Chapter 10 A hard let down at Emily's
The next two weeks after Wendy fought Lauren and I bedded Bethany, were madness. We were more than busy at work and of course, my parents, my brother and I bore the brunt of it. That’s how it is in a family business and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It just goes with the territory. Then there was the new venture. Vic had grandiose ideas of a continuing business, fed by Bethany’s comments, but even without those we had to organize the photos and the sound, then produce the CD. All these activities kept me hopping.
To top it off, I was trying to woo back Kelly with flowers and chocolate candy, plus special treats like a Symphony concert, a first night at the theatre and a private viewing at the Art Institute. Not to mention that every other night, I was screwing Bethany.
Something had to give.
I promised Bethany I'd take her to the movies, the second Friday after the night at Emily’s Beach Bar. Around lunchtime that day, Kelly called. “Peter, the Symphony has a concert tonight that I
have to go to. Come with me, please.”
I groaned inwardly. “But…”
She interrupted me with a peal of laughter that echoed down the phone. “You’re taking Bethany somewhere, aren’t you?”
I dropped the phone. When I picked it up again, she continued without waiting for a reply. “Yes, I knew. I knew the slut would screw you. I even know how often she does it. When she turns up to work with that 'well fucked ' smirk on her face, I know that you've been out together…or rather ‘in together’ the night before.
“No,” she went on, “don't deny it. You know I don’t care if you’re screwing her. And before you ask…no, I don't think she has any idea that you and I are together.” I didn't need to listen to the rest, after I seized on the ‘are’. What she said for the next minute or two –something about the concert – went over my head in the rush of relief. Sex with Bethany was great, but Kelly was the one I really wanted.
“Kelly, you set us up, didn’t you? You knew she’d want to screw me, when you threw her at Vic and me.”
“Yes, of course I did,” she replied. “And why? Well, that’s for you to figure out.” She laughed again. “But you
are taking me to the Symphony tonight, Peter Balfour…and I don't care what you tell her.” She hung up.
For a full minute, I sat motionless at my desk, trying to think of a way to avoid the evening becoming a train wreck, one way or the other. Then one of the factory foremen called and asked me to come down to the factory floor. We were installing some machine and I don’t remember what the problem was, but I gave it my full attention – anything to get the looming catastrophe out of my mind.
I must have been working with the guys for over an hour because it was past 2pm when we were done. The plant normally closed at 3.30 on a Friday but I still had paperwork to do. I attacked that, again trying to put off the phone call I knew I had to make. It was after 4 pm when I stopped procrastinating. “Bethany, I’m sorry, but I can’t make it tonight.”
As I expected, she was supremely disappointed. “But I’d planned dinner first. I wanted you to meet my sister. Then we’d go out…you and I, I mean…not Bella.” She gulped and stopped for a moment. “I’m babbling. I’m sorry, Peter. Maybe we can meet tomorrow night instead.”
I jumped on her suggestion. “Definitely. Let’s do that!” We agreed on a time and I gratefully got off the phone.
I don't remember much about the Symphony on Friday night, other than that I gave Kelly some roses when I picked her up, and that she kissed me – oh so well –when I dropped her home again. She still didn’t invite me in though.
I don't remember much of the Saturday either, except that one of the kids in the sailing class hurt himself – cut his hand on something or another – and one of the moms, Denise Runciman, stitched him up and took him to emergency. Denise's husband David was a doctor. They were friends of Vic and his wife and, like Vic, were good club members. The kid didn't seem to be hurt too bad. Denise called me before the class ended, to say she was taking him home. The Runcimans were like that. You could depend on them.
Bethany and I had arranged to meet at Emily’s. I got there early. I’d been wracking my brains, trying to think of a suitable excuse for blowing her off last night. I still didn't have one – not one that would convince Bethany anyway.
I needn't have worried. I gasped when she walked in. “What happened to you, girl?” She was pretty well covered up, maybe because of the chill in the air but maybe for other reasons too but her face, and what could see of her arms and legs, was a mass of bruises, scratches and minor cuts.“Come on! Out with it! You've been in another fight.” It wasn’t a question.
She nodded sheepishly.
“Ok…we won't say anything about it, but just so that I know, who won?”
Her face lost a little of its sheepish expression. “Me. Ask Emily.”
“Emily? As in the owner here?”
“Yes. It happened here, last night.”
