Turbulence

by E. J. Noyes

  “Sweaty?”

  “Very.”

  Oh boy. “I just heard about Portland and Vegas.”

  “Yeah, very last minute. I only got the call an hour ago.”

  “Yeah. Speaking of last minute, I’m going to Oklahoma tomorrow.” My heels sounded angrily on the sidewalk.

  “Oh?” There was the blast of a car horn and her muted yell of, “Fucking asshole!”

  My stomach lurched. “You okay?”

  “All good. People drive for shit in this city. So someone else is taking you. I feel put out.” Though her tone was light, the words didn’t feel it.

  “Tell me about it,” I said bitterly. “And I’m pissed at Mark for stealing you away from me for the weekend. He could have made Schwartz take the shift.”

  Traffic noise made the long pause slightly less awkward but I was still aware of her silence before she said, “Well…it’s not like Mr. Hall knew I had plans with you, Iz.” It was phrased carefully but I still felt the recrimination, gentle as it was. She cleared her throat, the next sentence rushing out of her mouth. “I know we weren’t going to, but can I come around and see you tonight?”

  I tucked flyaway strands of hair behind my ears. “Shit, I’d love to, really but I can’t tonight. I’ve got a function.” I let out a little gurgle, feeling a sudden urge to explain. “It’s been set for months. Didn’t I tell you?” Quickly glancing left and right, I rushed across the street and slipped behind a stationary taxi.

  “Uh, yeah I think you did. No worries. I guess I’ll just see you when you’re back. Or I’ll look for your picture on the net.” Again, she said it lightly but underneath her casual tone it felt forced, with a hint of something I couldn’t place.

  “But I’ll see you Monday night?”

  “Mhmm absolutely. I look forward to it. Have fun.”

  I laughed hollowly. “Trust me, there’s nothing fun about mingling with these people.”

  Her voice grew soft. “I don’t know, Iz. You always look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

  Always look like I’m enjoying myself. Always. She followed what I was doing? I came to a stop outside the deli. “It’s all an act. Got to keep up appearances and all that. Honey, I have to go. I’m just out to grab some lunch and fresh air between crazy busy work stuff.” The endearment had slipped out before I could stop it. I held my breath, waiting to see if she noticed or mentioned it.

  “Sure thing,” she said. “I’ll talk to you soon. Safe trip. Will you text me to let me know this inferior pilot has delivered you safely?”

  “I will. And you too. Um, enjoy yourself in Vegas.” After we’d hung up, I stared blankly at my phone. There was something off with her, something nestled alongside the pointed remark about Mark being unaware of our…thing. Was it jealousy? I knew I was jealous, that she might find entertainment in the place where entertainment threw itself at you, but the vibe was almost like she felt left out. I shelved it to think about later and went in to order my lunch.

  Walking back to the office with a paper lunch bag in hand I tried to reconcile Audrey’s words and her tone with what I knew. We’d talked about telling people about us, but I thought we’d agreed not to because we weren’t actually in a relationship, so her comment about Mark was out of the blue. As to the other thing, I’d never pegged her as someone who was easily consumed with jealousy. I’d probably misread the situation. It wouldn’t be the first time. Of course, I couldn’t really ask her because fuckbuddies didn’t delve deep into feelings behind motivations. Did they?

  As I walked through our foyer, one of our receptionists handed me three call notes. Clare had left another two on my desk. In my haste to get out of the office, I hadn’t told her to divert calls to me, but she’d obviously taken it upon herself to give me a few minutes of peace away from work. Bless her.

  Lunch first. I needed to eat to rid myself of the burning emptiness in my stomach that hadn’t gone since my call with Preston. Maybe I had an ulcer. Mental note: tell the doctor at next physical. Second mental note: get Clare to book really long overdue physical you were supposed to book before. A light knock at the door startled me. I swallowed my mouthful of salad and gestured for Clare to come in.

  “Ms. Rhodes? Very sorry to interrupt your lunch. You’re booked to Oklahoma tomorrow at twelve. And Christopher suggested an appointment for one o’clock Tuesday.”

