Chapter 8 Close but no Cigar
“How could you be so crass? Vic…well, I can understand him. He’s a realtor, after all. But you?”
I’d told Kelly about the idea that Vic and I had, the day we met Harriet and Calvin Stowe. We'd been sailing and put ashore in a small, secluded cove where we stumbled across Vic and his mistress Wendy. Kelly had sent us men off so she and Wendy could have some girl talk, so we walked perhaps a quarter mile inland – it turned out Vic knew the cove as well as I did – to a deep pool where we swam.
Vic had had the idea first, to make a relaxation CD recording the forest noises and showing a slideshow of the surrounding forest. I hadn’t thought much of it till Vic had talked about the commercial possibilities. I realised he was right. We could make some good money out of the idea.
Kelly didn’t like it. “You want to commercialise this lovely spot – this place, where you and I made love?”
“No…I want others to be able to enjoy the cove’s beauty as well.”
“You just want to make a quick dollar!” she shot back. “No, I’m not interested in marketing your seedy little venture for you. Go talk to that slut Bethany Beaverbrook. She’ll jump at the idea.” Kelly stood up and walked out of the bar leaving me to pay the tab. By the time I’d paid it and got outside, she was nowhere in sight. Nor was she answering her cell phone.
I did the right thing, sending flowers, chocolates and a card over to her apartment by courier so that – I hoped – they would be there before she got home. I gave her a half hour then went over there myself. She had calmed down – not a lot, but enough to let me inside her apartment. “I still think its money grabbing, Peter. It’s beneath you. Like I said, it’s something I’d expect from Vic.” She looked at me for a moment. “But yes, you’re forgiven. So long as you take me out to dinner. Tonight. At Alinea.”
I spluttered. A meal at Alinea would cost me at least $500 a plate. That was assuming I could even get a reservation. The place was normally booked out, weeks in advance. The look on Kelly’s face though, told me she wouldn’t accept any excuses. She expected me to do exactly as she said. I sighed. “Let me see what I can do.”
“You have fifteen minutes Peter, I need a shower anyway.”
I called the restaurant and, by shameless name-dropping and out-and-out bribery, I managed to get a reservation for two. I even got it within the allotted fifteen minutes The meal was –as always –superb, and Kelly mellowed more during the evening, though not, as I found out when I took her home, enough to allow me in for coffee.
“No Peter. I’m still not pleased at all about this CD scheme. Yes, you can go ahead with it, since you’ve apparently already told Vic you would, but don’t expect me to help you. Like I said, go see that sleazy slut Bethany. I’m sure she’ll be champing at the bit to help you. She’ll probably open her legs for you too.” She held up her hand. “Don’t tell me you don’t want that. You do. I know you too well.” She smiled. “Good night.”
I’d been dismissed. I turned to go but I heard her foot tapping and I turned back. She stood at the door, the smile still on her face. “You’ve forgotten something.” I looked blank. She put her arms round my neck and drew my head down. “To kiss me goodnight. You’re so dumb sometimes.”
It must have been almost five minutes later when I actually left Kelly’s door. She was the best kisser I knew, and her expertise always left me wanting more. I was so aroused I could barely walk properly from the erection straining at my pants. From her smirk as she closed the door, I knew she was well aware of her effect on me.
It was only when I was halfway home that I remembered I’d promised to meet Vic the next day, not just to talk about the CD but because I had, at last, persuaded Kelly to move in with me, or at least to look at condos with the idea of buying one to share.
Vic remembered, of course. I expected he would. What I didn’t expect was for Kelly to email him, telling him the condo search was off. That wasn’t all. “Buddy, you’re having a bad time with her,” he said, just minutes after we met. “She also told me she wouldn’t help us with the marketing either.”
I muttered something under my breath. What was important to Vic wasn’t necessarily what was important to me. He must have sensed this. “Anyway, you can’t do anything about her at the moment. You’ll have to wait for the right time. Women are like that. At least she wanted to go to dinner with you. Keep romancing her and you’ll be ok.” He changed the subject. “What you can do something about, is the CD. She told you to go ahead with it. Here…read her email.” He offered his phone to me. “She even gave me the name of some marketing consultant to use. She says you know her.”
I read the email and blushed. I thought Kelly had thrown Bethany’s name at me in anger, but her email to Vic looked like a serious recommendation. Not only did Kelly attach Bethany’s electronic business card, but she'd even written that she’d follow up the referral with Bethany herself
I was puzzled. Why would Kelly do that? What would Bethany say? Did she know how thoroughly I’d played her? Did she know that I’d set her up to fight Kelly, or that Kelly and I were lovers? Even if she knew none of that, would she be angry with me? She had every right to be. We’d fucked. That was how I’d seen it – purely animalistic sex – and I hadn’t called her since. Had she thought it was something different? Had she been hoping for a call?
