by Jo Leigh
She had tried. Lord knows, she had. Three relationships, all of them filled with hope and promise in the beginning, each one of them ending in dismal failure. Josh, from college. Bright, funny, painfully handsome. She'd never guessed he could be cruel enough to invite her to his wedding exactly three weeks after he'd dumped her, claiming he wasn't ready for marriage.
Adam, the man she was sure would be her husband. Witty, talented, an extraordinary lover. He'd gambled away every penny she'd saved. He'd married a keno girl in Atlantic City, but at least he'd had the decency to wait a whole month.
And then there was Carl. The man she'd loved in a way that changed everything. She'd never experienced anything so powerful before or since. Three years, they'd lived in his Chelsea loft. He'd been her mentor, her friend, her lover. His success as a broker had been meteoric, but he'd kept a level head and a wicked sense of humor. It had all been perfect, right up to the day he'd left her the note giving her two days to move out so he could be free to marry a woman he'd known a week.
She'd cried until there were no more tears. Wrote pages and pages in her journal, pouring her heart out on paper. Her friends, especially Trevor, had given her the strength to go on.
It was Carl who finally helped her see that she was never going to have what Ben and Katy had. That no man was ever going to love her the way Ben loved Katy.
Not one of those men had been in love with her. They'd never even pretended, or said the word in bed. She'd loved them, even though she'd known they didn't love her back.
Never again.
If Trevor decided he didn't want to change their relationship, she'd be fine. She'd adjust. Maybe, in time, she'd meet someone else she could trust enough to sleep with. Someone she was absolutely sure she would never love.
It wasn't so horrible. She had so many blessings—her career, her friends, her cats. Even though she'd lost her mother so young, she had people to turn to for advice and comfort. She'd never really been lonely, or afraid to spend time alone. True, it was kind of sad. Sad that she'd have to miss out on that very big part of life. But then, it wasn't a tragedy, either. It didn't even preclude her having children. She could always adopt, or have artificial insemination. No, she'd be fine. She'd be great.
But she sure would like it if she and Trevor could take that one last step. Because the truth was, she missed being held. She missed it so much, it made her ache inside.
She could just picture the two of them, lying in her big bed underneath the white comforter. Watching some great old movie, sharing popcorn and root beer. Touching. Laughing. Holding each other through the long nights.
No commitments, no promises, no broken hearts. Just kindness and affection and a sweetness that only Trevor was capable of.
Ira jumped up on her desk, and sat down right on top of her date book. He looked at her with his inquisitive green eyes, and even before she touched him, she could hear his rumbling purr.
As she rubbed his ears, she smiled. Maybe she didn't need to wait until her next life to be as contented as a cat. If things went well, which she just knew they would, she and Trevor could both be snug in the knowledge that they were safe. That their needs were being met. That they wouldn't hurt each other or leave each other. It would be perfect.
All they had to do was get past this awkward phase.
* * *
Chapter 4
« ^ »
Trevor knew it was Lee before he picked up the phone. No way she was going to chalk up tonight's fiasco of a double date without rehashing every detail. He'd grown used to her blow-by-blow analyses, and most of the time he didn't mind them. Lee's wit and sharp tongue made her monologues as interesting as a Fran Lebowitz column, and with Lee, Trevor knew all the players.
Except tonight he was one of the players, and he wasn't terribly keen on discussing the minutiae of his blunders until one in the morning.
He lifted the receiver.
"Did you kiss Connie good-night?" Lee asked.
"Well, hi to you, too. No, I didn't. What about you?"
"He kissed my cheek."
"Which one?"
She paused. "The one on my face."
"Ah," he said, walking to the fridge. Inside he found several bottles of Corona, milk, orange juice and Bloody Mary mix, in addition to a couple of nice bottles of a California chardonnay he'd recently reviewed for the magazine. Four stars. But it was late, so the orange juice won. He grabbed the plastic carton and shut the fridge door with his foot, then walked over to his big velvet chair and let himself sink into the familiar contours.