  “Thank you.” I ran my tongue over my teeth to catch stray greens. “You can confirm Tuesday with him.”

  “Yes, Ms. Rhodes.”

  “Did you send that paperwork to the Holscotts? I need them to sign ASAP.” A new client. When I’d met him and his wife for lunch a few weeks back, I knew within ten minutes that I had them. She was certainly not all straight and spent most of the lunch practically sitting on my lap, something her husband appeared to indulge. Gross. No thanks.

  “I did and it came back while you were out.” She pointed to a stack of papers to my left. “There’s a copy right there.”

  “Good. Can you please tell Amber to reprint pages eighteen through twenty-two of Preston’s latest contract for me to take tomorrow. He says they look slightly off center.” I raised my eyes skyward to let her know exactly what I thought about Preston’s petty bullshit demand.

  “Yes, Ms. Rhodes. Shall I also have the printer replaced if it’s printing incorrectly?” she asked drily.

  I swung back and forth in my chair and tried to hide my grin. “If anyone else complains, I’ll consider it. That’s all for now, thank you.”

  * * *

  After lunch and client calls, I stopped by Mark’s office. He was staring blankly at his laptop and grunted his hello when I stepped behind him to massage his shoulder. “You okay?” I asked. “You look like shit.”

  “Just tired.”

  I paused my kneading. “Not getting sick?”

  “Not sleeping well.” He spun around in his chair to face me.

  “Oh? Are you taking anything?”

  Mark shrugged, nonchalant. “Sometimes. Think it’s just stress.”

  I smoothed the hair at the back of his neck. He needed a haircut. “Are you seeing anyone about it? Talked to your doctor?”

  Mark’s wave was as dismissive as his explanation. “Don’t need to. Why do you think I’m going to Vegas for the weekend? Need to relax with the guys for a few days.” Mark’s mouth grinned. His eyes didn’t.

  “Mmm.” My unease was starting to build. This wasn’t the first time I’d had a gut feeling that something was off, and it felt like more than just stress. I added a mental note to keep an eye on it to all the other mental notes stuck inside my head.

  A line of numbers on his screen looked odd. Pointing, I asked, “What’s going on? Did you miss a buy cut off?”

  “Yeah. I got locked up elsewhere and just missed out.”

  “That’s not like you.” I tried hard not to sound accusatory but the nature of my statement made it hard. “Mark is incompetent” was beginning to feel like a recurring theme with us these past few months, and it’d been getting steadily worse.

  “Come on, Belle. Don’t ride me about it, please. I’m busting my balls running this place.”

  I raised an eyebrow, only just holding onto my temper. He was lucky we were in the office. “Hey! Don’t even start with that bullshit. This is you and me, not you running this alone. We’re equal partners. And I certainly pull my weight. Just look at the figures if you have any doubt about that. We’ve been in this together the whole time.”

  He at least had the grace to look contrite. “I know. I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m just a little tired.”

  Yeah, aren’t we all? I bit my lip to stop from snapping at him. “Okay, fine. Well…I’m here if you want to talk.”

  That easy smile again. “Thanks. I know.”

  “Seriously though, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said quickly, reaching for a clay paperweight his nephew had made him. “You should come to Vegas and have some fun.” The misshapen and s
trangely painted dog spun crazily as Mark tossed it from hand to hand.

  “No thanks, I’m not really into weekends with the guys. And I have a bunch of acquisitions to sort through.” Besides, following Audrey to Nevada was veering into stalking territory. She had a right to do what she wanted, when she wanted…and with whom she wanted. The funny thing was, no matter how much I told myself that, I didn’t feel any better. I felt sick.

  I felt that same rush of jealous annoyance at the thought of Audrey checking out someone else. The feeling made me doubly annoyed. I had no right to such feelings, not unless I was open with my own.

  “You work too hard.” Now he was tossing the paperweight a couple of inches in the air and catching it again. Stupid circus clown.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that one of us had to, but I swallowed the words and took the paperweight from him. I set it down carefully on top of a stack of papers. “Have a good weekend.”

  He affected a southern accent, which he knew I hated, and drawled, “Yes, ma’am.”

