Friday, March 22, 2013

Trixie Raconteur: La Maitresse en Titre

Trixie went and lit up the half finished blunt. Poured herself another glass of wine and sat thinking before the fireplace. It was after midnight but she knew he'd be awake. She'd missed their nightly call tonight dealing with Savannah. If he wasn't awake he wouldn't answer.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Here. Home. Something came up," she said, exhaling smoke. This stuff was way too strong.

They held the phone for awhile just listening to each other and the night sounds outside.

"I need a favor," she said without preamble.


"I know. I know. I'm sorry. You said I could ask and I got a situation," she said gently. Coaxing. Ideally she would have asked him in bed. But she was seriously worried and couldn't wait. His schedule was so busy that she spent half her life waiting for him to free up so they could see each other. She filled up that time running back and forth as an informal Ambassador  of Problem Solving on his behalf. So she was owed any favor she asked and more.

He didn't answer for a long time. This was their way. Just feeling each other through the phone lines when close proximity wasn't possible.

"What?" he asked finally. She heard the clink of ice cubes in the cut crystal glass he was drinking from.

"My girl Savannah? Who's been staying here with me? She needs a job," Trixie said. She ran down Savannah's resume to him. It didn't really matter because Trixie knew what job she wanted for Savannah and  he knew what job she wanted him to offer so this was merely a formality. But they both enjoyed the formality of hustling and bartering and bargaining. They were both excellent at the game even though they occupied such different spaces and roles on the chess board.

"Uh-huh," he said non-noncommittally. She waited.

"You know I've been interviewing for that position for weeks Trix," he said. She nodded into the phone. Drew off the blunt. Rolled her eyes. It's not that he was pretending to be difficult. He wasn't a difficult man. But like so many men he preferred complete mastery in his work domain, and he disliked having his hand forced.

Who didn't? she thought. She was busy considering how to square a few other of her business deals as he harrumphed and bitched under his breath. The fact was that she wasn't the nameless, powerless tart she had been all those years ago when they'd first met.

It's not that the balance of power was shifting so much as her own power had begun to rise. And this wasn't truly a favor, they both knew, because he owed her hugely and this was only the merest deposit in any sense.

"Let me see what I can do, Trix," he said.

"Mm-hm," she said low and pleasantly. She was hi-i-i-i-i-gh. There was no pain.

"Are we on for tomorrow?" he asked after a few quiet moments. The clink of crystal against crystal. He was pouring another drink from the decanter.

"Mm-hm," she answered from very far away.

"Go to sleep baby. Don't crash out in the living room. Get up and go to your bed," he said softly.

"Kay," she said.

"Put down the phone. Now," he told her. She cut the line and floated all the way back to her bed.

She was hoping to score Press Secretary for Savannah. But if he didn't wrangle that then she knew she could count on him to find a Legislative Aide spot. But really Savannah was great at press. He better come correct with that Press Sec position she thought.

And then she was asleep.


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