Talk of the Town

by Sherrill Bodine

  Rebecca found herself on her feet. “Shannon, calm down. Of course I’m not finished at forty-five. I’m in my prime. I’ve never felt better, sexier, or more alive.”

  “The rest of the world doesn’t think so. Look at the tabloids and television. It’s youth they want.” Shannon pushed herself up and took a deep breath. “I admit I didn’t want your job until I realized it would be the perfect intro into print, radio, and television. It’s the perfect start to becoming a media personality. At thirty, I’m ripe for it. You’re too old. I simply helped your inevitable departure along. It was time.”

  Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. “You silly girl. Don’t you know things have changed? Look at Diane Sawyer. At forty-five, if I choose, I’ll be the one doing print and television. I’ll have it all because I paid my dues. I earned it.” Heartsick at all the pain they’d caused each other, Rebecca tried again to reach Shannon. “I’m going to give you some advice I wish I’d gotten when I believed I’d lost the only man for me. Learn from the pain and move on to discover who you really are and what you truly want out of life.”

  “I wanted George, but you made it impossible.” Shannon flicked something suspiciously like tears out of the corners of her eyes. At this moment, she looked very young and very confused.

  Rebecca’s feelings of guilt were gone, replaced by a deep sadness. “Nothing is impossible at any age if you want it badly enough to work hard to get it. I hope you understand that someday.”

  Chapter 20

  On Thanksgiving Day, Rebecca woke up feeling like it was Christmas morning. There was an urgency in the air. The possibilities for wonderful surprises stretched endlessly in front of her.

  Yawning, she glanced at the clock next to her. “No!” she screamed, nearly falling out of bed in her eagerness to get to the kitchen.

  Harry’s written instructions were right where he’d left them last night after they’d finished making the mushroom and water chestnut stuffing. It was already fifteen minutes after the estimated time Harry had calculated for her to begin preparing the turkey to be done for dinner at five.

  She flew around the kitchen, the floor tiles cold on her bare feet. She shivered in her “There comes a time in every woman’s life when the only thing that helps is a glass of champagne” sleep shirt, which fell only to her midthighs.

  She lugged the turkey to the sink to rinse, salt, stuff, and baste. Huffing from hefting the twenty-three-pound bird, she shoved it into the oven and glanced at her watch. She’d cut her losses to eleven minutes.

  Mission accomplished, she collapsed at the kitchen table. Now she had six hours of basting to fill before Harry arrived with the rest of dinner and eight hours to count off until she saw David again.

  Another eight hours to worry whether or not he’d have the same erotic look in his eyes when he saw her. Another eight hours to live in fear that his children would loathe her on sight.

  David time, minus eighty minutes, Kate stood at the door balancing a long, low, lush arrangement of russet roses, cockscomb, sedum, eucalyptus berries, and chocolate cosmos. “This is quite beautiful, but also quite heavy.”

  Kate gladly relinquished one side of the open florist box to Rebecca, and they carried it into the dining room. With Harry’s help they positioned the flowers in the center of the table Rebecca had spread with her granny’s heavy lace cloth.

  Stepping away, he nodded. “Perfection. And I must say, Kate, you are looking quite fetching. Join me in the kitchen for a glass of wine while I cook?”

  Blushing, Kate pulled at the turtleneck of her black cashmere sweater, which perfectly complemented her long red and black plaid skirt. “I believe I will. Are you joining us, Rebecca?”

  “No. Go ahead. I’ll be hovering by the door in stomach-churning fear, which is what I’ve been doing all day.”

  Chuckling, Kate left her to it.

  Rebecca wished she hadn’t given Malcolm her guest list so he wouldn’t have to call her every time someone arrived. Each time the doorbell rang, her heart leaped into her throat.

  David time, minus thirty-five minutes, Pauline walked in, followed by the girls, each carrying a pie.

  “Mine’s apple crumb,” Polly declared, holding it up for Rebecca to admire. “It tastes better than Patty’s pumpkin one.”

