Tell Me What You Want, Page 2

  19 When my alarm rings, I just want to die. I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept, thinking about what happened in that bar. Eric’s words, his gaze, and how those men wanted me kept me awake. Finally, at about four in the morning, I took the vibrator out of my suitcase; and after playing around for a while, I managed to quench my desire. Like the day before, Amanda, Eric, and I leave the hotel with a driver who takes us to the office to continue the meeting. I’m wearing slacks today. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday. As soon as he sees me, Eric looks me over, and though he only says, “Good morning,” I can tell by his tone he’s no longer upset. During the hours we’re at the meeting, Eric and I only glance each other’s way a few times. He doesn’t send me emails today, nor does he stop the proceedings for any reason. I’m grateful. At seven o’clock, when we get back to the hotel, I say good night to both him and Amanda and go up to my room. Someone knocks on my door. I open it and am not surp

  20 Our weekend ends, and on Monday, a plane takes us to Guipúzcoa. Amanda’s short and distant with me, in contrast to how she is with Eric. It really bothers me the way she tries to make sure he doesn’t pay attention to me. And yet, it always turns out badly for her. As the boss, Eric is constantly seeking me out, and it drives Amanda out of her mind. We go from meeting to meeting, and after Guipúzcoa, we’re off to Asturias. During the day, Eric and I work side by side as boss and admin; and at night, we play and enjoy each other. His inclination toward experimentation is innate, and every time we’re alone, he drives me mad with his fantasies, with his way of touching and taking me. He loves to watch when I masturbate with the vibrator he gave me, a whim of his I’m more than happy to indulge. He makes me feel such lust that I want to go back to that swingers’ club and do everything again. When I confess this to him, he laughs aloud, and when he penetrates me, he fantasizes that it’s an

  21 At the end of the workday, Amanda, Eric, and I go out to the waiting limo together, but I don’t give him a chance to humiliate me again—of my own volition, I take a seat up front with the driver. I can hear them. In fact, I can hear Amanda giggling and laughing up a storm. I keep waiting for the divider to separate us, but this time, Eric doesn’t close off the backseat. He wants me to hear everything they’re saying. He’s speaking in German, and just hearing him sets me off. When we arrive at the hotel, I open my door and step out. I want more than anything in the world to get away from Eric and his companion, but instead, I wait courteously for them to emerge from the limo. When they do, I say good night and take my leave. I practically run to the elevator. When the doors close, I let out a long sigh of relief. The day has been horrible, and I want to disappear. As soon as I open the door to my suite, I toss my briefcase on the beautiful couch. I turn on some music. I let my hair do

  22 When I wake up in my own bed on Friday, I take a glance at the alarm clock on my nightstand. It’s seven minutes after one. I’ve slept away the morning. Since my sister doesn’t know I’m back, she hasn’t come over, and for just a few seconds, I’m so relieved. I really don’t want to have to explain anything. As soon as I get up, I look for my cell. Turns out it’s in my bag, on “Silent.” Two missed calls from my sister, two from Fernando, and twelve from Eric. Whoa! I don’t answer any of them. I don’t want to talk to anybody. My anger returns, and I decide to clean house. Whenever I’m really mad, housecleaning is my best therapy. By three in the afternoon, my apartment is upside down. Clothes everywhere, bleach, furniture out of place . . . but I couldn’t care less. I’m the queen of the house. I’m the boss here. Suddenly, I feel an urge to iron. As I sing along with the radio, I put away all the trouble that’s been hammering in my head: Eric. I iron a dress, a skirt, two T-shirts, and a

  23 I wake up startled. I look at the clock: 4:38 a.m. I’m alone in bed. Where’s Eric? I don’t want him to be gone. I quickly get up. When I come into the living room, I see him putting some drops in his eyes and swallowing something he chases with a glass of water. Then he sits down, puts in my earbuds to listen to my iPod, and closes his eyes. I watch him for a bit and smile. He’s just listening to music. When he hears me, he opens his eyes and gets up. “Are you OK?” “Yes, it’s just that when I didn’t see you, I thought you’d left.” “I don’t sleep much, like I told you.” “I saw you taking something . . . What was it?” “Aspirin. I have a headache,” he says, flashing an enchanting smile. I accept his answer and move to the kitchen. I need a drink of water. When I open the fridge, I see the truffles and decide to have one. I drink my water, put a couple of truffles on a tray, and return to the living room. Sitting on the couch, Eric grins when he sees me. “Hmm . . .” Feeling good, I smil

