
“No, I mean, he just said his name was Riggs. He didn’t give me his last name.”
Somehow she’s able to look down her nose at me again, even though we’re both sitting. It’s remarkable how small I suddenly feel.
“You had sexual relations with a strange man in his hotel room without knowing his last name?” she asks.
When she says it like that, it sounds kind of bad. Not bad, like slutty, but bad like dangerous. Like I’d knowingly put myself in harm's way. Or maybe she means slutty, who knows?
“Yes, but—”
“Tell me, do you read the WCWA’s publications that we send out via email?”
“Of course.”
“So, you read the notification last week of a replacement judge by the name of Riggs Daley stepping in for Marcus Johnson?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“So you don’t read the publications?”
“I do, I just didn’t read that one.”
“Convenient, since what are the chances there would be two men named Riggs staying here at this hotel at the same time as our competition?”
She’s right.
Ohmigod, did I read it and I just don’t remember? Or worse yet, did I read it and then tuck it away in the back of my subconscious, only to have it resurface last night in the form of the nudge I needed to go back to Riggs’ hotel room with him? Did I seduce him to win the contest and I just don’t realize it?
Maybe I really have lost my mind.
Or maybe I have an alternate personality who was trying to set it up so I’d win. Except I remember everything. And don’t the other personalities usually not know what’s going on. Oh, unless I’m the dominant one.
“Morgan?” Barbara interrupts my thoughts, which is probably a good thing, all considered, since I have a tendency to let my imagination go a little wild.
“Yes. Sorry. I spaced out for just a moment.”
“Yes, well. I just wanted to say I wish you success with your future endeavors.”