Despite my doubts, I knew better than to argue with Kelly. I called Bethany.
Apparently I needn’t have been concerned. “Hey Peter! It’s great to hear from you! Yes, Kelly Haldane told me you’d be in touch. Marketing this venture is more my line than hers so she referred you to me.” I sighed, both from relief since Kelly had evidently not told her everything, but also from regret at the thought that she wouldn’t be fighting Kelly again anytime soon. “She told me you needed some marketing advice. I’d love to help. When would you like to meet?”
Vic and I met with her that same afternoon, discussing our ideas. She had some good suggestions, and we left after signing an agreement with the company. She told us she’d get a good incentive payment for signing us up. I was glad for her.
“Peter, you’ve got it made,” said Vic as we started to walk back to our car. “Did you see how that bitch on heat kept looking at you? Look now, she’s waving to us.”
“Vic, you’re imagining things. Not everyone is as sex-crazed as you.” I nudged him in the ribs to show I was half kidding. “I’m with Kelly…even if we are having a few problems just now. I don’t need a bit on the side.” Still, when he had his back to the building, opening the car door, I turned. It was true. Bethany was at the door. I sketched a salute and she waved back. I texted her as soon as I dropped Vic off at his office.
She called me back within minutes and suggested we meet at the jazz spot near her home. That was the same place we had gone after her fight with Kelly. I agreed instantly. It had good food and great music. Better still, I’d never gone there except with Bethany and none of my friends had ever spoken of the place. Whatever happened there, I’d be anonymous.
We started with some wine at the bar, but it wasn't much more than a few minutes before Bethany complained about the noise and the crush, and suggested we move somewhere quieter. I got a bottle of white and she led me to one of the booths. She wanted to know everything I'd been doing. I had to be careful not to talk about Kelly but I slipped up when Bethany changed the subject quickly. She asked about how Vic and I had come up with the idea for the relaxation CD and without thinking, I replied, “Kelly and I were sailing. We put into a cove and met Vic and a girl there. The girls wanted to chat, so Vic and I went off to this marvelous deep waterhole for a swim. Afterwards we got talking.”
“Kelly? I thought she was just a business contact.”
I managed to recover. “She sails with me. We’re in the same club.” I filled her wine glass and changed the subject. “So what have you been doing?” She wasn't very forthcoming.
Over dinner, which she insisted on paying for – “Peter, you're my client” – she changed the subject again, talking about the CD venture. She wanted to know a lot of details, which I suppose was fair enough. She needed some background to plan the marketing campaign. But business ventures are a dry introduction to seduction.
I thought I'd have a better chance when the music started. The band played some old Glen Miller favourites so I invited her to dance. She seemed to enjoy herself, but even on the dance floor she was reserved, almost chaste, holding me almost at arm’s length, being very business-like. Only once did her professional mask slip – she gulped, blanched and shivered before recovering. I looked in the mirror behind her, following her shocked stare. She was watching somebody – a couple. I wondered who they were.
The band stopped. “Peter, I'm tired,” she said. “Let’s sit this set out.” We found our booth taken but there were some armchairs nearby. I sat in one. Bethany perched herself on the armrest, draping her arm around my shoulder. We chatted for a while. I thought she'd repeat her performance last time – which I knew would be a prelude to sex – but she didn’t. We just talked, again mainly about the project. I was starting to grow bored, desperate to change the subject, when she excused herself to go to the bathroom.
I watched as she walked away across the room. She was quite conservatively dressed tonight in a cream coloured lady's suit with long sleeves and a skirt that fell almost to her knees, a white high-necked blouse and her only jewelry was a cameo brooch at her neck. Nevertheless, she could not help being sexy. Indeed, I thought the conservative business attire only enhanced her sexuality. Her sole concession to the dinner had been her scent. It lingered even after she'd gone. I sniffed it, strong, musky and almost animalistic in her sensuality.
I watched as she walked – the sway of her hips, the slight jiggle of her breasts as she took each step. She stopped politely to let a man carrying some drinks go past her. She smiled at him and went on. The man turned to watch her. He glanced at me, nearly blushed and went on his way again. Yes, her allure was even stronger for being understated. I realised the man was one half of the couple that had apparently given Bethany such a shock, earlier on the dance floor. She seemed unfazed by the man, indeed it was as if she’d never met him before. I guessed it was the woman who had so scared her.