  24 After a marvelous Saturday together, I’m awakened around six o’clock on Sunday morning by strange noises coming from the bathroom. I get up and am surprised to find Eric vomiting. When he sees me, he gets angry and tells me to leave and wait in the other room. When he finally comes out, grimacing, he sits on the couch and closes his eyes. “What’s wrong?” “Something must not have gone down right last night.” “Do you want some chamomile to settle your stomach?” With his eyes closed, Eric shakes his head. “Please . . . turn off the light and go to sleep,” he says. “But . . .” “Jude . . . ,” he whispers. He’s upset. Without another word, I vanish and lie down in bed. I try to understand that he’s not feeling well, and the last thing he wants is to have me beside him, asking questions. I go to sleep and wake up around ten o’clock. As soon as I open my eyes, I see Eric by my side. He smiles and seems in a good mood. “Good morning.” “Good morning . . . Are you feeling better?” “Perfect. Li

  25 Monday I listlessly make my way to the shower. I’m exhausted. I haven’t been able to sleep, thinking about Eric. As I’m getting dressed, my eyes fix on the little lamp. I sit down on the bed and touch the outline of his lips and his name on the shade. For a good while, I stay like that, just contemplating it while thinking about him. I finally get moving. When I arrive at the office, I put my bag on my desk and sense someone coming up behind me. It’s Miguel. “Good morning, gorgeous.” “Good morning.” When he notices my lack of interest, he steps up to me and takes a closer look. “What’s going on?” he whispers. “Did the Iceman overwork you? You look horrible.” His comment animates me. “Yes,” I say, “he’s a real slave driver. Otherwise, I’m fine.” That’s when Miguel notices the bandage on my arm. “What happened?” “I burned myself with the iron,” I say, not offering more of an explanation. Miguel nods. “When did you get back from the trip?” “Thursday night. The rest of the meetings have

  26 Tuesday I send Eric an email . . . No answer. My supervisor is killing me with work. Any day now, I’ll tell her to go to hell and shoot myself. Fernando calls. When I talk to him, he insists I move up my trip to Jerez.

  27 Wednesday I send Eric another email . . . He doesn’t respond, again. Today I save my supervisor’s ass. Gerardo, the chief of staff, pays us an unexpected visit, and I have to be pretty quick on my feet to keep him from catching my horny boss and Miguel in a not-quite-professional entanglement in her office.

  28 Thursday I refuse to write Eric any more emails. But in the end, I can’t help myself; I send him a one-word message: Dickhead!

  29 Friday My desperation is through the roof. No news. No calls. Nada. Clearly, I was just his plaything for a few days, and now all I can do is forget about him. Plus, my supervisor is on the verge. Today she embarrasses me in front of several colleagues. I don’t tell her to stick it, because I need this job. In the evening, my friend Azu calls, and we agree to go to the movies. We see I Want You, and I end up crying . . . I cry like a baby. It’s beautiful and sad at the same time. I feel just like Ginebra, a misunderstood but hardworking young woman who’s madly in love with a man who has lots of secrets. As we leave, a group of friends who’ve been waiting for us tease me. Nobody quite gets how I could cry like this over a movie, and they suggest we go to Plaza Mayor for a bite to eat. They know that I’ll like that and it’ll lift my spirits. Between edibles, t
here’s a river of beer, and I finally manage to get my smile back. After that, we go for more drinks, and by four o’clock in th

  30 I decide to go out with my friends again on Sunday evening. We have a few beers at Asencio’s Bar and dinner at a pizzeria; and after dinner, we go drinking at Amnesia. About an hour later and still at Amnesia, Fernando appears out of nowhere. I’m quite taken aback, but he just grins. “What are you doing here?” “Jerez is very boring without you.” A little freaked out by his sudden cameo, I just stare at him. “Fernando . . . I’ve never lied to you and . . .” He puts a finger to my mouth to shut me up. “I know, but I can’t help it. C’mon . . . let’s go to my hotel. We have to talk.” I say goodbye to my friends and tell Azu I’ll be back soon. I already know what I have to do. The conversation with Fernando will be short and, surely, not very pleasant. When we get to his hotel, the tension is high. I refuse to go up to his room. We go to the bar instead and order something to drink. We talk for an hour, we argue, and we make our feelings known. And when I think everything’s clear and I’m

