Candy came home late in the afternoon and called up the stairs to Andy.

“I’m making supper. Can you be ready in half an hour?”

Andy opened the door, yelled “yes,” down the stairs, and carried on working. On his desk, his phone remained defiantly silent. Twice, he had checked to make sure he had messages set to ping when they arrived, but the phone never made a sound.

When the half-hour was up, he picked up the phone, saved his work and shut down the computer. In the doorway, a thought crossed his mind. He adjusted the phone to vibrate instead of ping — she must be playing games he thought, and he needed to be ready. He stuck the phone in his back pocket and set off down the stairs.

The table was already set, with a bottle of Italian red uncorked, and no doubt breathing, or whatever wine does, sitting in the centre of the table. Alongside that was a bowl of rocket salad, and a dish of tomatoes, roasted with garlic and Italian spices if his nose was any judge.

Almost as soon as he had seated himself and poured two glasses of wine, Candy appeared in a figure-hugging jumpsuit covered in front with a short apron. She was carrying a tray on which a large dish of lasagna was the centrepiece, alongside serving spoons and forks.

Candy discarded her apron, folding it over the back of a spare chair, sat at the table and handed Andy a serving spoon.

“Am I being mother?”

“Tonight yes,” she giggled, “I haven’t been trained yet.”

“Did you have a good shopping trip?” he said as he served the Lasagna

“Yes. It’s amazing to be mobile again. I don’t think I’ll risk driving for a while, I wouldn’t trust my foot on the brake, but around town, and taking a rest now and then, I had a lovely time.”

“You were out for a while.”

“Like I said, I took a rest now and then.”

“Did you buy anything interesting?”

“What do you think you’re looking at?”

Andy smiled, “and that took you all afternoon?”

“Well, no. I had to do a lot of window shopping. I have over a month of catching up to do, and I had to try on lots of things. What do you think was my biggest discovery?”

“You’ve gone down a dress size, and it makes you look even sexier?”

“You knew?”

“A decent guess, plus I cheated a little.”

“How?”

“I thought you looked thinner when you were in the hospital, so I asked Marsha if they weighed you.”

“Is that allowed? I mean aren’t medical records confidential?”

“Yes, of course, but next of kin can ask what’s going on when they see their loved ones wasting away.”

The banter continued as they ate. Andy noticed that Candy looked at the wall clock several times, doing it when he appeared to be concentrating on his food. There had to be a reason, after all this was a woman who enjoyed being late, had made a fetish of ignoring time and getting home after midnight when she knew it would cost her a few extra spanks.

Candy got up to clear the plates and headed for the kitchen.

“It’s only ice cream for dessert,” she said.
 
As she turned away, Andy felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Did he dare look at it? Candy stayed in the kitchen, noisily stacking dishes and cooking pots into the dishwasher. Was that deliberate? Andy pulled the phone out of his pocket, to see a message from an unknown number. He didn’t read it. The phone was back in his pocket before Candy reappeared with the ice-cream.

“Was that your phone?”

He knew it hadn’t made a sound and she couldn’t have seen. He kept a straight face and played along.

“Unknown number.”

“A call or a text?”

“Text.”

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“It’s junk mail I expect. I should delete it.”

He saw the quick intake of breath. Yep, caught you, he thought.

“Is that what you usually do?”

“Mostly yes, I have a quick glance but you have to take care, some of these messages have a virus in them. It pays to be cautious.”

Trying to keep a straight face Andy filled his mouth with ice cream. Maybe it wasn’t Candice sending a timed message from a new phone, but he was almost certain. Watching her face he knew this would be fun. When they got around to the coffee, he’d need to pee — he’d read the message in the bathroom. Did she have her new phone with her? Doubtful, that jumpsuit didn’t leave much room for gadgets.

Andy finished his second glass of wine, filled Candy’s glass and relaxed. What’s the betting that when I go to pee she’ll dash upstairs? He ate his ice-cream slowly, savouring each mouthful.

“This is great ice-cream.”

“I saw a new shop in town, so I went there last, and got a taxi from there.”

“Lucky the taxi came before it thawed out.”

