Forty Three

Lisa's place turned out to be a townhouse in one of the many anonymous complexes that had sprung up in the burbs. The complex security gate was open so I bypassed the intercom and searched the rows of white two story apartments sporting ugly aqua bands around their waists for number thirty eight. Single garages poked out from the front of each apartment and a tiny paved driveway led to the thin access roads.

A couple of cars pottered past in the other direction but it seemed a pretty quiet complex, and for all its conformity, it had the appeal of cleaniless that only new developments possess. I took a couple of wrong turns before finding the right laneway. I spied a pool and a tennis court on one of my unplanned detours. Mike's sugar daddy theory was starting to sound pretty accurate.

Thirty two, thirty four, thirty six... thirty eight. Lisa was in the garage with the door open. She was walking towards her unit. She swung around at the sound of my car pulling into her drive. She seemed surprised and then surprised again when she saw it was me. She walked towards me, gave the road a quick stare and then waved me to park in the shade inside.

I shook my head to indicate I was fine on the drive, but she waved again and I eased forward. She pulled the garage door down after me. 'I didn't expect to see you so soon. Eager?'

'Nice place,' I said after shutting the car door.

'Want the tour?'

'Sure.' She squeezed passed me with a come-on grin and led the way into a short hallway that connected the living area to the laundry and a downstairs toilet. I followed, struggling to work out exactly where to start my questioning and how to approach... things.

Downstairs was a pretty typical set up with a dining area, lounge and a nice kitchen with fancy tiles and inset overhead lighting. The only furniture so far was a couple of bean bags and a portable TV. The starkness invited echoes and an overall feeling of a somewhat impersonal loneliness.

I nodded and grunted the odd agreement as she pointed features like the tiny but neatly manicured back garden beyond the dining room. My anger had dissipated into uncertainty and being in private with Lisa in a new place was starting to scramble my priorities. I couldn't help remember the last time we were alone. I was staring at the kitchen bench, lude ideas swamping my mind when Lisa brought me back to reality.

'How was Mike? I thought you'd stay with him for longer.' She tried to asked innocently, but doubt flickered around her eyes.

'Mike's about as messed up as I've ever seen him.'

Lisa nodded and sucked her lips. 'I'm sorry,' she said softly.

I was pretty sure she meant it. 'He's worried about you.'

'He does that.'

It was my turn to nod. Here goes nothing. 'He was wondering how you could afford your own place... whether you would be alright.'

Lisa walked past me, swaying her butt in the way I loved so much until she leant against the window frame and looked out at the mini garden. For a fraction of a second I wondered whether she had deliberately swayed like that, but on reflection, I didn't think so. She seemed kind of pensive as she stood there with her arms crossed. 'Mike was wondering. And what about you?'

I was saved from answering by the polyphonic version of "Addicted to Love". I answered my mobile.

'Is this one of your freakin jokes?' demanded Gary. ''Cause it's not funny. I'm losing sales for nothing.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Mike. He's not here. So why am I?'

Damn. 'It's not a joke. I thought he'd be there.'

'Yeah well he's not. I've got to go to work.'

'Ok, well, thanks anyway.'

Gary grunted and hung up.

Lisa had sauntered back to me while I was on the phone. She stood barely three inches away. Her top, was like a polo shirt but sculptured onto her curves with perfection. She undid the last of three buttons that paved a trail from her neck to her chest. 'A problem?' she asked, her eyebrow arched.

'Er, no.' I was confused how we'd leapt from questioning her finances and the pensiveness that had apparently brought, to this. Even so, there was no denying the finery of the view.

She batted her eyelashes and said coyly. 'You haven't seen upstairs yet.'

'Er, yeah. I don't know.'

Lisa discarded her top in one smooth motion, letting it float to the floor.

My feeble vascilations went unheeded as Lisa took my hand and led me up the staircase. A few doors led from a small landing, a bathroom, Lisa's room at the front and I guessed another bedroom at the back.

Despite the lack of any other furniture, Lisa had apparently found time to organise a queen sized bed. She slinked towards it, dragging me in her wake. Part of me was shouting no, but the larger part was calmly rationalising that we could discuss any issues we may have later.

Lisa knelt on the bed. She took my hands and rubbed them around her curvy hips, up to her slim waistline and up her sides. Her smooth skin yielded under my touch, revealing soft flesh between the gentle bumps of her ribs.

'Lisa...'

She put a finger over my lips. 'Don't spoil it, Des.'

I didn't want to spoil it. The temperature was rising in my pants. But...

'This is what you want isn't it? This is what I am?' She unzipped my pants.

Disturbed by her words I half-heartedly flicked her hands away. 'What?'

Her fingers persisted as she spoke. 'A hot chick? A good lay? That's all I am isn't it?'

I prised her hands off my belt and paced back. 'What's gotten into you?'

'Just about everybody? Didn't you know? Isn't that what you're saying? Whoever can pay the admission price. Isn't that right? But who's playing who Des? Huh? Men are like tiles. Lay them right the first time, you can walk over them for life.'

'Look, I didn't mean...'

'What?'

I shrugged. It was pretty much what I meant.

'Then tell me this,' said Lisa leaping off the bed in her bra and tight pants with her hair flying wild - she'd never looked hotter. 'What was your price of admission? I'm guessing your wallet's pretty light.' She spat the last words with disdain.

All I could do was shrug again. She had a point. I was about to revert to Des's first rule when a cacophony of thumping erupted downstairs. Lisa and I stared at each other in shock.

'What the hell-'

'I know you're in there! Des! Lisa! Open the freakin' door!'

'He said he didn't know where you lived,' I hissed at Lisa.

'He didn't,' she returned. 'He must have followed you.' She rushed out of the room.

Forty-Four