A Wager With Sadie: 018

The three of them walked the beach in the dark, all of them holding their shoes, going barefoot in the surf. Halfway around the resort’s crescent shape shoreline, she realized her husband had hung back a dozen paces behind them. Leaving her to walk alone with Quan. Very smooth, Teddy. Now she was smiling again, hoping her husband was suffering, but also kind of hoping that he was secretly also getting off on this. She had to admit it was fun. She said to Quan, “You know, I never would’ve pegged you for such a good dancer.”

“You wouldn’t?” he said, disbelieving.

“No, that sounds stupid, I mean, it makes sense. I saw you move in class, the yoga, I know you do the tai chi, too,” she said, moving her hands in slow motion kung fu cranes. “It makes sense, it’s just . . . you never expect it from such a big guy.”

“Oh,” he said. “Now I get it. You think I’d be clumsy.”

She laughed. “Not clumsy.”

“Oafish?”

“Not oafish . . .”

“Brutish?”

She stopped. Quan stopped as well, turning to face her, both of them ankle-deep in the cascading surf. She said, “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

He put his hands in his pockets, and in the nighttime blue she could see the large masculine silhouette of him. Could make out small details on his face; painted light on the edge of the cheekbone and jaw, running the small curve of his left ear. She could see his smile. He did have a nice smile. She chanced a look to the left to see that Teddy had slowed so he wouldn’t catch up to them. Letting them get acquainted. She said, “Boy, Teddy really fell behind.”

Quan, in his deep voice: “He sure did.”

She chuckled, feeling good with Quan—good and relaxed and actually very different. She said, “Are you going to tell me how Teddy asked you out for dinner tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“He sort of sprung this on me. Not that I minded having dinner with you at all,” she said, “in fact, I had an amazing evening.”

“I did too.”

“So what did Teddy say?”

That perfect smile of Quan’s grew wider, and now she was smiling too, the moonlight cast over his shoulder and lighting her face. He said, “What did you want to hear?”

“I want to hear what my husband said,” she said wryly, looking for leverage against her Teddy Bear.

“He didn’t talk to you?”

“He didn’t talk to me at all,” she said with humor.

“Okay, I got that sense,” Quan said chuckling.

“I think my husband has a certain . . . fantasy.”

“And you don’t?”

“Sorry,” she said, “I don’t.” Then feeling like it wasn’t quite true: “I mean . . .”

Quan gave a deep rumble of a laugh, said, “What do you mean, Sadie?”

She ran a hand through her thick hair, grumbling in her throat while shaking her mane out. She admitted: “I’ve been forced to entertain the idea.”

Quan nodded, considering her statement. “And how objectionable was it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not objectionable at all,” she said.

“What’s holding you back?”

She was surprised at his forwardness. Or bluntness. It sounded like he knew he was out tonight with a married couple and his role was to fuck the wife. She said, “I never thought it was my thing.”

Quan said, “I get the feeling Graham wants it.”

“I get that feeling too.”

He smiled wide again, then wagged a scolding finger at her. “You’ve been taunting him tonight.”

“Is it obvious?”

“No,” he said. “No, I believed you actually liked me.”

“Oh, shoot, Quan, come on,” she said, “you know I like you.”

He tossed his gaze aside, woebegone. “Yeah, but I’m just a toy between you two.”

She said, “That’s how you see it?”

“That’s not how you’re seeing it?”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said.

“Well, I guess whatever happened tonight, anyway, I was just going to be a toy, one way or the other.”

“I hope you’re not offended.”

“Not offended,” he said. “Disappointed. I thought you and I had a good time yesterday.”

“I had a great time.”

“We had fun, right, going up in the hills?”

“And on the dirt bike. I really did have fun, and I love my sarong.”

“You look good in it. I told you. Those colors . . .”

“It’s true,” she said, “but now I feel bad, feel like I used you.”

“Don’t worry about me. My heart isn’t broken. I’m just going to lament this missed opportunity.”

She smirked. “Oh, really?”

Quan shrugged it off with his body, but his expression still holding a measure of regret.

She glanced back now, Teddy still a dozen paces behind, standing in the surf almost up to his knees, his side to them looking at the moonlight, his hand above his eyes shielding the glare. But she was being watched in his periphery, she was sure of it.

“Missed opportunity,” she repeated aloud to herself.

Quan said, “I was looking forward,” and let his gaze move across her body.

“I guess I should be complimented.”

Quan said, “Shame you don’t feel the same way.”

She laughed. “About you?”

He said, “We were good on the dance floor.”

“We were,” she said, and now he held out his big hand spread open. Like he was inviting her out onto the dance floor.

She put her hand in his, feeling sheepish and feminine, and he closed her hand in his grip. “We were so good on the dance floor, I thought you’d really want to know what we’d be like in the bedroom.”

She gasped, and Quan gently pulled her against him. Still laughing, feeling young and playful, she punched him lightly on his chest. His broad, hard chest. She looked up into his eyes, this big confident young man looking down on her.

She said, “I think maybe you should come back to our villa . . .”

***

He joined them again halfway up the cold sand of the beach, off on their right saying, “What do you guys want to do now?”

And pow. It was Sadie saying, “I think Quan’s going to come back to the villa with us for a drink.”

He couldn’t help saying eagerly: “Really?” Totally blown away now that this was really happening. His heart started up fast in his chest, his stomach went light with butterflies, and the rational part of his mind said it was time to cancel. It’d been fun, but . . .

