Pygmalion, Part 4

The following story is fictional and is provided solely for the enjoyment 
of its readers. While there are references to actual establishments such as 
major corporations, smaller companies, restaurants and locations, the 
characters in the story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to a real 
person either living or dead is completely coincidental. Several 
non-fictional characters (celebrities) make brief cameo appearances. Their 
role is purely fictional and no way linked to their actual lives. This 
fictional account does contain adult language and themes. If such language 
and themes offend you, please read no further. This story is copyrighted by 
AZ-MAN, 2000, all rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce it in 
any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no 
financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the person 
reproducing it. 



A final thanks - to SSTORYMAN for his support, guidance and friendship. 

Should you have any comments, please feel free to respond to 
azman2k@yahoo.com. 


PYGMALION 
Part 4 of 10 


8. A Time for True Friends 

It had been a week since Beth's dinner with 'The Swingers', as she now 
referred to them in her mind. Her phrase was a mild put-down, a defense 
mechanism perhaps but she'd had no contact with Doug or Hank since their 
dinner together. And though the two men seemed witty and fun to be with, 
their life was on a different plane altogether from the one Beth was trying 
to carve for herself. Beth had an excuse why she hadn't seen Doug around 
the complex though. As was typical, she was burying herself in her work and 
was rarely home. Then, as she was making her way to her front door after 
working late one evening, she noticed a rectangular FedEx envelope on the 
porch resting on the threshold. Beth received numerous FedEx packages and 
letters at work but they never found their way to her house - at least not 
until today. She looked puzzled as she picked up the offering. 

Inside the FedEx packaging was a smaller, sealed white envelope that simply 
had "Beth" penned on it. She couldn't imagine what this was about. She 
pulled the short missive out and read: 



Dear Beth: 

Thank you so much for joining us for dinner the other night! We all had a 
marvelous time. You are a special person Beth, and I already cherish our 
new friendship. I hope you will enjoy these tickets as a token of our 
appreciation and will invite a friend. Feel free to call me anytime whether 
you need something or would just like to chat. Stay in touch! 

Lovingly, 

Hank 



Beth moved her fingers back inside the envelope and pulled out Hank's 
business card and two concert tickets. She flipped them over. A smile 
spread across her face and she spoke aloud, "I'll be damned! He did it." 

The concert was for Shania Twain, the one Beth and Doug had talked about on 
her porch last week. She noticed the seat locations printed on the edge and 
couldn't believe it. They said: SECTION: FLOOR, CENTER. ROW 1, SEAT 1 / 
SEAT 2. 

Just like he said he would do, Beth marveled. She couldn't wait to see 
Heather tomorrow. She was so excited. She didn't give any thought to 
turning down the tickets or offering the second one to someone else. 



"Hey, Heather. Can you come down for a minute?" Beth asked on her work 
telephone. "I've got a surprise." 

"Sure. Oh, wait. I've got a meeting that's going to last till 11. Let's 
just meet in the cafeteria afterwards. That is, unless you want to tell me 
now..." 

"No. It can wait," Beth replied, tantalizing her friend. She set down the 
receiver and closed her eyes. 

Beth had mixed emotions about the upcoming meeting with Heather. They'd 
both been busy and hadn't exercised together at LA Fitness since Beth's 
'swinger' dinner. And more significantly, they hadn't spoken since Beth 
observed Heather smoking on the patio last week. Beth didn't understand 
this 'smoker's gap' she was creating in her mind between she and Pam or, 
now, she and Heather. Pam was her best friend. Why should the fact that 
she's decided to smoke change things? And now, why does it matter that 
Heather smokes? Beth opened her eyes and spoke aloud to herself, "I don't 
know...it just does." 

At 11, Beth headed to the cafeteria and sat down in a seat near the one 
she'd plopped in a week ago during her Heather sighting. She had the 
tickets on the table in front of her and was thrilled to be able to 
surprise Heather with them. 

"Take a look," she said, trying to hide her smile as she slid them over. 

"Beth! Oh, my God! Where'd you get these? Shania's been sold out for two 
weeks!" Heather was completely agog. "And they're on the floor!?" 

