by Melissa Good
Her boss smiled charmingly at her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Her eyes twinkled. “I love raisin toast, especially with cream cheese and jelly.”
Kerry eyed her. “With chocolate sprinkles?” she hazarded.
Dar’s eyes brightened. “Got any?”
“Good grief.” Still sleepy, Kerry put the toast up in her four-slice toaster then sidled over, tucking herself against Dar’s left side and wrapping an arm around her waist. “But, you know…” she acknowledged with a stifled yawn,
“I have more in common with you than I do with my sister. Weird.” She considered the differences. “She hates computers; she hates reading; she hates shockingly graphic but curiously satisfying violent movies…”
Dar threaded her fingers into Kerry’s disheveled pale hair and tilted her face up, bending her head down and kissing her gently.
Kerry exhaled softly as they parted. “She’d hate to see that.” Her voice was tinged with wistful sorrow.
“Does she know?” Dar asked seriously. “Do your parents?”
A single shake of Kerry’s head. “No, they have no idea. They don’t even suspect.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “How did yours react?”
Dar hesitated as the scent of toasting cinnamon filled the kitchen, along with that of fresh coffee. “My father knew before I told him. He…” She 292 Melissa Good laughed softly. “I thought he was going to lose it if I told him. I couldn’t tell him for the longest time because I thought he…I thought he would be disappointed.”
The toast popped up, and Kerry reluctantly let go of her companion and removed it, spreading some butter on each piece and pouring Dar a cup of coffee. “He wasn’t?” she finally asked, hesitantly.
Dar took a bite, and chewed. “No, it was almost…what he told me was…” She cleared her throat. “Let me see if I can imitate him. ‘Lookee here, Dardar, just because the generals yap about that don’t ask don’t tell crap, don’t mean there ain’t lots of boys that don’t like to share a foxhole, if you know what I mean?’ ”
Kerry took a sip of her coffee and muffled a chuckle. “Oh, I always wondered about that. I saw a special about aircraft carriers once, where they have all those tiny bunks all on top of each other.”
“Eyah. Well, we had a long talk about it, then we went over to Sawgrass Mills and spent the afternoon comparing our tastes in women.” Dar shook her head ruefully. “That was really strange.” She studied Kerry’s bowed head seriously. “Kerry?”
“Hmm?” The blonde woman glanced up. “You’re so lucky. I can’t imagine sitting down and…Jesus, he’d kill me.” She gave her head a little shake, then glanced at the window. “Um, it’s getting late, I guess we’d better get going. I know I have to…” Dar had set her coffee down and put a hand on either side of Kerry’s face, gazing down at her. “What?”
“If you need to talk, you can,” the dark-haired woman said quietly. “I’ll listen.”
Kerry felt her breath become short, and she sucked in air nervously, hunting through Dar’s expression and searching the blue eyes intently. “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean, Dar.”
A quiet hurt filled the blue eyes. “All right.” Dar dropped her hands.
“Anyway, the offer’s out there.” She picked up her cup and took a swallow, half turning away. “Guess I’d better get going.” A feather touch on her arm made her glance over her shoulder to see pained and confused green eyes peering at her.
“We don’t have time right now,” Kerry got out, as though the words were dragged from her. “But…I’ll take you up on that offer later.”
Dar put an arm around her neck and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “That’s a deal.” She felt the blonde woman snuggle closer, almost huddling against her. Who hurt Kerry? It was obvious to Dar that someone had, and a dark, bubbling anger erupted in her at the thought. “Lemme go get poked and prodded. Meet you back at the office, okay? On the way back, I’m going to stop by my place to change.”
Kerry plucked at the cutoff sweatshirt and faded jeans. “I think you look just fine.” She broke out of her funk and gave Dar a smile. “Guess the office would be scandalized, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” Dar snorted. “I’d never hear the end of that.” She caught Kerry’s lips again, and this time took her time, feeling the smaller woman collapse against her. She let her hands run down Kerry’s back, touching and rubbing gently, until she felt the blonde woman’s ribs expand sharply as her Tropical Storm 293
breathing roughened, and her touch started sliding across Dar’s belly, searching for a path to her skin. They both broke off, breathing hard, hands still exploring, until Kerry let her forehead rest against Dar’s collarbone.