  “Does not!” Patty shouted.

  “Take them into the kitchen, girls.” Pauline rolled her eyes. “I brought along the DVD of the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie to watch in your den. It’s our bonding moment together. Me drooling over Johnny Depp, and them screaming for Orlando Bloom.” She gasped. “Rebecca, I love that outfit. It’s wonderful on you. New?”

  “Yes.” She played nervously with the sash on her red Carolina Herrera silk dress. “Wearing this color always gives me courage. What if they don’t like me?”

  “Oh, Rebecca, they’ll love you. We all do.”

  The doorbell rang, and every muscle in Rebecca’s body froze up. “They’re fifteen minutes early!”

  On the second ring, Pauline looked ready to pounce. “Aren’t you going to let them in?”

  “Of course!” Taking her time so she could steady her breathing and compose her face into merely warm interest, Rebecca opened the door.

  The first thing she saw were David’s blue eyes blazing with restrained passion. His soft, smooth mouth curled the way it often did right before he kissed her. She was sure that instead of looking warmly interested, she was smiling like a lovesick adolescent would over Orlando.

  Beside David stood a sharp-featured, exotic beauty who had to be Jasmine. Looming behind her were two tall young men, softer, baby-faced versions of their father.

  “Welcome. Please come in.” Pleased at how normal she sounded, she pulled the door open and stepped back. The foyer was so small and narrow they had to pass through nearly in single file.

  David bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ve missed you, Becky,” he whispered so low only she caught his words. Unappeasable desire, more intense because it was forbidden, at least until dinner was over, fluttered through her.

  David straightened and gently urged Jasmine forward. “I’d like you to meet my daughter-in-law.” Jasmine smiled at David before he moved on into the living room.

  Rebecca wasn’t tall or large in any way, but she felt like a giant next to this dainty young woman in black velvet ballet flats and a black stretch velvet dress that proudly hugged her small bump.

  “Thank you for having us to dinner, Rebecca. I’m a horrible cook, so this is a real treat. Especially for my Ryan.” She cast a loving look over her shoulder at the twin in the blue cashmere sweater. “You can tell this is Ryan because his ears are so much larger than Michael’s.”

  Her besotted husband devoured her with his eyes and laughed. “Jasie is right on all counts.” He held out his hand. “I’m thrilled to be here, Rebecca. And to meet you.”

  Michael, wearing a light blue shirt open at the neck, under a navy blazer, nudged his brother aside. “Sorry we’re early, but Dad couldn’t wait any longer to see you. Now I can tell why. You’re beautiful.”

  The mischievous gleam in his eyes was so reminiscent of David’s she had to laugh. “You’re a chip off the old block, aren’t you, Michael?”

  Michael’s dimple was exactly like his father’s, only on the opposite cheek. “I hope so,” he said before following the others into the living room.

  By the time Rebecca got there, David had made all the introductions and the girls were staring up with wide eyes at both Michael and Ryan.

  “You’re twins!” Polly shouted. “You look ’xactly alike.”

  “We look like twins.” Patty shook her head. “But I’m eleven months older.”

  Michael knelt down to their level. “I can see that. You look much older, Patty.”

  “Want to watch the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie with us?” Polly asked. “We like the monsters in it and Orlando.”

  “Monsters work for me. Lead the way, girls.” They each took a han
d to pull him toward the den, and Michael winked back. “Call us when dinner is ready.”

  Patting her bump, Jasmine strolled to Rebecca’s side. “Michael genuinely loves kids. He’s already bought these little ones swimming trunks and books on marine life. I drew the line at matching baby snorkels.”

  An outrageous thought threaded through Rebecca’s head as she watched Pauline follow the laughing trio into the den. “How old are the twins?”

  “We’re all the same age. Twenty-eight. Ellen and Dad Sumner were married in college. The boys were born on his twenty-first birthday.”

  Rebecca gazed hungrily across the room to where David stood, talking to Kate. “Ellen was his wife and the mother of his children. No wonder he doesn’t want to move on. Excuse me. I’d better check on dinner.” Nearly overcome with emotion, she fled before she burst into tears.

