IV

Kids these days … Jesslyn shakes her head and notices that her fingers still tremble when she rests her cigarette on an ashtray and picks up her cup of coffee. That stupid kid who dashed across the road without giving a single thought for his safety – or hers, for that matter! He was bloody lucky that the cab driver had braked in time; who knows what might have happened otherwise …

Jesslyn fumes silently for a couple more moments as she finishes her third cup of coffee that morning. She glances at her reflection in the café’s mirrored walls. God, what a mess, she mentally berates herself. This is the last time I’ll ever spend the night at Kenneth’s … isn’t that exactly what I’d sworn not two mornings ago …? Jesslyn scowls at her reflection and crushes the paper cup and tosses it into a trash bin; she has never been a morning person.

“Morning, Jess.” Ros smiles sweetly as Jesslyn passes by her table. Jesslyn feels herself responding with a genuine smile.

“Lousy weather, huh,” Ros continues, sorting out various documents and nodding towards a window which frames gloomy clouds and lightning flashes.

“Good bed weather though,” sighs Jesslyn, resting her hips against Ros’ table. Ros rolls her eyes in agreement, taking a sip of the coffee Jesslyn is proffering her. “Hm … I needed that. I haven’t had a chance to visit the pantry for coffee yet.”

“Take this then, I’ve already had some cappuccino from Starbucks,” Jesslyn tells her. “Triple shots, every one of them. I think I’ve enough caffeine in veins to revive the very dead.”

Ros smiles gratefully, “You’re a god-send, Jess. Oh, by the way, Joseph would like to see you in his office.”

“Great, what a way to start a morning like this,” Jesslyn mutters as Ros’ smile turns sympathetic.

The meeting with Joseph went pretty well; apparently, despite the dreary weather, he is in good humors – a much-welcomed Dr. Jekyll to the Mr. Hyde he had been in the past month or so. Even his sweet-tempered secretary Jodie (whom everybody knows is hopelessly enamored with him) had quit in tears.

Jesslyn hurries back to her desk. Mondays have always been highly stressful days and her in-box contents always manage to miraculously quadruple over the weekends. She sighs resignedly. Just another manic Monday.

She almost misses the slip of paper. Fortuitously it drifts onto her lap as she mechanically shifts through the contents of her inbox. At first she assumes it is just an errant fax or lab-dip result and slaps it on the top of the pile, but somehow, is coaxed by the familiar scrawl to take a second look.

    in.fatuation
how did it happen was it
in.tentional

    in.evitable
when had it started why was i not
in.formed

i'll tell you what happened
every morning your beautiful smile
every night your loving touch

day-by-day week after week

i fell
    in.fatuated
with you


that
    in.itial smile
        in.finite grace
that
        in.toxicating
            in.tensity

i think i am
    in.love

K.

Jesslyn draws a sharp breath – almost a hiss … Kenneth. She releases her breath and takes a deeper and longer one to keep her emotions in check. Oh be still, you foolish heart.

Kenneth just does not give up; he loves the thrill of the chase, and most of all, the fleeting exhilaration and self-satisfaction of conquest – one of the rare things even his devastating combination of beauty, brains and wealth cannot buy.

“You’ll want me,” he had promised her with a charmingly candid smile after she’d emptied her Black Russian onto his lap.

“You’ll never have me,” she assured him in turn, returning his smile with one of her own, half sardonically, half in challenge.

“Well I guess we’ll both have to wait and see now, won’t we?” Kenneth winked. They both knew how irresistible he was but Jesslyn figured she had a heart of stone, one that had been broken, crushed and had eventually not so much healed as hardened.

“You can always wait.” she had shrugged and turned her back on him.

Still, Jesslyn carefully folds the piece of paper up and tucks it in her organizer. Many times bitten forever shy, she reminds herself half-heartedly then gives up all pretense of nonchalance and sighs. That’s … that is romantic … - Jess, snap out of it already! He’s a jerk and you know it – yes, but he’s a jerk who can act the part of a devoted lover perfectly …

The shrill jangle of the telephone interrupts Jesslyn’s internal strife. She lets it ring for a minute more to compose herself: Jesslyn Yew – the industry’s alpha-bitch who plays the toughest game of hardball.

“Yeah?” she barks into the speakerphone.

“Like it?” She can hear Kenneth’s smile in his voice and immediately pictures his lopsided boyish grin. “I would’ve read it to you this morning, but you always leave before I wake.”

