A Matter of Trust

by Radclyffe

  "You'd better check in with her tomorrow and the next day to make sure she hasn't run into any difficulties. Let her know that you'll be available day or night if something comes up." Sloan wouldn't rest easy until Michael's deadlines had come and gone uneventfully. Although they didn't have any proof yet, and most likely never would, she felt pretty certain that Michael's husband had been behind the recent attempt to sabotage the system, and she was worried he might try again.

  Jason shifted his concentration from the monitor, studying her curiously. "If there some reason you won't be calling her? That is your department, the troubleshooting. After this weekend, I'll be more than happy to get back to the office. I don't mind backing you up in an emergency, but the business end of things is easier on my social life."

  Her expression was unreadable and her violet eyes so dark they approached black. "Just do it, please, Jason," she said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, if anything, about Michael. She hadn't expected last night to ever happen, and she surely had not anticipated her reaction to it. She had learned to accept the comfort of another in her bed as a momentary surcease from loneliness and a temporary antidote to isolation, but she never again expected to be really touched by someone. That had been just fine, because she never again wanted to be vulnerable to the vagaries of another's affections. But Michael, Michael was different. She was so genuine and open and so totally without guile that Sloan found herself caring about her before she realized it was happening. Michael had reached in and touched her heart before she could stop her. And now the places Michael had touched ached for her. Sloan flinched without meaning to, and tried to put Michael from her mind. "I'll leave you to finish up."

  Jason wanted to say more, but there was something about her expression that warned him off. Usually, he did not hesitate to take Sloan to task for what he considered her uncivilized behavior in personal relationships. As much as she knew about his past, he knew about hers. They had shared each other's betrayal as well as their nearly simultaneous professional discrediting. They almost never spoke of it, but he knew first hand how long the pain could linger. Whatever the situation with Michael, he had a feeling it was far more serious than Sloan wanted to admit. This time, he sensed her still unhealed wounds very near the surface. Her eyes were haunted with old hurts.

  Until a short time ago he would have agreed with her reluctance to become seriously involved, to take that risk again. But meeting Sarah had changed everything about how he viewed matters of the heart. Sarah was teaching him that it was possible to be safe, even while exposing his deepest secrets. Even though he hadn't been ready last night for sex, and had worried that his reluctance would be seen as rejection, Sarah had understood even that. He had found a note that Sarah had left with his car keys on her way out of his apartment. She had written: "Ask Jasmine if she'll go out dancing with me Friday night."

  It had taken Sarah and her singular sensitivity to lead him to the point of trust. It didn't seem so impossible to him now that someone could do the same for Sloan. In fact, having watched Michael and Sloan together over the past weeks, he had seen an entirely different Sloan when she was around Michael. There was a tenderness and vulnerability about her that he had never seen before. It was almost as if Michael, without even realizing it, had awakened those parts of Sloan that she had kept hidden from everyone, including herself.

  "Sloan?"

  Sloan turned at the door and looked back, a question on her face.

  "Michael will wonder why you don't call," he said, unwilling to let her go without trying to change her mind. Loneliness was a heartless companion. He knew.

  She stared at him, wondering if by some strange sixth sense, he knew just how significant that statement was. She wasn’t thinking about business, but the night that she and Michael had shared as she answered quietly, "I know, Jason. But maybe it's the best thing."

  * * *

  When, after five minutes, Sarah had managed to land two respectable blows solidly on Sloan's jaw as well as executing a leg sweep that knocked her definitively on her ass, Sarah stepped back out of fighting range, dropped her hands and stared at her friend.

  "Would you like to tell me where your mind is?"

  Sloan shook her head, getting slowly to her feet. "It's nothing. Come on, let's spar."

  It was Sarah's turn to shake her head no. "Sloan, you know how much I love an opportunity to beat up on you, but it's no fun when you're defenseless. What's wrong?"

