Conflict of Interest

Chapter Twenty Six

Carrie

I often felt as though I needed a slogan. "Caroline Everett: Second rate girlfriend, first rate seductress." "Date Carrie: She'll make you feel like shit, but the sex is fantastic."

It wasn't that I was a hedonist, or a habitual debauchee. In fact, that was pretty far from the truth. I wasn't someone like Kim, or at least the ghost of Kim, who went around inveigling women into doing her all the time, just for kicks. That wasn't me. I just wanted to have sex a healthy amount, and the one person with whom I was interested in doing so, needed some convincing.

I didn't know why she was so down on me that night, or why she'd overreacted the way she had. And I'd have been lying, frankly, to have ever said that Jennifer's criticisms didn't get to me once in a while. But more often than not, it just frustrated me that she couldn't see how lucky she actually was. What's the problem, Jennifer? I'm not clingy enough? Are my breasts too big? Is the sex too good?

I realized, of course, that by fuming over it, I wasn't getting anywhere, and like she couldn't change my apathy, I couldn't change her tendency to complain about me. I could merely ignore it, and so I did, temporarily.

It was funny how she could protest all she wanted, but the second we ended up in bed together she would forget her objections altogether. Suddenly it wasn't "Stop doing that," but "Don't stop," and "Your seduction isn't working anymore," turned into a full-on Yes-Carrie-like-that-right-there-fuck-yes series of events. It was like the only place I could get her to approve of me was in the bedroom. I knew she loved me because she'd told me so, and she just didn't say things she didn't mean. But sometimes I wondered how you can say you love someone if you can't accept who that person is for what she is.

These were all the tangential musings that were going on in the back of my mind that night as I attempted on many levels to get laid. Even when I got her to acquiesce, however, I was questioning why I'd even had to work that hard. And even when we were both fully into it, and things were just getting good, my phone rang.

"Leave it," she exhaled.

"I can't," I reminded her. "Work."

"I thought it was your night off."

"This is true," I considered, standing up to get it and watching her face change from ecstasy to frustration to looking like someone had just shut off her Ferris wheel when she'd almost reached the top. "But it could be an emergency, or it could be my intern calling to tell me she's burned down my office..."

I sighed when I read the Caller ID. "Or it could be Bagley..." I muttered. For some reason, if there was one person who you didn't want interrupting your quasi-romantic evenings, it was him.

"Bagley?" she complained. "Hang up on him."

"I can't," I said again. "We still don't know what happened with Saenz."

"If he's just calling to say hello, Carrie, I swear..."

"Hey," I whispered picking up my phone to call him back, before sliding back in next to her and strategically placing kisses to keep her interested. "We'll finish what we started, okay?"

"We'd better."

Bagley answered on the first ring, which led me to believe it was a pressing matter, even though I didn't treat it with a proportional amount of urgency.

"Are you busy?"

"Kind of," I said, redirecting my attention to a frustrated and impatient Jennifer.

"Well can you make it down here?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Saenz invoked his right to counsel three hours ago. Legal aid was backed up, the lawyer didn't get here until an hour ago, and now he wants a deal."