Candy laughed. “I called the taxi and when it arrived, I made him wait and dashed into the shop to buy everything, and I bought a cooler bag.”

“Smart.”

“I may be a needy slut at times, but I’m not stupid.”

Andy got up to make coffee.

“Espresso or latte?”

“Make me an Affogato please mister barista.”

Andy returned with a dish of ice-cream and two espressos, serving the ice-cream to Candy and carefully pouring the espresso over it. He sat watching Candy, sipping his coffee, and gazing at her.

“What are you looking at?”

“Barbells.”

She looked down in a panic.

“That jumpsuit is an excellent fit,” he said. “Too tight for a bra, or are you trying to excite me?”

“Oh, I didn’t think. Sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I know. I’ll tell you what, if I tell you a little secret, we’re even, would that work?”

“Like what?”

“I think the barbells are like keepers in earrings, not the real jewellery, so seeing them doesn’t really count. They are a turn on, but not because of the look.”

“Go on’” she said, a rising intonation indicating curiosity.

“I think,” he said, “though this is pure speculation, that when they were first done, you had some kind of dressing covering your nipples, so there was no chance of anyone seeing the outline of any metal, whatever the shape. Seeing the bars today gives me a clue that things are progressing well and there’s no need for dressings. Which means that we must be closer to the big day. That’s the turn-on. How am I doing? Don’t answer, eat the Affogato before it all melts.”

Candy stopped, killing the words before they’d left her mouth and collapsing into a wide smile, shaking her head as he held her gaze. It took a few seconds before she looked down at the ice-cream and dug her spoon into it. Half a minute later she looked up.

“It’s just as well I never tried cheating on you, I think you’d have found me out in no time.”

“But you cheated with Marsha and I never suspected a thing.”

“Ah, well, that’s because it never crossed your mind that I might fancy a woman, so you didn’t know what to look for.”

“I still don’t,” he said, “but I guess Marsha does.”

“So is that why you seduced her?”

“For the record, she seduced me. I know you were unconscious, so you know nothing about how I was doing, but at the time I was a vulnerable husband, at home, worried sick, and locked in a cock cage. Before you went out that night you made sure I was no position to seduce anyone.”

“Aaah.” Her face fell a little. She looked up. “Is there some bitterness behind that?”

“No love. I try not to do bitter.”

“No,” she sighed, “you don’t. One of the many things I love about you. You had every right to be more than bitter.”

“Let’s not go back there. Right now I need to pee,” Andy said and headed for the bathroom in the downstairs bedroom. As soon as he was out of sight Candy ran upstairs. Andy stood by the bedroom door and saw her shadow move. He pulled his phone from his pocket and read the message.

‘My friend Marsha Williams keeps talking about you. I think I met you years ago, any chance we could renew the acquaintance? Candice Thomas.’

Clever, he thought, and using her maiden name, very symbolic. What should I reply?

He typed, ‘I think I remember you. A lot of water under the bridge since then. Catchup over lunch or dinner?’

Andy had no time to research how to send a delayed message, that trick would have to wait for another day. He flushed the toilet to establish a real excuse and ambled back to the dining room.

Candy appeared a few seconds later, now wearing a jacket.

“I felt a little chilly,” she said.

Good excuse, he thought.

“You should have said, I’d have got you a wrap.” Andy moved to her and took her in his arms, holding her for a second. Yes, there’s a phone in her pocket. He let go with one arm and felt her forehead. She pulled back a little to see his face.

“I thought you might be getting a chill,” he said. “With all you’ve been through, it wouldn’t do to catch some infection.”

He pulled the jacket around her and did up two buttons.

“Best to take my mind off those nipples.”

“Would you like to watch a movie together?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“We still haven’t watched my performance at Mistress’s place. What do you think?”

“With you in a jacket and jumpsuit and me in a cock cage. Are you serious?”

“I thought we could concentrate on the cinematography and critique Marsha’s shot selection.”

“Have you ever thought about a second career running a torture chamber.”

“You think it will be that bad?”

Andy shrugged his shoulders.

“You know what I’m going to say next,” she said.

“Something like ‘you never know until you try?’ Go on, as long as either of us can call a stop, right?”

“Deal.”

