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CASSIE
DESPITE THE FACT that Will and I had known each other for the better part of a decade and had seen
each other naked (at least three more times since that glorious afternoon, once at his place, once at
mine and again on that mattress before he hauled it to the trash when the new chairs arrived), the night
he came to fetch me for the S.E.C.R.E.T. event at Latrobe’s was, technically, our first date ever.
The weeks leading up to that fateful night were the happiest I’d ever had in my life. There was no
more hiding, no sneaking around. With Tracina away from the restaurant and off building a new life,
we were free to start ours, the restaurant turned into our discreet proving ground, a kiss here, an open
embrace there, a hot look around every corner. And I didn’t care that Dell rolled her eyes or Claire
was a little confused, too young to be a confidante but old enough to know some “heavy adult shit just
went down,” as I caught her saying to her friends over smokes in the back.
After he said yes to my invitation, I took Will to the Funky Monkey to buy his first tux and to see
Dauphine, so radiant with newfound love herself that it was like looking in a mirror. We kept our
overwhelming joy at seeing each other to a normal level in front of Will, saying only that our
acquaintance was the result of membership in this women’s group whose formal event we were both
attending.
He stood in front of a mirror in the changing area, handsome in his tux, as Dauphine pinned the hem
of his pants.
“I’m glad I kept this one,” she said. “It’s too big for Mark. Though I have a feeling even getting that
boy in a tux that fits him will be a lot harder than I expect.”
A week later, the night of the event, after a clumsy attempt to assemble the damn bow tie, Will
asked why I’d never mentioned I belonged to this charitable organization, especially one flush enough
to give away fifteen million dollars.
“Because, it’s a secret. It’s sort of part of the whole schtick, the anonymity, the quiet servitude, that
sort of thing. But you’ve seen me with Matilda a thousand times. I wasn’t hiding anything.”
Oh my god, was I becoming a liar? Or more comfortable with the truth? It was becoming difficult
to tell the difference.
“But now this group wants the whole city to know it’s giving away millions?”
It was a question I had put to Matilda too, but she said in her experience it was best to hide in plain
sight. A donation that big, to that many organizations would hardly remain anonymous, so why not
openly celebrate it? And S.E.C.R.E.T., under its other name, desperately needed the tax deduction to
keep afloat a little longer.
“If you don’t want anyone to know about your underground group dedicated to female sexual
fulfillment and exploration,” she said, “house it in a mansion in the middle of the city. Why? Because
no one would believe you even if you told them the truth.”
Absently fastening my charm bracelet to my wrist, forgoing his assistance, I suddenly felt nervous
to bring Will to such a strange event. But I trusted the women, especially Matilda, not to blow my
secret. Also, it was the last bit of solidarity I could show, before leaving S.E.C.R.E.T., for these
women who’d done so much for me and asked for so little in return. I even bought a beautiful black
dress for the occasion, a long backless, strappy number, in luscious sateen.