Chapter 5
"COFFEE," SAID SEBASTIAN, "makes mornings bearable." He raised his cup and took a sip. He was sitting with Earl and Ellen in a small coffee shop on West Third Street. It was ten o'clock, the morning after his fight with Tom. He was going to see Cynthia at eleven, and had time to kill.
"We're going to Boston tomorrow and get some money," he said. "Should be coming right back. Want to come along?"
"Yeah, might's well," Earl said. He felt no animosity toward Sebastian now, even gratitude because of the fight.
"I have to work," Ellen said, "But you may use my car if you like. Better than waiting for a bus. Get you back to me quicker." She squeezed Earl's hand.
Dreggs had spent the night with her. Although they had slept together, he had not made love to her. Not all the way. Ellen was a virgin.
"That would be fine," said Wolff. "If you don't need it."
"I won't need it," she said. "I owe you a favor for getting rid of Tom. I was so afraid that he would come over afterward and break in the door and cause a scene. Or attack Earl."
She smiled at Dreggs. "Earl is so much nicer," she said.
"Don't worry about Tom, he probably hasn't awakened yet," Wolff said. It was evident that he was not boasting, just confident. "I'm pretty sure his jaw went."
"You really hit him," Earl said. "It shamed me, I should have been able to do something."
"The evils of drink," Sebastian said.
There was snow again, just a few flakes. The weather was warmer, and people were walking by in considerable numbers, getting the benefit of one of the last nice days. Wolff decided he would walk to Cynthia's office, a few blocks uptown. He said goodbye to the others and left.
"He's quite a person," Ellen said.
"Yes, quite a person. He's the one whom Ginny loves."
"I guessed that from the conversation. Aren't you mad at him? Or jealous, after all he did take your girl."
"It was all for the better. Now I have you instead. Anyway, I can't be mad at Sebastian over a woman. That's just the was he is. If I stole a woman from him he wouldn't be angry either."
"I imagine," said Ellen, "that Mr. Wolff has more women than he can handle."
Earl grinned, "I don't know about him, but he has more than any other man could handle. What is there about him? You're a woman, you must be able to see what makes him so irresistable."
She wrinkled her brow. "It's hard to say. I think maybe it's his voice. When he speaks, I almost shudder. And I don't even love him, I love you." Earl smiled at this. A nice person, Ellen, not wanting to talk about Wolff without making Earl feel desirable too.
She said, "And his eyes, those eyes seem to know everything in the world. What a hypnotist he would make. He's sort of an ideal image, the dream-fantasy lover that every woman wants. He's masculine and he's very assured, yet he gives the impression that he could be gentle." She stopped, somewhat ashamed of having noticed all these things.
Earl said, "Well, he can have all the women in the world, as long as I have you, Ellie."
She smiled. She was certainly not the type for Sebastian Wolff, and she would never be his.
Except, perhaps, in a dream.
Sebastian walked leisurely up the Avenue of the Americas. It was Sunday, and all the offices would be closed. He could imagine Cynthia, alone in the building, waiting for him and thinking how best she could act indifferent when he entered. How silly women are, he thought. How could any man ever be fooled by a woman? like Earl. Sebastian felt no remorse about Ginny, he figured that Earl was well rid of her. And that any woman was fair game, it was u pto their husbands and lovers to hold them. He, himself, would not have minded if a woman had been unfaithful to him. He thought.
None ever had.
Sebastian stopped to light a cigarette and admire a pretty girl going by. She smiled at him and flipped her hips, and he almost followed her. But
Cynthia was waiting.
Funny how another man's woman is more desirable. I wouldn't feel half as much passion for Cynthia if she weren't married. I wonder if all men are like this, or just me. I'll have to ask Earl how he feels about it. He's the only guy I know, come to think of it. Must be something wrong with me. Or right.
He came to the right address and entered. The elevator was not working Sundays and he walked up five flights, reminding himself that he should get some exercise. He found the right door and entered the office without knocking.
It was a waiting room. Sebastian crossed it and opened the door on the other side. Cynthia was there. She had short blonde hair, regular features, a nice body in an expensive tweed suit.
She was sitting behind a desk, looking at him quizzically. She said, "I wasn't sure you'd come."
"I couldn't pass up the chance to see you," he said, going over to the desk and sitting on it.
"You did two years ago. I was so mad, Sebastian. After what happened at the party. And some of the women noticed the condition of the bed, and somebody's coat. They knew something had happened, the question was who had it been. I was very indignant along with them, of course."
"Yes, that was quite an evening."
"Not good enough for a repeat, though?"
"Well, I can explain that. I've been in jail, you see. They arrested me that very night, wouldn't let me call you, it was awful."
"Enough of your lies. I've forgotten it by now ... almost. But if you had come around the next month, I would have turned you down so fast that..."
Sebastian swung his legs around the desk; grasped Cynthia's hair in one hand and bent her back. He said, "No woman ever turns Sebastian Wolff down. Ever."
Cynthia winced. He let her hair go, but she kept her head back. She said, "I believe you, Sebastian Wolff. No woman could."
"Good. You're looking very nice, Cynthia," Sebastian said, kissing her on the mouth, lightly. He opened the envelope he was carrying. "These are the poems. Any or all, I don't care where and I don't care about the money, just so they're printed."
Cynthia skimmed the several sheets. She said, "These are very adequate. No trouble to sell them, if money's no problem. Typical college stuff. Who is she?"
Wolff grinned. "The girl I'm going to marry."
