Come and Get Me

by Julie Cannon

  *

  The next day Lauren picked up her phone when it rang after lunch. “Lauren Collier.”

  “Hi, it’s Elliott.”

  Lauren’s heart jumped at the voice on the other end of the line. “Hi yourself.” Can’t I think of something better to say?

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  After declining the invitation to spend Saturday night with Elliott, Lauren had doubted that she would hear from her

  again. She was flabbergasted when the bouquet of flowers arrived a few hours earlier. She immediately suspected they were from Elliott, and the umbrella clinched it even before she read the card.

  “Yes, you are interrupting, and thank God!” She took off her reading glasses and pushed her chair away from the desk.

  “I take it that’s a good thing?” Elliott was not sure she had heard correctly.

  “That’s a very good thing.” Lauren turned her chair to face the window. “I’m reviewing a deposition, and it is the driest questioning I have ever read. I must have read the same page three times and I still don’t know what the plaintiff’s answer is. So, yes, your calling is a good thing.” That and the fact that I was hoping I’d hear from you again.

  Elliott could detect the pleasure in Lauren’s voice. “I’m glad I could be of service, Counselor.”

  “Thank you for the beautiful flowers. Very imaginative.” Lauren could still feel butterflies fluttering around in her stomach; they had arrived with the flowers.

  “You’re very welcome. I try not to be too predictable.” Elliott was cautious when she sent flowers to a woman. She was afraid they would contradict her message of no strings. However, this time she was looking for a thread. “I hope it wasn’t uncomfortable for you to get them at the office.”

  “No, not at all. It was a wonderful surprise.” The delivery had caused quite a stir. Lauren had never received flowers at work, and the excitement far outweighed the inevitable speculation. Michelle knew better than to open the card, and Lauren knew her young assistant must be dying of curiosity.

  “Are you free Saturday evening?” Elliott asked.

  “Saturday?” Lauren quickly turned and scanned her calendar. “Yes, I am, after six.” She hesitated in anticipation. Elliott was going to invite her on another date. She felt like giggling.

  “I have tickets to the ballet and I was wondering if you’d like to go.” I sound like a teenager asking for a date. Elliott stretched her legs out on the teak coffee table in front of her and tried to relax back into the Italian leather sofa in her office. Next to being in bed, preferably with someone, the couch was her favorite piece of furniture.

  “I love the ballet,” Lauren exclaimed. Swan Lake was scheduled to be performed by the nationally acclaimed San Diego Ballet, and she had been meaning to get tickets. She was an admirer of the arts, but her schedule kept her from attending as many performances as she would have liked. The fact that Elliott would attend the ballet was another nugget of information about her that Lauren found fascinating. She intended to uncover more.

  “I know it’s short notice, but my schedule just freed up and I thought of you.” Elliott knew she was rambling, which was unlike her. “We could have dinner downtown before the curtain rises if you’d like.”

  Lauren hesitated. “Can we have dinner afterward? I have something that I can’t get out of in time for dinner before the show.”

  She glanced at the photo of a teenage girl on her desk. She was in her third year as a mentor to Tonya Quinn, a teen identified by her school counselor as at risk. They had a commitment to spend the day together the second Saturday of every month. The relationship was important to Lauren, and she would never consider canceling unless it was an extreme situation. As much as she wanted to see Elliott again, social outings with sexy women did not count as “extreme.”

  “If Saturday is not good for you we can make it another time.”

  “No!” Lauren said more forcefully than she meant to. “No, really. Saturday is fine, except for the early dinner.” Am I sounding desperate?

  Elliott hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath. “Great. How about if I pick you up at seven?”

  “Actually, can I meet you there instead?” Lauren knew she wouldn’t be able to get home from the aquarium and be ready in time for Elliott to pick her up. She could take fresh clothes with her in the car and change at Tonya’s.

  Elliott sensed the hesitation in Lauren’s last comment. “Sure, no problem. I’ll leave your ticket at Will Call and we can meet inside.”