Neither of them said anything as the first few minutes unfolded and Candy was wheeled in and lifted onto the table.

“Look at that padding. I never knew that was there.”

“You were lucky; they didn’t do that for me.”

“Was it the same table?”

Andy ran the video back until there was a wide shot of the room. “I think so, it’s hard to be sure because Mistress is brilliant at creating illusions.”

“I bet it’s the same.”

“That’s what she’d want us to think. It is a nice touch, I’m sure she’d expect us to watch it together. I love the way they’re wrapping up your legs.”

“It was weird, so soft, I couldn’t feel a thing.”

“You should tell her.”

“Why?”

“Feedback. It shows appreciation, and it’s another trick she can pull. If she wrapped a whole body like that, she could make a person feel weightless, and with all the other stimulation and the virtual reality headset, it could feel like an out-of-body experience.”

“Like floating.”

Andy listened carefully as Mistress talked Candy into saying yes to everything and then stopped the video as the camera caught Candy’s sideways glance at the naked men coming into the room.

“Marsha was on the button catching that shot.”

Candy sighed. Andy wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“You don’t mind?” she said.

“Mind what?”

“The way I looked at those guys?”

Andy said nothing.

“I mean I don’t look at you like that,” she said.

“So am I supposed to feel jealous?”

“I don’t know. I never realised I did that.”

“I don’t think I was jealous. I’ve never felt jealous because you’ve always come home to me.”

“It bothers me,” she said. “It makes me feel guilty. I ought to lust after you, I wish I did.”

“How would you have felt if I was on that table?”

Candy gasped. “I have no idea. Wow, what a thought. Did she give you a film of that?”

“Oh sure, two films actually. One is what I saw in the VR headset, and the other is from the room cameras like we’re seeing you now. Do you want to watch that instead?”

“Yes, I do. Not right now. Oh God, it’s making me wet thinking about it... Oh fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?”

“I, um... I feel weird saying I’m turned on by the thought of you tied up and full of Viagra; especially when I won’t let you feel how wet I am.”

“But you are. Those studs you’re so turned on by, how much Viagra were they on do you suppose?”

Candy laughed. “Bucket loads I expect. Yeah, you’re right, it’s all a con.”

Andy set the video going again and settled back on the sofa. “How did it feel, tell me what you were thinking?”

“Don’t I have any secrets?”

“If I don’t know, then anything I do for you is guesswork. I don’t want an anatomy lesson or a blow by blow brain dump, just say what’s going on, what I can’t see.”

On the screen, Mistress was whispering into Candy’s ear.

“She was telling me I could say no, but by then I’d seen the cocks on those guys and the way she said it I knew I had to say yes. Everyone in the room was expecting to do something to me and I felt like it was an obligation, like I had no choice. I knew I ought to come home to you, but I couldn’t let Mistress down.”

Candy squeezed Andy’s hand. “Did she make you feel like that or am I a stupid slut?”

“I know what you felt,” he said. “For me, something different drove it. I wanted to find out what it was like to be used and I knew I had to go all the way, agree to everything, otherwise I’d always wonder if I missed something.”

“Yeah,” she said. “A lot like that for me too, in a way. I always thought on my dates I had to have everything that was going, or else it would seem pointless. There was you, at home — if I didn’t get everything on offer then what was the point... I felt like I was cheating you if I didn’t make it totally worth it; dumb really,” she sighed. “Your motives were much more noble.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “You always were my noble knight in shining armour, it’s why I always came back. I could admire you, I couldn’t admire them... or me.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

They watched the movie, stopping now and then to get drinks, each trying to find an opportunity to send a text message. The prize for the best surreptitious move almost went to Candy. During one section where her body on the screen had been taking cocks at both ends for several minutes, she got out her phone and followed the scene with the camera.

“It’s way better with the detail,” she said. “It’s starting to be boring seeing fuck, fuck, fuck, even when it’s me. What I don’t get is how anyone gets anything out of watching porn on a phone. Look at it.” She held the phone up to show Andy. “Look at it, I mean you can’t even tell how big the cocks are and this poor whore could be anyone.”

She carried on playing with the phone. “Maybe if I only look at a part of it...”

