They told me to sleep on it, that we’d talk about it again in the morning.
I bet they thought I’d be more relaxed, “less emotional,” in the morning. But I woke up even more determined than I’d been the night before. No way was I going to betray my new friend, Sasha. No way was I going to let her secret get out because of my carelessness.
I phoned Greta. She couldn’t help me with the current problem, but at least she would understand. And that’s what I wanted at the moment; I wanted someone to understand my feelings.
“Greta, how’s it going?”
“It’s going great, thanks. Though surely not as great as it’s going for you.”
“Actually, going through a bad spot at the moment.”
“Tell me everything.”
I tried to get her up to speed as best as I could. Though I suggested, the neighbors were just nosy. I downplayed the fact that I had gotten mixed up in corporate espionage and had started tangling with hired spies. That was just the sort of thing that would get Greta worried. I didn’t want to make her worry.
“So, if you don’t get the camera from these neighbors,” said Greta, giving a very efficient summary of my long-winded tale, “you’ll feel like you’ve betrayed Sasha because you promised her she could trust you with her secret.”
“Does that make sense?”
“I understand how you’re feeling. Though, it’s kind of a gray area with the dinner party. I don’t think you can blame yourself for what happened, but I know you will.”
“Blame has a way of ignoring gray areas, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Unfortunately, we know this all too well.” Greta sighed. “And your—let’s call them documentary crew—your documentary crew doesn’t see it that way. They say it’s not worth going after the camera. Let it go.”
“That’s right.”
Greta let out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s so hard getting a good documentary crew these days, isn’t it?”
“They’re a very good crew,” I said. “It’s just…”
“It’s just that they don’t want to help you commit crimes and risk their lives?”
“Well, when you put it like that.”
“Bonita, I’m taking your side on this. But that’s only because you’re my soul sister, not because I think what you’re saying makes much sense.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I mean, it makes sense emotionally. But realistically and practically.”
I groaned inside.
“You’re seething, aren’t you?” said Greta.
“Not seething. I am upset, though. I’m so sick of everyone trying to look after me, telling me what to do.”
“Can I tell you something you don’t want to hear?” Greta asked.
“Sure.”
“You’re lucky to have people looking after you, telling you what to do. Those are people who care about you and who want you to be safe.”
I couldn’t argue with Greta on that one. Greta had been abandoned by her parents when she and her brother were very young. And they drifted from foster home to foster home until she graduated from high school and could get her own place.
Greta, like always, put things into perspective.
That still didn’t make me want to get the camera back any less. But at least I didn’t feel alone and misunderstood. Just misunderstood.
I decided I’d have to talk to the boys individually. I didn’t need them all on board, maybe just two or three. I decided Ken and Noah would be the easiest to convince to come with me. But even though they were both in great shape, I still wanted some Will or Ben muscle along for the journey. They would be more difficult to convince.
The boys were all passed out in the Polar Trinity. I went to Ken first. I sat next to him, took his hand, and placed it on my lap. He only turned slightly on the sofa but didn’t wake up.
I slid my hand down his loose-fitting boxers. He stiffened for me instantly. He turned slightly more. I stroked him, and his hips rocked along with my movement.
He started to moan, so I put a finger to his lips. He awoke, startled. I covered his mouth to stifle his cry.
I looked around; no one had woken. Then I put a hand over my mouth to cover up my giggling. I motioned with my head to the bedroom and invited him to come with me.
I didn’t need to ask twice.
Once inside, he shut the door and tackled me onto the bed.
“Wait, Ken. I need to talk to you.”
He had undone the buttons of my jeans and was pulling them off my legs.
I giggled again. He’d been sound asleep not two minutes ago, and now he was a raging lunatic.
“You talk,” said Ken, “I’ll fuck.”
I grabbed a pillow and slapped him with it.
He grabbed a pillow and smacked me back. “Oh, so you want it rough, do you?” he said. “Good. Because I’m going to tear up that fine ass of yours.”
I leapt off the bed, ran over to the desk and grabbed the chair. I held it out between us with both hands. “Wait a second, Ken. Seriously, we need to talk.”