Impulse

by Lass Small

  She tilted her own jaw up sideways and looked at him from under long lashes. “Please, please, Mr. Wolf, don’t eat me up.” Her voice lacked any real conviction.

  He deepened his voice awesomely and replied, “All right, Little Red Riding Hood, but your old grandmother was only skin and bones, and I’m still hungry.”

  “Pooh,” she said as she picked up her makeup kit and deliberately swished her hips as she passed him. She looked back, and he was watching her with a smug smile.

  He looked up to her watching eyes, and he took a long step and swatted her bottom. “That’s what happens to sassy women.”

  “Oh!” she said elaborately surprised. “I was afraid of something else entirely!”

  His green eyes glinted. “That, too.”

  * * *

  She was bending over the lavatory with her face next to the mirror as she put on her mascara when, dressed, he came to lean in the doorway to watch her. She ignored him and continued her makeup.

  Finished, she turned toward him, and he was simply gorgeous in his formal clothing. He said, “You were already perfect.”

  “Will you do this?” She handed him the chain with its lovely pearl.

  “You’re going to wear it?” He was inordinately pleased. “My thrift-shop pearl with that lovely gown?”

  “I think the dress will hide it.”

  “Not that dress.” He clasped the lock and deliberately leaned around her shoulder to watch the pearl slowly slide down into place.

  She tsked her tongue once as if in irritation and complained, “The neck’s too low. The pearl shows. Darn.”

  He dipped his fingers into the neckline, nudging the rounds that met there. “If the chain was a little bit longer, these would keep the pearl polished and glowing.”

  She held the pearl, looking at it. Then she looked up at him and told him, “It’s a beautiful pearl.”

  “So are you.”

  She tilted her head back and considered him. “You’re an awesome man. I wish I’d already had my fill of other men.”

  He almost smiled as he told her confidently, “You have. You just haven’t realized it, yet.”

  “How could I have my fill when you’re my first?”

  He spread his hand openly. “You don’t need any other men. I’m all you need.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  “Carefully.”

  * * *

  The cocktail party was a noisy, laughing, sluggishly moving maelstrom. “So this is the...new ‘cousin.’” The betraying quotes were obvious even in speech.

  Quite boldly Amy said to Chas, “They don’t believe I’m a cousin.” She told him that just to see what he would reply.

  Since he was honest, would he tell the truth and agree with his relatives? She watched his lips as they said, “In good time, they’ll get used to the idea.”

  A tactful nothing reply.

  * * *

  Kenneth came along through the crowd to say, “Hello, Cousin Amy, I’m sure you missed me terribly, especially with this hunk blundering around and embarrassing you with his domineering edicts? You need a calmer man who will allow you some breathin— ”

  It was Chas who interrupted, “That’s enough, Ken, don’t push me. Did you see what’s-his-name?”

  Kenneth said in an aside to Amy, “An excellent example of exactly what I was saying.” He then raised his eyebrows and looked down his nose at Chas. “Yes. I saw Martin Durwood. He is exactly what Amy warned. I was discreet. I left things vague until we can discuss how to handle this.” He looked at Amy. “I counted my fingers twice to be sure. I owe you one for the warning. He’s a very smooth and dangerous man.”

  Amy nodded in agreement. “Avoid him.”

  “We may have to deal with him, but forewarned is forearmed, and we are. What would you like for the warning? A piece of the pie?”

  Both men watched her with seeming casualness. They couldn’t miss the fact that she was startled by the words. “Of course not! The warning was given as a friend.”

  Chas rubbed his nose to hide his pleasure, and Ken smiled at her. “We take your favor seriously. Our thanks.”

  Kenneth stayed around until Chas asked him, “Why don’t you get lost?”

  “Rejected?” Kenneth was astounded. “No, you consider me a threat? How nice of you. Keep me in mind, Amy. He gets dull fast.”

  Chas said nicely, “I may throw you off the balcony.”

