Surprise Witness
Audrey Lusk
“Alma, give me five minutes, undisturbed,” I ordered, firmly closing the door of my offi
ce before my assistant could respond. Woman was paid enough for rudeness. Why waste sentiment?
I smiled, alone, as I never did in front of anyone—clients, colleagues, even the few I vaguely thought of as friends. Today was one of my visits. Some people meditated, some drank. I…well, recently I’d discovered this new hobby. Spike. In prison for life, Spike had this arrangement with an obsessively voyeuristic guard at the prison—at least when I made one of my visits. Shortly after our first…encounter…I took my personal interest in Spike up a notch and parlayed him into a useful informant.
I got all sorts of good prison gossip, dirt I could exchange to help my other clients, and Spike, well, he got me. And I also got…stress relief…in the form of rough, nasty, intense sex. I supposed I might feel ashamed about how thrilling I found it to be abused by someone I should’ve held nothing but contempt for, but frankly that would be as much of a waste as sympathy for my secretary.
Everyone I worked with, everyone I casually encountered took one look and saw an ice queen, a bitch with brass balls, someone who could very possibly make hell freeze over with a stray glare.
I worked hard for that.
I was stripping out of my good hose and changing into an old silk blouse, suitable for roughhousing, when a knock came at the door. I ignored it. Considered firing my assistant for her failure to run interference.
“Diane?” A junior-partner voice if I ever heard one. Glen Openshaw. I couldn't ignore him, but I could make him wait. “Diane?” His voice was as bland and forgettable as his face, his personality. A Ken doll made flesh. I imagined his smooth dickless crotch—then imagined setting it on fire.
I tucked in the blouse, stepped back into my shoes without hose and stormed to the door, throwing it open. Ignoring Glen entirely, in his perfect suit and tie, his pastel shirt, I yelled, “Alma, didn't I ask for five goddamn minutes?”
“Sorry, Ms. Burke, I—”
“It's my fault.” Glen made one of those conciliatory faces that gave me the urge to slap him. “I had to catch you before you left. You're going out to Millhouse today?”
The prison, yes, I thought, excitement rising within me at the mere thought of Spike and his dark marble-like eyes. None of that reached my face, though, and all I said was, “Why?”
Glen smiled again, completely oblivious to my deep loathing. “Well, I was hoping to come along.”
“No.” I shut the door on him.
Glen wasn't bad looking, tall and lean from hours of obligatory Pilates or whatever. Perfect hair, perfect teeth. Bred for corporate law. I bet his daddy was a lawyer, and he never had to work a day in his life to get through college. Legacied into the right frat.
He wouldn't be so damned wishy-washy if he'd ever had to compete for anything, ever had to prove himself. Whereas, being a particularly well-endowed blonde, I had to constantly hammer home the fact that I was more than a sex kitten, a blow-up doll, a ditz joke.
Alone, I began to shake—but only on the inside. I couldn't just drop round to see Spike every week. How dare this ass try and horn in on my very precious time? No way was he going to stop me from getting what I wanted, what I craved.
Was this what it felt like to be an addict?
Probably.
Fuck it.
I quickly rolled on the new pair of cheap nylons and shrugged back into my suit jacket. It was about time to get going. Spike would be expecting me.
Glen was waiting at my car.
“Look, Diane, Meyers wants me to go with.” Even though his tone was still tentative and apologetic, the bastard didn't pull any punches, citing the senior of all senior partners.
I seethed. I could feel a seethe burn over me, replacing all the tasty lust I'd been hoarding for this trip, like a good buzz gone sour.
But Meyers requires. And no one says no.
“Why?” My tone should have frozen him on the spot, but Glen hardly seemed to notice.
“Nothing about your performance, let me reassure you! Your work with Spike has been duly noted at very high levels.” I would give a shit about that later, I was sure, but right now I could not have cared less.
Glen continued. “Just that I have a few questions for him that might help out another client, and I was hoping that if I went along with you, you could grease the wheels a bit. You know.” He ended with a hearty self-effacing shrug.