"The poor bitch," Cynthia said.
Wolff kissed her again, longer this time, letting his lips linger on hers. Her tongue moved in his mouth, a darting flame playing along the roof. When they parted, both were breathing hard.
Sebastian unbuttoned her jacket, her blouse. Her fingers moved in his shirt, along his chest. He removed her bra and she stood up, a thin body but large breasts, pink upturned nipples. She cupped her hands beneath them and raised them to Sebastian. He met them with his mouth lightly brushing the tips, which stiffened and swelled in response.
Cynthia unfastened her skirt and it fell to the floor. She stood before him clad only in panties. He kissed her once more.
"Remember at the party," she said, breathless, "What you did? Under the coats."
Sebastian nodded, moving his lips along her neck, down to her shoulder, back to her breasts.
"Do it to me again. Do it now," she said.
Wolff lifted her and sat her on the desk, her legs over the edge. He pulled her panties down slowly, letting his fingers trail on her inner thighs. She fell back on her elbows, eyes shut in ecstasy, as he pulled them over her feet; tossed them aside.
Sebastian's mouth moved on her legs, above the knees, up her thighs, very slowly. Cynthia's whole body shuddered.
Then he buried his face in her flesh, and she ground her body to him savagely. She moaned in unendurable pleasure as Sebastian brought her to the peak of desire.
"Take me," she cried.
Sebastian rose, his clothes open. Cynthia was stretched out on the desk top. He stood close ... she cried with pleasure, forced herself to him, writhed with desire. They ground together, Cynthia lying on her back, Sebastian standing.
"Oh," she said, "Oh..."
At the window the snow began falling faster. The flakes beat harder at the pane, faster.
And swirling faster. Harder.
The storm broke.
In one moment of blinding fury. And then ended again.
Sebastian relaxed against the desk, watching the flakes fall, feeling very calm.
Cynthia dressed carefully and slowly. Sebastian rested in the chair behind her desk. She said, "No man can ever really satisfy me after you. I felt the same way after the party. God, how disappointed I was when you didn't show up the next day. I thought I'd go crazy, I wanted you so bad. My husband couldn't understand what had happened, the poor bastard couldn't even start to satisfy me. He thought that I was passionate because I loved him. I do love him ... but it's you I want. I wish I hadn't had you now, I'll be crazy for a month." She paused and finished dressing.
"Will you come again?" she asked, when she was finished.
"Yes," he said, "I'll come again." "Often?"
"As often as I please. That depends on how good you are."
"Was I good today?"
"Very good, I like a passionate woman. The panting, clawing kind. You were very good, Cindy."
She went over and kissed him. "Don't make me wait long," she said. "I couldn't stand it." With a laugh, she added, "Neither could my husband. He's a once-a-week man. I'll probably kill him this week, trying to achieve what I had with you."
"My secret," Sebastian said, "Is powdered rhino horn. From the Orient, seventy dollars an ounce."
"This," said Cynthia, putting her hand on him, "Is your secret."
Sebastian laughed. A very direct woman, this Cynthia.
She promised to sell the poems within the next week, if Sebastian would promise to see her again within a few days. She said, "I know how an addict must feel, wanting a fix. I'll be wanting you so bad that I'll do anything."
"I'll be around," he said, and left.
The brief snow flurry had left a thin covering on the streets. Wolff walked back downtown, leaving footprints. Thinking that life was pretty good as long as you lived it.
He had Chris, whom he loved. He had Ginny, whose body was the greatest he could imagine, who went to the ultimate with him and for him. He had Cynthia, whose passion would match anyone's, who had money to spare. He thought perhaps he might even add Ellen for variety. A virgin type would provide a little conquest. Not bad for only having been here a week or so, he thought. It pays to know people.
He took his time, stopping to look in shop windows and to watch the multitudes of people passing by, each concerned with his own problems, his own life, his own loves. Sebastian could not identify with these people. He smiled at them, thinking the poor fools, they just don't know what the world is all about.
When he got home Chris was waiting. He said, "It's pretty well set, the agent is sure he can sell your stuff. Should be in print to give your father along with a wedding announcement."
She kissed him, throwing her arms around his neck. "I still can't believe we're going to be married," she said. "I hardly care about the poems, even. Just you. Even without any money, living in a shack with you I'd be happy."
He slapped her on the bottom.
"I've got a car for tomorrow, we can drive to
Boston."
"Good," she said.
"Earl's coming."
Chris looked disappointed for a second. "I'd rather go alone with you," she said.
"Yeah, well it's his girl's car so that's that," Sebastian explained with a shrug.
"The girl you mentioned last night?" "Yes."
"I hope you have no designs on her." "She's too thin. Cow-eyed." "I'm thin." She pouted.
Sebastian squeezed her on the bottom, looked thoughtful, said: "No, she's thinner than you. Less padding."
"Bastard," said Christine, "Don't let me catch you squeezing her tail. And don't let me see that Ginny or I'll scratch her eyes out. You're all mine."
"Well, I don't know. I had to let the agent have my body today for a guarantee she'd sell your stuff. It's a woman agent."
"Why do you tell me all these wild stories, you know I get jealous even though I know they're not true?"
"Um-m-m," said Sebastian.
Chris went to the kitchen. She called, "What do you want for dinner, Sebastian?"
"You," he said.
She came back into the room. Sat on the floor beside Wolff's chair and put her head in his lap. She asked, "Did you ever do that to another woman?"
"Never," said Sebastian.