  Kenneth told Amy, “See? Pay attention, dear cousin. A violent, possessive man. I’ll withdraw discreetly, but I’ll be around if you should need any aid against such a Neanderthal.” He lifted his fist to his face so that his thumb touched his nose as he laughed at Chas, and went off into the crowded room.

  Chas felt the need to tell Amy, “He doesn’t mean any of it, other than that about Durwood. He does mean that. But the rest of it is pure Kenneth hype. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

  She responded, “Yes, sir.” But her tone wasn’t really that subservient.

  “See? Your whole attitude is improving.”

  Sally came past in the crowd and told Amy not to forget the hen party after dinner. She whispered it to Amy. “This is a limited gathering. Don’t mention it. Come to Connie’s room. Okay?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Sally gave Amy a quick hug, then she kissed Chas. He turned his head so that her mouth missed his.

  Sally pretended she meant only to salute his cheek, and she wiggled away in the crowd.

  “What was that about?” Chas wanted to know.

  “I guess it’s supposed to be a secret. I’ve already told you, so don’t you mention it to anyone. The hen party.”

  Chas countered her sternly, “Don’t eat or drink anything. Say you’re full.”

  He was warning her about drugs? “They wouldn’t do anything that stupid.”

  “Do as I say.” He was quite stern.

  Annoyed, she breathed another, snide, “Yes, sir!”

  He grinned at her. “I like that. I like an obedient woman.”

  She snorted indignantly and turned her back on him. It only amused him.

  He was never far from her. He never let her get entangled with a group for too long. That’s murderous at a cocktail party. One never sits down or stays with any one group.

  And knowing his family, he didn’t want the doubters to peck at her.

  It was at this time that Amy noticed Chas never kissed women on the mouth. He managed to avoid it. She’d seen Sally try to kiss him, and thought it was just that Sally was a bride-to-be, and he was acknowledging that with a hands-off sort of attitude. But now she realized he simply did not kiss women on their mouth. Other women. He kissed her mouth.

  Amy realized her father was the same way. He never greeted women he knew with hugs and kisses. He was nice about greetings and liked women, but he simply did not hug or kiss them. Chas was that way, too?

  With the press of the crowd, it was Chas’s shoulder that protected her from being jostled, and it was he who saw to it that she had water instead of wine. That made her somewhat indignant.

  He explained quite nicely, “You’re not going to have champagne with the toasts. I can’t stand drinking women.”

  She leaned back so she would observe him in censorship. “What about you?”

  He lifted his glass. “Water.” But then he reminded her, “I’m driving.” He grinned at her then.

  So he wasn’t a lush? Neither was her father. How many times had her dad said that booze kills brain cells and he needed all his. But Chas had given her wine with the pizza the night she first seduced him.

  Eventually the crowd moved to the dining room and were seated. There were a lot of them. How marvelous so many of the family could come there to this elegant place. How strange the couple wasn’t to be married in their home church.

  But Amy gradually learned, in the babble of chatter, that not too many of them lived, now, where they’d grown up.

  They w
ere part of the job mobility that had scattered much of the population after World War II, and such mobility had continued as if that was the way to live. Their old home town was plural.

  Amy noted Connie. As maid of honor, she had to be there. She was so quiet in that animated group. She looked finely honed. It must be hell for her, waiting for what the doctor would tell her the next day. What could it be to rattle such a woman?

  Thinking of Connie made Amy consider how many people she met— as she moved around in her work, and now with this impulsive joining with strangers— and how strange it was to become involved in concern for other people.

  Traveling was broadening.

  It made Amy realize what an enviable facade we put on people of affluence. We believe their lives are magic. Perfect. And we look on those who have no means at all with only a sense of responsibility, our compassion tempered with irritation because they can’t straighten themselves out.

  But as Kipling wrote about the Colonel’s Lady and Rosey O’Grady, we are all sisters under the skin. All of us struggle and have problems. And Connie was suffering.