Then, remembering herself, she introduced me to her sister. Isabella Beaverbrook wasn't as tall as her sister but she had the same dark, almost black eyes, pale skin and dark hair. Apart from that, there wasn't much resemblance. Isabella was leaner than her voluptuous sister. She looked as though she exercised more, too – her legs and arms, visible under her body hugging turtle neck sweater, were well defined. She might not have had Bethany’s curves, but she was a good-looking woman nonetheless.
I greeted Bella and tried to make conversation, but after covering her sister's truly excellent marketing programs and a few topics of small talk, it soon became difficult. It was obvious, just from the fact that Bethany wanted me to meet her sister, that she had a very different view of our relationship. When a woman asks a man she’s sleeping with to meet her family, there’s only one reason – because she thinks, or at least hopes, that there’s more to the relationship than just sex. With Bethany and I however, that wasn’t the case, at least from my viewpoint – and apart from the marketing campaign, I didn’t see things changing. Kelly was my girlfriend. Bethany wasn't even my mistress. How to tell her that however, was beyond me.
I suddenly dropped my fork and knocked over the glass of water next to my plate.
Oh God. Sprung! I tried to compose myself as Kelly strode into Emily's, making her way directly to our table.
Bethany hadn’t seen her. “Peter, what’s wrong?” She didn’t look around, but reached out to hold my hand, evidently hoping to reassure me –further evidence that she was more emotionally invested than I was.
My heart sank. I should have realised before now, that Bethany wanted more than sex. I hadn’t read her right. I’d thought, perhaps because Kelly had flung Bethany at me, that Bethany was exactly how Alison’s boyfriend had described her – a sexpot. I’d realised that the sexpot had a brain when I saw her marketing campaign. I’d realised too that the brainy sexpot had a deep and devious streak when I saw her finesse Wendy into fighting Lauren. What I hadn’t realised was that the devious, brainy sexpot had emotions, that she she wanted more than just sex from me, until far too late. I should have realised that when she first suggested I should meet her sister.
Now, as she tried to reassure me, as her thumb stroked my hand and, as her nemesis approached scattering all in her wake it was far too late. I could see that her gesture wasn’t lost on Kelly – not that Kelly ever missed much. This was going to get ugly.
“What are you doing holding my boyfriend’s hand?” Kelly glared at Bethany. Bethany whirled in her seat, her mouth falling open but Kelly didn’t let her answer. Instead she continued, “I see you’ve been fighting again, Bethany. Emily tells me you were provoked but I’ve heard that before. It takes two to make a fight You’re a violent woman, aren’t you?” Any other time, I’d have wanted details of that fight. Not now. I just wanted to be anywhere but here.
Kelly still didn’t let Bethany speak. “Yes, Peter’s my boyfriend. I thought that would be obvious, even to a slut like you. It was me who invited him to the garden party where you met him. You knew that. You also knew he…and for that matter his family’s business…wasn’t a client of ours. He wasn’t on the guest list, so you should have realised he wasn’t a prospect either, at least not then. No…he was there because he was
my boyfriend.” She put an ominous emphasis on the word ‘my’.
I have never – before or since – seen a woman’s face dissolve into tears like Bethany’s did at that moment. She completely lost it. Her shoulders shook and her breasts heaved as she wept, almost silent sobs punctuated by a rasping in her throat as she sucked in air. She was clearly devastated.
Kelly wasn’t finished yet. “Bethany, listen to me.” She bent and seized the sobbing girl’s chin, forcing Bethany to look up at her. “You didn’t have to fuck Peter to get his business, any more than you had to fuck Henry Vaughan to keep your job. I’ve told you, you have talent…and I don’t mean opening your legs, though you seem to be talented at that too.
“You didn’t have to get into bed with Peter to get the work. I gave it to you because I thought you could handle it…and I was right. You did a good job
“You did a good job of fucking Peter too.” She paused to let that barb sink in. “Slut!” I saw Bethany’s face crumple even further, if that was possible.
Kelly turned to me. “I bet she’s a really good fuck, isn’t she Peter? But you want more than a good fuck, don’t you?”
I looked her in the eye for a moment. Then I nodded. It had just clicked into place for me, why Kelly had kept her distance over the past few weeks, and why she had thrown Bethany at me. In her own devious way, Kelly was teaching me a lesson; that sex, even great sex, wasn’t enough for me by any means. There needed to be more than that.
