she had responded. Tasha bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to roll her eyes. The man had strong-armed his way into an invitation, and now he was claiming she invited him? “How about we have a private little party…” He lowered his voice and leaned over this fence slightly, his eyes dropping to the front of her blouse. “Just you… and me… and that little girlfriend of yours.”
Tasha swallowed hard and straightened up. “And what would your wife have to say about that?”
Ray laughed out loud, his teeth flashing white in the twilight. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“I don’t cheat on my husband.” She turned her back to him and started toward her own side door. Ray’s next comment stopped her.
“So, that means hubby knows what you two are up to while he’s at work?”
“Excuse me?” She stiffened, facing him again. Her heart was beating too fast in her chest and she took a deep breath. “What are you talking about?”
“Hey, Mrs. Ryan from across the street came up to me the other day asking about you, ya know.” He changed the subject smoothly and Tasha frowned at him. “She kept asking me about all the people going in and out of your house all the time—wanted to know if you were selling drugs or something.”
She blinked at him, stunned. It had never occurred to her that her neighbors would even notice , let alone assume…
“I told her you weren’t.” He reassured her with a wink. And then said, “But I could have told her the truth.”
“And what…” Tasha swallowed, forcing the tremble from her voice. “And what, exactly, is the truth?”
He crossed his arms over the top of the fence and leaned his chin on them. It looked like a casual thing, but Tasha saw the glint in his eyes. “I think you at least have to have some sort of a license for this thing you’re running out of your little basement, you know…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and it was such a phony gesture that Tasha would have laughed – if he hadn’t followed it up with his next comment. “I wonder if it would be legally considered prostitution?”
“The Sybian Club is not illegal,” she insisted, hoping her stiffened spine and haughty demeanor belied any of her sudden doubts. “And even if you wanted to tell the authorities about it, I’m sure they’d be interested to hear that you made a visit to my little basement with your wife and had a great old time.”
Ray held his hands up in a warding-off gesture, chuckling. “Hey, I’m not threatening anything here…”
“No?” Tasha softened a little but her eyes pinned him narrowly still, watchful, waiting.
“No… see… I was just wondering…” His smile turned up at the corners, his gaze dropping again, this time to her short hemline and the tall boots she wore. “If you and your girlfriend wanted a little company in the afternoons?”
She couldn’t believe his arrogance. “If we do, I’ll let you know.” She turned back to the house, ignoring his last remark.
“You do that!”
Her cheeks felt hot as she set the bottle of champagne down on the table and she was glad Max wasn’t in the kitchen. She needed a few moments to compose herself. It was the camera that had made her forget all about her neighbor, she realized. Ashley had known right away who that camera belonged to.
“Your husband’s been watching us,” Ashley had whispered as they left the room. They both whispered, at Tasha’s insistence—she didn’t know if the camera picked up audio or not.
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Tasha before the words were out, but there it was, and she knew it must be true. Who else?
“I don’t—” Tasha wanted to deny it but found she couldn’t.
They sat at this very kitchen table that night, she remembered, each of them ironically wearing one of Max’s t-shirts which Tasha had retrieved from his drawer, and talked.
“Are you mad?” That was the first question Tasha asked her and she
Tasha swallowed hard and straightened up. “And what would your wife have to say about that?”
Ray laughed out loud, his teeth flashing white in the twilight. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“I don’t cheat on my husband.” She turned her back to him and started toward her own side door. Ray’s next comment stopped her.
“So, that means hubby knows what you two are up to while he’s at work?”
“Excuse me?” She stiffened, facing him again. Her heart was beating too fast in her chest and she took a deep breath. “What are you talking about?”
“Hey, Mrs. Ryan from across the street came up to me the other day asking about you, ya know.” He changed the subject smoothly and Tasha frowned at him. “She kept asking me about all the people going in and out of your house all the time—wanted to know if you were selling drugs or something.”
She blinked at him, stunned. It had never occurred to her that her neighbors would even notice , let alone assume…
“I told her you weren’t.” He reassured her with a wink. And then said, “But I could have told her the truth.”
“And what…” Tasha swallowed, forcing the tremble from her voice. “And what, exactly, is the truth?”
He crossed his arms over the top of the fence and leaned his chin on them. It looked like a casual thing, but Tasha saw the glint in his eyes. “I think you at least have to have some sort of a license for this thing you’re running out of your little basement, you know…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and it was such a phony gesture that Tasha would have laughed – if he hadn’t followed it up with his next comment. “I wonder if it would be legally considered prostitution?”
“The Sybian Club is not illegal,” she insisted, hoping her stiffened spine and haughty demeanor belied any of her sudden doubts. “And even if you wanted to tell the authorities about it, I’m sure they’d be interested to hear that you made a visit to my little basement with your wife and had a great old time.”
Ray held his hands up in a warding-off gesture, chuckling. “Hey, I’m not threatening anything here…”
“No?” Tasha softened a little but her eyes pinned him narrowly still, watchful, waiting.
“No… see… I was just wondering…” His smile turned up at the corners, his gaze dropping again, this time to her short hemline and the tall boots she wore. “If you and your girlfriend wanted a little company in the afternoons?”
She couldn’t believe his arrogance. “If we do, I’ll let you know.” She turned back to the house, ignoring his last remark.
“You do that!”
Her cheeks felt hot as she set the bottle of champagne down on the table and she was glad Max wasn’t in the kitchen. She needed a few moments to compose herself. It was the camera that had made her forget all about her neighbor, she realized. Ashley had known right away who that camera belonged to.
“Your husband’s been watching us,” Ashley had whispered as they left the room. They both whispered, at Tasha’s insistence—she didn’t know if the camera picked up audio or not.
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Tasha before the words were out, but there it was, and she knew it must be true. Who else?
“I don’t—” Tasha wanted to deny it but found she couldn’t.
They sat at this very kitchen table that night, she remembered, each of them ironically wearing one of Max’s t-shirts which Tasha had retrieved from his drawer, and talked.
“Are you mad?” That was the first question Tasha asked her and she
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