TWENTY-SIX
The Femme Fatale Handbook
Part Two: Putting all of this to use
Chapter Nine: Be Popular!
When I titled this chapter, I didn’t mean that you need to get out there and make a ton of new friends in order to win popularity contests. Well, sort of. What I mean is this: men, and people in general, think something is worth more when other people also want it. Translated, that means a man wants to know that you’re wanted by more than just him. He wants to know that you’re a prize he had to wrestle away from other men.
Need an example? Think about an auction. Have you ever seen people at an auction get into a frenzy about winning something when multiple people start betting on it? Whatever it was that they were betting on in the first place suddenly no longer matters, the importance shifting to the action of becoming the winner against other bidders.
If that comparison didn’t strike a chord with you, think about the restaurant business. Imagine a new restaurant opens up nearby, but you notice it’s always empty, what would you imagine the food was like? Probably not good, right? In general, restaurants that are brimming with patrons only attract more patrons. Why? Because people figure that if other people like the food there, it must be good. Well, the same rule applies to people. If other men want to spend time with you, there must be a reason why. If you’re in high demand, a man will notice it and he’ll want you more.
Seduction follows similar rules. A man wants to feel like he won you—that you are a prize highly valued by other men. He wants the ego boost of knowing you have many options, many guys to choose from and yet you choose to spend your valuable and scarce time with him. It’s basically self-validation—proof that he must be pretty darn special in order to have won your affections, someone who has many other choices. But, the key to remember here, is that he will never win your affections entirely. Not if you’re a true femme fatale. He might win your attention for a day or so, but there will always be other men waiting in the wings. And he knows this, which is why he constantly competes for your attention.
So how do you become popular when the only company you have are the crickets chirping in your room? Simple, reach out to male friends in your circle, and if you don’t have any, make some. If you’ve been neglecting your social life, now is the time to focus on it wholeheartedly. Any and all men are viable subjects as long as they aren’t related to you. Think friends, ex-boyfriends, would-be boyfriends, the guy you met at the supermarket last week, the cute guy who always helps you at the post office, get creative! It’s time to build your reputation as a woman whom men want to be around. It’s time to get the object of your interest to compete for your attention!
Why is this important? For the following reasons:
- It prevents you from stressing over one particular guy. The more men you have at your disposal, the less attached you’ll get to just one.
- The more the merrier! Why settle for just one guy, when you can play with more? You’ll feel better about yourself as well. (Think about it—having lots of guys reaching out to you? Talk about a confidence boost!)
- You’ll look better to him. If you have multiple men vying for your attention, he’s going to realize he has to up his game in order to win you. You become someone more highly valued.
- It reminds you that you have options so you can dump any guy who isn’t living up to your expectations. If you have choices, you don’t have to stick with one guy if he isn’t working out.
- It levels the playing field … if he’s desirable to you, he’s probably desirable to other women, which means he has options. So shouldn’t you have options as well? (The answer is yes!)
***
NIKKI
When I woke up, the vapors of my drunken delirium were still haunting my head, making it ache like an SOB. Luckily, I didn’t have class today which meant I could stay in bed all day and study for the last final of my sophomore year, which just happened to be tomorrow. That, and I could do my best to forget the fact that I’d come on to Derek last night.
Oh my God, I came on to Derek last night, the words echoed through my sluggish mind, causing a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. As soon as the thought occurred to me, Dani opened the door and walked in with a towel wrapped around her head and another one around her body.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said cheerily. “How’s my little alky this morning?”
“Completely mortified, humiliated and embarrassed about what I did last night,” I grumbled. “And it tastes like a dog just took a huge crap in my mouth,” I added, while making a face.
“Well, don’t get too close to me then!” Dani said with a smile as she turned to her bed and started dressing in the outfit she’d laid out for herself.
“Ha ha,” I muttered as I berated myself for being such a total and complete idiot. “How am I ever going to face him again?” I asked as my attention fixed on the dark brown carpet in our bedroom. “I can’t believe I did that last night.”
“You’re going to face him just like you always do,” Dani answered as she pulled on her skinny jeans and smiled at me. “You’re going to act like nothing happened.”
“How am I going to do that?”
“You’re going to pretend,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I did you a favor and skimmed through our Femme Fatale Handbook to see if there might be a section on emergencies, and guess what?”
“What?”
“There was! So I read it, and guess what it said?”
“What?”