  Sloan's first impulse was to deny any problem. She didn't want to think about anything, let alone try to explain her state of mind to Sarah. Sarah was too damn perceptive and too damn persistent to let anything go. The moment Sarah noticed the slightest bit of inconsistency or evasiveness, she patiently worked away at it until the whole damn barricade fell, and every secret you ever had was laid bare for her inspection. Granted, she had always been kind and usually gave Sloan just the support she needed, but this was one time Sloan did not want to hear what Sarah had to say.

  "If you don't want to spar, let's just lift for a while," Sloan grumbled, turning toward the door that led into the weight room. She was surprised when she felt Sarah's hand on her arm, restraining her gently. She sighed and looked over her shoulder at her friend. Sarah's eyes were affectionate and reassuring.

  "Come on Sloan. I know damn well something's going on, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is. It's Wednesday night, and you haven't been into the office all week. Jason told me this morning that you've been AWOL since Sunday afternoon. Want to tell me what's going on?"

  "Not especially. Do I have a choice?" Sloan said more sharply than she intended.

  "You always have a choice, but sometimes you're too pig-headed and stubborn to see it," Sarah retorted, a slight smile on her face.

  Sloan sighed, crossed to the side of the room and flopped down on a pile of exercise mats that had been stacked along the wall. Sarah joined her and waited expectantly.

  "It's nothing as dramatic as you're imagining," Sloan said at length. "We've been running at a fast pace all spring, and after this last project with Michael, I just wanted a little break." She was amazed that she could mention Michael's name without stumbling, because thinking about Michael made her pulse pound, and saying her name out loud brought a lump to her throat. She had in fact spent the better part of three days trying not to think about her. That had been largely unsuccessful, since there were only so many things she could find to occupy her mind, and even then her concentration was sketchy. At least a dozen times an hour she would find herself glancing at the clock, wondering if Michael were in a meeting, and how her project presentations were going, and whether or not Jeremy had appeared on the scene to cause more problems. At least twice an hour she would find herself with the phone in her hand, ready to call Jason for an update. Each time she had gently placed the phone back in its cradle, realizing that if she took one step in Michael's direction, she would not be able to stop. And she wasn't sure that was a good idea at all. The problem was, she wasn't sure of anything, and that was as confusing to her as anything else that had happened since meeting Michael. She ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes.

  "Uh huh," Sarah responded agreeably, choosing not to comment on Sloan's obvious distress. "A break. I could buy that if it were anyone but you. I can't remember the last time you voluntarily took a break. Does this have to do with Michael?"

  Sloan sighed. "Most of it."

  "Look Sloan, I'm not trying to pry into your personal life, it's just that I really care about you and Michael. You're one of my oldest friends, and I've loved you for a long time. I haven't known Michael very long at all, but it's easy to care about her. Sometimes when you become involved so quickly with someone, especially during a crisis, you get to know them better than people you've known for years. If it makes it any easier, I already know that you slept with her."

  Sloan looked at her quickly. "Michael told you?"

  "She didn't have
to," Sarah said with a soft laugh. "It was pretty obvious that something major had happened to her, and I guessed. She has feelings for you, Sloan, and I have a suspicion that it's reciprocal."

  "That's the problem," Sloan said. "She's not like the other women I’ve been with. She doesn't have any experience with this kind of thing, and I'm afraid --" her voice trailed off, as she tried to analyze what she had been avoiding for so long. What exactly am I afraid of?

  Sarah nudged Sloan's leg with her foot affectionately. "I agree that she's inexperienced, Sloan, but I don't think she's naive. She's an extraordinarily intelligent and successful woman, and she has been remarkably calm during something that would throw most of us completely off balance. She has managed to deal with her husband's threats, and still do the work she's needed to, and handled all of her feelings for you, too. That's an amazing accomplishment, and I think you're doing her a disservice to think she doesn't know exactly what this means."

