Come and Get Me

by Julie Cannon

  “Well, sometimes I kinda get caught up in it all.” Lauren swept away a piece of dirt from her threshold with her foot.

  “Kinda?” Elliott tilted her head mischievously.

  Lauren knew that Elliott was teasing her and she relaxed. She didn’t want the day to end and yearned to invite Elliott in. But when Elliott did not make any move to suggest she would welcome the invitation, Lauren simply said, “Thanks again, Elliott,” and retreated indoors.

  Left standing alone on the porch, Elliott contemplated knocking, but she was strangely reluctant to change the mood of their day together by making it about the night.

  She had just been on a date, she realized, an ordinary date that was not about getting the woman she was with into bed as quickly as possible. Even more astounding was the fact that she had enjoyed it for what it was and she couldn’t wait to be with Lauren again, regardless of the circumstances.

  Chapter Twelve

  A card arrived two days later from the director of the children’s shelter thanking Elliott for tickets to the same game she and Lauren had attended. It was signed, in different levels of penmanship and ink colors, by the twenty kids who had gone to the game. Smiling, Elliott opened the plain wooden box on her desk that was almost overflowing with similar notes. Before she slipped the card inside, she studied one particular signature.

  The print was so small she could hardly make out the name. She knew nothing about handwriting analysis or the children but she had the impression the author was a small, frightened girl. She pictured a blank stare exactly like the one of the little girl who sometimes haunted her dreams.

  Elliott hadn’t dreamed about her regularly in years, but she knew the dream by heart. She was fifteen and was sitting in the backseat of the car assigned to pick her up at the airport for Christmas. She was to meet her father and sister and spend a week skiing in the Rockies, but she knew from previous Christmases that she would most likely be spending the holiday without her father.

  It was bitterly cold outside, but she was more than comfortable in the well-heated limousine. The windows were tinted almost black but provided her a view of the world outside. The scene was one

  she would never forget. The limo had stopped at a red light, and she saw a mother huddled in a doorway with a child in her lap. Both were wrapped in a ragged blanket, trying to keep warm. The little girl was no more than four years old, and she lifted her head and seemed to look directly at Elliott. The haunted look in her eyes

  spoke of despair and hopelessness instead of excitement at the upcoming holiday. The light changed to green then, and the limo pulled away.

  Elliott had never forgotten the look in that little girl’s eyes, and she’d spent most of her break searching for mother and child, wanting nothing more than to put a smile on that little girl’s face. The child had practically nothing, but she had her mother. Elliott, on the other hand, had all the trappings that money could buy but she’d lost her mother long ago, and what she really wanted was her father. She remembered going to a party where the icebreaker was to tell the worst thing you had ever done. She lied. How could she tell a room full of strangers that the worst thing she ever did was let the chauffeur drive away from that little girl and her mother?

  She tried every day to make up for that by giving hundreds of thousands of dollars to help bring a sliver of hope to an unhappy child. A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away, cursing the emotions that were still so close to the surface after all these years. After returning the box to its usual place, she swung her chair around at the sound of her door opening and came face-to-face with the one person she did not want to deal with first thing this week. She wasn’t surprised to see him in her office, however. “Why do I think you’re not here to give me good news?”

  “Elliott…”

  She hated it when Ryan used that tone with her. It made her feel like a petulant child.

  “They want to talk to you.” Ryan didn’t need to say the they was the FBI. He had made some calls and was finally passed on to the special agent in charge. He was given very little information other than they wanted to talk with her.

  The mere thought set her teeth on edge. Why should she, an innocent member of the public, have to account for herself to a federal agency that had completely ignored her right to privacy? They should be in here, explaining themselves to her.

  “You have to take care of this. If you don’t do it your way, it will happen their way, and trust me on this, Elliott, you don’t want that.”

  She slammed her fist on the desk. “You know as well as I do that rich people pay all the time to make this kind of shit go away. Can’t you just file a motion or something? Make them bring charges or get out of my life.”

  His patience was wearing thin. “It’s not that simple. We need to know why they targeted you. If you cooperate now, at least we can see where their questions are going.”

  “It can’t be anything personal.” She lived her life as she wanted to, not the way others expected her to, but she wasn’t doing anything illegal and the longer she was at the helm of Foster McKenzie, the less of a personal life she had anyway. “I know I’m not exactly establishment, but they must have better things to do than hassle me because of…” She trailed off. “We still don’t have a clue what it’s about.”

  “We can’t be certain it’s you they’re investigating,” Ryan reminded her. “It’s just one possibility. Anyway, when was the last time you looked in the mirror? You are establishment, whether you like it or not. You’re just damn lucky you’ve sailed through life the way you have before now.” When she didn’t reply he pulled out all the stops. “I’m surprised, Elliott. It’s not like you to run away from a challenge.”

  He was right. She had never backed down from a fight in her life. She could live with tittering media speculation on the face-slap—her publicist was making sure their spin also made it into print: the wealthy CEO stalked by a gold digger who was making up stories about their association.