That was why I’d never doubted for a moment that Kelly was my girlfriend while Bethany was just a distraction. Kelly and I were about far more than just sex. It wasn’t even the common interests in music, film and art that I shared with Kelly – and about which Bethany knew little – that made the difference. Kelly’s strength of character and her imperious nature to which everyone – including me at times – submitted was far more exciting, far more compelling than mere sex, in the same way that the
film noir femme fatales – women like Veronica Lake and Marlene Dietrich – were always more sensuous and fascinating to me than their ‘good girl’ counterparts, even if they were screen sex goddesses. It wasn’t even a physical thing. Whether small in stature like Lake, or tall and statuesque like Dietrich or Lynn Bari, they had a presence that went beyond physical stature – just like Kelly. She, like they, had the strength of character to mould men like putty. That was what turned me on the most – even when one of those men was me.
Kelly had made her point, all right. I knew she was the woman for me. Nevertheless, I still felt bad for Bethany. I’d led her on. I’d used her for sex. I thought that was all she wanted but now I realised I was wrong. I felt compassion and remorse but if I was honest with myself, not a lot of remorse. She’d played her cards, I’d played mine and Kelly had played hers. Kelly had trumped Bethany. That was what Kelly did – she won.
I didn’t quite understand my own reaction here. I had always loved these power exchanges, the confrontation between two women where one triumphed and the other sat – or lay – defeated. Even when they didn’t develop into actual fights, those things always got me incredibly excited – the power and strength of the winner, the pleading and abject surrender of the loser, weeping as Bethany was now. Right now though, I didn’t feel excited. I felt bad, though I wondered if that was just because I wouldn’t be taking Bethany to bed any longer.
It looked like Kelly had taught Bethany a lesson too. Bethany wouldn’t think so right now – she was still sobbing her heart out – but in time she’d realise that Kelly was right. She did have more to offer than just sex. When she understood that, she might be able to play the sort of cards Veronica had played in
The Blue Dahlia and win the heart of the hero, but until then she could only do what Lynn Bari had done in
Shock and come to a sticky end.
Kelly slipped her arm into mine. “Peter, it’s time to go.” I stood up.
“You think you can just leave her like this?” Bethany’s sister stood up too.“The poor girl…”
“The
poor girl screwed my boyfriend!” Kelly snapped back.
“You knew damn well that he was screwing her!” Isabella was no fool.
“So?”Kelly was all but stuck for words. That made me raise an eyebrow.
“You set her up!” I almost smiled. Isabella was very perceptive. “You set her up with him.”
“So what if I did? Maybe I did it for her own good. I hope she’s learned her lesson. She doesn’t have to spread her legs to get ahead.”
“Lesson?”Isabella shot back. “You set all this up just to teach Bethany a lesson? Like hell you did! I know your kind! You get off on controlling people…her and him!” She jabbed a finger at me. She had hit the nail right on the head, but that wasn’t the only thing about to get hit. Kelly’s face had that peculiar whiteness that signaled her mounting anger. This was heading for a fight. “You manipulative bitch.”
“That’s enough from you girl.” Kelly’s voice was low and dangerous. “Be quiet, just like your sister. I don’t see her complaining.”
“That’s because you…and your lapdog boyfriend…have destroyed her.” Isabella stepped out from the table, around Bethany who still sat with her head in her hands. She faced Kelly. I stepped back.
“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Kelly. “She got exactly what she wanted! Every second day for the last two weeks, I’ve watched her come to work with that ‘I got my brains fucked out’ smile on her face. It’s a pity she didn’t smile like that because she was doing her job well – which she was – but it’s getting fucked hard that turns your slut of a sister on!” I blinked. That was rough, even for Kelly. She was evidently angry as hell. I wondered if Isabella knew what she was getting into.
“You bitch!” Isabella suddenly slapped at Kelly. I was surprised that the slap landed and even more so at how hard it hit. Kelly rocked back on her heels. She wasn't prepared. Isabella followed up with two more slaps, one to each side of Kelly's face. They both hit hard again. Kelly's head whipped to one side, then the other. Her eyes glazed over for an instant and she had no choice but to retreat.
Isabella came after her, still swinging slaps, some of which Kelly parried, but those that hit hurt. Kelly grunted with each blow that struck her face. I noticed the difference between the way Bethany slapped Kelly and the way her sister did. Bethany had swung her arms, effective because of her long reach, but Isabella swung her whole body like a discus thrower and those slaps were simply devastating. Kelly was reeling. She staggered backwards, ducking to avoid the blows.