My guess was soon confirmed. A few moments after the man returned to their table with the drinks, the woman got up from her seat and walked over towards the bathroom. She blocked Bethany's return. Bethany and she started talking. I couldn't hear what they said, so I got up and walked over to them. I saw the man who'd looked Bethany over, doing the same thing.
I heard Bethany say, “I signed my own contract. It’s only a small one…not Balfour Industries, just a side line Mr Balfour and an associate of his have come up with.” I heard her voice change. “Please let me pass, Alison.” She was pleading.
“That’s a likely story! You’re the office whore! How many times did you open your legs to get that job?”
I circled around them until I stood next to the other man. From there, I looked at the speaker, standing blocking Bethany's way. She was a brunette, with hair that fell to the shoulders of her conservative business suit. In contrast to Bethany, her suit was grey and instead of a blouse, she wore a low cut fashion teddy that stretched tight across her bust. She had a bracelet on one wrist and a pendant around her neck, hanging down between her breasts. She was quite a few inches shorter than the very tall Bethany. I'd have judged her as being about five feet seven and she was slimmer than Bethany too. Compared to her lean body, Bethany looked almost plump even though much of Bethany’s 145 or so pounds was in her impressive rack. The shorter brunette wasn't quite as well endowed – maybe a more usual 36C.
The brunette continued, “You need a lesson in manners, slut! Jo didn’t finish the job, and Kelly’s stopped us from dealing with you properly at the office. But she’s not around,is she? Now it’s just you and me, slut!”
I turned to the man next to me. “Peter Balfour. I'm with Bethany.” I nodded toward her. “She's doing a marketing campaign for a new venture a friend and I are putting together.” I grinned. “Though right now, I don't think marketing relaxation CDs is uppermost in her mind.”
He glanced in my direction. “David Evans…pleased to meet you, Peter.” He looked back at the two women. “That sexpot of yours is about to have some real problems. Amanda – my girlfriend – works with her, and those two girls don’t like each other.” As we watched, Alison grabbed Bethany by the shoulder and shook her, before shoving her backwards. “Alison tells me your girl tried to fight one of Alison’s friends in the washroom,” he continued. “She lost.”
I smiled. “It’s no news to me that she fights, but she’s not actually my girl. Like I say, she’s just someone doing a job for me. In fact, it was my girl who arranged for Bethany to do the work.”
Alison shoved Bethany back into a blind corner, with chairs and tables on either side of her and a booth behind. I raised my voice. “Bethany, you can’t let her get away with that!” I wanted to see a fight for all the usual reasons and besides, I knew Kelly would love to see Bethany fighting again. I pulled out my cell phone and snapped a pic of Bethany hitting a table. “For my girl,” I told David. “She likes to see women fighting too. She herself even fights, at times.”
Alison started slapping hard at Bethany’s face. Bethany tried to retaliate but failed. Alison had the space to dodge and weave. Bethany was confined by the tables and chairs and couldn’t maneuver She parried some of Alison’s slaps but most got through. Few of hers landed on Alison.
“Alison’s cunning,” noted David. “She’s trapped the slut.” He looked at me and added in explanation, “Oh, in case you don’t know, Alison says she’s just that. She was screwing the boss.” That confirmed my earlier suspicions.
Bethany switched her attack to Alison’s boobs. “Strange move there,” commented David. “The slut’s got bigger targets. Easier for Alison to hit them.” The two girls stood almost toe to toe, trading punishing slaps for what seemed like thirty seconds or so, neither of them defending. That was worth another photo. I wished I could take both still and movies at the same time.
“That may be true, but Bethany’s fighting back. She’s starting to punish Alison now.” After all Bethany was both taller and – slightly – heavier. Her blows were starting to get through, and beginning to tell. That much was obvious from Alison’s grunts and winces. She started paying more attention to defense, again ducking, moving from side to side and retreating every so often, as well as deflecting and parrying Bethany’s assault.
Her defense worked. Again, fewer of Bethany’s blows hit and Alison – even using one hand – began to score freely again, so freely that Bethany also defended with one hand while continuing to attack with the other. Bethany was still trapped by the tables though, and her defense was less than effective. After almost a minute of taking more punishment, from Alison, she tried to sidestep away but collided with the table again.
“She can’t take it!” said David. “All Alison needs to do is keep her penned in, and she has the fight won.”
Bethany kicked at Alison’s thigh. The kick hit and hurt. Alison retreated. My third picture showed the surprise and pain on Alison’s face – her mouth open wide, her eyes popping. It was a great shot.
