Obscure Corners and Crevices

By Linda Leven

What in the World!
In this, her first book of short stories or fragments of life inspired by true events, Leven successfully applies her unique ability to turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. Customary events of life mutate into those that are bewildering, stupefying, erotic, and yet profoundevents that diverge off the beaten path and baffle all ordinary description. A lovers pact, a job interview, a student-teacher relationship, an audition, a visit to a new art gallery, a relationship between old high school chums, a neighbors disputeall mushroom into the farcical, the grim, and the inconceivable.

In Obscure Corners and Crevices, Leven offers her readers nine portraits of normal, intelligent, introspective individuals who end up enmeshed in usual life situations that unexpectedly warp into the incredible, into events that most of her readers will never have experienced . . . guaranteed! Her characters, along with her readers, are enveloped in a detailed anatomy of the human heart and mind through meticulously painted events, dialogue, and a unique philosophy that permeates all of Levens writings.

The tales, whether dramatic, extravagant, or droll, all maintain a lofty profundity and soaring level of suspense until the unforeseen final denouement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493189212

Linda Leven

Linda received her B.A. and M.A. in mathematics from New York University and worked over 20 years for IBM as a software developer. Currently Linda lives in New York and is working on a book of short stories. Visit WWW.LINDALEVEN.COM for details.

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Copyright © 2014 by Linda Leven.

Library of Congress Control Number:      2014905745

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4931-8922-9

                 Softcover       978-1-4931-8923-6

                eBook              978-1-4931-8921-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 03/21/2014

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STORIES

Of Love And Money

How You See It

Dabblers Beware

For Old Time’s Sake

Making A Difference

Just The Way It Is

The Sound Wars

Supreme Arrogance

Just The Way It Is… Really?

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

These stories—fragments of life, all but one—are inspired by true events.

I have often received the advice from friends and relatives that I should travel, see the world, get out of my New York City environs. There, in faraway lands, will I surely find the material to write fantastic novels and stories. However, I have found that my everyday life has always provided me with more than enough material with which to create and write, hopefully, interesting stories about the life that most of us live and know.

I have always looked introspectively and reflectively at my life and the lives of those around me, and here it is that I have always found the subjects that I believe will most provoke and interest my readers.

One must look closely… ever so closely… scrutinize and analyze. And here one finds the tale!

Linda Leven, March 2014

OF LOVE AND MONEY

Boredom. Tedium. Ennui. There were so many words to describe Jim’s usual state of mind, that is, unless he were picking up a new woman somewhere, anywhere, and with his movie-star good looks, charm, and breeziness, laying the groundwork for a quick seduction and a few nights of passionate but casual sex. With his business mail in hand, he sauntered through the now deserted bullpen that housed all the computer consultants at the Information Age Corporation, known on Wall Street as IAC. He had just recently completed his six-month assignment of a telecommunications installation for Union Bank and was now waiting patiently for management to reassign him. It had not been a good year for the computer consulting industry… or for IAC, and downtime between assignments could be weeks, if not months. But because IAC was a Fortune 500 company, it could well afford to have its consultants wait months between assignments. Often they were given menial tasks to help out management, or they were sent to school for education in the latest systems or software packages that the company was announcing. And sometimes, they were just left on their own to find some constructive, educational activities to occupy their downtime. Management preferred that they simply disappear off the premises until an appropriate assignment was found.

Jim had recently joined the company, was young and brilliant—things came easy to him—and was already one of the company’s star performers, always doing excellent, error-free work and completing his assignments well ahead of schedule. As he looked about the brightly lit, expansive room of locked metal cabinets and long bullpen-style tables littered with computer manuals, papers, old project specifications, textbooks, and all the accoutrements of the computer consultant, he saw no one but his colleague Cybil sitting alone at a back table, diligently poring over some computer manual. Most of the unassigned consultants were nowhere to be found; they found it depressing sitting alone in the deserted bullpen. Cybil was an exception. Strangely, between assignments, she enjoyed being there, reading and researching topics in a course of independent study that she charted for herself.