But he wouldn’t cancel. He really wanted it. It was this sudden realization for the first time ever since they started this weird thing (wait, since he’d started it) that Sadie was engaged. The way she said Quan was coming back to their villa didn’t seem like a coy game of play on her part, trying to make her husband (who she was a little mad at) suffer some angst. This sounded like now Sadie was considering actually doing this thing. The urge to gush and babble and talk too much seized him. It was a good and friendly feeling but he didn’t want to ruin it by getting giddy and juvenile—it took effort to maintain his cool.

“Sounds good,” he said. “Should we order something up to the room?”

Sadie said, “I think we have everything we need.”

Nice double entendre, Sadie. He nodded, grunted, looked back to see Quan put out his hand for Sadie and Sadie give him hers. His wife held Quan’s hand walking up the beach.

***

When Sadie joined him at the bar table in their villa’s living room he could tell by the look on her face she was really considering this. He had three crystal glasses on the bar top, a little ice in each and held a bottle of Gentleman Jack above, poised to pour. He smiled, said, “What are you thinking?”

Sadie left Quan out on the front patio sitting by their small square pool, only a dozen feet away or so, the door left open, so she spoke quietly, saying, “I’m not sure—what are you thinking?”

He stayed cool, smiled, poured a splash in each of their glasses saying, “I can tell by the look in your eye that—”

Indignant, she said, “What look in my eye?”

He chuckled, took his time returning the lid to the bourbon bottle, then faced her. Sadie’d backed herself to his side, leaning on the bar but watching out on their patio at the special guest her husband had invited for the evening. She’d toyed with her husband tonight, playing a game, heaping angst on him, but he’d waited her out; now the evening was winding down and his wife was starting to think maybe she didn’t want the fun to end.

He held the bottle at his waist in both hands, still taking his time, laughing again, feigning confidence, setting the bottle down on the bar. He touched Sadie’s cheek with the back of a finger. “Never mind the look in your eye, look at the color in your beautiful face.”

She flinched away from him, bothered, touching her palms to her cheeks now. “Am I red?”

“You look stunning, Sadie,” he said. “But your eyes are electric right now, and, yes, you’re blushing. But you wear it so goddam well. Look at me . . .” She did, and he continued: “I can tell you’re considering it.”

Now she was back to acting like he was crazy, frowning, saying, “Considering what?”

“I brought him here for us. He’s a great young guy and you know it. I told you what I want.”

“I can’t do that, Teddy,” she whispered, eyes out and watching Quan.

“All right, you don’t have to do anything. We had fun. I loved watching you dance with him, and I liked the way you teased me. If you want to quit you can. But you know—”

“We don’t have to quit . . .”

His heart jumped. “What then?”

“Well . . . like, we could . . .”

He chuckled, held her chin and kissed her. “Leave it to me,” he said.

***

Teddy handed Quan a glass of bourbon, and she joined them, standing off to the side and feeling strangely lightheaded and airy. Now it was the three of them standing at the side of their small pool on their hedged-in villa patio. It was cool but humid; all of them lit by the small lights in the side garden, and the glow coming from the villa’s low interior lights. It painted Quan’s black skin in a warm glow, putting a shine on his handsome features and the muscles in his large arms . . . Could she actually do this? There was an attraction there—Quan was charming, handsome, large, smart . . . and Teddy said he wanted it . . . and she was curious, she had to admit. But really going through with it seemed such a mountain to climb.

Teddy sipped his whisky in the sudden and uncomfortable silence. A wind chime made its hollow bamboo bonking, night birds called in the hill above their villa; ice clinked in their glasses. Teddy sniffed now, said to Quan, “Can I tell you how this started?”

“Teddy,” she scolded—that’s how he was going to handle it?

Quan said, “How what started?”

“Teddy, don’t,” she said.

“A wager,” he told Quan.

“That so?” Quan sipped his bourbon, eyeing Teddy, the two men acting like the woman wasn’t even here.

She moved closer. “Teddy thinks he’s good at pool.”

Teddy said to Quan, “I showed her I was good at pool.”

She said, “He had this one lucky shot,” rolling her eyes.

“It wasn’t luck, Quan,” Teddy said.

Quan said, “So what was the wager?”

She warned him: “Teddy, don’t say it.”

Teddy was undeterred, raising his eyebrows, saying, “You see, Quan, back in university—”

“Teddy,” she interjected, setting her glass of whisky down on a side table next to the lounger where Teddy would sit and read his book. Teddy paused and she came closer to get between the two men.

She looked in Teddy’s eyes, saw the humor there, saw that he would indeed go through with his story, putting some leverage her way, challenging her. She looked to Quan who was amused by both of them, here tonight because he wanted to sleep with the woman he’d spent a fun afternoon with and whose husband seemed to have a fantasy of watching her with another man—and she went on her toes, rested her hands on Quan’s broad chest . . . Quan dipped his mouth to hers and they kissed.

She closed her eyes, focused on the feel of his mouth—blown away by the foreignness, the non-Teddy feel of this man’s lips on hers. He had the softest, plumpest lips she’d ever felt, and his kiss was warm and made spicy by the bourbon. She liked it. Liked it and let her palms explore his muscular chest and shoulders. Then broke it off, getting down on her heels and stepping back, laughing, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and looking from Quan to her Teddy, measuring the excitement in both men—and liking that too. Teddy’s eyes had gone wild and submissive. There was that feeling of total control that she loved, and she giggled awkwardly again, knowing now there was a chance they could go through with this. Not all the way, but maybe her husband did deserve a little something. She said to Teddy: “You did make that shot.”

Teddy said, “A bet’s a bet, Sadie.”