Andy’s gaze returned to the big screen until she put the phone down. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“I see you’ve got a new phone,” he said.

Candy shrieked with laughter and collapsed on the sofa. “Damn, and I thought I was so clever.”

“It was fun wasn’t it?”

“Totally.” She burst out laughing. “We are a ridiculous pair, aren’t we. I mean there must be people all over everywhere having affairs and being better at it than us... It was interesting,” she said, suddenly serious, “I mean because I’d never realised how tricky it must be, you know, carrying on behind someone’s back when they are there.” She laughed again. “Edgy too.”

“That’s what makes it so addictive.”

“Yeah, it’s so unfair too. Imagine if I did that for real, I’d be living on edge, and that’s a turn on as well as being a stress, and all that extra energy would be attached in my mind to Mr Whoever, and you’d seem boring by comparison. It must be really hard to give up.”

“Until reality catches up.”

“After she’s left, she discovers Mr Whoever was into the excitement of the chase and not really into what he was chasing. Then she finds he’s deadly boring and possessive when the adrenalin has gone. Another good reason for sticking with you.”

They watched to the end of Candy’s movie before Andy read her message.

‘Lunch can be so rushed, don’t you think... Dinner would be better.’  

Andy made them both a nightcap but couldn’t resist texting; ‘Dinner at The Grand. Tuesday. I’ll be there at about seven.’ Best to leave no choices, lay it on the line, no messing around.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

They slept in the new bed, wide enough for three Andy said, so plenty of room to avoid accidentally feeling her secrets.

Andy woke early and sneaked out of the bedroom to call text Marsha.

‘Is the nursing home still bound by old fashioned NO MEN rules?’

Two minutes later he had the reply.

‘Are you feeling wicked?’

‘Just say where.’

‘Fourth window along, ground floor, at the back, on the right, after 8 am.’

Andy dressed without waking Candy and sent a text to her new ‘Candice’ phone.

‘How well do you know Marsha Williams? Should I say hello for you?’

That ought to be enough to tell Candy where he was while playing along with the blind date game with her emerging Candice persona.

Andy parked where it was free and walked the last quarter mile, before picking a moment when no one appeared to be looking, to walk behind the nurses home. He was sure that he could have strolled up to the front entrance and called Marsha, but where would be the fun in that?

Assuming that she meant the right when you were at the back of the building and facing towards it then the window he was standing outside was the correct one. However if someone had walked in through the front door and turned right, then it would be the fourth window on the left from where he was standing.

He could call Marsha and suggest she should open the window, but that seemed like a cop-out. He settled on the right-hand end, as seen from the inside, knowing that he’d never live it down if Marsha had bent her mind to which right-hand end would work for a pedestrian on the outside.

Sneaking up to the window, he flattened himself against the wall in case there was an adverse reaction from whoever was in the room. There was no need. Once he could see through the window, he could see Marsha. She turned her back as soon as she caught sight of him, so he tapped the window and slid down below the sill. He was sitting on the ground beneath the window for half a minute before Marsha pulled up the bottom pane of the sash window and leaned out.

“Quick,” she whispered, “before anyone sees.”

Andy dived through the window, landing in a heap alongside the bed as Marsha slammed the pane down and closed the curtains. She spun around, took one look at him and collapsed laughing.

“I think we did that very well,” she said, “assuming we were making a movie about life in a nurses home twenty years ago.”

“You mean all that cloak and dagger was—”

“I’m the one with the cloak and I bet you don’t have a dagger.”

Andy shook with silent giggles. “Fun though, I imagine we have to make love in complete silence.”

“That part hasn’t changed,” she said as she dragged his clothes off and set about unlocking his cage. “What brought this on?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” he asked as he pulled his shirt off. Marsha laughed as she put the cage to one side and kissed his cock.

“Have you ever done spontaneous?”

“Only at 8.17 on selected Mondays,” he said, glancing at the clock.

“Isn’t strange how you can ask an intellectual an obvious question and you get a totally accurate but useless reply.”

“It’s a game Candy and I have been playing, imagining a blind date.”

“And I’m a clandestine affair in the nurses home?” She pulled him onto the bed.