“Gonna be a long day.” Dar sighed wryly.
“Oh yeah,” Kerry agreed. “Did you have to do that?”
A soft chuckle. “Don’t forget to set up that staff meeting for Friday. If I don’t go over all this fourth quarter stuff with everyone, Mariana’s going to have a cow.” She glanced around, then touched her belt. “Did I…oh, damn.”
Kerry also looked around in some alarm. “What?”
“Forgot my cell phone.” Dar tapped the side of her head. “I’m losing it. I don’t know where my brains been the past few days. Even Maria said something about it.” She gave Kerry one last hug. “Oh well. See you in the office.”
“See you.” Kerry reluctantly let her go and watched her leave in pensive silence. Then she looked down and plucked at her shirt, realizing she had it on inside out. And backwards. “Jesus.” She softly tapped the side of her own head. “That makes two of us.”
DAR WAITED QUIETLY as an efficient and far too cheerful nurse poked her arm with a needle roughly the size of an Olympic javelin.
“Just a moment, dearie. It won’t hurt a bit.”
“You shouldn’t lie to patients,” Dar growled, feeling the lancing pain as the needle found its mark. “It’s not nice.”
“Now, now.” The nurse patted her arm. “We don’t want our patients worrying unless they need to. It’s nothing but a prick.”
“I’ve been saying that about guys for years,” Dar remarked, trying not to look at the vial filling with the rich, red blood coming out of her arm.
“What?” the nurse queried.
Dar rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
The door pushed open, and Dr. Steve poked his head in. “Hey, sweetpea.”
Dar glared daggers at him, receiving a charming smile in return. The nurse finished, removing the tube, covering the seeping needle hole quickly with a cotton ball and tightly stretching a Band-Aid over it all. “There you go, all done.” She bustled out, leaving Dar with her doctor.
“C’mon, c’mon, stop with the sour look, Dar.” Dr. Steve came in and leaned on the examination table where she was sitting. “I hear you had a moment of terror at the Heart Institute.”
Blue eyes regarded him dourly. “I got over it.”
“Ooo, aren’t we tough.” Dr. Steve laughed and patted her knee. “You can play that corporate killing machine with other people, Dar, but I’ve known you since you weren’t tall enough to lick my knees, so don’t try it with me.”
Dar scowled. “Did she leave any blood in there? She must have taken six quarts.”
He waved her off. “Psh. Two vials, you big baby. How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” his reluctant patient admitted. “Took a few days off, went up to Orlando and just played tourist for a couple days.” She paused. “Haven’t had 294 Melissa Good a headache since the day after I was here last time.”
“Really?” Dr. Steve gave her a skeptical look. “You’re not just saying that are you, tricky girl? I remember you saying that broken arm didn’t hurt much either.”
Dar had to smile at the memory, bittersweet though it was. “I’m not,” she replied. “I’ve really been trying to be good.”
He nodded. “All-rightie, then.” Gentle hands lifted and turned her face to the light as he peered at
her intently. “Hmm, interesting.”
“What?” Dar queried, a touch nervously.
“Nothing, I just love looking at those baby blues,” Dr. Steve answered mischievously as his patient rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Dar, you do look more relaxed.” He patted her shoulder. “Glad to hear about the headaches.
We’ll just check your blood, see how you’re doing. I want to look at your white cell count. That was very low last time.”
Something else occurred to her. “While you’re there…I’ve been running into some…I don’t know, I guess I’ve been forgetting things lately,” Dar muttered. “And I’ve been having trouble concentrating. It’s starting to bug me a little.”
“Mmm?” Now her doctor’s face was serious. “All right, I’ll check to see if there’s anything strange in your blood work, but it probably won’t show up there. You having dizzy spells, or problems with your vision?” He put on his stethoscope and listened to her chest. “Ticker sounds all right.”
