Sex, Lies and Her Impossible Boss. Jennifer Rae

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      FOUR

      Patricia Fellows was the kind of woman that you expected to be inside her cosy family home baking cakes. She was round and jolly and constantly cracking dad jokes.

      Cash glanced at Faith. If she thought he was going to sit in this woman’s backyard and have her bring him to orgasm with her energies—she was mad. And he was done.

      He’d been willing to humour Faith. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the thought of her leaving. She was the only person he knew who could sit him down, shut him up and fascinate him for longer than two minutes. And he didn’t want her to go.

      But her show had to. It wasn’t right for the station and it wasn’t bringing in the advertising dollars it needed to stay feasible. But she was right—her ratings were good. The viewers did enjoy the show. His mind flickered over the options. Perhaps the production team needed some help with direction. Maybe it was the script that needed work.

      Wait. No. He didn’t want to keep the show on. He needed more advertising dollars. Sport. That was what brought in the big bucks. Cash twisted his neck from one side to another. Faith was trying to sell him something he didn’t want to buy. From now on he was going to make a concerted effort to not listen to her.

      ‘Golly, you’re a handsome boy,’ gushed the elderly woman brandishing an incredibly long red stick with tassels each end. Cash stepped back. He didn’t know what she was planning on doing with that stick, nor did he have any intentions of finding out.

      ‘This is my boss. Patricia, Cash Anderson.’

      ‘Gosh, if I had a boss like that I’d come to work dressed in nothing but a pair of very tiny black panties every day.’

      Right. This was uncomfortable. Especially as Patricia was now licking her lips as she looked at him. As if he were a particularly juicy set of BBQ ribs and she hadn’t eaten in a week.

      ‘I might just sit this out and watch.’

      ‘No! No. We don’t normally get ones who look like you here. You will be the star of the show!’ Cash now knew how Hansel and Gretel must have felt.

      ‘Actually, Cash is only here to observe,’ said Faith firmly. She glanced at him and smiled. A playful smile he felt deep down. ‘He’s still learning.’

      ‘Oh.’ The disappointment was obvious in Patricia’s tone. Her eyes turned frosty. ‘Sit over there,’ she demanded, waving her stick.

      A few other people had started to arrive. Mostly middle-aged couples named Barry and Sharon who all seemed to know each other. Faith received a lot of handshakes and hugs and everyone seemed to know who she was. They were all fans of her show. She managed their gushing well, he thought. She answered their stupid questions, laughed at their awkward jokes. Then she stepped back as the session began.

      ‘Tantra brings harmony to all parts of our lives,’ began Patricia as she started handing out silk kaftans. The men and women in the circle seemed to know what to do and immediately start to strip off, replacing their clothes with the kaftans. Cash shifted his feet and tightened the grip on his folded arms. This wasn’t what he signed up for. He had no interest in watching a few horny old men shake their willies about.

      Faith leaned in. ‘Don’t worry. You won’t see anything.’

      He glanced at her. She moved a little closer, as if pressing her arm against his would reassure him, but he didn’t feel reassured. He felt uncomfortable and now aware of the woman next to him. A woman who was making his life difficult at the moment by not agreeing to move on to something else and allowing him to shut down her show. It was what the station needed and he’d find her something else—he liked having her around. For once he didn’t feel so numb.

      Faith smiled. He noticed how bright her eyes were. Blue and a little sparkly in the sun. And her teeth; white and straight. She was gorgeous, too gorgeous. But a little bit bonkers. Just don’t listen to her, he reminded himself.

      ‘Tantra is about respecting and harmonising our bodies, our souls and our hearts.’

      His attention was dragged back to the circle of people whom Patricia was now directing to sit next to their significant others—their arms touching—just as his was touching Faith’s. He held steady. Faith was attractive and she had a great body. Why couldn’t he touch just a little? They weren’t at the office and nothing was ever going to happen between them. He’d told her in the car they were just two people enjoying the sunshine. What was the harm in thinking that for a few minutes? A few minutes’ escape before he went back to the real world. Before he became numb again. He heard the twittering of birds in Patricia’s garden and felt the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck and allowed his shoulders to relax a little.

      ‘First, we start with pelvic floor muscle exercises. This strengthens the grip of your “yoni”—the part of a woman’s body that makes her a sexual being,’ explained Patricia as she wandered between the couples, her voice becoming softer. ‘Making it more pleasurable for the man’s sexual core—his “lingam”.’

      Nothing too weird yet. Most people had their eyes closed, a few were whispering to each other—but as their pelvic muscles were packed away safely behind their kaftans, Cash was happy to watch.

      ‘Now it’s time to turn to each other and tell each other what makes us happy.’

      The couples started murmuring and Patricia looked up.

      ‘You too, Faith. I’ve told you before you can’t come if you’re not going to join in.’

      Faith’s blue eyes swivelled to his. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘But Patricia thinks I’ll make everyone uncomfortable if I don’t join in. I usually come alone to do my research but seeing as you’re here...’

      ‘It’s fine. You can tell me what makes you happy.’ Strangely there was a pull inside him that wondered what did make her happy. Faith was always busy, always running. She seemed to be searching for some kind of answer and he was beginning to wonder exactly what was the question.

      ‘We should sit.’ She sat cross-legged on the grass. Cash shifted his body down. Too many years of bone-crushing rugby meant there was no way in hell he’d be able to sit cross-legged, but he managed to prop one knee up and spread the other out before he realised he had her encased within his legs. She looked small sitting there. Her hair was down and curled around her shoulders and her light skin glowed in the sunshine. Something else pulled at him—but he ignored it. Not the time. Not the place. Definitely not the girl.