Southern Comfort Ch. 01

I decided right then I really liked Jon. He seemed to genuinely appreciate my humor, and my personal disregard for propriety. I couldn't help but give him a smile that said I relished having gotten the upper hand in the challenge Ivan had issued.

Ivan's ego was bruised considerably, but he recovered quickly, and he continued his harassment of me. He continuously raised the subject of Roger until I turned on him. I don't think he considered the consequences of continually poking me with that stick.

"Ivan, do you mind if I ask who writes your paycheck?" I asked sweetly. Dangling the right bait almost always guarantees a fish will bite eventually.

"Why do you want to know?" he countered.

"I just want to know. You're here every fucking time I walk through the door, day or night. I want to know who is paying you to aggravate the living hell out of me. Was it Linda?" I demanded with both hands on my hips.

Jon snorted under his breath. "Linda is a bitch. I don't like her."

"I'm glad we agree," I snapped at him, and quickly turned my attention back to Ivan.

"Do you really want to know what I do for a living?" Ivan asked. I deliberately ignored him waiting for the appropriate time to set the hook. "I'm an investment broker," he said proudly.

"Uh-huh!" I retorted with sarcasm. "Those little old ladies invest their money in you, and they get broker by the minute!"

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Ivan glared at me. Jon coughed nervously and cast me a look of warning. I would rather have died than pass up the opportunity to knock Ivan down a peg or two.

"You're not too bright, are you?" I taunted. I was fully armed with razor sharp barbs. "I continue having to repeat everything I say so you can understand it. Usually it's the blonde whores who have a reputation for being stupid. But, I can see the standard rule doesn't apply with you."

Ivan turned pale. "What did you just say?" he demanded. I could see he was livid by the white ring that appeared around his tight lips and the red blush that came to his puffed out cheeks. I had drawn blood with my words, and I decided to thrust the blade in much deeper. As a woman, I could be quite ruthless.

"Come on, Ivan. Don't get mad. You're a whore! Plain and simple," I said evenly.

"I'm an investment broker!" he nearly shouted at me.

"Tomato, To-mahto! Call it what you like," I said waving my hand nonchalantly at him. "It's all the same thing. You're a man-whore."

Ivan hissed between gritted teeth. He clenched his fist at his side, and he glared back at me. Then, he took a step in my direction.

"Break it up, you two!" Jon warned us both, quickly placing himself in Ivan's path.

"Oh, don't stop me now. I'm just getting started!" I argued loudly, stepping in Ivan's direction to meet his threatening posture.

"Nope! You're done now!" Jon declared. Before I realized it, he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground. I might have struggled more, if I had thought it would do any good.

He carried me through the service door entrance and deposited me on my feet in the entry foyer. He pushed my back against the wall and placed his forearm across my chest to hold me firmly in place. He studied me for a moment and surprisingly, he began to chuckle.

"Do me a favor and don't fuck with my friend in there, please? He has a nasty temper and not enough good sense or manners not to smack the shit out of you," he said. His eyes were dancing with amusement, but he did seem seriously concerned about the potential outcome of the confrontation I had provoked.

"Not but once, he won't!" I argued, struggling to free myself and return to the fight. I'd had the unpleasant experience once of being struck by my ex-husband. I'd made my mind up then there would never be a second time. I might go down, but I would go down fighting.

Jon held my back against the wall, blocking my attempt to escape. "Not but once," he agreed. "Then, I'd have to kick his ass for putting his hands on you." He was still smiling and there was a vague look of admiration in his eyes.

I stared up into those deep brown eyes and momentarily became quiet. He had my complete and undivided attention.

"You're a little hellcat, aren't you?" he said with a laugh. "I tried to tell him not to make you bring out those claws of yours, but he wouldn't listen." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Pull those claws in, girl. Nobody is looking for a fight tonight." There it was again, pure honey.

"He is!" I insisted. "He started it. I just intend to finish it," I said with conviction.

Jon shook his head. "You bruised his ego a little bit. How did you know, by the way?" he asked, cocking his head at me with curiosity. "Usually he says 'investment broker' and people just nod. How did you know?"

"Lucky fucking guess!" I snarled sullenly at him.

"Alright. Have it your way. But, don't go back in there and start anymore trouble, okay?" he asked. "And, would you do me another big favor?"

