Chapter 6: Absolutely Mortifying

When Leila's trembling finally ebbed, she mustered what strength she had left, yanked the blanket up to cover her long, shapely legs, and shot me a withering look. In a soft, scolding voice, she said, "You little punk, why didn't you call before you came back?" "I-I did knock!" I stammered. It had been an accident, but my tongue still tied itself in knots. Worse, the scene I had just walked in on had my body reacting in spite of me. I had only just been with Stephanie at the club, but because it was our first time, it had been over almost as soon as it began. Apart from the physical relief, most of the thrill had come from the bitter taste of revenge. Later, once I learned she had been a virgin, that thrill curdled into a shapeless guilt I could not shake. "So what if you knocked? You should have backed off," Leila said, rolling her eyes again, her tone still prickly. "What?" I blurted. I would have backed off if I could. The problem was, I had walked in at the exact second she reached her peak. It had been a matter of seconds. Who has the presence of mind to step back when it all happens in a split second? The fact that I had not taken advantage and forced myself on her already proved my self-control.  Back off? Not happening. I did not dare say any of that, though. I just scratched my cheek, forced a crooked smile, and said, "Leila, get dressed first. I picked up some fruit on my way back. I'll peel one for you." I stole a glance at her flushed face, then beat a retreat from the bedroom. Because she had been playing with her toy a moment ago, a few strands of her hair had come loose. With that rosy glow in her cheeks, she looked irresistibly sated, the kind of lazy afterglow that makes it hard to look away. I finally understood why men liked seeing a woman undone by pleasure. That rosy, shy, happy look was addictive. Ever since I left school, I had turned into someone else. The old me would have despised exactly this kind of person. I started second-guessing whether to show Leila the video. If she took that video to Sullivan and demanded a breakup fee, I figured Sullivan would take it out on Stephanie. Her first time was gone, and the footage was leaked. Even though the two of them never actually did the deed afterward, that short clip alone could land Sullivan in deep trouble. Leila had said Sullivan's wife worked in real estate, and her family's money matched his to the decimal. In front of her, he did not dare step out of line.  If Leila went to him with the video and broke things off, she could probably wring tens of thousands of dollars out of him without breaking a sweat. Plus, with a roughly 650-square-foot one-bedroom apartment in the mix, it would be enough for Leila to go find some unsuspecting nice guy to take the fall and settle down. Ugh. Damn it. Nice guys had done nothing to offend me. Why was I plotting to make one carry someone else's burden? I snorted at my own dark humor and finished peeling an apple. Leila drifted out of the bedroom, as languid and sultry as ever. She came to my side, plucked the apple out of my hand without asking, took a bite, and sat down. "How's work these days? Still got enough money to get by?" On the night I got plastered, the first time Leila had seen me in this city, I did not even have a few dollars on me. Drunk, I had babbled nonsense, and Leila saw right through my situation. Before I started at the club, she handed me about two thousand dollars, told me to make myself presentable there, and said if I ran short, I should come back and ask her. That gesture warmed me for a long, long time. After I arrived at the private club, I secretly sent a thousand dollars home. Ever since my dad injured his leg, I had stopped treating myself to anything. I used to take Stephanie out to eat, catch a movie. Later, with money so tight, I hardly spent any time with her, let alone took her shopping or to the movies. Without money, you were sunk. "It's enough for now, Leila. When I get my paycheck, I'll pay you back," I said. Leila laughed, took another crunchy bite, and said, "No need to be so polite with me. When you were little, you followed me around like a shadow. Besides, you're helping me get evidence at the club. I should pay you, shouldn't I?" She paused, then asked, "So, how's it going?" "Uh… sort of making progress," I hedged. "Either you are or you aren't," she said, brows knitting. "What does 'sort of' even mean?" I had planned to hand over the video, take the fee she promised, and disappear from this city. Back when I asked why she did not just end things with Sullivan quietly and ask for a breakup fee, she exhaled a ribbon of smoke and said, "Because I'm greedy. I spent my whole youth on him. If I don't walk away with some real money, where is a woman like me going to find a decent guy to settle down with?" Then she added, "Just do the job. I'll give you five thousand dollars when it's done." Five thousand. I couldn't make that in a year of part-time gigs. I was not about to let the chance slip. With that money, my kid sister's college tuition would be covered. She was in her senior year of high school, already strung tight by everything happening at home. With that sum, she could keep studying without fear. Thinking of all that, I said, "Sullivan actually… took a woman back to a hotel. And… she was my girlfriend." "Your girlfriend?" Leila's brows arched, disbelief bright in her eyes. I let out a bitter laugh. "That's right. After my dad's accident, I spent less time with her, but we never broke up. When I saw her walk into the club with Sullivan, my mind just froze." "After that, I followed them to the room. Sullivan was in the shower, and I slipped inside. He was just about to… you know… when his wife called. He left, and nothing happened between them." I trailed off, feeling guilty. Leila did not question my story. She seemed more concerned about me. "And then? Did you two have a falling-out, or what?"