Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire)

by Simmons, NC

  “Would you care to talk to me about whatever it is that is bothering you Mr. St. Cloud? I mean… Rory.”

  “Lenore, as long as you keep calling me Rory, I will gladly share my deepest secrets with you.”

  Lenore experienced a vivid premonition. A colorful panorama flashed before her eyes, of a storybook landscape with hundreds of wedding guests seated along a stair stepped, sloping hillside. Dressed in a vivid white, strapless Shalamar wedding gown, Lenore paced down a white-carpeted aisle to a large, stone altar. A 20-piece orchestra swelled. Before her, Lena awaited Lenore’s arrival at the altar, standing in her appointed place, glowing and resplendent as Lenore’s maid of honor in a baby blue, off-the-shoulder, bridesmaid gown.

  Rory, the tuxedoed groom in tails, smiled at her approach.

  The image evaporated. Lenore shivered.

  Lena sheltered and nurtured Lenore’s needy, evil soul for seven years. The Wild Child endured seduction upon seduction as Lenore selfishly supped on her roommate’s heart. Lenore wanted nobody but Lena throughout.

  And yet… Lenore’s spirit soared next to Rory. She felt an immediate sense of permanence and belonging as she looked into his forlorn eyes. Rory unwittingly elbowed Lena to the side.

  Lenore slogged through her turmoil, eager to erase Rory’s pain. “Rory… Please… Tell me what is on your mind.”

  Rory fell into Lenore’s eyes. He misted. “Lenore… I don’t know why I’m here! I shouldn’t be here! I can’t believe I'm burdening you like this. You don’t even know me. I’m stealing your evening and dumping my problems on your shoulders. This is completely improper. I can’t do this to you.”

  Rory attempted to pull away. Lenore pulled herself closer to his side, no longer caring about the appearance of her advance or the rumors it would fuel in gossip pages the next day.

  “Rory… Before you worry about what you should or should not do, may I ask you one question?”

  “Yes…?”

  “Do you… Do you believe… In fate?”

  Rory nodded and smiled. He felt it. He sensed what was happening. His heart was coming under new management. “Yes, Lenore. I suppose I do. Why do you ask?”

  Lenore agonized, feeling unshakable attraction for the man with the tortured heart, yet not wishing to appear too forward. She chose, as she always did, to embrace instinct over intellect.

  “I believe… I believe I was meant to be here for you, Rory. Do you feel it? Please tell me you feel it.”

  Lenore held her breath, anticipating certain humiliation. Time passed in excruciating silence as Rory slaked his emptiness on Lenore’s mystical amber-brown eyes. He pulled Lenore closer.

  “Yes, Lenore, I think I do feel what you feel. Don’t ask me to describe it, but yes… I think fate had something to do with us meeting at exactly this place and time.”

  Lenore exhaled. “Then Rory, before you presume to choose what is a burden to me, why not share it? Let me be the judge of whether it is too great a burden to bear. I am a big girl. I promise, if you ask too much of me, I will throw off my shoes and race for the door.”

  Lenore grinned hopefully at Rory, giving him permission to laugh at the image of the former runway model speeding away from the handsome, eligible billionaire. “Tell me, Rory. Please. No matter what it is. I am prepared.”

  Rory released a slow, cleansing breath and spoke in a whisper. “Someone... Someone very dear to me… Has just passed away.”

  Lenore clapped her free hand to her mouth, fighting tears. “Oh my God! Rory! I am so sorry! No wonder you seemed so sad when we met! Who? What happened?”

  Rory turned again to the window, knowing that to stay with Lenore’s miring eyes would nudge him over the edge. “It was a woman I once loved. Once… Many years ago... I believed I would marry her.”

  Lenore shook her head, struggling to put her dirt-mining instincts into a safely locked place. “Oh Rory… I… I am so sorry! I… I do not know what to say!”

  A practical thought struck Lenore. Lena! It worked once with Lena! After Lenore promised Lena she would leave the tub, the Wild Child let loose.

  “Rory… I want you to know something… I once told someone I love very much, someone who carried a burden I could not lift, that I would stay right by her side for as long as it took to help her find the peace she sought. I know you and I do not know each other… And I know you have no reason to trust me when I say this… But I am prepared to stay by your side for as long as it takes to help you feel peace. Will you please let me help you?”

