Smaragdus

It was late, and the only ones left in the museum were the security guards - and Carol. She was sitting behind her desk in her office, browsing bank statements and other financial documents that spoke plainly about the sorry state of her current situation. The money she was making just wasn’t cutting it, and nothing in her immediate future indicated a turn for the better.

Christ , Carol thought, turning the emerald ring in her finger. It had become a nervous habit, something she resorted to when deeply troubled. Five thousand dollars… like fixing a pinhole on the hull of the Titanic . She had tried her best to keep both herself and Harge afloat, but no matter what she had come up with, she was still sinking fast. I am only postponing the inevitable. We’ll lose the house, and I’ll end up a poor bag lady pushing Harge’s wheelchair back and forth over the Brooklyn Bridge .

The brand new layout for the leaflet to promote the upcoming exhibition caught her eye. It was waiting for her green light. The cover of the four-color-flyer flaunted the 19th century portrait of the empress Marie-Louise with her infant son, Napoleon II, painted by Joseph Franque. The famous necklace and earrings graced the inner spread. Almost forty emeralds, over 1200 diamonds, gold and silver… an amazing fortune by any standard , Carol mused, tracing the details of the photo with the tip of her right index finger while her other hand played with the small key hanging from the chain around her neck. Suddenly such unbounded abundance seemed ludicrous to her, even wrong.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was still here…” Richard Semco stood in the doorway, embarrassed. Alerted by what he had apparently thought of as a light mistakenly left on,  he had opened the door unannounced.

“It’s alright, Richard,” Carol said, placing an empty folder on top of her failing credit records. “I should’ve left hours ago, but it’s so easy to lose the track of time with all this.” She stirred in her chair uncomfortably, willing to leave the room just to get the nosy security chief out of there.

“The PR material looks great,” Richard pointed out, not noticing his boss’ eagerness to end their encounter. He picked up the very leaflet Carol had been examining and turned it clumsily around in his hands. “It’s a huge responsibility we are being entrusted with,” he said reverently. “I was just going over the insurance papers to make sure the centerpiece has been sufficiently covered.”

Carol had gotten up and fetched her overcoat. “Must be a hefty sum, am I right?” she asked in passing.

“Oh yes, the French have been very particular about it even though the chances of their precious necklace ending up being stolen are miniscule at best.” Playing with one of his coat buttons, Richard looked needlessly smug. “It would have to be one hell of a thief to get by all the precautions we have taken to secure the items on display.”

Carol smiled at Richard, but her sunny disposition was only skin-deep. “For the argument’s sake…” she started apprehensively, “what would happen if the empress’s jewels were to go missing while in our custody?”

Richard straightened his back as if to express his doubt of such a thing ever happening, but after a while he decided to humor his superior. “After a thorough investigation the insurance would pay the French the estimated value of the necklace and earrings… around five million dollars,” he elaborated. “Of course the real misfortune would be the irreparable damage to the cultural exchange between our countries,” he continued, channelling words that fit badly into his mouth.    

He must’ve heard someone else speaking on the matter , Carol guessed.

“So for me, it’s a question of professional pride…” Richard pontificated. “And certainly one for our fine institution to see to the safekeeping of irreplaceable treasures.” He went silent, exhausted by a sudden spurt of statements he had never been known to throw around.

“What if there is a malfunction in the safety system?” Carol inquired innocently, holding the door open for chief Semco.

“Dear Mrs. Aird,” Richard said, adopting a distinctly patronizing tone of voice. “It is a foolproof system, I have personally seen to it.” He refused to part with the leaflet as if it were the very opinion he was fighting for.

“Maybe the hypothetical thief is not a fool?” Carol laughed, pushing Richard out of her office once and for all. The joke was lost on him, and instead of replying, Richard acquiesced to look confused and stupefied. “Oh c’mon, Richard, I’m kidding,” Carol hastened to say. She couldn’t wait to get out.