“Be quick and keep quiet, you never know when Matron might come around.”

Marsha pulled Andy onto her, one hand behind his neck while the other never let go of his cock.”

“That text got me going,” she said, “I’ve been wet from the moment I read it. We should do this more often.”

“God, you’re right,” he said as he slid into her. “That feels so good.”

Marsha kissed him again. “So tell me,” she said, “in this affair, are we having are we having a long slow morning of romance and seduction, or is it a mad, passionate, fuck like rabbits, in the few precious minutes we can grab from our crazy lives.”

“I should ask which is the best way to make a baby, or, which way would be the most fun.”

“Why the hell did I fall for an intellectual?”

“So fuck like rabbits then?”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his body as close as she could and holding her legs wide and high. It didn’t take long, a few days in a cage will do that, and despite the energy involved, they managed it with no noise.

Andy found a rhythm in the silence, whereas Candy was often noisy, especially when nearing many of her many orgasms. With Marsha the experience was different. They had come together in a time of pain and found comfort in each other.

Playing in their contrived secret silence in Marsha’s spartan, impersonal room, their bodies provided every sensation that mattered. No music, no exotic perfumes, no fetish garment, two naked bodies finding ways to understand each other. No two bodies can ever become one, but it can feel that way when it works.

They lay together afterwards.

“Do I get to play in this game with Candy?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was having a clandestine affair with my wife’s alter ego?”

Andy paused, looked at Marsha for a moment, tried to keep a straight face, and couldn’t.

“Meanwhile you are trying to get your wife’s bisexual lover pregnant. Do you have any idea where your life is going?”

“I’d be a fool if I said yes.”

“And that’s OK? What happened to all that masterful stuff?”

“Oh that? I can do that any time. More to the point, I can do it when it’s needed.”

“Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah. I like being able to turn it on and off.”

“You do? You don’t think it’s a cop-out?”

“I’ve met dominating men who don’t know how to turn it down. They can be a turn on when you want it, but a total turn off when you don’t.”

“Go on.”

“When I lived with Mistress, some of the men she allowed into the place had big egos. I think Mistress turned them on but made them feel uncomfortable at the same time—”

“So they took it out on you?”

“Something like that. It was all theatre to Mistress. She enjoyed watching us slaves being fucked over and over by these guys who had to show us how great they were. Most of them were souped-up on Viagra, which is a kind cheating. It’s like athletes taking steroids, they win medals and break records, but they don’t count.”

“So you don’t approve of Viagra?”

“Oh I approve if someone takes it to give me a good time, but not if they want to brag about what a great stud they are. These guys had to keep jamming it down your throat, literally, sometimes, just to prove what a great master they were.”

“When all they’re doing is proving what a fraud they are?”

“Exactly. I don’t see you being like that.”

“Viagra worked wonders when I was with Mistress.”

“When you were on the table?”

“Yeah.”

Marsha laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“I asked Mistress about that, she played you. It was a test. She had someone tell you they’d fed you Viagra, but they hadn’t. Mistress wouldn’t feed anyone drugs without their permission. Mistress wanted to find out what you were capable of. Andy, you have it in you to be the genuine article. If someone needs dominating you can do it.”

“Why didn’t she say?”

“Think about it Andy.”

He lay looking at the ceiling for a while, a hundred thoughts whizzing around his head.

“I had to figure it out myself?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, I get it. Will you be kicked out of the slaves club for tipping me off?”

“I quit that already.”

“Really?”

“Oh come on Andy. I fell in love with two people and I’m trying to have their baby, and they didn’t even tell me to.”

He rolled over and kissed her. “But you could be a slave again if you felt like it?”

“You mean if I chose?”

“Choice not being a slave thing? So it would be acting.”

“Top quality method acting,” she said. “You know, bringing lived emotions into the part.”

Andy kissed her again. “Time I let you sleep. It felt good. As if I knew we were making a baby.”

“So you’re psychic as well?”

“I don’t know, it seemed like we had a connection.”