“No, well, not dizzy, exactly.” Dar struggled to explain. “Just, I’ll be doing something, and I’ll just go blank, like my attention gets distracted,” she said. “I walked out last night and left my cell phone in the condo. Last time I did that… Hell, I don’t remember the last time I did that.”
“Hmm.” Dr. Steve pressed against her shoulder. “Lie down.”
Dar did, letting her eyes close and feeling the pressure cuff tighten against her bicep. Her mind drifted, thinking of the coming day. Or to be more precise, the coming night, and she found herself thinking of Kerry, and those warm, green eyes, and…
“Dar?”
She opened her eyes, to see the doctor regarding her in puzzled concern.
“Damn, sorry.” She sighed. “See what I mean?”
Dr. Steve leaned against the table, a lock of gray hair dropping down over his forehead. “I don’t understand. Your pressure is fine; your heart sounds fine. Maybe I should schedule you for a CT scan,” he suggested warily.
Dar rubbed her eyes. “Maybe,” she muttered.
“You saying that without arguing means your pretty head’s probably about to pop off.” He shook his head. “Well, let me go run a quick scan on the blood and see if I see anything. Go wait in my office. I think I have the new PC
World in there.”
“Oh, great,” Dar grumbled. “Just what I need—to read all about the new bugs.” She hopped off the table, though, and made her way to Dr. Steve’s comfortable office, slouching in an armchair and picking up the indicated magazine. “Where’s the cartoon? At least I can laugh at that.”
Tropical Storm 295
“HEY! KERRY!”
KERRY turned, her fingers sliding on the strap of her briefcase as she spotted Mark Polenti catching up to her. “Hi. Morning.”
Mark’s eyes fastened on Kerry’s face for an instant, then he looked aside again without comment. “Listen.” He looked around quickly and asked, “You know where the boss is?” His voice was low and urgent.
Kerry paused in momentary indecision. “Um…”
“They’ve been trying to call her all night, and she’s not picking up,” Mark said. “We dropped the ball on the payroll transfer last night and we needed her sign off on a workaround.”
Oh. Damn. “Why didn’t you call me?” Kerry asked. “Maybe her cell’s down.”
Mark sidestepped the question. “I was kinda worried. I called the condo.”
Kerry looked him in the eye. “She’s at a doctor’s appointment,” she said.
“So I guess we should go upstairs and clean up the mess before she gets here, shouldn’t we?”
Two women walked past them, giving them wary looks. Mark waited for them to pass before he answered. “Uh, yeah, sure.” His uncertainty showed on his face. “But you talked to her right? She’s okay?”
Kerry was torn between wanting to believe Mark was just honestly worried about Dar, and the knowledge that loose talk could seriously damage both of them. “I talked to her this morning,” she finally said. “She’s fine.”
Mark cocked his head a little. “So I guess her cell’s okay.”
Bleeping damn. “She called me,” Kerry replied in an even tone. “I really don’t know where she was calling from, but it doesn’t matter. Let’s go take care of business.” She started toward the elevator. “You can ask her about it when she shows up, right?”
“Um. Sure.” Mark caught up to her and they walked together to the elevator. “Sorry they didn’t call you. I guess we’re not really used to having a Dar Junior.”
She was about to hit the button, but Kerry stopped and glanced at him as he looked uneasily back at her. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said after a long pause, swiping the control and walking through the sliding doors as they opened. She almost wished they would be joined by some of the anonymous secretarial staff in the lobby, but the elevator closed and they faced each other for the long ride up.
Mark stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, whistling softly under his breath.
Dar Junior. Kerry studied the inlaid tile on the floor of the elevator . Dar would probably laugh like a nut at that.
“Um.” Mark cleared his throat. “Hey, um…can I ask you something?”
Uh oh. Kerry looked warily up at him. “Am I going to regret saying yes?”
“Maybe. Yeah.”
Kerry sighed. “Can I get some coffee first?”
