by Julie Cannon
“Parked in your driveway,” her late-night caller said.
Pushing hair off her face, Lauren swung her legs over the side of her bed and padded across the room to peer out the window. Sure enough, Elliott was standing propped against her car, gazing up at the house. “I see you.”
“I see you too.” Elliott waved.
“What are you doing here? It’s two thirty a.m.”
“Is it okay if I come in out of the cold?” There was a hint of irony in the question.
“Is that a double entendre?” Lauren queried.
“Would you like it to be?” Elliott asked softly.
Lauren’s heart traded its already rapid beating for a more erratic pattern. “I’ll meet you at the door.”
She tossed the phone onto her bed, pulled on a robe, and hurried from her room. Elliott was at her home in the middle of the night and was talking to her as if there was something between them, or perhaps that was simply her wishful thinking. Sometimes Lauren had the impression Elliott flirted with women automatically. Now that she thought about it with some perspective, it almost seemed like a pleasant way to avoiding more meaningful conversation.
As she descended the stairs and approached the front door, she checked that her robe covered her thin silk teddy, then reached for the handle.
“Thank you.”
Elliott looked as untidy as Lauren had ever seen her, in jeans and a crushed shirt, with her hair uncombed. She was still the sexiest woman alive. “Please. Come in.”
“I’m sorry about this,” Elliott said as they walked to the living room. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m listening.” Lauren sat down in an armchair, inviting Elliott to do the same. She didn’t say anything more. If Elliott wanted to talk, she was going to have to carry the conversation.
The silence seemed deafening, and Elliott finally registered that Lauren was waiting for her to state why she was here. She’s not going to make this easy for me. She sat in the corner of the large sofa, the nearest she could get to Lauren. It hadn’t escaped her that Lauren had chosen to sit alone.
“It’s hard to know where to start,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t offer you anything.” Lauren glanced toward the bar. “Would you like a drink…or I can make hot chocolate or coffee.”
“No, but thanks. I don’t want to drag this out.” As soon as she’d spoken, she realized her remark had hurt Lauren. The soft blue eyes looked away and Lauren’s shoulders tightened just enough to disturb the folds of her robe. Elliott could not ignore the outline of her body beneath the heavy satin. She was so beautiful, it was torture not to reach out and touch her. Suddenly desperate not to be misunderstood, she said, “What I mean is, it’s late and I know you should be sleeping. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
“Yes.” Lauren nervously waited to see where Elliott was going with this.
“What happened at the fund-raiser…there’s something I need to explain.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me,” Lauren said.
Until very recently, Elliott would have agreed. She’d just spent the past couple of weeks trying to convince herself that she wasn’t in any way accountable to the woman opposite her. Yet here she was, about to explain herself and ask for understanding.
“The woman who slapped me is Rebecca Alsip. I had a brief affair with her a while ago.” Lauren’s expression did not alter, but Elliott could sense the emotion in her and wondered what it was. Embarrassment? Distaste? Jealousy? I can hope. “For the past couple of months, she’s been trying to extort money from me.”
This time a discernable emotion stirred the smooth perfection of Lauren’s face. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted in shock. “Blackmail?”
“Yes. When I wouldn’t pay, she threatened me with a lawsuit. I can show you the paperwork.” Elliott wasn’t sure why she made that offer. The last thing she wanted was for Lauren to read a list of sordid lies intended to assassinate her character.
“You don’t have to do that,” Lauren said with a perplexed frown, as if there was something strange about the offer. “I believe what you are saying.”
“To cut a long story short, she came to the fund-raiser because she was angry. The FBI had just told her to back off.”
“You called the FBI?” Lauren was relieved. Too often people being blackmailed were afraid to inform the authorities because they were in a vulnerable position. A blackmailer usually had some dirt and counted on their victim’s desire to keep it hidden. If the FBI was involved, that meant the threat would be dealt with, and it certainly explained why Rebecca had been angry enough to create a public spectacle. She’d embarrassed Elliott out of spite.
Elliott was so distracted by the warmth flooding Lauren’s gaze that she forgot to speak for a few seconds. She allowed her eyes to linger on Lauren’s lips, and memory swept order from her mind.
Hoarsely, reluctantly, she said, “No, I didn’t call them, although I probably should have.” She met Lauren’s puzzled stare. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I think I’m being investigated. They told Rebecca that they recorded her blackmail threats. They said it was about national security.”
Lauren could feel the blood leaving her face. What on earth was Elliott involved in that she’d attracted the attention of the feds? “Do you have any idea what this could be about?”
“I promise you, I have absolutely no idea. This came out of the blue. I haven’t done anything wrong. Why would they be investigating me? It doesn’t make any sense. It’s making me crazy.” Elliott grasped Lauren’s hand like a lifeline.
“I don’t know. And it’s really interesting that they risked contacting Rebecca. If she told you, that could ruin their case. Their cover would be blown. She must have been a problem for them, somehow. I’m sure they don’t want media sniffing around you and your company, and she was planning to create publicity if she wasn’t paid off. Perhaps that was the issue for them.”