  When her comments were met with silence, Sarah continued quietly, "Don't try to second guess her, Sloan. I can understand how hard it must be for you to trust her. I know how hard it's been for me, and I haven't experienced the kind of horrible betrayal that you did. But do you plan to spend the rest of your life having casual sex with women you don't really care about?"

  Sloan eyed her angrily, her temper dangerously close to erupting. She was about to object to Sarah's rather harsh characterization when she realized that Sarah had only been stating the truth.

  "Some people aren't meant for relationships," Sloan stated flatly. "I seem to be getting along fine the way things are."

  Sarah nodded. "Maybe you're right, but I don't think so, Sloan. I know you, and I know how tender and caring you can be. If you weren't, I don't believe Michael would have fallen in love with you."

  Sloan started as if struck. "Did she say that?"

  Sarah stood, offering Sloan a hand up. "That's my reading of the situation, but you'll have to ask her. Jason has been on the phone with her several times the last couple of days, checking to make sure she wasn't having any problems. I invited her to go out with Jasmine and I on Friday night. I decided if I were ever going to get Jason to believe I was crazy about him, I'd have to prove it to Jasmine, too. We're all going dancing at Chances. You know where it is, and if you want to know the answer to that question, why not come by and ask her yourself."

  Sloan followed her wordlessly into the weight room, thinking about the cost of dreams and the price of passion.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SLOAN SAT IN her car across the street from Chances, watching Friday night revelers come and go. She had been debating going inside for at least twenty minutes. She knew what the problem was and wasn't particularly proud of herself. If she went inside, she would see Michael. She would have to speak with her, and there was no way that she could see her and talk to her without acknowledging what had happened between them. And once she did that, she would be forced to confront her own feelings. That was the wall that she had run into over and over again for the last six days. Every time she got close to admitting what she felt, something close to terror welled up inside her and threatened to choke her. She recognized it, even understood it, but could not seem to control it.

  There was nothing about Michael that reminded her of Elise. True, they were both successful, highly intelligent, and forceful professionally, but there the similarity ended. Where Elise had been icily sophisticated and emotionally remote, Michael was immensely approachable and amazingly sensitive. She had captured Sloan's attention from the very first, and not long after, her mind and body as well.

  Nevertheless, Sloan was afraid. She was afraid of caring, even though the ache of missing Michael these last few days was worse than any pain she could remember enduring, including the humiliating weekend of incarceration. Still, the rational parts of her mind could not carry her beyond the scars, and now she sat paralyzed. She wanted more than anything to see Michael, yet feared the instant when she looked across the room and knew with certainty that Michael held the keys to her happiness.

  Ultimately, it was something Jason had said just that afternoon that decided her. He had casually mentioned that Sarah and Jasmine had a hot date that evening when Sloan had asked him to bring the semi-annual financial reports up to date for her review.

  "Yes, I know," she had said. Trying to sound only moderately interested she then continued, "Isn't Michael supposed to be going with you?"

  "Last I heard," he answered, maddeningly secretive. "And I hope I won't be doing anything remotely resembling work this weekend."

  Sloan struggled not to ask for details. "How do you feel about Sarah and Jasmine going out?"

  There had been silence for a few seconds, and then Jason's quiet voice replied, "A little scared. But too much of me wants this not to take a chance. Sarah is special, and I don't expect anyone like her to come along again. I can't afford not to trust her."

  Sloan stared across street, knowing that Michael was special too, and believing in her heart that she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't take a chance. She couldn't afford not to.

  As she stepped from the car, she heard someone call her name. She crossed the street looking up and down the crowded sidewalk, her gaze finally finding Diane Carson, who stood waiting for her beside the entrance to the club. Sloan made her way to her, nodding in greeting.

  "Hello, Diane. How are you?"

  Diane Carson smiled ever so slightly and shrugged. "Better than the last time we met. Still looking for Ms. Right, but I haven't made an ass of myself in at least a couple of weeks. I do owe you an apology."