"I won't tell anybody," I assured him. "Not for him, but, as a favor to you," I added quickly, still pouting at him.

"No. I didn't think you would tell anyone. But, that isn't the favor I need," he said.

"What is it?" I asked dully.

"I have to go, and Ivan's had too much to drink already. Could you make sure he gets home okay for me?" he asked.

I could hardly believe my ears. "When hell fucking freezes over!" I spat. I pushed at his arm again, trying to move him out of my way.

He used one hand to press me back against the wall and hold me there again. "Aw, come on, now! He's my friend. He just lives in the complex behind here. So do I," he said.

"Then, you can take him home!" I snapped at him.

"I can't. Not tonight. Just do it for me this one time, please?" he pleaded. It was as if he wove some magic spell with those eyes, and I couldn't say no.

I sighed reluctantly and relaxed somewhat. "Oh, alright! But, you go back in there and tell him to knock off his crap!"

"I will," he assured me with a nod and a smile of satisfaction. "Thanks, Cindy. I won't forget this," he said quietly. Then, he let me go. He gave me another smile, ran his thumb across my cheek, and returned to the bar.

Jon had a private word with Ivan while I straightened my clothes, composed myself, and returned to the bar. I avoided any further contact with Ivan for the moment.

Jon approached me on his way out the door and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. I told the jackass you are going to give him a ride. He wasn't too happy about it, but he'll be polite. You behave yourself now, okay?" he cautioned. I nodded.

Later that night, I loaded a very drunk Ivan the Hoe into my car and drove him home. It was only two blocks to his apartment. I had my hands full getting him out of the car and inside. I deposited him on the bed and removed all his clothes. It took nearly a full fifteen minutes to accomplish that minor task. He was a big man and not easy to manage without any help. I kept reminding myself, I was doing it as favor to Jon.

I rummaged through the bathroom medicine cabinet and found a bottle of aspirin. I poked two in his mouth and held a glass of water to his lips. "Swallow it, Ivan!" I demanded. He did as I commanded, muttering under his breath. I pushed him back on the bed, pulled a comforter over him, and I left. He was snoring loudly when I locked the door behind me.

The next day, during the lunch rush, an older woman entered the bar and took a seat at a table near the door. I had seen her several times on Ivan's arm. I was well aware of their story. I went over to take her order. She looked up at me and said, "So, you're the little bitch he's fucking!"

"Excuse me?" I asked taken aback.

"Ivan. You're fucking Ivan. I'm Estelle, his girlfriend," she declared bluntly.

"I know who you are. I've seen you two together, but I'm not sleeping with Ivan," I said firmly.

She looked doubtful. "Don't bother to deny it, young lady. I saw you last night," she said. "You took him home."

"I did. I took him home because Jon asked me to. I put him in bed. I even undressed him and gave him two aspirins, but that was as far as it went. I don't like your boyfriend, Estelle. I tolerate him because I like Jon," I said. "Didn't you hang around long enough to see me leave about twenty minutes later?" I asked.

She shook her head. I could see tears forming in her eyes. I looked around and pulled out a chair, sitting down across from her.

"Look, Estelle, I'm not fucking Ivan. Not for free, or for money," I whispered in a low voice. She looked shocked, but I went on. "Look, I know what's going on. You support him financially, and in exchange, he is supposed to keep you happy. Only Ivan isn't holding up his end of the bargain, is he? If he was, you wouldn't be here right now."

"Did he tell you that?" she asked with surprise.

I shook my head at her. "He didn't have to. Besides, if he had told me, that would be a deal breaker, wouldn't it?" I asked. She nodded and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

"He's cheating," she said flatly.

"Probably. But, not with me. Why don't you just leave him?" I asked.

"I love him," she said with a small sob. She looked rather old and tired. The make-up that streaked her face emphasized the wrinkles and it made me a little sympathetic to her. I snorted at her declaration of love for Ivan.

Estelle was an oil wife. She wasn't the usual oil-field trash wife. She was the typical oil-field tycoon wife and Ivan was her boy-toy. She paid for his sex and mainly for his discretion.

"A woman like you? You don't love him. You just need someone around who looks good and makes you feel good. You don't need someone who either can't, or won't, hold up their end of the deal, though. Sit him down and tell him how it is, Estelle. Either he complies, or he goes! Don't put up with his crap! You don't have to. There are other fish in the sea," I told her.