The air in the gym was stuffy, saturated with a permanent stench of sweat that never really left the room. It didn’t bother Therese for she had gotten used to bleak training quarters. At least this space was all hers for four hours three times a week, thanks to Jimmy Three Fingers’ sleazeball of a cousin, Ned, who ran the place as a front for his shady businesses.

The silks had been rigged up in the ceiling according to Therese’s detailed instructions. She had insisted Ned make sure they wouldn’t yield at any circumstances, so an unusual experiment had been performed before Therese had tested them herself. The unsuspecting Baldo had been strung up by his feet for almost two hours before he had given up his self-imposed oath of silence to put an end to it.

Therese had done her climbs and drops for two hours, and now it was time for the endless stretching she rarely enjoyed. She opened up her hips, breathing deeply and focusing her mind on what she was about to do. She slowly rocked back and forth in a lunge position, her left leg extended behind her.

As Therese felt the stretch in her hips, she thought of Carol. The image of the woman she found beautiful and elegant became more defined the longer she held her pose. The dinner invitation she had blundered bothered her. Maybe she would’ve said no but at least I would know it for sure now , Therese mused before gradually descending into a full split on the rubber mat. What she would have exactly known eluded her though. The answer always seemed to hover right next to her conscious mind, but it never materialized into a straight-out need to find out what was really there .

The closer her pelvis came to touch the floor, the less Therese was able to not think of Carol.  She could feel the exertion, the pulse of her fearful heart right in her groin. Or was it fear at all? She was flexible but doing a split had never felt this hard.

Worried, Therese did a backbend to reassure herself. She took comfort in feeling the muscles in her back flex as they had always done. “Do another one only if your body appears open to the idea,” had her mother’s former trainer once advised her.

Open to the idea . The concept set Therese’s thoughts aflame, its connotations shooting out of her mind like Roman candles out of a platinum candelabra. She was ready to bend over backward to make Carol like her, to truly care for her. Like real people do in real life . And she was ready to do the same in return. The strange rigidity that affected her private parts didn’t have anything to do with stiff muscles although there was distinct stiffness to her whenever she thought of the woman she now worked for.

Dannie would have told her that she needed to get laid to quit being such a tight ass. Therese agreed. She did need it, but it was with Carol she wanted to have it happen. And it won’t be just sex either , she thought to herself. This epiphany she hadn’t seen coming, yet now as she dragged it out of the dark recess of her baffled brain it made perfect sense. I think, no...  I must be…

“I don’t think we’ve ever done it in that position.” Amused, Genevieve leaned against the door frame, watching Therese in a full-on spider pose.

“What are you doing here?” Therese asked, irritated by the less than welcome sight of her other boss.

“That’s not a way to greet a lover who hasn’t seen you in ages,” Genevieve demurred, her hips swinging from side to side as she approached Therese. “What a filthy hole,” she complained, pressing her nostrils shut with her manicured fingers. “Can you do that again in my place... say, in fifteen minutes? I’ll promise I’ll make it worth your while.” She winked at Therese, the tip of her tongue flicking out to touch her upper teeth.           

“Whatever it is you want to say, you can say it here,” Therese interrupted. She wasn’t in the mood for Genevieve’s lewd remarks let alone for her idea of afternoon delight.

The good cheer Genevieve had exuded evaporated dangerously quickly. Her mouth a mean streak of discontent, she placed her handbag on top of a vaulting horse that had seen better days. “Have you made your plans?” she asked coldly. “I assume you have everything figured out, done the calculations?” Glancing at the abandoned silks, Genevieve clearly didn’t expect anything else than an affirmation.

“I’ve done my homework,” Therese said matter-of-factly. “The European Sculpture and Decorative Arts department presents a challenge but not one that I can’t handle, rigging-wise that is.” She paused for a quick second. “It’s the other stuff that I need to take care of. The added security, namely the key…” The memory of how the practical pendant caressed Carol’s collarbone filled her mind.

“It’s your job to get the key,” Genevieve pointed out. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get close enough to snatch the damn thing away from her when the time comes.” She sounded impatient.

