Lester's Keeper

2) Country Ride

The timing couldn't have been better. She was navigating the conversation into choppy waters. She was going to feel different alright. He would too, but he was pretty sure they'd be occupying opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. 

"Must be. Time to go, I guess." 

He killed the engine and they each stepped out of the car. He stood tall and self-aware, shoulders high and chest out. Her posture was delicate and unimposing. He armed the car's alarm and proffered his keys and cellphone. Without speaking she accepted them and placed them in her purse.  

The driver of the limousine was already outside of the vehicle, uniformed and standing stiffly by the open rear door of the vehicle. "Mr. Latroy?" the driver asked.  

"That's me. How's it going man?" Lester clapped a hand upon one of the driver's broad, solid shoulders. 

"Woman," the driver said. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I am not a man," the driver said without humor.  

Lester paused, eyes wide and leaned close to the driver, tilting his head to maximize the illumination from the light overhead. "Holy shit! Sorry man... ma'am. I didn't know women came in your size. You play football?" 

"No," she said. "Never." 

Her voice remained even but he detected a flicker of the skin beneath her eye. Lester had touched a nerve, he realized. He figured if a woman looked like that it was either due to emotional baggage, or she picked up the baggage as a result. Lester cupped a hand over his mouth and snorted laughter. "Shit. I'm sorry Ma'am. No offence intended." He turned to Maggie with a broadcast expression of mock exasperation and slid into the rear seat of the limousine. 

Maggie looked at the driver apologetically. "Sorry," she mimed.  

The driver nodded. "Ma'am." 

Maggie climbed into the back of the limo and took a seat by Lester. The driver closed the door behind them and took her place in the front. "Journey time will be approximately fifteen minutes," she said. "Water and soft drinks are in the refrigerator by your feet." 

"No booze?" Lester asked over the driver's shoulder. 

"Water and soft drinks," the driver repeated, and pushed a button that raised a tinted window between driver and passengers, with a faint hum. 

"I guess I didn't endear myself with him," Lester said with a grin. 

Maggie shushed him. "She can probably still hear you. Don't be mean." 

"Oh, he's a big guy, he'll be fine. You always were too soft for your own good." 

The driver navigated the limo out of the parking lot and they set off into deepening country in the darkening night. Lester grabbed a cola from the car's refrigerator and passed Maggie one when she asked for it. There was an excitement building in him and he sat restlessly, humming assorted tunes and bobbing his head in time to them. Maggie was still and watched the night pass by the car as the limo cut smoothly through the countryside. Occasionally she touched her wrist to the coolness of the window before delicately transferring the chill to her cheek. 

"So," Lester began after a few minutes in the car, "Is your friend going to be here?" 

Maggie turned to him and appeared confused. "My friend?" 

"Yeah. You know, the sexy slut who told you about this place." His head continued to bob to the beat of some private tune. 

Her mouth hung open. "Sexy slut?" 

"You know what I mean." Lester laughed. "The attractive, empowered lady who told you about the place." 

"Good recovery," she said with a wry expression. "I doubt she'll be here. She didn't say she was a regular or anything." 

"Shame. She sounded fun. How did she know about the place anyway?"  

"I guess she and her boyfriend found it together," she said. 

"And she recommended it?" 

"Highly." Maggie offered. "She said you'll never experience anything like it again." 

Lester's eyes were wide and a flush was rising on him. "This is going to be great." 

She returned her attention to the passing countryside. Her gentle gaze and features suggested introspection. He wondered if she was freaking out. His smile broadened at the thought. That just made things even more exciting.  Of all the boastworthy experiences he had talked himself into in his 25 years, this had to be the best. He truly was a smooth motherfucker. Maggie was usually so square, too. Talking her into this had been elite persuasion. It was probably time he had a nickname to reflect his abilities with the ladies. The Bitch Whisperer? He nodded to himself. Not bad. He would drop that one in front of his boys and see how they responded, maybe when they were paying him his winnings tomorrow. 

For a moment he wondered if his success in convincing Maggie was in any way influenced by damaged self-esteem? Since her father died, the comfort eating had been slowly taking its toll. She was a little loose around the middle now that he thought about it. Was it possible that her willingness was a matter of lowered self-regard and not the direct result of his skills? His face dropped in the darkness of the limousine's back seat. He didn't like that idea at all. No. She was still the same girl and her self-esteem was fully intact. The fact was he had played her like a maestro. He nodded to himself and the smile began to creep across his face again. 

The Bitch Whisperer 

It really did have a ring to it. He put an arm around Maggie's shoulder. She turned to him and he threw her a wink and a smile.  

"Love you, Babe." He had to keep her confidence up, tonight of all nights. Just another couple of hours and his work would be done. 

"Love you too, Lester." 

Lester glanced at his watch and remembered it didn't keep time. "What time is it? We should almost be there, right?"

The window separating them from the front seat's hummed and lowered a couple of inches.

"Two minutes, Mr. Latroy," the driver said. The window hummed and slid closed again.

"Holy shit." Lester smiled. "She really could hear me."

A chesty laugh sounded through the partitioning window.

Maggie shook her head. "Told you so."

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