  31 When I get to Amnesia, my friends ask about Fernando. I let them know I don’t want to talk about it; they respect my silence and don’t inquire again. My good friend Nacho orders a Coke for me. “Drink . . . It’ll do you good.” An hour later, I’m much more relaxed. Nacho has taken care of making me laugh and has only let me drink Coke. According to him, liquor isn’t a good idea when somebody’s down. While we’re all hanging around and talking, I notice his arm. His tattoo gives me an idea. I grab his elbow and pull him close to me. “Is that new?” “Yes, do you like it?” I nod. I’ve always liked tattoos, and men with tattoos. Eric, of course, has nothing remotely resembling a tattoo. His skin is soft and clean. Nacho, on the other hand, is a tattoo artist and is committed to illustrating his entire body. Suddenly, I have an idea. “Nacho, would you give me a tattoo?” His almond eyes brighten. “Of course. Whenever you want, Judith.” “How much would you charge me?” Nacho smiles. “Nothing, b

  32 Monday marks the beginning of the workweek. I haven’t heard from Fernando, and I’m almost grateful. Every time I think about what I did, I’m ashamed of myself. I’m a bitch. I took advantage of his weakness because he has feelings for me, and when I got what I wanted, I left him without consideration. I look at my email a thousand times, but Eric does not answer. His silence is his response, and that upsets me even more. I’m such an idiot. My supervisor comes in, and she is especially annoying today. Miguel tries to get her away from me and manages to distract her in the best way he knows how. I keep playing the fool and pretending I don’t know what’s going on. Deep down, I’m grateful Miguel is keeping her busy today. The days pass, and my tattoo barely bothers me. I have followed all of Nacho’s instructions: it’s still under the plastic shield he gave me. There’s still no news from Eric. My supervisor, like always, continues dumping all manner of work on my desk, and I just deal wit

  33 Two days later, Fernando still hasn’t been back to the house, although he texts to ask how I’m doing and invites me to lunch or dinner. I turn down all his offers. I don’t want to see him. What is wrong with these guys? On the fifth day, I wake up in a better mood. My room is the same as always. My dad makes sure nothing changes, and when I hear his knuckles rapping at my door, I open it to reveal his happy face. “Good morning, little girl.” “Good morning, Papá,” I say. My dad has brought our breakfast, like he does every morning. It’s a little thing we do, our moment of the day to talk things over. We both enjoy it. “Fernando called. He wanted to talk to you and said he’d call later,” he says. I don’t like that, but I try not to change my expression. I don’t want my father to get the wrong idea. But he’s no fool either. “Is something going on with you and Fernando?” “No.” “Then why isn’t he coming by to see you as usual?” I know he wants the truth. “Look, Papá, let’s be honest, bec

  34 At eleven thirty, my friend Rocío comes by, and together, we go visit her nephew. By one o’clock, we’re back home and in the pool. The water is fresh and cool. Rocío tells me about her life, but she also tries to interrogate me about Fernando. When she sees I don’t want to discuss it, she drops the subject and we talk about other things. At two thirty, my friend heads home, but I linger in the pool. My phone buzzes. It’s Fernando, asking me out to eat. I say no and go lie down in the hammock to listen to music. My cell buzzes again. I curse. I pick it up, but I gasp when I read the message: Would you come and have a drink with me? It’s Eric. My heart beats faster. Eric is in Madrid, and I’m way too flustered. My throat is dry. I take a drink of my Coke. The cell beeps once more. You know I’m not very patient. My hands are trembling so much, I can’t seem to text. Finally, I manage to string some words together: I’m on vacation. I send it, and my stomach gets tied up in knots until th

