Unmasking Love: A Holiday for Romance

by Peggy Bird

  “A Godfather reference. Hmm. Not sure what to think of that.” He finished off his second cup of coffee, pushed his now-empty plate away, and lounged back in his chair. “You know what I have to offer. Long hours and plenty of stress, a decent but not great salary, and the best office furniture the county could afford in the nineteen-eighties. Then there’s the good stuff—the chance to make a real difference in the world, to nail the bastards who need nailing, and the opportunity to do it all in a very public and sometimes spectacular way. The question is, are you interested?”

  “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

  “Tell me why you decided to come talk to me.”

  “Part of it is what you said before—I sometimes miss the challenge of arguing a court case. I loved the work I did for you. It was exciting, rewarding.” She fiddled with the spoon on her saucer. “But mostly I’m here because it seems I haven’t gotten past how it ended. I know I made a huge mistake in judgment with Paul, but I didn’t think—don’t think—I deserved to be treated like a pariah after it all ended.”

  “I’m sorry you felt that way. It wasn’t anyone’s intention—certainly not mine—to make you feel like an outcast.”

  “Whatever the intentions were, it’s how it came across. And why part of me looks at this as a chance to redeem myself. To let go of what happened, so I can get on with my life.”

  “If I offer you the job, will you stick around after you feel you’ve found what you’re looking for, or will you take off again for parts unknown?”

  “If I’m offered it and if I take it, I’ll be as committed as I was when I worked for you before. You have my word on it.”

  He looked at her long and hard. “Then we understand each other. I’d like you to think about this seriously. And I will, too. I have two other candidates to interview and I should be able to make a decision by next week. You have until then to decide what you want.”

  He waved to the server for the bill. “I think—I know—you’d be an asset to the office. The question is, can we still give you what you want for your professional life? Only you have the answer.” He threw down a credit card and added, “Now I have to get to work. Busy day. As usual.”

  Surely her surprise showed on her face. “That’s the interview? Don’t I have to give you a résumé or go back to the office with you so you can, I don’t know, ask me about … something?”

  Jeff laughed. “I can get your personnel file if I need to remind myself where you went to law school, and I assume you’re still a member in good standing with the Oregon bar. I wanted two things out of this meeting. One, to let you know face-to-face how serious I am about considering you for this opening and, two, to find out how interested you are. I hope I’ve done the first, and you’ve certainly been honest about the second.”

  He signed the credit card receipt and stood. “But if you want to walk back to the office with me, you might see how comfortable you’d be back where I think you belong. And I’m sure Margo would like to see you. She said she didn’t have much time to catch up with you in Ashland. Although I have to say, the details on how you looked and who you were with were quite complete.”

  “She’s always been good at details.”

  That’s it. An embargo on the word good. For the day at least. Maybe for the month.

  • • •

  The last time Julie had been in the courthouse, she’d been surreptitiously boxing up her personal things, so she could sneak out without anyone noticing. Today, thanks to Margo Keyes, who saw her as soon as she walked in, she couldn’t avoid attention.

  After an hour or so of what were, to Julie’s surprise, comfortable conversations with a dozen or more people, Margo chased everyone out of her office and said, “How about a cup of coffee someplace outside the building where we can have a little privacy and talk?”

  As soon as they settled in the nearest Starbucks, Margo broke the ice. “I’m sure you told Jeff everything about your practice in Ashland, so we don’t have to go over the subject again—I’ll dig it out of him later. Tell me about Trey.”

  “It’s Trace. And what’s to tell? He’s the bank manager for the Northwest Savings and Loan branch in town. He’s smart, fun to be with …”

  “Sexy as hell from the look of him. How did you meet him?”

  “In an unusual way, I guess you can say. I was representing a group of clients suing his bank.” She was tempted to tell Margo the truth, to explain about meeting him in costume, about dumping hot coffee on him. It was the sort of story a woman shared with her female friends. Or a woman she’d like to have for a friend.