Isabella lunged, again slapping at Kelly’s head but she was at the limit of her reach, bent forward. Kelly saw her opening and launched a hard punch. Bella turned and took the punch on her side. She hissed and stepped back.
Kelly straightened up. At five feet eight, she was maybe an inch taller than Bella. She brought her fists up ready to attack. Bella didn’t wait for her to do so though. Again she swung her body and launched more slaps at my girl’s head and shoulders. Kelly defended, blocking more than half of Bella’s blows but those that broke through, hammered Kelly hard.
Despite that, Kelly regrouped, showing the same resilience under pressure that she had displayed in her previous fights. She defended with one hand and dodged some of Bella’s slaps, but others continued to crash through. I understood what Kelly was doing though. She was trading the chance that more blows would hit, for the chance to punch back at Bella.
Her aggression was successful. She scored, hitting Bella’s tummy, but Bella seemed to have a six pack there, not the soft curving – and to my mind, ever so sexy –belly that her younger sister had. Kelly’s punches didn’t seem to have much effect. Bella grunted and groaned when she was hit, which wasn’t too often for she too defended well with one hand and the way she twisted and swung her body each time she slapped at Kelly made her a difficult target.
I began to wonder whether Kelly had met her match, but then I remembered how, in each fight, she had let her opponent attack her like this. It wasn't that she let her foe, whether it was Jenn Peccavi, Alison Hoare or Bethany Beaverbrook, wear herself out –though that had certainly been the case with Peccavi. It wasn't even that she let them think they were winning before she sprang a trap on them. Kelly’s strength was that she took the time to read her enemy. It was almost as if she got inside the other woman’s head, to figure out the most humiliating way she could defeat her.
So I told myself I was worrying unduly if I thought Bella was winning. Kelly was just sizing her up. I also thought – and hoped – that Kelly liked to put on a show for the spectators and especially for me. I remembered how Kelly had smiled and winked at me during her battle with Peccavi on the beach
But then I did worry as another of Bella's solid slaps thudded home, high up on Kelly's left cheek. It didn't seem any different to any other, but Kelly's reaction was very different. Instead of her usual short, half suppressed grunt and maybe a step back, Kelly let out a long sigh. She rocked on her feet.
Then her knees gave out and she dropped to the floor. It was my turn to suppress a gasp. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Bella moved fast to straddle Kelly, but Kelly was even faster. She may have been stunned for a moment but she wasn't out of the fight yet. She punched hard and often at Bella's midsection as Bella tried to pin her shoulders. Bella realised she couldn't continue and went back to slapping at Kelly’s head instead but straddling Kelly as she was, she couldn't bring her whole body to bear and pin the struggling, heaving Kelly as well.
Kelly's punches elicited more groans and gasps from Bella than Bella's slaps did from her. Bella began to rock as Kelly's blows hit home more and more often and as Kelly twisted her torso hard with each punch. After a few moments Kelly managed to roll and push Bella off her.
The two women scrambled to their feet. For a moment they circled, Bella swinging her body, trying to slap Kelly as hard as she had done before, eager to regain her momentum. Kelly hunkered down, ducked and weaved, and most of the slaps went over her head. As Isabella bent forward to hit lower, Kelly launched a punch into Bella's tummy. Bella gasped but didn't seem that affected. She swung another slap that hit Kelly's face hard. Unfazed, Kelly hit her foe a little lower. Her fist hammered home square in the middle of Bella’s tummy, midway between her navel and her crotch.
This time Bella gagged and coughed. When Kelly sent another punch to the same spot, she emitted a long groan. She staggered back, her hands clutching her tummy. For the first time in this fight, Kelly had visibly damaged her foe. She sprang forward, pursuing the still wheezing Bella with light sparring punches, intended more to prevent the brunette from recovering her poise than to hurt her.
If that was indeed her goal, Kelly succeeded. Bella defended, gasping for air, and wasn't able to launch the kind of slaps which had been so effective earlier. She managed to block most of Kelly's punches but she was tiring faster, it seemed, than Kelly was. Both women were panting, both were sweating heavily, both bore the marks of the fight with reddened skin, ugly weals on their faces, their clothes dirtied by the dust on the floor, but Kelly seemed to have gained the mental edge now.