"What I can't understand is how Katy could have ever imagined I'd like him," Lee said. "Could the man talk about anything but breasts? I mean, please. Like I care about the advantages of saline over silicone?"
"He did offer to give you a good discount."
"I don't need bigger boobs," she said, and he heard the sound of meowing cats in the background. She must be feeding the boys. "Do I?"
"No, you don't," he said, picturing her breasts, then instantly breaking out in a cold sweat.
"Are you sure? You haven't really seen them, you know."
"I can tell they're just great, Lee." He wiped the perspiration off his forehead and wished she'd change the subject. But at least if he passed out from unrequited lust, she'd call the paramedics for him. "You don't need bigger anything."
"Okay. Here sweeties. Salmon, yummy!"
"Lee?"
"What?"
"If you're going to make yummy noises for your cats, I'm leaving."
"Keep your shirt on. I just have to change their water."
Trevor took the opportunity to open the orange juice carton and take a healthy swig. The sweet drink helped dissipate the sour taste left over from tonight's disaster.
Katy had convinced them to go through with it, insisting that it was the perfect time to see other people. Then they would be able to take a more well-rounded look at what he'd come to think of as "The Plan." So, tonight he had gone out with a lawyer from Ben's office and Lee had gone out with a plastic surgeon friend of Katy's. They'd gone to a concert at Lincoln Center and then for Chinese after. It should have been nice. They'd done the same thing before, with different dates, of course, and they'd always had a decent time.
Not tonight.
For the first time since college, he'd been uncomfortable around one of Lee's dates. The breast discussions hadn't helped. Greg, the doctor, hadn't been able to go five minutes without mentioning nipples, for God's sake. Was it any wonder Trevor couldn't stop thinking about Lee's breasts? That he'd had to fight the urge to touch her all through Rhapsody in Blue?
"You there?"
"Yep."
"Trevor?"
"Hmm?"
"Tonight showed me everything I need to know. Dammit, let's stop wasting all this time and energy on people we don't like. I say we get off our tushies and get down to some serious boinking."
Trevor jerked as a small jet of orange juice shot out of the top of the carton. He hadn't realized he'd been squeezing it so hard. He took another drink, wishing he'd added vodka.
"Well?"
Despite the bravado of her words, there was a hint of nervousness in her voice. Maybe not. Maybe he was the only one scared out of his mind. Either way, he wasn't going to rush this. It was too important. He thought about Connie, his date. She'd been very pretty and smart. Funny, too. Just the kind of woman he liked. Used to like. Tonight, she just wasn't Lee. And that was that.
So what was he so worried about? He wanted to be with Lee. She wanted t be with him. They both understood the formula—sex plus friendship minus complications.
Sex with Lee. Good God, the thought had taken permanent residence in his brain, right where good sense used to live. Now that it was there, it wasn't going to go away. Not until he did something about it.
He took in a big breath of air, and let it out slowly, preparing for the dive off the high board. "Okay," he said, knowing that one little word was going to open a complet
ely new chapter of his life. That things would never be the same again. It might be wonderful, just like Lee predicted. Or he might be signing the death warrant to the best friendship he'd ever had.
"Wow."
"Yeah, wow. Dammit, Lee, what if—"
"Stop. Stop right there. We can't do what if. We have to believe it's going to be perfect."
"That's easy for you, Pollyanna, but for those of us in the real world, the future holds some risks."
"What doesn't? Hell, you could be hit by a taxi tomorrow morning."
"Impeccable logic. Nonsense, but impeccable."
"It's not nonsense. I simply choose to have an optimistic point of view, which, sweet cheeks, is one of the things you like most about me."
"I think you're confusing optimism with fatalism."
"Oh, my God."
"What?"
"I just realized something. Having sex means we're going to be naked. With each other. I mean, I have really good boobs for a platonic relationship, but now that we're upgrading to platonic gold—"
"Platonic gold?"
"Yeah, like Visa gold. You still have the same card, but you get more perks."
