Seven Women: An Erotic Private Investigation

Chapter 26…

I know it before she says it. “I was also thinking that Veronica might’ve fit in well with our group,” Tasha says, “and I was — I was wondering if you’d heard from her lately. I know I asked, but tell me the truth, Leonard, really.”

“Why would I have heard from her?”

“I—” she begins.

“Have you?” I ask.

“Would I be asking you if—”

“Tell me the truth. Tell me what you’re thinking.” I hate it when people are elusive.

“Sometimes,” she says, “I used to think the two of you got together behind my back and were lovers.”

“We did once,” I say, “but that was after you left me, and it was only once, and it felt like a bad mistake. It was a bad mistake. I don’t think either of us knew what we were doing exactly. The motions of silly shadows. But I told you this before, remember?”

“It was just once?”

“Why would I lie?” I say. “Especially now?”

“Sorry,” she says. “I should trust you. I always trusted you. I think. Even if I didn’t act like I did, I did. You never used to lie to me, did you? Like I lied to you. I didn’t really lie to you. I just told you the truth when it was too late. I should have told you the truth when things happened, but I was scared.”

“Frederick Slater,” I say.

“It was horrible seeing him tonight. It was a nightmare. I didn’t know what I’d do if—”

“He didn’t see us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

“You haven’t been seeing him?” I ask.

“I see him around,” she says, “but I haven’t been sleeping with him if that’s what you mean.”

“Are you sleeping with anyone now?”

Pause.

Probably a bad question.

She says, “I ended a relationship two months ago. It wasn’t much of a relationship, though. What about you?” she asks cautiously.

“Nothing worth talking about,” I say.

“Will you start something with Sheila?” she asks.

There’s that kind of silence you just loathe.

“I’m not stupid or blind,” Tasha says, “I could see what was going on between you two. The looks. It started from the beginning, when you first sat down. Sheila is a man-chaser; she always has been. I could tell you some stories about her, but I won’t. Maybe she’ll tell you them herself. You can’t deny this was happening, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to notice. The two of you disappeared from the dance floor.”

“There’s nothing between us,” I say. This is no lie. I know it now. Despite what has gone on with Sheila and myself both in person and on the phone, I have no desire to have further contact with her. I would rather touch my ex-wife.

“There could be,” she says, “if you want it.”

“Maybe I don’t want it.”

“She’s pretty, and energetic.”

“Do you think that’s what I want?”

“What,” Tasha says, “do you want?”

She asked me the same question that night with Veronica. We were drunk and high and on the bed; I don’t know how it started, but it did. I think it began as a joke, maybe I started it, said something like, “Why don’t we have a threesome?” and the next thing I knew we were in bed, kissing and pulling at each other’s clothes. “What do you want?” Tasha asked; I only knew, that moment, that I wanted them both. “I want you,” Veronica told Tasha and Tasha became numb. I can still see the look on my ex-wife’s face, see it now as I hear her voice.

“I want a lot of things,” I say.

“I want a few things that I’ve lost,” Tasha says. “I’m happy with my life, but there are things missing. Things that used to be there. I want them back.”