Chapter 8
Nothing could remain as it was.
A machine had been wound, a fuse had been lit, a bomb had been triggered.
For exactly three weeks four couples lived as if they were teetering on the brink of a great change in their lives, without ever knowning it. And when the change did come, some hardly realized it at first.
The place: the Tri-Compass Club. A company-run country club for the staff and its guests. A big club house centered on broad green lawns. Two bars, three dining rooms, a large dance floor, guest rooms. A swimming pool, a wading pool, game courts, a golf course, the works.
The time: the annual End-of-Summer Dance, a hot evening in late September.
Swimmers splash about in the brightly lit pool. Drinkers crowd about the table and into the booths. Dancers circle about the dance floor.
And George West holds Fern Lancing in his arms.
At that particular moment, still comparatively early in the evening, George was the only one who had any idea of what was to come. He was already a little high and more than a little excited.
As they danced, he held the copper-headed girl close and yet managed to look down into her low-cut black dress, thinking that soon he might very well have his hands on those high, round boobs. He'd never before dared to approach certain women; he'd kept his chasing away from the company and the club. But having learned what had happened at the cabin, he saw this as too good a chance to be missed.
Any or all of the three women involved might be his.
Fern looked up at him with shocked eyes. "Chuck told you what?"
"He told me about the whole party. You know what I mean."
"No! No, I don't!"
George chuckled with good humor. "Oh, come off of it, Fern. We're both adults, I'm not shocked. So you all had a little fun, especially Daisy and Ben and Chuck. So what? It was all between friends, wasn't it?"
From Fern's look, George thought for a minute that he was wrong. Chuck, who had been drinking heavily, had told the story, seemingly because he needed to get it off of his chest. But maybe the guy was putting him on, maybe the guy had an overly active imagination.
But then Fern said, panic in her voice, "What exactly did Chuck tell you?"
"Oh, all about your naked moonlight swim, about everybody getting pretty high and pretty excited, about how Daisy finally took on Ben and Chuck while the rest of you stood around and watched."
Fern's eyes were wild. She looked as if she were about to bolt away from him, and he held her tightly.
"Hey, take it easy, kid," he said gently. "I'm not about to tell the story all around, you ought to know that. Why, I think the world of you and Ben. And he's one of the main candidates to take over the managership of my department when I step up. You don't think I'd tell anything that would hurt old Ben, do you?"
She didn't answer, and he hung onto her and kept her dancing. After a couple of minutes he could feel her sweet young body relaxing aganst him. That meant the first stage was passed successfully.
His logic was simple. Perhaps too simple. He figured that any woman who watched her husband take another woman, or who took another man in front of her husband, could be had. Especially if her husband's career was in the balance. And he figured that a woman like Fern who knew that her husband had had a thrill on the side would want to even the balance.
"You know," he said softly, "if Ben gets the promotion, we'll be working together, closer than ever."
"That's nice," Fern said weakly.
"We should all be much closer friends."
"We're already friends, aren't we, George?"
"Certainly we are. That's why I think I can talk frankly to you, Fran. You don't mind if I ask a question, do you?"
"What's that?"
"After you saw Ben and Daisy make love, what did you do to even the score?"
"Why-nothing."
"Nothing? An intelligent, spirited girl like you?"
"I don't feel there's any score to even, George. Chuck sort of exaggerated things!"
George laughed. "Tell me the truth. You have thought about evening the score, haven't you."
"No!" Fern's voice was small and frightened, and he saw that she had trouble swallowing.
"But if you did, you could even things up and-ah-shall we say, improve Ben's chances of advancement at the same time. Have you thought about that?"
Fern stared at him.
"Yes, that's right, Fern," he said softly.
"George, are you propositioning me?"
"Let's just say that Ben and Daisy enjoyed themselves. And I, for one, see no reason why you shouldn't do the same thing."
"With you."
He laughed again and threw her words back at her: "Fern, are you propositioning me?"
They danced for a minute in silence, and he thought he had the deal made.
"You're putting me on the spot," she said.
"Now, don't look at it that way."
"I do look at it that way. You're saying I should get even with Ben and help him get his promotion at the same time by sleeping with you."
"I'm merely suggesting we should get to be better friends. It's done all the time."
