LifeoftheParty (13 page)

It was more of the same as afternoon gave way to evening,
sleeping and fucking at intervals. Once they got up and took a shower, shared a
bottle of seltzer, cold chicken, biscuits and an apple, laughing hysterically
about something nonsensical. A little while after he was awakened by her mouth
on him. When she caught him watching her, she had them shift places, and with
her on the bottom and he on the top, she squirted her chest with thick heaps of
lotion then, holding the heavy mounds together, he slipped his cock in between
and fucked her breasts, shooting his come into her waiting mouth.

After nightfall, she woke up to see him standing by the
window, looking out over the city, the Benjamin Franklin Bridge in the distance
lighting the way to Philadelphia. She went to the window and put her hand to
the glass. It was cold against her palm, as cold as the jelly he was slathering
between her buttocks, in contrast to the warmth of his cock when he slipped it
into her anus. She braced her hands against either side of the window and
before the city and the night he eased in and out, in and out, until he spent
himself into her, until she cried out his name with her release. He carried her
back to the bed and they cleansed each other with soft soapy cloths and kisses
before he fell asleep on her thigh, her fingers tangled in his hair.

When the moon rose she felt his tongue on her, licking,
flicking, and she curved herself around until she was on top of him, his cock
against her lips. From there she traced the soft side of his underbelly, the
curious flatness of skin between his anus and scrotum, so different from her
own.

She took his balls into her mouth and sucked and pulled
until his breath heightened, gliding her tongue along the trail of penile
veining until her lips curved over his velvety crown, where she sucked, dipping
the point of her tongue into the tiny hole before she raised her head and took
him fully down her throat. Raised up and down, up and down, up and down and up
and down until his own tongue went rampant against her and she was coming and
so was he, tiny sparkles appearing before her eyes as her groin burst with
pleasure, her mouth flooding with salt and sweet and joy. She swallowed then
twisted around to kiss him, her taste in his mouth, his own in hers, her heart
atop his, beating an irregular cadence until one slowed and one caught up,
melding into a rhythm of one.

He held her face between his hands and whispered, “I love
you, I always will,” not waiting for an answer, tucking her against him. Then,
with his hand on her hip, his breath warm against her neck, he fell asleep,
deeply and soundly. And when she kissed the hollow at the bend of his arm, she
realized this was the only part of him she didn’t know intimately, as unlike
her, even with his kisses over every inch of her naked body, he still knew
nothing, as what we wish to bare is, in reality, subjective.

* * * * *

SUNDAY 3 NOVEMBER

9:22 A.M.

Gina awoke to the scents of bacon, toasting bread and
coffee. “Oooh,” she groaned, rolling over, “I
am
in heaven.”

Doug came out of the kitchen, naked to the waist, a spatula
in his hand. “Morning, doll,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Get up, get up.
I’m cooking a pound of bacon, and not a slice is safe. I’m hungry enough to eat
a whole hog.”

“Fancy that,” she said, stretching. She grabbed his shirt
from the floor and buttoned it over her. When she went into the kitchen he was
sliding eggs onto a plate.

His eyes hooded. “Damn, you look great in my clothes. Come
here.” He kissed her thoroughly. “Now make yourself useful and take these out
to the table.” A few more trips from the little kitchen and they were at the
table, digging in.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been hungrier,” Gina said, nipping
her fifth piece of bacon. “And you know, I believe I’m getting used to you. I’m
not even sore today.”

He reached under the table and grabbed her knee. “You’re
growing a hide, woman. That’s good.”

She laughed.
Every breakfast should be like this.
Every breakfast should include a man as wonderful as Doug, with food as
delectably fatty as bacon, eggs and rye bread smothered with butter, all
wrapped up in the afterglow of a glorious night of lovemaking.
I could get
used to this.
And then he smiled, the world lighting up anew.

“What time is it?” she asked, biting into the last slice of
bacon.

“Going on ten.”