"Front row, center," Beth laughed. She was now just as excited. 

Heather stood up and reached across the table to give a bear hug to her 
friend. It was as if the couple had won the lottery. Heather was shrieking. 
A few people stopped eating and looked in the girl's direction. Some 
smiled. 

Heather asked again, "Where on earth did you get these, Beth?" 

Beth just smiled, "Let's just say a friend - he couldn't make it." 

"Some friend! Oh, this is so great." She was still giggling. 

When Heather finally settled down, Beth asked if they were 'on' for tonight 
at the 6 PM aerobics class at the health club. 

Heather wrinkled her nose. "Oh, no. I can't. Actually I've got a date 
tonight." 

"Well...good for you," Beth responded. "Who is he? Anyone around here?" 

"No." Heather paused. "Well, it's a bit strange. It's not really a date. 
It's more like a class I'm taking with someone else." 

"A class? Like a cooking class or something?" Beth asked innocently. 

"Yeah, you're close. I'll tell you all about it someday but for now, I'm 
not sure if it's going to work out or not." 

"It's okay," Beth assured her. 

"I know. This all sounds rather mysterious, doesn't it?" 

"Not really." Then she laughed as if to indicate that she wasn't trying to 
pry. She even leaned down under the table to put her ticket back in her 
purse showing a willingness to change the conversation. While fidgeting 
around on the floor, she noticed a pack of cigarettes, Marlboro Lights 
100s, in plain view resting inside Heather's purse. The hair on the back of 
her neck stood up and without thinking, she blurted out something that'd 
been on her mind for a week. "Heather, when did you start smoking?" It 
sounded almost like a challenge. 

Heather laughed then covered her mouth with her hand. "Oops. You saw the 
pack of cigarettes in my purse just now, didn't you?" She had an 
embarrassed grin on her face. 

Beth continued her charge. "Yes, I did. I also saw you smoking on the patio 
last week. What are you thinking, Heather?" It was as if something inside 
Beth sensed Heather's weakness, so she attacked. "It's stupid. No one just 
starts smoking at your age." They were both 29. 

"I know it may look stupid, Beth," Heather conceded. "If it means anything, 
I only smoke when I'm out with friends. I know I'm not addicted. In fact, 
the pack you see in my purse is my very first - I bought it last week and 
it's still half full." She really was sounding apologetic. 

Beth was having none of it. "Heather, runner's don't smoke, period. When I 
met you, I thought you were a runner like me and into physical fitness. You 
can't do both in my opinion. If I were you, I'd quit now...before you 
become addicted." 

Heather was gaining some confidence and didn't feel like sitting through 
any more of Beth's badgering. "Not now. I'm not quitting when I really 
haven't even begun, Beth." 

"I think it's backward and stupid to smoke for any reason." When she heard 
it aloud, Beth's statement didn't really sound right to her. After all, 
wasn't I thinking of smoking myself last week? She immediately dropped that 
thought and continued, "I don't know why anyone in the world would smoke 
with all the evidence stacked against it." 

Without even giving it a thought, Heather spoke, "Because it's fun. And it 
relaxes me when I'm in a group." 

Relaxes me...God, I hate that word, 'relax', Beth thought. "I think you 
should quit," she said sternly. 

"I think YOU should relax." Poor Heather had unknowingly just touched 
Beth's hottest of hot buttons. 

"Don't you EVER tell me that!" Beth's voice displayed a controlled rage. 
"You don't know the slightest thing about relaxing. You also don't have a 
clue as to what you're doing to your body! I'll say it again, you're stupid 
if you continue to smoke." 

"Are you calling me stupid?" Heather challenged. 

"You know what they say...if the shoe fits..." Beth's face was now beet 
red. 

After hearing this, Heather reached into her purse, took the concert ticket 
that Beth had just given her only minutes ago and flipped it back at her. 
"Here. I don't need this anymore." 

"Fine!" 

"Okay, fine!" 

