J. McKenna - Wanted - Kept Woman

“Here, the new issue’s out,” Wendy said suddenly, grabbing a free Bayside Weekly off the rack. “Let’s find you a man, okay?”

Suzanne blushed and looked around. “Come on, Wen. Not so loud. You make me sound desperate!”

Wendy looked up from the paper. “Oh, sorry.” She grinned. “But we can’t let another day pass without sharing your new look with a brand-new man!”

“I’m an independent woman, I don’t need…” she started to mutter, but Wendy had already walked away. She followed. They sat down on a bench, their heads together as they read the ads.

“Here’s one, ‘SWPM ISO fun-loving, smart, athletic SWF ages 26-36. NS preferred’ .”

“Nah, ‘athletic’ means he doesn’t want anyone who’s…” Suzanne didn’t want to say the “F” word as she no longer thought of herself that way. Yes, five pounds made that much difference. “…not really skinny.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You look great. Okay, try this one, ‘SWDM seeks SWF for fun, walks in the park, movies, games and possible LTR. Must like kids’ .” She paused. “Uh-oh.”

Wendy put the down the paper and both women looked at each other. Simultaneously, they shrieked, “He wants a mom!”

“Yeah,” Suzanne gasped. “He probably has four rotten kids and sole custody!”

“Can you imagine who’d respond to that ad? She’d be a woman with three rotten kids whose husband just ran off!”

They laughed and slapped their thighs. Other shoppers looked at them as if they were crazy women.

“Okay,” Wendy said, tears in her eyes from laughter, “I’m willing to concede maybe that’s not a good one!”

She began reading again. Suzanne was ready to chuck the paper in the trash and head back to work. It was amusing to read them, sure, but to actually answer—

“Hey!”

Wendy looked up from the paper. “Here’s that ad again. The one you were talking about last week.” She showed Suzanne the paper.

Wanted: Kept woman…

“Wow! Two weeks in a row! He must be really desperate!”

“Or maybe he just signed up for two weeks originally, not knowing how many responses he’d get. You never know,” Wendy pointed out.

“Yeah, well, he probably looks like a toad. Or he’s a perv.”

“Well, I’m going to call to find out.” Wendy fished her cell phone out of her purse.

Suzanne gasped. “No! You can’t!” She started to rise. Wendy caught her arm and pulled her back down, then punched in some numbers. Suzanne tried to get away, but Wendy grabbed her arm again and held it.

“Hello? I’m calling about the ad? Uh-uh.” She listened as Suzanne sat there, eyes wide.

“Yes, I can do that. Okay, here’s the email address…”

Suzanne was stunned to hear Wendy give out Suzanne’s email address. “You—!”

“Shh!” she said quickly, her hand over the mouthpiece. To the phone she said, “No, someone was talking. It’s all right.”

Wendy made a few more agreeable comments and hung up. She smiled at Suzanne.

“Well? What? What’d they say?”

“Oh, now you’re curious? You, the girl who’d never answer another personal ad?”

Suzanne brought her hands up and made choking gestures in midair.

“Okay, okay,” Wendy laughed. “She was very nice…”

“She?”

“She was the secretary. Or personal assistant. I’m not sure. Rebecca something. I’m telling you, Suze, this guy does sound rich.”

“Why don’t you date him then?”

Wendy put her hand over her heart. “Because I’m doing this for you. I know you’d never do this for yourself. You need a push and I’m pushing. Look at you. In a week you’ve lost some weight, gotten a whole new look and I’ll bet you’re feeling much better about yourself, right?”

Suzanne had to agree.

“So think of this as the next step in making the New Suzanne.”

“I don’t want to date this stranger! You’re the one complaining about men lately! Why not go after him yourself?”

“Well, I could. We both could.”

“What do you mean? A threesome?”

Wendy laughed. “God, no. I love ya, dear, but not like that! No, the secretary said we have to fill out a short questionnaire and send in a photo in order to get to the next step.”

“Oh, right. I’ll be sure and do that!” She’d already dismissed the idea as dangerous and stupid.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Wendy said. “I’m going to make sure you fill it out. And if you won’t send in a photo, I’m sure I can find one in my collection somewhere…” She paused and looked toward the ceiling. “I can think of a time when you got drunk in Santa Barbara…”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would. Look, girlfriend, I’m going to bust you out of your rut if it’s the last thing I do, okay? You don’t have to marry the guy or even date him more than once, but you gotta get out there and try, you know?”

Suzanne nodded, secretly pleased that Wendy was pushing her into this. She would be far too shy to promote herself. Despite her grave misgivings, she thought she’d humor her friend and let her do this for her. It wouldn’t go any further than this first step.

“Okay, but only if you fill it out on yourself as well.”

Wendy shrugged. “What the hell. It could be fun. If it will make you do it, I’ll do it too.”

The questionnaire sent to Suzanne by Rebecca the following day was simple and straightforward—at first. Age, height, weight, hair color, eye color, education, employment, likes and dislikes—just the facts, ma’am. On page two, however, the questions took a sudden sharp turn.

Do you have a sexual fantasy? Describe it.

How many lovers have you had?

Do you enjoy sex?

Have you ever engaged in sex games? What kind?

What’s your idea of a “kept” woman?

Suzanne gasped and called up Wendy. “Get your ass over here! You won’t believe this!”

Wendy showed up within minutes, breathless with excitement. Suzanne poured them each a glass of wine. “Where? Show me!” Without a word, Suzanne handed her a glass and a printout of the invasive questions.

“Oh my god! This is great!” Wendy squealed. She took a big sip while reading.

“Great? This is sick. No way I’m answering that! This is just some guy getting his jollies. That ‘secretary’ is probably some horny teenager’s cousin or sister.” The cautionary Suzanne was speaking now, she realized. A deeper part of her shivered with excitement.

“Oh, no, she didn’t sound like that. She seemed very professional. But you should call her yourself. Look, there’s a phone number at the bottom.”

“No, dammit. The fun’s over. I’m not about to tell my secrets to someone I don’t even know. Hell, I don’t even tell my boyfriends stuff like this until we’ve gone out six months at least.” Suzanne found herself saying the words, yet hoping Wendy would talk her into taking the next step.

“If you call, maybe she’ll tell you more about this man.”

“No, no! I’m too scared.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t be such a baby. Wouldn’t you rather answer some questions now and get the right guy for you than show up for a blind date and be paired with some troll?”

“There’s no guarantee he isn’t a troll anyway.”

Wendy shook her head. “I don’t think so. I get the feeling he’s on the level.”

“What brings you to that conclusion?”

“Just the whole way he’s going about this—having his secretary set things up, the questionnaire. He’s trying to narrow down the list. This guy has ‘Donald Trump’ written all over him.”