THE CHRONICLES OF STELLA RICE:
APRIL
By
Adrienne Kama
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THE STELLA RICE CHRONICLES: APRIL
Copyright (c) 2005 by Adrienne Kama
ISBN: 1-59836-046-9
Cover art and design (c) 2005 by Marianne LaCroix
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.
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Chapter One
The Bet
4/7/05, 10:23 a.m.
Two days till the Outer Banks! I can’t wait! Ocean views, sunshine, Jacuzzi, and Jake and Dev in Speedos. Who could ask for more?
Can’t think clear enough to get anything productive done, so Ann and I have given ourselves the day off. We didn’t have much work to do anyway. We had our last client consultation on Wednesday, so no new assignments have come in. In fact, we’re not meeting with another client until the week after next. Why? Because we’re taking a vacation! WooHoo!
Oh! The girls are here.
Gotta go shop.
8:33 p.m.
Ann pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the Walgreen’s and put the truck in park. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that we weren’t sitting in a parking lot, but on a busy Baltimore street. And I was too tired to tell her.
I pulled on the passenger’s handle and shoved the door wide. “What kind of toothpaste do you want?”
Busy scanning the CD’s in her CD holder, Ann muttered something unintelligible.
“Huh?”
“It should be here, Stella.”
Katarina leaned into the front seat and looked doubtfully at the CD case in Ann’s lap. “But it’s not. Meagan and I already looked.”
“Shit. If I knew it was gone, I would have gotten another one when we were at the mall. Maybe we should go back.”
A girl could only take so much. I didn’t have that much strength. Shopping with Ann, Katarina, and Meagan had sucked all the energy out of me. The problem was that none of us had the same taste in clothes. Katarina was a designer junkie; Meagan didn’t shop retail anymore, but preferred to buy her designer wear from consignment boutiques, while Ann wasn’t into designer names or wearing the latest fashions. She preferred jeans and a T-shirt to cropped pants and cutesy shirts any day of the week. But she was so particular about the jeans and T-shirts she wore, she’d nearly driven us all crazy. She’d spent a good two hours finding the perfect boot-cut, low-waist, pants.
But I couldn’t complain since it was my idea to drive to the other side of the world—Columbia—so we could go to the Nordstrom in Columbia Mall. Nordstrom had a MAC counter, and MAC made the best makeup in existence.
All in all, I was ready to go home.
“Maybe you left it at home,” Meagan was saying.
Ann shook her head. “How much you wanna bet Gerard took it? He’s terrified he’s gonna have to listen to Justin Timberlake all the way to North Carolina.”
I slid off the seat and out into the chilly air. “Guess he’s pretty much ensured it now.”
“Damn straight.”
“Toothpaste?”
Ann shrugged. “Anything that has whitening in the name.”
I shut the door and turned. A brief shudder past through my body when a cool night breeze swept past me and up the sleeves of my jacket.
“I’m coming too,” Katarina called to me as I started across the sidewalk.
When I turned to wait, I saw she wasn’t carrying her purse. I figured this meant she wasn’t interested in shopping so much as getting me alone. In the dark I couldn’t make out any of her features so I couldn’t decide if something was wrong or not. I’d have to wait till we were inside.
We pushed through the doors of the store and began our search for the toothpaste section. After five minutes of this, I sighed and turned to Katarina.
“So what’s up?” I asked.
Pointing at a shelf a few feet away from us, she announced, “Toothpaste.”
I followed her up the wide aisle and watched for a moment as she scanned the various brands. “Katarina,” I said again, “what’s up? I know you didn’t come with me because you’re suddenly concerned with Ann’s oral hygiene. So what gives? Is something wrong?”
Katarina’s shoulders slumped, then took a step toward me and focused on her feet. “I was wondering, Stella,” she whispered, as though everyone in the store was hanging on to our every word. “Do you still have that plug thingy?”
I stared at her, completely at a loss. “Plug thingy?”
“Shhh!” Her head swiveled to the left and right as she darted furtive glances around the store. “Someone might hear.”
We were the only people in the aisle; nevertheless, I humored her and lowered my volume. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know. The thing Ann ordered online for you last month.”
Still perplexed, I frowned and tried to figure out what she was talking about. Then all at once, realization dawned. I gasped, and then laughed. “You mean the butt plug?”
“Stella! Hush! Someone might hear.” Again, she scanned around for possible spies.
In an attempt to staunch my laughter, I covered my mouth with both hands. Unfortunately, this didn’t work.
“Stella. Come on, this is serious.”
The plaintive look in Katarina’s wide brown eyes as she stared levelly at me finally did me in. Forcing a serious expression onto my face, I met Katarina’s gaze. “Yeah, I have it. It came in the mail after I’d already had anal—”
“Shhh! So you haven’t used it?”
“No need. Jake—”
Katarina grimaced. “Did it hurt?”
I sighed at the memory. “It was a little uncomfortable at first, but after I relaxed it felt good. Really good. Why?”