DAR HAD READ through over half the magazine before she heard 296 Melissa Good steady footsteps on the carpet and looked up as Dr. Steve ambled in, a folder under his arm and a peculiar look on his fact. “Finished?” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got a million problems waiting for me at the office.”
The stocky, gray-haired man put the folder down and dropped into his seat, folding his hands over his belly and gazing at her. “Well, my friend, your stress indicators are down, that’s for sure.”
Dar let a small smile tug at her lips. “That’s good.”
He nodded. “Mmm. Yes, I was glad to see it. I also ran an analysis for hormones and other anomalies, and I think I might have figured out what your little forgetfulness problem is. Maybe or maybe not.”
Dar sat up and cocked her head. “Yeah?”
He nodded solemnly. “Yes, I’m afraid you have elevated levels of endorphins in your bloodstream, my friend, especially oxytocin.”
Dar was taken aback. “Oh.” She paused, a little alarmed. “What is that?
What causes it?”
Dr. Steve rubbed his nose. “Well, it’s a naturally occurring hormone.
Basically, it’s one of the things responsible for making us feel good. Your body releases it under certain circumstances, and it’s known to produce the symptoms you’re describing.”
Dar considered that. “What circumstances?”
“Mmm, in some cases, exercise. Especially long-distance running,” Dr.
Steve mentioned. “Do you do that?”
She shrugged. “Six, eight miles in a morning.”
“Did you do that this morning?” Dr. Steve asked.
Dar shook her head. “I…no.” She hesitated. “Not this morning.”
“Not that, then.” The doctor steepled his fingers. “You take any opiates?”
“What?” Dar’s brow contracted sharply. “Dr. Steve, you goddamn well know better.”
A hand raised. “Okay, okay, just asking.” A tiny grin chased itself around his lips. “That eliminates two of the three most common causes.”
“What’s the third, eating chocolate?” Dar chuckled.
“Falling in love,” Steve quietly replied. “Oxytocin is the hormone that stimulates the need for touching.”
Dar simply stared at him, her jaw sagging slightly, and her eyes blinking.
“That’s…ah, no, Steve, I don’t…” She ran a hand through her hair. “That’s not…”
“Dar, relax.” The doctor leaned forward. “Breathe, okay? I don’t want you keeling over in my office, it
looks bad to the nurses.” He regarded her with fond affection. “My god, you’d think I just said you were pregnant or something. There’s nothing wrong with being in love, my friend.” He smiled.
“It’s good for you.”
“But I’m…” Dar tried to force the words out, but they just weren’t coming. Jesus, this can’t be happening. Her mind flashed back to her own words to Kerry, what seemed like forever ago. It’s like your body knows. “Are you…is that all, Dr. Steve?”
“Sure.” He gazed at her in quiet compassion. “Go take a walk, Dar. Get some air. You’re white as a sheet.”
Nodding absently, she walked out, not really sure where she was going Tropical Storm 297
until she was outside, where she mechanically found her car and opened the door, collapsing into the seat and leaning against the steering wheel. “He’s crazy. He doesn’t know what he’s…I’m not…”
She stared at the instrument panel, thinking about the past few days.
Thinking about how she felt. Thinking about how Kerry made her feel, and how just the impact of those green eyes on hers sent daggers of emotion stabbing through her. About how hugging Kerry made her happier than just about anything else ever had. About how she’d driven out in the middle of the night just to check on a little bump on the head and jeopardized a major account to keep from looking bad in front of her—setting aside the slowly creeping knowledge that for the first time in a long time she’d found something she cared about more than her job and her settled, predictable life.
Slowly, she leaned back, letting her arms fall to her thighs as the inescapable realization hit her. Son of a bitch. I am in love. A faint laugh forced its way out of her chest. Then she gripped the steering wheel and stared out through the tinted windows. Now what do I do?
“OKAY, LOOK, IT’S only a bulletin board,” Kerry said, gazing patiently at the short, upset woman sitting across from her desk. “I know it’s something everyone likes, but the drive array went down, and they have to replace it.”
“But you don’t understand…we had important messages on there,” the woman stated in agitation.
