Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  First up, call Ava and get a time to affirm her measurements. It was time to order her suit. Next, draft a letter to Phil giving notice for Wenstry’s. He wouldn’t be in today, but first thing Monday was better than four o’clock. Third and final, before getting to work on time, talk to Thorne or his answering machine and find a time that would work for that dinner and discussion.

  Ava could see her this afternoon which didn’t work, or Tuesday morning. She’d have to fit it in before heading to the casino. The resignation letter was awkward and felt fumbling to read. She’d never written one before. She had been tempted to terminate her employment at the end of the month, but since it was the twentieth now, that was only a week. Even though he wouldn’t get it until Monday, Maggie made her last day two weeks from today, August third. That Monday would be August fifth and she’d want that day off just in case. Counting today, she’d have five more shifts. It hardly seemed worth giving notice for. She did the right thing anyway, her father would have insisted.

  Calling Thorne was harder. She started dialing and hung up several times before finishing the sequence and waiting. By the third ring she knew she was getting the machine and relaxed before the beep sounded.

  “Thorne, it’s Maggie. We really need to find a time. This phone tag is crazy. You’re it now by the way. I have tomorrow or late Monday then I’m swamped again for another week. Let me know what works.”

  Her list done and over an hour before she needed to be to work, Maggie grabbed her keys and took off for Mary Lou’s. The little diner near the old apartment had the best biscuits and gravy in or around the city. She was famished and ordered two at the counter with eggs and a coke. None of it was part of her eating plan but as she sank into the first bite, she didn’t care.

  ‘Walkin’ on sunshine...’

  Jade knew the moment Maggie put the envelope on Phil’s desk what was going on. The startled shout down erupted.

  “You bitch! You’re leaving me here.”

  “No, I’m not leaving you.”

  “So that’s not a resignation?”

  “Yes, but I’m not leaving you. Besides, you know where to find me.”

  “Uh-huh. At the casino Ms. I’m a fancy showgirl.”

  Maggie took Jade by the shoulders and shook her.

  “Listen to me. Everything with my mom is wrapping up. I need to figure out where I’m going and finally will have a little flexibility to do it. And I didn’t mean the casino dimbo, I meant my apartment.”

  “Wait, so you’re not at the casino either? I didn’t even get to see you in a show yet.”

  Maggie smacked her own forehead.

  “Leave it to you to latch onto that. Yes, I’m at the casino, but I don’t know how long I’ll be there either. It’s good money but it’s not where I want to be forever. I have plans and dreams and I’m not getting younger here.”

  Jade was pouting. Maggie had guessed at what her reaction would be. She reached into her bag and withdrew a narrow ‘to go’ box with a biscuit and gravy. Jade’s eyes went wide.

  “Oh. My. God! Is that Mary Lou’s? You didn’t? Did you? Please say you did.”

  Maggie pulled it back just out of reach.

  “Say I’m forgiven.”

  Jade looked from the box to Maggie’s grinning face waving her hands in the air.

  “Old news, yeah-yeah, forgiven, whatever. Gimme!”

  Maggie laughed and started tagging while Jade moaned at the offering, talking with her mouth full.

  “Who’s unna bring me arry ous when you eave?”

  Maggie rolled her eyes.

  “What? You mean I can’t if I’m not coming to tag with you in the Saturday hazmat suit?”

  Jade chewed and considered it, swallowing this time before speaking.

  “I guess you could. Hey, maybe you could even be here before noon.”

  Maggie roared. “Don’t push it chickie.”

  JADE CLOCKED OUT ON time but lingered after since she’d taken time to eat the peace offering. She jumped up and had to go when Mr. Markley’s bag hit the table. Maggie smirked, donned the suit and got to work. Figures.

  She stayed busy until close, cleaning and straightening when she finished all the bags. Looking up she ticked off the counter in her mind. Four more to go. She wasn’t even upset that Ms. Eldeiress’ bag hadn’t been in the pile.