Hi there, Cybil, Jim cheerily called out as he pulled over a chair and settled in next to her. It was his first day off assignment, and he was glad to find someone in the back room with whom he could strike up a conversation. He was especially happy to see a female.

Jim! Finished at the bank already? You’re really impressive, you know, Cybil nervously joked with feigned casualness. You’ll probably win an award this year… management loves you! How come you’re so darn smart?

Cybil was an old-timer with the company and had already worked several assignments with Jim. It was only over the last year that they had become acquainted. That was how it was when you were a consultant with IAC. They were a large group in the company’s Computer Services Division, over a hundred strong, mostly men, and they usually got to see and know one another only when assigned to the same project. While working together as a team at the customer site, projects lasting months to several years, your coworkers became your best buddies and allies—that is, until the project ended. Then, everyone was again diverted in some other direction, and perhaps members of a team never met again for years. It had not been that way with Cybil and Jim; they had fallen into the unusual circumstances of working together on two projects, one after the other.

Jim, who was an ardent conversationalist, always enjoyed talking with his cohort, Cybil, for by now they were good friends and understood each other philosophically and psychologically. Not only had they discussed the usual topics common among colleagues—their company, the various projects in-house, and the assignments on which they had worked—but Jim had often wandered off into very abstruse, philosophical subjects. Although he found Cybil intriguing and was drawn to her, she was, nevertheless, unable to satisfy his one overriding desire: the need to be continually engaged seducing a gorgeous young female—single or married making no difference.

Cybil, unfortunately, although being single, was an older woman—already in her fifties. Even though she had modeled when she was young and had retained her gaunt, pale, model-like features and slim, frail body, Jim, being only in his midtwenties, had absolutely no interest in her other than as a colleague with whom he could shoot the breeze in his free time. He saw her as a beat-up old lady and had, many times, voiced his opinion to her in even harsher terms. Cybil simply accepted his opinion and gracefully laughed it off because, despite his wildly exaggerated concept of her, she was, for her age, actually quite seductive and sensual… and she knew it. She had an unusual, exotic look and a gorgeously lean and toned body with long ballet-dancer legs. Certainly, she could not be described as ugly, another of Jim’s favorite descriptions of her. Because of their close psychological understanding of each other, Jim always felt free to slice her apart.

"Surely, you don’t think you’re beautiful, Cybil! And you’re already an old lady! You have a pretty good body… but… you know you’re strange looking… maybe even ugly. Like you said, everyone stares at you on the street… but not because you’re some great beauty!"

Jim and Cybil had shared many hours of raw, intimate conversation over the last two years—both on the job and between assignments. They were well matched, both being garrulous, reflective, disputatious, and completely insensitive to each other’s insults. Cybil knew intimate details about Jim’s affairs with young girls—sometimes as many as two or three a month. She knew how easily he snared his women, how he reveled in turning them on with his charm and good looks, how he would spend time and money on them until they hinted of any seriousness, and then how he would quickly drop them. He often told her long, involved tales of this or that woman—what she looked like, how she was in bed, what emotional impact he was having on her.

Not only was Cybil privy to Jim’s many escapades, but she also gleaned tidbits regarding his marriage. Often, she had spoken to his wife, Janet, when she called him at work. Cybil had observed that Jim treated his wife as the moment dictated—sometimes warmly, sometimes coldly, sometimes like a piece of dirt. Many times, Jim had asked Cybil to lie to his wife and provide him with a plausible covers for his frivolous escapades with women. When Jim made it clear that he would be at an extended lunch with a new, young woman, at some woman’s apartment, or at a hotel, sleeping with his latest conquest, Cybil would reluctantly convey to his wife that he had been called away unexpectedly to an afternoon meeting or had gone to a class for the remainder of the day. After many such lies that she told on behalf of her friend, Cybil knew, with a woman’s instinct, that Janet was well aware of her husband’s blatant philandering, but like many wives, she chose to accept and ignore it rather than seriously shake up their marriage, which also involved two very young children.

