Chapter 2

“And she was drifting through the back yard.

And she was taking off her dress.

And she was moving very slowly.

Rising up above the Earth.”

-Talking Heads, “And She Was”

“Not the way I usually expect to be greeted by the two most gorgeous women in the world dressed like Spy vs Spy’s hot sisters, but ok,” Troy said as he set down his briefcase (Yeah, he really carries one. What a dork! I love him.) and took off his shoes and socks.

Julie took his hand and gently guided him to his usual spot on the couch. I picked up a tray with a martini on it and presented it on the coffee table before him. (After eleven years of waitressing experience, I know how to handle a fuckin’ tray, all right?) In my head, Suzy-Q cursed me for not thinking of candles and smooth jazz to complete the scene before now. (Troy and Julie are both big on scene setting.)

Ok, if they’re going to be coming around, I can’t put off talking about them any longer: Remember what I said about having Borderline Multiple Personality Disorder before? I used to have to put myself into different headspaces to handle the ways Chad abused me. After a while, it felt like becoming a different person entirely. We’re all trying to make peace, and they’re more like passengers in my head nowadays, but sometimes they get the idea of trying to seize the wheel. Some introductions, then:

Susan: Me. The person who’ll talking to you most of the time. I basically wouldn’t exist if Troy and Julie hadn’t come into my life. Hi.

Sue: Sue was the one who kept me alive all those years. She was the one who could accept that her money and possessions could disappear any time Chad wanted them and figure out ways to do without; the one who’d wear heavy makeup to hide bruises while listening to Chad talk about how “that stuff’s not going to make you hot.” The one who’d beg a co-worker for half a Vicodin so she could get through the pain and smile for the customers. (The diner wasn’t classy enough to have “patrons.”) Have you ever carried drinks for a table of 12 with two broken ribs? Sue has.

Suzy-Q: Apart from being the single most unimaginative-yet-everyone-thinks-they’re-so-witty-and-clever-for-thinking-of-it thing that you can call someone named Susan; this is what Chad called me when he wanted to convey that I was his possession. Usually in the context of “Suzy-Q, bring my friends beers” or “Suzy-Q, quit crying and get your whore ass back in the bedroom!” She’s the one who’d try to make Chad happy and figured any day he’d stop hurting her as long as she did everything he said and sucked his cock and took him up the ass.

Suzy-Ho: As the name implies the whore of the group. When Chad had some humiliating sex thing he wanted me to do, Suzy-Ho is the one who’d shut my brain off and make the effort to enjoy it. Chad read something in Maxim and now he wants to try watersports? Suzy-Ho’s department. One of his douchebros is having a birthday? “Hey dudes, watch this: Suzy-Ho, give my bro a birthday blowjob.” (The bros were always bigger, and that’s not just traditional “bashing of the ex,” Troy and Julie can confirm this.)

So, you’re going to hear me refer to the others from time to time or they might have something to say themselves. Got that? Good. Back to the story.

“We’ve got some concerns about things since we got back from San Finzione,” Julie explained as she sat next to him and I took a seat on the armrest on his other side. “Helen got to both of us a bit, and we need to get it all out.”

“If it’s about the garage extension, I promised I wouldn’t try to build it myself,” Troy replied, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll get estimates, don’t worry.”

“It’s not about the car, Master. It’s about Helen. I don’t know what you and Helen talked about privately, but I’m sure Susan was a big topic.” Troy gave a little nod of agreement and Julie continued.

“I thought so. We made a promise to this woman,” she said, pointing to me. I replied with a smile and raising one of my stockinged legs up to rest my arm on it. “I know that if you’re having second thoughts, you might slack on it, and it’s to the point that Susan’s noticed as well. As for me, Helen talked about things that got me thinking too.

“I love Susan, and I don’t want her to ever feel like Helen told me she felt with us. Maybe it’s from all your Greekness that’s rubbed off me ... and, well, IN me as well.” The snickers from that one nearly killed the mood, but we pressed on. I was in the silent role for this stage of our plan, so I mainly smiled and tried to look as cheesecake as I could. “But when the two people I love most have a problem, I have a problem.

“Another thing I’ve picked up from loving a Greek all my life is that A Deal is A Sacred Thing. Negotiation is the time to try and fuck the other guy over, but once the deal’s made, you honor it always. I consider the combination of those two things an emergency and I don’t like to overdo this, since I asked for it in San Finzione, but you and I DO have something in place for emergencies that I think would help here.”

“You want to use the Special Trigger on me, Mistress,” Troy said, turning to look in her eyes more directly. “That’s what you’re coming to?”

Julie nodded. “I’d also like to do something I don’t usually and give Susan a couple of commands. We had a long ... well, talk is the wrong word. Let’s just say tongues were involved, and she’s agreed.” I continued Teller-ing. We had talked, you just didn’t see that part. It was while we were making each other up for Troy’s arrival. I didn’t want to bore you with long descriptions of us brushing each other’s hair and doing our nails.

Troy took another drink, then set it down and put a hand on each of our knees with a small smile. “Spider-Sense is telling me that this conversation is inevitably heading toward the bedroom.” I nodded, Julie nodded, and we all made our way to their room.

As you might expect from a couple who fuck a lot, have a lot of guests, and also fuck those guests a lot, their bedroom is impressive. Some of Julie’s paintings hang on the walls, except for one, which is dominated by a large trophy case full of special presents they’d given each other over the years. Julie’s panties from their first night together had been replaced as the newest item by a solid gold invitation to a ball at Castle Finzione. (I had to look at a map with a magnifying glass to even find San Finzione. It’s amongst some other tiny places in Europe that nobody’s heard of either.)

I took a seat on the chaise lounge on the left side of the bed, Julie’s side. She led him to the bed and sat on the lounge next to me. Troy undid his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. (I don’t know if they make you dress like that when you’re studying advanced economics or if it’s just a Troy thing that he goes to classes dressed like an accountant. Odd fashion sense runs in his family, I’m told.) As he finished undressing, Julie turned to me.

“Susan, I want you to understand what a measure of our love and trust it is that we’re sharing this with you. What I’m about to do to Troy, he can also do to me if the situation...” At that moment, Troy’s pants and briefs hit the floor. We both gave his not-yet-fully hard tool a glance before turning back to speak as he sat down. “arises,” Julie finished with a grin. Troy nodded in agreement and put his hands in his lap, looking straight at Julie. She shifted to face him and gazed into his eyes as she put her hands on his.

“Troy, there’s something I need to do inside my best friend’s mind.”

Troy looked around the room. He looked over at his own side of the bed for a moment, then looked at Julie’s hands on his and his gaze went to meet her eyes. That elicited an “aww” from her, which elicited a slightly confused look from me as his eyes glazed over and his mouth hung open a bit.

“His first impulse is to find the safest, most comfortable place to relax and go into a deep trance,” Julie explained. “He looked at his own bed, looked at me, and decided he was safer and more comfortable here with me.” I “aww-ed” at that too when his head bowed and his eyes and mouth closed.

Troy opened his eyes, but they weren’t his anymore. They were the eyes of everyone in the kind of movies they like that had followed a swinging pocket watch on a chain or been staring deeply into a villain’s eyes. (They really have one of those pocket watches. Well, Troy did. He gave it to Julie instead of a ring when he proposed. It was sweet.)