by Francis Ray
Brooke only had to think about her answer for a moment. “Forget him and go on.”
* * *
“Daddy.”
John jumped upright, turning around at his desk to see Mark in his Spider-Man pajamas. Concerned, John knelt in front of his son and put his hand on his forehead. Amy might roam at night, but not Mark. “You feel all right, son?”
“I’m a big boy, now. You don’t have to go with me tomorrow.”
So he’d overheard the conversation with his grandmother when John had asked her to keep Amy. John had been afraid of that. He just hoped Mark hadn’t overheard his earlier conversation with Brooke as well. The lady wasn’t too happy with him. “I want to go.”
Mark looked at him, then away. “I didn’t mean to, but I heard you talking to Grandma today when you asked her to keep us tomorrow night because you had a date.”
“Then you heard me tell Grandmother when she reminded me about the field trip that I was going with you instead.”
“Because you promised.”
John’s hand lifted his son’s chin. He was so darn sensitive and loving, just like his mother, and always on his best behavior. “That and because I love you, and I’d feel better if I was there when you go canoeing and do all the other fun things we’re going to do tomorrow.”
Mark’s head came up a fraction. “You can go on the date if you want to. I’ll wear my life jacket. Mr. Johnson never has to reprimand me like the other boys.”
No, and that worried John. Mark was too self-contained. John tipped Mark’s chin up the rest of the way. “You’re a better young man than I was at your age. Did I ever tell you the time I almost got kicked out of the Cub Scouts?”
“You did?” His eyes widened.
“I threw rocks into the Grand Canyon before the scoutmaster could get it out of his mouth not to. Then that night when no one was looking I put firecrackers into the campfire before it was lit. Grandma and Grandpa both spanked me good when I got home.”
“Amy gets spankings all the time, but I never get spanked,” Mark said as if he regretted it.
John playfully swatted Mark’s backside and watched his son’s eyes grow huge in surprise. “Consider this your first for getting out of bed. I ought to give you another whack for even thinking I didn’t want to go with you tomorrow. You and Amy are the most important people in the world to me. Never forget that.”
“My social studies teacher says women are important, too, and Miss Dunlap is a woman.”
That she was. John pushed to his feet and took his son’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“I’m glad you’re going, Daddy.”
“Me, too, son. Me, too.”
* * *
Brooke woke up Saturday morning determined to have a wonderful day. She breezed into Claire’s home in one of her favorite outfits, a gauzy coral-colored blouse and white, hip-hugging jeans, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She chatted with Claire and Lorraine, glued the cotton wicks exactly in the center of the glass jars, labeled merchandise, checked e-mail, then went back to check the wicks to make sure they remained in the center as the wax hardened.
“You want to talk about it?” Lorraine asked.
“What do you mean?” Brooke asked, moving to the next candle. Jasmine Whipped Meringue.
“Something is bothering you,” Lorraine persisted.
“I’m fine.” Twenty or so candles left.
“We’re not prying. We care about you.” Claire placed her loosely folded hands on the table where she and Lorraine had been bagging moisturizing lotion into netted bags. “Remember our pledge to each other? You haven’t said two words in the last two hours.” She looked at Lorraine. “If it’s money and the check yesterday won’t cover your expenses, we—”
“John canceled on me,” Brooke interrupted. “He went on a camping trip with Mark today.”
Lorraine picked up a length of yellow satin ribbon. “Hamilton was always too busy to take Justin anywhere.”
“Derek was never the outdoors type.” Claire began carefully putting the bath gel she’d finished labeling in the packing box. “I made turkey salad for lunch.”
“That’s all?” Brooke asked. “You aren’t going to shred him to pieces or at the least tell me how immature it is of me not to understand?”
“Anything we would say would be redundant.” Lorraine stretched, then stood. “Claire, you make the best turkey salad.”
“It’s the scallions and my special dressing.” Claire went to the kitchen and took out the salad while Lorraine set the table.