“Mmmm, we did. Take care. Mind how you go, this baby needs a dad.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

First stop after leaving Marsha was a hairdresser. Andy let them use their judgement to pick the cut that they thought would make him look younger Along with that he had his hair lightened a shade which took out the grey hairs. After that, he spent an hour visiting the biggest menswear outfit in town. Discussing his image he insisted that he must not look like a crook or a pop star.

“Could you make me look a little mysterious, like an Italian intellectual maybe.”

The important thing was to look different. His initial request totally stumped the sales assistants, but it brought out the manager.

An hour later he left armed with a fashionable ‘man-bag’ containing overnight toiletries and wearing a two-button suit with a polo-neck sweater and a scarf that the manager insisted suited him. He visited an optician and acquired some elegantly tinted glasses.

Next stop the shoe shop from which he emerged in the most comfortable shoes he’d worn in years. He bought new socks to match the suit and thought about new underwear. No point — if they got that far she wouldn’t be in any doubt about who she was undressing.

Andy left messages at the restaurant and with the doorman and waited in the bar. What he didn’t do was send a message to Candice’s phone. He’d told her a time and place and made a reservation, but he’d told the maitre-d to tell her he was running late and maybe she should wait in the bar.

Andy sat in the darkest corner with his back to the bar where he could see a glass partition reflecting an image of anyone who came in.

She arrived a fashionable five minutes late, though she might have been on time at the restaurant and taken her time getting his message and making her way to the bar. Andy waited to see how good his makeover had been, would she recognise him? Candice, now that he could see her, or at least her reflection in the dark glass ahead of him, was a revelation. There’s a scene in ‘Pretty Woman’ when she’s been shopping and suddenly this streetwise whore has become a fashion star, perfectly turned out and looking rich and sophisticated from her hair to her toes.

She strolled to the bar, looking self-assured but with five per cent irritation, as though she expected to be waited on, and wasn’t. She ordered what looked like a martini. The shelves behind the bar were mirrored, so apart from the occasional bottle of liqueur in the way, he could see her face whichever way she looked. Andy watched as she spoke to the barman and he slid the drink across with no sign of cash or a card being seen.

Good, he’d told the bar and the restaurant to charge everything to the room, they were instructed to tell her. They might have told a clutch of women by now, but that was a risk worth taking and he could cancel the deal in a few minutes.

It took five minutes for a man to saunter over to the bar and try his luck. Andy wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation, so had to rely on reading the signs. Candy’s ‘lust’ face had stuck in his mind after seeing the Mistress video. He had intended to put a captured shot on his phone, but for now, memory would have to do.

The first punter looked about twenty-five, he had a swagger and a tan but Candy’s reflection gave away nothing more than curiosity. There may have been a big cock over there but Andy’s viewpoint gave no clue. The guy disappeared after a few minutes.

In another minute Andy would have headed to the bar, enough experimentation for one night, not much of a test, but for an ad hoc job, perhaps all that could be expected... and then the other guy made his play.

This man was older, maybe ten years older than Candice, and he had a polished air. Dressed in what party invitations call smart casual. Relaxed, debonair and full of self-confidence in everything about him. He looked like Andy had hoped he might one day look.

This time he needed to be closer. There was one possibility, a table a few feet behind Candice at the bar that was empty. He could sit, half-turned away from the pair at the bar, see Candice’s face, okay, somewhat smaller, reflected in the screen, and he’d hear what they said. He made it to the table without being seen.

“So this date of yours, how long y’all gonna give him?”

It sounded like an educated Texan accent. The guy could be some oil-rich character, touring the world, seducing vulnerable women in the middle of an identity crisis. Not that Candice couldn’t look after herself, or could she? Candy could, but could Candice.

The reflection of her face was hard to read, at this distance in the typical bar lighting, there was some of that lustful look. Did he dare to interrupt?

“He’ll be here,” she said.

“Sure?” A questioning, doubting tone. That was a low blow, and maybe the wrong line, too domineering, too sure of himself, unless he’d sensed that she wanted him.

Andy couldn’t stop the doubts prickling in the back of his mind. All those stories about cuckold angst were impossible to banish no matter how sure he felt.

He saw Candice’s reflection smile, there may have been a hint of lust still there, but there was something else that he hadn’t seen in years, mischief. Was that a good sign?

