Suzanne tried to suppress a smile, probably thinking about what she'd seen in their pool, about us matching up just fine, physically.
I said, “Sex is not a relationship.”
Simon stirred the cream and sugar into his coffee. “With or without money, people still have their issues. In fact, rich guys like Luthor are often starved for affection. They grow up with paid caregivers, like nannies and whatnot, and their parents are too busy building an empire or enjoying their lifestyle to give them the attention they crave.”
“He had a brother who died when he was young.”
Simon took a deep breath. “He's a decent guy, but I'm not surprised to hear that. He seems kind of ...”
He glanced over to his wife.
“Vulnerable,” Suzanne said.
I started to laugh. “Vulnerable? Please!” I kept laughing, until the idea sunk in.
When I was growing up, my mother and I didn't have a lot of money, which had seemed like a hardship at the time. When Halloween came around, the other kids at school got purchased costumes, whereas I'd wear some strange get-up my mother and I had fashioned from old clothes and props purchased at a thrift store. We had so much fun picking things out. One year, we found an old wedding dress, covered in tacky lace, and dyed it black in the bath tub for a witch costume. The different fabrics hadn't taken all the dye, and parts of the dress were purple, but it had been gorgeous, the envy of all the other girls.
I got a flash in my mind of Luthor, as a little boy. That hungry look in his eyes.
“This vacation,” I said. “We're the ones taking advantage of him.”
Simon pulled back from the table, eyebrows raised. “I wouldn't go that far.”
“This was fun,” Suzanne said. “It was a one-time thing, and we all had a nice time. I saw Luthor on his way out this morning, and he gave me a big hug and said he'd had a great time.”
“Really?” My eyes hurt, like I might start crying. “Did he seem happy?”
“Very,” she said, nodding.
Simon gave me a broad smile. “We have all the time in the world to work things out, once we're back home. Everything seems surreal when you're in a different time zone. You can talk some more on your next date, when you see each other at home.”
“I'm not seeing him anymore. If I do see Luthor Thorne again, it'll be to break up with him.” I poked at the fruit on my plate. “Or to resign from my position as paid consort.”
“Don't call yourself that,” Suzanne said. “It isn't true. He told me you refused to take any money from him. Yes, he paid for the vacation, but that's it, and that was a gift. I don't want to hear you say any of those words about yourself.”
She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. I gasped at the shock of being touched. Her hand on mine brought me out of my head and back into the world. Emotion rose up in me, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both.
The flight back home went as expected.
Those crazy lovebirds Suzanne and Simon were at it on the plane again. They started off kissing and flirting in their seats, being anything but subtle with their shared blanket. I gave them a dirty look, and they excused themselves to the bathroom.
They weren't in there very long this time, so I guess they were getting the hang of it.
When they came back out, I said, “The Mile High club is for sexy strangers who meet up on the plane. Not for married people who are going to be sharing a bed tonight and every night for the rest of their lives.”
“We are strangers,” Simon told me.
Suzanne tossed back her hair as she settled into the seat across the aisle from me. “I'm a famous Hollywood actress who's going through a messy divorce.”
“And who are you?” I asked Simon.
“Uh … isn't it obvious? I'm a rock star.” He pushed up his glasses on his nose.
The air hostess came by and handed Simon his cell phone. “You two left this in the bathroom when you were in there together.”
Simon blinked up at her. “My wife was feeling unwell.”
The woman said, “I hope she's feeling better now.”
Suzanne blushed, turning redder than I'd ever seen her before. “Much better,” she said.
After the air hostess left, I said, “You guys are going to get us all put on a special list. A naughty list.”
Simon sat up straight and proud in his seat. “Lexie, honey. You only live once.”
2: Return to Jacob
Back home, I got nervous about making a date with Jacob. I hadn't replied to his email, but I'd re-read it so many times, I had it memorized.
The last bit gave me chills:
Oh, Lexie, I've been such an idiot. Of course I want more from you than what we have. Where are you? We need to talk.
I've never been a big fan of that phrase. “We need to talk.” Why did people have to talk so much? Couldn't they just take off all their clothes and show each other how they felt? Wouldn't that be so much more fun and less stressful?
I gave myself a little time to recover from the trip and get my head back on local time, and I made a date with Jacob for Friday night. Now, when I say I made a date with him, I mean I sent him a chickenshit text message saying: Friday at seven? Wanna come over?
He immediately phoned me instead of texting. I did not pick up the call. He didn't leave voicemail, but called a few more times. Finally, I got a text message saying: Sure. We'll go out. I'll pick you up.
I'd made dates and hookup plans with Jacob probably fifty times in the past, if not a hundred, but I was feeling as nervous as a virginal high schooler. Did he like me? Did me like-me-like-me? What would I wear? What did it mean? Were we going to go steady?
The only thing that calmed me down was relaxation time in the tub with some of my favorite toys. Unfortunately, as soon as I closed my eyes, I thought of things I shouldn't. Like Luthor Thorne, and those hungry eyes of his. Luthor, his flesh so hot against mine in the cool swimming pool under the moon in Indonesia. That cute way he had of getting straight up out of bed without any lazy snoozing. Rubbing my back when I threw up over the side of the boat after getting hurt by the stingray.
The wound on my leg was healing nicely. I squinted to imagine the scar that would remain. It would be a cute scar, just a little one. A life well-lived was going to leave a few marks here and there.
I settled into the hot bath and rubbed my whiskerbiscuit. The touch of a man is incredible, but there's something comforting about taking care of yourself. I held my free hand to my mouth and thought of kissing Luthor on his soft, full lips, and of roving down his body, taking his c**k in my hand and mouth.