  I left Mark’s office, slipped into mine and summoned Clare. Again. “Can you please talk to Tamara about a suitable time and book lunch for Mark and me as soon as possible? Usual place.” I’d take Mark to his favorite restaurant and hopefully find out what was going on with him. Plying him with good food and wine usually loosened him up a little.

  My phone vibrated, skittering across the desk, and Mama’s special ring tone started. Clare made her quiet exit as I contemplated leaving the call. Bad idea, she’ll just keep calling. I picked up my phone and wandered slowly across my office to glance out the window. “Hello, Mama.”

  “Hello, daughter of mine.”

  “How’re you?”

  “Just fine. Missin’ you.”

  I smiled. “I know. I miss you too.”

  “How’s Audrey?” Bingo.

  “Uh, she’s okay. Why?”

  “No reason.” She was trying to sound casual, but all her smugness was seeping through.

  I spun around and paced back toward my desk. “Nuh-uh. Come on.”

  “Just wondering how you two are goin’.”

  “Same as we were last time you saw us.” I leaned over and tapped a key on my laptop to refresh market indicators. My blood pressure crept up.

  “Mhmmm, so you’re good then.”

  “Yes. We’re good,” I said distractedly, leaning over my desk to scribble notes. In the back of my mind I could hear all my past lovers accusing me of never giving them my full attention.

  Mama’s porch door slammed closed. “You two up to anything this weekend?”

  “No she’s working, taking Mark to Vegas for the weekend and I have work to do too.”

  “You sound upset, Bunny.”

  I tossed my pen down on the desk. “No I don’t.”

  Her musing sound told me clearly that she didn’t believe me. She took a deep breath. “Do you remember when you were seven and I caught you diggin’ in my garden?”

  “Yeah.” I’d pulled up most of her bulbs and I still had no idea why. Probably just one of those childish whims. I started to walk back to the window then changed my mind and sank down into my chair.

  “And you swore up and down you were innocent, even when you realized you had one of my daffodil bulbs in your hand. Couldn’t get you to admit it.”

  “What’re you getting at, Mama?”

  “Kinda feels like you’re doing that now. All the facts are right there in your face and you’re ignoring ’em.”

  Sometimes I wished she didn’t make so much sense.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On the flight to Oklahoma, the temptation to dull the impending horror of Preston’s repetitious bargaining with wine was overwhelming, but I abstained. And cursed myself for it. He met me at his favorite restaurant for an early dinner, where I endured a limp handshake and a mercifully dry cheek kiss. I dove into what felt like the hundredth time I’d explained why I thought his insistence on overweighting his portfolio with certain commodities wasn’t wise.

  By dessert, which I skipped, I thought I almost had him. By after-dinner drinks at his favorite bar I was certain of it. He finally let me go around nine p.m., assuring me he’d think about my suggestions and be in touch. Scratch that certainty. I wondered if he gave his doctor and lawyer as much grief as he gave me, second guessing every little thing. He probably sent his doctor web links with self-diagnosis.

  Not quite ready to fly back to New York and my empty apartment, I stayed in the packed bar for another round. Being in a crowd would normally recharge me, but even surrounded by people I realized that I was just as bored and lonely as I would be at home. I swallowed the last mouthful of my gin and gathered my things. On my way out I caught the eye of an attractive, well-dressed woman in the corner. She let her eyes wander up and down my body then smiled at me. I smiled back and kept walking. Lady, you are no Audrey Graham.

  Trying not to grind my teeth during the uncomfortable, turbulent flight, I abandoned any notion of working. Antsy and unable to concentrate, I pushed my earphones hard into my ears and scrolled through playlists. Too slow, too upbeat, too electronica. Eventually, I just hit shuffle, knowing full well the only reason I was being so picky was because I was upset about what might be happening in Vegas.

  Maybe I should have gone after all. I could catch an early flight in the morning and spend my weekend at the blackjack tables. And in bed with Audrey. I shoved the idea out of my head and slammed the door on it. That’s stalking, remember?