  Tears welled in Rory’s eyes. “Lenore, I can’t do this to you. I hear you and… I so appreciate what you’re saying, but I… I can’t do this to you. It feels too sudden. Too selfish.”

  Lenore turned Rory to face her. She risked a too-familiar move, cradling Rory’s face in her palms and offering reassurance. “Rory St. Cloud… I am not leaving you like this, do you hear me? I am not leaving you until I know I have helped you face this… This tragedy. Do not shut me out because you fear inconveniencing me or do not know me. Beneath this façade I am nothing but a confused little girl playing dress up. I am no more prepared to deal with this than you are, Rory. But I believe fate brought me to you to share your pain. Let me help, Rory. Please!”

  Rory put his hands on either side of Lenore’s shoulders, gently running them up and down her sensuous, bare arms. She continued her gloved caress of his face. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

  “What was her name, Rory? Start there. Just tell me her name.”

  Rory could no longer hold back his tears. He removed his hands from Lenore’s shoulders, took out a handkerchief, and blotted his eyes. “Lenore… Before we do this, is there somewhere else we might go? I really don’t want the rest of the party to see me like this.”

  Rummaging through her options, Lenore chose a note of humor to flavor a richly practical solution. “Well… I do not think this is an appropriate time to say, ‘Your place or mine,’ but my apartment is only blocks from here. My roommate is home tonight, so it might be a safe place to go if a little extra company will help.”

  “Oh, Lenore… I don’t want to burden two of you!”

  “Rory, please trust me. Once you meet my roommate, you will not consider it a burden at all. Neither will she. My roommate is the most wonderfully loving and sensitive woman on the planet. We share everything in life. Every happiness… Every sorrow... Everything.”

  “You mean she’s even more sensitive than you?”

  “Oh, Rory… She gives me my sensitivity!” Lenore laughed.

  “Are you certain, Lenore? Are you really prepared for this?”

  Lenore placed her palm on Rory’s cheek, lightly stroking it as if they had been lovers for a lifetime twice over. “I assure you, Rory… I know exactly what I am doing.”

  Lenore pulled her hand away, took her clutch from under her arm, and snapped it open, rummaging for her checkbook. “Come with me, Rory! I will write John a check and that ought to make our early exit a little more palatable. $10,000 should be sufficient.”

  Rory gently pushed the checkbook back into the clutch. “Lenore… Don’t worry about the check. I’ll take care of John. The fact that he brought you to me tonight is well worth it for me to make his event a rousing success.”

  “Well… Why don’t we both give him a check? That would be less of a burden on you, would it not?”

  Rory laughed. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

  “I know you own a successful advertising agency. Why?”

  “Oh Lenore…” Rory smiled and shook his head. “We have a lot to talk about on the way to your apartment.” Rory patted Lenore’s shoulder. “Wait here a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Rory left Lenore standing by the window and headed across the room toward John Sizemore, winding his way past woman after woman, all beautiful, all eager to divert his attention. He pursued his mission doggedly, nodding and smiling toward those calling his name while staying focused on reaching the host wi
th as little distraction as possible.

  From her post by the window, the budding jury consultant observed their conversation and body language. The tall advertising executive rested his hand on the shorter attorney’s shoulder and leaned into his ear. He spoke for several moments, whispering to the senior partner. Sizemore’s eyes widened, looking upward at the brand-maker, his mouth agape. Rory reached into his jacket and withdrew his checkbook.

  Lenore attempted to read Rory’s lips as he opened the checkbook, but he again leaned down and whispered his offer to the attorney. In a daze, Sizemore turned, letting Rory use his back as a writing surface. Rory removed the check, folded it, and tucked it into the stunned host’s inside jacket pocket. Sizemore grabbed Rory by both arms and bear hugged the young executive.

  Rory laughed, accepted the hug, patted Sizemore’s back, and said his polite goodbyes to the senior partner. As Rory moved away, Sizemore withdrew the check from his pocket. He stared blankly at it, his wife coming to his side to see if there was some kind of problem. She took the check, scanned it, and screamed, jumping up and down like a boy band groupie.