  But Julie knew Margo and Jeff might talk, might compare notes. And if she was going to work in that office again, she had to be careful who knew about the unorthodox way she’d met Trace. The last thing she needed was to have them think she still had bad judgment when it came to men.

  “So you’re saying you threatened to sue him, and he fell for you?”

  Julie laughed. “It was a little more complicated, but it’s close.”

  “If it’s as good between you two as it looked when I saw you in the theater, why would you ever leave town?”

  “I haven’t decided yet whether I am leaving town. First, the job hasn’t been offered to me. Second, I don’t know if I’ll accept it.”

  “Better work on the answer to the second part, because I’d be shocked if you weren’t offered the job. The other two candidates are good lawyers, but neither has your skill or experience. One hasn’t ever worked in a D.A.’s office, but has handled cases involving fraud. The other doesn’t know shit about fraud, but is smart and has worked in a D.A.’s office in Washington State. Jeff would rather have it all in one person so he doesn’t have to be a babysitter through the first couple years.”

  Julie fidgeted in her seat. “I’ve been driving Trace nuts with my indecision. He’s used to giving orders and having people do what he says. This in-between stuff isn’t his style.”

  “Giving orders? Even to you? You’re not exactly the type I’d imagine following them too easily.” Margo cocked her head and pursed her mouth. “Unless, of course, you like the orders he’s giving.” She took a sip of her coffee and almost spit it out when she looked across the table. “Oh, my God, you’re blushing. I’ve never seen you blush. He must be one hell of a man to …”

  “Can we move to another topic, please? This is getting too embarrassing.”

  “Sure. What would you like to talk about other than your hot guy who makes you obey him?”

  “Jesus, Margo. Now I’m glad I never got into girly chats with you before. You’re terrible.”

  “No, according to my husband, I’m funny and cute. At least that’s how he describes me when I do the same thing to him.”

  “How is the gorgeous Detective Alessandro?”

  “Fine. He loves his job. Has started riding a bike, can you believe, after years of only riding a motorcycle. Oh, and we’re pregnant.”

  “Wow. Congratulations.” Julie raised her coffee cup in a toast. “You don’t look it.”

  “I’m only three months. We’ve just started to tell people about the rather large change in our lives that will arrive in six months.”

  “Whether it’s a boy or a girl, with you two for parents, you’ll have a smart, beautiful child.” Julie’s mind wandered briefly to what a baby she and Trace created would be like. She shook her head to get the thought out of it.

  Margo’s phone buzzed. She looked at it, then said, “Text from Kiki reminding me about a deposition. Time for me to get back to the courthouse. Before I do, let me stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong. As much as I want you to come back to Portland so we can start over with knowing each other, please don’t make this decision based on some idea of proving something to the office. You don’t need to prove a damn thing to anyone. You deserve to be happy now, not stuck in the past. And believe me, you sure looked happy with Trace.”

  “I am. And I’ll think about what you said. I promise. It means a
lot coming from you.”

  The two women stood, and Margo hugged Julie hard and long. This time Julie hugged her back. She kept one hand on Margo’s shoulder, paused for a moment, then continued. “You know, I never really thanked you for what you did two years ago. In spite of the fact we weren’t close, you stuck up for me. Even helped me in those awful interrogations with the police and the FBI. So, though it’s a little late, thank you.”

  “You did thank me. And I didn’t do anything other than make sure you had every right you were entitled to. It’s what lawyers do, I hear.”

  “No, you did more than protect my rights. You offered me your support when everyone else turned away from me.” Julie smiled. “I’d say I’d return the favor, but I don’t think you’ll ever need it.”

  “You never know. I hear pregnancy hormones are a bitch. I might snap, and who knows what I’ll do? Maybe you should give me your card, just in case.”