Elliott was still baffled, but Lauren’s theory made more sense than anything else she’d considered, including the possibility that Senator Jarvis had somehow learned of the situation. Obviously the FBI would not want nosey reporters hanging around. “What am I going to do?”
“Find out anything you can about what they’re doing, and start looking for a problem close to home…people behaving strangely around you, unusual happenings at work…something must have attracted their attention.”
“But they can’t tap my phone without a warrant, can they?” Not that she would know. Wiretapping was not like searching her house.
“Legally, no, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t go on. The FBI has been known to use national security to justify just about everything they do these days.”
“Shit.”
Lauren stared down at the hand holding her own. The contact made her flesh tingle with awareness, reminding her that there was so much more she wanted. She imagined standing up and drawing Elliott with her, leaning into that unforgettable body, letting her robe drop to the floor. Elliott must have mistaken her distraction for expectant silence; she started talking again in a rush.
“I thought about what you said.” Elliott plunged into the other subject crowding her mind. “In your phone message. You made some good points.” It was still difficult for her to admit that to herself, let alone to Lauren.
“Well, I am an attorney, you know.” Lauren’s heart began to beat evenly again.
Elliott laughed, and some of the tension left her body. “Yes, and somehow I don’t think I would have a chance to win an argument with you.”
Warmth spread through Lauren’s limbs as Elliott laughed. She realized just how much she missed it. “Sure you do. I don’t think a woman as successful as you lacks the skill to be persuasive and win an argument or two.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been lucky once or twice.”
“Once or twice? You’re far too modest, Elliott.”
The sound of Lauren speaking her
name sent shivers up and down her spine. I’ve been a fool. With rare impulsiveness, she said, “I’ve missed you.”
“I was here,” Lauren replied, making her point gently but firmly. Elliott could have called her anytime, but had chosen not to.
Her subtle reproof hit home, and Elliott tried to lighten the conversation. “I spent some time in Paris.”
“And I was in Bangalore.”
“Maine?”
“Not Bangor, Bangalore.”
“India? How long were you there?” Elliott cringed at the stupid question but was relieved that they were talking about the mundane for a moment. She needed some time to plan the conversation she knew they had to have.
“Almost two weeks,” Lauren said. “I have a whole new appreciation for our taxis and air-conditioning.” She stifled a yawn.
Not wanting to outstay her welcome, Elliott said, “Look, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to give you a heads-up about the FBI because they probably have you on tape as well. I have to assume my phone is tapped and my house is bugged.”
She didn’t want to release Lauren’s hand but she felt a small tug and relaxed her fingers, surrendering that one tingling point of connection between them.
Lauren was disappointed that the conversation was coming to an end, but she would not do anything to prolong it. If Elliott had anything else to say to her, she knew how to form a sentence. They stared at one another, and Lauren had the distinct impression Elliott was waiting for a signal from her.
Lauren adopted a tone of friendly concern. “Thank you for telling me about this. It was the honorable thing to do.”
“Actually, it was more than that,” Elliott admitted tentatively. “I wanted to see you.”
“All right.” It was difficult for Lauren not to add anything more.
She’s making me go there. Elliott had to admire her companion’s strength of will. She’d laid down her ultimatum and she wasn’t budging. The ball remained in Elliott’s court. Hesitantly, she said, “I’m sorry.”
Lauren studied her intently but said nothing.
“For backing away. I can’t explain exactly why I did, but I’m not enjoying myself one little bit.” Elliott sighed. “Lauren, I have a lot of experience in casual affairs, but I’m a beginner as far as anything else is concerned, which, if you think about it, makes us both inexperienced in our own ways.”
She held her breath and was rewarded with a smile that transformed Lauren’s face from placid distance to something so inviting and real that Elliott could only smile exactly the same way in return.
“I’m glad you said that,” Lauren responded simply.
“So am I.”
“What are we going to do about this investigation?”
“We?”
“You can’t imagine I’ll just stand by and wait for something unfortunate to happen to you,” Lauren said. “Obviously there’s been some kind of mistake, and we need to get to the bottom of it.”
Elliott checked her wristwatch. “Well, I’m meeting with my attorney later this morning.”
“Any objection if I sit in?”
Since when had a woman ever stood by her, other than a family member or Teresa? It was the last thing she’d expected, coming here. “No, none at all.” A foolish smile tugged at Elliott’s lips.
“Good.” Lauren rose to her feet and the front of her robe parted just enough to deliver an image Elliott knew she would not be able to get out of her mind all day. “Where’s the meeting?”
Elliott stood and took a business card from her wallet. Lauren supplied her with a pen from the rolltop desk in one corner of the room, and she jotted down Ryan’s details on the reverse. As they walked to the front door, she said, “I appreciate this, Lauren.”
“I’d do the same for anyone I care about.”
There it was, a clear opening. Elliott sidestepped it, not quite ready to jump in the deep end. “That means a lot,” she said warmly. “Get some sleep.”
“You too.” Lauren made no move to invite the kiss she sensed floating between them. She let Elliott walk away and waited for her to look back.
And Elliott did.