Katarina edged closer. Seemed the closer she got to me, the more I had to struggle to hear what she was saying. “Jim and I decided to forgo the exhibitionism for that. It’s more intimate and easier to accomplish.” She paused and gazed at the numerous brands of toothpaste on the shelf in front of us. “Only, I’m thinking it would be good to be prepared for it before we actually do it.”
I thought briefly of telling her to forget the plug in favor of letting Jim walk her through it, but refrained. My first time having anal sex had been good due to Jake’s gentleness with me. He’d soothed me and aroused me, made sure I was in the perfect frame of mind before he’d even attempted penetration. As a result, the experience—and all subsequent experiences—had been wonderful. But, Jim might not be as good a lover as Jake is. If he wasn’t, it might be a good idea for her to try the plug the first time around.
“You can definitely use it,” I offered, feeling worldly and generous. I was, after all, a sexual sophisticate these days. Over the last few months I’d come to see myself as a sexual adventurer, charting new territory and exploring forbidden lands. The least I could do was use m
y expertise to help a friend. “It’s still in the package.”
“Can you pack it up and bring it with you to North Carolina?”
I nodded, sagely. “Of course. Say no more.”
Chapter Two
4/9/05, 4:27 a.m.
Dear God, it’s not even four-thirty yet. I don’t have to be up till five. That leaves me thirty more minutes of sleep. No one’s coming till six anyway.
Hate getting up early. Need thirty more minutes of rest, and then I’ll get up.
5:33 a.m.
Oh shit! I overslept. Have less than thirty minutes to get ready.
Gotta go.
6:17 a.m.
I should have known nobody would get here on time. Though I have to admit, I thought Jake and Dev would arrive promptly at six sharp. Jake is such a stickler for being on time…
Ha! The doorbell. Can’t wait to tell Jake how late he is.
6:23 a.m.
Wasn’t Jake or Dev. Was Ann and Gerard. Hope all is well with Jake and Dev, as, it’s not like them to be this late.
Gerard volunteered to lug my bags to the truck. Familiar with the various items in my suitcases and their combined heft, I welcomed the offer.
Ann and Gerard have been super couple since becoming engaged. Being around them whenever they’re together is like being with two complete strangers. It’s unnerving at times.
There’s the bell. Bet that’s Jake and Dev.
6:42 a.m.
Argh! Was not Jake and Dev. Was Katarina and Jim.
Currently, the two are ogling each other on the sofa.
Where the hell are Jake and Dev?
~*~
6:49 a.m.
Meagan and Peter have arrived. It’s nearly seven and still no Jake or Dev. What the hell is going on?
Guess I’ll give them a call, but they better not be home to answer.
6:51 a.m.
“What do you mean you’re not coming?”
Everyone in the living room turned to look at me, but I didn’t care. I was too stunned by what Jake was telling me.
I continued to shout into the phone. “Why not?”
“Dev’s sick. He’s been up half the night with a fever. I’m sorry baby, but he can’t travel like this.” He paused and I figured he was waiting for me to jump to the obvious next conclusion.
“And you can’t leave him,” I said at last.
“No. I can’t.”
“Does he have the flu or something?”
“I don’t know. He’s showering now. I’m taking him to the doctor.”
“Poor Dev. Maybe I should stay home too,” I began, but Jake interrupted.
“No, I want you to go. If he has the flu I don’t want you getting it. He could be contagious.”
“But I can’t have a good time if I know you two are so miserable.”
“I want you to go. Dev’ll feel awful if you stay behind and miss the beach. He knows how much you’ve been looking forward to it.”
“But—”
“If he starts to feel better, we’ll drive down and spend the rest of the week with you.”
I considered. I supposed that was better than nothing. “I’ll miss you both.”
“We’ll miss you too, Stella. You better go now.”
We disconnected.
Heaving myself to my feet, I picked up my purse and announced, “Dev’s sick and Jake is playing nurse. Let’s hit the road.”
I shook my head in vehement objection to the sympathy that had begun flowing in my direction. The last thing I needed was for my friends to feel sorry for me. Already I felt bad enough. If I sank any lower I wouldn’t want to go, and what good would that do me? Jake was right. Dev could be contagious. I definitely didn’t want to catch the flu, nor did I want to disappoint Ann, Katarina, and Meagan. This little trip had been all we’d been talking about for weeks. If I pulled out now they’d be hurt and upset.
“I’m fine,” I threw over my shoulder as I marched to the foyer. “Who wants to drive first?”
10:26 a.m.
The calm of Gerard and Ann had lasted for longer than anyone had thought possible. Unfortunately, it ruptured somewhere in Virginia after Ann tried to put Justin Timberlake into the CD player.
“No fucking way!” Gerard shouted, driving one-handed so he could cover the stereo with his other hand.
Calmly, Ann suggested Gerard move his hand from the CD player or risk losing a digit.
