Swap With Me

Chapter Seventeen. Boston Friday

'Do you think it's the American way?' asked Emily.

Scott had no idea what she was talking about. He scrunched his eyebrows and put his arm around her shoulders. 'What?'

'Faye.'

They had talked over lunch about Emily's morning with Faye. 'Oh, I see.' He admitted to himself that he didn't really see at all; the view had been of a ship in dock; now it was about Faye.

'You're meant to keep up with my changing thoughts.' She giggled and twisted her body more into Scott's.

'Ask me again,' said Scott.

'Faye phoned me to introduce herself, to break the ice before we meet them for dinner. She didn't have to. But it sure helped and I like her.' She looked up at Scott. 

He loved the way her eyes blinked, as if she was reasserting her importance by the deliberate blink. She said, 'do you think wives of important people do that, here, in America?'

'I think the wife or partner is often the power behind the throne. And she can help with the socialising.'

'Not certain I could do that.' Emily paused. 'Don't have enough confidence.'

'You can opt out. Some women like socialising, fund raising and promoting their partners.' Scott didn't want Emily to be put off the idea of living in Boston. 'Besides, I'm a small fish in a big pond, so it doesn't matter.'

'Yup, but you know the importance of getting on with the right people.'

'You would be a wow in Boston, Emily. Trust me.'

-O-

Emily didn't feel nervous at meeting the Chief Surgeon. His wife, Faye, had made it easy for her to relax by spending the morning together. And the black trouser suit, which Faye had helped to choose, was perfect for the occasion. They sat at their round table with Faye opposite her.

Bill was an excellent host and asked Emily all about her background, and life at Oxford University, and what she did for a job.

'I used to work for a Government Department,' said Emily, who didn't want to say which department, just in case Bill carried out some checks on the reason she had left her job. She knew this was extremely unlikely, but wanted to play safe.

'Why did you leave? asked Bill. 'Did you get bored?'

Her quick brain measured the options. She could lie, yeah I got bored, but that didn't sound like an ambitious girl in support of Scott. Or she could come right out with it, yup, I decided to hack into their computer systems, which would be a disaster. The other three people at the table had fallen silent. Waiting for her reply.

'You want the truth, Bill?' 

Faye injected, 'you don't have to say anything, Emily. It's your affair.'

It occurred to Emily that if she left it hanging, it actually might trigger an enquiry from the HR people at Mass General.

'The truth, Bill, is this. My boss thought he could demand his way into my knickers, so I told him to F off.'

There was five seconds of silence before Faye said, 'good for you lady and I would have done the same.'

Bill learnt back in his chair. 'Well I'll be damned. So he fired you. I hope you're going to sue the pants off him.'

Faye laughed, 'wrong words, Bill.'

It lightened the atmosphere and they all laughed. Emily hadn't realised she could act like actors do on stage. When she had used the word knickers, she had put her fingers up to her mouth, as if she felt embarrassed at using this word at the table. Her act of discomfit had caused a rush of sympathy from Bill and Faye. 

Emily realised how good Faye's advice had been over the choice of dress to wear. Had she worn the shimmering, sexy cocktail dress, her story may not have received the same sympathy. Faye had been right to persuade Emily to dress conservatively. Emily looked at Faye, who nodded in understanding, but it was impossible to see how much Faye guessed. After all, Faye had a daughter of the same age, twenty-two, and would know how girls can dress inappropriately.

Bill was pleased. 'Hey, Scott, you got one hell of a woman here. She's a real asset to you.'

-O-

Scott did his best to stay awake. They sat on their bed, against the stack of pillows propped up to the bed head. The TV news droned on. The busy day had tired Scott; his morning at Mass General, the sight seeing and then the dinner; had all contributed to Scott's drowsy feeling. His position didn't help. Leaning against Emily, with her fingers in his hair, seemed to relax him even more.

He said, 'you were great tonight, Emily. They liked you a lot.'

'They're nice.'

'As we were leaving, Bill whispered that I had got the job.' 

He felt Emily kiss the back of his neck. 'Well done.'

'Please join me in Boston. To live with me. Can't do it without you.'

'Okay.'

That was a beautiful word for Scott. Her agreement was everything.

'One favour,' said Emily. 'For me to fly back to London once a month to see my friends. They're important to me.'

'Of course. I'll pay. It's no problem.' Scott could feel himself de-stress as Emily massaged his scalp. 'Tell your friends to come over and stay with us anytime.'

Emily didn't answer for ten seconds, as if she was considering that option. She said, 'Unlikely, to be honest. We girls get our fun in London.'

Scott felt happy.

She breathed into his ear, 'would you like a quickie or full blown sex?'

Ordinarily, he would have jumped at the invitation, but his body felt exhausted. 'Out of interest, full blown sex means what?'

'It means I masturb&te you first. Then you take your time over me.'

The idea didn't seem so strange to Scott any more. 'And a quickie is what?'

'You f*ck me now.'

'But that means you wouldn't be ready, you probably wouldn't come.' 

'Which is okay.'

'I don't understand why you would want to do that.' Scott knew he didn't have much idea of what went on in her female head.

'When a woman makes love, she will sometimes not come, but most don't complain. They get their pleasure in feeling their husband is satisfied. It's like you feed your husband a steak, because he loves it, but you don't necessarily eat one yourself.'

'But you, Emily, complain about sex if you don't get satisfied. You want it your way. In fact you want your clim&x first, before mine.'

'Yup. But sometimes I might suggest you do it your way, to keep you satisfied.' Emily giggled and kissed the back of his neck. 

'I don't understand women.' 

'You have a good bedside manner. As a doctor, you inspire confidence and the female patients love it.'

'Doesn't mean I understand what they really think.' Scott began to wonder about the depth of female thinking. It seemed to him that women had a deeper level of thought, a multi-layer of feelings. Whereas, men had one layer of thought, one at a time, often on the surface, and recognised by wives.

Emily said, 'I suppose, as a woman, I recognise that I want to be looked after, cared for, cherished . . .'

'So, you're willing to put up with a bonk which doesn't necessarily give you a clim&x.'

'Yes. Some of the time. But when we properly make love, I want it good. And good means you look after moi.'

It was Emily's way, he decided, and why not. She took longer to get fully ready, he understood that now. 

He said, 'so, to stop me coming too quickly, you make sure I release an hour or two before.'

'Yes. Either I do it for you, or I watch you do it.'