  Chapter 17

  At least the drive back to Ashland was less cluttered with trucks, stupid drivers, and wet roads than the drive up to Portland had been. Unfortunately, even with dry roads, five hours wasn’t long enough to get anything resolved. In fact, Julie was more confused than ever. She’d been happy to be back in Portland but was excited when she saw the sign announcing Ashland was one exit away. She’d enjoyed talking with Margo and wanted to take her up on her offer to start over with their friendship. On the other hand, she could hardly wait to talk with her book club about the great book she’d finished during her hotel stay and to find out from her theater friends how the season was shaping up for the Festival.

  And then the big one: she was almost ecstatic that Jeff might want her back, but horrified at the idea of leaving Trace.

  It was almost dark by the time she got home. She was tired. She was wrung out by the events of the past week. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed. Preferably with Trace, but she didn’t think the option was on the table.

  It wasn’t until she was unlocking her front door that she saw the vase of stargazer lilies sitting in the shadows. She didn’t have to guess who left them—she recognized Trace’s handwriting on the envelope tucked in the greenery around the flowers. The note inside said, Welcome home, beautiful. Hope your trip was everything you wanted it to be. Call me and let me know you got back safely. Love, Trace.

  She didn’t unpack, freshen up, or think twice. She called him.

  “Hi, I’m home. Thank you for the lovely flowers.”

  “You’re welcome. Glad they didn’t get stolen. You have a good trip?”

  “It was great. I loved seeing Portland again. Had a good breakfast meeting with Jeff, then talked to a bunch of people in the office and wound up having coffee with Margo before I came back home.”

  There was another of those pesky silences for a few moments. “So you’ll get the job offer.”

  “Margo thinks I will. But I told both Margo and Jeff I didn’t know if I’d accept the job if it was offered to me.”

  “Still don’t know, huh?”

  “No, haven’t figured it out.” She was reluctant to ask the question that had played around the edges of everything she’d thought about all the way home, not sure she could face one of the alternative answers. But if she didn’t ask, she had no chance of getting the answer she wanted to hear. So she said, “Since I haven’t made up my mind yet, do you still want us to avoid each other?”

  He groaned. “Jesus, Juliet, I don’t know how much longer I can go without seeing you. You have no idea how much I miss you.”

  “I hope it’s as much as I miss you. Please, Trace, can’t we take a break from taking a break? I need to see you. I’ve never begged a man for anything in my life but I’m begging you. Can I see you tonight?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  • • •

  He’d left her favorite flowers so she’d call. And hoped when she did, she’d ask to see him. He knew he’d go if she asked. Now he was halfway to her house wearing only a light jacket over ragged jeans and an old sweatshirt. Eager to see her, he hadn’t taken the time to change into something nicer or find a warmer coat against the cold. Although why he was worried about what he was wearing he couldn’t say. Especially since he hoped to be out of them at the first opportunity. Maybe it was easier worrying about clothes than it was to worry about what she would say when he got there. And whether he’d get that opportunity.

  He’d realized during his self-imposed withdrawal from her that he couldn’t protect himself from being deeply wounded if she accepted the job in Portland, no matter what he did. It was also obvious he couldn’t ask her to pick him over finding her way to whatever resolution she needed about the past.

  The upshot was, he would spend as much time with her as he could, as she’d let him, and hope for the best.

  Her porch light was on and the door slightly ajar. He didn’t bother to knock. She didn’t bother to say hello when he walked in. They collided in the middle of the living room and immediately locked mouths. Teeth bumped, lips devoured, arms tightened, bodies melded. His mouth demanded what she was only too willing to give freely—desire, need, passion.

  “I need you,” he whispered. “God, how I need you. Let’s go upstairs.”

  “No. Too far. I don’t want to wait that long.”

  She pulled him back to the couch, and he slid her skirt up so it was bunched around her waist. He pushed her thong down around her ankles so she could step out of it, and laid her down. Dressed now in a thin camisole and a belt made of her suit skirt, she was on her back on the couch as he unzipped and shed his jeans and boxers, pulled a condom out of his pocket, and knelt between her legs. Saying, “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he ripped open the foil packet and covered himself.