“I don’t want to hear Justin Timberlake,” he insisted. “Nobody wants to hear Justin Timberlake.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Ann swung around and faced the back of the truck, chin rigid and eyes narrowed to slits. She looked prepped for a fight. “Who here likes Justin Timberlake?”
As could be expected, Katarina, Meagan, and I voiced our approval of the young star. “He’s a great singer,” I elaborated. “And a fantastic songwriter. I like him.”
“All women like him,” Jim offered.
Katarina, whose head had been resting on Jim’s shoulder, bolted upright. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Er…just that he’s popular with the ladies.”
“And what’s wrong with being popular with women?” Ann demanded. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with a women’s taste? Are you implying that women are somehow less equipped to judge a good song than men are? Are you saying our opinions are less valid because we don’t have dicks?”
Seeing the mistake he’d made by opening his mouth in the first place, Jim tried desperately to back pedal. “No. Of course not. Some of the smartest people I know are women. I only meant to say—”
“There you go.” Gerard thumped the steering wheel with his palm, causing everyone to look at him. “Jim is absolutely right. If a guy is cute enough women will buy his CD.” Gerard had to raise his voice to be heard over the feminine outcries and protests that followed that statement. “You know it’s true!”
Jim began to nod his agreement, then decided against it when he saw the glare Katarina had focused on him.
As the tumult died down, Ann began again. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Gerard. Its women who think with their heads. Guys think with their dicks. For example, the entire career of Britney Spears.”
I cheered Ann on. “You go girl!”
“Here! Here!” Meagan called from beside me.
Masculine groans filled the truck.
“Britney’s gorgeous,” Gerard explained, “but I’ve never spent a penny on any of her CD’s.”
In the rearview mirror, Gerard’s eyes roved until he found Peter. It was a little unnerving to see him take his eyes off the road for so long.
“What do you think Peter?” Gerard was asking. “You’ve been silent back there.”
Peter, who was sitting at the end of my row beside Meagan, shook his head. “Hey man, whatever makes my baby happy. She wants to hear Justin Timberlake, guess I’ll be listening to Justin Timberlake.”
Peter’s approval rating—already high—went up another notch in my book.
Katarina and I clapped, while Meagan snuggled closer to him. The two kissed.
“Ha!” Ann said. A moment later “Senorita”, the first track on “Justified” poured from the truck’s speakers.
12:24 p.m.
I gazed out the truck window, watching the world go by and trying not to think about how much the coming week would suck.
I should have stayed home, plain and simple. What was the point of spending a week with Ann, Katarina, and Meagan and their boyfriends? Though I knew they’d do their best to include me in whatever they did, I’d still be odd man out. My presence would make it difficult for them to have romantic dinners, romantic strolls on the beach…romantic anything’s. The cozy bonfires in the sand that we’d planned were down the tubes too. I knew my friends, knew how much they cared about my feelings. They’d keep their boyfriends at a distance whenever I was around just so they could be sure they didn’t make me feel bad about being on my own.
/>
I should have stayed home.
“Stop it Stella.”
I turned from the window and met Meagan’s eyes. “Stop what?”
“You’re not a fifth wheel.”
“Technically I’m a seventh wheel.”
“Stop it. You are not and you know it. Nobody cares that Jake and Dev couldn’t come. You can still have a good time without them. Or have you become one of those women who cease to exist whenever her boyfriend isn’t around?”
I smiled despite myself. “It’s not that Meagan.”
Meagan folded her arms over her chest and frowned. “I know. You’re worried about ruining our weekend. You’ve said that about a million times already. And I’ve already told you that you couldn’t possibly ruin our weekend. Our weekend would have been ruined if you didn’t come.” She nudged my ribs with her elbow. “It wouldn’t be a vacation without you, Stella.”
Seated a row in front of us, Katarina swiveled around. With her brows furrowed and her mouth clenched so tight her pink lips had blanched white, she eyed me. “And you have to help me with the thingy.”
I’d forgotten about that. Good thing for Katarina I’d packed the butt plug last night.
I nodded. “I know.”
“Good.” Katarina smiled, turned, and then rested her head on Jim’s shoulder.
“What thingy?” Jim was asking.
“Oh, nothing,” Katarina said.
10:27 p.m.
This sucks! It sucks worse than I imagined it would.
The rental is gorgeous, of course. Meagan did an amazing job finding it. It’s a Victorian cottage—on stilts—that overlooks the ocean. Festooned with faux antique furniture, with original art placed decoratively on the walls, the home was pretty while maintaining an ambience of welcome and comfort. Nevertheless, it took me a good ten minutes of contemplation before I decided sitting on the bed was safe. Whoever made it up before we got here had done so with a thoroughness that made me hesitant to rumple the linen. After a few moments of sitting and thinking, I got up and stripped the bed, replacing it with sheets I’d brought from home. I’d take the other linens down to the laundry room in the morning.
THE CHRONICLES OF STELLA RICE: APRIL Page 1