Beth was stunned. 'Fine' was all she could muster as she watched pretty 
Heather storm away from the table. Now, as if to rub salt in the wound, 
Heather retreated to the patio, sat down and awkwardly lit one of her long 
cigarettes. Beth stayed long enough to observe the scene then left the 
cafeteria in tears clinging to both tickets. 



When Beth got home, she was a nervous wreck. She had lost a friend today 
over something that seemed so significant at the time but now was so 
trivial in the presence of her empty condo. She was still dabbing her eyes 
with tissue. She still hurt and knew she had no one to blame but herself. 

After about an hour of staring at CNN Headline News, Beth decided she 
needed to talk to someone further about smoking. And she needed to do it 
without losing her temper so she decided to call Pam in Albuquerque. Pam 
would help her, she knew she would. 

After dialing the number and listening to four solid rings, Pam and Bill's 
answering machine finally kicked in. At first, Beth didn't recognize their 
greeting. They'd obviously re-recorded it in a very amateur fashion where 
both of them would speak, one after the other. First Bill would say 
something, then giggle, then Pam would follow. The whole thing sounded like 
a stupid high school skit. However, the underlying theme was that this 
couple was very much in love. They'd discovered a secret that re-ignited 
the passion in their marriage and were now openly displaying their 
silliness and affection. And on the answering machine of all things! Beth 
slammed the receiver down, jealous that she and Wayne had never found that 
same affection. 

When CNN had cycled back to the top of the news, Beth decided to try Pam 
once more. As soon as their goofy recorded yammering and laughing greeted 
her a second time, she slammed the receiver down and angrily sent the phone 
flying from the table. Her crying that followed was soon interrupted by the 
sound of the annoying digital 'beep beep beep' from the receiver telling 
her that the phone was off the hook. Beth got up from her chair and 
stumbled over to replace it on the cradle then got an idea. She left the 
room for a minute and when she returned she dialed the number on a business 
card and listened to the phone ring in her ear. 

At the other end, "Hello?" 

"Hello, Hank? 

"Yes." 

In a very measured tone, she continued, "It's Beth. We've got to talk." 







9. The Proposal 



Instead of taking much time on the phone, Hank insisted that Doug drive 
Beth over to his home at once. "At 10:30 at night?" Beth asked. 

"Absolutely. Dougie will be at your door in five minutes. You'll come 
together." 

"Alright," Beth replied meekly. She didn't know why but there was no fear, 
no trepidation, no instinctive caution reminding her that she barely knew 
this man. She'd been through all her options and Hank was all she had. And 
yet, there was a curiosity that was drawing her to Hank like a magnet. In 
any case, Beth had no idea what to expect as they cruised up the driveway 
to a private iron gate and Doug pushed a series of buttons to cause it to 
swing open. 



"Beth, it's wonderful to see you," Hank said as he greeted her with a hug 
and a kiss on the cheek. "You look marvelous this evening." 

"I do not." Beth still showed signs of crying, her make-up was marginal at 
best and she was wearing a pair of casual shorts and a colorful running 
shirt. Still, she did look great to just about anyone that noticed. Her 
body, hair and face were always perfect. "But thanks, anyway." She was 
about to cry again. 

"Hey, Beth," Hank spoke softly, "It's okay." He stroked her pretty blond 
hair. "Come on in and let's sit down." 

Hank led them down a long saltillo-tiled hallway, through a colossal modern 
kitchen and into what they call in the Southwest a great-room. The house 
was absolutely huge. Beth was impressed. She noticed two separate 
staircases, a plethora of original art covering the walls and a study with 
bookcases stacked two stories high. And she'd only been in the house two 
minutes. The entire interior was decorated in a southwestern desert motif 
complementing the traditional Santa Fe adobe architecture that was common 
to this area of Paradise Valley. Beth was used to this style, however. In 
fact her home in Albuquerque was a 'desert southwestern', but not on this 
grand scale. This place was easily worth over three million. She understood 
at least that much. 

"What can I get you to drink Beth?" asked Hank, smiling like the good host. 
"And don't say water," he chuckled. 

