Chapter 2

Sunday June 4

Paul and I went to a party last night. It was a formal thing, and he introduced me to all sorts of people. After we got home I discretely wrote down notes, that I will later give to the FBI.

When I was interviewing for this undercover job, I naturally asked what laws they thought Paul had broken, and whether he was dangerous. They weren’t actually after Paul himself, Liz explained. They’re after some guy he does business with, who travels in the same circles. It’s very hard to get a warrant to spy on a US citizen directly, but very easy to get permission to spy on foreigners. They’re trying to put together a model of which foreign nationals the target probably talks to so that they can spy on them, which will hopefully incriminate the target. Paul, I was assured, is polite, non-violent, and sexually plain.

The dress I wore to the party was one that Penny had picked out when when we went shopping together. It’s elegant, but shows off my shape nicely. What I didn’t expect when I talked to Penny was her insistence that I wear a thong. Any hint of panty lines would reflect badly on Paul. That seems silly, but whatever. I’d never worn a thong before tonight - they always looked like they’d be uncomfortable. Well guess what? It was uncomfortable.

Another issue was that I’m not allowed to wear my glasses around Paul, ever. When Daniel turned me over to Penny, the first thing she asked was why I wasn’t wearing my contacts yet. I explained to her that I can’t wear contacts - my face gets puffy and bloodshot. Penny didn’t believe me, but after she took me to an optometrist she saw for herself. She said I would just have to get by without my glasses. I asked why nobody had mentioned it before, and she told me, “You’re being paid to be arm candy - it should have been obvious.”

I’m nearsighted, so here I was meeting all of these new people, but I couldn’t actually make out any faces past eight feet. I hope Liz doesn’t need a description of any of these people.

Anyway, half way through the party I decided to turn the thong thing from a problem to an opportunity. I took them off in the ladies’ room and discretely handed them to Paul when I got him alone a minute later. “With all these pretty girls around, I want to be sure you remember who’s coming home with you tonight,” I whispered playfully. He seemed to appreciate gesture.

I wasn’t the only college-aged girl there, by the way. At least two other old guys had “girlfriends” like me, although possibly slightly more legitimate.

Many of the non-trophy wives seemed to enjoy whispering about us young women and looking us over. They didn’t hide it. They didn’t seem contemptuous - just amused.

In the limo on the ride home, Paul was obviously pretty turned on, but all he did was kiss my hand. When we got to the condo it was straight into the bedroom.

Things were a little different this time. First of all, he allowed me to undress him. I kept telling him how sexy he looked in his suit, which was true.

The other new thing was a towel, tied around my waist, while we were doing it. I was on my hands and knees again, of course, but Paul was using this towel to pull me tight when he thrust into me. He rode me pleasantly vigorously. I couldn’t see, but I imagined sometimes that he had one hand up in the air like rodeo cowboys do in the movies.

Maybe it was the glass of champaign that I had drunk, that helped me get into the mood. Maybe it was the two or three glasses that he had had that helped him last longer. Maybe it was the idea of being ridden like an animal. Whatever the cause, Paul made me come. I shouted, “Jesus, Paul, yes!” as it shook through me. I was barely done when he pulled out and ejaculated. Most of it landed on the towel instead of me.

Today we went to the golf course. I know nothing about golf. I assumed that I would just follow Paul from hole to hole and congratulate him whenever he looked proud. I think that’s what Paul had in mind, too, at first, but we ran into two of the gossipy old women from the party last night and they insisted that I come have lunch with them instead. Paul said that was a good idea.

Lunch didn’t start right away, but their game did. Just as soon as we all had our virgin pina coladas in hand, Lindsey began: “Well Alexis, you certainly are beautiful. Paul really has a knack for dating beautiful women, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” Karen responded.

“What was that last one’s name? Tasha?” Lindsey went on. “What ever happened to her? Do you know why they split up, Alexis?”

“No,” I said. “Paul and I don’t really talk about that sort of thing.”