"What's your name, honey?" she asked as she dabbed a tissue to her nose. She sounded exactly like Ivan had when asking me my name the first time, but the difference was that Estelle seemed genuinely contrite at having made her original accusation.

"I'm Cindy, and I'm married, Estelle. My husband's name is Roger. He isn't hard to find. I wouldn't tell you that if I was sleeping with Ivan," I assured her.

She nodded and reached out to give my hand a squeeze. "You've given me something to think about, Cindy. And, for whatever it's worth, I do believe you. You aren't the one he's cheating with. Please, don't tell Ivan I came in here to talk to you," she pleaded.

"You have my word on it. Now, go fix your makeup, Miss Estelle. The ladies' room is across the hall," I said nodding towards it.

"Thanks, Cindy," she said with a weak smile. I watched her go and then, went back to my work.

Later, Ivan came in. He walked straight up to me. "You talked to Estelle?" he asked.

I reasoned she must have told him what I said. I nodded. I was prepared for the worst. I expected him to go off on me for having talked to her. Instead, he was perfectly calm.

"She said you gave her some good advice. She and I just broke it off," he said. I guess I looked shocked that she had taken my advice so quickly. "Don't worry. I had been trying to find a way to break it off myself. You did me a favor in a way. She's happy now, and so am I. You might say I owe you one."

"Well, I knew you were trying to dump her, because I heard you telling Jon that last night. I wouldn't ordinarily have said anything to her, but she came in and accused me of sleeping with you," I said trying to explain my position.

Ivan nodded in understanding. He didn't seem angry in the least, so I decided to press my luck a little. "You owe me two. I took you home and put your ass in bed last night, or have you forgotten about that?" I said trying to sound sullen.

"Okay. I'm keeping track. I owe you two," Ivan agreed reluctantly. He was looking at me with some trepidation, but I could tell his attitude towards me had changed ever so slightly. He appeared to be cautiously accepting of me now. We even made polite conversation for the rest of the day. We managed to not only be civil towards one another, but to actually joke and play around a little, without Jon present to run interference.

Jon and Ivan began coming in everyday after that, usually together. Occasionally, I took Ivan home when he drank too much and Jon had to work the next day. But, I was careful never to leave any room for doubt about the fact I had no romantic interest in him whatsoever.

Jon remained somewhat aloof and reserved. It was as if he was watching me for some sort of sign. I watched him watching me, while he said nothing that could be construed as him being more than a casual acquaintance.

**********

Within three weeks, I broke off my arrangement with the guitarist. I had grown bored and I couldn't see that I was getting anything at all out of the relationship. I had also noticed that his gaze had begun to wander. Before it could turn into a nasty ending, I informed him that I was done with it.

My ego was slightly bruised, but I felt it was best to shake hands and part friends. I was seriously beginning to wonder why I couldn't seem to hold a man's attention for more than a month. I was jaded and I knew it showed.

Still, I was at least pretty enough to turn heads, and there was never a shortage of invitations to date someone, despite my having some of the stiffest competition in my co-workers that one could imagine. Most of them were what you might call 'drop-dead gorgeous'. New Orleans ladies are among the most beautiful and exotic in the world.

Sometimes, physical beauty just isn't enough, and at that point, I had lost my inner beauty. I had lost my confidence, and worse than that, I had lost any interest in doing much about it. I kept most men at arm's length. Distance equaled zero heartache. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

The world was closing in on me and I was suffocating. I was a wife in name only, and a marginal part-time mother at best.

My schooling had come to a screeching halt. While I had almost completed the two-year course in less than three months, there remained two classes for me to complete. It made it impossible to call myself a graduate. Shorthand and Ten Key stood in my way. I didn't have the patience to wrap my head around either.

My closest friend, Daniel, was away for months at a time, working in the Arabic Middle East. I was drowning in a pool of loneliness.

Ironically, the night I officially ended my affair, my older sister blew into town unannounced. Trish was 28 at the time and very attractive. She took after our dad. She had deep blue eyes and a round, angelic face. She was blessed with an admirable set of boobs that made me envious. But, mostly, she was everyone's darling; witty, charming, and sexually alluring to all men. I was never so happy to see her.

She listened to my rants about everything, and in the end, she convinced me that I should end my affair. She agreed it was pointless. We decided to hit the bar where I worked so I could deliver the news in person. We dressed, she in black, and I in red, but exact copies of one another. Except for the matching dresses, no one would know we were sisters. There was no physical resemblance between us.