  * * *

  The toasts were hilarious. Some were old family treasures that Chas had to try to explain, but were senseless to outsiders. Matt was sitting next to Connie, and he toasted, “The winner.” Was he just a little cynical?

  But Tad’s reply toast was, “To the losers.” He was no fool.

  Amy wondered if Sally really appreciated Tad. Given only what Amy knew, what were the chances for the marriage between Sally and Tad to survive?

  What about Connie? And Matt? Matt appeared solicitous and attentive to Connie. Paying dues to get her into bed?

  And Amy wondered, was that what Chas was doing to her? Insuring a bed partner? He, too, was attentive and solicitous. Charmingly so. But not treating her with any kind of equality.

  He was the courteous male to an attractive female.

  Did he ever acknowledge that females were capable of anything any male could do? Did he work well with women? What difference did that make to her?

  In about thirty-six hours, she would be gone.

  Seven

  “Skip the hen party.” That was the first thing Chas said to Amy after they left the bachelor’s dinner and were walking toward their suite.

  “Aren’t you going with Tad and the rest?”

  “Remember? I told you I was driving tonight. I have to see to it these fools don’t wrap a car around something. I have to go.”

  “Have to?” Amy chose to repeat those two words. “That’s not very enthusiastic.”

  Chas explained, “I’ve outgrown bachelor bashes. I’ve been to too many. They’re all just alike. Drinking, dirty jokes and trashy films. A stripper. An adolescent coming-of-age that clings like barnacles to a fine tradition.”

  Then he stopped Amy to say, “This hen party is a female copy. It will offend you. Don’t go.”

  Declining his advice, Amy scoffed. “I’ve been to several of these with sorority sisters, and they were fun!”

  “You were all younger.”

  She demurred, “I’m not that old.”

  “I know. But I also know these particular cousins. This segment. You don’t belong with them. Don’t go. The group that’ll be there tonight is— uh— well, tried. You don’t want this experience with this bunch.”

  “I can’t not,” she explained. “Sally asked me. There aren’t going to be very many there. She included me over her cousins!” Then Amy hastened to mend her careless words. “Uh...other cousins she...knows better. I’m new. I’m flattered. I think it would be rude to simply not show up.”

  Chas narrowed his eyes and his voice was soft but firm. “They will ask you about...sleeping with me...and...”

  “Don’t be silly! Who would do that?”

  He assured Amy, “It will come up gradually. They’ll confess to experiences, they start matching bed hops, and they’ll invite you to join in.”

  “Women aren’t like men! They won’t do anything of the sort! You’re accusing them of something a long way beyond kiss-and-tell.”

  “Don’t tell,” he urged. “It’s none of their business.”

  “I know that! What do you take me for? I’m surprised you feel you must advise me on something so basic.”

  He didn’t quit. He warned, “Don’t let them trick you into any confessions or confidences. Nothing you do is any of their business.”

  “I know that!” she shouted and waved her arms around. “I find it very offensive that you don’t trust me! You’re making me angry.”

  Almost gently, Chas told her, “This is something to be angry about. I only mean to warn you. You’re a very nice woman, Amy. You don’t realize how women can be.”

  “I’m not such an innocent. I’ve traveled quite widely, and I’ve met a good many people. I’ve learned to judge people and I know how to conduct myself.”

  “You’re a lady. You haven’t been thrown into a pool of barracudas. You need to be warned so you can protect yourself.”

  She flung out her hands and snapped, “I’m warned! Now leave off!”

  He stood with his hands low on his lean hips and watched her. He reached one big hand out and cupped the side of her head, but she resisted being drawn to him. He shook her head a little, and he said, “Behave.”

  She clenched her fists and made a tight-lipped, furiously frustrated sound, then she flipped around to go to the elevator, but he followed her. They went up to the sixth floor. He escorted her to Connie’s door and knocked for her, watching her, his face still. Amy refused to lift her glance to his.

  Was she angry enough? He sure as hell hoped so. He was very reluctant for her to attend this gathering of these particular cousins. He’d handled her all wrong.