She loves me, Jim would brag to Cybil. She’ll never leave me… no matter how far I take my affairs… and I’m pretty sure she knows all about them. There are some nights I never even come home! I’m at some woman’s apartment or we shack up at some plush hotel. Janet and I just argue. I lie… the most asinine lies and stories! If she doesn’t believe my nonsense… and I wouldn’t either… that’s just too bad. I won’t fight and argue with her… what most women just love. I just leave her to her tears. She gets over it. She loves me too much to do anything… so I do whatever I want. I have her as my home base, you see, and I can have all these other women too! She’s like an anchor, when I need some settling down… but not too much… and not with heavy constraints! Pretty great deal, don’t you agree, Cybil?

He was an arrogant hedonist when it came to women and had that devil-may-care attitude, which never failed to electrify and thrill them. And troublesomely, it also excited Cybil. Ever since she had first seen him—the new employee sauntering to his desk one morning—she had decided he was a young man she wanted to meet. And meet him she most certainly had!

Cybil, although not married, had a beau with whom she’d been for over fifteen years. But now, their once fiery, romantic relationship had mellowed into being simply best of friends and soul mates. Even though she had no thought of ever abandoning her longtime boyfriend, Gary, she herself occasionally became involved in torrid, sexual affairs—affairs that remained forever concealed from her significant other. Like Jim, she was also somewhat bored and jaded, always receptive to a bit of romantic excitement on the side. And… she had an affinity for very artistic-looking young men like Jim. He was exactly the type who appealed to her—in every way.

All this, of course, she and Jim had eventually discussed once they had become close friends, and he had made it abundantly clear that even if Cybil had designs on him, she would never succeed. She was just too ancient, too archaic and horrid looking for him. Her pretty-good body could not make up for her hideously weird face. In their long, candid conversations, he liked being able to randomly and with impunity toss insults at her. Jim knew quite well what one could and could not say to a lady, but with Cybil, the rules were nonexistent. She was most definitely a special breed of woman—one reason why he found her delightful and fascinating. She had an ego and self-esteem that could not be shattered, and he was impressed.

So even though Jim found Cybil’s uniqueness stimulating and her conversation to his taste, he had repeatedly made it clear to her that he and she would never become involved in a romantic interlude, no matter how much she might desire and dream of it. Despite this however, from the moment Jim, at one of their monthly meetings, had first directly taken notice of her with an almost imperceptible smile directed her way—which she reciprocated—she had indeed desired him as a lover.

When they had first met some two years earlier, she had thought it quite possible she might ensnare him. After all, she had had not a few love affairs and casual sexual flings with men she had met on various projects at IAC, so she saw no reason why she could not eventually have Jim. But now, after having worked closely with him these last two years, her feelings for him had grown more serious. She no longer desired him for just a casual, workplace fling, but dreamed and hoped their relationship might eventually become much more—a long, serious, and passionate romance. Even though she had her boyfriend, Gary, Cybil was perfectly capable of maintaining, in her heart, two distinct loves. Her boyfriend was her reality, her genuine soul mate—probably for life. Jim, on the other hand, might offer her the feverish and blazing fires of a passionate, sparkling, wildly sexual love affair—one that might even be sustained for years.

Sadly, every night before falling asleep, Cybil fantasized over Jim. He appeared in her dreams as her phantom lover, and she continually thought about him: where was he, what was he doing, with whom was he sleeping. She wanted to be more than just his good friend at work; she wanted him to desire her—more than he had ever desired all the glamorous young women he carelessly seduced. And now, because he seemed so completely out of reach, she hungered for him even more.

To further complicate Cybil’s smoldering infatuation, her boyfriend, who also worked for IAC but in another division, had recently met Jim. Between assignments, Jim had been requested by management to do a small piece of work for Gary—only lasting a few weeks. Now, Cybil, if it pleased her, could even drag Jim into her conversations at home with her boyfriend. And because she was unable to shackle her thoughts of Jim for any prolonged period of time, she did just this—often under the slightest pretense, bringing up her phantom lover’s name.

