Chapter 52
Laura and Vic
Vic Stephens, freshly showered after a tough game of squash with a colleague, decided to have a drink or two before heading home for dinner with his wife, Natalie. As he picked up his vodka tonic, he saw one of his wife's acquaintances, Laura Strand, sitting by herself reading a book.
Taking his drink in hand, he approached her. His wife, never suspecting he would act on the information, had informed him that Laura was divorced, and very much available.
"Hi, Laura, Vic Stephens," he said, extending his hand.
"Oh, yes, you're Natalie's husband, Vic," Laura replied, accepting his handshake. "It's good to meet you. How's Nat?"
"She's fine. I'm fine, everyone's fine," he said smiling down at her.
He motioned at the chair beside her. "With anyone?" he said off-handedly.
"No," she laughed, and then tossed her hair to one side. "I'm avail . . . I mean "I'm by myself. Thought I'd have a drink, do some reading, you know . . . before heading home." 'To a bleak apartment,' she thought, but did not add.
"I'm killing time before Natalie gets home and starts dinner. May I join you?"
"Please do," she said, and he knew he had a chance at scoring then and there.
He sat down fairly close to Laura, but not so that she would find it offensive, and said, "Can I refill your drink, Laura?"
"Yes, thank you," she replied, admiring his wavy brown hair and rugged good looks. "That would be nice, Vic."
Vic signaled the bartender, got a nod of acknowledgement and turned to face Laura.
They covered the usual safe topics between men and their wife's friends, and it wasn't until he ordered a second drink for her that Laura began to open up. For the record, she had had two drinks before Vic appeared; now as she sipped from her fourth apple martini, she began to lose certain inhibitions.
"Then there's the other thing," she paused and took a deep breath. "My sex life."
"Your sex life," Vic said, gently nudging her over the line.
"Oh, I know what you and Natalie are thinking. I know what all my married friends are thinking," she said faintly slurring the word "my."
"And what are we thinking, Laura?" he said, finding her as intoxicating as she was intoxicated.
"How exciting it must be to still be available. To go out a couple times a week and meet new men, or women, as the case may be."
"You've got me there," Vic said, somberly. His eyes never left hers.
Laura felt the flush starting in her neck, knew it would spread to her breasts and thanked her stars that he wouldn't be able to see how his presence was affecting her.
"Well it's not," she said bluntly.
"How so?" he asked gently, mentally urging her on.
"For one thing, there's no one to come home to after working all day."
"But you're free to do as you wish..." he held it at that, not wanting to go too far. He hoped she would take it the extra mile.
"Christ, Vic, even getting laid is so fucking complicated," she said sorrowfully.
Inwardly, Vic threw his hands into the air in a sign of victory. Laura had crossed the line. Now anything was possible. He reminded himself to proceed cautiously.
"How so?" he asked again, confident those words even if repeated would not hurt his cause.
And they didn't. Laura, having opened the floodgates under the influence of the several drinks already imbibed, took another long gulp and said in a rush, "You guys... you think I have a license to fuck any man I take a fancy to. And...and your wives are just as bad. When for whatever reason they're pissed off at their husbands, they go shopping and mentally undress the young men...even school boys at the supermarket or mall. You all think about me, as if I'm whoring around, spreading my legs for every Tom, Dick and Harry I happen to admire that day or night."
He held up his hands in protest, but Laura continued with her rant.
"You all...each and every one of you, envy me my so called sordid sex life."
"Do we?" Vic said softly.
"Yeah, you do," she said with so much sadness, he was taken aback.