Clancy nodded and glanced down at their two hands, clasped between them. “He is, and he does say terrible things, that’s for sure. He’s told me a lot about you.”
Amanda gaped at her partner but saw the humor in her eyes, and warmth that was like a magnet and she was unaccustomed to the sensation. Again Clancy led them a step out of harm’s way and her perfume filled Amanda’s nostrils. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the unexpected enjoyment of being both cared for and led. Without thinking further than the alcohol buzzing in her blood and the tips of her fingers, she found herself settling naturally into the soft and hard places of Clancy’s long body and enjoying the easy comfort as they moved together to the slow, low, throbbing tempo.
You shouldn’t be liking this so much, said a treacherous voice in her head. You’ll regret it. You’ll be sorry in the morning.
Amanda turned her face away from the nasty inner voice and concentrated instead on the pearl that glowed on Clancy’s earlobe. She wanted to be oblivious again to the crowd, to the dire consequences of dancing this way with a woman who set her blood racing but who also made her mad as hell and wasn’t remotely likeable. Despite the warnings of the inner voice she sighed happily and gave herself up to the warm guiding hand at her back; it was a new and different feeling to relinquish control and she involuntarily shuddered with delight.
“You okay?” Clancy looked into Amanda’s eyes.
Amanda tightened her arms around Clancy’s neck and smiled. “I haven’t danced like this in…ever. And I just love the way you smell.”
“You’re saying I smell?”
Amanda pulled back. “That’s not what I meant,” she said sharply.
Clancy clasped her closer and grinned into her indignant eyes. “Just teasing,” she said. Her tone was gentle and Amanda felt it wrap around her and turn her inside out. She studied Clancy’s smile with a dizzying mix of bewilderment, delight and irritation flooding her veins. She didn’t like it one bit that Clancy seemed able to flick at her emotions as if she were a pinball—helpless to do anything but respond like an idiot. At the same time, Clancy’s hand was generating waves of heat in her lower back that were connecting directly to places deep inside—and the pulse at the base of her throat.
“You okay?” Clancy repeated. Her voice had sunk to a whisper that was inaudible above the slow, pounding bass beat, but Amanda saw the words in the movement of her lips and nodded.
“I’m so okay you wouldn’t believe it,” Amanda replied and although she cocked a cheeky grin at Clancy, the urgency of her voice told her she really meant it. Clancy regarded her closely, the eyebrow rose again, and Amanda looked right back, trying to intuit what it was Clancy might be seeking. She felt her own grin melting to seriousness with the force of Clancy’s penetrating gaze. “I don’t know what makes me do it, but I say the most ridiculous things when I’m in your company,” she heard herself say. And then Clancy’s blue-gray eyes softened as she laughed.
“Crazy girl,” she said. “Sometimes I get what my brother sees in you.” They turned again with the music and their similar bodies meshed together, breast-to-breast, thigh-to-thigh, brown eyes to blue-gray. As it happened, Amanda murmured in her partner’s ear, “Me too.” Clancy pulled back and her eyebrows shot up in a question and Amanda added quickly, “I mean I get what Malcolm sees in you.” Clancy’s eyebrows rose further and Amanda groaned, “There you are—see? What I mean is, he loves you and I can see why.”
Clancy’s gaze changed as her pupils widened and her eyes became instantly almost black. “Really?” she said as dry as a stick. “That’s nice.” And her grin was one that Amanda found herself inwardly describing as “shit eating,” even as she blushed at the underlying meaning that Clancy had chosen to take from her garbled words. She returned the grin and leaned back against Clancy’s arms the better to try to understand the enigmatic woman, but it wasn’t easy. Rather than risk a further accidental double entendre she said the next best thing to pop into her mind.
“I don’t often get to dance with anyone my own height.”
Clancy’s eyes were unreadable but shook her head. “Me neither,” she replied. “It has its advantages.” And in that moment Amanda felt herself being drawn irreversibly toward the smiling mouth; and their lips had met in a kiss so tender it was like an imagining.
