Chapter 4
IF Al had flown into a jealous rage-called her a whore, beaten her up, walked out on her, she would have accepted his reaction-even respected him for it.
But he merely gazed at her in disbelief for a moment, then grinned broadly and said, "Baby, you surprise me. I didn't think you were game enough to pull it off."
She hated him for what he thought. She said nothing.
He went on, "Now that you've got your hooks into him the rest should be easy. Just play him along for a while-a couple of months, say-until he's really gone on you."
She stared at him with her hatred showing. "Damn .you, Al," she said bitterly. "Oh, damn you!"
He looked offended. "What did I do, for Pete's sake?"
"You're trying to make a hustler of me."
"You did that yourself."
"And you don't even care."
"Sure, I care," he said. "I don't like the idea of my wife playing around with another guy. But if it gets you a big job-"
"You think I asked him for-for payment?"
He shook his head. "Not payment," he said. "But you should ask him to do you a favor. It won't cost him a thing to set you up in a big-paying job. You can fill any spot he can give you. That's what you want, isn't it? To earn enough money so that we can make a decent-life for ourselves-a house in the suburbs and all that goes with it?"
"Brother, what a sales pitch that is." Well, you want better than what we've got, don't you?"
"Not if I have to earn it that way."
"Then why did you give in to him?" Al asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. The next instant his voice was harsh with anger. "You did it for kicks, eh? Damn it, Jan-I don't like that at all."
"I haven't done anything you haven't done."
He was unable to argue against an obvious truth.
He said disgustedly, "All right, let's forget the whole deal. And let's get some sleep."
"You can sleep after this?" Janice said incredulously. "All right, get some sleep-you would-be pimp I"
She reached out and switched off the lamp, then lay at the edge of her side of the bed-so no part of her touched him.
Her anger subsided. Soon she felt troubled and saddened. She did not like Al right now-or herself. His relaxed, barely audible breathing told her he was soundly asleep. She resented his being able to sleep. Nothing fazed him. True, he had been sore for a moment-but only because she had given herself to Jay Bolton with no intention of asking him for a better job.
What a heel he is, she thought, this man I'm married to ... Man?
Except in bed, he was hardly that. He did not earn enough to support her, to give her what every woman had a right to expect. What did he contribute to their marriage? He gave her companionship, yes. And physical love. But nothing more.
Some man....
She did have the American dream of living in the suburbs. She did want children. But she might as well give up such hopes-unless she did as he wanted.
And selling her body in business was more nightmare than dream.
With that bleak thought she finally drifted off into sleep.
She awoke at her usual time-just as sunlight poured in through her bedroom window-and decided that she could not face Jay Bolton today. For one thing, she would feel too embarrassed. For another, she might find herself wanting him again-either for kicks, as Al called it, or to get him to give her a better job. She was no longer sure of herself. Al had failed her and she was face to face with temptation. If Jay wanted her again-she might give herself to him in the hope of getting through her own efforts what Al was unable to give her. And she still found the thought distasteful.
She decided to report herself ill.
Office hours were from eight to five. Jay, who set his own hours, never got in before nine. She telephoned the personnel office a few minutes after eight.
For some reason she expected an argument from the girl at personnel. She got none. She realized, as she cradled the receiver, that she was in a nasty mood.
Al was still asleep. He would not be going to the lot until one in the afternoon. Janice made breakfast for herself, lingered over it, then set about giving the living room a cleaning-something she usually got to do only on Saturday mornings. She vacuumed the rug, waxed the floor about it, dusted the furniture. She worked steadily, energetically, keeping too busy to think. She was still at it when Al appeared, showered, shaved and dressed, at ten-thirty.
"What are you doing home?" he demanded.
He sounded as though he, too, were in a nasty mood.
"I didn't feel up to going to work today."
"Why didn't you?" he asked nastily. "Did that one session with Bolton tire you out?"
She came very close to saying, You know better than that-no man can tire me out....
But she did not want a fight and said instead, "I wasn't in the mood to face him."
Al's handsomely weak face hardened-suddenly he did not look weak at all. He looked as though he were capable of violence.
"So you won't take advantage of the break you've got," he said harshly. "You're going to be high-principled, whoring and stupid, are you? How do you figure a combination like that?"
"I just need time to think."
"What's there to think about?" he demanded. "Only a dumb dame gives away what she could ask value for." He walked to her, put his face close to hers and said, "You'd better quit giving it away and get something for it-or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else you'll wake up one morning and find out that I've walked out on you."
She stared at him. "Al, you wouldn't? After what you told me?"
"Wouldn't I?" he said. "Don't be too sure of that." He went to the closet, got out his jacket. His face was still stiff with anger. "You think it over. And while you're at it, figure out how much you've got to gain and how much to lose."
He went to the door, opened it.
