Saturday, May 17, 2008
A lesson in deception after a quickie threesome prepares me for my probing boyfriend.
Nov 29, 1999 | Nov. 29, 1999
Wednesday afternoon, October 6
This morning, a quickie chez Jasmine. While post-orgasmic Harry was washing up, Jasmine was urging me to attend Sexaholics Anonymous tonight -- so I could spy on David, her ongoing project. "I want you to follow him," she insisted. "See where he goes after the meeting. I'll point him out --"
"Absolutely not!" I protested. "Besides," I added, more soberly, "I have to see Matt." I told her about our fight at La Metairie -- the questions he was asking before I ran away from the table -- and then his phone call, last night: "I tried to forgive him but he wouldn't let me. He wants to talk about it. I wish he would just forget the entire episode!"
"Forgive him too easily and you'll arouse suspicion. Make him apologize for causing a scene! Don't lose your nerve," she advised. "Remember, boyfriends are just civilians."
Harry emerged from the bathroom, humming softly, and patted Jasmine's rump. As Harry left, her playful smile gave way to a more familiar, determined expression.
"I hope you're not going to follow in Allison's footsteps and play the confession card," she said ominously. She ignored my irate glare. "It's not Matt's fault if paranoid guilt undermines you!"
"It's not guilt," I sighed. "I'm just burned out from lying all the time. Don't you ever get sick of lying to people?"
"Nope," Jasmine said cheerfully. "I just want to know if other people are lying to me. I spend my time pursuing truth, not sharing it indiscriminately. Speaking of which -- I have to find out if David's really got bucks before I make my next move. He's very secretive." She extracted some folded money from beneath her VCR -- Harry's payment -- and handed over my portion. "At meetings," she continued, "he just says, 'I'm a sex addict and I'm here to listen and learn ...' Then he gives all the ladies in the room a puppy dog look and clams right up. But it's always me -- after the meeting -- that he flirts with." She frowned for a second. "Last Friday, we went to a gallery opening at Castelli. He was being totally attentive -- well, I looked pretty damn good, if I say so myself. Suddenly, he disappears, then comes back looking really embarrassed. He must have been using his phone. His aunt wasn't supposed to arrive until the next morning but she got into town early! This was supposed to be our first, like, real date! Now what kind of a crazy story is THAT? If I weren't working the guy, I'd be totally pissed off!"
"Maybe he's got a rich aunt," I said hopefully, "and he humors her to keep the money in the family."
"You've been watching too much 'Masterpiece Theater,'" Jasmine snorted. "If he's one of these trustafarians, I can't be bothered. Guys like that aren't generous ... I was going to write him off but he called the next day, totally apologizing and trying to make plans for this week! I guess it's too soon to drop him."
"Maybe he's not really divorced?"
"Maybe!" Jasmine looked pleased. "Then I'll know exactly how to play him." I envy Jasmine her predatory detachment.
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