  She stopped and picked up a roast chicken at the market, grabbing a bottle of pink something Arbor Mist at the check-out. Never having bought wine, she figured there was no reason to bother looking, she didn’t know one from another. The wine, like the breakfast, was not on the eating plan. She’d begin again tomorrow.

  The last thirty-six hours had been cram-packed with life changing events and decisions. If there was a night to drink and forget for a bit, this might be it. The only other time she’d had wine had been a cousin’s wedding when she and another had snagged up and drank the unused glasses for the toast. That night was a mental blur to this day.

  She tossed a potato in the microwave and a couple strips of bacon into a skillet before hitting play on the answering machine for one message, Thorne. He sounded happy.

  ‘Maggie sweet, Sunday and Monday, even later are both out for me this week. I have Friday open or the following Monday maybe. I’ll hold both until noon tomorrow if you can make one work. I think this makes you “it” now.’

  Maggie grabbed the handset and punched redial after flipping the bacon. Not surprisingly she got voice mail again.

  “It’s me. Friday or Monday is fine. Your choice, my treat. Let me know which. Neener-neener. Not it now.”

  She flipped the ringer ‘off’ as she set the phone down. She panicked for a minute realizing she didn’t have a bottle opener until she spied the screw top on the wine. She poured a generous glass of something called ‘Zinfandel’ and pulled the bacon off to drain.

  She layered the bacon with cheese onto the potato and put it back in the microwave while she de-boned the chicken. When the timer went off, she took a generous helping of chicken and piled it next to the potato before covering both with sweet barbeque sauce. She took a long drink of the wine, topped off the glass and took it with her plate to the table.

  Sitting down, ‘go big or go home’ ran through her mind. As she closed her mouth and experienced that first perfect bite of all the flavors she amended her thoughts, ‘too many days eating like this and I’ll be as big as a house.’ She sipped the wine now and took the time to go through the last two days and put each piece away.

  Some pieces were bigger than others because they were lifetime things. For now, each part would have to play out. Some things she could influence but not everything. That was frightening. As she enjoyed her calorie laden meal, she decided that this would be the last. Rae Rose was right. She couldn’t let her fear rob her of her future and not just as a showgirl. It was okay to feel it, but it could not make the decisions. From now on, fear or not, Maggie was calling her shots and taking every one.

  Finishing her meal, she refilled her glass, draining the bottle as she put everything else away. It was one of those blank stare, flashbulb, ‘I totally forgot about that’ moments when it occurred to her that this night, like another months before, was pivotal. Like that night, she got her now seldom used journal and favorite pen from her bedroom and plunked on the sectional before scrawling a one line cryptic missive.

  Good bye Norma Jean.

  ‘Fancy don’t let me down...’

  Shopping for dinner with Thorne had played havoc on Maggie’s nerves. She had no idea where they were going. Glancing at her reflection in the Cheval in the corner, she hoped she had chosen well. She had said it was her treat, and she intended it to be, but she’d left the choice to him. He had given no clues, only said, ‘semi-formal’. What that translated to eluded her completely.

  Late July evenings were still often muggy from the heat of the day. She tried to choose accordingly. She had finally settled on a layered sheer, three-quarter length handkerchief hem
skirt in melon paired with a sleeveless shell in a flesh tone. She had a long throw scarf in a shade near the skirt that draped behind her, hanging from her elbows and nude peep-toe pumps which she had painted her toenails to wear.

  A low ponytail, the diamond stud earrings from graduation, and a set of plain gold bangles completed her look. She was still fidgeting with the pieces when the buzzer announced time was up. Thorne was here.

  Opening the door was all the affirmation she needed when ‘Wow’ was the only word that came from his lips for a full minute. Dressed in a suit that had obviously been tailored to fit him, she was fighting to say more than ‘wow’ herself. He gave her a peck on the cheek and stepped back after clearing the doorway.

  “Turn around.”

