Dark Plums by Maria Espinosa Read Free Book Online

some large worksheets. She was a bony woman with sharp features.
    â€œWhich boyfriend is it this time?” asked Rose.
    â€œWho’s keeping count?”
    â€œHi, precious,” said Alfredo on the other end.
    The sound of his voice swept away Adrianne’s fatigue. Although it was awkward to talk, standing as she was against Irene’s desk, she floated high above Irene and Rose.
    â€œHow are you, Adrianne?”
    â€œOkay, Alfredo. Just a bit tired.” She wobbled on her high heels.
    â€œLast night was special.”
    â€œMmmm,” she murmured.
    â€œLet’s get together tomorrow night?”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œWhy don’t you stop off at the bar around midnight. That’s when I get off.”
    â€œOkay. I’ll do that.”
    â€œI know you’re working, so I won’t keep you.”
    â€œThat’s okay.”
    â€œLove you, baby,” he murmured, just before he hung up.
    She replaced the heavy black receiver on its cradle. Did he mean it?
Love you, baby
.
    Trembling, she began to type up orders that sales reps had written out in barely legible script. As she worked, she munched on her doughnut.
    Again the phone rang.
    â€œBet it’s another one of her boyfriends.”
    â€œNaww, it’s my husband. Wants to check up on me and the baby,” said Rose, smoothing the cotton of her maternity smock over her swollen belly. “He’s kicking,” she murmured.
    â€œFor you again, Adrianne.”
    Adrianne did not recognize the voice on the other end.
    â€œSure you remember me,” the voice said slyly. “This is Don.”
    â€œDon … Don? … “
    â€œNedick’s … a month ago on 37th Street.”
    In a flash she remembered an episode in the cellar of a delicatessen. He was a young man with dark hair, a punk’s face, and a cynical grin. It had happened during her lunch hour. She recalled the fast rubbing of his groin against hers as he spilled semen inside her. They had stood against the cement wall, which smelled cool and fresh in spite of the heat. What had come over her? Why had she told him where she worked, let alone her true name?
    â€œI would have called you sooner,” the voice said. “I’ve been away.”
    â€œI’m busy, Don. I can’t talk now.”
    â€œWhen can I see you?”
    â€œI … I have a boyfriend.”
    â€œThat doesn’t change anything.”
    She hung up. Hoped she wouldn’t run into him again. Why was she involved in these encounters? At the time they seemed no more real than a lurid nightmare or an erotic fantasy. The stranger’s bodies gave her a moment’s comfort. But then all this was smashed by the reality of semen injected inside her, the odor of semen, the clammy feel of fluid, a collapsed penis, and afterwards, a harsh voice.
    â€œSuch a busy girl,” said Irene. “So you have a new boyfriend?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTell us about him.”
    Their eyes gleamed.
    â€œOh … just a man.”
    â€œJust a man. Just a man,” mimicked Rose and Irene.
    â€œShe uses us as personal secretaries,” said Rose.
    â€œYeah. Saves on her phone bill. We oughta charge her.”
    Once more the phone rang. Apprehensively, Adrianne ran over to Irene’s desk and picked it up. It was the same male voice. “Why can’t you see me tonight, Adrianne?” he wheedled. “I’ll show you a good time. Got a friend who wants to meet you. I want to see you so bad. I just
gotta
see you.”
    Conscious of the two other women, furious with them, embarrassed, she wanted to hang up, but she felt sorry for Don. Lonely aching punk. She was frightened, too, at the insistence in his voice.
    â€œWell, maybe. Say, Don, maybe I can meet you at the same Nedick’s stand,” she said with cunning, aware that Irene and Rose were listening and wondering whom she met at Nedick’s