Jesslyn immediately picks up the receiver and turns off the speaker-phone. “Save it, Kenneth, I’ve got a shitload of work to do. And stop sending junk to my office. Not balloons, not roses, not cookies, not chocolates, not poems – not anything.” Jesslyn hardens her tone.

“Mondays are always a bitch, aren’t they, Jessie?” Kenneth murmurs sympathetically.

Jesslyn snorts, “Yeah well, so am I, so we get along just fine.”

Kenneth chuckles. “I love witty women. Dinner tonight, Jessie? To take the edge off the Monday blues? My place, as usual.”

“Look, Kenny boy, I don’t have time to come out and play today, ok?” Jesslyn tells him in annoyance then mutters darkly, “God, one daft male after another, wrecking havoc on women’s lives. The cab driver should’ve run him over, one less idiot in the gene pool.”

“Were you in an accident, Jesslyn?” Concern – worry, even? “Are you okay? You should never have left my place so early – not in this weather – I’d have driven you to work. You weren’t hurt, were you?” He does sound seriously concerned …

“I’m still wasting my breath and time on the phone with you, aren’t I, Kenny boy?” Jesslyn affects an exasperated and impatient tone.

There is long pause from Kenneth and she wonders if she has finally pushed him to the outer limits of his patience and endurance; after all, there are only so many rebuffs a person can stomach, even for the sake of quick thrills. She hears the faint sound of him drawing a breath, maybe even grinding his teeth.

“Why do you always keep me at an arm’s length even after – especially after … I really care about you, Jessie.”

“So you say.” Jesslyn fends off his alleged concern sardonically but can’t help second-guessing herself. He does sound like he is serious now, but … “If there’s nothing else –”

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Kenneth asks quietly, and Jesslyn laughs derisively.

“Believe you or your obviously superior thespian skills? Kenny boy, you don’t seriously believe my IQ is slighter than my bra size, do you?”

A long pause; then: “I’m glad you weren’t hurt, Jesslyn.”

“Whatever.” Jesslyn starts to work on the massive pile in her inbox.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Jesslyn pauses, unsure. “Bye,” she tells Kenneth, brusquely ending the call, and resolutely turns back to her inbox.

:::

“More wine?” Kenneth offers solicitously, reaching for the bottle of red.

Jesslyn shakes her head wearily. It has been a long Monday (aren’t they all?) and sated with food and wine, she feels herself getting drowsy on the couch in Kenneth’s living room. Kenneth smiles sympathetically, pats her leg affectionately and goes into the kitchen to make her coffee.

“I like it when you’re so mellow,” Kenneth calls from the kitchen. “We get along so well when you’re not preoccupied with chewing my head off.”

Jesslyn settles herself more deeply into the couch and closes her eyes. The CD Kenneth has put on is one of her favorite pieces of nighttime music. She swings her legs onto the couch and hugs a cushion to her middle. Then she feels the couch move as Kenneth sits himself down, setting a hot mug of fragrant coffee in front of her. He gently shakes her shoulder.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he whispers. “Have some coffee.”

“I’m tired …” Jesslyn mumbles sleepily, turning away from him.

Kenneth runs a finger down her cheek. “This is probably the best time to ask, if I told you I really like you, would you believe me? Jesslyn?”

There is a long pause. So long that Kenneth assumes Jesslyn has fallen asleep.

“You’re just out for the thrill of the hunt, Kenneth, you’ll never want you can have. I’m just something you don’t and can’t have: you don’t really like me – you just want me because you can’t have me … And don’t mistake sex for love,” Jesslyn finally mutters, half-asleep.

Kenneth cups her face and turns it towards him. “I don’t - I never have. Jesslyn, I really do like you - I may even …” he hesitates for a long moment then forges on. “I may even love you.”

Jesslyn gazes for a moment at him with heavy-lidded eyes then leans up and kisses him.

:::

She wakes up to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

“Hey sleepyhead.”

Jesslyn opens her eyes blearily and sees Kenneth hovering over her with a mug of coffee.

“Damn,” she curses and closes her eyes. Oh for god’s sakes, Jess, won’t you ever learn?

Kenneth sets the mug on the bedside table and leans down and kisses her brow. “Good morning, darling.”

Jesslyn turns away and tugs the quilt up to her chin. “I’ve to get to work.”

“Don’t go yet,” Kenneth settles down next to her in bed. “I finally manage to have you next to me when I wake; stay a little longer, Jessie.”