  Maggie buried the giddy grin and turned a slow circle with her arms out. A long low whistle started as she faced away, not ending until she was back where she had started.

  “Is this okay for our destination?”

  Thorne winked and grinned.

  “I think I might be underdressed to walk in with you. You clean up good.”

  She play-swatted at his shoulder, “I’m serious.”

  He nodded. “So am I. You are stunning.”

  He put a finger to his lips thinking a moment before continuing.

  “Actually, I think I have a different place in mind if we can get a table. This place however, will be my treat to you.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to object. He held up a finger to stop her.

  “You looking like this is already a treat for me.”

  Maggie scoffed. “And you aren’t a treat for me all duded up? Pfft. How about we go ‘Dutch’ then and be each other’s treats?”

  Thorne growled.

  “As tempting as you make that sound, no.” He paused. “You do know the English would say ‘Dutch treat’ as an insult right? They thought the Dutch were cheap and tasteless?”

  Maggie’s mouth hung open for a minute before she regained her composure to respond.

  “No, I did not know that. Nor, was that what I meant at all.”

  He smiled. “I did not think that was what you meant. I further didn’t believe you knew what it was that you were saying, or at least where it came from.”

  Maggie ground her back teeth together deciding she would agree until the bill came. She wanted to get her question on the table, but she needed the table there to put it on.

  “Fine.”

  Thorne beamed obviously thinking he’d won.

  Grabbing her clutch and keys, she thought to herself that her poker face was getting better as she locked the door behind them and they headed out.

  Thirty minutes later through downtown traffic, she stepped out into the fresh air as the valet opened the door to the black on black carriage, liberating her from the leather. The sign said ‘Acadia’. The valet’s ‘Good to see you again’ didn’t escape her as Thorne handed over the car keys.

  He proffered his left arm to escort her from the curb but did not take it back to greet Mitchell the Maître D with a handshake, only a “Chances of a table for two?”

  Mitchell glanced at her, nodding before responding.

  “Of course Mr. DuFoe. Acadia will always have a table for you. Just a moment.”

  He was off and back before Maggie could decide which question to ask first and they were escorted in.

  Their table was tucked into a corner near the glass water wall. The sound was ambient and soothing without being overpowering or creating the urge to use the washroom like others she had encountered. Even though the restaurant was busy, the tables nearest them were empty. For the conversation she wanted to have it was ideal. Thorne held her chair out for her before seating himself and addressing her directly.

  “Will this be okay?”

  Maggie’s ‘It’s lovely.’ was genuine as was her smile. She kept her questions to herself for just a bit, refining them to pin point what she wanted to know.

  A server appeared with a wine list and started to present it to her. Maggie accepted it but left it closed. Thorne asked for a few moments at which the server moved away.

  “Do you want to pick a wine?” he finally asked.

  “Thorne, I’m afraid you’ve exposed my disadvantage. I seldom drink. This list will mean nothing to me.”

  His confusion at her hesitation changed to a smile and soft laugh as she explained.

  “I’m sorry. It hadn’t occurred to me. You have no idea, red or white either then do you?”

  Maggie grimaced. “No inkling. Order what you like, I’ll try it. There’s water on the table either way.”

  Thorne laughed and signaled the server. He ordered a bottle of the 2009 Mas Des Bressades Costieres Des Nimes, a Charcuterie and a Foie Gras Gatea, explaining after the server left it was a Cabernet/Syrah blend wine and two appetizer samplers.

  Maggie eyed the menu briefly before setting it aside.

  “Does anything grab your fancy?” he asked.

  She smirked. “To be truthful Thorne, as you know, I don’t dine out, which is why I let you choose. I recognize ingredients in all of the dishes, but the combinations escape me or my ‘fancy’ as you put it.”

  He grinned wide, obviously content with her straight-forward assessment.

  “We can go elsewhere after the wine and appetizers if you would prefer.”