  Rory cut through wave after wave of elegant, eligible, single females on his way back to his fated, semi-lesbian friend. Over the last few yards he locked eyes with Lenore and smiled.

  “I think we can make a quiet exit now, Lenore. I’ve taken care of things with John. He won’t look for you for the rest of the evening. Let's head this way.” Rory extended his arm, offering it to Lenore for a fittingly elegant, surreptitious escape from the benefit. The pair headed through a nearby set of double doors and down the outer hallway toward the elevators.

  “Rory, what did you say to John that he would so willingly let me go? You said it yourself. He considers me his ‘secret weapon.’ He is passing up many potential referrals by allowing me to leave.”

  “John is a man who understands a fair bargain.”

  “And what kind of bargain would involve John releasing me for the evening when he stands to gain so much by holding me captive?”

  “It was nothing, really. I told him I was not feeling well and you graciously agreed to escort me home. To make up for your absence I wrote him a check.”

  Lenore looked up at Rory. He stared straight ahead. She sensed there was much more than just a “check” involved in order for John Sizemore to offer Rory a bear hug in thanks.

  “And precisely what size check did you write, Rory?”

  “Not much. It’s a worthy charity. I was glad to help.”

  The attorney refused to let her escort escape the witness stand unscathed. “Rory. The check. How much?”

  Rory laughed and glanced down at his female companion. “You don’t release your prey once you smell blood, do you?”

  “I am an attorney, Rory. I never let go until I have an answer. Now, how much was the check?

  “Two million.”

  Lenore gasped. “Dollars?”

  “Well I don’t usually write my checks in pesos.”

  They arrived at the elevator. Rory pressed the down button and stood silently, facing the doors. Still hooked on his elbow, Lenore glanced up out of the corner of her eye. A smirk pursed his lips.

  Lenore wiped astonishment from her face and stared at the elevator door, instantly conscious that advertising alone would not offer the ultra-desirable Mr. St. Cloud the ability to write a two million dollar check to Sizemore & Horst’s favorite charity.

  “Well is that all,” she said, a deliberately unfazed tone in her voice. ”The way he reacted I thought it might have been for ten million.”

  Rory laughed, his eyes fixed on the floor indicator. “Would you like me to go back and up the ante? I could easily do ten million if you think it would be more appropriate.”

  Rory turned away from the indicator as the door opened and looked at the side of Lenore’s exotic face. He scanned every flawless, lovely inch, his obsession burrowing deep as the seconds flew by.

  Teasing Rory with artificial aloofness, Lenore stared at the back wall of the elevator. She hinted a smirk of her own. “No, darling, I think two million ought to keep John happy for quite some time to come.”

  She looked up at Rory, grinning ear to ear. “I just hope I’m worth it, dear.”

  As the doors closed, Rory impulsively spun Lenore and crushed her to his chest. Bending over to kiss her, he asked…

  “Señorita De La Fuente… Do you believe in fate?”

  Twenty One

  “Just one more floor, Rory. We have the top two floors of the building all to ourselves.”

  “Do you always take the stairs, Lenore?” asked the decently conditioned mogul, huffing and puffing like an out-of-breath novice.

  “Oh stop complaining, Rory! It is only 10 floors!”

  “Lenore, are you certain your roommate will be okay with me intruding? What if she has someone over for the evening?”

  “Trust me, dear. She will almost certainly be alone and she will be absolutely fine with you joining us.”

  “Well, will you at least tell me who she is? Why are you being so secretive?”

  Lenore placed the key into the apartment door. “Oh… I just want to see the look on both of your faces.” Lenore opened the door, sing-songing her introduction for her roommate. “Leeeee-na! Oh Wiiiild Child! I am ho-ome!”

  Off to the left and out of sight somewhere in the kitchen, Lena shouted back. “So soon? What happened, Freaky? I figured you wouldn’t be back for hours?”

  Lenore heard Lena’s voice coming closer and she put a finger up to her lips, shushing Rory into silence. “Oh, it was such a boring event, dear. Every man I met just wanted to get me into bed.” Lenore quietly snickered and winked at Rory. “I would much rather stay in with you tonight, Wild Child.”