Brooke had no choice but to follow. “You aren’t going to let me sulk?”
“You’ve done enough of that. We all have,” Lorraine said. Removing the plastic lid, she set the bowl on the L-shaped island.
“But I have to admit, if I’d known all the self doubts and hours I’d spend wondering about Gray’s feelings for me, I might have run the other way when he kissed me.”
Brooke took a box of crackers from the cupboard and set them beside the salad, then she slid onto one of the white slat-back stools around the island. “You can say that again.”
Placing flatware beside the plates, Lorraine took her own seat. “All we can do is play this out and play to win.”
Brooke was already shaking her head. “Maybe for you two, but I’ve decided to end it now. There’s nothing for me with John except hot sex.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if that’s all Hamilton and I have left,” Lorraine said quietly. “Although he hasn’t said anything since Thursday night at the pre-opening, I catch him watching me and I just know he still resents Bliss. But I’m afraid to confront him.”
Claire placed a small plate of fruit and cheese by the salad and took her own seat at the end of the counter. “When Gray returns, I’ll be able to tell you my take on it.”
“About time,” Brooke said, biting into a strawberry. “As for me, I’m bailing. I’m putting on my sexiest dress and going out tonight. It’s time I got back into the game.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Brooke left her apartment that night in a cloud of Rouge by Hermes. The Prada red slip dress clung to her figure like a possessive lover. There was a trendy new club she’d heard about that she wanted to check out. Now that Bliss was off to a good start she could relax a bit, even pay more than the minimum on a couple of the credit card bills. She had a right to kick up her red four-inch Manolo Blahniks a little bit.
Inside the Blue Note she found the music loud, the smoke stifling, and the men boring. She decided to leave before she finished her Evian. Fifteen bucks wasted. Going to the bathroom to repair her lipstick, she listened to the chatter about men, how to get them, how to dump them, how to drive them crazy with sex. The usual.
“Let’s check out The Loft. It’s more upscale. There are no cute guys here.”
Brooke agreed with the redhead in a dress that showed everything she was born with. Brooke felt almost overdressed. Washing her hands, she opted to pass on putting lotion on them. There was a big sticky yellow glob beneath the pump dispenser.
Outside Brooke asked the doorman for the address of The Loft, laughed off his request to go with her, and got into her car. Seven minutes later she saw why there weren’t a lot of people in the last place. They were all trying to get in The Loft.
She cruised in front of the club intending to check out the men and see if there was one that might possibly interest her, but she found herself studying the women instead. Most of the women in the line that wrapped around the building were there hoping, like the women at the Blue Note, to meet a non-violent, gainfully-employed heterosexual man. They were looking their best to attract and entice. Bliss could help them do that.
The idea popped out of nowhere and with it a whole new marketing plan emerged. Making a U-turn Brooke called Claire on her cell phone. “Fill up several pump bottles with Pear Vanilla moisturizing cream, make sure they have Bliss’s addres
s and web site on them. I’ll be there in twenty minutes to pick you up. We’re about to widen our client base.”
* * *
“Brooke, are you sure you can get in?” Claire glanced at the long, jovial line of men and women in evening wear waiting to get inside The Loft.
“No.” She adjusted the V of her dress so more of her cleavage showed. The red slip dress stopped mid-thigh. “But I’m going to give it my best shot. Worse comes to worse, I’ll let the women in line sample the product. The scent is soft enough that it won’t interfere with whatever fragrance they’re wearing.”
Claire wasn’t convinced. She’d counted at least four policemen patrolling the area on foot. “You could get arrested.”
“That’s the least of my worries. My family is full of uniforms.” She picked up the two slender plastic bottles. “Here goes.”
Trying not to chew on her lip, Claire sat in the driver’s seat of the Jag. She saw Brooke stop and briefly speak with a couple of the policemen, before moving on to the front door. When Claire thought her nerves were stretched to the breaking point, Brooke disappeared through the black front door.