Beth was at a loss. She knew the moment called for an alcoholic beverage 
but didn't have a clue what would be appropriate. She remained upset over 
losing Heather and her lower lip still trembled. Then she remembered the 
drink that Cynthia had the other night. It was a martini. And she certainly 
looked sexy sipping it from the special martini glass. Just as Hank was 
about to make a suggestion, Beth softly interjected, "A martini." 

Doug and Hank exchanged a glance. 

"What? Is that not right?" Beth asked. 

"Oh, no, no, no, my dear. In fact, that's Dougie's specialty." 

Doug looked at Hank privately as if to say, 'it is?' 

"Yes, run along Dougie. Fix it for her now." There was a comical urgency in 
Hank's voice. "In fact, make it two. One for each of us." 

Doug leaned over and whispered something to Hank. 

He replied, "Oh, make them out of gin. Yes, straight up. And olives." Hank 
turned to Beth, "You like olives?" then back to Doug, "Give her two big 
olives. Now, go, go!" he commanded with melodramatic flare. 

Beth showed amusement with Hank's light blustering but was still clearly 
troubled. Hank noticed and offered sympathetically, "Dear Beth, what's on 
your mind tonight? What can I do for you?" 

She tried to hold back her sobbing but couldn't, not completely. Hank moved 
next to her in the big chair and again stroked her hair softly. "Oh, 
Hank....I feel so stupid. I can't even really answer why I called you 
tonight. I don't know. I've had such a terrible, shitty day. I must be 
doing something wrong, but I don't know what it is." 

Beth looked directly into Hank's eyes. He could see tears running down her 
face. He asked, "When you have these 'shitty' days, as you put it, what do 
you normally do? I mean, to take the stress away." He was careful not to 
use the word, 'relax'. 

"I go work out. You know, to the gym. Or, I go out for a run." Beth paused 
to wipe her cheek. "But lately, that hasn't been working. I've had a lot of 
crummy days lately." She realized how helpless and sorry for herself she 
was probably sounding to Hank but it was intentional. She wanted someone to 
feel sorry for her, damn it. 

Hank stood up from the chair they were sharing. "Beth, come here for a 
moment. Let's just look out the window. I want to show you something." 

He gestured for her to follow. She got up and they walked to a glass wall 
that ran the length of the great room and stood 10 feet high. There was a 
narrow deck beyond the glass, but the view Beth now could see beyond the 
deck was breathtaking. Before her stood a beautiful, picture-post-card 
expanse of the nocturnal Phoenix skyline with thousands of city lights 
winking in the distance. The lights from the airplanes on approach to Sky 
Harbor airport nine miles away looked like tiny jewels lined up on a giant 
necklace. She now understood why it seemed like such a climb up the 
driveway once they cleared the gate. Hank's house was almost at the peak of 
one of the mountains in Paradise Valley. 

"See that house on the mountain over there?" Hank pointed. 

Beth nodded. All she could see were some lights and a silhouetted jagged 
peak. 

"That's Mummy Mountain. That's Leona Helmsley's old place. Remember her? 
The Queen of Mean?" Hank laughed. 

"I'm not sure," she answered. Then added, "Oh, the hotel lady, right?" 

"Sure is. And see that place below and to the left?" 

"Uh huh." 

"That's where Stevie Nicks lives. I need not tell you who she is," Hank 
smiled. 

"Is she there right now? I mean, does she live there year 'round?" Beth 
looked hopeful. In fact, she was already forgetting some of the troubles 
that she carried through the door earlier. 

Hank responded lightheartedly, "I don't know. Lately, she doesn't clue me 
in on her travels. She could be anywhere now, I guess." His voice trailed 
off adding a touch of mystery and sadness to his statement. 

Beth was now smiling. "Oh Hank, bull. You don't know her...do you?" 

"Put it this way. I did know her. She and I used to be close friends back 
in the early nineties. I probably haven't seen her in, oh, a good six or 
seven years." 

Beth looked back at Hank. She was thinking that maybe it was possible. He 
was very handsome and about the same age as the former Fleetwood Mac 
singer-songwriter, about 50, she guessed. In fact, as she studied Hank, she 
recognized that this man was extraordinarily handsome. He still had a full 
head of dark hair, wonderful lines and facial structure that added a touch 
of ruggedness to his youthful-looking, athletic body. As she stood admiring 
him, Dougie interrupted. 

