Mistress of the Game
I hate you.
Max came, screaming his mother’s name.
Unable to see his face, Lexi couldn’t hear him.
Lexi’s affair with Max was like a child’s secret treasure: too precious to be shown to others. When Lexi was a little girl, she’d had a beautiful antique box that she used to fill with special “nature things”-a bird’s egg that had fallen from a nest and landed, unbroken, on the lawn at Dark Harbor; a rabbit’s skull with bones worn so white that they glowed in the dark. If she could, she would have hidden Max’s love in that box. Taken it out at night when she was alone, like the rabbit’s skull, and gazed at it in wonder. The fact that no one at work knew they were together only added to the thrill of the relationship.
Max said: “We’re cousins. And colleagues. People wouldn’t understand.”
Lexi agreed. One day soon, she would be Max’s boss. Everyone’s boss. Discretion at Kruger-Brent was vital.
“People” would have understood even less had they been flies on the wall observing Max and Lexi’s love life. Since losing her virginity at sixteen, Lexi had been on a sexual mission, determined not to let her childhood abuse blunt her adult libido. She’d been so busy proving her sexuality, so busy showing lover after lover how much she enjoyed sex and how in control she was, she’d never stopped to figure out what it was that she actually wanted.
Max was the answer to all the questions Lexi had never asked. Not only did his sex drive match her own, but he made love with a violent desperation that left her breathless and begging for more. She never imagined she could enjoy being dominated in bed. In life, in the boardroom, she was Mistress of the Game. But Max opened the door to another side of her psyche. The games were gentle at first: he held her hands down on the bed or lightly tapped her butt during sex. But as Lexi’s responses intensified, Max pushed further and further into full-blown S &M-sodomy, bondage, humiliation-nothing was off-limits. Lexi felt liberated. At home, in bed with Max, she could throw off the armor that she wore all day at Kruger-Brent, the same armor she’d worn at business school and with the media, the same armor she’d been wearing all her life. The armor that said: Yes, I’m deaf and I’m a woman. But don’t think you can fuck with me. With Max, she could finally be herself. Real, vulnerable, unguarded.
It was the best feeling in the world.
The only downside to the relationship was that they didn’t spend enough time together. Lexi, especially, still had an insane travel schedule. And Max was up to his neck in Kruger-Brent politics at home.
Max told her, “It’ll be better when you’re chairman. You’ll be in New York more. We’ll have control over our own schedules.”
Lexi could hardly wait.
Eve asked Max: “Have you found anything yet? There must be something you can use against her.”
“Not yet, Mother. I’m working on it.”
“Well, work faster. You’re wasting too much time screwing her, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. You’re too busy enjoying yourself to remember who Lexi is. She’s your enemy, Max. She’s trying to steal from us. Time is running out.”
“I know.” Max hated disappointing his mother. He was also afraid Eve might be right. Sometimes, when Lexi screamed and writhed and moaned beneath him, he could almost believe that he did love her. That he’d forgotten why he had seduced her in the first place. Forgotten that this was all a game. A game in which the winner got to keep the greatest prize of all: Kruger-Brent.
Eve reminded him in no uncertain terms.
“You know what to do, Max. Fuck her. Fool her. Finish her.”
Max nodded grimly.
He knew what to do.
Lexi lay back and tried to slow her breathing.
Dr. Cheung said: “Don’t be nervous. Think of it as a flu shot.”
Right. A flu shot that might give me back my hearing.
Lexi never imagined that hope could be so painful. Ever since Max told her about Dr. Cheung and the pioneering work he was doing with gene therapy, she’d been unable to sleep. It was like meeting a psychic who claimed to be able to contact your lost loved ones from beyond the grave. You want to believe it. But to do so means ripping open old wounds. Lexi had long since accepted the fact that she would never hear again.
Then Max casually passed her the New Scientist over breakfast one morning and blew her world apart.
“Look at this. Some guy in China’s found a gene that makes deaf guinea pigs get their hearing back.”
Lexi read the piece. The gene was called Math1. Dr. Cheung had developed a genetically engineered adenovirus containing the gene and injected it into the cochlea of deaf guinea pigs. Incredibly, the hair cells of the animal’s inner ear had begun to regrow. Eighty percent of the sample recovered full hearing in a matter of weeks.
She passed the magazine back to Max. “He’s never tried it on humans. Scientists are always coming up with these so-called breakthroughs. It won’t work.”
“Says here he started human trials last month. Aren’t you even curious to meet him?”
“No.”
“He comes to New York regularly.”
“I said no, Max, okay? I don’t have time to meet with some Chinese whack job.”
Lexi pressed a Band-Aid onto her arm. “How long does it take? To feel the effects?”
“It depends. I’ve had patients start hair regrowth almost immediately. For others, it can be weeks, or even months. You may need a second shot. Can you check back with me in two weeks?”