"But not by me." Her voice was rising and he hoped she'd hold it down. "I'm not pretending to be lily-pure, George, and I do want Ben to get that promotion. But I'm married to Ben and not to his career. And even if I were willing to give some things away, I still wouldn't sell them. In other words, no, George. I will not accommodate you."
His face stung. "Fern," he began dangerously.
"And please don't ask me again. Let's forget all about this little conversation, shall we?"
He burned. He'd been so sure of his game. And who was she, a woman who'd done what she'd done, to take a high-hat tone with him?
He might have said something he'd later regret, but at that moment Chuck lurched up, Edna at his elbow.
"Cuttin' in, ol' man," he said with a thick tongue. "Your turn with lil ol' Edna."
Fern turned eagely to Chuck, and they moved away while George stared after them.
"Hey, have you forgotten me?" he heard Edna say.
He turned to her. He held out his arms, and she glided into them, smiling at him. He smiled back. "No, I haven't forgotten you," he said.
Inez West sat with Able Crowell at a table-for-two in one of the bars. She was drunk, and she knew she was drunk, yet she didn't feel drunk. And to her that was miserable.
She liked Able. She could sit quietly with him; he didn't feel the need to keep up a running conversation. Neither was he discomfited by her own lapses into silence. She suspected that he had his own burden of problems and somehow, sitting together, they shared their troubles without ever speaking of them openly or directly.
But Inez was feeling an increasing need to tell someone what bothered her.
She looked out from their little circle of light by the wall, trying to locate George. He was nowhere in sight, which was hardly unusual. Whenever they went to a dance or a party she generally saw very little of him from beginning to end. She'd almost reached the point where she liked it that way.
But tonight she wanted to see George. She wanted to keep him in sight. She didn't want to believe that he was extending his territory for skirt-chasing to the Tri-Compass Club. That would be the limit: too much for her to take. People already gave her that humiliating poor-thing look, and far more would do so if he started playing around this close to home.
Unfortunately she saw the signs. She knew George better than anyone, and when he got a certain hungry look in his eyes and his gaze began to linger on to the women in a certain way, she knew what he was after.
And she'd noticed him looking like that earlier in the evening.
Hence she was drunk and getting drunker. She was glad that Able was nearby because he was sympathetic and because, she admitted the truth to herself, she needed a man.
George had given her no loving at all since that frustrating night three weeks ago, and now she sat here and simmered, her legs all but aching with want. She wondered about Able and Daisy. Did he ever leave his wife in the condition that she was in? She doubted that he did. She had a feeling that Able satisfied Daisy's longings at least a couple of times a week. Probably tonight when the two got home and were ready for bed they would touch each other and get excited.
Inez shut her eyes tightly, trying to keep her fantasies from getting started.
"Something the matter?" Able asked.
"No. Nothing." She knew that a perceptive person might guess what was bothering her, and she tried to divert Able's attention from her. "I imagine you're pretty much in suspense about the promotion, aren't you?"
He shrugged and smiled. "I don't suppose you can give me some inside dope?"
"I honestly don't know, Able; George doesn't tell me an awful lot about what goes on at the office."
"So making time with my boss's wife doesn't do me any good."
"I'm afraid not."
Nothing did Able any good these days as far as he was concerned. At the office everything was going to pot, and he figured that if he'd ever had any chance of getting the promotion, he'd pretty well blown it. The ironic thing was that his relationship with Daisy had made getting the promotion imperative at the same time that it had made getting it virtually impossible.
He didn't know when he'd ever been more depressed, and his depression naturally affected his work. He had a feeling that everybody at the office knew that he was on the skids. And Daisy urged him to work for the promotion at the same time that she broke down his ego. Sometimes he thought that unconsciously she actually wanted him to fail.
They hadn't made love since the night that she'd taken on Ben and Chuck.
Not that he hadn't tried. He'd tried time and time again, but she'd consistently refused to receive him.
At first she'd made excuses: she wasn't in the mood; she was too tired. But finally, a few nights ago, when he'd been so frustrated that he'd practically tried to rape her, the truth had come out, or at least a part of the truth.
"Go ahead!" she'd said angrily as he'd held her naked body pinned to the bed. "Go ahead and force me if that'll make you feel more like a man. But it won't make you a real man!"
"Like Ben, you mean? Like Chuck?"
"You said it, I didn't!"