Yes… you know Jim thinks… or Well, the other day at work, Jim said…

Unfortunately, it soon became apparent to Cybil that, in the short time that Jim had worked for Gary, Gary had come to intensely dislike him—finding Jim to be exceedingly arrogant, deviously clever, and too glib for his own good.

I don’t care what your friend Jim thinks. He’s just a big asshole, Gary would angrily respond.

Although he was perceptive when it came to understanding people, he could not see that his girlfriend was infatuated with Jim, believing herself to be in love with him. It just never occurred to Gary that she could see anything positive in this so-called arrogant ass, as Gary so aptly referred to him. Yet despite Gary’s harshly negative opinion, Cybil persisted in her yearnings to see Jim transformed from a friend to a lover.

You know, Cybil, Jim continued in his maligning of her, if you were young and beautiful, I’d fuck you. But you’re an old lady… maybe as old as my mother! And pretty ugly too! He laughed sardonically. Sexually… I could never have any interest in you! That’s for sure!

Although appearing indifferent and unfazed, Cybil was always devastated when Jim began in this manner, taunting her. Never did she grow accustomed to hearing these sentiments, no matter how often he flung them at her. And this he did often as their friendship blossomed over the two years since they had met.

After hours and hours of conversation in the bullpen and on the projects they worked together, they knew everything about each other. Despite this, they always found untapped, abstruse topics to ponder. Cybil valued their relationship even if it did cause her undue torment. They were so intimate mentally; why could they not become intimate physically?

No doubt, she had made inroads with Jim. She knew he liked her and sought her out above any other of his friends at IAC. She had worked slowly and methodically over the last two years and felt that she was almost within striking distance of transforming him from a friend to a lover. He just might be tempted to try her, give her a chance. If nothing else, Cybil felt on the verge of assuaging his excessive fear and embarrassment of being with an older woman. This was how she preferred to view his aversion toward her—simply fear and embarrassment of being attracted to an older woman. In fact, she knew that she was not ugly as Jim professed, but quite sexy and sensual. Many men, both young and old, had reaffirmed this, so she felt it was just Jim’s special, irrational idiosyncrasy that had to be overcome.

Now, on this particular spring afternoon, as Jim sat with Cybil in the bullpen at work, both being off assignment, their conversation took an unexpected turn. It was Cybil who took the turn, but Jim inconceivably and avidly followed along. Over the last year or so, whenever they bumped into each other like this, she felt convinced that he was beginning to soften toward her. She had begun to notice him eying her firm small breasts and shapely long legs. Somehow, it felt different between them, and Cybil thought that perhaps the time was right. Of course, she knew she would be only one in his stable of women, but she was willing to plunge in on these terms.

Jim, she began, grabbing onto a brief lull in their conversation, "after all these years… do you still find me so awful looking?"

He was so quick-witted, glib, and thoroughly sarcastic, but this time, with this question, he carefully considered his answer. He wanted to be sincere since it had always been that way between them.

Well, Cybil… surprisingly… you’ve actually grown on me… just as you once said you would. Remember how you said your face took ‘getting used to’? I suppose that was true. I guess I’m used to it! And you know, I told you before… you have a fabulous body… despite your old age… Mom!

He still had to be caustic; it was the nature of their relationship. However, with this very direct question, he had to acknowledge, to both her and himself, that his feelings toward her had indeed gradually altered. Just as she had predicted, he no longer found her to be ugly, but strangely sensual and provocative. It was certainly true that he no longer perceived her as a repulsive old, ugly hag, the words that he often blithely tossed her way and that she always gracefully accepted. And now, he knew that he could indeed make love to her.

"You know, Jim, we could go to my place one afternoon. We wouldn’t be missed by management."

Jim was stunned; he had never expected to hear this from his friend. After all, hadn’t he beaten it into every fiber of her body—that she was old and ugly and not for him?

And so, when Cybil took that plunge and offered herself to Jim, he nonchalantly accepted.