"Here we are. I hope you're thirsty Beth." He was carrying a tray with two 
large martini glasses, each filled to the rim. One of the drinks had two 
big green olives in it. He handed it to Beth. 

"My God, Doug. I can't drink something that size. How will I ever get 
home?" 

Doug smiled. "I drove you, remember?" 

Hank added, "There goes your excuse, Beth." Then he laughed and Doug joined 
him. 

"Come on, let's sit back down in the chair." Hank guided them back and set 
his drink on a nearby table while Beth chose to hold hers cupped between 
both hands. 

As she took her first sip, she spoke, "Umm. Not bad. It's nice and cool." 

"Yes, Dougie does a good job. He's an expert when it comes to mixing 
drinks, even though he goes a bit heavy on the vermouth sometimes." 

Beth took another sip of the drink between her hands and said, "I like it." 
Then she followed up with a third. 



About halfway into the large martini, Beth was starting to feel buzzed 
although this time it wasn't alarming her. She and Hank were carrying on 
with light chitchat and she was laughing louder and louder with each sip. 
She was very relaxed. In fact, so much so that she thought she was finally 
beginning to understand the elusive word's meaning. 

"Where's Dougie? Where'd Dougie go?" Beth giggled. "You didn't send him 
away did you?" 

Hank reached over and touched something on a remote control device. "Not at 
all." 

Within 30 seconds, Douglas made his presence in the great room. "Another 
round?" he asked cheerfully. Then he looked at Beth's glass and noticed 
that she did in fact need a refill. 

"No, come on in and sit down Dougie. Beth thinks I'm going to start taking 
advantage of her." Then he smiled and winked at her. 

Beth playfully slapped Hank on his thigh and said, "No, I don't!" She 
turned to Doug and spoke, "He's making that up." She took a last swallow of 
her drink and said, "He's being a perfect gentleman." They all laughed. 

Doug decided to enter the conversation. He was sipping a Diet Coke when he 
came into the room. "Beth, on the ride over, you spoke of a Heather out at 
Motorola. What's her last name?" 

Beth's happy continence suddenly changed to a frown. "What'd you bring her 
up for?" You know her?" 

Doug looked at Hank. Hank nodded then Doug spoke, "We might." 

"Smyth. Heather Smyth," Beth snapped, then changed her tack. "Hey, Dougie 
can I pretty please have one more of your wonderful martinis? I'd just as 
soon forget Heather for now." 

Hank quickly grasped that Beth and their Heather knew each other and did in 
fact have some kind of fight today. "Is Heather the reason for your being 
upset tonight, Beth?" he asked. 

"Yes!" she answered. She acted like she going to pout. 

"What happened?" 

"Oh, we're being direct, aren't we?" 

"Maybe." 

"In that case, I want another one of Dougie's famous mar-tunis, I mean 
martinis." Beth's initial giggle turned into laughter when she realized she 
mispronounced 'martini'. 

Hank looked at Doug, then Doug vanished. He continued, "So, you and 
Heather..." 

"Fuck Heather," Beth announced boldly, then tipped her glass high against 
her lips confirming it was empty. 

Hank winced at the profanity only because it seemed to come out of nowhere. 
"Fuck Heather? My, my, Beth, what could've possibly happened today to make 
you say that?" 

Beth decided to cut right to the chase. Her 'mar-tuni' had provided the 
catalyst. "Heather smokes. I mean she just started, maybe a week or so ago. 
When I told her it was stupid, she got mad and left." 

"That's it? That's all that happened?" Hank was very interested Beth's 
encounter. 

"Well...maybe I called her stupid. Besides, why would someone just decide 
to start smoking? She's a runner, like me. I don't get it." 

"There's all kinds of reasons Beth. Did you ask her?" 

"Yes." 

"And what did she say?" Hank was very interested in her reply. 

"That she liked smoking in a group. That it relaxes her." 

