Chapter Six
Six
She drops onto the bed.
She falls backward, closing her eyes.
She’s going to take a minute. Take a minute and just…unclench.
They’re fine. It’s nothing.
It was always nothing!
He must be so annoyed with her right now.
She’s not going to think about that. No. She’s going to lie here and enjoy the relief spreading through her, rinsing through her veins, warm and velvety. Velvet doesn’t rinse. So what? She can mix her metaphors. Because it was always nothing!
Oh thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you, fire safety director.
She keeps her eyes closed. It conveys a pleasant illusion of concealment. She’s just going to lie here and…
She feels the mattress move.
He’s sitting down.
He’s close to her, he’s even…is he…
Yes. He’s stretching out beside her.
Is that a good sign, or is he better positioning himself to strangle her? Getting the right angle to…oh.No.
He’s stroking her head.
She feels his fingers combing through her hair. One traces the curve of an ear.
The last remnants of tension leave her. She opens her eyes.
He’s propped on one elbow, gazing down at her.
She gazes up at him.
A long moment passes.
I told you there was nothing to worry about, she says.
You did, he says. You assured me it was a false alarm. I wonder why I didn’t listen.
Probably because you’re a dingbat. You should have told me how freaked out you were.
Maybe, he says. But then, honesty isn’t really our thing, isit?
That makes her wince. I’m sorry, Nick.
It’s okay.
It’s not. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you when—
Jenny, it’s fine. Let’s forget about it, okay?
Really?
Well, no, he says. I’m going to store this up to throw back in your face years from now, when you’re pissed at me about something.
Years from now. Years!
They’re fine. They have years.
God isn’t teaching her a lesson, and there’s no fire.
But as far as tonight goes, he adds, we’re good.
We’re great! she cries. Let’s have sex!
She tears open her robe and they have at each other. He bites her breast and she pulls his hair. He’s on top of her now, forcing her legs open, sucking and biting her, that’s going to leave a mark but who cares! She needs him inside her, she’s clutching at him, won’t he please—
He lifts his head.
What’s wrong? she says.
Nothing. But I think I’ll call down.
She blinks, dazed. Why?
He’s already rolling off her.
Just to confirm that everything’s squared away, he says. I’m sure it is, but why not double-check?
He picks up the receiver. He’s calling down now, after refusing for so long? Is he teasing her? They can have each other again, so he’s making her wait? What a contrarian.
But you know what? Fine. They’ve waited this long. She smiles up at the smoke detector. Good smoke detector, noble smoke detector. Bearer of glad tidings. Of good joy.
Let him call. She knows how to tease him, too.
Hi, he says. This is…sure.
She turns her head so she can see him. They put you on hold again?
Yes, damn them. He switches the receiver to his other hand and reaches for his cell phone. She watches him flick through his email.
Don’t they know who they’re dealing with? Nobody keeps Slick Nick waiting.
He glances up from his screen.
No, sir, she says. The King of the Street Corner doesn’t take this kind of crap from anyone.
You better be careful, he says.
What are you going to do? Sell me a fake Rolex?
No, I’m going to drag you into the stairwell, tie you to the railing and fuck the living oh, hi! Yes, I’m here. We heard the announcement, and…go ahead.
She shakes with supressed laughter, watching him listen, his eyes on her like, You are in such big trouble.
So it was a false alarm after all, he says. Good. And the specific floor where the alarm…okay.
His robe is hanging open. She slides across the bed and reaches inside and takes his cock in her mouth. He inhales sharply, pushing himself toward her. She tastes herself on him, that odd metallic tang he claims to love. He’s only half hard, so she can take all of him into her mouth.
Oh my fucking… no, he says, sorry, I wasn’t…go ahead.
The person on the other end of the line keeps talking, and she keeps sucking his cock. A thing she loves to do. Of course she does! She denied it because, well, she has to deny him sometimes. Him and his certainties, his proclamations on human nature, on women. He’s fully hard now. His hand grips the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. How could she not get turned on by this? By how he responds, how he comes all undone.
She’s wasted so much time tonight! Fretting and jabbering, tapping and swiping, when she could have simply wrapped her lips around his cock and blown her fears away. All her thoughts of punishment and mortality, God and Jewish mothers, she could have let it all go and—
So the alarm was…ahhh, he says. That’s why…mm-hmm. And so the elevators oh goddamn, that’s…no, I, I’m fine, I just…I have to go thanks bye.
He drops the phone and pulls her to her knees and they’re kissing. Her hair is in his mouth. Her mouth tastes like champagne. They fall onto the bed, they’re struggling and somehow she’s on top of him, which suits him just fine. He slips his hands under her robe, reaching around for, yes, thank you Jesus, thank you fire safety director and all relevant saints, thank you for these two heaping palmfuls of splendid buttockry.
Have you ever been disappointed? She has no idea. Never mind, though, because this ass. He grazes the cleft with his fingers as they kiss. If only, if only. Here he goes, once again plotting his conquest of her mythic asshole. He won’t suggest it now. Unless she seems game. She might be, flush as she is with a sense of reprieve.