  He should have told Sally that Amy wouldn’t be there. He should have made it plain. Or he should have refused to drive tonight and cajoled Amy into going with him...swimming in the late night.

  Beach walking in the moonlight? He should have paid more attention. He had to go and drive that bunch. He’d promised. Damn.

  It was Connie who opened the door. Chas didn’t smile. He said to Connie’s greeting, “I’ll see you about eight tomorrow morning? You’ll want to have breakfast first?”

  Connie shook her head. The circles under her eyes were dark, and she looked terrible.

  So Chas told Connie, “Then I’ll see you about nine. Is that okay? That’ll give us plenty of time.”

  She nodded and said quietly, “Thanks, Chas.”

  Having reminded Connie that he was doing her a favor, Chas demanded one of his own. He leaned his head forward a little, for emphasis, as he told her in tones that couldn’t be mistaken, “You take care of Amy.”

  Connie looked briefly startled, but she said, “Yes.”

  Chas didn’t leave it there. He added, “See to it!”

  Connie smiled slightly then, and agreed, “Right.” But she added a serious, “I shall.”

  Amy could have died. He treated her like a twelve-year-old who needed a keeper.

  Still talking to Connie, Chas said, “We’ll come by later.”

  “Don’t be too long.”

  “I’ll try,” Chas promised. “These things can last forever.”

  Sally came down the walkway. “Hey!” She smiled and wrapped an arm around Chas’s neck. “Want to stay with us? It’d be lots more fun!”

  “You all behave yourselves.” Chas removed Sally from him.

  Amy thought he was woodenly obnoxious. However, she also noted that Sally had leaned her breast against Chas and showed her teeth exactly the way he said women did to him.

  It was then Amy realized Sally wanted Chas! And given the chance, she would sleep with Chas that very night! She was going to marry Tad tomorrow, but Sally wanted Chas. The realization did more to warn Amy than any of Chas’s irritating lectures.

  Chas ignored the other two women as he said to Amy, “We shouldn’t be overly long. They’re agreeable drunks and can be led.”


  Amy shrugged, still a little hostile.

  Chas smiled and put a hand around her nape and growled softly in her ear so that only she heard. He told her, “I could throttle you.”

  That incensed Amy!

  She puffed as Sally laughed. “What’d he say?”

  Chas replied, “I told her to behave.”

  Sally hooted, “There go the tapes!”

  “Wear a blindfold.” He leaned and kissed Amy before she could back away. He grinned at her. “I’ll try to get them back in a reasonable time.” He lifted a hand to the other two in farewell, and he left.

  Amy followed her two “cousins” into Connie’s room, feeling like Danielle Entering The Lioness’s Den. How silly. For something to say, Amy asked, “Why did he keep saying they wouldn’t be long?”

  “They’re coming here after they’ve gone a few places. It’ll be a couple of hours.”

  The other two of the select guests did come. Charlotte and Kate. They were a little older than thirty. Their eyes were wiser.

  Their language slid into words Amy didn’t use even to exclaim inside her mind. But she was young yet. Would the time come when she would use such words so casually?

  Connie’s room had a wet bar, and Sally mixed strong drinks. Paying attention to Chas’s other warning, Amy said, “Later. I’m still woozy from all the toasts.”

  “Good time to top it off!” Sally mixed her a drink anyway.

  Since Amy was twenty-four, she wasn’t pushed into even sipping the drink, she could set it down and ignore it.

  Sally and her cousins chatted and laughed, catching up on news.

  Connie wasn’t as outgoing.

  Charlotte asked her, “What’s the matter?”

  Connie was evasive. “Just tired.”

  Charlotte then asked, salaciously laughing, “Matt been at you?”

  That got a round of laughs.

  Connie shaped her lips exactly and just said the word, “No.”

  Then even Charlotte and Kate asked seriously, “Are you okay, Connie? Do you need any help?”

  “Thanks, no.”

  There were variations of, “We’re here.” The newcomers were serious as they looked at Connie soberly.