Free With or Without You by Alison Tyler Page A

owns a breathtaking assortment of fedoras. Some are rhinestone studded, others made of mohair. Each one signifies a different desire.
    What might I have if I were to choose a similar code system? A book – that would do it for me. If I had a black book with me, that would mean I wanted … wanted what? Wanted a fantasy life like Nora’s? Wanted Anthony? I didn’t need a book to know that, and apparently Nora had understood what I’d thought were my hidden longings only too well.
    On screen, Nora was now pressed up against the blonde vixen, her hands on the girl’s breasts, her lips still moving over the woman’s slender body. The men stood on either side of the Asian girl, and they were kissing her as well, working their mouths along her neck, down to her breasts, touching and kissing her all over. The girl looked as if she might swoon from the pleasure, as if she would melt away if not for the support of her friends. Nora had her mouth now against the vinyl fabric covering the space between the girl’s thighs. The vinyl looked wet under the bright lights, and I was sure that it waswet for real under Nora’s ministrations, wet on the inside.
    The camera in the room didn’t move. It was set firmly on its pedestal, able to catch only the motions that were within the eye of the viewfinder. So when Nora disappeared out of the screen, the customers on the dance floor had to use their imaginations. Was she moving her way down the pretty blonde’s thighs? And if so, what was she doing down there? We all knew. Of course, we did. But wondering made the concept that much more sexy. I could imagine what Nora was doing. I’d seen her work Dean. I knew that she had well-developed oral skills.
    I stared back at the dance floor, pondering this thought, and I would have stared on longer, but Nora suddenly poked me. I started, as shocked to see her in person as I had been to see her up on the screen, still believing that she was up on screen, off in that room.
    ‘Where were we?’ Nora asked, passing a fresh drink to me.
    I couldn’t believe her. She actually wanted me to get back to my story. Apparently, she’d slipped out of the room stealthily, leaving the trio to their own erotic endeavours, satisfied with playing her role as the match that sparked the flame of lust. Not that they’d really needed her assistance, but they’d definitely enjoyed the help.
    ‘You really want me to keep going?’ I asked her. I saw that her lipstick was slightly smeared, but she still looked plenty put together. The Cinéma Vérité room was still up on the screen, the men now with their shirts off, sandwiching the Asian girl between them.
    ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I was only giving the crowd a little thrill.’
    ‘A big thrill.’
    ‘People expect something special when they come here,’ she said, unconcerned by my shock. I have been at the Pink Fedora often enough to know that she wastelling the truth. She makes the gossip rags on a regular basis. Celebrities feel free to let their wild sides show. Nora has a loyal staff. She hasn’t caught anyone selling stories to the grocery-store magazines. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t spill a few choice secrets herself every once in a while – how else to stay at the top of her game?
    ‘Go on,’ she said now, pulling a lip gloss out of her purse and retouching her make-up. ‘You were describing how you felt when you found those papers.’
    I watched as she redid her lips without the help of a mirror. She was using her favourite brand of gloss other than her own, one called Delux Beauty, which is known for naming their lip glosses after men. One of the reasons Nora has so many cosmetics is that she is the head of her own Pink Fedora make-up line. She considers buying cosmetics part of her job. She keeps an antique goblet filled with the different mini-lip glosses at home, each one featuring a different man’s name. Nora has told me in the past how much she likes the concept of