The Not So Invisible Woman by Suzanne Portnoy Read Free Book Online

people who think my word is the gospel. They call it Scott's World.' He laughed. I wasn't sure if I should. 'In India, where I do a lot of business,' he continued, 'people say that you're all right if you're in Scott's World.'
    I understood being a boss with her own desk, her own office. I'd never met a person who thought he ruled the world and then named it after himself.
    'How much money do you make?' he asked, somewhat to my surprise even though the question seemed true to his brash character.
    I told him.
    'Is that all?'
    'Yes, that's all,' I said, surprised again, given that it was many times the average UK salary.
    'I make a lot more than that,' he said.
    'But does it make you happy?'
    'It's who I am.'
    'That wasn't what I asked.'
    He looked at me, confused. 'It's who I am.'
    Then he took out his wallet and showed me a picture of his daughter. Although just seven, she looked like him, with sandy-blonde hair, high cheekbones and a wide smile.
    'She's gorgeous,' I said.
    'She's more important to me than anyone else in the world,' Scott said. Unfortunately, he only got to see her every couple of weeks and then only for a day or two, until he was back on a jet. I tried to fit together what he had told me over our dinner date: that money drove him, that he was the master of his domain, that he adored his little girl but rarely found the time to see her. It seemed kind of sad.
    I looked across the table at him. I noticed the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, the dark circles underneath, the tight dry skin that seemed starved of moisture and oxygen. He looked exhausted. The message on his face said, 'I need to sleep for a week.'
    Scott chain-smoked through dinner, taking three or four puffs on a cigarette, then putting it out and lighting another. He was kind of a mess. Yet, I kept thinking there was something attractive about him that I couldn't put my finger on.
    I don't like smokers, won't even date one after having lived with one for two years and almost gone mad. But then, I rationalised, I wasn't looking for a live-in. I could put up with the cigarettes for the occasional overnight.
    Despite all his bravado, I got the sense Scott needed someone. I saw myself becoming his confidante, maybe even his friend. It was so rare that I met an American in London, and I liked the idea of having a fellow ex-pat buddy. Especially since his irreverent monologues made me laugh.
    'The other day,' he told me, 'I was giving a lecture to three hundred people in New Delhi. The Indians wouldn't stop bobbing their heads. So, I told them, "If you don't mind, can you stop bobbing your heads up and down, because I'm finding it very distracting." '
    I'd been to India a couple of times myself and could picture the head-bobbing to which he referred. It was as much a part of being Indian as rubbing noses was for Eskimos. I tried to imagine Scott telling people to stop a habit that was so culturally ingrained.
    'But that's the way Indians are,' I said.
    'Yes, I know. But it was really putting me off my speech.'
    Arrogant and self-centred and culturally insensitive he was indeed, but I wanted to take him home anyway. I wanted to sit this manic man in my hot tub and help him relax. I wanted him to escape from Scott's world and take a break in my world.
    After Mark and the one-sided oral, the other thing I wanted was some action of my own.
    We jumped in a cab and were back at my house within the hour. We immediately undressed and got in the hot tub. Straight away, Scott's lips found mine. I moved closer and straddled him. I felt his hard-on pressing against my pussy. I kissed him again, rubbing my pussy against him, teasing his shaft with my labia, sliding myself up and down it.
    'You know, I'm pretty toasted,' Scott said as he reached for the bottle of wine he'd insisted on buying and which I'd put on a shelf by the tub. 'And I have to be up early. I should go.'
    'Why don't you stay,' I said. 'It's silly to get a cab back now. I promise I'll wake you