what number she phoned from last night, when Cecily was producing the show?”
Grover frowned and attacked the keyboard. A second later I was looking at a fresh screen. He glanced at the display on the monitor, and then at the scrap of paper in my hand. “Same number,” he said.
I nodded, and shrugged. I rubbed my chin ruefully. “You know last night when that woman phoned in, Cecily was clutching a phone, and April had disappeared into the ladies’ room. I honestly thought the mysterious Sondra was one of them.”
“You thought it was someone from the radio station?”
I nodded, but with less conviction now that I thought about it. “I did – at the time,” I confessed.
Grover got up from the chair and tugged at his beard. He drifted around the booth for a few moments, touching things absently. Finally he turned back to face me, his expression serious, his face grey and ashen.
“April’s not the type,” he said. “She’s in the ladies’ room right now getting herself off with a vibrator most probably. She’s like that… she’s the ‘all talk, no action’ kind of cock tease that gets a guy hot and bothered and then backs out at the last moment.” Grover scratched his chin. And Cecily…” he shrugged. “Well maybe….”
I know how to read body language, and I know when someone says something and leaves things unsaid with a significant pause. Grover lapsed into exactly that kind of meaningful silence.
“Say it,” I encouraged.
He eyed me speculatively, like he was trying to decide whether he could trust me. Finally he grunted and averted his gaze as though what he was about to reveal was awkward for him.
“If it’s anyone, it’s probably Cindy,” he said at last in a rush of words.
I flinched. “Cindy?” For a second I was dumbfounded. “The receptionist? She’s only a kid!”
Grover nodded. His mouth was twitching and twisting. “She’s twenty,” Grover said. “When Nancy Collett caught me with my hand up a young girl’s skirt… it was Cindy’s pussy I had my fingers inside.”
What the hell?
“Are you serious?”
Grover nodded. “She was eighteen at the time. I was fucking her every morning after the show. She would meet me for lunch. She’s kinda crazy, man. Know what I mean? She loves sex, and she’s right into this whips and chains stuff you talk about.”
I was reeling. My impressions of young Cindy were that she was an awkward nervous intern, not a committed nymphomaniac with an insatiable thirst for sex and submission.
“How did Collett even find out?”
Grover walked another restless lap of the producer’s booth, like it was a cage. “One day after the show, Cindy was hornier than usual,” Grover started shaking his head like he wished he could erase the memory. “We were in the ladies’ room. I had her bent over in one of the stalls, her skirt up around her perfect little ass, taking her from behind. She was clinging to the wall, pushing back against me and grunting as we screwed. Collett came into the washroom and found us together. That was when I learned a big life lesson.”
“Which was…?”
Grover thrust a finger at me like he wanted to make an important point. “You should never dip your pen in the company’s ink.”
I sighed, threw my gaze up at the ceiling, then slowly shook my head. It all made sense. I remembered Sondra talking just a few minutes before about exactly the same kind of fantasy.
Sondra must be Cindy!
Chapter 8.
I was waiting in the studio when April came rushing back through the door. She swept hair from her face and dropped into her chair, one eye fixed on the wall clock. Her breathing was ragged and there was a flush of warm color across her chest. She glanced at me with a flicker of self-conscious guilt.
“You look worried… or nauseous,” she said in a breath. “Did you drink the coffee?”
I brushed the question aside with a hint of a smile. “And you look… satisfied …” I said, arching one
Grover frowned and attacked the keyboard. A second later I was looking at a fresh screen. He glanced at the display on the monitor, and then at the scrap of paper in my hand. “Same number,” he said.
I nodded, and shrugged. I rubbed my chin ruefully. “You know last night when that woman phoned in, Cecily was clutching a phone, and April had disappeared into the ladies’ room. I honestly thought the mysterious Sondra was one of them.”
“You thought it was someone from the radio station?”
I nodded, but with less conviction now that I thought about it. “I did – at the time,” I confessed.
Grover got up from the chair and tugged at his beard. He drifted around the booth for a few moments, touching things absently. Finally he turned back to face me, his expression serious, his face grey and ashen.
“April’s not the type,” he said. “She’s in the ladies’ room right now getting herself off with a vibrator most probably. She’s like that… she’s the ‘all talk, no action’ kind of cock tease that gets a guy hot and bothered and then backs out at the last moment.” Grover scratched his chin. And Cecily…” he shrugged. “Well maybe….”
I know how to read body language, and I know when someone says something and leaves things unsaid with a significant pause. Grover lapsed into exactly that kind of meaningful silence.
“Say it,” I encouraged.
He eyed me speculatively, like he was trying to decide whether he could trust me. Finally he grunted and averted his gaze as though what he was about to reveal was awkward for him.
“If it’s anyone, it’s probably Cindy,” he said at last in a rush of words.
I flinched. “Cindy?” For a second I was dumbfounded. “The receptionist? She’s only a kid!”
Grover nodded. His mouth was twitching and twisting. “She’s twenty,” Grover said. “When Nancy Collett caught me with my hand up a young girl’s skirt… it was Cindy’s pussy I had my fingers inside.”
What the hell?
“Are you serious?”
Grover nodded. “She was eighteen at the time. I was fucking her every morning after the show. She would meet me for lunch. She’s kinda crazy, man. Know what I mean? She loves sex, and she’s right into this whips and chains stuff you talk about.”
I was reeling. My impressions of young Cindy were that she was an awkward nervous intern, not a committed nymphomaniac with an insatiable thirst for sex and submission.
“How did Collett even find out?”
Grover walked another restless lap of the producer’s booth, like it was a cage. “One day after the show, Cindy was hornier than usual,” Grover started shaking his head like he wished he could erase the memory. “We were in the ladies’ room. I had her bent over in one of the stalls, her skirt up around her perfect little ass, taking her from behind. She was clinging to the wall, pushing back against me and grunting as we screwed. Collett came into the washroom and found us together. That was when I learned a big life lesson.”
“Which was…?”
Grover thrust a finger at me like he wanted to make an important point. “You should never dip your pen in the company’s ink.”
I sighed, threw my gaze up at the ceiling, then slowly shook my head. It all made sense. I remembered Sondra talking just a few minutes before about exactly the same kind of fantasy.
Sondra must be Cindy!
Chapter 8.
I was waiting in the studio when April came rushing back through the door. She swept hair from her face and dropped into her chair, one eye fixed on the wall clock. Her breathing was ragged and there was a flush of warm color across her chest. She glanced at me with a flicker of self-conscious guilt.
“You look worried… or nauseous,” she said in a breath. “Did you drink the coffee?”
I brushed the question aside with a hint of a smile. “And you look… satisfied …” I said, arching one
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