Chapter 4

The event at Jennifer's house on Sunday as they seem to her, another unreliable witness.

It had been a pretty eventful twenty four hours; at the beginning I was in bed feeling sorry for myself and hoping that Susan would feel inclined to get out of Earl's bed and do my marketing. I needed the marketing but it was her company that might cheer me up best. She phoned even earlier than I had hoped sounding rather mysterious and saying that she would be round quite soon and without Earl. That's quite ordinary; so ordinary that it was odd that she mentioned it. He's very conscious that I don't fancy him at all and he regularly avoids me. It's not that I dislike him but I never flirt with him in the way that he expects of all women. Also he is very conscious that Susan's office life is sharply separated fro[Mw1]m her domestic doings in a way that actively excludes him and I'm definitely business. I'm not sure how clearly either of them realise the existence of this barrier but I know I'm not the only person conscious of it.

When I heard the story of their bust-up I would like to have felt more sorry for him than I did. He'd had bad couple of days but I hoped that the shock would be good for him as well. Sadly, if Susan's report of his blustering was fair, it didn't sound as if he had learned the lessons I would hope for. Though I was glad to see her and would like to have been supportive I was still pretty sick and readily went up to bed when she sent me, leaving her typing away on her laptop. Before I went I made sure that she understood that I would be pleased if she stayed the night or as many nights as she needed while negotiating with Earl. I was truly glad to discover that she had taken this welcome for granted. She's a long way superior to me in an uncomfortable number of ways and I was grateful for the confirmation that I am her friend first of all.

By late evening Susan and I were watching trashy TV on the set in the spare bedroom. We'd gone upstairs to the back of the house so that Earl wouldn't be able to see anything we were doing if he cruised by again; not that there was going to be anything wrong (Sad!) but Susan felt unwilling to submit more of her life to his judgement. The set in my room is altogether better, a largish plasma for someone who spends too many solitary hours in bed, but I had been pretty ill and my bed wasn't fit to be occupied without clean bedding. We used one of the beds each; it's just possible to fit two in either of them but I was certainly avoiding contact that might lead to lovemaking. I couldn't have said then if Susan had the same problem though later she admitted that she too had been holding back but for slightly different reasons. I had been anxious that sex with me would complicate her life with Earl; she put propriety at work first. To her there was no doubt that keeping straight with Jenson, Sharone and Anderson rated higher than did any problem with her husband; not sure that I would put the firm that high though since I started there I haven't had anyone in my life who might compete. If I had let the urge get clearer maybe I would have come to the same conclusion; she is the best boss anyone could want and it would be madness to risk harming our situation.

Not only is she a great boss, so good at her job, but she has gone far out of her way to support me in my advancement. She's helped me with school qualification, when I go to pick up the parchment I shall have a Master's in Management earned part time from the best business school in Washington State. It was Susan who found a way directly into that class using my accumulated credits for vocational courses and work experience in place of an undergraduate qualification. She helped me gain bankable experience for work I did for her giving me room to exercise my own judgement in a way no manager had allowed me or anyone else I knew. She claimed that this had increased her own productivity but I had an uncomfortable certainty that at least at the beginning, steering me had been more time consuming than doing it all herself. I got better at it and I can never repay the trust, except with abiding admiring love.

When mom died she was like a second mother to me. She even took two of her own leave days to fly down to California to support me at the funeral. I've never got on with my father so he and I were not going to help each other much; I even felt I needed support to get me through the stuff I had to do face to face with him. Her negotiating skills found ways round problems that I was much too distressed to work on.

From the early days of working for her I've known that she was interested in other women. In fact, now I think about it, I'm not sure I ever saw her show much interest in any man apart from Earl before that sudden flash with John Stickner. He really is a sweety and I was so pleased for them both when she told me that something was likely to happen between them. If I could I would have dragged myself into work Thursday to see if they managed to get it together! If she felt an interest in me she had concealed it from me completely; I think I've managed to do the same with my very real interests in her.

Nothing had really changed but I had been very conscious of her body since today began with me waking sometime in the night after sleep had finally cleared whatever bug had been bothering me. She was crying in her sleep and that alone would have been enough to get me from my bed to hers to offer consolation. All the same I was very aware that we were both naked!

That nakedness had led us to talk about the degree of control Earl expected to exercise over her body; it felt much less surprising to me than she still found it but outside observers often see more than participants. I am dark skinned with black hair; if my mother's similar colour and texture is any guide I fear I shall see the first grey threads anytime soon. Susan is very pale skinned and avoids direct exposure to the sun for health reasons. Her hair too is black but straight and fine textured unlike my curly prickly mop.

I've only shaved any part of myself for a short time when one boy friend insisted that I did before he had me move in with him. I found this restriction unbearable and our relation was over so quickly that I don't count it if I'm asked about how many partners I've had. Susan had always shaved legs and under arms without much thought but his demand that she clean up round her arsehole and shape patterns on her mons took her completely by surprise. She'd given in and I thought it looked pretty; could imagine vividly how smooth it would feel. For her, however, it was an invasion and she regretted the loss of what she felt to be the natural beauty of that part of her body; one of the few parts of her that she felt truly to be beautiful. Neither of us admitted it but I think we were each admiring the beauty of the other's crack! I loved the way the lips pulled back to expose the well shaped shaft of her clitoris. Details like that are hidden in my hair but when I deprecated the hairiness of my thighs and pointed out the sprinkling of individual hairs at the edge of my areolas she made obviously sincere noises of appreciation.