Sure, Cybil, he replied casually with a mischievous glint in his eyes, I think I could be interested. Let’s make plans for a rendezvous.

Consequently, after two years and numerous hours of intimate probing and philosophical conversations all taking place within the confines of their work relationship at IAC, Jim and Cybil took the audacious step of moving their liaison to a private space and becoming casual lovers—often disappearing from the bullpen in the afternoons or meeting after-hours at her apartment. Even though Cybil was madly in love with Jim, she knew that he labeled their relationship as nothing more than fucking friends. He came to her apartment three or four times a month, guzzled down her liquor, smoked dozens of cigarettes, gobbled up her snacks, and fucked his old-lady mistress, still persisting in referring to her in this condescending manner. Never in his life, he claimed, had he ever imagined himself bedding an old lady, a woman more than double his age, yet he had to admit that she was a hot lady with a phenomenal body… better than many of the young babes whom he had seduced.

Although Cybil loved him passionately and was proud to have finally ensnared him, she was clever enough and knew his tactics well enough to keep their relationship on casual, nonserious terms. This was the way to hold him. After all, how many times had he griped to her about some young woman who was becoming serious and had to be immediately discarded. When a woman in his stable became serious, pushy, or demanding of his time, Jim walked away. But Cybil had no need to worry because now, Jim was coming to her of his own accord. After her first and only push, he had taken the lead. On the days he suggested they leave work and run off somewhere, she obediently agreed; she allowed him to do the asking. He had come to crave the good sex he got with a mature woman, the pleasant, angst-free times, and the esoteric conversation after and between their bouts of scorching lovemaking—something he rarely found with his young beauties. Cybil thought he came to her as much for the good conversation as for the good sex. Nevertheless, she accepted the relationship as it came to her; she dare not attempt to alter it or make it more than he wished it to be. Jim made the choices and set the standards; Cybil merely followed along. Otherwise, she would surely have lost him.

During their almost weekly extravagant, erotic romps, after sex, often before, their discussions would range far and wide over many abstruse, intellectual topics. Of course, they weren’t always limited to profound subjects; no discussion was out-of-bounds, especially that of money matters, a personal topic most people, even very good friends, usually refrain from discussing. Yet it was one of Jim’s favorites. He often discussed his financial affairs with Cybil since, with his wife and his stable of young women, the topic was definitely taboo. Without prying, Cybil began learning the details of Jim’s current financial state, often more than she cared to know, since the topic was painting Jim in a new, lamentable, and distasteful light—as an inveterate, dissipated profligate. It was a portrait of him she had not seen, a Pandora’s box that Jim had never been able to open with anyone, dare not, for it led to some rather startling facts about his life—facts that he was having difficulty confronting. Nevertheless, being rational and brilliantly intelligent, he wanted desperately to examine his life. He wanted someone to listen, to advise him. And that person was now none other than his work colleague and newly established mistress, Cybil.

You know, Cybil, he began as they lay in bed together, Jim already on his third cigarette. It was the opening salvo of the topic that later came to occupy many hours of their discussions at her apartment. "Don’t you find that IAC pays us so damn little? For professional software designers and developers… at the top company in the world… it’s pathetic! I can’t really live on what they pay me! You know, I have a hoity-toity, rich Jewish princess wife, a six-year-old boy, and another kid on the way. My wife spends and spends. She loves me… I know… but she also sees me as her meal ticket. She used to work… but she quit years ago… to take care of the kid.

And then… I may have mentioned before… I have a huge amount to pay in student loans… my two master’s degrees at Columbia. And now—he took the last puff of his cigarette— we just moved into this big, luxury apartment… for the kids, you know… the rent’s over three thousand a month. But… I like to live big, as they say. We buy lots of stuff we probably don’t need… take at least two expensive vacations a year. I always had money growing up… like you probably did. But my dad gives me nothing now. I’m on my own… and I’m just used to buying whatever I want… whatever my wife wants… whatever the kid wants. I’m really drowning in debt, Cybil.

