Just One Night, Part 3: Binding Agreement Read Online Free Page A

he stands apart from the giant cinematic images of men wrecking havoc on fictional adversaries.
    “Yes,” Asha agrees. “He’s Robert Dade and I’d be a willing and eager player in his bedroom games. Not because I want his assistance but because I’d like to see if I could break him.”
    I laugh, almost charmed by her arrogance.
    “You don’t think I could?” She asks . . . although maybe it’s not a question. Her voice has no inflection. She turns back to me and shakes her head. “Your problem is that you have never fully understood the power of being a desired woman.”
    My mind flashes back to a night in Robert’s bed. I had climbed on top of him, refused him until he said, “Please.”
    Asha smiles, reading my mind. “Power between the sheets means nothing if you don’t learn to extend its reach outside of the bedroom.”
    I look away. The room seems to be getting colder. I rub the back of my arms for warmth.
    “You don’t have to believe me,” Asha continues. “It’s in the stories of your religion. Adam and Eve, Samson and Delilah, Salome and her dance of the Seven Veils: they all speak to the same undeniable truth. If a woman truly wants something, whether it’s having her man bite into an apple, bringing a divinely appointed superhero to his knees, or a Baptist’s head on a silver platter, she can have it. A woman can have anything if she knows how to use what God gave her.”
    I start to laugh, but then . . .
    If I give you the world on a platter, will you take it?
    A Baptist’s head on a platter. Is that really so different from what Robert is offering?
    Yes , I tell myself, because Tom is no John the Baptist and Asha is a far cry from a saint.
    Asha’s fallen silent, giving me time to try to see the stories of the gospel through this new lens.
    “If you knew how much power you have, you’d have courage,” she finally adds.
    Sometimes, when people name the thing you want, that thing gains texture. You can see it and therefore you’re sure you can have it if you just do or say exactly the right thing.
    That’s sort of how I feel when I hear Asha suggest I can be courageous. It’s what I want.
    But in a moment the image fades away. Melody and her love affair with destruction and divorce from sanity, my parents and their complete abandonment of her . . . I have nursed cowardice all my life, hoping it would protect me from all of that when nothing else would. It’s part of me now. I don’t know how to expel the beast.
    “I don’t have any interest in helping you keep your job,” I say, shifting my weight onto my heels, suddenly tired and resigned. “But I promise to do what I can to keep you from being fired over false pretenses. If you get thrown out of here, it’ll be your fault, not mine, and not Mr. Dade’s.”
    “You say that now—”
    “—and I’ll say it tomorrow.” I turn and pull open the door. “Good night, Asha. Go home and get some sleep.”
    “I’m not tired.”
    “Then go to the park and pull the wings off butterflies,” I say with a sardonic smile. “That seems like the kind of thing you would enjoy.”
    She smiles back, shakes her head. “Butterflies are too weak.”
    “Then shoot a coyote, whatever,” I suggest. “But your work day’s over. We all need our rest and if I’m going to be a dictator, I’m going to try to be a benevolent one.”
    As I walk out of her office I hear her gentle and appreciative laughter. For a split second I feel a jolt of camaraderie and forget that she’s the personification of evil.
    But no doubt she’ll remind me of that in the morning.
    As I step into the elevator I mull over her words. Your problem is that you have never fully understood the power of being a desired woman.
    That’s where she’s wrong. Robert made me feel that power. When we make love, I always feel protected, frequently overwhelmed, but I also feel the power I have over him. It’s an aphrodisiac that has become rather addictive.
    Power