The Way We Lied

“Oh I think we could could skip the paperwork, don’t you? I could let you have all my particulars during the interview if you like. Don’t you think that would be the best way of managing the situation?”
He could not help but agree as she pouted at him and so they had made an assignation. She was a bold one. And here she was now, swinging her hips as she walked, her stilettos spiking the gravel. Nick greeted her with a handshake for the sake of the staff and then escorted her across the courtyard to the finished apartment. She was wearing a tailored suit with a striped shirt, which was neat and decorous if you ignored the tight fit and the split skirt.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Mrs Wilson,” Nick said, enjoying his role of prospective employer.
“It’s very kind of you to invite me along for an interview, Mr Haskell.” Alex shook his hand. “I take it the position is still vacant?”
“That’s correct.” He coughed and tried to hold in his laughter. “I’m still looking for the right person. So perhaps we should get down to business?”
They were two promiscuous personalities who perfectly understood the rules of this encounter. Nick ushered Alex into the flat and offered her a seat on the plump cream sofa, then sat opposite her on its twin. He smiled, thinking that at any moment she might burst out laughing, but she maintained her composure and her role as potential employee with an interested and alert expression.
“Perhaps I could start by asking you some questions first, Mr Harper, if that’s alright with you?” She crossed her legs and the split slid to one side, revealing stockings. “I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about the position you have in mind. Have you had many applicants?”
He smiled again. This was going to be fun. “None at all, Mrs Wilson. Or rather, should I say, none so far. You are in fact the first applicant. However, if we both felt that the position would suit you then I would see no reason to interview any further candidates for this particular opening.”
“I quite understand, Mr Harper.” She paused and gazed at him, then licked her lips. “So perhaps you could tell me more about the job itself then.”
Nick leaned back against the cushions, making himself more comfortable. He was enjoying this. So much better than a quick fumble as soon as the door was closed. “Well, it principally involves ensuring that I have everything I need and that I am satisfied with your productivity. And I should add that I value initiative and imagination most highly.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “It all sounds very interesting. I am sure it would not be beyond my capabilities. And could you also tell me something about the working conditions?”
“I generally conduct my work at whichever site is currently top of my list, such as this development.” He waved a hand to indicate the apartment and stroked the rich cream of the sofa. “But sometimes I have to go away on business and then I might set up a temporary office in a hotel in whichever town or city I happened to be in.”
“That seems like a very practical arrangement,” Alex said. “Now what about the equipment you will require me to use? Would you like to show me?”
Equipment? Nick looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“What are you expecting me to work with?” Alex asked, giving him a serious direct look. “Don’t you think it would be best if we checked it was something I could handle?”
Good God, was the woman asking him to undress, or at least expose himself? He was not afraid, he knew he would more than pass muster. But just to be sure of her intentions, he started by undoing the buttons of his shirt and then unfastening his belt.
“I really think I need to know more about the working conditions before I accept the position,” she insisted.
So he unzipped his flies and let her see. He thought he heard a little sigh escape her lips and then she said, “Is it working properly?” He knew what she meant. So he touched himself, just briefly, just enough to emphasise his asset.
“I think I need to see if you are properly qualified,” he whispered. Then he saw that she was parting her legs, her skirt had ridden high and he could see pink wetness and dark blonde. “Perfect. You’ve got the job,” he croaked. “Now can we get down to business?”
She was the perfect applicant, he said. He told her she was his ideal candidate because she was gorgeous, talented and delightful, which was what he assumed she would like to hear. But he actually wanted her as his mistress because while she was all those things, she was also undemanding, apart from in bed. She wanted him because she was bored and because she clearly liked captivating men for excitement and pleasure. He wanted her for now because Sarah was unadventurous and other women might have caused complications, becoming emotionally needy and tearful.
Alex was perfect. Nearly twelve months later she was still perfect, but he noticed now and then that she asked more questions about his work and his availability. He assured her that he had no intention of interviewing any other mistresses, which made her laugh. It was the truth, but he didn’t tell her about the woman he had met at the housing conference. The woman who was pricking his conscience. No, he hadn’t told her about that.

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