Claire didn’t draw an easy breath until Brooke came back out empty-handed. Waving, she ran lightly back to the car. The gaze of the policemen followed. “Let’s get out of here,” Claire said.
“Not yet.” Reaching into the back seat, Brooke picked up the box with the remaining bottles. “Gotta repay the men in blue.”
“You bribed policemen? You can’t do that!” Claire could hear the clinking of the jail cell door.
The look on Brooke’s face was one of pure devilment. “Of course you can’t. I’m simply donating these to those nice policemen for protecting the city. If anyone needs to blow off a little stress between the sheets, it’s those who protect and serve. Be right back.”
True to her word, Brooke came back directly. Claire went around to the passenger side and got in. “You enjoyed almost giving me a heart attack, didn’t you?”
Brooke let the top down on the Jag, then pulled off. “You know you had fun.”
Claire laughed, leaning her head back against the headrest and letting the cool evening breeze blow through her hair. “Certainly beats how I planned to spend the evening.” She threw a worried glance at Brooke. “Sorry.”
“I’m not going to crumble. Tonight could be the beginning of a source of new revenue. Some clubs won’t care about lotion for their customers, but the upscale trendy ones will. Those are the ones we want to go after.” Brooke headed for Highway 17. “I think we should contact several of them and suggest placing complimentary lotion in the ladies room. All with Bliss’s information of course. Some of the attendants might not be as accommodating for a twenty as the one tonight, or think nothing of taking it home.”
Claire nodded. “I’ll start working on the list tomorrow. I think we should also include the four- and five-star hotel ladies rooms. Some of Lorraine’s women’s organizations may have had events at a few of them and she might have some contacts.”
“I agree. I’ll take the clubs. You can keep working on fine-tuning the site and producing the products. We’re going to need them.”
* * *
“Hi, sis.”
Sitting in her home office Sunday afternoon working on the list of clubs and hotels, Claire tensed on hearing her brother’s voice. She couldn’t afford to give him any more money. She felt ashamed at the thought and even more that she wished it was Gray calling. “Hello, Derek.”
“You just get back from church?”
“About an hour ago. Did you go this morning?” she asked although she was sure she already knew the answer.
“I overslept. Maybe next Sunday,” he explained. “Boss down at the job is on my case all the time. If that isn’t enough, my girlfriend is always after me about one thing or another.”
Standing, Claire walked to the French doors and looked out at the calm blue waters of the Atlantic. She could see two people fishing from the shore. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I can’t sell cars if nobody is buying. The economy is tight. Sheila is always pissed because I don’t have the big bucks to take her to some fancy restaurant. She probably wouldn’t even know which fork to use,” he said snidely.
From the way it sounded, Claire didn’t think there was very much affection between the two. “I thought your girlfriend was named Tonya.”
He tsked. “Had to cut that crazy woman loose.”
A couple strolled by, hand in hand. Perhaps one day that would be her and Gray. “How long have you dated Sheila?”
“Heck if I know. Met her at a club downtown. She was hot. All nice and smiling. Now every time she opens her mouth, she’s nagging.”
Claire massaged her temple, trying to keep her mind on Derek and not on how much she missed Gray. “I don’t know what to tell you, Derek.”
He tsked again. “I wasn’t asking for advice, Claire. You don’t know the first thing about relationships.”
His words stung. She almost blurted out that he didn’t either from the sound of it. “I’m dating someone.”
“Who?” There was derision mixed with disbelief in his voice.
“Just someone I met.” She didn’t want to hear Derek get on Gray’s case again. The couple she was watching embraced and Claire went back to the computer.
“Be careful, Claire,” he warned. “Don’t let some fast-talking dude dupe you into giving him money or moving in with you.”
The only men Derek thought she’d attract were users. “Yes, you’ve told me that before.”
“For your own good, baby sis,” he lightly replied.” Either he didn’t catch the annoyance in her voice or he didn’t care. “Well, gotta go, but how is the business going? Making any big money?”
