Chapter 20
Standing in the blue and gray stall, Sue opened the faucets to their max and then stood with her palms against the cool tiles with her eyes shut under the wide showerhead. She felt the hot water needle into her hair, sighed as it cascaded down her face and neck, rushed down the tense curve of her spine and over the mounds of her breasts. It flooded through her cleavage and her butt cheeks and onto her toes and heels. She stood there under the steaming waterfall for a full two minutes. She didn’t feel the water cleansing her. It was as if the heated water had no effect on her skin; like every pore was sealed tight, allowing no sensation through the surface of her epidermis. For a moment she thought she’d engaged her invisibility shield and that the water was bouncing off a skin-tight wrap of unseen armor. But she knew she hadn’t.
Maybe if I soap up.
Sue gathered up a plastic bottle of body wash, squeezed a healthy dollop onto a wide natural sea sponge she’d purchased at Bed, Bath and Beyond. She squeezed the sponge with her right hand several times, working the lather into a frothy ball and began to scrub her left arm. She used gentle long strokes at first, washing the arm and her hands. But it still didn’t feel cleansing to her. She bore down and scrubbed harder with shorter strokes, bringing up a pinkish hue to her skin. She then worked the sponge on her abdomen and then up to her breasts, slightly gentler but without satisfaction. His hands had been on her breasts. Dante’s firm wide hands. They’d been all over her body. Sue scrubbed harder. She dumped more body wash into the sponge and went at her body like she was trying to clean off the smell of a skunk.
Everywhere she scrubbed the skin tingled brightly. But it still felt like her pores were locked tight, every one like a pistachio nut with no easy opening crack. She grimaced and scrubbed her knees and her wrists, the tops of her feet and between her thighs. Everywhere he touched her, had stroked her had to be dealt with, soaped and tended to. Every pore needed attention. She heard someone mewling, a pathetic childish whimpering and stopped scrubbing herself. She stood up straight and listened carefully. The crying had stopped. She wondered for a moment if someone has snuck into the apartment. Then she looked down at her skin. It was almost rubbed raw even by the softest of sponges. Sue suddenly realized it was her who had been choking out those frustrating whimpers. She shivered hard, her body quaking in the glass stall.
Gathering up every ounce of fortitude she had, Sue picked up the bottle of shampoo from the shower shelf and poured a tiny measured puddle into her palm. Every movement she made was slow and careful. She scrubbed her hair clean, thoroughly. Not like a madwoman. Just thoroughly, bringing up thick soapy billows that smelled reassuring. She breathed through her mouth as she bowed her head once again under the unending spray as she watched bubbling icebergs of foam calve off her body and rush down her breasts, her flat abs, her rounded thighs and graceful calves until they disappeared through the holes in the drain. When the foam was gone and only white rapids of water cascaded down her body, Sue calmly shut off the water, reached for towel and dried herself off, patting her tender skin gingerly and with a lot more love than she’d afforded herself earlier with the sponge.
Looking at the wide mirror over the luxurious double sink, Sue saw her lower lip tremble and sighed heavily, then quickly turned away from her very troubled face and headed into the bedroom. She needed to sleep, to recharge before she could even consider taking on Dante. She just wanted to collapse onto the world’s most comfortable bed and, most of all, not think! The clock on the night table read just 8:30 p.m. but Sue had been awake for more than 26 hours. Maybe more, she wasn’t sure. The exhaustion and the vodka were simply too much for her to deal with. There was still some late summer daylight coming through the windows but it wasn’t about to keep Sue awake. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
After Doctor Palmetto left his apartment, Dante Allamordo poured himself a generous measure of very expensive brandy in a crystal snifter and took a seat in a comfortable leather armchair. He sipped the liquor slowly, thinking.
Clearly, I underestimated Mrs. Richards anger at my training methods. But one learns from one’s errors or else there’s no science.
“I shall use that anger against her when she returns in her famous little getup. I will bait her so blatantly with the opportunity for revenge that she will follow my misdirection like a puppy dog,” Dante mused, slowly running his finger around the rim of the snifter. “Then I will repay her for this wound. We will see who will have the last touché, Invisible Woman.”
After swirling the brandy under his nose and savoring its bouquet, the twisted psychologist sipped it appreciatively and then set down his glass. Taking the cell phone from his suit pants, he brought up his contact list and chose Madame Minh’s burner phone number.
“Dante, I’ve been awaiting your call. I expected it two hours earlier or so,” Minh said, passing up the niceties with her hired expert.
“Things are progressing as planned with a minor misjudgment on my part.”
“That does not sound like your résumé. Nothing serious I hope?”
“She stabbed me in the shoulder just prior to her exit.”
“Poor thing!”
“I shall be fine.”
“I meant Richards,” Minh clucked. “You must have worn her to a frazzle. I thought you planned for her to stab you in the stomach.”
“I did and she did. It was the extra thrust in the shoulder I failed to anticipate.” Dante picked up the beautifully-rounded glass and took a full swallow of the brandy at that memory, unconsciously shifting his wounded shoulder.
“Your fee will not be increased,” Minh stated coolly.
“Perish the thought,” Dante replied dryly.
“She will be fully trained in time for my needs though, right?”
“I expect her to return tomorrow morning. Afternoon at the latest. You can see her here at 10 p.m. for an interim demonstration as discussed.”
“Excellent,” Minh approved.
“I will see you then.”
Dante ended the call. He knew how to keep his clients happy. Minh would be pleased to see how obediently her trained superheroine behaved. This next training session would cement all the previous sessions with the subject perfectly. Dante was a master despite this one rare misstep. After the demonstration with Minh, it would require only a few extra hours to hone her behaviors with some subtleties that wouldn’t unduly give her condition away. Then the heroine would be ready for Minh’s heist on the upcoming Sunday evening.
Idly twirling the stem of his crystal glass in his hand, Dante felt a mix of anticipation for the final training and sorrow that this assignment was coming to a close.
“Well, I shall just have to enjoy myself with the time remaining I have with Subject Sue,” he said, raising the glass in a mock of a toast and downing the remaining brandy in a satisfied gulp of the fiery liqueur.