Chapter 16
The Dating Question
“And Mummy screamed.” Effie finishes her account of her visit with Anders in a fit of giggles. Max joins in the laughter too. Dana, though, leans across and squeezes my hand.
“I would’ve screamed too,” she says, the first person to offer me sympathy. I give her a weak smile. “Thanks.”
She leans her head closer to mine. “So you've introduced Anders to Effie?” she whispers, her eyes wide. “This is a change from your previous position.”
Max and Dana have come to visit to make up for a missed Friday evening. As Sunday lunch is a busy time for restaurants, Fiona’s not with them.
I purse my lips, not sure what to say. “I didn’t plan it. It’s just happened.”
“Have you changed your mind, then?” she asks.
“It’s complicated.”
She laughs. “It’s never complicated. Complicated only means your head wants to go one way, your vagina another.”
I drop my head into my hands. “You can’t say that!”
“Kids,” she says. “Why don’t you go and watch cartoons?”
Max and Effie look at each other and skedaddle. I bet they can’t believe their luck. Cartoons, and it’s not even raining.
Dana puts the kettle on and makes tea. She slides a mug on the table. “Come on, tell Dr Dana all about it.”
Even though she’s pro-Anders, I need to talk to someone, and she’s all I’ve got.
My parents might love me, but we don’t have the type of relationship where I can talk about my sex life.
My work friends are absolutely out of the question; my school and college friends scattered to the corners of the world.
“I’ve been having intrusive thoughts.”
“What type of thoughts?” Dana’s face shows her alarm and immediately I realise how crass my words were. I backtrack. “Nothing serious. Nothing like that.”
Dana’s head tilts to one side as her eyes consider me. “X-rated thoughts?”
I nod, unable to find the words.
“What is the exact nature of these thoughts?”
I squirm. Last night, after Effie had gone to bed, I had a fantasy that when Anders caught me bare-arsed, he’d moved behind me.
Then he’d lowered his sweatpants and taken out his enormous erect cock and rubbed it over.
Then he plunged into me from behind as I braced myself, hands splayed against his patio doors.
Even now, just thinking about it, my heart rate is picking up, my belly tightening.
But I’m never going to admit those details to anyone.
“I’m having sex. Different types, different positions.” I hope that’s explicit enough without being too vague.
“Different people?”
I shake my head, my eyes fixed on my mug of tea.
“One man?”
I nod.
“Anders?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she reflects. “Maybe your body is telling you it needs some stress release?”
I know I’m being cagey, but Dana doesn’t have to treat me like a blushing virgin. “Do you mean an orgasm?”
She nods.
“That’s not the problem. I’ve been ringing that particular doorbell every night. Sometimes more. It’s not made a jot of difference. And the thoughts are getting worse.”
“Worse?”
“More adventurous,” I mutter. “Things I’d never do. I’ve tried to stop them, but they keep coming.”
Dana sniggers at my words like a twelve-year-old.
“Not helpful,” I remind her. Then I groan. “I think I’ve a crush on my boss.”
She taps the table. “You want to have sex with him, so go have sex with him. I give you permission. You’re two consenting adults. Why is that such a problem?”
“Because now Effie’s fallen for him big time. He’s an older man who’s shown her a speck of attention and Mike is such a flake she’s smitten. How am I meant to fuck Anders without Effie finding out? And what will that do to her hopes?”
“Effie doesn’t have to find out. The two of you work together, do it in his office. Blow him under the desk.”
Until recently, I never understood why so many romances featured this, but Dana’s suggestion is suspiciously close to one of my fantasies. I’d never do it in real life. “The worry someone might walk in would stress me out so much, I’d probably bite his dick off,” I tell her.
She shrugs. “He’s a man of means. If not the office, I’m sure there’s a nearby hotel you can use for an urgent meeting.” She drops air quotes around the last two words.
She makes perfect sense, so why am I still reluctant? “I don’t know,” I moan. “What if it all goes wrong? What if I end up with a broken heart again? What if Effie ends up with a broken heart?”
“Oh, honey,” she reaches across the table to hold my hand. “That’s all or nothing thinking. What makes you think the stakes have to be so big?”
“Aren’t they?”