  Sloan shook her head. "No, you don't. I wasn't exactly innocent in the whole deal either. Sometimes it's easy to fool yourself into thinking you have no responsibility for the way other people feel, but I think that might just be a convenient excuse. I'm sorry for the way things turned out, too."

  Diane studied her curiously, surprised by the contemplative tone in her voice. It would be much easier to forget JT Sloan if she weren't so attractive standing there in her black jeans and crisp white shirt, maddeningly sexy in her utter disregard for external trappings. "Sorry enough to give it another try?" Diane said lightly, but resting her hand on Sloan's forearm to convey she was still quite serious. "No strings attached this time. I promise."

  "I don't think that would be a very good idea," Sloan said, knowing that she could never go back to a casual affair. No matter how hard she tried to set boundaries, people still got hurt, and some of that was her responsibility. Beyond that, she knew that after what she had experienced with Michael, nothing would ever reach the places in her that needed to be touched. Michael had awakened those needs, and after their night together, anything else would be an empty charade. She reached for the door, and said, "Can I buy you a drink for old time's sake, though?"

  Diane smiled in gracious defeat and took her arm, saying, "I think one is about my limit these days. But thanks, I accept."

  * * *

  Across the room, Michael saw them come in. After a brief instant of pulse pounding excitement that accompanied her first look at Sloan in six days, her heart plummeted in disappointment. Sloan was with Diane Carson, and now she knew why Sloan hadn't called. The first few times the phone had rung after she and Sloan had been together, she answered with near breathless anticipation, her skin alive with the memory of Sloan's touch. As the days passed her excitement turned to confusion, and finally coalesced into a hard ache of rejection. She had tried to keep busy with meetings and the last-minute details of her projects, and for a while she had been able to relegate her disappointment to the back of her mind. As the week wore on, however, she thought more and more of Sloan. If that weren't bad enough, her entire body seemed to be reacting to their night together in a fashion completely foreign to her. It was as if some hunger, held at bay for years, had suddenly been awakened. Now she was besieged by an almost insatiable need to see Sloan, hear her voice, feel her touch. Michael had to res
train herself from picking up the phone and asking Sloan what the silence meant.

  Michael looked at Sloan standing with Diane and reminded herself that she had practically begged Sloan for the one night they had shared. She had assured Sloan that she knew what she was doing, had promised that one night would be enough. God, how stupid she had been! That one night was like a single drop of rain in the desert. Sweet, sweet torture. And not nearly enough.

  Michael turned away, unable to watch as the stately brunette pressed close to Sloan in the crowd at the bar, draping one hand casually around Sloan's waist as she reached for the drink the bartender offered.

  Michael glanced anxiously over the crowded dance floor for Sarah. She needed to find her, tell her this was a mistake. She couldn't stay here, not with Sloan so near and her own emotions so out of control. It had seemed so harmless when Sarah suggested she go along – something to get her away from the office and out of her hotel room, Sarah had said. Sarah had even hinted that she would appreciate the company on her first 'date' with Jasmine. Michael hadn't considered that being surrounded by women holding other women, dancing with each other, sharing small caresses with each other, would be painful, but it was. Even seeing the first hesitant touches between Sarah and Jasmine had been bittersweet. She had been happy for them, and at the same time acutely aware of her own deep longing for Sloan. She might have managed to contain the pain if Sloan hadn't actually appeared. Now she was afraid her agony would turn to tears.

  Across the room Sloan turned from the bar, beer in hand, and surveyed the dancers. She hadn't been out since first meeting Michael, and she suddenly realized how uninterested she was in the too familiar mating rituals being played out everywhere around her. What had once filled a need now seemed strangely devoid of meaning. She couldn't help thinking that her affairs had only been an excuse to avoid her own despair, to deny just how very much it had hurt. That was one of the things she loved about Michael, how she refused to run from disappointment, no matter how hard it was.