Apparently realising that no one wins a fight by pure defense, Bella closed on Kelly. She kicked out with her left foot, aiming at Kelly's side. Kelly pivoted and the kick missed. Bella kicked again and this time she hit Kelly high on the right side of her body, just below her chest. Kelly was knocked backward and let out a grunt that sprayed some spit from her mouth. She gasped and spluttered, seemingly flat footed all of a sudden.
Bella attacked again with those powerful swinging slaps. The first few hit with the same destructive force as before until Kelly stepped closer, minimising Bella's opportunity to use her whole body in the swing. Bella quickly adapted however and sent a knee lift into the outside of Kelly's thigh. It hit – hard. Kelly buckled and crumpled forward as though to hold onto Bella. Bella smiled, thinking she had won now, but Kelly surprised her by raking her nails down Bella' s face, drawing beads of blood on the brunette's cheek. Bella gasped, “Bitch!” She backed off. Kelly had checked her foe's attack yet again.
Again the two women circled, slowly. Bella was breathing hard, gasping, her mouth open. She looked worn out. She may have been fitter than her sister but just like Bethany, she didn't have the mental endurance for a fight like this. As Kelly had told me and had shown her enemies, a fighter has to have the overwhelming desire to win. She has to want – no, need – to destroy her foe, no matter what. Kelly had that in spades.
She lunged, her fist striking low down, just above the panty line. Bella reeled. She stumbled back. Kelly pressured her, hammering her with punches to the upper body. Bella defended grimly and, to start with, effectively but she wasn't swinging her body anymore and she didn't – perhaps she couldn’t– wield those powerful slaps. Kelly could punch, and she did – hard, solid punches. Bella deflected or dodged some, but Kelly began to hit her increasingly often, each impact drawing a groan or a gasp. She spluttered and winced as she retreated. Kelly was wearing her down, and they both knew it. Kelly smiled. Bella grew paler by the minute.
Bella still had some shots in her locker, however, and she showed that now as she swung her leg up rapidly. The kick completely surprised Kelly, who reeled back as it connected with her upper tummy, just below her breasts. Bella pressed her advantage, throwing herself onto Kelly, bringing her down. Bella tried to get on top. Kelly was too fast. Both girls got to their feet, but Kelly got there first. She beckoned Bella forward.
Bella tried again to swing her body and slap Kelly silly. She didn’t succeed. Her rhythm was gone. Kelly dodged, bobbed and weaved, letting Bella squander her energy. Soon Bella slowed down and Kelly regrouped. She started punching again, this time putting all her power into the shots. The first hammered Bella's midsection. Bella crumpled forward. Kelly's next punch slammed into Bella's face. Bella tried to block the third and succeeded, deflecting Kelly's fist away but she didn't deflect Kelly's knee that crashed into her belly. Bella made a gurgling noise, doubled over and swayed on her feet for a moment. Her eyes were wide with pain and shock. It looked like the fight was all over. Kelly put that beyond any doubt when she fired a wicked right hook that caught Bella just above her left ear. Bella crashed to the floor. She was out cold.
Kelly stood there for a moment, watching Bella, before the tension went out of her and she relaxed. She turned to me. “Peter, get some towels. Bethany! Help me with your sister.” Bethany had stopped crying and had been watching the fight open-mouthed. She jumped to obey Kelly’s instructions. With more than a little effort, she and Kelly helped Bella into a chair. “Bella fought for you, you know. She might have been misguided but her heart was in the right place.” That was Kelly all round. Once the fight was over, she didn’t hold a grudge – particularly when she won. She was nothing if not gracious in victory. Emily appeared from behind the bar with a first aid box and with her help, we cleaned Bella up.
Emily fetched some strong coffee – I think it was probably laced with some brandy. Kelly coaxed Bella into taking a few sips of it as she slowly came to. “I hope you've learned the same lesson as your sister,” she warned sternly. “Don't cross me…ever. Cooperate, just like Bethany does now, and we'll get on well. Stand in my way though, and you’ll face the consequences.”
She turned to me. “Come, Peter. Take me home.” She took my arm, leaning on it more heavily than she had done earlier, and we walked out to the car.
I took her home. This time she didn’t leave me at the door. Just as on the night after she fought Alison, she rewarded me. Though she masked it well – this
was Kelly after all – she was a little stiff at first and I could tell that Bella had hurt her. I knew only too well how to soothe her aches and pains however, and soon she was my passionate, inventive Kelly again. We didn’t get much sleep that Saturday night.
THE END
again my huge thanks to the scribbler who helped turn this into a decent story