“Contrary to Hollywood, most relationships end because there’s no longer an emotional connection. Things fizzle out. Both sides walk away with nothing more than slightly dented egos. And for once, you have all the power.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s already put his cards on the desk. He asked you to marry him. He’s not going to do what Mike did. He wants commitment. So, you get control. You get to decide fast or slow. You can back up or walk away at any point if it’s not working for you.”
I’m silent, considering her words.
“Think about it,” she says. “From a practical point of view, if you ended things, he couldn’t fire you without gross misconduct on your part, which is never going to happen. The law protects you. Your job is safe no matter what.”
And I do think about it. Ginny’s problem was Piotr held all the power. He was the boss, and he was less invested in the relationship. That doesn’t apply here. “Anders could still make my life difficult,” I point out.
“Do you think he would? You turned down his proposal, and he’s not been mean to you.”
I draw a breath. “No.” Anders isn’t mean or resentful.
I’ve seen people cross him and he’s never sought revenge.
His attitude is to leave them in his dust. The better he does, the more insignificant they become.
In fact, I could do with learning from him.
For too long I’ve been hobbled by Mike and what he did.
Maybe it is time to leave it behind me. To override those subconscious fears with a conscious decision to move on.
“Thank you.” I lean forward and give Dana a hug.
But Dana has no intention of letting me off. “So, what are you going to do?”
“No idea. But it’s probably time to rescue the kids before their brains turn to jelly and take them to the park.” Dana is stricter about screen time than I am.
“Nope,” Dana waggles a finger at me. “Not so fast. We aren’t leaving here until you’ve made a concrete plan. I know you. You’ll be too busy, or decide he’s too busy, or Effie’s too …” she hesitates, searching for a suitable adjective but ends up settling on, “Effie.”
“No, I won’t.” I protest, knowing full well I had absolutely intended to do nothing. Doing nothing is a much-underrated strategy for dealing with shit. It’s remarkable how many things resolve without interference.
Dana’s face takes on a familiar cast; one I know all too well. It usually means Max is in trouble, but today it’s angled at me. “Fiona said…”
I groan. Dana was much more malleable before she took up with her girlfriend.
Dana starts again. “Fiona said it’s not fair that we have a childfree night and you don’t.”
“I do it as a thank you for everything you do for me. Fairness doesn’t come into it.”
“Nevertheless, we think that when Effie comes on Friday, she should have a sleepover by herself. Which means you are free to go on a date on Friday evening. A date that can last all night.”
I ignore the subtext. “What if I don’t want to go on a date?”
“Then you can go to the cinema or the theatre or get a massage or even just sit and read a book. And by book, I mean a novel, nothing about reptiles. But this Friday, this Friday you’re going on a date. You are going to ask Anders out.”
“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no. I’m not doing that.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll get the wrong idea.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I think he’ll get precisely the right idea.” Dana gives me a wink. “I’ve never met the man, but from what you tell me, he’s not slow on the uptake. I reckon you’ll be singing the Hallelujah Chorus well before midnight. And maybe again at dawn.”
I never told Dana about Anders’s three orgasms comment and I don’t do so now. I wouldn’t want her to feel her sex life was inadequate. If she is happy with two orgasms a night, so be it.
I’ve been quiet too long, and she’s mistaking my silence for consideration of her suggestion.
“Look, you can set expectations. You can say to him, ‘Let’s go out for dinner and see if we’ve got anything to talk about outside the office’.
Baby steps. You don’t have to leapfrog into bed.
If you want to take your time, you can. But personally, I don’t see how you can keep your hands off his fine tushy. ”
“I’ll tell Fiona you said that.” But I’m beginning to see the merit in what she’s saying.
I’ve had dinner with Anders before but invariably we’ve talked about work, work colleagues, or work competitors.
If we exclude those topics, we might sit at the table with nothing to say.
Then I’ll be able to put him back in the ‘like not lust’ box.
“I showed her the pics. She agrees with me. We both think you need to put Mike behind you. And you won’t break that last hold until you move on physically.
It’s human nature. We’re programmed to form bonds with the people we have sex with.
The more sex, the stronger the bond. Did you know that men who use prostitutes regularly often end up going back to the same one again and again? ”
Obviously, the programming malfunctioned in Mike because we were fucking like rabbits and he still walked. But maybe I have been putting off breaking this one last bond. Not because I want him back, but because Effie means we’ll never completely be over.