"Well, that's true. Sometimes if you are edgy in a social situation, 
smoking, or just holding a cigarette, can make you feel more part of the 
group. That is if all or part of the group is smoking. Maybe she just wants 
to blend in," Hank said, knowing Heather's real reason. "For example, I 
enjoy a good cigar on occasion, especially if I'm in a social 
situation...you know, like the other night." 

Beth accepted a second martini from Doug as he slipped into the room almost 
invisibly. She took a big initial drink from it and added, "Yes, I know. 
Just like the other night. And I suppose Cynthia was smoking her Virginia 
Slims one after the other just to blend in too, huh?" 

Hank laughed. "No." He continued his chuckle, "No, I'm afraid she's got a 
nice, healthy addiction going." He smiled reflectively. 

They both paused and sipped their drinks. Beth had more than just a little 
buzz on. The room wasn't spinning yet but time was starting to compress and 
she'd pretty much given up her concern with the clock. She finally spoke, 
holding her drink close again with both hands. "To be honest Hank, I'm not 
mad at Heather. After considering the entire scene, I think I'm jealous. 
Isn't that stupid? I want to be like her. I want to be like my other 
friend, Pam. I want to be the one that can cut loose and party, to go 
clubbing and drinking and smoking when I feel like it. But I can't! I also 
want to be able to run and work out and be this healthy body that enjoys 
being around other healthy bodies. And I want to be able to work hard at my 
career. I want it all. I want the drive to do it all." In the midst of her 
obvious resentment, she was close to crying again. 

"You can Beth. You can. You just need to learn how to integrate the proper 
'down time' for relaxing. And I can help you." 

"If this is what it's like to relax, then I want to do more of it!" she 
proudly proclaimed staring into her glass of clear liquid. 

Hank cheered her on. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, but 
that's the spirit!" 

"You know what I want right now?" 

"What?" 

Beth's next statement shocked him. "I want a cigarette." Then she made eye 
contact and continued. "To go with my martini." 

Hank calmed himself and answered, "You better be careful, Beth. I can 
actually make that happen you know...if you'd like." 

Beth showed him nothing but her gin-marinated confidence. "Then make it 
happen big boy. I'd love a cigarette right now." She punctuated it with a 
long sip from her drink. 

Hank was ecstatic. He couldn't believe how quickly things were progressing. 
He punched his remote control again and Doug dutifully appeared. "Dougie, 
Ms. Peterson would like a cigarette." Then he looked at Beth. "And what is 
your usual brand, madam?" he asked with mock formality knowing full well 
that this was probably her first. 

"Whatever Cindy-what's-her-name was smoking the other night. Virginia 
Slims. Yeah, that green pack." 

Hank motioned Doug closer. He whispered something Beth did not catch. "Get 
her a pack of the menthol lights - not the full flavor." 

Beth chimed in, "Hey, are you sending Dougie to the store just for me? 
Don't do that. I can try, err, I can smoke whatever." 

Doug answered, "Oh dear Beth, I won't be going to the store. It's all taken 
care of. I'll be back in less than a minute." Then he was gone. 

Hank watched Beth sip her second drink. She looked wonderfully radiant and 
sexy sitting slouched in the chair. He couldn't wait to see her smoke but 
thought he'd add one final escape for her if she wanted. "You know Beth, 
this is rather sudden. If you'd like to reconsider trying your..." 

She cut him off, "Please don't try to talk me out of this. I've been 
wanting to try smoking since I first saw my friend Pam do it in front of me 
at Chili's." 

"Okay. Good. Fabulous." He put his hand on her leg in a reassuring gesture. 

Doug soon appeared bearing a pack of Virginia Slims Menthol Lights and a 
gold lighter on a tray. 

Beth giggled at the formality of it all and innocently lifted the pack off 
the tray. Hank took the lighter. At first, Beth looked unfamiliar with how 
to open the pack but soon had little trouble tearing off the cellophane. 
She flipped the box lid back and just stared at the light green foil 
covering the cigarettes. Hank could see that she might have some difficulty 
so he gently took the pack from her hands, lifted the foil off and 
extracted one of the long, white cigarettes. At first he was going to place 
it between her lips but then decided to let her do it. Beth took the 
cigarette and very naturally placed it between the fingers in her left 
hand. She held it for a moment and looked at it. She waved it around and 
smiled. Then, very decisively, she placed it between her lovely, full lips 
and told Hank, "Light me, sweetie." Somehow, it seemed to Beth the right 
thing to say. 