And it comes upon him, all in a rush. The glow, the glow is back! Early this time, a premature glowification, but he’ll take it. This is what they’re meant for, made for, not conversations about disappointment, or humanity’s capacity for—oh her skin, her teeth. Her tongue. Jenny! Lovely funny warm real, a flesh and blood woman who fucks him with abandon, who snorts when she laughs sometimes, who does dirty things willingly. Most of them, anyway. A woman of infinite variety. Age cannot what ? Wither her, nor —
Here we go again with the goddamn poetry.
Forget it. The point, the bottom line:
She.
Wants.
Him.
Him! A man no longer young, not falling apart but let’s face it, no Adonis either. Him, with his body that has begun to complain, to creak and pop, foreshadowing the inevitable: age decay decline decrepitude loss death the end goodbye. Fewer tomorrows than yesterdays. But there’s still today. Tonight. He opened the door, and his arms, and she was there. What was it she’d said when she camein?
To him! Not to anyone else, not to Tom or Juan Pablo, that little fucker, with his elite education and his atmosphere of decadence. He doesn’t matter. Only she does. Jenny. Who makes defect perfection . Who makes hungry where most she satisfies . Who may not have changed him, but who saved him. Who obliterated his persistent, crushing, yearslong malaise.
Did we ever stay in a yellow room? he asks her.
A yellow room?
An old room. With yellow walls, and a dark floor? Maybe at an inn?
I don’t think so. Oh, Nick, do that again, with your…oh God.
Gad. He does it again.
And again.
You were so mean to me earlier, he says.
I know. She’s bending over him, her mouth close to his ear. I was such a fucking bitch.
I think I deserve a reward for putting up with you.
We both deserve a reward. I was so scared. I was trying to play it cool, but I was out of my fucking mind with…what are you smirkingat?
You, he says. You never swear this much.
What? I swear all the time.
Oh God, what she’s doing now, pressing down on him, rocking against him, it’s—
You don’t, he says. It’s always fricking and jeez and shoot with you.
I guess I need guidance. Her lips are on his throat. Can you teachme?
Is she—oh, she is, she’s biting him, it’s unbearable! And the way she’s moving, is she ready, isn’t it time for her to reach down and with two dainty fingers raise the head of his cock and lower herself to receive it, slowly, gently taking him—
I’ll try, he says. Say, I want you to fuck me, Nick.
I want you to fuck me, Nick.
Not bad. Now say, I want you to fuck my pussy, Nick.
I want you to fuck my pussy, Nick.
Good, he says. Now say, I want you to fuck me in the ass.
But she doesn’t.
She bursts out laughing instead.
What? he says.
You and my ass! she cries.
Me and…sorry, what?
She sits back, shaking her head at him and smiling. You never shut up about it. You’re always trying to stick your dick in it. You’re obsessed.
I am not!
She gives him a sly sideways look. She slaps his cheek lightly. Then his other cheek.
You. Slap.
Are. Another slap.
Obsessed .
She tries to slap him again but he grabs her hand and bites it. Grabs her other hand and pulls her back down. Kisses her laughing mouth.
So she knows about his devious anal scheming. And he thought he was being so subtle.
Why can’t we try it?
We have!
Don’t stop moving. Oh Jesus, Jenny, that’s…I think you want it more than you realize.
She only laughs.
I’m serious. Your asshole is always so clean. Isn’t that sending mixed signals?
No, Nick. It’s sending the unmixed signal that I know how to clean my own asshole.
Okay, but—
Fine, she says. We’ll do it. But you go first. I’ll fuck you in the ass, then you can fuckme.
He’s not one hundred percent opposed. What would you use?
We’ll find something. She looks around the room. What about the bottle of baby oil you always bring with you?
She knows about the baby oil!
He pulls her down again and kisses her irresistible, teasing mouth. You’re really something, you know that?
I do know that, she says. And you’re really—
The smoke detector shrieks.
She gasps.
There’s a blast of static, then a screech that makes them cover their ears.
She looks down at him, eyes wide. What the—
There’s another explosion of static. A garble of voices.
Stand by! says a voice. Thisis—
They’re both sitting up now, staring at the ceiling.
More screeching. Then a voice cries: That ain’t right!
They gotta know—not cool, man! Not—
There’s a final, earsplitting blast of static.
Then silence.
Nick, she whispers.
Right. He jumps off the bed. Let’sgo.
She’s already scrambling for her clothes. They dress quickly, neither of them bothering with underwear. They are silent and businesslike. In no time they’re ready.
As they head out, she scoops her coat off the floor. He opens the door.
The hallway is low-lit, immaculate. As it was before.
Empty, as it was before.
And smoke free.
Of course it is. The place is run by a bunch of cretins who should be taken out back and shot, but there’s no danger. Still, they’re out of here. He takes her hand.
As they move down the hall muted bursts of static come at them from behind the doors of the rooms they pass. They reach the elevator bank, a dozen sets of doors on either side of a black marble expanse. In the center, a table topped with a vase of tall lilies. He hits the down button, just to check. The screen above each set of doors blinks two red dashes.
So be it. Now whereis—
There! Jenny points. StairwellA.
He pushes at the door, which barely budges. There’s a weight against it, like someone on the other side is pushing back. He puts his shoulder into it and heaves. The door opens and they practically tumble into the glaring white stairwell.
And the unmistakable tang of smoke.