“The key can’t be ‘snatched’ away, you’ve told me so yourself! It will set off the alarm the moment it’s removed from her neck.” Genevieve’s attitude further aggravated Therese.   

“Sounds like you have a problem then,” Genevieve shot back without missing a beat. “No skin off my teeth!” Although Therese had apparently lost the precious emerald ring by accident, Genevieve had not forgotten it. It had been her ring for she had given it to Therese who should’ve known better. If there was one thing Genevieve truly hated, it was the occasional ‘unpredictability’ of her property. After all, Therese did belong to her just like all the riches she had accumulated over the years.

Dannie does what he is told and Abby knows her place, just like all the girls before Therese… why can’t she simply bend to my will?  The airs Therese kept putting on, the interplay of her indifference, sarcasm and aggressive desire baffled Genevieve to no end. Lately she had become aware of a faintly familiar pull somewhere deep inside her although she was far too afraid of recognizing it yet. Stemming out of the bleeding edge of her past, the undeniable attraction tasted of copper and rust.               

Dallas, 2 years ago

“Pack your bags.” Genevieve wasn’t kidding around. She had had plenty of time to think everything through in the airplane. When Abby had handed her the cell phone, Genevieve had braced herself for the worst. Is Therese dead? Abby’s desolate eyes had prepared her for the grim view of what had happened that fateful night in Kathleen Morra’s house.

Now she was standing in front of the petite brunette who appeared as unresponsive as stubborn. Dannie and Karl The Bull had moved Therese to her hotel after everything imperative had been taken care of. She had fought against it until Karl had knocked her unconscious and carried her over his shoulder to the waiting car.

“Pack. Your. Bags.” The repeated words seemed to have little or no effect.

“Is that the best you can do?” Therese’s contemptuous reply made a shiver run through Genevieve. The image of Therese pushing the old woman off the balcony in one cold, calculated move flashed against the canvas of her mind. She had never before thought of Therese as violent, yet now it was all she could think about. The gust of emotion it produced was both disturbing and oddly alluring.

“Why don’t you smack me around a bit and see where it’ll get you?” Therese taunted Genevieve. “Give me a piece of that good old fashioned Karen Wright routine…” She was asking for it, pushing Genevieve to lose both her temper and control.

It was then when the balance shifted for the first time. For Genevieve, it spelled a sudden lose-lose situation although she wasn’t fully aware of it. The side of her right hand tingled, its skin warmed up and reddish. This had the earmarks of all those moments when she had physically disciplined her girls, even Therese at one time. Spare the rod and spoil the child , her father had chanted before making sure his daughter would not be among the tarnished ones.  

“Pull yourself together and return to New York,” Genevieve spoke instead. “There’s something you need to take care of.” She was dodging Therese’s dare, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“I don’t need to take care of shit,” Therese mumbled, barely hiding her surprise at Genevieve’s cool demeanor.

“You’ll do one more gig, and then you’re free to fuck up your life any way you want,” Genevieve stated. It was more than what she had meant to say, and she regretted her choice of words immediately. I’ll deal with it later , she mused. Right now it was important to get Therese moving, no matter how many lies she had to tell her in order to make it happen.               

The flamingo clip lay on the bed next to Therese. Genevieve grabbed it not even stopping to take a closer look at it. “Make sure she’s on the next plane to JFK,” she ordered Karl. “I don’t care how you’ll do it as long as you’ll make it happen.”

“Fine.” Therese saw no point in prolonging the conversation. Instead she did a smooth backbend that was immediately topped off with an impressive chin stand. Her arms securely on the ground, Therese raised her legs off the ground until they were back behind her. “I’m not going to tie myself in knots over this.” A solution will present itself .  

It was impossible to talk to Therese when she was showing off, occurred to Genevieve who was unable to avert her eyes from the athletic frame on triumphant display. Leaving without trying would have felt like a failure though, she decided. “Why don’t you come over on Saturday?” Genevieve suggested. It was an olive branch of sorts. “I’ll ask Michelle to whip up something special and we’ll have a nice evening.” She misinterpreted Therese’s abrupt discomfort. “Or let’s make it a whole leisurely weekend. Just the two of us.”