Bethany stepped forward and kicked again. This time Alison dodged to the side. Bethany tried to break out of her corner by dashing to the opposite side. She failed as Alison stepped across to block her, but Bethany’s fists flew into Alison’s sides – left, right then left again. Bethany’s ferocity seemed to surprise Alison and the smaller girl backed away. Again Bethany tried to capitalize, to dash to freedom, but again she failed. This time Alison punched her face, hard enough to send the taller brunette crashing back into the tables.
David was smiling. “The slut’s had it already. Alison said she was weak, but I don’t think she expected it was going be quite this easy!”
Alison closed in. Bethany bobbed down and swung her head back, then forward, going for a head butt. Alison scurried back to avoid it and. Bethany flung herself forward and tackled her, wrapping her arms round Alison’s legs and shoving hard. Alison kicked at Bethany’s side but Bethany pressed forward further and Alison nearly fell. She managed to wriggle out of Bethany’s grip. Bethany also squirmed to her side and stood upright, taking a few punches as she did so. She was out of the trap. That was worth another photo.
“What were you saying, about how weak Bethany is?” I said to David without taking my eyes off the two women. “She knew she had to escape and she kept trying till she did so. She’s a stayer.” I was impressed by Bethany’s resolve. I’d thought she was a good time girl – ok when the going was good, but went to pieces when things got tough. She hadn’t yet. I smiled. It looked like we’d see a good fight. Even better – whether she won or lost – I was betting Bethany would be hot for a fuck afterwards. Vic was right after all. I had it made.
Bethany had escaped Alison’s trap but she’d paid a high price for doing so. She was panting. Her breasts rose and fell as she gulped air. Her face was red from Alison’s slaps. It would be multi-coloured with bruises tomorrow.
Alison wasn’t letting her go easily, either. She moved freely around the already tired Bethany, firing punches. Bethany parried some of them – most, even – but some got through and when they did, they often elicited groans of pain. Bethany seemed flat footed, too tired to counterattack. She glanced at me. I toasted her, trying to encourage her to take the fight to her enemy. I also didn't want her to see the cell phone in my other hand.
“A stayer, huh?” David sneered. “Sure doesn’t look like that to me. Ï’d say she’s shot. Alison will finish her off soon enough. She’s just toying with her now!”
Bethany continued to fend Alison off – mostly – using her longer reach. She lashed out with a punch or so every so often, but Alison avoided them. Maybe she needed to recover. Maybe she was content to let Alison wear herself out, prepared to take some punishment in the hope Alison would squander her energy. I smiled to myself. It was the same strategy the Russians used against Napoleon – let your enemy exhaust herself.
“She can't really do much damage at long range,” I replied. “She needs to get in close and pound Bethany into submission if she’s going to win.”
A moment later, Alison didn't avoid one of Bethany's punches. It hit her just below her chest. She gagged, spluttering spittle which dribbled down her chin. “Alison!” David's anguished cry told that he sensed how much pain Bethany's blow had inflicted. It wasn’t hard to see from the look on Alison’s face. I'd been lucky, taking a photo just as the punch hit, then another of Alison's shocked reaction.
“Bethany only needs a few lucky shots like that,” I remarked.
Alison stepped back and regrouped, more watchful now. She tried to stay out of Bethany’s range, to just dart in and attack, then scurry back. After a minute or so, it seemed as though that tactic was paying off. Bethany’s defenses seemed to weaken. She was slowing. She sagged. Alison kept attacking and pounded Bethany with hard blows to her body. Bethany sagged even more, her arms huddled over her body defensively. I wondered if this was the end for her.
Alison stepped forward, her fists raised for a knockout blow. Suddenly Bethany's foot lashed out, landing in Alison's totally defenseless midsection. The kick all but lifted the smaller girl off her feet. She staggered backwards, her hands in the air. I snapped a picture showing Alison reeling. She was all but stunned. Bethany pressed home her attack with a hard punch that slammed into Alison's tummy just above where the kick had landed.
Using a tactic much older than Napoleon, older even than organized warfare, Bethany had outsmarted her foe. But could she capitalize on it? So far she hadn’t parlayed any of her momentary successes into strategic advantages. Would this one be different?
For a moment it seemed so. She attacked. Alison tried to respond. The two women dueled with slaps and punches to each other’s faces and upper bodies. For over a minute they slugged it out, each trying to hammer the other, but now that Bethany was free to move, she had the advantage. Each woman dodged, parried and moved so that less than half her opponent’s blows hit, but Bethany’s longer reach enabled her to score more often than Alison did, and her weight advantage enabled those blows to hit harder. Again the scene was perfect for pictures. I snapped one after the other as the two brunettes pounded each other mercilessly.