Amanda was awakened from her reverie by the scratch and rattle of keys. She quickly withdrew her wayward hand from between her legs and laid it across her stomach. She lifted the pillow off her forehead and even as her heart slowed to near normal, she realized the pain in her skull was receding and there was a slim chance she might live. She opened her eyes and saw that what was streaming in the long windows was definitely the light of a new day. She closed her eyes again. With the opened front door came a gust of wintry air that pulled her fully back to the present. It was a safer place than the disturbing and brief rapport she had experienced with Clancy.
“I’m dying,” she cried piteously. “Shoot me now, I beg you!”
Malcolm’s snort of laughter was followed by the fresh scent of lemony aftershave and chilled lips that lightly touched her forehead.
“Some breakfast, some painkillers and we’ll review your request,” he said and went on into the tiny kitchen. Amanda kept her eyes closed and listened to the familiar sounds of breakfast in the making. “Whole wheat toast, bagel or English muffin?”
“Yes, please,” Amanda said, pathetically, and sat up. The cannonball thudded once again from one side of her skull to the other and she held her head carefully in both hands and groaned. A minute later the scent of toasting reached her nostrils but, to her surprise, she felt hunger pangs rather than nausea. But her head was unbearable. “I need drugs now,” she called weakly.
Malcolm waved a plate and a glass under her nose. “Eat this, then you can have a couple of tablets.” On the plate was a toasted half muffin, thickly spread with partially melted butter and dark golden honey. Amanda’s stomach gurgled loudly with a spasm of anticipation.
“Yum,” she said, grabbed the muffin and bit a huge chunk out of it. “Bliss. Oh, thank you.” She savored the butter and honey with her eyes closed and her cheeks bulging as she munched. “You are the best friend a girl could possibly have,” she murmured—with difficulty—and took another smaller bite out of the muffin, to save the final chunk as a precious treat.
“That’s true.” Malcolm smiled down at her. “When you’ve finished, take these, and she’ll be right.” He placed two capsules and a tumbler of water on the coffee table.
Amanda sighed and grabbed his hand and planted a kiss on it. “God, Mal, you are a good friend.” She sniffed away a sudden threat of tears and swatted him on the behind as he returned to the kitchen. Amanda swallowed the capsules and drained the water; popped the last of the muffin into her mouth and sighed happily. Her head was still pounding but already a sense of well-being was beginning to take it on with the possibility of winning.
* * *
Malcolm and Amanda were sitting at the kitchen bar sipping fresh juice when Ted came panting into the apartment, checked his stopwatch and heart rate then slumped onto a high stool beside them. Malcolm slid a tall glass of water toward him and a smaller tumbler of juice.
“Good run?”
Ted nodded, took three long deep breaths and steadied his lungs enough to reply, “Going to be a great day. Clear sky. Nice.” He fished in the pouch pocket of his sweatshirt. “Picked up the mail. You got a postcard from Clancy.”
He dropped the envelopes on the counter. Malcolm singled out the postcard, flipped it over and read aloud, “Hi Mal, raining every day. Should have stayed home. Jane left early. How’s tricks? Big love. Clancy.”
“Who’s Jane?” Amanda asked, the words leaping out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Malcolm looked at her quizzically but just said, “An on-again, off-again, and now presumably off again old girlfriend.” He slid the postcard across the counter to share the palm trees, white beach an
d blue sky. “Port Douglas—far north Queensland. It’s not the season for rain every day. Still, it would be nice and warm.” He stretched his arms above his head and grinned at his friends. “I think I’ll go home for a bit. If there’s an upside to getting the axe it could be the smell of home in spring.”
“Spring?” Ted chomped on a toasted muffin.
“Yup. Fall here and spring there—it’s not called Down Under for nothing.” Malcolm grinned at his friends. “Why don’t you come with me, Amanda? Let global finance collapse without us. How’s that for an idea?”
The horrified expression on Amanda’s face told Malcolm exactly what she thought of Australia as an idea and he chortled and slapped his knee. “It wasn’t that bad,” he said.
It wasn’t simply the hangover headache that was causing the throbbing ache to start up again. Amanda groaned and let her head sink into her hands. “We’ve met twice and each time we’ve argued. Why would I go halfway around the world for more?”
Malcolm leaned over and rubbed her shoulders and squeezed the tendons in her neck; it felt wonderful. She relaxed back into his hand and moaned, “More please,” as his strong fingers attacked the alcohol-induced pain.
