The Chosen

my life right now—making excuses.

“Don’t make excuses,” Donna said, ever the psychic. “You’re pretty easy to read, Vera. Why not just get it over with?”

“I know you’re right.” Vera fingered a paperweight. “I’ll go soon.”

“No, you’ll go tomorrow. There’s no reason to put it off anymore. You’ll feel a lot better once you get it over with, believe me. Tomorrow. No more excuses. If you run late, we can handle things in the restaurant till you get back.”

Vera nodded. She’s right. It’s time. “All right, I’ll go tomorrow—”

“You’ll see. If you don’t let it out, it’ll simmer inside you forever. Go tell that scumbag off.”

“I will,” Vera agreed. “Tomorrow. I promise.”

“And, besides, once you’ve got Paul out of your system, you can start thinking about getting laid again!” Donna was kind enough to add, laughing at Vera’s quick smirk. “Anyway, I’m off to bed; I’m absolutely exhausted.”

“Goodnight.”

“Oh, and remember, my offer’s always good. Anytime you want to borrow my doctor, just let me know.”

“Your doctor?” Vera queried.

“Yeah…Doc Johnson!” Donna finished, and left the office before a trial of more laughter.

Laugh it up, Vera thought. She was weary of everyone implying she was a cranky, sex-starved bitch—

Even though it’s true…

It annoyed her, that her thoughts so often roved to sex. It made her feel inadequate. Whenever she saw Kyle, or even heard his name, she thought of her dream, the fantasy of The Hands, a dream she now admitted she looked forward to. And lately, she’d caught herself appraising male restaurant customers in secret—checking them out, envisioning their bodies minus clothes, wondering what they’d be like in bed.

And then there was always Feldspar…

I wonder what he’d be like—

She grit her teeth, shook her head. What is WRONG with you! You’re fantasizing about sleeping with your boss!

But the image behind the question lingered, as much as she tried to banish it.

She poured herself a little wine, to relax. She hated to think of Feldspar’s reaction were he to know that such things crossed her mind. She could not deny it, though: Feldspar attracted her, in some odd, incalculable way. It was the man’s mystery, she supposed.

Kyle, on the other hand, she was attracted to only in the roughest sense. Purely physical, she told herself. It couldn’t be anything more than physical, she knew, because she couldn’t stand him as a person. Snide, egotistical, smartass. But…

So good-looking.

She began to feel sluggishly excited. She was tired-it had been a long day—yet she knew the root of her excitement. Soon, she’d go to sleep and dream. She only wished she could exchange the sponsor of the fantasy—Kyle—with someone she liked, or just anyone, anyone other than the rude room-service manager. Chief Mulligan? she thought and laughed to herself. An obese redneck twenty years her senior? No thanks. But that reminded her of the bizarre call she’d gotten today, the police sergeant reporting that Mulligan hadn’t been seen since yesterday. Probably passed out at Elks Lodge. And