She dropped the slice to her plate. “Jesus! I have to get in
the shower.” When Doug rose, grinning wolfishly, she held him back with her
hand. “You stay right there or we’ll never get out of here.”

He winced. “When you’re right, you’re right.” And sat back
down.

Twenty minutes later she was out with a towel wrapped around
her, her hair up in clips, hauling her suitcase atop the bed. She flipped it
open. “Somewhere in here I have some ‘Falco for Governor’ buttons we had made
up.” She dug her fingers into the side pockets. “There’s going to be boxes and
boxes of them at the rally, but I’d really like to show up with one—” She
stopped cold.

“What’s that, doll?” Doug called from the kitchen.

She saw it peeking out from the corner of the pocket, one
single word.
Mumsford.

The newsprint had aged, understandably. It was nearly three
years old. Slowly, she drew it out until the whole article became clear, just a
news clip, really, but looming as large as if it were printed on a billboard.
Mumsford
Innocent of Drug Charge.

Her spine iced over.

“Gina?”

She could sense rather than see him beside her.

“Gina?” He grabbed her shoulders, turning her toward him.
“Jesus Christ! You’re fucking white! What the hell?”

“This was in my suitcase,” she said blankly, showing him.

“What?” He gave her a shake. “Gina—you’re freaking me out.
What’s wrong?”

She looked into his eyes, eyes like liquid crystal, so blue
she could swim away in them. Eyes that held so much love, every time they
caught hers a bit of her heart broke away. It was time. She couldn’t take it
anymore. If the worst that could happen was that he left her, it couldn’t be
any worse than this.

“Read this,” she said, handing him the article.

He looked at her strangely but snatched it away, quickly
taking it in. “This is the case I testified at when we first met. The crack kid
who turned a new leaf.” He huffed. “Why is this freaking you out now?”

She sat on the bed, holding on to the footboard. “Because I
don’t know how it got there.”

“What?”

“I would never put it there. I never wanted to remember it.”
She stared at her hands. The hands were the worst part, now that she recalled.
She clenched her eyes, biting back the memory. But she had to remember. And she
had to tell him. There was no holding back now. Not anymore.

He was shaking her. “What the hell’s going on? Tell me what
this means.”

All at once it became clear.
She
was being vetted. If
she wanted him, if she deserved to have him, it could be nothing less than full
transparency. She straightened her back, sitting up, and looked him dead in the
eye.

“Doug, I have something to tell you.”

He stood back. “Okay.”

“You may not like me when I’m done, you may hate me, in
fact, but I have to tell you. If I don’t, it’s over for the both of us.”

“Gina, what the—”

“Doug.
Please
.” When he threw up his hands, she knew
she had his attention. He sat on the bed, a few inches away. “Promise me you
won’t interrupt until I’m finished.”

He looked as though he was going to say something but ended
up with, “Yes.”

“Because while I’m telling you this, keep in mind this one
thing. This thing I never told you before. I love you.”

“
Gina
.”

“I do, as intensely and deeply as you have the misfortune of
loving me. Maybe more so because I don’t deserve you.” He reached for her but
she moved away. “Please don’t touch me. I don’t think I could bear it.” She
swiped her eyes. “Are you with me?”

His eyes were liquid. “Yes.”

“Good.” She gripped the iron bars, struggling to keep her
voice steady. “Now. Do you remember that last day of the trial? When we were
all called into the district attorney’s office?”

“Yes. Right before the prosecution rested.”

“Well, it would have gone on, except for…”

Funny how clear it comes back to you, the things you try to
suppress. But you can’t really, because it always revisits, even worse the
second time around.

I’d been at the top of my game, the girl who never lost a
trial, with so many offers, for so many different avenues, I could have closed
my eyes and pointed and still come up gold. So when I walked into the district
attorney’s office, I was walking on a cloud, so high above the rest of them I
couldn’t even see them anymore.

“Face it, Ted, you don’t have a thing. Besides, the kid’s
straight now. A model of rehabilitation. He’s got a wife, a kid and mortgage.
And a boss who’s solidly behind him.”