  As soon as the jet was hangared and the engines cut off, I politely thanked the unfamiliar pilot, and rushed down the stairs and away from my discomfort. I didn’t want to admit that not having Audrey up front had made me feel nervous, almost unsafe. Brilliant. I’d become some sort of creepy, codependent passenger. Creepy codependent person, more like it.

  Watching the doors of the elevator up to my penthouse close, I was reminded of Audrey again. Our first night together. The way she’d backed me into the corner of the hotel elevator, traced my lips with her thumb and kissed me before I had a chance to say anything. Murmured how sweet I tasted while her hands confidently traveled to places most people wouldn’t go after only knowing someone for thirty-five minutes.

  I remembered how I’d felt, my excitement and rationalizations about why I should or shouldn’t sleep with a woman I’d only just met. All those feelings came rushing back to draw a shiver from the base of my neck right down to my toes. As I walked across the atrium, my personal phone sounded a text alert.

  Did you make it home okay?

  Shit, I’d totally forgotten to let her know that the inferior pilot had indeed delivered me safely to and from Oklahoma. I tapped out a response. All fine. Shit flights.

  The phone began ringing seconds later. I glanced at the display and smiled as I answered. “Audrey…”

  “Hey. How are you? Sorry to call, seemed easier than texting.”

  “It’s fine. I literally just got home. How’s Vegas?”

  She laughed. “Vegas is Vegas.” A pause. “Crap pilot hey?”

  “The worst. Bumpy flights and he was nowhere near as attractive as you.” Walking to the kitchen table, I divested myself of my coat and an assortment of bags.

  “Did your meeting go okay?”

  “As well as it could.”

  “I’m glad. I wish you were here…or I was there.” There was no trace of that strange vibe I thought I’d detected during our call the day before. Instead she sounded calm and thoughtful.

  I responded without thinking. “Me too.”

  “What would we be doing if I was there?” Her voice changed, became that deeper, huskier timbre I’d come to know and love. The way it got when she was horny.

  Time to play along. “We’d be naked for sure. On the couch, maybe.” I made my way up to my room, and at the top of the stairs shrugged out of my blouse and tossed it in the general direction of the closet.

  “I like the sound of that.” Fabric rustling,
something heavy hit the floor. “No reason to let distance stop us.”

  “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I turned to look at my neatly made bed.

  “If you think I’m suggesting we have phone sex then yes, yes I am.”

  Excitement traveled straight to my stomach, blooming into soft heat. “How many days is it since I licked you?”

  “Seven,” she answered immediately.

  “Mmm, seven days too many.” Thinking of her under my tongue made my stomach flutter, and when I imagined the way she fisted my hair and urged me on the flutter moved lower.

  “What are you wearing?” Her question was low, sensual.

  The naked desire in her voice turned the flutter to low, insistent pulsing. The woman had me totally conditioned to respond to her. “In a moment it’ll be just underwear.” I stepped out of my skirt, leaving it to pile on the floor.

  “Which ones?”

  “The red set, you know—”

  “With the white. I know exactly the ones. Oh God.” Her voice was strained. “Are you touching yourself?”

  “Not yet. Soon. You?”

  “I am.”

  The thought of her fingering herself instead of me doing it was almost unbearable. “What are you doing? Tell me. Please.” I climbed into bed and settled myself against mountains of pillows.

  “I’ve got my fingers on my clit, Iz, thinking about you licking me, the way your tongue feels on me. In me.”

  “That’s so hot, honey.” My thighs were clenched together. Not yet. Not yet. I closed my eyes, picturing her with a hand between her legs. Making soft, lazy circles over her hard clitoris. Christ. The pressure in mine built until I had to bite my hand, stifling a low moan.

  “I am so horny and you sound so fucking sexy. God, I want you in my mouth. Take off your bra,” she demanded.

  I sat up, unfastening my bra to let my breasts spill free. “Where’s your hand?” I rasped.

  “Your breasts,” she panted. “Iz, touch yourself. Please.”

  My hand slipped up, fingers tweaking my nipples until I felt the tingle running under my skin with each soft pinch. “Audrey,” I breathed.