Wearily he relaxed his grip on her. His excitement was already fading away. "So that's what you think of me. Because of what happened that night, I'm no longer enough of a male for you."
She looked at him worriedly. "Not just that night, Able. I thought you understood. The worst thing you did was too make a fool of yourself by making a pass at Edna. All I want you to do is to prove that you're as good as Ben and Chuck."
"By getting the promotion."
"Yes."
"And then we'll be lovers again."
She smiled slightly and stroked his arm. "We'll make love like we never have before in our lives."
"This is your idea of giving me some extra incentive?"
"If you really want me, this should be a pretty good incentive."
He thought about that. What if she were right? Was it possible that his love was crumbling away as a result of what had happened at the cabin and of her recent coolness toward him?
He didn't try to answer the question.
"Baby, I hate to tell you," he said softly, "but I see very little chance of my getting that promotion. I never did see much chance."
Her face hardened. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Love you for yourself?"
"You might try. I once thought you did love me for myself."
She didn't answer She stared at him for a long moment, then rolled away, mumbling four words: "You get that promotion."
And so things stood. Actually he didn't blame Daisy as much as he might have. He considered himself to be something of a fool for having fallen apart simply because of the way a couple of women had behaved. He would never have guessed that his ego was so vulnerable.
He looked at Inez West. He liked the way her Mack hair was pulled back tightly from her high, wide forehead. He thought her eyes were exceptionally striking, and he liked her high cheekbones and her strong jaw. And of course her complexion and figure could hardly be faulted.
The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them: "You know, you're really an extraordinarily lovely woman."
He felt as startled by his words as she looked. She stared at him and flushed.
"What in the world made you say that?"
"I don't know. I guess I didn't have any right, but somehow the words just came out of my mouth."
"Well, I'm glad that they did."
For a few seconds he could have sworn that she was going to cry. Then suddenly, for no apparent reason, they both laughed.
"Would you like to dance?" he asked.
"I'd love to."
They didn't notice Edna and George sitting side by side in a round corner booth, and Edna held her breath until the pair had passed.
So Able was trying to score points with the boss's wife, she thought. Well, a fat lot of good that was going to do him in advancing his career. Edna knew a better way. For Chuck's sake, she would score points with the boss himself.
George hadn't noticed Able and Inez either, she was relieved to see. His attention was altogether on her, which was exactly what she wanted. She'd never expected to have an opportunity like this, and she certainly wasn't going to pass it up.
Under the table, George's left hand rested warmly on her right thigh, and she could discern each of the four fingers that pressed through her skirt to indent her sensitive flesh. Now and then the hand moved up and down her leg slightly, sending ripples of desire through her.
For some time she pretended not to notice the hand. She'd heard rumors that George was a chaser Who hadn't heard them? But she'd never noticed any real evidence of the fact, and he'd never touched her the way he was touching her tonight. Neither had she touched him or even thought of doing so.
Now she did both.
As casually as she could, she let her hand drift over under the table and settle upon George's hard-muscled leg just above the knee. She felt a tremor go through him.
"I'm glad we're getting better acquainted, Edna," he said. "After all, Chuck may be stepping into my shoes within a few days, and I feel that we should be much closer friends, don't you?"
His words excited her as much as his touch. "Has a final decision been made?" she asked, trying to sound interested but not eager.
"No, not yet. I'll have the major say in the selection of the man, of course, and I've got to be very sure I pick the right person. And in modern industry the right person for a managerial position should have the right kind of wife, as I'm sure you can understand."
She moved her fingers against his thigh. "Certainly," she said, "but what do you think the right kind of wife should be like?"
"Understanding ... personable ... sociable. He returned her caresses. "Cooperative, naturally. And she should look on the people for whom her husband works as her friends. Even have a certain affection for them, if that's possible. Life at the executive level is a pretty intimate thing. I mean, people get to know each other very well, and they should behave like one big family, if that doesn't sound too trite."
"I don't think that's trite at all. I think that's quite reasonable."
"I'm glad we see eye to eye on that. Frankly, I don't think I'd feel quite right about pushing Chuck for the job unless, to some extent, you and I shared a common philosophy. I feel that executives and their wives should share a lot of things, not only their work. They should share their pleasures as well. What do you think?"
"Oh, I quite agree. If you and I couldn't sit here like this and share a few drinks and some conversation and generally feel good about being together, Chuck would certainly be the wrong person for you to choose."