  “Why don’t we meet at the eagle statue about seven fifteen?”

  Elliott knew the bronze landmark east of the entrance hall. “I’ll be there.” She didn’t want to end their conversation and frowned when she glanced up and saw Teresa hovering in her doorway pointing to her watch. “I’m sorry, Lauren, I’ve got to run. Teresa’s standing in my doorway, looking frantic. I’ll see you on Saturday?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Lauren hung up and recalled the arguments she’d had with herself nonstop over the past few days. Eventually she had concluded that she didn’t want Elliott to think she was going to be another in a long line of women in her life. Lauren was not interested in her money, her fame, or her power. She did admit that at first she was in pursuit of Elliott sexually, but after their conversation over dinner she was equally interested in her as a person. To throw sex into the mix would definitely muddy the waters. But I do love to play in the mud.

  Chapter Six

  “The only good thing about these events is all the skin that you get to see.”

  Elliott shot a scathing look at the man standing next to her. How her sister could marry slime like Mark Nelson was a question that probably would never be answered, and why she stayed married to him was an even bigger mystery.

  “Ah, come on, El,” Mark whined, taking a swig of beer. His eyes continued to scan the crowd of ballet patrons. “You know you like to look as much as I do.”

  Elliott would not describe Mark’s actions as look, by any definition. Leer was a better verb. “Mark, you’re a pig,” she said, making no attempt to hide her disgust. “I’ve met your mother and I know she raised you with better manners.” Mark’s father had passed away several years after he and Stephanie married, and MaryLou Nelson often joined the Fosters for family gatherings.

  “Yeah, she did. But she also said I was a chip off the old block too.” Mark winked at her.

  From all accounts, his father had been a womanizer, and Mark actually seemed to take pride in this heritage. Elliott always felt like she needed a shower after spending any time with him. He could very easily ruin her evening with his crass behavior. God, where is Stephanie? She searched the crowd for her sister. She started to walk away but Mark grabbed her arm.

  “Oh my, look what just walked in the door.”

  Elliott could not help but look, and her heart stopped.

  “I gotta get me some of that.” Mark was almost panting.

  For once Elliott agreed with her brother-in-law, but she certainly didn’t say so. Her sister’s husband despised her and would use anything to gain the upper hand. Mark was pissed that he had been passed over for the head of Foster McKenzie twice and had not so subtly made it clear that he didn’t think she was up to the job. Lately Elliott had begun to suspect that he was up to something but she wasn’t sure what, and right now she had better things to dwell on.

  Lauren hadn’t seen her yet, which gave Elliott the opportunity to covertly admire her. She wore a black dress held up by spaghetti straps that exposed her smooth shoulders. The bodice was held snug by pearl buttons and as she walked, the soft folds of the dress moved with her, falling to just below her knees. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back off her face and secured at the base of her neck, and her ears sparkled with diamonds that matched the jewels around her neck. A gold watch on her left wrist completed her accessories. I had no idea an attorney could be so beautiful.

  Elliott was rudely torn from
her appreciation by an elbow in her side courtesy of Mark. “She looks good enough to eat.” He licked his lips for emphasis. “What I wouldn’t give to be the guy she’s looking for.”

  The instant he finished his comment, Lauren’s eyes met hers and Elliott’s heart beat faster at the smile of recognition that lit her face. She could not resist saying to Mark, “What makes you think she’s looking for a man?”

  Mark tore his eyes from the woman walking toward them and stared at Elliott. After a moment he came to the correct conclusion and his expression changed from confusion to shock. “You’re her date?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. You said it yourself. I like to look as much as you. Only in this case, I get to touch too.” With a ridiculous sense of beating Mark at his own game, she walked away.

  When she stopped in front of Lauren, she allowed her eyes to travel the length of her once again. The fine details she had missed from her vantage point across the room were now clearly visible. Lauren’s hair shone and smelled slightly of jasmine. Her eyes were crystal clear and crinkled at the edges when she smiled. Her black dress molded to her body like a glove, with just a hint of cleavage exposed.