  Thankfully a couple of tabloid reporters had done their homework on Rebecca and found she’d once worked as an exotic dancer for six months. This, coupled with a husband thirty years older than her who had announced his plans for divorce, made the newspapers careful. So far it was Elliott’s story they believed. One of them had even run a flattering profile of her as a philanthropist, commenting in the article that she, like many wealthy people, was the target of opportunists. The damage control was working well. What they didn’t need was a headline that read FBI Investigates CEO.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll cooperate.”

  *

  Lauren opened the door to Elliott wearing faded jeans that accentuated her long legs, a blue chambray shirt, and boots. Oh my God, she looks hot. Keep your cool, Lauren.

  “Hi, I’m sorry I didn’t call. Are you up for dinner?” Elliott asked hopefully.

  She’d sat in her car at the end of Lauren’s street for thirty minutes before ringing the bell. She knew she should have called first, but the meeting with the FBI that morning had been unsettling and she had an overwhelming need to see Lauren. She’d answered questions for hours, and at Ryan’s urging took the Fifth Amendment on several. When it was over, she and Ryan had nothing concrete, but the direction of the questioning gave them some clues. The FBI wanted access to all Foster McKenzie’s client information. They refused to single out individual clients or identify any particular industry they wanted to explore. However, among the questions they’d asked, Elliott had detected a slant toward foreign companies. They’d also asked her a lot of questions about her overseas travel, including the predictable ones about contacts in the Middle East.

  Elliott had told them she would think about their request

  for access to confidential files. She needed to buy herself some time to investigate the current client list and any deals on the table.

  “Dinner? I’d love it,” Lauren said. Work had been so busy over the last few days that she had been skipping meals. S
he now felt deprived; Elliott’s surprise invitation couldn’t have happened at a better time. “Come in.” She opened the door wide and glanced at the clock. She needed to check in with her office before she went out for the evening. “Want to pour yourself a drink while I get changed?”

  “Thanks, I will.”

  Elliott stepped into the foyer and Lauren had a brief, unsettling flash of the intense kiss they had shared right here just weeks ago. Her knees began to shake and her eyes were drawn to the lips that had burned her skin with such passion. Somehow she managed to close the front door.

  “There’s beer in the refrigerator. Why don’t you go out onto the deck?”

  As she moved toward the stairs, Elliott said, “Dress casual.”

  “Even better.” Elliott heard the delight in Lauren’s voice, and her blood beat a little faster.

  After the initial thrill of seeing Elliott again, Lauren had calmed down but her pulse still raced. She wasn’t sure what this evening was all about but was anxious to find out.

  Elliott watched color stain Lauren’s cheeks. She could almost taste her skin and hear her low moans of excitement. Her fingers ached to touch the soft skin, but she didn’t give in to the desire. “Would you like me to fix you something as well?”

  “Sure. A beer sounds good. I’ll see you out there.”

  Elliott found the kitchen and poured their drinks, enjoying the contented, domestic feel of sharing this simple after-work ritual with another person. Lauren’s deck faced the ocean, and Elliott was immediately hit with a cool salty breeze when she carried their glasses outdoors. She could just barely see the waves cresting on the shore in the dying sunlight. Inhaling the clean air, she started to relax. She still wasn’t sure why she was here, but she was glad Lauren had accepted her invitation. She leaned against the deck railing and got lost in the quiet sounds of the ocean.

  At some point she sensed she was being watched, but she didn’t hear Lauren come outside until she was standing beside her, dressed casually in comfortable khakis and a blue short-sleeve shirt that brought out the flecks in her eyes. Oh, shit. I need to be careful here.

  “This is my hideaway from the world.” Lauren gazed toward the horizon. “I step out here and immediately start to decompress. When I think I’m getting too big for my britches I look at the water and it brings everything back into focus. It makes me realize I’m just a puny little speck in the overall scheme of things.” When Elliott chuckled, she inquired, “What?”

  “Your comment just surprised me.”

  “Why?”

  “Well…” Elliott hustled to find the right words. “It’s probably stereotypical and I apologize up front if you’re offended, but most attorneys I know are pretty arrogant and would never consider themselves just a puny little speck in the overall scheme of things.”

  Lauren sipped her beer as she contemplated Elliott’s observation. “You’re right, that is a stereotype that unfortunately is more true than not. But I don’t define myself as an attorney.” Lauren hoped she didn’t sound as defensive as she felt. She knew that the seedier side of her profession created the lawyer jokes but she was not one of them and would never become one.

  “How do you define yourself?” Elliott was fascinated by what her answer would be.

  Lauren thought for a moment. “Well, I’d say that I’m a woman first.” She was proud that she was a woman and had always strived to be poised and articulate.

  Yes, you are definitely a woman. “What comes second?”

  “I’m a daughter and then a friend.”

  “And where would you place being an attorney?” Elliott thought that this conversation was an interesting way to learn more about the chic woman standing so casually beside her.

  “Being an attorney is somewhere further down the list. It’s a job, it’s what I do, not who I am.” Lauren had never really verbalized this but suddenly it was very clear. “And what about Elliott Foster? How do you define who you are?”