His fingers worked against her, and she moved her hand farther up on his leg. They were rapidly dropping any pretense, and she had a longing for him to touch her more intimately, and to do the same to him.
"I think we understand each other," he said calmly, though she was sure that he was no more calm than she was.
How far did he intend to go, she wondered.
And, just as much to the point, how far did she intend to go? But for the moment she avoided answering that question.
The important thing was that, quite unexpectedly, she'd been given an opportunity to make sure that Chuck was promoted. She must be careful not to alienate George. If he wanted to feel her leg, that was all right. That was a small price to pay for what she wanted. She was even quite wililng to feel George's leg if that would make him favor Chuck.
She might even be willing to go a little farther, for instance, to do a little heavy petting. Chuck would never know. Other people, she knew, did such things, and Chuck would only be helped.
And if she were to do such a thing for George, would that be any worse than what Chuck had done to Daisy Crowell? The memory of that little episode still rankled Edna. Maybe this was a chance for her to undo the damage she'd accused her husband of doing.
She took a deep breath. "I shouldn't admit it," she said, "but I think I've drunk a little too much. I think I could use a little fresh air."
"Why certainly, Edna," George said solicitously. "Why don't we got for a little walk outside?"
"I'd like that."
They slid out of the booth, and she led the way from the bar, he at her elbow. As they went through the brightly lighted main lobby, she managed to look into the ballroom, but she didn't see Chuck. She hoped that he wouldn't see her either. They walked out the front door, trying to look more casual than Edna felt.
Nothing's going to happen, she thought as they walked into the darkness of outdoors. If he tries to kiss me, that's nothing. I'll let him. What's a kiss? If he starts petting, that's fine. If he wants me to pet him to the limit, why not?
But, she thought, maybe she shouldn't go beyond that.
Still, that afternoon with Ben had been such fun.
And if she'd gotten even with Chuck once, why shouldn't she have some fun just one more time? Especially since doing so would help Chuck's career? And since Chuck hadn't been the first man to take her, what did it matter, really, if she now had just one more?
She walked close to George in the darkness, paying little attention to where they were heading. She missed the feel of his hand on her thigh.
Then he stopped, turned toward her, and pulled her close to him. From knee to shoulder they met, and her head automatically tilted back. A hard mouth came down upon her soft lips.
For an instant . pretended to struggle, not too hard. Then she melted against him. She could feel ; excitement pounding at her through their clothing, and that aroused her all the more.
"Oh, George!" she said breathlessly.
He still held her close. "Maybe I shouldn't have done that," he said.
"Oh, I think I understand. Sometimes two people meet, and they have a special kind of attraction for each other. They seem to shame a-special kind of...."
"Of need for each other?"
"Yes. And what good are friends that can't express their needs?"
She had hardly said the words when she realized that she'd practically told him that she was willing to go all the way. If that was what he wanted to do, she hardly dared to back out now.
His arms tightened around her again, and again their mouths met, this time their tongues touching. Passion flared in her.
And now she hoped that he would want to go all the way.
"Where can we go," she said, "to sit down?"
"Come on."
Then she realized that they were quite near the club parking lot. They were standing on a lawn by some shrubbery that blocked the widely separated lights of the lot An arm around her shoulder, George led her through ranks of cars until he came to a big black Caddy.
He opened a back door and said, "Get in."
"In the back?"
"There's more room."
She climbed into the back of the car, thinking, He's going to love me! He's going to open my clothes and his and....
George climbed in beside her and closed the door as quietly as possible. The moment he turned to her, they slipped into each other's arms.
She hoped he wouldn't make her wait too long; she was already keyed up and had been for quite some time now. If she was going to have him, she wanted to do so as soon as possible.
He didn't disappoint her. As they kissed, he pushed her skirt up on her legs and his fingers were on her bare flesh for the first time. They slid about, making her flames roar higher. The next thing she knew, he was pulling at the buttons on the front of her dress.
She put up a token resistance.
"George, you shouldn't!"
"I only want to see you, to touch you."
"I know, and I want you to, George, but just the same-"
His lips pressed on hers again, and she allowed his fingers to go farther. SeveraJ buttons came undone, and then his fingers were sliding over her bare ribs, making her tingle and smolder. He raised his hand and pushed three fingers into the top of her cleavage, then slid them from' side to side over the smooth bowls.
