take advantage of it.”
Even her voice sounded unfamiliar. He felt naked and vulnerable standing in front of her, so he went to the pile of his clothes he’d so mindlessly tossed at the edge of the bed. He pulled on his pants before he turned to her, using the time to put together his thoughts, pushing his anger back so he could try to understand this strange twist.
When he faced her again, it dawned on him that she’d felt the same astonishment he had, and this was her way of dealing with it. Of course.
“What’s that look?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m thinking you’re right. That you should get your rest.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Not that I didn’t enjoy-”
“I know. Me, too. You’re amazing. But the priority is the campaign, and I’m here to help. So why don’t you go do whatever voodoo you do in the bathroom, and we’ll call it a night.”
“Oh, okay.” Her smile wavered, and for a moment he thought she was back, but then she straightened, avoided his gaze. “Thanks.”
“No sweat.”
She walked past him, not too closely. And then she was gone.
More disappointed than he cared to admit, he got his shirt, shoes, socks and headed for the living room. His gaze moved to the closed bathroom door. He tossed his clothes to the floor beside the couch and threw the pillows on top of them. He yanked the bed out so roughly the whole couch moved, but he didn’t give a damn.
Okay, he’d let her off the hook. She was scared. He got it. His mother would be proud. So why was he so pissed off?
He’d been cheated. Even though he saw the reason, saw the fear in Jessica’s body language, it didn’t matter. He’d been happier than he could remember just ten minutes ago, excited as a kid with a brand-new bike.
Which had just been taken away.
He got undressed again, waited a moment to see if she would come out of the bathroom, and maybe…But the clock kept ticking, and soon he wasn’t particularly interested in whether she came out or not.
He crawled under the sheets and beat his pillow into submission. He heard the bathroom door open, saw the light behind his eyelids dim as she flipped the switch, heard the soft footpads as she crossed the carpet to her bedroom. Even though she tried to keep it quiet, he could hear the click of her door as she shut him out.
Sleep didn’t come for a long, long time.
DIFFERENCES
In arguments a woman has the last word. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband. A husband doesn’t worry about the future until he gets a wife.
A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone and read a book. A man will get dressed up for weddings and funerals.
Source: Orton, Joe “Men and Women Compared”
http://www.orton.demon.co.uk/ff/
12
JESSICA STARED at the ceiling, more precisely at the dark area above her bed. For all her protests that she needed a good night’s sleep, she certainly wasn’t getting one. The last time she’d looked at the clock, it had been two-fifteen. She kept closing her eyes, doing relaxation exercises, but her thoughts kept returning to Dan and how she’d left things.
She could tell he was angry. Not that she blamed him. Talk about doing a one-eighty. The poor guy hadn’t had a lick of warning. On the other hand, it was probably best that she’d nipped their little boink-fest in the bud. It didn’t feel best, but that’s only because it had been such a long time since she’d made love. So long, in fact, that she’d forgotten how much she liked it. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn making love with Dan was a whole different experience than anything she’d done before, but that was silly. The conversation at dinner, the suite, the atmosphere, all had conspired to transform the night into something magical. And face it, she really did like Dan. He was a terrific guy, and had it been a different time in her life…
Blah, blah, blah. She turned over and punched her pillow. It didn’t help. Even she couldn’t believe her own excuses. She liked the guy. She’d loved making love with him. She wanted more. Was it really possible to have Dan and her career? Could she have missed something along the way that would indicate she’d been all wrong?
She tried to think of one person, one woman who’d had a satisfying love life in combination with a powerhouse career. Nothing off the top of her head, and when she finally did think of someone, an ad exec she’d met at a Woman in Marketing meeting, she remembered Estelle and her significant other lived in separate cities, her in New York, him in Los Angeles. Maybe that was the key-distance. Maybe she could set that up with Dan. If not actual distance, perhaps they could make a deal not to see each other but once every few months.
Turning over, she felt the first hope of the long night. That just might work. As long as they agreed not to call one another during the downtimes. Pretend that they honestly were separated by miles and miles.
The more she thought about it, the more it appealed. He would be a treat, a vacation, a reward for hard work. He could dive into his research projects, or take consulting jobs and not have to worry about a girlfriend. She could focus completely on her career moves and not be distracted.
She smiled. This just may be the best idea she’d ever had, better even than the concept for the New Dawn campaign.
Talk about having her cake and eating it too. This could solve everything.
The urge was to get up that second and rush into the living room. But she wasn’t about to wake him. Besides, it was probably too soon to present the scenario. He might not see the beauty of the plan. She’d wait, see if the two of them continued to click as they had. But at least she didn’t feel she had to keep him at arm’s length. In fact, the more they bonded now, the easier it would be to get him with the program.
She sighed happily, found a comfy position, and let her mind drift. Life was good, and so was sex. Amen.
IT WASN’T THE LIMO Marla had expected. Instead, Shawn picked her up in a Yellow Cab, which was perfectly fine with her. He could have ridden up in a Rent-A-Wreck, and she’d have been happy.
He looked yummy in worn jeans and a kind of Mexican shirt, brown with white trim. His hair was a tiny bit damp, but still looked tantalizingly touchable. Marla pulled the door closed, and when she turned to him, his smile made her feel as if it was all her birthdays rolled up into one. And he was the present.
“You look wonderful,” he said.
She rolled her eyes, even though she’d tried on every single item of clothing she owned before deciding on the forest-green jumper with the yellow-and-white blouse underneath. She didn’t want to wear any of the fancy- shmansy clothes she’d bought for the parties, but she didn’t want to be in torn jeans and a stretched-out T. “I wasn’t sure where we were going,” she said.
“You’re perfect.”
Her blush, she felt sure, was only the first of many. She couldn’t help it. Blushing had always been her curse. Her face, it seemed, tried hard to match the exact shade of her hair. So far, she’d come darn close.
“So, uh, where are we going?”
“A deli I know. It’s not fancy, but it’s good.”
“Ooh, yum. I love bagels and cream cheese.”