Hank gladly complied. He clicked the elegant gold lighter and a small flame 
appeared. Beth held one side of her hair back as she caught the flame with 
her long cigarette and sucked as she would on a straw. Hank noted that she 
did not inhale any of her first puff but nonetheless marveled at how easy 
she got the cigarette going. After Beth had the freshly lit cylinder at her 
side and made sure there was no more smoke left in her mouth, she took a 
sip of her martini. 

There was a mutual unspoken understanding that this was Beth's first 
cigarette (which it was) so Hank decided to offer a little help. "Now Beth, 
before you proceed, I should tell you a little bit about..." 

Hank's words ended when he saw Beth confidently raise her cigarette to her 
lips a second time and begin a puff. She held on to it with her fingers 
while it was in her mouth but this time, when she removed it, she opened 
wide (just like she'd seen Pam and Deb do) and breathed in. Hank was 
waiting for a coughing fit, a gasping for air, or any telltale sign that 
inhaling cigarette smoke did not agree with her young, athletic female 
body. What he saw surprised him. As easily as Beth inhaled (not very 
deeply), she kept her mouth partially open and just naturally exhaled. It 
looked mildly beginner-ish but still, an impressive stream of smoke left 
Beth's body rather than a single cloud, as a non-inhaling neophyte would 
do. 

"Not bad, Beth." 

Hank wanted to continue talking but she quickly followed with a second 
puff. It pretty much mirrored her previous effort with the exception of her 
exhale. The stream of smoke from her mouth lasted a few moments longer. 
Beth returned her cigarette to her side, took a cleansing sip from her 
drink and asked, "How'm I doing?" 

Hank grinned. "I was going to ask you the same thing." 

"Well, not bad actually. The room is spinning but I can't tell if it's from 
my two martinis or this." She held the cigarette up to look at it. It 
needed to be de-ashed so she flicked it in the ashtray a few times then 
raised it back to her lips. 

Hank couldn't believe it. He watched as she inhaled puff number three. This 
time her cute, firm body protested ever so slightly. Beth had her mouth 
open and just finished sucking all the smoke into her lungs. As she started 
to let it out (keeping her mouth open in the same position), she hesitated 
like something had caught inside her. All of a sudden her chest felt heavy 
and she breathed in again, sending the smoke into the deepest recesses of 
her lungs. Her eyes grew large like a panicked drowning victim. Hank 
thought she was either going to pass out or start coughing wildly. But 
thanks to her large lung capacity from years of conditioning, Beth was able 
to quickly reverse the smoke and clear her lungs in one long exhale. A look 
of calm spread across her face when she too realized that there was not 
going to be any choking or coughing spasms. 

"Are you okay?" Hank asked. 

Beth thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think so. I almost lost it there, huh?" 
Then, to show she still had confidence, she said, "This is easy. What's the 
big deal?" 

Knowingly, Hank said, "Just wait a second." 

"What?" Then, very slowly Beth started to understand Hank's statement. "Oh, 
God. What's going on? I feel, oh God, I feel woozy and...and euphoric at 
the same time. What is that?" 

"It's the magic," Hank smiled. 

Beth returned with a laugh. "Magic? As in what...the drug?" 

"Yes. The magic drug nicotine. At first it may nauseate you until you get 
used to it. But that's only temporary. As you smoke more, the magic is 
revealed. That giddy, excited feeling you get each time you sit down to 
enjoy a cigarette - the energy, the euphoria as you described it, and the 
wonderful boost are all part of the process. 

They were sitting very close in the big chair. Hank had moved closer after 
lighting her cigarette. Now, Beth was looking into his eyes as he spoke, 
barely paying attention to his words. The combination of her drinking and 
smoking and being in this handsome man's company was making her want him 
closer still. When Hank finished talking, she leaned up to his face. Very 
naturally their lips met as they shared a brief but passionate kiss. When 
they finished, they followed up with another. 