Trevor grinned. "Perks, huh? Beats the hell out of a free rental car."
"I'm serious," she said. "We're talking about actually getting naked. In front of each other."
"I already know what you look like," he said. That's all he'd been thinking about for days, but he wasn't about to tell her that.
"You do not."
"I've seen you in a bathing suit."
"It's not the same."
"Is there something you need to tell me? This isn't going to turn out like The Crying Game, is it?"
She laughed. "No. All I'm saying is, you haven't seen all the parts yet."
"Uh-huh."
"And I haven't seen all your parts."
He inhaled sharply, feeling his parts stir.
"Other mysterious parts," Lee whispered. Her tone had changed. The humor was now laced with something more. Something daring and intimate. She wasn't kidding anymore. Trevor shifted on his chair, wondering if he should hang up the phone. Or maybe rip it out of the wall. This was it. The moment of change. He could still back out. There was still time. "I don't have anything you haven't seen before."
"I haven't seen you. And now…"
"What?"
"I need to see it."
A surge of lust hit him so hard, he nearly fell on the floor. He struggled to regain his composure. To keep things light. "I can hold it up to the phone, if you think it'll help."
"I'm not kidding. I need to see you naked, Trevor."
"If…" The word came out an octave too high. He cleared his throat and started again. "When we do it, you'll see it all."
"No," she said. "I need to see it first."
"What are you talking about?"
"I have to see it. You. Before we move to the next step."
"Why?" He closed his eyes, wondering what he'd done to deserve this torture.
"Because. I just need to, okay?"
A horrible thought struck him. "What is this, some kind of test? Are you going to change your mind if it's not big enough?"
"No! No, that's not it at all."
He waited for her explanation, but it wasn't forthcoming. All he could hear was her rapid breathing. All he could think about were parts, his and hers, and how crazy this all was. Crazy that he was even thinking about seeing her naked. About touching her, tasting her. Holding her in his arms.
He closed his eyes and pictured her in front of him. It was so easy. He knew her so well. The way the light made her hair shine like fire. The crooked front tooth that she constantly complained about that actually made her look even prettier. Her legs. Oh, God. He couldn't go there. Not to her legs. This wasn't good. He shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. They were far too dangerous. He'd never allowed himself to want her, because he knew he couldn't have her.
Now, it seemed the floodgates had opened. Ever since she'd first brought up the idea of sleeping together, he'd thought of little else. The need must have been there for a long time. Just under the surface. He woke up with Lee on his mind. And fell asleep the same way. Whether he liked it or not, he'd crossed the line. He doubted seriously he'd ever be able to go back.
"I need to take this in order," Lee said, finally. "Small steps. I want to get over the naked thing first. It's going to be awkward, we both know that. But if we do it in a nonthreaterting way, we can get over the awkwardness. Then, we can move on to the next step."
"And these two steps can't take place at the same time?"
"No. I know you think I'm nuts, but indulge me, please."
"How is this supposed to work?"
"You'll come over. No, maybe not here. And not at your place. We'll figure out where. And then—"
"We get naked."
"No. You get naked."
The lush image in his mind vanished with a poof. "What? Are you kidding?"
"I'm the one that needs this step. You don't."
"I'm not going to get naked by myself."
"Why not?"
"Because it's ridiculous, that's why."
"It's not. It's just the way it needs to be."
"Lee, I'll get naked all you want. But only if there's quid pro quo."
She giggled. It was such a great sound. Not a girlie giggle, nothing like that. Lee giggled low, a throaty, sexy kind of half laugh. "Can you believe this? We're actually gonna do it."
"Yeah," he said. He put the orange juice carton on the coffee table, then leaned back in the chair. He was still a little hard. With just a bit of concentration he could be a lot hard. Uh-oh. "I need to go," he said.
"We're not finished."
"Yes, we are."
"But—"
"Good night, Lee. We'll talk in the morning."
"Come for lunch."
"Okay. Now good night."
"Trevor?"