  Lenore dropped her clutch on the table by the door and tossed her keys into the porcelain container nearby, creating a characteristic jingle that signaled “all clear” to Lena.

  “Well then, maybe you’ll want to cuddle up with me on the couch and share a nice, big bowl of this amazing concoction!”

  Lena entered the room with her head down over the bowl, shoveling a huge spoonful of yogurt into her mouth.

  She was naked. (Yup. The Wild Child was a natural brunette, alright.)

  “You HAVE to try this stuff, Freaky! I mean… It’s amazing! All I did was take some vanilla yogurt, I threw in some corn flakes, and then I added some...

  Lena looked up, assailed by the sight of a robust, tuxedo-clad, slab of billionaire beef standing in her living room.

  “…honey…

  “Oh…

  “My…

  “GOD!”

  “Lena, dear,” Lenore giggled, “I would like to introduce you to Rory St. Cloud.”

  Lena stood frozen, spoon in mid-lift, yogurty, corn-flakey goodness dripping back into the bowl. “Hoh-ly shit…”

  Seeing the former tennis phenom and rocketing attorney in the buff, Rory grinned and chuckled, refraining from an all-out belly laugh. “Good evening, Ms. Sardi. Now I understand why Lenore wanted to surprise me with the identity of her roommate.”

  “Oh shit! HOLY SHIT, Lenore! That’s… THAT’S RORY ST. CLOUD!” Lena pointed at Rory with her spoon full of yogurt, corn flake confection slipping to the floor with a splash. “YOU’RE… YOU'RE RORY ST. CLOUD! Lenore! That’s Rory St. Cloud! Rory St. Cloud is in our living room!!! HOLY SHIT!!!”

  Lenore laughed hard and hearty, pointing at Lena’s nakedness. “And you, my beautiful Wild Child, are quite under-dressed for the occasion!”

  Lena glanced down. Instantly mortified by her nudity, she sped toward the bedroom screaming, slamming the door behind her.

  Rory laughed uncontrollably and stumbled to his knees. “MY GOD, Lenore! Lena Sardi? SHE’S your roommate? You live with Lena Sardi! That’s AMAZING!”

  Lenore staggered to the couch and fell backward over the armrest, rolling back and forth, hysterical over Lena’s ill-timed, au naturale dining. “Yes, dear, THAT is my beautiful Wil
d Child! We have been together for more than seven years, since our very first day at Paulson.

  Rory glanced around the apartment to get the lay of the land. Still laughing at Lena’s mortification, he casually tossed his jacket onto the coat rack near the front door. He loosened his bow tie and strolled over to a large, brown leather chair opposite the sofa.

  “WOW! She’s quite a stunner, isn’t she?”

  “Oh Rory… Stunning does not begin to describe my beautiful Wild Child!”

  Still laughing, Lenore rose from the couch and walked toward the bedroom. “I better go see how she is holding up. I do not think I have ever seen her move quite that quickly, on OR off the court!”

  Lenore flourished toward the kitchen. “Make yourself at home, darling. We have water and juices in the refrigerator, there is coffee and tea in the cupboard, and there is a wine locker next to the kitchen. Just whip up something appropriate, will you? I will be back soon.”

  “Take your time, Lenore, this is already more fun than I’ve had in many, many months!”

  Lenore knocked on the door to the bedroom, announcing her entrance to the barefoot contessa. She opened the door a crack. The room inside was pitch black.

  “Lena? Lena, dear, are you okay in here?” Lenore flipped on the light switch.

  “Shut the damned door, Lenore!”

  Lenore looked around the room, seeing no one. “Where are you?”

  “SHUT THE GODDAMNED DOOR!”

  “Okay, okay! I shut the door! Where are you?”

  “Over here… on the floor beside the bed.”

  Lenore looked but saw nothing.

  “The other side, you stupid supermodel!”

  Lenore walked to the other side of the bed and found Lena curled up in a ball on the floor, clutching her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth. “Lena! What is wrong? Why are you all balled up like this?”

  Lena glared at the dense diva. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Lena thrust out her hand, pointing at the bedroom door. “You brought billionaire Rory St. Cloud home, you marched him into our apartment, you didn’t give me any warning, I showed up naked with a bowl of yogurt, and now you want to know what’s wrong?