Demon Spiral

Chris was one of the new employees. He knew why he’d been invited to the party. He even knew why he’d been hired as an assistant manager of one of Wentworth’s fast-food restaurants. He had been game for it and he’d been had by Wentworth before coming to this pool party. Wentworth was just his type: self-assured, an air of entitlement, twenty years older than he was but in expensive gym trim, a devilish look in his eyes, and curly black hair swirling on his chest and belly, arms and legs.

There was a brief regret that Chris had been put in the place of meeting Wentworth’s bubbly wife and two teenage daughters at this pool party—and especially at the attention, almost competitive between them, that the daughters were expending on him. But, what the hell, he thought. If it didn’t bother Wentworth, it wouldn’t bother him either. He had a brief tug at his conscience over that, though. He hadn’t been raised to be cheating with a married man. But he suppressed that thought. It wasn’t like he’d have sex with the man here in his own home, under the noses of his family.

“I don’t know, Mr. Wentworth. It looks like these are the last three crab Rangoons.” He’d heard his supervisor, Cathy, wafting by just a few minutes ago, saying she was on the hunt for the crab Rangoon. “They always have it here,” she was telling someone else. “It’s the best thing about the Wentworths’ parties. I’ve been dreaming about it all week.”