Marie Adeline - Secret Shared

“Fine. I’m fine. And you’re fine. And Will seems fine too, which is great. We’re all fine, I guess,” I said, reapplying deodorant.

“I guess we are. And you’re right, Will is super happy. That’s for sure. But he’s also very anxious about the baby. Worrying about my health. So much so he’s, like …” She stepped closer to me and lowered her voice, cupping her hand around her mouth. “He’s … afraid to have sex with me. I mean it’s not like we don’t have sex. We do. But not as much as I would like, and—”

“Okay!” I held up a hand to stop this information from coming any closer to my brain.

“He thinks it’s going to hurt the baby—”

“Whoa. I don’t need to know that either. I mean … he’s my boss.”

“But you’re my friend, Cassie. Friends tell each other everything,” she said, plucking her waitressing pouch off the top shelf of her locker.

Friends? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. We were many things—colleagues, co-workers, rivals—but the last thing I ever would have expected was for Tracina to consider me a friend.

“Don’t friends keep each other’s secrets?” she went on, securing her pouch below her belly. “Sometimes my friends tell me other people’s secrets. But it’s by accident, of course. Have you ever done that?”

Her tone chilled me. Who were her friends? Angela Rejean and Kit DeMarco, to name a couple. They had danced together for several years in a row in Les Filles de Frenchmen Revue. I knew Kit babysat Tracina’s brother Trey now and again, and Angela offered to host Tracina’s baby shower. These three women had history. Lots of it. And though Kit, Angela and I shared S.E.C.R.E.T., who’s to say the bond Tracina shared with these woman was any less sacred?

Tracina cocked her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Cassie. What’s on your mind?”

Wanna know what’s on my mind? I wanted to scream. The endless ways in which I’d like your boyfriend to fuck me.

“Nothing.”

I applied some lip-gloss in the mirror next to her.

“Hot date?” she asked.

“Actually … yes,” I said, lying. But in a way not lying. I would call Mark. I would have a date with him. That wasn’t a lie.

“Ooh, with who?”

“Just some guy I met.”

“Anyone special?”

I thought for a second. “I don’t think so. But, you know, I might just fuck him anyway.”

And I left her alone in the washroom to pick her jaw up off the floor.

Why did I say that? Because I knew she’d tell Will. Hell, I wanted her to. And because sometimes you have to say things out loud to gather the gumption to go through with them.

The Coach House door was open. I tiptoed past the foyer into the reception area and found Danica on the phone. She covered the receiver with her hand.

“You’re early. Matilda’s at the Mansion, but she’ll be here in a minute. Go on in,” she whispered.

“Dauphine’s not here yet?”

“I’ll watch for her. A new girl! So exciting!”

The boardroom door was ajar so I slipped in and saw for the first time the mythical Fantasy Board, to which only the Committee was privy. It was usually kept hidden behind a sliding wall. But there it was in all its colorful glory. Some of the men’s names were struck out. Some I recognized. My heart sped up when I saw “Theo” on a purple card—my sexy French ski instructor—but there was a black slash through his name. There was also “Captain Archer,” the helicopter pilot who’d led me to “Jake,” the tugboat captain. Next to that was a card with “Captain Nathan” and a question mark; I didn’t recognize that name. I inched the board back a little more and saw more strange names, then two that made my heart feel like a deep bruise with a finger pushing on it, including ”Pierre Castille,” covered by an X. My fantasy with the Bayou Billionaire had been extraordinary. The Ball, that sexy limousine ride home; he was incredibly hot and so assured. But his attentions turned toxic after the burlesque show, when he just assumed I’d pick him over Will for my final fantasy. I figured the X meant the Committee had dumped him from the fantasy roster, something I would have suggested had I been asked.

But the other familiar name was Jesse, my third Step fantasy, and his card had a number two scrolled on it. Jesse! My sexy-as-hell, tattooed pastry chef. Had it been almost a year since he overcame me in the kitchen at the Café Rose? Each of the men I’d had sex with was amazing in his own right, but I had made a special connection with Jesse, one strong enough to almost cause me to quit my fantasies early for a chance to get to know him better. Matilda convinced me to stay in S.E.C.R.E.T., to push through. And though I was grateful in the end when Will and I tumbled into bed, now I wasn’t so sure I’d taken the right risk with the right man.

“Cassie!”

I almost leapt out of my skin at the sound of Matilda’s voice.

“You scared me!”

She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed.

“Cassie, you know better than to come in here unsupervised. You aren’t supposed to see the board unless you’re a full Committee member.”

“I can handle it. I mean, I knew some of these guys were coming back. What’s the rule? Three turns through S.E.C.R.E.T.?” I asked, keeping my voice from breaking. Why was I suddenly so upset?

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And how many more fantasies does Jesse have left as a participant?”

“He’s performed two. So … one more,” Matilda said gently.

“Pierre’s name is scratched out, I see.”

“After the way he treated you at the burlesque revue? The Committee feels he is no longer S.E.C.R.E.T. material.”

“I agree, which is such a shame. He’s very … well, you know. Have you told him yet?”

“No.”

“I’d love to listen in on that phone call, when the Bayou Billionaire’s told his services won’t be required.”

“Powerful men aren’t used to being rejected. Pierre Castille will probably be no exception.”

“So … Jesse. Is he completely off limits while he’s on the Fantasy Board?”

Why did I ask that? I knew the answer! Oh god, I sounded like a lovelorn teenager.

“Yes, he’s off limits. Unless you’re participating in a threesome scenario or training him. We may tee him up with Dauphine if her fantasy folder indicates an interest in his type.”

“Right. I see,” I said, hardly camouflaging my disappointment.

“Cassie, if you want us to put you and Jesse together again, to see if there’s still a spark, that can be done. But the rule is you then have to find a similar replacement recruit. Are you ready to replace him? To recruit a new man?”

She had me there and she knew it.

“I thought you only wanted to guide this year.”

“I do. I’m happy to guide.”

“So everything is as it should be.” She looked at her watch. “Why don’t you put some coffee on?”

I headed to the kitchenette off the foyer. I thought of the way Jesse had kissed me. That kiss. That hungry, searching kiss! The way he pressed me against the cool tiles. How he lifted me onto the prep table, bringing me to orgasm with his mouth, that mouth, just his mouth, because he never entered me … Oh god, there I was getting wet just thinking of the possibility of Jesse inside me, moving on top of me, his arm muscles flexing in the light … I had the sudden urge to waltz back into the boardroom and remove his name.

Danica stuck her head in the kitchenette.

“She’s here. Dauphine. She’s out at the gate. Ready?”

“Yup, sure, ready,” I said, my hands deep in my front pockets. “Let’s go!”

HOW MANY TIMES had I walked past this mansion without any idea what went on in here? I lived only a few blocks away. The possibility of a lusher life had been right under my nose, and yet I couldn’t see it and hadn’t known it. It’s funny how you don’t know you’re ready for change until it appears on your doorstep. I stood in front of that imposing, vine-covered gate on Third Street, contemplating entering. You can always leave, I told myself. You do not have to stay. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.

My unspoken motto in life had always been: if I can’t control it, I don’t trust it. It had worked with my business—I trusted almost no one after buying Charlotte out (Elizabeth being the rare exception), and I took control of the store myself. But my controlling nature had also prevented me from moving, changing and growing. I had stopped taking risks. Jeez, I even cut my own hair because I didn’t trust anyone else to do it. I’d sweep it to the front of my face and trim the ends in the mirror. Luke used to say it wasn’t Charlotte that broke us up, it was the fact that I stood frozen in the tracks of my life.