  “You are beautiful.” To Elliott’s ears, the simple compliment did not adequately convey her response. But it was sincere, and she found herself marveling at the difference between her feelings now and her usual automatic flattery of dates.

  Lauren had never felt as beautiful as she did the moment Elliott saw her. The expression on Elliott’s face made her stomach churn and her heart must have fallen between her legs, because the throbbing there was almost unbearable. Matching her date’s intense scrutiny, she let her eyes roam from the impeccably shined shoes to the razor-sharp crease in the shimmering black trousers and the dark green bow tie complementing the starched cream-colored shirt. The tanned neck beneath was suddenly asking to be kissed. Shaken, she lost all thought when her eyes traveled the remaining distance and met Elliott’s.

  “Thank you. You look quite smashing yourself,” she replied through the lump in her throat.

  The smoldering look in Elliott’s eyes was almost more than Lauren could stand. As much as she wanted this woman, she had to stop this right now or risk embarrassing herself in front of all of these people. She leaned in and said softly, “You have to stop looking at me like that, Elliott.”

  The already dangerous look in her eyes darkened. “How am I looking at you?”

  “Like you can’t wait to put your hands on me.” Which was exactly what Lauren wanted as well. She held her breath, waiting for the reply.

  Elliott stepped closer and leaned in until her lips were a hairsbreadth away from Lauren’s ear. “You’re wrong, Counselor.” She waited until she had Lauren’s full attention. “I want to put more than just my hands on you.”

  Lauren shivered, not sure if it was due to Elliott’s warm breath in her ear or the vision that exploded in her mind. Either way it didn’t matter. She was so aroused that she was afraid she would explode at any moment. She smiled and put her hand on the center of Elliott’s chest, looking into desire-filled eyes. Sliding the palm of her hand slowly down Elliott’s chest, she said, “I look forward to it,” then withdrew her hand and stepped back from the source of the fire.

  Shock waves coursed through Elliott’s body from the touch of Lauren’s hand. She drew a shaky breath. “I think we should find our seats.”

  Lauren put on the calmest expression she could muster. “Yes, I certainly need to sit down, don’t you?”

  Elliott had no idea how she made it into the theater without grabbing Lauren, and once the performance began she had a difficult time trying to focus on the melodious sounds coming from the orchestra one hundred feet in front of her. Her eyes kept drifting to the tanned skin exposed when Lauren crossed her legs. After a while, she gave up trying to concentrate on the ballet and chose instead to simply enjoy the view beside her. Lauren was on her right, a long expanse of smooth thigh inches from her fingers, as if daring her to touch. Even in the subdued lighting she detected well-defined muscles that she didn’t expect. Nothing about this woman is what I expected. She grinned and raised her eyebrows, imagining the rest of Lauren’s thigh hidden by the smooth fabric. Deciding it was safer to look down Lauren’s leg rather than up, she followed the trail of muscle over a knee toward a shin that disappeared out of sight.

  Twenty minutes into the performance Lauren shifted positions. The angle provided Elliott with a full view of Lauren’s right leg, which was equally alluring. She lavished her attention on the perfectly shaped limb, all but ignoring the crowd around her. She suspected she was blatantly staring but didn’t care. The crashing of the cymbals drew her attention back to the stage. She had just about determined where in the ballet they were when she felt pressure on the outside of her right calf. Thinking it was an inadvertent bump from Lauren, she shifted her leg slightly to allow more room between them. Her heart skipped a beat when the touch followed.

  Instantly tuned into the action below her knees, she kept her eyes forward and didn’t move a muscle. Lauren’s stocking-clad toes caressed her ankle and snaked under the leg of her pants. Her breathing quickened as Lauren’s foot ran sensuously up and down her calf.