“Everything I just told you,” she answered with a smug smile. “Jane said that not all hope is lost and you just pick up right where you left off. You treat him the same way you were treating him and, above all, you maintain your self-confidence.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is, but it doesn’t change the fact that you need to stay the course.”
“And what happens if there was too much damage done? What does Jane say then?” I asked, feeling the blossoming of hope.
“Then you take it as a lesson and you move on,” Dani answered as she pulled out her plastic basket of toiletries and put on her Lady Speed Stick. “First things first, you have to forgive yourself and recognize that you’re human and you’re bound to make mistakes. Yes, the horse bucked you off, but you’re going to get right back up on it, and you’re going to take better control of those reins this time.”
“I just don’t know how I can ever face him again, I’m so mortified,” I said as I shook my head. “And it’s not like he’s going to just sweep it under the rug, either.”
“How do you know he won’t?”
“Because he’s Derek, and he looks for any opportunity to make me uncomfortable,” I answered. “It’s like he gets some sick pleasure out of making me squirm.”
“Well, if he does, then you laugh right along with him, like you don’t think it’s a big deal at all and it was all part of being happily drunk. Don’t play the part of the sad and miserable sap who can’t forgive herself. That’s showing weakness, remember?”
“Yes,” I answered with a nod because I knew she was right.
“And on that note, I’m headed to class for my last final of the year!” Dani said as she beamed at me and, walking toward me, gave me a quick peck on the top of my head. “If I don’t talk to you before you talk to Derek, good luck,” she finished with a salute.
“Thanks, Dani, and good luck on your final,” I muttered as she grabbed her backpack, slung it over her shoulder and started for the door.
***
It was maybe an hour later that Derek texted me, asking me to meet him at his office. As soon as I received the text, I got a sinking feeling in my gut, but I reminded myself of Dani’s words of wisdom and figured I better buck up. No, it wasn’t going to be easy to face him, but if I wanted to be a femme fatale, and I still did, I had to forgive myself and move on. End of story.
So I got up, showered and, even though I wasn’t feeling it, I dressed myself up in a brown miniskirt and a tight pink T-shirt which I paired with my heeled brown flip-flops. I left my hair down and applied just a bit of makeup. Once I was happy with my reflection, I grabbed my purse and a notebook and started the fifteen-minute walk to Derek’s office.
My mind was a mess of thoughts on the way there, and a few times I had to talk myself out of turning around and returning to the shelter of my bedroom. No, I would be strong and I would face Derek and act like nothing important had happened last night. A tall order to be sure, but it was important that I do this for my own sense of self-esteem.
When I reached the stairs leading up to the professors’ offices, it felt like I was treading quicksand. But I took a deep breath and forced myself forward, eventually coming to stand in front of Derek’s closed door. I was just about to knock when I heard his voice from the other side of the door, telling me to come in.
With my heart in my throat, I dutifully turned the doorknob and pushed the door in as I noticed Derek sitting behind his desk. He was leaning into his swivel chair with his long legs on top of his desk, his ankles crossed.
“Hi,” I said with the most self-assured smile I could muster, my heart pounding through me as I turned to close the door.
“Nikki,” he said in greeting, as usual. “How’s your head?”
“My head?” I asked, facing him quizzically.
“Yeah, after how drunk you were last night, I figured you’d have a hangover and a half!”
“Oh, that,” I said with a little laugh that I definitely didn’t feel. Yep, I’d known he wouldn’t let me live this one down. Ugh, why did he have to be so difficult all the time? “It’s fine. I mean, I’m tired, but I took enough Advil to sink a small ship.” Then I smiled at him warmly as I helped myself to the chair directly across from him and put my purse down on the floor. I kept my notebook in my lap. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he answered as he eyed me speculatively.
“So what’s on for today?” I asked, leaning forward and trying to appear excited. “Are we going to review the curriculum for each class?”
His eyes narrowed as he studied me. Then he pyramided his fingers together in front of him and started bouncing them against each other, one by one. “Don’t you think we need to have a talk first?” he asked as my heart thumped and then went into overdrive.
“A talk about what?” I asked, playing the part of innocent pretty damned well, if I had to say so myself.
“About what?” he asked with a skeptical laugh. “About what happened last night.”
“Did something happen last night?” I asked, offering him another innocent smile even though I tried to turn it into a smirk to let him know I was playing a game.
“I’d say so,” he answered as he dropped his legs to the floor and sat up straight in his chair, before leaning forward. “You kissed me.”