  My God, I have been writing fantasies in my head about David. I needed this reminder that whatever we have won’t be forever.

  An hour later, outwardly calm but inwardly a wreck, Rebecca sat at one end of the dining table, blushing at all the praise for the squash soup. “Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without Harry. He’s the really talented chef.”

  All eyes turned to Harry at the other end of the table. He bowed his head. “It is my pleasure.”

  “Any tips for cooks who aren’t really talented?” Jasmine asked.

  David glanced back at Rebecca and shifted his foot so they were touching under the table. Rebecca always prided herself on her self-control, but now it failed her. She tuned out all talk to study David’s profile next to her. So close she could touch him if she dared. Watching him made her feel the same way she did looking over the edge of a precipice. Her body trembled, her stomach felt hollow, and the urge to jump was overpowering even though she knew it would kill her. Every time, self-preservation pulled her back from the edge. Just like it did now.

  Over turkey and stuffing, David kept casually rubbing his thigh against hers under the table. With a seductive smile, he touched her arm. “Please pass the salt and pepper.”

  Beginning to feel aroused, she fanned herself with her napkin. Since it was warm in the dining area, she hoped no one would think it was unusual.

  By the time she needed to clear the dishes for dessert, David had her in a sensual near-frenzy. She jumped up. “Everyone relax. I’ll get the dessert.” She gathered up a few dirty dinner plates and fled to the kitchen.

  Pauline followed her, balancing dinner plates in her hands. “Oh, let me help you.”

  Kate appeared and pushed up her sleeves. “Six hands are better than two. Where are the dishcloths?”

  While doing dishes, they kept bumping into one another, laughing and taking last tastes of food before they wrapped it up and put it in the refrigerator.

  “You sound like you’re having fun in here. Let me join the party,” Jasmine called from the doorway.

  Pauline gasped. “You should be resting.”

  Jasmine shook her head, sending her thick dark hair swinging around her shoulders. “No way. I want to help.”

  Kate thrust a pie into her hands. “Make the slices small. We’re all on diets.”

  With all four of them working, the pies were on the buffet in record time. Pauline and Kate took in cups and saucers. Carrying the teapot, Jasmine hesitated in the doorway and then turned back.

  “Thank you for making Dad so happy, Rebecca. It’s changed him.” A smile broke across Jasmine’s narrow face. “FYI. We approve. You have our blessings.”

  After Jasmine went back into the dining room, Rebecca’s knees felt weak and she dropped down onto a chair. Her eyes got hot and stingy like she might cry, so she patted cold water around them for five minutes. All the while she was letting a little seed of hope grow. If David had really changed, as his family thought, then maybe it was possible for him to make a commitment. Her mind couldn’t quite wrap around that blissful possibility yet, for fear of deeper disappointment. She plastered on her most confident smile and, carrying more pies, sailed into the dining room.

  After dessert, once Patty and Polly were happily back watching their movie, David turned the conversation to business. He stroked Rebecca’s inner thigh under the table and threw her such a blazing smile she thought she was melting.

  I hope this isn’t my first hot flash!

  “Since my first dinner with Rebecca, I’ve been re-considering my plans for some network programming.” Under the lace tablecloth, David clasped her hand. “Instead of a daytime version of the reality show Defeat Your Demons, I want to do a program on personal financial empowerment for women. Kate’s finance columns have been so well received I can’t think of anyone better qualified to host it.”

  Kate’s cheeks bloomed roses, and her eyes sparkled as everyone at the table applauded. “Thank you. I’m excited about the project.”

  Kate looked thrilled, and Rebecca shared her excitement. David was capable of changing his mind. The idea that he might do the same about committing to her made it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

  She’d told Shannon anything was possible if she wanted it badly enough. And Rebecca wanted David.

  She was having a hot flash. Everything she’d heard about menopause was true. She did want to rip off all her clothes. But she didn’t want a cold shower. She wanted to rip off David’s clothes, too!