He paused; Cybil was silent. She was stunned to learn that Jim was in financial difficulty. He always bragged about his $500 suits and $100 ties and made fun of her when she bragged that not a single thing she wore except her coats cost more than thirty dollars.

And what about you, Cybil? How do you stand… your savings and all that, he continued pecking away at the subject while stroking her long hair and pulling her close. Of course, you have twenty years on me… old woman! And no family, no kids, no husband… none of that miserable baggage… no rope around your neck… like I have.

But, Jim, Cybil retorted, focusing on his last remarks about his family, you have a family… I have no one. We both pay in different ways… you financially, me… well… being lonely and worrying about dying alone and all that. We’ve been on that topic many times, haven’t we?

It was here that Jim told her that he wished he had never married. He actually hated being someone’s meal ticket—having so many people dependent on him. Even though at one time he loved his wife, it was all over between them, and what remained were just major financial responsibilities from which he could not extricate himself. If he could, he would walk away from it all and be a carefree beach bum out on the West Coast. But it was simply not possible. Still, he bewailed his situation: being tied down to a career he didn’t enjoy just so he could support all the baggage that he had acquired. Baggage was Jim’s word for his big, fancy home, spendthrift wife, and kids.

Cybil was nothing less than dumbfounded at learning that Jim no longer loved his wife and, most shocking to her, didn’t even like his work. This was such a different picture from that which she had previously conceived of him. He was such a talented software designer and the company’s star performer, yet he detested it all! Although she said little, Cybil was astounded over these revelations on his marriage and his financial predicament; these were topics that had never been broached back in the IAC bullpen.

Yes, Cybil, he rambled on, I do have family and all that… but… I didn’t tell you… I’ve already applied to declare bankruptcy. I just can’t pay all my bills… not on the pittance they pay me at IAC. I have no choice but to declare bankruptcy.

Again, Cybil was jolted and completely baffled.

But we make pretty good money, Jim. It’s not a million bucks… but it’s adequate. How can you be so in debt?

Cybil, you know I’m not bullshitting you. We’re always honest with one another. That’s the truth. And once I declare bankruptcy, I can’t even have a damn checking account! I can hardly believe it myself. But that’s where I am.

At this point, he took Cybil in his arms and, for the second time that evening, made love to her. The lovemaking was good for both of them even though Cybil knew she was only one among his many women. But it was fair, she thought. She had her own boyfriend; this was all their relationship could be.

Cybil, he picked up their interrupted conversation, you have no one to support… so you must have saved a neat little bundle. How much are you worth?

Even in money matters, they had to be truthful to one another. Cybil didn’t hesitate for a moment before answering.

I’m not worth very much, Jim. I’ve saved about four hundred thousand dollars, she coolly stated.

Jesus, Jim exclaimed, you’re set for life with all that!"

But it’s nothing… compared to all the millionaires and billionaires in this country… Bill Gates, Warren Buffet… those guys. I’m poor in comparison.

Yes… but next to me you’re a Bill Gates, he laughed. Look… Cybil… here we are… great friends… intimate lovers… and you should be flattered… me with a fifty-year-old woman! You know I told you over and over that it just couldn’t happen. But you certainly enticed me… and got the better of me. I’m glad we’re lovers, aren’t you?

Cybil casually agreed even though she was euphoric over Jim’s backhanded flattery. Maybe one day he would really love her. Unfortunately, that idea was far from Jim’s thoughts. She was thinking of him and their evolving relationship; he, on the other hand, was only thinking of himself—his impossible financial situation. And it was then, as he lay there taking a sip of vodka, that the idea struck. It was, at first, just flung out jokingly.

"Look, Cybil, we’re great friends… have been… going on almost three years. We can talk about anything, be honest with each other… and now we’re lovers. But do we really trust one another?"

Cybil jumped at the bait.

Of course we do! How could you doubt it, Jim? Really!

Well, Jim continued, following the logical path of his impromptu strategy, "you know… money is the real test of trust. If you lend money… then there’s real friendship and trust."

Perhaps… maybe, Cybil hesitated, growing nervous. She knew where he was leading her now.