I’m all twisted up in my brain. I’m not actually sure what to think anymore. Am I thinking about a date with Anders because he likes Effie or because my body is sending me unmistakable signals of carnal lust or because I’m ready to move on with my life? Or possibly a mix of all three?
Dana must spot that I’m wavering because she adopts full bulldozer mode.
“You tell Effie you’re working late on Friday, and I’ll be picking her up. Make sure you let her childcare know. I’ll bring her back to mine and feed her. She can have a sleepover with Max. You,” she fixes me with a deadly stare, “have got to promise to talk to Anders.”
She’s like a terrier after a postman. I’m not going to escape. I let my shoulders drop. “Okay,” I say, capitulating. “Now, can we go to the park?”
My sexual revolution has to wait. Anders is out most of this week and when he’s away, I’ve no time for play. Not only are there extra issues to sort on behalf of my boss but when he’s abroad, people bring their issues to me instead.
By the time Thursday swims around and Anders returns, I've had enough time to work myself into a tizzy. I've practised what I want to say a hundred times, but still standing outside his door, I'm nervous. As I knock, all my words desert me.
It's even worse when I open the door to find he's not alone. Scarlett is with him.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask. I can’t work out whether a reprieve would be good or bad.
“Not at all. Scarlett and I were just finishing up,” Anders says, his eyes fixed on his computer. His head lifts slightly in her direction. “I don't have anything free until Friday. But it will have to be late, I'm afraid.”
Shit. I should have thought of this. The image of Dana’s doubting face if I don’t get this done spurs me on.
“I'm sorry,” I interject hastily. “You might be busy tomorrow night.”
Anders turns his gaze on me. “There's nothing in my diary.”
“I know.” I bite my lip. Ad-libbing is not my forte. “Something has just come up. I need to talk to you about it.”
Anders looks at me expectantly, and I look at Scarlett. “It's delicate,” I say.
He finally seems to get the message. He turns to shepherd Scarlett to the door. “I'll have to get back to you,” he says.
When the door is firmly closed behind her, he turns towards me. “Who's resigned?” One hand lifts to scrape through his hair. It's already messy and the working day has only just begun.
But Anders doesn’t wait for my reply. “Ah, jeez. It's not you, is it? I don't think I could stand to lose you.”
I'm both gratified and taken aback. Have I done or said anything to give him that impression?
“No, it's not me,” I stammer. “Well, it is. But not the way you think.”
Two fierce orbs of blue freeze me in place. Unfortunately, they also rob my mind of thought.
“Explain,” he says, his alarm evidently robbing him of all manners. Anders is often brusque around me; we've worked together long enough to drop the niceties and the dancing around often required with others. But this is curt, even for him.
“I'm not resigning.” I get the important words out first. “But I thought you might be busy Friday evening. Effie…”
“Of course,” he interrupts. “The museum. I haven't forgotten.”
“No, that's not it at all.” I pause. Now that it comes to it, my courage seems to have evaporated. How do people do this so often?
“Cora.” His tone sharpens. “You've got me worried. What's going on?”
I take a deep breath and steel myself. “Effie is going on a sleepover Friday night. I wondered if we could get dinner together?”
Now that the words are out, a shaft of doubt drives through me. What if he chooses a meeting with Scarlett over me? I watch him closely. He is obviously surprised — I'd even go so far as to say shocked.
“What exactly do you mean by dinner?” His words are cautious.
“Food. In a restaurant. You and me. No one else.”
His eyes flare, and then his lopsided grin appears. “Let me get this straight,” he says. “You're asking me on a date?”
I squirm. The trick to dealing with Anders is always to have the upper hand, and somehow, I've lost it. “I'm asking if we can spend some time together outside of work, to see if we might get on well. Or not.”
“Okay,” he says. “But I have a couple of stipulations. One, I choose the restaurant. Two, I pay.”
I nod. He can have his alpha-male bullshit control freakery. Besides, if he picks the restaurant, I’m certainly not paying for it. Imagine if I got stuck with the bill for the tasting menu at a Michelin-starred place.
“Excellent. And Cora, can you block out my diary for Friday evening? Mark it as…” he pauses, eyes glinting, “'wedding planning'.”
I twist my lips to show my disapproval. “Keep that up and you'll be dining alone, my friend.”
I turn on my heel, leave his office, sit down at my computer, and block out his evening. I mark it: prostate exam.
I hear the exact moment he spots the calendar notification. His laugh is explosive.