Such a generous invitation to Genevieve’s mansion was enough to make Therese roll her eyes but she managed to keep her feelings to herself. There had been a time when she would have jumped at the chance of spending two days and two nights with Genevieve in her actual home, away from the oppressive reality of the dormitory that had never had the feel of a real place.

Therese thought of Carol, of how much enjoyment she derived from the mere idea of spending time with her. Every working day she had had the privilege of sharing with Carol had flown by in what had felt like only a matter of minutes. Every word from her lips is an incantation that melts hours into seconds, into pitiful atoms of time that only know how to scurry around or run away from me .

With Genevieve, Therese wouldn’t know how to get by entire mornings, afternoons, evenings or nights. The one diversion they occasionally did enjoy together would probably get tiresome before lunch, she thought, especially if they were trying to be nice to each other.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Therese said. “I have other plans.” Seeing the disappointment on Genevieve’s face, she hastened to soften her rebuff. “Plans that will make sure you’ll get what you want…” Therese held Genevieve’s gaze. “And I’ll get what I want.” In her mind’s eye, she saw Carol at the restaurant table (or was it next to the coat check?) looking more inviting than ever, wanting Therese to kiss her on the mouth, on her neck, to slide a hand under her top… The instant fantasy invoked everything dormant in her as if a travelling circus had miraculously set up its tent on an empty town square without anyone noticing.             

“Another time then,” Genevieve commented on her way out, startling Therese out of her unnecessarily detailed mirage. “Keep me posted.”

Therese was ready to go before Dannie had even taken a shower. “Do I have to?” he appealed to her, hoping there could still be a way for him to skip the dinner with the Airds. “I’m no good in chitchat, T. I don’t know how to make conversation with fancy folks let alone understand what they’re saying at times.” He appeared genuinely distressed, but Therese wasn’t going to have any of it. Had Dannie kept his vocal anguish at minimum during the past week, Therese might have been more sympathetic to his plight. Now it was just the case of Therese having reached her saturation point with his constant whining.

“Not another word. You’re going and that’s final.” Ignoring Dannie’s mute martyrdom, Therese glanced at herself in the mirror. I look damn good even if I say it myself . “Besides, it will be mostly me and Mrs. Aird talking. Can’t really imagine Mr. Aird striking up a conversation with you,” she snorted, handing him a towel. “Chop-chop! We don’t want to be impolitely late.”

A Lyft driver dropped them off in front of Sine Causa an hour later. “What the fuck is this place?” Dannie asked Therese once they had entered the dark foyer of the restaurant neither one of them had visited before.  

“This is what’s hot right now...” Therese said slowly, her suspicious eyes scanning the dungeon-like space. She couldn’t recall who had recommended the place for her. “Belivet, table for four. I have...” Therese had started talking to the maître d’ before she had actually seen him, and now that she did, the simple statement died down without a proper finish. The man was wearing a black hood over his head with only his eyes visible through two holes in the fabric.

“Welcome to Sine Causa . Your friends have already arrived and been seated.” The man who was quick to introduce himself as the establishment’s ‘head executioner’ rather than its maître d’ appeared significantly more ingratiating than what Therese was able to make of the restaurant’s rough-hewn interior.

When they finally reached their assigned table, Therese was in for another unpleasant surprise. Carol and Harge weren’t alone, they were with ‘Martha’.

Eating in a place like this would have presented Mr. Aird with insurmountable difficulties and thus spoiled the evening for the rest of them, had she not accompanied her patient tonight, Abby explained with a gracious smile. Carol acquiesced to look inexplicably apologetic.    

Drowning her incipient anger in a Spanish Inquisition,  the restaurant’s signature cocktail, Therese let her sight wander over the various grim contraptions attached to the walls of the cavernous dining hall.

We’re in for a torture.