Trish was taller than I was. I was more slender. She had shoulder-length golden brown hair. My hair was dark auburn and below my hips. She had blue bedroom eyes. Mine were deep green, cat-like eyes. She looked like a cherub. I slightly resembled a distant relative of Cher. In essence, no would suspect we were related.

She and I had been drinking all afternoon before we set out to the bar. When we entered, I downed three Long Island Iced Teas before I even began looking for a place to sit. Two more drinks, and I was ten-foot tall and bullet proof. I stalked the guitarist as he made his way to the men's room near the front foyer and delivered my farewell speech.

Immediately afterwards, I spotted my old friend Ivan the Hoe. Jon was conspicuously absent on that particular evening. I marched straight up to Ivan. "Ivan the Hoe!" I greeted him. He turned to face me with an unexpected grin. My knees gave way and he reached out to steady me.

"Whoa there! Cindy Lou!" he said. "What's up?"

"Ivan, I'm very drunk," I declared.

"I can see that," he nodded with mild amusement.

"I need a favor, Ivan. Time for you to pay up!" I said.

"What did you have in mind? Do you need a ride home?" he cordially inquired.

"Nope! My sister's here," I said.

"Really? Where?" he asked looking around. I pointed Trish out to him. "She's pretty," he said, looking in the direction of the table where she sat.

.

"Of course she is," I slurred at him. "And I promised to entertain her tonight."

Ivan cocked his head at me.

"You are her entertainment!" I said poking his chest as I nodded. "Now prepare to pay your debt, Ivan Hoe!"

Ivan looked somewhat stunned for a moment. "You're fucking serious, aren't you?" he asked, lowering his voice and glancing around.

"Deadly!" I replied.

"Okay. But, you're drunk. What if I can't get you off?" he asked in a whisper. Ivan seemed to think my agenda was to get him in bed with me rather than my sister.

"I don't even like you, Ivan. If I were sober, you still wouldn't get me off, buddy. Besides, I ain't worried about me. Just make her happy!" I said emphatically in my natural southern drawl.

"I'll do what I can," he shrugged.

"You'll do better than that!" I snorted. "You owe me!"

I made the introductions between the two of them and Ivan very gallantly used my car to drive the three of us the few short blocks to his place. Once in the car, I took careful aim on Ivan again.

"Hey, Sis! Did you know that Ivan here is a bonafide woman pleaser?" I goaded.

"Really? No shit?" she chuckled at me.

"Knock it off, Cindy," Ivan warned.

"No, seriously. He really is. He even has a pedigree and everything! He's an honest to goodness real, live workingman! Have you ever slept with a professional before?" I asked Trish.

"No, I can't say I have," she giggled.

"She's drunk! She doesn't know what she's talking about," Ivan snapped.

"Oh, I do so know what I'm talking about. He usually makes big bucks! But the asshole owes me a favor, so you get him tonight for free! Get my money's worth, okay?" I tried to deliberately antagonize Ivan.

Ivan parked the car, and as any gentleman would, he opened my door for me. He jerked me out of the back seat. I was laughing manically when he pulled me hard against his chest and warned under his breath, "Payback is a mother-fucker! I'll wait until you're sober, because I want to enjoy it." The look in his eyes told me that Ivan could be sadistically dangerous given the right circumstances.

Ivan was a big man, so he owned an over-sized bed that easily accommodated the three of us. The room started to spin almost the second I stretched out on it. I was still fully clothed, but Ivan and my sister shed their clothes immediately. There seemed to be several long moments of fumbling before Trish got around to giving Ivan head.

I could tell that he was enjoying her lips to at least some degree, but I couldn't see anything of great interest to me happening between them. Somehow, I had expected a threesome to be more exciting. Frankly, I was entirely bored.

Ivan made an attempt to kiss me and I turned my head away from him, denying his attempt. When my sister removed her mouth from his penis, I replaced it with my own. Ivan groaned loudly and tangled his fingers in my hair. Trish rearranged herself to watch for a moment. I stopped just short of making him cum in my mouth. I figured she could handle the finale.

By that point, I was suffering from a severe case of vertigo, caused, I'm sure, by near alcohol poisoning. I slid from the bed and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" I heard Ivan call in the dark.