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Dan suddenly said, “Model those high heels and wig for me.” I blurted out unconvincingly, “Those aren't mine. My sister left them here.” “We both know that isn't true, they are way bigger than what your sister would wear. Don’t you remember? I met her? There is no way those are hers. Now put them on!” I reluctantly put them on. As I bent over to strap my heels up, my robe separated and gave away another secret. “Wow Jesse! What have we here? You’re wearing a pretty hot looking outfit.” I started turning red with embarrassment. “What else is going on?” as Dan removed my robe and started pulling down my sweat pants. “Well, well. Looks like Jesse, or should I say Jessie, likes woman’s clothes. I wonder what else Jessie likes?” “I don’t know what you are talking about Dan.” “I think you look really hot all dressed up like that. It would be a shame for that to go to waste. Remember, you owe me.” He leaned forward and softly caressed my left cheek just before our lips made contact. It was. Couldn’t let myself see what was really happening. I sat down in the booth Dave had vacated and tried to capture John’s face in my mind. Tried to see him as he’d been the first time we’d spoken. The first time he’d said my name. The first time we’d kissed. But his face eluded me. Bits of him surged into my memory, the baseball caps he always wore, his hands—the lovely long fingers and rounded fingertips, the short salt and pepper hair, the way his earlobes weren’t attached like mine were, the carpet of coarse hairs on his chest, where I’d so loved to lay my head. His face, though. I couldn’t picture his face. My last words to him had been angry ones. Remembering them, replaying them in my mind, my fingers clenched, nails biting into my palms. I hadn’t given him a chance to explain, knowing no explanation could ever make things right between us again. He’d lied, and that’s all there was to it. Liars were anathema to me. There’d been too many lies and too much deceit in my life.
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