There, in that lively, boisterous atmosphere, a subtle love triangle was unfolding. It was a bizarre game of seduction, with one player skilled, another sincere, and the third clueless.
Keith was growing on May more and more every day, and she found herself quietly watching everything he did and listening carefully every time he spoke. She made sure to be in the right place at the right time to lend him a helping hand. Their short exchanges, between his hammering and her vigorous painting, made it clear to May that Keith’s mind was just as appealing as his body. Meanwhile, Keith’s eyes would always drift back toward Sally-Anne, who was intentionally keeping him at arm’s length. May eventually began to believe that Keith might be helping out just for the chance to get close to Sally-Anne again, but she kept her suspicions to herself.
One month in, the game changed again when Keith started to pick up on Sally-Anne’s strategy. He decided to ask May out for dinner, taking her to an Indian restaurant on Cold Spring Lane. That he would choose such an exotic cuisine came as a surprise to his date. At the end of the meal, Keith suggested he accompany May back to the warehouse so he could put a second coat of varnish on the main door.
“That way, I can let it dry overnight and jump right to the next step first thing tomorrow,” he explained.
May once more thanked Keith for everything he had done for them. Did I do it for them . . . or for her? he thought to himself as he grabbed his car keys and led May out to his pickup.
“Feel free to put on some music if you want,” Keith said as they cruised along.
May reached out to turn on the radio, slyly hiking her skirt halfway up her thigh in the process. Her milky skin, impossibly smooth and peppered with freckles, came in and out of view with the light of every streetlamp they drove past, drawing Keith’s gaze every time without fail. It wasn’t long before his hand followed suit.
May felt a rush of electricity from his touch, like heat was radiating straight from his palm. After they parked, Keith let May lead the way up the warehouse stairs, his desire growing with each step of the steep climb.
May entered the warehouse and called out Sally-Anne’s name, secretly hoping she would be out. She could just picture Sally-Anne at some random bar on the other side of town, surrounded by young men undressing her with their eyes, or young women who either loved her or hated her, or both.
As soon as they were sure the coast was clear, Keith made a move straight for May. She backed up coyly and pressed herself against the window with a come-hither smile. Keith pursued, running a hand through May’s hair and closing in for a passionate kiss. She had been envisioning this moment for weeks, yet it was more tender and less frenzied than she had imagined. The nape of Keith’s neck smelled of wood and turpentine. His hands sent chills down her spine. He explored every last inch of her face, and May nibbled softly at his pioneering fingertips. Keith pulled her to him by the waist and opened her blouse, kissing her breasts as she unbuttoned her jeans. She could feel him pressing against her, leaving no doubt in her mind: Keith was all hers.
May knew she was cheating on Sally-Anne for the first time, but Sally-Anne’s grab-it-while-it’s-there approach to life seemed to allow room for Keith and others. In any case, she was helpless to resist. Meanwhile, at that very moment, Sally-Anne was sitting outside the warehouse on her motorcycle, calmly watching the window with May’s bare back pressed against it. Sally-Anne didn’t avert her eyes once, watching every movement, gazing at the small of May’s back as it curved each time Keith thrust. That particular dance was quite familiar to Sally-Anne, having experienced it firsthand herself. She could still recall how Keith felt inside her and the salty tang of his skin.
“Go ahead and enjoy, darling. Don’t hold back, you’re not doing anything wrong. He’s my gift to you. I just hope you don’t mind if I borrow him back from time to time, when the mood strikes me.”
With that, Sally-Anne started up the Triumph. She zoomed away with her helmet off, wind blasting through her hair, in search of some company somewhere out in that dark night.
By mid-August, the lion’s share of the work was complete, and it was clear that Sally-Anne’s bet had paid off. The warehouse may not have been as good as new, like she had promised, but at the very least it had been given “one hell of a face-lift,” as Keith put it. The new look clearly pleased May and Sally-Anne, who leapt on Keith and showered him with kisses.