Not long after that, she allowed him to pull the bra up and both globes emerged into the open. Rough male lips traveled over their smoothness. She felt a tongue and then teeth against one stiff, pink nipple. Fingers delicately plucked at the other nipple, drawing and twisting, and then a hand was sliding about her bare legs again, making her pant with want.
This was so exciting, she thought. A number of times after her afternoon with Ben she'd told herself that she would never again cheat; she'd never again take on a man other than Chuck. Now she was glad that she was wrong. George was thrilling her as much as Ben had.
After Chuck got his promotion, George might want further payments. He might want her to meet him periodically in the future. Right now Edna didn't care. She was so aflame that she hoped he would want her again in the days to come. She might have to pay for the promotion on the installment plan, but she couldn't think of a more delightful way of doing so.
"Oh, George!"
"Yes, lovely?"
"You're making me so excited!"
"Don't you like to be excited?"
"Oh, yes! Yes."
She wiggled her hips, and his fingers slid against silk. He knew what to do next, and she gave him no trouble at all as he slid the material over her hips and then down her legs. His hand wandered over her delightfully contracting stomach and around her thighs.
For a moment she kept them pressed tightly together. Then she relaxed and let him go where he wanted and do as he pleased.
And what pleased him pleased her as well, until she was gasping with a hunger for him that was maddening.
"Oh, George!" she moaned, and she reached for his belt buckle.
A minute later he was as available to her. She stroked, cupped, cradled, and twisted, crazing herself as much as she was crazing him.
"Darling," she said softly and longingly, "you're so strong!"
"And you're so sweet."
"You're strong, so male!"
"You're so desirable."
"Do you desire me, George?"
"More than anything else in the world."
"Am I making you feel good?"
"Wonderful. And you?"
"You're driving me mad, George. Oh, darling!"
They wrestled in the darkness of the back seat, holding and stroking each other until Edna knew that she couldn't wait any longer. She tightened the fingers that held him.
"Darling, shall I make you finish?"
"No."
He pulled, her hand away from his body, pushed her farther onto her back, and got over her. She shifted one leg out of his way.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, knowing perfectly well.
"I'm going to take you," he said huskily. "We shouldn't, we shouldn't!"
"We should!" He brought her hand to his hard body again. "Don't you want me?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Take me, darling! Take me!"
She raised her hips slightly and drew him to where she wanted him. There was a moment of burning, tingling contact, and he started moving closer. He pulled away, then slid closer yet, and then she had him.
"Oh, darling, darling!" she whispered, gripping him with all her strength.
But she wasn't gripping George West only. She was also gripping the promotion which she intended Chuck to have. That, in the last analysis, was the important thing: Chuck's advancement in his career and her advancement right along with him as his wife. This pleasure which she was experiencing was wonderful, but it was transitory. The job was something permanent.
For the moment, however, Edna thought no more about the promotion. She thought no more about her long-range reason for giving in to George West. She gave herself up to the experience of rising to meet his rapid thrusts as they traveled toward the moment of climactic joy.
This was too much, Inez Read West thought.
While dancing with Able Crowell she'd thought she'd seen George leaving the building with some woman; she hadn't gotten enough of a look to see who.
She'd tried to kid herself that the departure meant nothing, though her experience told her otherwise. She'd danced with Able until another man had cut in; she'd had a couple of drinks; she'd danced some more. And waited.
She hadn't been able to keep from waiting, however hard she'd tried to divert her mind to other matters. And now she saw George coming back into the building, George and Edna Graham.
The moment she laid eyes on them she knew what had happened. She would have known even if she hadn't seen them depart and return again. Almost anyone would have known, or so Inez thought, by a glance at the slack, exhausted faces and the very way that the pair walked. She knew George well enough to be able to tell that he had given Edna two lovings. No more or less.
She knew.
Yes, this was too much. When she'd hired a detective before, she'd failed to obtain the evidence she needed, but this time she wouldn't hire a detective. She would talk to her father, Thompson Read, tonight. He would know what to do. He would act quickly and surely, and in a day or a month George would be through. Done. Washed up. With her, with the company, with her father. She could be almost sorry for her ex-husband-to-be when she thought of just how washed up he would be.
Poor skirt-chasing George.
Her father never had really liked the man.