  Then he was over her, pressing his erection against her sex as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth. Couldn’t stop massaging and molding her breasts under the camisole. Couldn’t stop pulling her hips up against him. Finally, couldn’t keep from thrusting into her, where she was wet and ready for him.

  • • •

  It was like she imagined the middle of a tornado was—breathtaking, fast, and exhilarating, potentially dangerous. She’d never had anyone kiss her with so much desire. She’d never felt her body go liquid so quickly. Never wanted anyone inside her so badly. The feelings were overwhelming. Trace was overwhelming. And he was everything she wanted.

  It didn’t take long to get what they both wanted. He collapsed on her, as exhausted from his climax as she was from hers. All she could do was hold him close and wonder how she had ever believed she was alive before she met him.

  He raised his head and touched his sweaty forehead to hers. “Jesus, I don’t know what happened. I’ve never behaved like that before. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He started to roll off the couch, but she wouldn’t let him.

  “Of course not.” She touched a finger to his mouth, then kissed where she had touched. “We seem to do a lot of things neither one of us has done before, don’t we? I can honestly say, for example, I’ve never had sex on this couch before.”

  The smile she got in response was sweet. “Maybe we should work up a list of other pieces of furniture like the couch and, you know, check them off.”

  “Making a list and checking it? I don’t need a list to tell you who’s naughty.”

  She moved under him to get the edge of the couch cushion in a more comfortable place on her back. He reacted by rising onto his forearms. “I’m not quite the size of Santa, but I must be hurting you now. This space is even more cramped than your bed is.” He leveraged himself to his knees, then off the couch, grabbed his jeans, and headed for the downstairs powder room. “Don’t go away; I’ll be right back.”

  By the time he returned, she’d gotten dressed herself, except for her thong, which was AWOL, and had poured two glasses of wine.

  He took the glass she offered him, winked, and said, “I don’t know if this is such a go
od idea. God knows what I’ll do with a little alcohol in me.” But he took a sip anyway.

  Now it was her turn to smile and wink. “I didn’t expect you to agree so easily to seeing me tonight. But maybe I have the answer now. It’s not that I was so persuasive; it’s because you were ready to call off the calling off.”

  He shook his head. “The dumbest thing I’ve ever done was try and stay away from you to insulate myself against missing you if you decide to leave. I was a fool. And I lost almost five days with you because of it.” Putting his arms around her, he concluded with, “Forgive me.”

  “I’ve had a hard time this week not seeing you.”

  “Then let’s make up for it. Let me take you to dinner.”

  “No, dinner here. I don’t want to share you. Let me change, and I’ll make something.”

  He glanced up and down her body. “Be prepared for what you see when you take off your skirt. I made a mess of it. I’ll take it to the dry cleaner.”

  “The hell you will. First time on the couch. First time in this suit—well, part of this suit. I might frame it. This I can frame, the couch I can’t.”

  • • •

  The weekend following her return from Portland made up a bit for what they had missed being apart. At Trace’s insistence, they left Friday after work for the coast. It was another long drive for Julie, but it was worth it when they got there. They walked on the beach and watched the winter storm-tossed waves, explored new restaurants, found a theater playing a movie they hadn’t seen. In short, acted like any other couple on a get-away weekend. Not once did either one say anything about the decision Julie had to make. Although it wasn’t very far from her consciousness all weekend, she managed to keep it from pushing its way into the conversation. She didn’t know how Trace managed to stop thinking about it. Maybe he didn’t. What she did know was he didn’t bring it up.

  The beginning of the workweek came too soon for either of them.

  Wanting to keep the weekend glow going, they snuck in coffee together Monday morning and talked about plans for the coming weekend, as they’d been doing for months.