Alison took one step back. She stood her ground again for a while, but then stepped back again – two steps this time. Again she stood her ground, grimly going toe to toe with the woman who’d been almost at her mercy, only moments before. Then her nerve, or maybe her strength, failed her and she broke away completely.
“Not so cocky now, are you?” Bethany taunted, but she did little to press her advantage. Instead she let Alison recover. Maybe she needed to recover too. There was a lull in the fight, but I wondered if that was the calm before the storm. Perhaps the climax of this fight was imminent.
I certainly hoped so. My cock throbbed as my imagination ran wild with thoughts of what Bethany and I would do after she won – or lost. It didn’t matter which. She’d be so sexed up that I’d have her either way.
“Don't mess around! Take the fight to her!” I yelled out. It wasn’t just that I wanted to fuck Bethany later. I wanted to see a victory. I wanted to see the fear, the panic, the dread of humiliation to come, that would flash across the face of the girl who knew she was about to lose. I wanted to see it soon.
Perhaps encouraged by my words, Bethany pressed forward with a probing punch to Alison’s side. Alison retreated. Bethany lunged, showing more speed than she had for a while, her other fist aimed at Alison’s midriff. Alison avoided that too, but not Bethany’s kick to her knee. Alison faltered. She swayed. For a second I thought she was about to crumple, that her knee would give way. But she just went down on her knee for a second, then recovered and got back to her feet.
Bethany closed in. Alison lashed out, firing a punch at Bethany’s middle. Again, mostly by dumb luck, I took the classic shot as Bethany doubled over, cursing, a spray of spit frothing on her lips. I snapped another pic. Bethany breathed heavily. She fell back and Alison couldn’t do more than hobble after her, almost dragging her leg. Bethany easily avoided the hard punches Alison aimed.
“I thought you said Alison would tire her enemy out,” I said to David. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.” I watched the puffing, wheezing Alison hobble after Bethany. True, Bethany was clearly tiring too. Sweat ran down her face. But she proved she was in better shape than Alison as she stepped forward, sending repeated light punches at Alison.
Alison grimly defended. She defended well and less than half the punches hit, but she was slow and Bethany was taller. Bethany’s punches struck home more and more often. Alison panted, she gasped as each punch hit her. She retreated.
Then Alison got lucky. One hard punch hit Bethany in her belly. She almost folded up, clutching her battered tummy. Tears welled in her eyes.
“She got lazy. She thought she’d won. She hasn’t.”
“Not yet, David…but she will.” For the first time I was confident that Bethany would triumph.
Again Bethany tried her combination, left and right punches aimed at Alison’s head or body and then, after distracting her foe, a kick to the thigh. It worked yet again. Alison faltered. I half expected her to go down.
Bethany kept pressuring her. Alison kept retreating until she found she couldn’t any more. Her back hit the bar. I was impressed. Bethany was fighting smart. This was textbook military strategy – like Grant’s Army of the Potomac, she’d driven her enemy back until there was nowhere to retreat. I cheered and clapped. “You clever girl, Bethany!” I shook myself mentally and focused on the fight. It was odd, the way my mind worked sometimes.
Alison’s face went white as she fetched up against the bar. Her mouth opened in shock. Her eyes bugged wide, on the verge of panic. She tried to attack but failed as Bethany jabbed lightly at her tummy. She turned to face Bethany full on. Bethany fired a punch at her head. Alison’s hands came up to defend and Bethany ducked low, sending her fist crashing into Alison’s midriff.
Alison swayed. Spittle sprayed from her mouth. She staggered back into the bar, hands down to defend her ravaged belly. Clearly in command, Bethany punched at Alison’s face. The first two punches hit. Alison blocked the third and down went Bethany’s fists again, delivering a left-right combo to Alison belly. Alison groaned “Fuck!” as the left fist burrowed into her belly, then “No, god no!” as the right followed a second later. Amazingly, she stayed on her feet, swaying to be sure, but still vertical.
Bethany stepped backwards, took careful aim and kicked Alison. Her foot connected with Alison’s tummy and sent her up onto her toes. She hurtled into the bar behind her, then fell forwards and lay on the floor, motionless.
Bethany walked over to me. I kissed her. My tongue sought hers. I was about to get my reward.
Bethany pulled back. “I'd better help Alison. She’s going to need some first aid.”
“Don't worry. Her man is helping her. Come and have a drink,” I urged.
She agreed, but only had one before she said she had to go. “Peter, I have a marketing plan to prepare for the morning.”
For a moment I thought she was kidding. Then she turned and walked away.
David had the last word, after all. “She won, buddy…but you didn’t score.”
I sighed and stared into the bottom of my glass.
THE END
