Chapter 9

Cleo did not reach home until after eleven. She had hardly put her coat in the closet, when Mania called her from the top of the stairs.

"Mom, is that you?"

"Yes, Marna. I'm sorry to be so late. We had to work late."

"I know, Mom. A man named Seth Scott called here. I think he wants you to call him back."

"Tonight?" Cleo's mind was racing. She had seen Seth in the office less than an hour before. What could he possibly want now?

"Yes, and he said it was important. The number's on the pad beside the phone. He said he was at some kind of a club."

Mama neglected to tell her mother how pleased she had been that Seth Scott had called. It had given her the opportunity to set up a meeting for after school the next day. She and Mark could scarcely wait to see the man again.

Cleo went to the telephone and dialed the number on the pad. There were two rings, and then a voice answered. "Catnip Club. Who do you want?"

"Is Seth Scott there please?" "Yeah, he's sitting here at the bar. Just a minute."

In a moment, Seth's voice came over the phone. "Cleo, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. What do you want?"

"My, my, you don't sound happy to hear from me. Have you forgotten the great time we had fucking the other night?"

"No," Cleo said, her voice icy. "But I also remember the little scene we had in your father's office an hour ago."

"Don't tell me you're upset about that."

"Of course I'm upset about it, you blackmailer."

"Now, now, don't use words like that. I thought I made it clear I don't like to be called names."

"Well, what would you call yourself?"

"Someone who takes advantage of opportunities. But I didn't want to talk to you about what we should call me."

"Why did you call anyway?"

"To tell you I'm coming over."

"Come over? What for?"

"Can't you guess? For a little fucking, of course."

"Are you crazy? I wouldn't let you touch me after what happened tonight."

"Oh, I bet you will. I have a little deal to offer you."

"Deal? What kind of a deal?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, it's a little like the one I made with Dad tonight."

"What do you mean?" Cleo asked, suddenly afraid.

"Let me put it this way, Cleo. My old man's hot for you, right? Well, Baby, how do you think he'd feel if someone were to tell him that his favorite son got it on with you before he ever had a chance himself?"

"Seth, you wouldn't!"

"Of course I would. Tell me, Cleo, how long do you think it'll take you to find another job as good as the one you have now, especially after you've been fired."

"You sonofabitch!"

"Sometimes I think Dad's a bitch too, but I didn't know you did, particularly after tonight. Shall we fuck at your house, or do you want me to pick you up and take you out somewhere. I know a charming little bathhouse in the park."

"I... I don't know. Let me think. I'm not sure I can do this."

"Not sure you can do it? That's a laugh. You'll be fucking when you're four days dead. Just think about how long you can keep your kids fed without a job. See you in ten minutes." He hung up the phone.

Cleo stood there for a moment with the receiver in her hand, and then she hung it up. She could see no course of action but to go along with Seth Scott's demand. Being a secretary to the president >f a company paid well. It was a job she did not vant to lose.

There was nothing to do but give Seth what he ranted. Maybe it would not be so bad. It certainly had not been before. But then she had felt much differently about the young man.

Cleo went up the stairs. She had decided to find out whether Marna and Mark were asleep. If they were, she would tell Seth they could do their fucking here in the house.

It would certainly be more comfortable than wherever he wanted to take her in the park. Cleo felt like a whore, an unwilling whore.

She peeked into Mark's room. The boy was sound asleep, breathing heavily. He had kicked his blankets off and lay there in the nude, his legs flung wide apart and his prick half hard.

Cleo gazed at her son with pleasure. Her son was getting to be quite a man. For a brief second she wondered what his prick would feel like inside her, and then she put the thought out of her head. Cleo tiptoed into Mama's room. "Is that you, Mom?" the girl whispered. "Yes, dear. It is. I just wanted to tell you I have to go out for a little while."

"But it's awfully late. Where are you going?" "Just on an errand, Marna. Don't worry about it. I'll be back as soon as I can." "Okay, Mom. Good night." "Good night, dear."