  It was Maggie’s turn to hold up a finger to silence him. She rather enjoyed the action and his responding silence.

  “No. I said it was your choice and my treat. You obviously like it here as they know you. And, as you ordered without the benefit of the wine list or menu, you have things you prefer. We’ll stay. I will however insist that you order for me. Keep in mind I am trusting you not to order brains or something of the like. Do we have an agreement?”

  Thorne’s lips mashed tight to stave the loud burst of laughter that was bubbling beneath the surface and dancing in his eyes. He retreated to formal before he replied.

  “As you wish Margaret.”

  The wine came and was served with the appetizers. If she had any worry about killing her eating plan a second Friday in a row, the thoughts were dashed at the appearance of the bite sized samples scattered on the oversized plate. Thorne ordered something called Cobia and Indiana Duck Ham for their entrees and they were alone again.

  The wine was a bit dry but not bitter like she feared it might be. It was marginally better after bites of whatever she was trying. Thorne had placed the plates between them, pointing out different things to try. She managed not to have to spit anything out, but there were a couple that had taken great effort to get down. The fare was a far cry from barbequed chicken with bacon and cheese.

  Conversation was polite but general until the entrees. The Duck Ham was in front of her. In front of him was something with seafood. Without taking a bite or asking a question, she picked up both dishes and switched them. His mouth dropped open.

  “That dish has rye. I’d like to enjoy our evening. The ER is not part of the plan.”

  He closed his mouth, nodded and dug in, taking several bites before pausing to talk.

  “I guess food allergies or sensitivities would have been a good preliminary conversation.”

  Maggie smiled after swallowing.

  “For what we actually know about each other, yes probably. But really? Who cooks with rye besides bread and liquor? Luckily, I could smell it.”

  He nodded. “Lucky indeed. You know, depending on where we go from here, things like that would be important to know.”

  It was her turn to nod.

  “Yes. That’s true. I’ve given it a great deal of thought though,” Thorne paused with his next fork full half way to his lips. He set it down to listen. “it won’t be a tripping point. I cannot take that path. And, I don’t see it down the road either. I want more.”

  He was listening carefully. His emotions were shut off. His face gave no indication of what he was thinking. The stayed bite was taken and swallowed before he responded.
/>   A wicked gleam sparked in his eye for the briefest moment.

  “Are you certain? You know you’ve only had a taste. A sample.” He twirled the fork in the air to emphasize his point.

  Maggie smirked at his baiting. She took a second to remember she was determined. He was so good at making her lose sight of her goals.

  “Yes Thorne. Final answer.”

  The server appeared. Thorne was going to order again but hesitated.

  “Can you eat black walnuts?”

  “Ye-es.” Was her stuttered answer.

  He held up two fingers and the server was gone. Maggie was perplexed when he didn’t elaborate.

  “Care to share?”

  He grinned wide. “No actually, I don’t, which is why I ordered two.”

  Maggie giggled shaking her head. “Good to know.”

  Something chocolate was delivered next with a scoop of ice cream, black walnut ice cream. She tasted the chocolate thing. It was cake and it was pudding. Either or, it was rich. She set it aside and opted for the ice cream which was a creamy bliss all by itself.

  A few bites before the end, Maggie mustered up the courage to ask her question, waiting for him to be on a bite so he wouldn’t cut her off.

  “I want to be what you are, and I’d like you to teach me.”

  He spluttered but recovered quickly, speaking softly.

  “Say that again. You what?”

  She looked him square in the eye. “I want to be a Dom and I want you to teach me.”

  He set his spoon down, blinked twice, took a long sip of wine shaking his head blinking again.

  “That’s what I thought you said.”

  ‘Name your price...’

  The server was back whisking away the dishes after refilling both glasses, taking the now empty bottle away as well. Thorne looked up just as he was ready to make his departure with the laden tray. Thorne nodded. The server nodded back. Maggie nodded too not to be left out though she had no idea what it was all for but neither man was looking at her.