“You know, there’s something funny about you and Clancy,” said Ted with difficulty as he chewed a crunchy mouthful of hot buttered muffin. “You really rub each other the wrong way. You can only hate someone that much if you’re on the edge of loving them just as hard.” He waved his toast in the air in triumph. His handsome ebony features cracked into a wide smile. “Yes. I think it’s love.”
Amanda snorted her disagreement and Malcolm laughed, but then he looked at Amanda’s blushing cheeks and his expression took on a quizzical twist. “Interesting thought, Ted,” he said and gave Amanda’s neck one last squeeze.
* * *
Malcolm and Ted went their separate ways, uptown and down, at the subway entrance on Broadway. Each man kissed and hugged Amanda and told her to call them later.
“I’ll need a decision soon,” Malcolm said. “But don’t stress. Let’s talk. Okay?”
“Sure.”
He lifted her chin and forced her to look into his twinkling, friendly eyes.
“You’ll love Australia and you will get to be friends with Clancy. You got off to a bad start.” He chuckled. “Well, okay, a weird start, but I love you both, so there must be a silver lining to the big black cloud you two generated. I’ll talk to her and I promise that if it seems like a bad idea I’ll be honest with you. But I want you to come. Okay?”
“Okay.” Amanda’s heart was full of doubt but she hugged him again and kissed his cheek. “You’re a real goody, Malcolm. And I think I did sort of like her. But…” She shrugged. Malcolm returned her hug with a big squeeze and a kiss on top of her head.
“Just because you’re political opposites and you both had too much to drink and tickled each other’s tonsils, doesn’t mean you have to get married—or not be friends.”
“Malcolm Darling! You are disgusting. We did not…”
“Yes, you did.” He grinned. “I’m sorry, but I saw you. You kissed her.”
“She kissed me!”
“You kissed each other. Then you both thought better of it. Anyway, you’ll be friends. It’ll be great—you wait and see. You’ll be besties.”
“Besties! She’s a bleeding heart liberal!”
“And you’re a class traitor and a running dog lackey for the imperialist oppressors of the proletariat. Of course you’ll be besties. You wait and see.”
Amanda watched him run down the stairs to the subway and wave a jaunty goodbye. Momentarily she wondered where he was off to as he too had been laid off and no office was calling.
“Where are you going?” she yelled after him.
Over his shoulder came the answer. “Australian consulate. You’ll need to go there too. I’ll take you. Have to make sure you don’t get locked up or prohibited.” And he was gone.
She turned away and surveyed the bustling street, immediately forgetting Clancy as she wrestled with the knowledge that Amanda McIntyre, former hotshot, had nowhere to go at no particular time and was therefore officially aimless. It caused her heart to lurch in a sensation that was part excitement but mostly fright.
“Unemployed,” she murmured, “I am unemployed.” The fright began to feel larger than the excitement and she quickly changed tack. “Free, I’m free. I can do anything I want. I can go to Australia with Malcolm.” That sounded a lot better although not entirely convincing. “But I’ll have to be nice to that awful sister of his. Maybe we might get along this time.” That part sounded even less convincing and she shrugged her shoulders deeper into her jacket, flicked the collar to vertical up around her neck, and began sauntering along Broadway as more memories of her unnerving non-friendship with Clancy Darling began to swirl around in her still hungover head.
Hard to believe that it had been more than a year since her last encounter with Clancy: a night out to celebrate the American publication of the book and a prestigious invitation to speak at Harvard Business School. But the restaurant that had been promised as “funky-chic” turned out to be a seedy joint whose décor was stuck in the 1970s and involved raffia-wrapped Chianti bottles. A harassed maitre d’ handed them laminated menus that were sticky to touch. The choices came down to many variations of pasta done any number of ways with any number of sauces. But when the plates arrived the different pastas were uniformly overcooked and each was smothered in sludgy cream sauce or sweaty melted cheese.
As she pushed the slime-drenched components of a chef’s salad around her plate Clancy appeared not to be listening to Amanda’s nonchalant account of her day at eFrères. Until she suddenly broke in as Amanda was in midsentence.