“Oh he’s around,” she said. “I’m drinking on his tab. Can I get you something?”

“On his tab?”

“He won’t mind?”

That threw the guy a little. Andy could see his face change, a little dent in the confident facade.

“Does it matter? I mean is there an etiquette among Romeos? A line I’m asking you to cross?”

Andy couldn’t help smiling, he had to turn away to avoid the possibility of letting either of them see him.

“So what will it be?” she said.

With his gaze fixed on their reflections, visible in the glass across the room he saw her reach out and take the man’s hand while she summoned the bar tender with her other hand.

“If this gentleman was English, I’d offer him a good single malt, but with that accent, it has to be the best Bourbon you have.” She glanced at the man, head inclining sideways a little. “With ice I think.”

“Really ma’am I have to refuse.”

“No,” she said. “It’s the least I can do. I’ve been messing with you, and you’ve been good. Another day I’d have... well, you know.”

The barman slid the glass across the polished wood. The Texan picked up the glass, raised it in a toast to Candice.

“You are a piece of work ma’am. If this guy doesn’t show, I’m in 247.”

Andy sent a text, ‘do you think he asked for that room number?.’

Candice looked at her phone, sipped her martini, waited a whole minute, and then turned around. She slid off the stool, glanced at the Texan’s back, and pointed at the restaurant. Andy got up and strolled in that direction, turning when he crossed the threshold out of the bar, smiling, waiting.

Candice strolled across the room, slowly, milking the attention, and nodding briefly in the Texan’s direction when he couldn’t resist checking to see where everyone else was looking. She stopped when she got to Andy, standing a meter away and looking him up and down.

“Do I know you?” she said.

“I think you know me better than I know you. Did you know I was sitting behind you?”

“No. I knew you must be around somewhere. Did you enjoy what you heard?”

“I had no idea what to expect, bearing in mind that this is our first date.”

“So what did you think?”

“I think you shocked the hell out of that poor guy.”

“He was cute though wasn’t he? He gave me his room number. What do you think?”

“That’s a bit of a tough question on a first date.”

Candice linked arms with Andy. “Fair enough, I owe you the first crack don’t I. So does he, after all, you paid for the drinks.”

“You see,” he said as he guided her to their table, “that’s the man you’re eating with, warm-hearted, generous, that’s me.”

“So you’d be happy for a girl of yours to sneak into bed with the first handsome American she comes across.”

“Happy isn’t the exact right word. I knew a girl like that once.”

“And?”

“It’s exciting but it can be stressful...”

“I bet,” Candice said. “I knew a woman like that once. They need a good whipping, sluts like that. Actually I didn’t make a note of that guy’s number, and with his accent, I’d probably have got it wrong...

“Thank you for that.”

“For what?”

“For forgetting about the most memorable number in the sex trade.”

She squeezed his hand. “So, what are we eating?”

“That’s up to you, but I can say that these people do a very good Sea Bass, with a choice of different ways of doing potatoes, and I like the Samphire.”

“So you’d recommend that?”

“First, I need to know if you have any allergies, wheat, nuts, dairy, things like that?’’

“It’s very good of you to ask,” she said, “but fortunately I don’t.” She looked up, grinning, enjoying the game. “I think I should eat what you suggest,” she said.

Andy looked across the table, his gaze meeting hers, and raised his eyebrows a few millimetres. She smiled and for a second looked demurely at the table.

“Oh all right,” she said, “You’re treating me, I’m your blind date, I thought I’d have a better chance of a second date if I wasn’t too pushy.”

“Is that what you would have done with our Texan friend?”

“Absolutely, except he would have ordered steak.”

Andy smiled and signalled to the waiter. “The fish it is,” he said. “Unless you are desperate for a starter, we’ve reached that awkward point where one of us says something like — tell me about yourself.”

Candice picked up the wine bottle. “Puligny Montrachet? Expensive. So you knew I’d go for the fish?”

“I see you know your wines.”

“I used to know this guy who went to the alps skiing every year, and he’d buy a few bottles of this on the way back.”

“Wise man,” he said, thinking of the bottle in the cellar at home. “Cheaper than buying it here.”

She reached out and took his hand.

“So, about me...”