Then Hank spoke, "Beth, let me help you. I know why you came here tonight." 
His face was only inches from hers. 

"Okay, why'd I come here, Mr. Smarty Pants?" Beth said playfully. She 
barely understood why she came. She also thought she wanted another puff on 
her cigarette. 

"For help, as a friend would expect. You know all those things you talked 
about? About wanting it all? I can help you balance your life so that will 
be possible." 

She kissed him again slowly. As their lips parted, she asked, "How?" 

"By teaching you things." 

They shared another brief kiss. "What things?" Beth thought she knew where 
the conversation was going. She finally took the puff she'd been waiting 
for. 

Hank wanted to finish his idea, his concept, but was quickly being pulled 
off track by this beautiful woman's touch and her wonderful kisses. As he 
watched Beth inhale her fourth puff only inches from his face, he couldn't 
resist doing something he hadn't done in many years. He moved his lips to 
meet Beth's as her smoke rested in her lungs. Then, without words or 
coaxing, Beth opened her lips along with Hank and he took her entire sweet 
exhale into his own lungs before sealing it with a kiss. It tasted 
heavenly, it felt heavenly. 

Hank was groping for words. "Beth, I, uh, are you okay?" His head was 
swimming. 

"I want to do that again," was all she said. 

She handed Hank her cigarette wanting him to initiate this time. He eagerly 
complied and took a long drag and inhaled as Beth readied her mouth. Hank 
could tell there was a lot more smoke that was going to be passed this 
time. Beth eagerly sucked it down and when they ended their exchange with a 
kiss, Hank could see Beth smiling and exhaling through her nose. 

"Whoa, I think I'm done. I'm getting woozy again." Beth's smile remained 
however. 

Hank reached over to the ashtray and put out the Virginia Slim. "You did 
great! You sure that was your first cigarette?" 

"Yes. Couldn't you tell? I sure could. Right now I'm floating." 

Hank was so impressed and so horny at the same time, he couldn't resist 
asking, "May I have another kiss?" 

"Certainly." 

Their lips met once again for a very long time. They briefly touched 
tongues before ending it altogether. Hank sat unbelieving of all that had 
happened tonight yet he knew it must end soon. He needed to ask Beth one 
more time and get her commitment. "Beth, I can teach you this lifestyle. 
You can have the balance you are seeking if you just give me a chance." 

Beth now thought she fully understood Hank's offer. This was his shy, 
indirect way of asking if she would consider dating him. In her inebriated 
state, she thought his was a cute if not slightly unorthodox manner. "Okay. 
When do we start the lessons?" she asked, thinking she was playing along 
with his game. 

Hank was elated. "First thing Saturday. Will you remember to be here by 10 
on Saturday morning? Dougie can bring you." 

"Sure thing, Mr. Hank Graham. Whatever you say," Beth sniggered. 

They got up to walk towards the vast saltillo-tiled foyer and kissed 
goodbye outside the tall double doors on the porch. Beth needed some 
assistance from Doug to get to his idling car and they walked arm in arm 
until he ensured that she was safely in the passenger seat. Then Doug 
walked back over to Hank. 

"Did she agree?" Doug asked excitedly. 

"I think so." Hank appeared a bit elusive. 

"What do you mean, 'I think so'? Did she or didn't she?" 

"Yes, yes. She agreed. I just think that she believes I was propositioning 
her. She doesn't fully know the extent of our plan, the lessons and 
our...our bet." 

"Well, she should never know about our bet silly." Doug sounded cute but 
reprimanding. 

"Of course not." 

"When do we start?" Doug was sounding very eager. 

"Saturday at 10. Make sure she's here. And I'll make sure the uh, 'other 
party' is here." 

"Roger skipper," Doug kidded. "I better get her home. She's got to go to 
work tomorrow and I don't think she's going to be feeling quite up to it." 
He grinned at Hank. 

"Good night, Dougie. And thanks...thanks for everything." 

Doug gave Hank a serious look then nodded to him. Soon, he was in his car 
with his sleeping passenger racing back to McCormack Ranch Village. 

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