See Me .(3)
He wiped the mist from his face, toed a strayed rock, and turned back toward his truck. Stopped, turned again.
Fuck it! No soul left anyways.
* * * *
Abigail poured a steady stream of water into the potted violet on the windowsill. “What is he doing out there? He’s been sitting in that truck for like twenty minutes.”
Ron, Abigail’s assistant slash one and only friend, gathered the appointment calendar and headed toward the window. “It’s a big decision, Abs. Give him a minute. It’s not every day someone hits you up at the gym and asks you to star in a porn film.”
She tipped her head toward the book in his arms. “You gave him my card, right? Check it again. Are you sure he said two o’clock? I mean, if he decides to bolt, I’m up shit creek without a paddle. You said he was skittish. Hell’s fire, you said you’ve never even seen him talk to anyone at the gym. I need him. I trust your judgment, and if he’s anything like you say, we have to do anything to get him. It’s hard enough finding guys in this area. I’m tired of flying them in. This order has been open for three weeks because we don’t have the right guy for the part. You sure he’s tattooed all the way up his arm? I mean, it has to be all the way up and over the shoulder. And he’s hung, right?” She motioned to the crotch of her jeans. “I mean like really well-endowed down there.”
“Yup, here it is. He said two o’clock.” Ron pointed to the box dated June 2. “And yes, worrywart. I’ve seen the guy buck naked, and he’s tatted with some kind of black tribal stuff. I told you he fits the client’s request perfectly…even down there.”
Abigail tapped her fingertip against the window. Her breath fogged the glass as she squished her nose against the warm pane. “Please, please. Please get out of the truck.”
“Let me call him. Abs, you have to back up, or he’s going to see you.”
She kept her gaze glued to the white truck sitting in the front parking lot. She needed this guy. The client was from Germany. She couldn’t help but smile. Italy, Spain, Ireland, England, and now Germany. Her little company that started out as a way for her to relieve her own tension had grown into an international phenomenon. “He can’t see me through the rain. Can he?” She spun around. “Oh, shit! What if he can see me, and he doesn’t want to come in because I’m watching him? Shit, shit! Ron, do something!”
Ron set the book on the metal desk. “Sit down. You’re getting your underwear in a twist again. Damn, I can’t convince the stud to come in and babysit your nerves at the same time. Now stop biting your nails and keep your mouth shut.”
She plopped down into the black office chair and took two deep breaths. She owed him at least the courtesy of being less annoying. Ron had been a good friend—scratch that, a great friend. Through the nightly phone calls and panic attacks, he was there, soothing her without pushing for too much information. He’d been there four years ago when she’d arrived at Westside High in Macon, the terribly shy “new girl” who always sat alone in the teacher’s lounge. Until the day Ron sat down beside her and shared his PB&J. It made Abigail feel much better when Ron confessed he was gay. His muscular size didn’t seem quite so frightening after he shared his secret.
Ron even came to her apartment when she was let go because she’d called off work on too many occasions. It was easier to call in sick than to tell the front office she just couldn’t get out of bed, that she was afraid to leave her apartment because her ex-husband could be waiting by her car or around any corner, for that matter.
The first two years after the divorce were spent in such a grip of fear that leaving her small apartment made her insides shake and wasn’t an option.
Eventually, the courage to live outweighed the despair to die, and she gathered what little guts she had and went for a walk, the threats from her ex still lingering in her ears. After so long spent running, she wore down. The cravings to satisfy her needs were too great to be ignored any longer. She had to figure out how to find pleasure in a secret way, in case her ex was watching.
She wanted to see romance, kissing, touching, all the things her usual videos lacked. Out of necessity, she hired two students from the university to star in a personalized adult film, for her eyes only. Then, after joining a few online chat groups, she discovered she wasn’t alone. There were others out there like her. Once she realized their needs were as great as her own, she started an online adult-film site for customized videos.
Ron was supportive when she told him her idea. Matter of fact, he was so excited he quit his history teaching gig and hired himself. The day Abigail had turned her first $1,000 profit, which was the first day they opened the online site, they celebrated over enchiladas and margaritas.