“Do you people have any idea what you’re really doing?” She asked, laying her fork on the plate and sitting back.
Amanda was startled by the tone of her voice and Malcolm coughed and spluttered.
“We’re making a shitload of money, that’s what we’re really doing,” Amanda said, her chin rising defiantly as she stared into Clancy’s glittering eyes.
To her surprise and irritation Clancy laughed—although it was more of a snort.
“God,” she said wearily. “You’re all the same. You don’t get it, do you?”
Amanda was stung by Clancy’s obvious disdain. “Get what, exactly?”
Clancy sighed; the sound was pure exasperation. “Your bubble has burst already. Your map is out of date. By that I mean the brakes have failed, the steering is shot and the limo you’re driving is heading off a cliff. And nothing can stop it because the driver is asleep at the wheel.”
There was silence at the table for a moment, then Amanda uttered a snarling, angry laugh and it was her turn to lay down her fork.
“Oh really?” she snapped. “And how come you’re such a mechanical expert? Do tell.”
“I’m sure you’re not interested,” Clancy snarled. “And I doubt you want to know.”
Amanda was aware that Malcolm was watching them with the same head-swiveling fascination as fans at a tennis match at Flushing Meadows. Malcolm began to speak but his sister hushed him with a raised hand.
“Read my book,” she snapped. “Although it’s too late now. But read it anyway, and then we can have a sensible conversation. Maybe.” Clancy raised her wineglass and stared at the contents.
Amanda wondered momentarily whether she was about to get a face-full of the rough red wine, but Clancy visibly swallowed her temper and took a sip before turning her gaze to Malcolm and smiling tightly. Amanda’s rising outrage was compounded by the feeling that she had been summarily dismissed when Clancy calmly said to him, “Terry and Jill Spencer are interested in taking on the land and the dairy. It’ll make their own acreage more viable and the herd will be up to about two hundred. I said yes. I hope that’s okay with you.”
Malcolm goggled at his sister for a moment then nodded as he realized she was not planning to continue her punch
-up with Amanda.
“Sure,” he said eagerly. “Sure, that sounds terrific. Anyway, you’re the one stuck with handling it all. I really appreciate that.”
“I’m thinking of moving permanently to Two Moon actually. I’d like to get out of Sydney.”
“Really?” Malcolm looked surprised and laid down his fork. “Leave Sydney? Wow!”
“Yeah, I’m starting to hanker after fresh air and the cove.”
“What about Jane?”
“What about Jane indeed.” Clancy glanced at Amanda and almost grinned; almost. “After nine years she finally worked out I’m the most boring woman she’s ever known.”
Malcolm’s mouth fell open and his eyebrows began a dance of protest, but Clancy shook her head. “No, don’t go there, Mal, it’s true. We were away for a week and it rained for the first four days. I read three novels and did crosswords and she went insane. Then we argued and that was that.”
“I’m sorry, sis, really.”
Clancy touched his hand lightly and smiled. It was like a light going on in her handsome face. Despite still bubbling anger Amanda felt its warmth and a near overwhelming desire to reach out to it; instead she clutched her fork and twirled a strand of greasy spaghetti and wondered at the conflicting emotions Clancy provoked.
The evening didn’t improve. Natalie failed to turn up as she had earnestly promised she would and the ill-matched trio struggled with the awful food and rough red wine and desultory conversation. But somehow it had led to the nightclub, jugs of margaritas and the late night dancing. Oh God, there was the late night dancing! There would always be the memory of the late night dancing. As she continued on down Broadway, Amanda felt a fresh new blush of mixed emotions suffuse her cold cheeks. She tried to think of something else, but the unwelcome video clip would not be stopped. She sighed aloud.
Even though working a seventy-hour week didn’t leave her much energy or inclination for late nights or even a small inclination to agree to another evening with Clancy, Amanda had been forced to acknowledge she wanted to know more about her best friend’s mysterious and contrary sister. How she could blow hot and cold and go from friendly warmth to unapproachable chill in the space of thirty seconds meant she was annoying and intriguing in equal measure. And that was how she and Clancy came to be dancing to the absurd sensuousness of “Take My Breath Away.”
Silver Lining Page 10