  35 When we get to the racetrack, we run into Roberto at the door. He says to wait for my father in the boxes area. I tell Eric how to get there, and he jokes around, accelerating and braking so that I scream and have to hold on to him. When we get to the boxes, there’s no one there. Once we’re off the motorcycle, I pause to admire it. “Do you want me to teach you to drive it?” “Um . . . I dunno.” “Are you afraid of motorcycles?” “No . . .” “Then?” The sun is hitting my eyes, and I squint to see him better. “I’m afraid of falling and wrecking it.” “I won’t let you fall,” he says quite confidently. That makes me laugh. This is Eric, and he’s just so sure of himself. Finally, he pressures me to get back on the motorcycle. I look around and see my father is still nowhere in sight. Eric explains that the brakes are by my left foot; he shows me which hand to use to accelerate, where the clutch is, and how to stop. Then he starts the engine. “Wow, that’s some power!” “Baby, all Ducatis sound

  36 For six days, mine is a rose-colored world. Eric and my father get along wonderfully, although at first, my father is very angry with Eric because he has rented a villa. In the end, my father understands we’re adults and need privacy. My father’s friends and neighbors quickly nickname Eric “the Frankfurter,” because he’s German, and he finds that amusing. Our way of life in Spain, especially in Andalusia, is so different from the German way of life, and I see constant surprise in his eyes. As the days go by, my father is more and more taken with Eric. He likes him, respects him, and listens to him, which says a lot. In fact, they go fishing together on several afternoons and come back in high spirits. When they’re gone, I escape and go running or riding on my motorcycle. On one of those afternoons, Fernando shows up on his motorcycle. He cuts in front of me. “Are you crazy? What is that guy doing here?” he asks. Irritated, I lift up the protective shield on my helmet. “You’re crossi

  37 The road trip back to Jerez is fun. Listening to my dad and his friends telling jokes makes me want to die laughing. When we get to town, Fernando insists we go for drinks to celebrate my triumph, but I decline his invitation. When we get to my house, without changing or anything, I unload the motorcycle from the trailer, grab my trophy, and race to the villa, where Eric is waiting for me. When I get to the gate, I call in, and the enormous white gate opens two seconds later. I speed down a path completely bordered by pine trees. In the distance, I see the house, and Eric. It looks like he’s talking on the phone. I gun the engine, jump, scramble, and with a dust cloud spinning around me like a halo, I brake and come to a full stop, raise my trophy high, and proudly look at him. “You missed it. You missed my victory.” Eric doesn’t smile. He turns off his cell, turns around, and disappears into the house. Surprised by his reaction, I jump off my bike and follow him. I can’t stand it w

  38 The next day, after a night of passion and experimentation in our marvelous villa, Eric and I sunbathe in the nude while planning a getaway to Zahara de los Atunes. Neither one of us has mentioned Fernando again. Eric kisses my tattoo. He loves it. Every time we make love, he looks at me hungrily and exclaims, “Tell me what you want!” It drives me crazy. Eric has suggested we visit some friends of his in Zahara, and I think that’s fine
. We can spend a few days with them and then return to the villa, which, for the record, I love. It’s just beautiful here. That night, when Eric takes me home, I find my father in the backyard, sitting on the porch swing, and I go say hi. “This man is good for you, little girl.” “Oh yeah? Why?” I ask playfully as I take a seat next to him on the swing. “He looks at you the same way I used to look at your mother, and I like that. Until recently, I thought Fernando was the right man for you. But after meeting Eric, I’ve changed my mind. You and Eric are

  39 At nine in the evening, after that stupendous shower experience (which I’m sure everyone in the world heard), we go down hand in hand to the living room. There we find Frida and Andrés making out, but they stop when they see us. We all go to the dining room and sit down around a marvelous table. Eric holds my chair for me and sits beside me. He looks happy. This is his world, and it’s obvious he’s comfortable here. The staff pours us wine and then serves an exquisite lobster. Eric orders a Coke for me. Between laughter and conversation, we finish the first course, and then they serve us the second, a delicious meat dish. After we’re done with the last treat, a heavenly ice cream they offer us as dessert, Frida suggests we go out to the garden. After attending to a phone call, Eric comes and sits by my side. I feel his constant caresses and notice he’s more introspective than he was just minutes ago. Even so, we talk into the wee hours of the morning, when we all decide to turn in. T