Interview with a Master by Jason Luke Read Free Book Online Page B

bathroom and a kitchen. Eventually, I found what I was looking for in the kitchen.”
    “What was it?” Leticia whispered.
    “It was a diary,” I said. “She had hidden it in the air exhaust vent of the range hood that hung above the cooking hotplates.”
    “God! She had a diary? She kept a record of everything you did together?”
    “No. It wasn’t that kind of diary. It was a small, personal one – the kind of thing women keep in their handbags.”
    Leticia sat back, and her shoulders seemed to slump as though she were disappointed.
    “So there were no descriptions – no incriminating confessions like in the movies?”
    I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said, and then started to smile. “But there was a notation in the diary for that weekend. Just a brief little reminder….”
    “Yes…? What did it say?”
    I drew out the moment. Leticia was on the edge of the sofa. Somehow, during the course of our conversation she had become invested in the story, following its twists and turns.
    “It was brief. Just a couple of scribbled lines. ‘Meeting David. Excelsior Hotel. 3:00 pm.’”
    “That was all?”
    I nodded. “But that was enough.”
    “Who was David?”
    “He was her husband.”
    “No!”
    I nodded. “Yes,” I said. “She had a husband. He was some kind of an engineer who worked away in the middle-east; a fifty year old guy with loads of money who worked overseas for three months at a time.”
    “My god!” Leticia breathed. There was genuine shock and incredulity in her voice. “But you told me she was divorced,” she protested.
    “She told my father she was divorced,” I explained. “She lied.”
    “How did you find out this David guy was her husband? He could have been a friend.”
    “I phoned the Excelsior Hotel. I asked to be put through to the front desk, and then I asked if Mrs. Claire Moreland had arrived yet. The receptionist said she wasn’t expected for a couple of hours, but her husband had arrived early. Would I like to be transferred to their room?”
    Leticia gasped. She lifted her hand and pressed it to her mouth. “Oh, Jonah. Tell me you didn’t…”
    “I didn’t,” I said. “I hung up, and spent the rest of the weekend making plans. When Claire flew back in on Sunday evening, I was ready for her.”
    Leticia squirmed on the sofa. Her eyes were bright and shiny. She was looking up at me in anticipation.
    “ Do ut des, ” I said softly.
    “What?”
    “It’s your turn to answer a question.”
    “No. Jonah! Not now!” Leticia protested. “I want to hear what happened between you and Claire. I want to know how this affected you and changed your life.”
    “And I want to know about the most erotic sexual experience you have ever had.”
    Leticia sat back in the sofa with her face suddenly in shadow so I sensed her mood, without seeing it written across her face. I stood my ground and after a long moment she realized sulking in the dark wasn’t going to change matters. She let out a long sigh and finally leaned forward, back into the lamplight.
    She was suddenly embarrassed. “The only erotic experience I ever had was actually someone else’s,” she said softly.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean it never happened to me,” she said. She made a little pleading gesture of frustration and then sighed again. “It happened to my girlfriend. I spent a Friday night staying at her home. Her parents were away for the weekend. We got high…”
    “How old were you?”
    “Eighteen,” Leticia said. “Dwayne was working a double shift at the processing plant. My girlfriend and I got drunk on cheap wine and I fell asleep. When I woke up I was in the living room. It was late. I went upstairs towards her bedroom, but as I passed her parent’s room, I noticed the door was slightly open. I paused, and heard my girlfriend’s voice coming from beyond the door. She was panting. She was moaning and whimpering, and her voice was husky.”
    “ So, what did you do?”
    “I