Well… hypothetically… would you lend me money?

Come on, Jim! I think that’s the best way to lose a friend… and a lover!

Jim continued to press his idea.

"But if you really trust me… and care for me… as I think you do, then you should trust me with money too. I can’t believe you don’t trust me. That’s sad, Cybil. Really sad. Are you saying you wouldn’t trust me to pay you back?"

Cybil had never heard the word trust so many times. How, she thought, had they ever gotten into this distasteful conversation? Yet she had to follow Jim… outmaneuver him.

Well… how much are we talking about… hypothetically? she shot back.

Say… hypothetically… a thousand dollars.

She had been expecting a larger amount.

"Oh… I guess I’d trust you with that… that you’d pay it back. It’s not that much money!"

Would you, Cybil? Really?

He kissed her passionately on the lips.

"I’m fairly sure I could lend you a thousand. You know I care about you. And since I see you almost every day at work, I’d be after you everyday if you didn’t pay me back. Still… I think it’s just not a great idea. Friendships… affairs… end over money. You know that as well as I do."

They both laughed.

"Oh! Come on, Cybil. You’re not worried about us! We know each other so well… and we truly like each other… not just sex… but we’re true friends. You know, old lady, how I’ve stuck with you as my best friend… for all these years! Let’s do it, Cybil! Let’s have another tight bond between us… because were stuck on each other… because we’re lovers. Let’s have a financial bond, too… a bond representing genuine trust and sincerity."

He was so glib, so convincing. And all this, Jim had concocted spontaneously. He had just allowed one idea to lead to the next, and presto, he had arrived at the loan—some ready money to pay off a few of his pressing bills. At this very moment, he owed the rent, and Cybil’s money would cover almost half of it. He knew that the loss of a thousand dollars—what with her hundreds of thousands just sitting in some bank—would be no hardship whatsoever for Cybil. In fact, Jim was delighted with his clever ploy that he had just dreamt up with a bit of sex, some expensive vodka, and a few half-smoked cigarettes.

Unfortunately, the idea did have a certain appeal for Cybil, since it symbolized their consummated romantic union after almost three years of friendship. The idea of this unorthodox secret loan set Cybil’s romantic imagination afire—that of yet another concealed bond between them. They would be even more than just ordinary clandestine work-lovers. Imagine the daring involved in lending to a work colleague! Such an idea would certainly garner no rave reviews from family and friends!

Of course, she would never tell a soul that she had lent her lover a thousand dollars! She knew what the reaction would be.

What? You lent a thousand dollars to some guy at work… and you’re sleeping with him too? Fool! What an easy mark you are! You know, you’ll be fighting with him over that money. You’ll lose both him and your money! Maybe even get into trouble at work! What if he becomes your boss? You’ll see.

Nevertheless, the loan was made. Before Jim left, Cybil wrote a check for a thousand dollars, and Jim folded it neatly and tucked it away in his wallet. They spent time setting up a notebook to keep track of the loan and Jim’s payments; he agreed to pay her at least twenty-five dollars each week until the debt was paid off. Then, a document, which both signed, was composed, officially stating that a loan was made, to whom, when, the amount, and the agreed-upon method of payment. In fact, they spent over two hours, a delightful time, meticulously developing all their additional required loan paraphernalia. And after all this, the loan became a part of their love affair—another unconventional secret for both to guard. At every rendezvous, they spoke of their loan—their lover’s bond—and were proud that they had been able to accomplish the deed, that they had such a sturdy, cast-iron relationship represented by the thousand dollars now further welding them together.

In the beginning, Jim regularly paid his twenty-five dollars. Even if they didn’t meet at her apartment, he would run into Cybil somewhere and make his payment. But after several months, his payments began to fall behind. He offered her one excuse after another: his son was ill and had run up huge medical bills, his wife had been laid off from her job, he had had to entertain his in-laws at a sumptuous dinner to appease his wife. And then of course, the most potent excuse—he was, after all, in the midst of declaring bankruptcy. Cybil always forgave him