Jesslyn sits up stiffly and turns irritably to Kenneth. “Some of us have to go to work, Kenny boy, or don’t you know that?” She starts to get out of the bed then pauses and contemptuously asks, “Or was last night already a vague memory?”

“Jesslyn,” Kenneth catches hold of her arm before she can move away. “What’s the problem? What’s the matter with you? You always -”

Jesslyn stares at him as hard and cold as her business persona knows how. “What’s the problem? What’s your problem, Kenneth? What else do you want from me? You know how this started. I was your little challenge and, good for you Kenny boy; you conquered this challenge. What else do you want? Sex? We’ve had sex.”

Kenneth drops her hand and matches her stare for stare. “You initiated this, Jesslyn,” he says flatly. “I didn’t touch you until you let me.”

I told you, didn’t I? Jesslyn shakes her head and turns away from Kenneth. Love is but a game, babe; don’t play it if you can’t afford the stakes. How ironic though - the industry’s top hardnosed negotiator not able to negotiate for a better deal in her love life.

Jesslyn turns away shaking her head, calming herself even as she berates herself for what she feels is a humiliating outburst of emotion. “You know what?” she says finally, “let’s just go back to our respective lives, okay?” She gets out of bed and begins to dress.

:::

Jesslyn settles into her office and begins to plow single-mindedly through her inbox. Don’t think about it; just don’t think about it, she chants to herself, almost mantra-like. Perhaps if she can make herself believe that, then everything will be all right …

“Hey Jess?”

Jesslyn looks up from her lab reports, a little bemused. Ros hesitates at her office door holding a spray of irises.

“These just came for you.” Ros gently lays the flowers in Jesslyn’s inbox. “Secret admirer?”

Jesslyn reaches for the small card attached to the flowers. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. She tosses the card into the paper bin. “No.”

Ros walks over to Jesslyn and tentatively sits herself on edge of the messy desk. “Boyfriend?”

Jesslyn leans back into her chair and gazes into Ros’s compassionate countenance and smiles, a little forlornly. “No … a mistake.”

Ros pats Jesslyn’s shoulder gently. “You love, you learn, you live.”

Jesslyn chews broodingly on her low lip before speaking. “I never seem to learn,” she says softly, almost to herself. “It was a game for him, Ros, and I lost. He’s right, I started it all - I threw the challenge at him and I deliberately let him win.”

Ros considers what Jesslyn has said. “Jess, how have you lost? Love is not a game, there aren’t winners or losers.”

Jesslyn slowly shakes her head. “You don’t understand, Ros, you don’t understand this game or him. It’s a vicious cycle - he’ll always covet what he can’t have; the harder I am to get, the sweeter and more tender he will be with me, just to get me to capitulate. But the more affectionate he is with me, the more I’ll feel like I’m falling in love with him; and the deeper I feel for him, the more I will resist his affections because I won’t allow myself to be a fool who’ll stupidly let herself be led on by a Casanova who thrives on the thrill of the chase and gets high on his conquests.”

“You can’t always assume the worst of people, Jess,” Ros tells her, patting her arm. “Sometimes they’ll surprise you.”

Jess shakes her head at Ros again, her lips curling into a cynical half-smile. “You know, Ros … I make it a point that they won’t.”

:::

“Jessie,” Kenneth whispers in her ear, wrapping his arm around her. Jesslyn stirs but doesn’t open her eyes and turns away from him. “I have you, Jesslyn Yew,” Kenneth murmurs, nuzzling her neck. “You’re mine.”

Gradually, Kenneth falls back into slumber, his arm still wrapped firmly – almost possessively – around her; Jesslyn opens her eyes and try as she might, she cannot seem to fall back asleep for the rest of the night.

:::

“Wah, isn’t that the girl in the newspapers? The police say it was an accident,” the cab driver remarks conversationally, looking at the picture at the head of a casket in the vehicle in front of him, then he turns around and tells Jesslyn confidentially, “But my neighbor’s son’s girlfriend’s brother was there when it happened. He said it definitely looked like a suicide.”

Jesslyn smiles politely at the cab driver then turns away. She finally gets a break from his nonstop banter when her cell phone rings.

“Jessie,” Kenneth says intimately when she connects the call. “I always miss you when I wake.”

Jesslyn remains silent.

“I got us tickets to 'Tristan und Isolde' tonight - your favorite opera; you’re going to love it. I’ll pick you up at seven, ok?” Enthusiasm warms Kenneth’s tone.

It takes two to play the game …

“Why not,” Jesslyn tells Kenneth.