"What?"
"I have auburn hair."
"What?"
She giggled again. "Think about it. Nighty night."
He stared at the phone after she hung up. And then it hit him. She had auburn hair. Oh, dammit.
* * *
Lee opened her desk drawer to look for a pack of gum, but all she could come up with was an eraser, a fuzzy breath mint, and two ticket stubs to a play at the Manhattan Theater Club. She closed the drawer, then tried to signal Eleanor, the broker who sat at the next desk, but Eleanor had a phone at each ear and wasn't paying any attention to Lee. She debated throwing the eraser at her colleague, but changed her mind and focused in on her own phone conversation again.
Mr. Wilkins had been talking for ten minutes. Lee had clocked it. No breaks, hardly any breaths, and he hadn't mentioned his portfolio once. However, she did know about his tomatoes, the noisy neighbors downstairs and the man at the corner market who wore women's clothes. She really had better things to do. Phone calls, fact checking, getting some more coffee. But she wouldn't be brusque with Mr. Wilkins. He was so lonely since his wife died that Lee didn't have the heart to hurry him up. Besides, Trevor was due any minute, so she'd make her calls after lunch.
"No, Mr. Wilkins, I haven't seen that episode of Murder, She Died."
"It's a good one, let me tell you. That Angela Lindbergh, she's the best actress in the country."
"I like her, too," Lee said, smiling. Mr. Wilkins had a propensity for mixing up words which was pretty amusing. She reached over and tapped on her mouse pad, waking up her computer. A spreadsheet instantly replaced her Far Side screen saver.
"Anyway," he said, drawing out the word until it was just a sigh.
Lee relaxed. He'd gotten tired, that word was her clue. They only had a minute of business to take care of. "So what do you think about rolling over that money in the mutual fund?"
"Whatever you think is right, Lee."
"It's your money, not mine."
"I know. But you've taken good care of me for two years. I trust you."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I think it's a pretty safe investment, and it's holding steady. So I'll go ahead and roll it over, if you're sure."
"I am. I couldn't be in better hands."
Lee smiled, but not just in response to Mr. Wilkins's kind words. Trevor had arrived. As he walked down the corridor, she watched her fellow brokers check him out. They'd all seen him before, but Trevor wasn't someone they could ignore. All the women and three-quarters of the men would like to roll him over if they had the chance.
She said goodbye to Mr. Wilkins and hung up the phone just as Trevor got to her desk. "Howdy," she said, urging the butterflies in her stomach to take a hike. Last night's conversation was still fresh in her mind. Too fresh. She felt a hot blush fill her cheeks, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.
"Howdy, yourself," he said.
He looked damn good. He'd worn her favorite black slacks, the ones that hugged his long legs and made his butt look fabulous. And the gray silk shirt she'd given him last Christmas. Altogether a delicious combination. He'd pushed back his hair with his fingers, which mussed it up just right.
It was odd and scary to think about him like this. She'd watched other women drool over Trevor for years, but she'd never indulged. Given her enthusiasm now, it seemed clear that she'd been suppressing her feelings for a long time.
"You look nice," he said, his slow grin making his face even more handsome.
"Thanks." She had taken special care today. She'd gotten up early to wash and set her hair, and she'd picked the black Donna Karan that she usually reserved for important business dinners.
"Where are we going?"
She got her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk and stood up. "How about that Thai place?"
"Sounds good," he said, as his gaze darted down. Right to her breasts. Then up again to her face.
"Although we could just go to my apartment," she said, careful to keep her voice down so that all the busybodies she worked with wouldn't hear. They already speculated about her relationship with Trevor, and were highly suspect of her sex life in general. Not once in the three years she'd worked at the brokerage had she accepted an invitation from one of her male coworkers. Business, yes. Personal, never. So they either thought she was lying about just being friends with Trevor, or they thought she was gay. Neither bothered her. She liked to keep her private life private. But if he kept looking at her like that, she might jump his bones right here. "Well?" she prodded.