“Of course you don’t,” Karen said flatly.

“Well,” Lindsey went on, “you have to tell us how you met!”

Obviously these women had suspicions about our relationship. Paul is more than twice my age, after all. I wanted to have some fun playing cat and mouse with them, but I kept my restraint: I didn’t dare say anything that would reflect badly on Paul.

“We met through a friend,” I told the ladies.

“Who would that be?” Karen asked. “Maybe we know them!”

Time to make something up. “Do you know Ashley Bishop?” I began. “I was interning for her and I accidentally answered a video call for her. It was Paul, and, well, he made an impression on me right away. Then a couple days later, Mrs. Bishop invited me to lunch with her, and Paul joined us, and well, things progressed from there.” I tried to channel memories from the starts of my real relationships to sell it.

“Well isn’t that a meet cute,” Karen said with a smirk.

“That’s just darling!” Lindsey said. “Well look at you! You’re absolutely glowing!”

She took a long drink before going on: “Tell me, what is it that attracts you to Paul so? What qualities do you love about him?”

That was a tough question - intentionally, I’m sure. How well did I really know Paul? Other than a couple dinners together and some fairly impersonal sex, I didn’t. I obviously couldn’t say money or sex. I decided I had to just take a shot.

“He’s just got the most wonderful sense of humor, don’t you think?” I said.

“Does he?” Lindsey said. “I’m not sure I ever noticed.” She didn’t believe me.

“Well yeah!” I said, trying to sell the lie with enthusiasm. “There’s just something about the things he says that tickles me. I guess he kind of reminds me of my dad and brother in that respect.”

Lindsey nodded, seemingly satisfied. I guess the daddy-issues explanation seemed plausible enough. That was the last of the interrogation, but over the course of lunch Lindsey and Karen gossiped plenty about those other college-aged girls who’ve shown up in their circles recently.

On the drive home I asked Paul if he knew those women would be grilling me.

“Absolutely,” he said. “But I figured you could handle them.”

“I hope I did well enough,” I said.

“If not, we’ll be sure to hear about it soon.”

Monday June 5

Penny wanted me to tell her all about the party and golf, to make sure I was doing things right. She had no major criticisms after hearing my story. I asked her about Paul always wanting to come on my back - if there was anything I was doing wrong. She said she didn’t know why he did that, but echoed that the customer is always right. It’s okay to offer alternatives occasionally, she said, as long as it doesn’t seem like you’re criticizing their preferences.

I also met with Liz, the FBI agent. We went over my report together and she gave me some pointers on which details are most important. But really it’s all about collecting names, jobs, and places when I can.

Liz is so cool. I hope that we can become friends. I want to know all about working for the FBI. And I want to know about her, too. Does she have a husband and kids? What are they like? How do they handle it when she’s away on cases?

So it occurs to me that, with the exception of a few weekends when I was dating Miles, I’ve written about every single time I’ve had sex in my life. Well, no more of that. I just don’t see a point in bothering to write, “We did it doggy-style and he came on my back” every day. The towel thing was fun, but it seems like that was an exception to the rule.

Tuesday June 6

I’ve been getting bored staying in the condo all the time during the day, so I worked on my code on my laptop in the coffee shop today. A guy and girl my age that I’ve seen around the condo a couple times were there and they introduced themselves to me: Kevin and Brie. They’re house-sitting Kevin’s dad’s condo for the summer, largely so they can go to lots of baseball games. They seemed cool, and it was nice to be around people my age for a change.

Okay, so, a weird thing happened today. Paul and I were in the middle of dinner - we had ordered Indian food delivered - when someone rang the doorbell. Paul answered it. It was a short man with a loose baseball jersey and cap. He and Paul talked in whispers in the doorway, and then the guy handed something small to Paul, who walked briskly into his office and shut the door. A minute later he came out again, talked more in whispers with the guy in the doorway, and then the guy left. Despite my curiosity, I figured I shouldn’t asked what it was about.