*
The late-morning sun was warm on her face as Lauren sat on her deck enjoying her second cup of coffee while she waited for Elliott to pick her up. She’d been surprised by the invitation to the baseball game that weekend. Elliott had called her after their Monday meeting with Ryan, thanking her again and asking if she wanted to join her. In the days since, Elliott had sent her a fruit basket and phoned her a couple of times to update her on their progress with the cloud hanging over her. So far, they hadn’t found out much, and Ryan was urging Elliott to arrange to speak to a special agent he knew. Elliott had said she would think about it.
Lauren’s eyes were drawn to one of several people jogging along the shoreline. She waved in acknowledgment as a slight woman in an orange running suit passed in front of her. Anne lived next door, and over the past five years they’d become friends. It was clear to Lauren early on that Anne was a lesbian, and occasionally they’d discussed the fact.
Lauren recalled the first party Anne invited her to. She had been slightly nervous as one of the few straight women in a group that was primarily lesbians, but Anne had assured her that she would not be hit on and would probably meet some interesting women. Lauren had enjoyed herself thoroughly, and during the evening she’d been intrigued by the way the guests interacted with each other and with their partners. Several couples were obviously deeply in love, some on the second or third decade of their relationship, and a few women were clearly singles on the make.
What struck her the most was the bond she felt with these women. This connection strengthened as she spent more time with Anne and her friends, and it slowly dawned on her that she was missing a lot in her relationships with men. She had dated throughout college and law school and into her professional years. She had come close to marrying one man in particular but broke off the engagement at the last minute. Somehow, deep inside she knew that she did not want to spend the rest of her life with him.
Over the past few years, she’d talked with Anne about her growing suspicion that she was a lesbian, and Anne had been wonderful in guiding Lauren through her thoughts and feelings without leading her down any specific path. Over pots of coffee, glasses of wine, and miles of walking the California shoreline, Lauren had vocalized and debated with Anne what she was thinking and feeling, and ultimately she came to her own conclusion.
Throughout this process she had dated women sometimes and had come close to sleeping with one of them, but she had not felt comfortable enough to make love with her. She had attributed her hesitation in losing her virginity this time around to her level of maturity, compared to twenty years ago when she was fumbling around with Steve Casper in his backyard. She knew that the first time she made love to a woman would be the defining moment in her life, and she wasn’t going to jump into it without being absolutely sure. Lauren was not naïve enough to believe that she would have to be in love with the woman, but she knew that she would know when it was right.
“Lauren?” Elliott was standing at the corner of the deck, looking at her curiously.
And it is definitely right with you, Elliott Foster. “Hi.”
“I thought you might be out here. I rang the bell several times and you didn’t answer.” Unbeknownst to Lauren, Elliott had taken the opportunity to silently observe her before she announced her arrival. Watching Lauren took her breath away. She was absolutely beautiful sitting relaxed with the ocean breeze ruffling her hair.
Lauren sat up straighter in her chair. “Sorry, you caught me daydreaming.”
“If this were my place, that’s all I’d be able to get done. I can see why you love it out here.”
“I could sit here all day. As a matter of fact, some days I do,” Lauren said with a wistful smile. “But not today. Today I have a baseball game to go to, and I love baseball!”
The afternoon was beautiful, she
thought yet again an hour later when they were finally in the stadium. “These seats are fabulous,” she said, looking at the field. They were on the second level, directly behind home plate.
“Thanks. We get a lot of foul balls, so we need to pay attention to the game.” And you are too cute in that baseball cap and your Ray-Bans.
Elliott had been surprised to learn that Lauren was an avid baseball fan. Elliott enjoyed the experience of going to a game, eating a hot dog and drinking a beer or two as she cheered for her home team, but Lauren kept a running dialogue of the players and their stats throughout. Several times during the game Lauren reached over and touched Elliott’s arm when she couldn’t control her enthusiasm at a particularly exciting play. Each time this happened, Elliott could feel the heat travel from her arm and land in her crotch. Good God, it’s hot today.
It was one of the most enjoyable games Elliott had attended in quite a while, ending on a positive note as the Padres beat the Astros in extra innings. Elliott suggested they have an early dinner at the Dugout, a crowded, noisy bar and grill not far from the stadium, and they rehashed the game over pizza and beer, sticking to their agreement not to talk about work or “the situation,” which was how they referred to Elliott’s FBI dilemma. The sun was just beginning to set by the time they pulled into Lauren’s driveway much later.
“I had a great time, Elliott. Thanks for inviting me.” God, I love saying her name.
“Had I known that you’d be my own personal play-by-play commentator, I’d have invited you earlier in the season,” Elliott teased as she walked Lauren to her door.
Lauren cringed. “Was I too chatty? My friends are always telling me to shut up when we watch a game.” She cast a cautious glance at Elliott and was met with laughing eyes.
“Absolutely not. As a matter of fact, when you went to the restroom the man sitting beside me asked if you were a scout, you know so much about each player.”
“Oh jeez…” Lauren was slightly embarrassed as she opened her front door.
“He even asked me if you were coming to the series next week with the Diamondbacks. I think he really enjoyed you.” As did I.