She tensed again. “With three partners, it will be a long time before that happens.”
“You never can tell. Bye.”
“Goodbye.” Claire hung up the phone, dismissing Derek’s warning as she did so. He didn’t know Gray the way she did. Life had certainly been simpler before they started seeing each other, but she had to admit as she sat back down to the computer, not nearly as exciting.
* * *
Lorraine had to get out of the house. Changing into slacks and a white sleeveless blouse, she told Hamilton she was going for a walk and left. Since he was the cause of her leaving, she wasn’t about to ask him if he wanted to go with her.
She set off at a leisurely pace, waving to her neighbors, smiling despite the ache in her heart. She’d always loved living here and in the past had enjoyed looking at the beautiful, landscaped homes. Until today. She wasn’t surprised when she ended up in front of Thomas’s house. She and Margaret had talked about everything. But Margaret was gone.
She bowed her head, then lifted it, and started up the steps of the gray limestone Spanish Revival house. She didn’t want to go home and she couldn’t wander the neighborhood. The door opened seconds after she rang the doorbell. Thomas greeted her with a pleased smile.
“Lorraine, what a wonderful surprise.” He stepped back. “Please come in. I was going to call later. Nice article in the newspaper.”
“Hello Thomas. Thank you. We were pleased. It will help business.” And add to the troubles of my marriage. Dragging her hands out of her pockets, Lorraine stepped inside the wide foyer. Overhead was an immense wrought-iron chandelier. To her right and circling in front of her was a gracefully carved iron-banistered staircase. Ahead of her was the family room, where she’d spent many wonderful hours. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Never. I just came to get a glass of wine, then I was going back to the pool. Care to join me?”
“I’d love to,” she said.
“Good.”
Lightly taking her arm, Thomas steered her into the family room, and then went to the built-in bar. Directly behind him was a built-in eight-foot-tall saltwater aquarium. Handing her a glass, he indicated she should precede him.
Although sh
e had been inside the pool room hundreds of times it always took her breath away a little bit. Stretching one hundred feet, with a vaulted ceiling three stories high and formal colonnades, the wing held the indoor pool, a fully equipped gym and spa, and a wide deck for pool parties. Amid oversized light honey rattan furniture with plush cushions were three live palm trees.
Thomas indicated a lounger big enough for three people. Lorraine sat and propped her feet up. Her back sank against the cushion. She sighed.
“Bad day?”
She sipped her wine. “Try several bad days.”
“I wish I could help.”
She smiled over at him. “You have, just by being there.”
He nodded, then sat back and sipped his wine as if deep in his own thoughts. That was all right with Lorraine, she had a lot on her mind as well.
“I was going to run out for a bit to eat later. How about going?”
She hesitated, then smiled. “You got yourself a dinner partner.”
* * *
Lorraine hadn’t meant to stay out past six, but the time had gotten away from her. After dinner, they’d gone to Charleston Harbor and watched the cruise ships dock.
“Sorry, I kept you out so late,” Thomas said, pulling to a stop in front of her house. “You want me to go in with you?”
“No, thank you.” She had called Hamilton when she’d noticed the time. Unbuckling her seat belt, she got out of the Navigator and hurried up the walkway. Hamilton jerked open the door just as she reached for the knob. His angry gaze went from her to the black SUV still parked at the curb, then his gaze flicked back to her. Without a word, he turned and walked away. Disheartened, Lorraine turned and waved to Thomas, then watched him drive away, almost wishing she could go with him.
* * *
He’d rehearsed what he planned to say, but somehow when John heard Brooke’s voice over the phone Sunday night he went blank for a few seconds.
“Hello?”
“Ah, hi, Brooke. It’s John.”
“I’m rather busy at the moment,” she said a bit impatiently.
She had a man there with her, he knew it. Cutting a glance at the kitchen door, John walked out into the backyard. Mark and Amy were watching The Lion King for the thousandth time and should be all right. “I’m sorry about last night. Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night?”
