Peter turned and pantomimed his apologies, but I waved them off and beckoned for him to go on. Then I sat quietly watching him in action with his people. When they would ask his opinion, he would take the time to listen and then ask his own questions, often eliciting the answers from them. I also found it revealing to see how comfortable his people were dealing with him. They deferred to his judgment but clearly weren’t intimidated or obsequious.
When I finally slipped away, I had a much clearer picture of Peter. “Very interesting,” I thought. “It’s nice to see someone in authority who doesn’t act like a jerk.”
That afternoon Marge stopped by my desk to ask me to join her at the tavern again. I was gratified to get a second invitation and gladly accepted.
Once her beer and my wine spritzer had been delivered, she leaned on the table and looked at me carefully. “I saw you eating lunch with Peter today. Anything going on between you two that I should know about?”
“Not at all,” I said hastily. “He came by about some business just before lunch, so it was only natural that we’d wander down to the cafeteria together. I was glad because it gave me a chance to get to know him a little better.”
Marge looked at me slyly. “So what did you learn?”
“Well, I learned that he seems like a genuinely nice guy. He also seems to be a good leader who’s respected by the people who work for him.”
When I saw Marge looking expectantly, I went on. “And I learned that he’s a happily married man who loves and admires his wife,” I said firmly.
Marge cocked her head and asked, “And that’s all?”
I sighed. “Look, Marge, I told you I’m not in the market for male companionship right now. Even if I were, I’m not a homewrecker,” I said forcefully.
She looked at me carefully, and her expression became more sympathetic. “Somebody really hurt you badly, didn’t they? Want to talk about it?”
I was about to deny it, but suddenly something inside seemed to give way and, to my surprise, I heard the whole ugly story start to pour out of me.
“I found Mr. Right my senior year in college. Actually, I guess, he found me, but whatever the case, I knew he was the one right away. We got married soon after graduation and started our lives together, just like it’s supposed to happen in the American Dream.
“He took a lot of pride in my appearance and loved for us to go out to places where he could show me off. At first I felt a little uncomfortable with that, but it made him so ,uh, ‘enthusiastic’ when we went home that I was happy to do it. Even when he began to ask me to wear more revealing clothes, I was willing to go along to please him.”
My throat had gotten dry, so I paused to take a sip of my drink.
“Before I met him, I hadn’t been very active sexually. I guess I didn’t want to get a reputation. Anyway, once we were married, our sex life was really good, at least for me. But my dear husband wasn’t satisfied. After a couple of years he introduced the idea of role playing. At first I was hurt because I thought that meant he was dissatisfied with me. But I soon learned that what he really wanted was for me to fantasize about other men when we were in bed together. I tried to explain that I couldn’t separate love and sex, but he kept urging me, so finally I began to pretend he was Brad Pitt.”
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