“Did I?” I asked and then feigned a yawn. “Hmm, it must not have been that memorable because I can’t say I recall much about last night.” Then I smiled at him again. Somehow, and I had no idea how, but I was channeling someone smart, playful and confident, and she was doing a damned good job of throwing Derek off his game. Thank God for possession.
He chuckled and stood up, immediately running one of his hands through his hair. He came around the desk and then sat on the edge of it, maybe a foot or so away from me.
“So we’re good then?” he asked as he eyed me narrowly. “Nothing weird going on?”
I shrugged. “We’ve always been good, Derek, no reason to stop being good now.” The words just spilled out of my mouth, and inside I was doing the victory dance because I’d never imagined in a million years that I could have sounded as collected and unconcerned as I did.
He chuckled again as he stood up and then, gripping either armrest of my chair, he leaned down until our faces were mere inches apart. “Good, because I would hate for our working relationship to become muddled due to our sexual attraction to each other.”
And that was when I realized what I needed to do. He was challenging me. By saying what he just had and by looming over me, he was showing me the powerful position he believed he held. He was using his physical size to intimidate me, but it wasn’t going to work.
I didn’t say anything as I leaned forward to place my notebook on top of his desk, and then I stood up. He was forced to release either side of my chair as he, too, stood. Once he did so, maybe a few inches of air separated us. Of course, I had to look up at him because he was so much taller than I was, but I didn’t care—just in refusing to stay seated, I was illustrating that I wasn’t going to let him boss me around.
“Our sexual attraction to each other?” I repeated with a salacious smile as I stared into his eyes, refusing to look away. “Whoever said there was any of that? At least on my side …”
He smiled back at me and the pupils of his eyes dilated in a way that hinted at his sexual excitement. Well, at least that’s what Dani had told me a few months ago—that pupil dilation was a surefire signal that a guy was interested in a woman.
“No one has to say it,” Derek nearly whispered as he held my gaze, neither one of us willing to cede the other victory. “It’s obvious.”
My eyebrows reached for the ceiling. “Maybe to you it is,” I started and then cocked my head to the side as I continued to smile up at him, allowing my expression to completely contradict my words. “But I can’t say the same goes for me.”
“Really?” he asked as he laughed in disbelief. “You were pretty convincing last night.”
I shrugged as I leaned forward and whispered into his ear: “Beer goggles, or in my case, Vodka goggles. Apparently it’s a condition that affects everyone.”
“Oh, is that what that was?” he asked as he stared at me, a smirk still riding his lips. He was so close to me, and his eyes were burning in such a way that I wasn’t sure if he might try to kiss me. “Because it didn’t feel that way to me.”
“Of course it was, Derek,” I said as I sought to put some distance between us because there was no way I was going to allow him to kiss me. Not when I needed to play the part of aloof. I took my seat again and primly folded my hands in my lap as I smiled up at him, comfortable in the fact that I had been the one to break our proximity. “What else could it be?” I continued as he frowned down at me. “I mean, you’re my professor and I’m your student … your undergraduate student.”
“I was your professor,” he corrected me as he leaned down above me, returning his hands to either side of my chair. He was turned on. I could tell by the expression in his eyes and the way that he couldn’t seem to stomach any distance between us. “And just for the record, there’s nothing stating that a professor can’t date a student, even an undergraduate one, as long as there isn’t a conflict of interest.”
“Hmm,” I answered as I feigned interest in my nails. “So you’re telling me that you want to date me, huh?” I asked with a laugh, designed to make him feel like I was making fun of him.
“No,” he answered immediately. “I was just pointing out the flaw in your argument.”
“Well, just for the sake of argument, since you seem so inclined toward them, wouldn’t you say my being your teaching assistant is a conflict of interest?” I asked as I started chewing on my bottom lip, wanting to draw his attention to my mouth which worked like a charm.
“I don’t know,” he answered and seemed flustered.
“Well, in my humble opinion, I would say it is a conflict. And seeing as how we both value our ‘working relationship,’ as you termed it, I think it would probably behoove us to keep our distance,” I finished as I reached forward and unfolded his fingers from around my chair before placing my palm flat on his chest and pushing him away from me.
There was a moment of complete surprise in his expression, but then he remembered himself and immediately covered it with one of cool detachment. He stood up and returned to the opposite side of the desk, where he leaned back into his chair and considered me with interest. “It’s good to see you back to your levelheaded self,” he said. I could detect a tone of disappointment in his voice though.
“Oh, my levelheaded self never left,” I answered with a smirk.