  Elliott immediately became uncomfortable when the questioning turned her way. Actually, she didn’t really know how to answer it anymore. “Best definition right now? I’m starving. Shall we go?”

  Lauren didn’t miss the not-so-subtle way that Elliott deflected the question. “I’m ready.”

  *

  “Would you like to take a stroll along the water?” Elliott asked as they pulled into Lauren’s drive several hours later. She’d had an enjoyable evening and was not ready for it to end.

  “I’d love it. I need to walk off this dinner.”

  She had eaten way too much, including a decadent piece of cheesecake, and she was feeling more than a little stuffed. A little exercise was just what she needed, and she loved the peacefulness of the shoreline. She walked silently beside Elliott, remembering a similar walk they’d shared the night of the ballet. The stillness of the night was broken only by the waves softly rolling onto the sand at high tide.

  Breaking the silence, Lauren commented softly, “After spending two weeks with the 6.2 billion people in India, I think I appreciate this place even more. And thank you. This evening was wonderful.” What she really wanted to say was that it was wonderful to spend the evening with Elliott and it wouldn’t have mattered what they had done.

  “I’m glad you had a good time. I did too.” Elliott had thought several times just how enjoyable the evening was. She found Lauren to be charming, witty, and very well versed in politics, social events, and the arts. As the lights of Lauren’s patio came into view, she realized that outside of a bedroom, she had never been in the presence of a beautiful woman for so long without feeling like she had to exchange a single word.

  The experience was new for her and slightly uncomfortable, but before she could dwell on it, Lauren angled her head and asked, “How did your interview go?”

  “I wish I could say enlightening, but I can’t.”

  Lauren wanted to ask more questions; she’d known about the meeting with the FBI. But Elliott was clearly unsettled, so she changed the subject. “Elliott, I’d like to ask you a favor,

  but I don’t want you to feel obligated.” That was an ominous

  way to begin a conversation, but she wanted to say it right up front.

  The slight brooding in Elliott’s expression lifted, as if she were relieved to focus on something else. “Okay, no obligation felt. What is it?”

  “I’m a mentor to a teenage girl, and one of the things I’m doing is exposing her to successful women to give her an idea of what she can accomplish in life if she stays in school and keeps out of trouble.”

  “Really?” Will this woman always surprise me? “How long have you been doing this?”

  “About three years now. Tonya is one of eight children and lives in the public housing on Third and Lancaster.”

  Elliott knew the location. The children in that school district often were the recipients of her anonymous donations.

  “She has a lot of potential, and in the last six months or so she’s finally started to realize it.” Lauren smiled, remembering the first time Tonya began to see this in herself.

  “How old is she?” Elliott took note of the way Lauren’s eyes lit up as she talked about the girl.

  “Fifteen, going on thirty-three.” Lauren joined Elliott’s laughing.

  “How can I help?”

  Lauren took a deep breath. Despite what was going on between them, or not going on, Elliott would be an excellent role model for Tonya. “I’d like for her to meet you. You don’t have to prepare anything.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Elliott said without hesitation.

  “If you could spare an hour to talk to her, answer her questions.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Elliott’s response seemed to fall on deaf ears; Lauren kept her sales pitch going. “Just talk to her about the challenges you face as a woman who owns a business and how important it is to stay focused on your goals. You know, that sort of thing.” Lauren had barely taken a breath.

 
Calmly, Elliott said, “Lauren, I said I’d be happy to.”

  “You would?” Lauren had not expected her to agree, yet at the same time she was not really surprised at all.

  “Of course. I love kids and I’d be more than willing to help someone not make the same mistakes I did.” Elliott looked at her calendar. “When?”

  “Is Saturday too soon?” Lauren hoped Elliott was free that day. She met with Tonya every two weeks, and Tonya needed support and encouragement quickly now that she was on the right track.

  “No, Saturday is fine.”

  They agreed on ten thirty and Lauren said, “That’s perfect. Would it be too much of an imposition if we came to your office?” She was sure it would impress Tonya, and she was not above using everything at her disposal to help her, including the trappings of a fine office.

  “No problem. It’s after hours, so no one will be around. Do I need to do anything special?”

  “No. Just be yourself. I think Tonya will be suitably impressed.” As am I.

  “I think I can do that. I’ll try not to be too flamboyant and outrageous.” Elliott breathed a sigh of relief when Lauren laughed.

  “Thanks, Elliott, I appreciate it.”

  “My pleasure.” Elliott’s voice was soft and husky.

  Lauren liked the sound of that and the sound of Elliott’s voice saying it. She wanted to get lost in the feeling that voice sent cascading through her.

  Elliott wondered how much it had cost her to ask for this favor. She was intrigued by the character that emerged the more she got to know Lauren. She had to admit that the opportunity to see her again was definitely pleasing. After spending time with Lauren, she had come to realize that she was missing companionship. Pure and simple companionship, without the pressure of business or sex, and with no intent other than spending time with someone special.

  As they neared Lauren’s house she said, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”