Janice was suddenly panicky-she did not want to lose Al-not while she felt as confused and self-castigating as she did.
She said, "Al, don't you want me to fix breakfast for you?"
"I don't want you to do anything for me," he said flatly. "It might go against your stupid principles."
He went out, slamming the door behind him.
Janice sank into a chair, covered her face with her hands and, for the first time in years, had a good cry. Next she found herself just plain mad. Al had no business taking the attitude he did. If he wanted to break up their marriage, there were more civilized ways of doing so than his just walking out on her.
She would have it out with him when he got home tonight. She would refuse point-blank to do as he wanted. She would not sell herself to any man.
She went resolutely back to her cleaning-and did the entire apartment.
She finished shortly after two o'clock, took a leisurely bath, put on lounging pajamas. She remembered buying them because she had thought Al would like her in them-now she hoped they would help to bring back some of the warmth of her old feeling for him. They were of Italian silk, the pants a shimmering black and the jacket a shocking pink. The sleek, thin fabric clung to her, as though in love with her body, revealing tantalizingly what it covered.
The outfit did restore her morale-up to a point.
Still, she felt the need of a drink and fixed herself a rum cola. She settled herself in the living room with it and a magazine. She had barely tasted the drink when the buzzer sounded. She tried to ignore it. Someone very persistent had his finger on the button down in the foyer. She placed her drink and the magazine on the coffee table, went to the intercom.
"Who is it?"
"Jay Bolton, Janice. May I come up?" She thought wildly, Oh, no ... Janice-"Yes, Jay."
"May I see you just for a moment, please?" She told herself, I ought to say no....
She said aloud, "Well-for a moment-" and pressed the button that unlocked the inner door downstairs.
Damn it, why was she frightened? Or was she merely caught up by a vast embarrassment? If so, Jay had more reason than she to feel both embarrassment and guilt. He was now the pursuer. All she had to do was send him packing, tell him yesterday had been the first and last time she had cheated on Al.
She opened the door to Jay Bolton. His eyes swept over her and she stepped back quickly, then closed the door.
She faced him.
He said, "I had to come. When I found the other girl at your desk this morning, I was badly shaken. You're angry with me, aren't you?"
She shook her head. "Not at all. I'm just being sensible. What happened yesterday mustn't happen again. In fact-it can't happen-not for the same reason. Whether you can understand that or not-you've got to believe me."
"I do," he said. "But come back-be there tomorrow. You promised that what happened wouldn't hurt you. I could never forgive myself if it did-if it cost you your job."
"Coming back could cost me more. I think something happened yesterday that I hadn't bargained for."
She flushed at her use of the word "bargain"-was it a subconscious reflection of Al's attitude? She hoped Jay would not misconstrue it.
His handsome face was gloomy. "I'm not sure I understand you-but come back, Janice. I want you with me, need you with me."
She said desperately, "Can't you see, Jay-that I'm all upset?"
He looked pained-then his eyes widened. "Of course you are-and so am I. How could either of us feel otherwise?"
Abruptly he reached for her. She tried first to avoid, then to resist him. She even thought briefly of screaming-but deep in her awareness she knew she would not. What would be the point? She might get help from neighbors-someone might even call the police.
More likely-if she screamed even a tiny bit-Jay would let her go.
But did she want him to let her go? She had enjoyed yesterday's intimacy with him-and Al wouldn't mind what she did now, provided Jay paid off. And Jay was certainly asking for a compromising situation-coming right here to her apartment and obviously wanting to make love to her.
And what am I asking for?
The question fled through her mind as she let Jay's arms draw her to him.
"I shouldn't have come here, I suppose," he said. "It's risky, I suppose. But I didn't come to compromise you further-"
Her blood stirred at his touch-at the whole macabre situation. Actually she was safer with Jay's arms around her than she would be resisting him-if Al learned about the situation.
She shook her head slowly at Jay.
"You're running no risk," she told him. "At least-not the obvious one. Al-my husband-won't be home for hours."
"What are you trying to tell me?"
She shook her head again. "Nothing, Jay."
She was suddenly aware only of his arms around her, of the accelerating beat of her heart. In a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, tensions and excitements she recognized one-a thrust of desire.
She clung to its familiarity. Why not? Who cared? Not Al. And Jay seemed heedless of peril to himself.
He kissed her hungrily, greedily, ran his hands caressingly down over her back to her hips.
She slipped her arms about his neck and accepted his mouth with hers. Her body, almost of its own volition, began to squirm against Jay's long, hard frame.
Her flesh was weak; she had always known it and-until Al had belittled her defenses on that long-ago, rainy Sunday afternoon-had guarded against its weakness. Now no reason remained for defenses. She wanted Jay with all her volatile being-wildly, wantonly.
Why fight it?