  Guilt washed over her in hot waves for wishing their loved ones would leave soon so she and David could get to it. At last those Très Treat pillow covers would come out of her hope chest. She was overcome with such a glorious feeling of being alive.

  I’m not too old, or too jaded, or too afraid to fall madly in love!

  At last Harry suggested having after-dinner drinks in the living room. Everyone followed except for David.

  “I’d like to see how my rosebushes are doing,” he said quietly.

  “Of course.” Desperate to get him alone, Rebecca abandoned her other guests to lead him out onto the dark terrace. Once in the darker shadows by the rosebushes, she turned to cup his face with her hands. His lime aftershave and clean-male scent engulfed her. She loved how firm and dry, yet smooth, his lips felt. He pulled her closer, his hand cradling the back of her head. The kiss hardened and deepened, the heat of their mouths contrasting with the cold Chicago night, making it more secret and delicious hidden here on the terrace.

  “I couldn’t wait,” David sighed, his breath warming her cheek.

  “I know. Let’s send the children home to bed early.”

  In an agony of waiting, Rebecca said good night to her guests. The expressions on everyone’s faces, except Patty’s and Polly’s, told Rebecca they knew exactly why David had rolled up his sleeves, declaring he was staying to help clean up.

  Jasmine looked particularly pleased, giving Rebecca a thumbs-up on the way out the door. At last, they were alone.

  “Come here,” David said softly.

  He pulled her toward him, and nurturing hope, Rebecca watched the intimate, meaningful look as he lowered his face.

  I want this always. In time I’ll convince him he can trust me with his heart. I know it. I feel it in his touch.

  She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to his kiss, her body blossoming, like the rosebushes would when conditions were perfect.

  This is perfect.

  David pulled slightly away, looking down at her. “It was a wonderful evening. They all think you’re great.”

  “Ditto,” she muttered, trembling in anticipation.

  “You’re tense,” he murmured. His hands moved to her shoulders to knead gently. “You need a hot bath to relax. Let’s go.”

  He led her by the hand to her bathroom. The Jacuzzi tub was built for two, but Rebecca had only used it alone.

  Silly, but I’m glad David is the first and only.

  They undressed like comfortable lovers, lazy and sensuous. He settled down in the water first before reaching out to help her step in. She settled between his thighs, her back
resting against his hard chest.

  “Close your eyes and relax. You deserve this after all your hard work,” he whispered in her ear.

  Mesmerized by his voice and his caressing hands, Rebecca leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  The sensation of David slowly rubbing the soapy washcloth down her neck, lingering on her nape, curled desire low in her abdomen, like the hot, moist air swirling around them. She felt him massage the soft cloth across her shoulders and down her arms. All the while, his lips brushed her ear over and over.

  Her fingers curled in anticipation when he reached her stomach and swept up to her rib cage. He stroked beneath her breasts and then to the sides.

  Pleasure rippled through her. She felt his erection at her back, loving that touching her gave him this same pleasure.

  Instead of relaxing, she was finding it hard to breathe, waiting for his hot, soapy touch on her breasts. She wanted to scream at the way he gently massaged her breasts in slower, smaller circles to their burning center. At last he reached her nipples, rubbing ever so gently.

  Desire exploded inside her. She twisted around, straddling his hips, found him beneath the soapy water, and settled herself over him.

  She kissed him deeply, passionately, pouring all her feelings of love and desire into her mouth and the movement of her body over his. She wanted to show him that he could trust her with his heart.

  He held her hips, helping her lift and glide over him, short and long, deeper and harder. Until she became so weak she sobbed for help to prolong it, to keep the spiraling pleasure building higher and higher. Then it was only David’s hands holding her, lifting her over and over and over again. Her breasts crushed to his chest, she clung to his shoulders, lost in the movement, in the sensations ripping through her.

  He arched up hard and tight against her, and throwing back her head, she groaned with the intense, sweet pleasure flowing from him.