Ted Parks was skinny then as he’s skinny now. Lanky, some
call it, but I wouldn’t. I liked my men with muscles. Gobs of them.
“Gentlemen?” He turned to the three lurking like vultures. “I’d like to have a
word with Ms. Bardone. Do you mind?”

The assistant D.A.s all looked at each other, nattering
like a pack of crows. “Sure, Ted,” one of them finally said. “Gina.” Nodding to
me as they went out the door.

I turned to him. Oh Lordy, was this gonna be good. One
lift of my patent d’Orsays and I’d squash him like a bug.

He sat on the edge of his desk, tossing a folder to the
table. “See this? Guess what it is.”

“I haven’t the faintest.”

He leaned forward. “That’s your boy’s death knell.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh please.”

He smiled. An oily little curve of the mouth that belied
the definition. “That is one joint of Colombian Gold taken from his ashtray by
the cop who stopped him for speeding on 295 last week.”

“What? You must be joking.”

“Hardly. And you know what this means. Three strikes and
he’s out. Mandatory five-year sentence. And worst of worst—your perfect record
goes down the drain.”

“You wouldn’t.”

The smile came back. “Why not?”

A sucker punch, that’s what it was. A below-the-belt, a
cheap shot. But worse than that it was gratuitously heartless, for no other
reason besides that he could.

I stared at him, horrified. “You can’t.”

He laughed. “I will. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

He crossed his arms, leaning back. “Unless you fuck me.”

“
What
?” Did he really say that? It wasn’t
possible.

“You heard me.”

I turned away. “You go to hell.”

In a second he was on me, backing me into a table. “Oh
Gina, what the hell do you care? It’s just a fuck. Just a slice of me inside a
slit of you, moving back and forth so a young man could go home to his wife and
kids. Remain a productive member of society. Pay his taxes.”

“You bastard. You’ll lose your license for this. I’ll
report you to the Bar.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Jesus Christ,
Gina—who’d believe you? With all those wins? Who doesn’t believe you’re fucking
your way through them? Almost everyone out there already thinks you’ve got half
of the district attorneys up your cunt anyway.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Oh really? Did you see those men who just left? If you
look out the door they’re already packing up.”

“I never sold out—ever. I won every case on their merits
alone.”

“And now you’ll lose and send a man to jail. All because
you wouldn’t lift your skirt for one lousy fuck you’d forget about a minute
after I’m out of you.”

“Then why even bother? Why do you want me?”

He leaned over me, arching me back. “Because when I’m in
a roomful of those lying bastards out there, when each and every one of them
are saying what it was like to fuck you, I’ll be the only one to really know
not only what it was like, but also how it would’ve felt to make you lose.”

I could barely say it. “You’re a monster.”

“Who’s the monster? The man who wants to fuck you or the
woman who will send a struggling man to jail for five years?” He pushed the
file to me. “Your choice.”

I stared at it, my heart pounding out my chest. It was such
a simple thing, really. A fuck for freedom. At least that’s what I told myself.
In the end, it was even simpler than that. As I stood there, my hands braced on
the table, my back to him, I didn’t even have to give him my answer. I didn’t
even have to move. All I had to do was stand there, let him lift my skirt and
pull my panties down, and a moment later, he was leaning me into the table and
sinking in, his hands beside me, white hands, hands that had never pushed
anything harder than a pen, and less than a minute later he grunted and it was
over. And three hours later, both Lucas Mumsford and I were walking out the
courthouse.

“And an hour after that, you were making love to me.” For
the first time in ten minutes she looked at him. His expression was blank. “You
took away a bit of dirtiness every time you kissed me. I think I fell in love
with you that very day. You were my knight in shining armor. You were going to
make me clean again.

“That’s why I couldn’t have the baby, Doug. I couldn’t think
of it. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, because a little innocent baby
can’t help it, but I just didn’t know! I didn’t know if it was yours or his,
and it’ll shame me to the day I die, but I just couldn’t do it. In the end, it
didn’t matter anyway.”