  Elliott risked a glance at the limb tormenting her, and her stomach jumped at the image of Lauren’s foot disappearing and reappearing from under her trousers. Her mind took an erotic turn and she imagined other parts of Lauren’s body in her pants but at the opposite end. Watching the swaying of Lauren’s leg was making her far too aroused and she couldn’t stop herself from slowly caressing the long legs with her eyes once more. The tempo of the music kept pace as she blazed a trail up Lauren’s

  shin, over her knee, and along her thigh until the orchestra reached a crescendo when her gaze settled on Lauren’s hands folded

  neatly in her lap. The program in Lauren’s hand was shaking, alerting Elliott that she was not the only one affected by the encounter.

  She didn’t know whether she felt relieved or disappointed when sudden applause and the brightening of the house lights signaled the intermission. Her legs wobbled as she stood and followed Lauren down the aisle.

  As they approached the lobby, she touched Lauren’s elbow. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Lauren could feel Elliott behind her even without the touch. As they moved toward the bar, she continued, “Since we’re all dressed up I suppose I should order something ladylike and suitable for the occasion, but what I’d really like is a Scotch on the rocks.”

  Elliott couldn’t help herself; she broke into a deep laugh, aware of a few patrons turning and looking around at the sound. “If I recall correctly, you were drinking pretty freely the last time you were dressed this beautifully.”

  God, she is smooth. She can turn anything into a compliment. “Elliott, you make me sound like a lush!” Lauren feigned outrage. “I was in no way drinking too much.”

  Elliott smiled at the quick retort. “I was referring to your choice of alcohol, not the quantity.” She gave the bartender their order as they stepped to the front of the line. Leaning on the bar, she asked, “Are you enjoying the performance?”

  Elliott’s pose reminded Lauren of Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. “Definitely. Swan Lake is one of my favorite ballets.” When she accepted her drink, she intentionally let her fingers graze Elliott’s and watched her eyes darken immediately. Not even attempting to hide her pleasure over the telltale reaction, she asked, “And are you enjoying yourself?”

  Elliott grinned, knowing she had been caught looking at Lauren’s legs. She offered her arm to Lauren and led them away from the crowd. When they reached a secluded corner of the lobby, she quickly maneuvered Lauren so her back was against the wall. “You know I am,” she replied, glancing pointedly down at the legs that had enticed her throughout the first act. They were covered with the fine silky cloth of Lauren’s dress now, and Elliott revealed her disappointment with a small sigh.

&nbs
p; Feeling adventurous and emboldened, Lauren teased, “You really should pay attention to the performance as well, Elliott. It is beautiful.” She had no intention of admitting that her attention had wandered constantly too.

  Elliott stepped closer and her eyes grew dangerous. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Lauren, and I am definitely paying attention to something that is magnificent.”

  Lauren laughed. “You are such a charmer. You’ve had way too much practice charming women out of their pants.” She was curious to hear how Elliott would respond to her statement. It wasn’t meant to be judgmental at all.

  “Just the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.” Elliott crossed her heart but was unsuccessful in keeping the smile off her face. “And you’re not wearing pants,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Lauren chuckled and touched Elliott’s arm. “Very observant. Now if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I have to go to the ladies’ room.” Over her shoulder, she added, “Don’t let anyone steal you away. I’ll be right back.”

  Elliott sipped her drink and watched her exciting companion walk away. She was amazed at how much she was enjoying every minute she spent with Lauren, even aside from their flirtatious exchanges. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d simply taken pleasure in the company of an intelligent woman. Foster McKenzie had season tickets to the ballet and Elliott typically allowed her employees to have the seats, but she’d had a hunch that Lauren would enjoy this production. Once more, she let herself imagine what the body that was hidden under the little black dress looked like.

  “What a waste.”

  Elliott was startled by the familiar voice behind her but kept her composure. “That’s twice tonight you’ve been right, Mark. Don’t waste your time.”

  Her brother-in-law snorted. “It should be against the law for the hot ones to be queer.”

  Elliott’s stomach clenched. She was having a wonderful evening and was in no mood for Mark’s obnoxious comments. “Mark”—she looked him directly in the eye—“go fuck yourself.”