by JM Dragon
Jess grinned. “Then let me tell you about the regulars around here. I’ll get to me eventually.”
Kris laughed. “Works for me, but remember I only have an hour.”
“Oh, it could take me a decade.”
They both laughed, and the customers around them smiled approvingly.
Chapter Ten
“I’m going to meet Jess Smith at Mimi’s in a couple of days. She’s so nice, Mrs. Rank. Do you know her or her family?”
Shirley placed a packet of flour on the shelf and turned to the woman who was just like her, or at least would have been back in the day. The social lines were less defined these days. “You know she’s blind?”
“Yes, she told me it happened in the Iraq War. Does that matter to a friendship?”
Shirley shrugged. “Perhaps not. What about Ms. Claire?”
“Claire? How will this affect her?” Kris frowned. “I won’t shirk the work I’ve been hired to do, if that’s what you are thinking?”
“Not that, my dear. Never mind.”
“Mrs. Rank, if you think I need to stay away from town and just keep focused on the work at hand, I will. But surely making a friend here couldn’t do any harm?” Kris murmured.
“None, my dear, none. Jess Smith is very fortunate that you enjoy her company. Now I need to think about dinner and you need to get about your business. Dinner will be at seven prompt. Although according to Ms. Claire, drinks are at six.”
Kris nodded and left the room.
Shirley watched her leave and placed her hands over her lower face. She sighed heavily before looking upward and shaking her head.
“Is love ever simple?”
†
Kris rested back on her haunches and surveyed the small area of enamel that now began to show its true color—bright blue. She gazed at the monster oven and grinned as she wiped a hand across her face before rocking forward and beginning another patch. Time consuming but worth it in the end. She’d bought special cleaning materials just for the job when she went to town. The other items on the list she and Claire had made would be delivered the next day by lunchtime. Not wanting to waste any precious time, she’d taken the provisions to begin this job. Besides, what else did she have to do, other than take walks on the beach? Not that the thought wasn’t deliciously decadent, but Melissa had trusted her with this renovation, and she was going to do her very best to make it happen.
With a satisfied sigh, she got back to her task in earnest. It was only two thirty, and if she continued at the speed she was going, at least a quarter of the oven would be done before she had to leave and clean up for dinner.
†
Claire made her way down the staircase slowly, glancing through the picture windows showcasing the view outside. A memory flashed forward, and she grasped the rail at its power. She gazed unseeingly out of the final window detailing the approach to the house.
Gravel crunched and dust exploded in a mist as the Trans AM convertible skidded to a stop. Long legs and a thin, almost emaciated body stepped out.
Claire watched in fascination from her vantage point on the staircase. As always the woman outside looked marvelous in full flow, and Claire felt moisture building between her legs in anticipation. Then she schooled her features as the doorbell rang. She quickly ran down the few steps and opened the door.
“Hmm, I didn’t expect you, my love. No Reedy to do the honors?”
A tickle of laughter followed the comment.
“Everyone is out, including Mrs. Rank. I wasn’t expecting you,” Claire said with a frown.
A slender finger trailed down her left cheek and sent electric pulses through Claire’s body. Now she was on fire. “Oh, but you want me here now, don’t you?” A hand snaked over Claire’s T-shirt and pulled at her right nipple.
“I…I sure….” Claire groaned, her body definitely not in tune with her brain. “What if my parents come home early?”
The door closed behind them, and before she had time to think, her body was pushed gently against the wooden door. Kisses trailed down her face, down her neck to the hollow between her breasts, and then she was gone.
Claire’s hands grabbed at her lover, tugged at the flimsy dress she wore and pulled it fluidly over her head. Her breath caught at the sight in front of her.
“Wow, no underwear.”
“Only for you. I wanted to be ready.”
Claire’s hand was placed on her lover’s mound, and immediately Claire found her clit and began massaging it until a howl of excitement erupted. She used her other hand to plunge inside and moved in rhythm with the body she lusted after.
Her world spun as hands snaked inside her shorts and she was experiencing the same sexual pleasure.
“Claire, is anything wrong?”
Claire dragged herself out of her daydreaming and stared at the interloper to her thoughts.
“No, of course not. I was just thinking.”
“I’m sorry.”
Claire frowned and walked the few steps to the ground floor. “It isn’t a problem, Shirley. So you’re back from your shopping expedition, and might I say your hair looks lovely.”
Before Claire’s eyes, Shirley came alive and preened like a peacock at the compliment. Then her cheeks turned a rosy shade as she smiled.
“Thank you. I like having my hair done once a month, even though no one but me generally sees it. A habit, I guess.” Shirley tentatively touched a curl that rested against her forehead.
“We should all do something for ourselves once in a while. Besides, it makes us feel better, doesn’t it?” Claire nodded her approval and looked beyond the housekeeper. “Is Kris back?”
“We arrived an hour ago. She went to the cottage, I believe.”
“Without me? Oh.” Deflated, Claire furrowed her brow. Why didn’t she ask me to go with her? Yeah right, because you would be so much help. She dropped her gaze to her right arm and scowled.
“She said she will be back in time for dinner and drinks at six as you suggested. Can I get you some coffee?”
Claire shook her head. Then made a decision.
“I’ll drop by and see what she’s doing. Grams wanted me to be productive while I’m here, and checking out emails in my room isn’t what she would call that. I’ll see you in the dining room at six, unless you want—?”
“No, bless me, no. I have everything in the kitchen under control.”
Claire shrugged and opened the front door, her eyes uncontrollably going to a mark on the doorjamb. It was faint, but nonetheless if you knew it was there, you could see it—scratch marks.
“See you later, Shirley.” Claire shut the door behind her, thinking, Now just who was that woman?
†
Traversing the undergrowth, she had encountered earlier that day, Claire cursed at the nettle scratching her ankle. She bent to investigate the area and saw the small pink blob inflamed. Where was the famed dock-leaf antidote when you needed it? Although she knew if she closely surveyed the area, she would find one. But it was only a minor irritant, so she pushed on.
A few minutes later the roof of the cottage appeared, and as she closed in on the building, she could hear singing. It was indistinct, and somewhat off key, but joyful. The melody was happy, and she smiled. How could hard labor be a happy chore? Guess I’m going to find out.
Moments later, she stepped on the deck, and the groan was audible but not as intense as the first time. “Guess you’re getting used to us, hey?” Claire grinned and opened the creaking door.
Normally she would have expected any occupant to look up and see who was entering the building, but that wasn’t the case with Kris. She was so engrossed in her undertaking and singing that she obviously failed to hear her. Claire simply watched this unusual woman at her task.
After a couple of minutes, Claire felt she was being rude and cleared her throat loudly. Still no response. Maybe she’s listening to an iPod. Searching Kris’s ears, Claire couldn’t see any evidence of those pesky
earbuds that always seemed to fall out. Walking closer, she tried again.
Kris spun around and gasped. “Oh.”
Claire pursed her lips to avoid laughing at the comical expression on Kris’s face. “Hey, I see you’re ahead of me.” She pointed to the cleaning materials.
Kris stumbled to stand and screwed up her face as she did. “Damn, I’m getting old. My knees are creaking.”
Claire smiled. I like this woman. She’s so refreshingly honest. “You and me both. These days I refrain from kneeling for any length of time. Why didn’t you find me? I would have helped.”
Kris’s cheeks flamed. “I’m sorry, Claire. I thought you might be busy with your emails and stuff. I know how popular you are. Besides, the vast majority of the materials we need won’t arrive until sometime in the morning.”
Claire cocked her head to one side. “That’s the second time you’ve said you know something about me. For the record my popularity is exaggerated, especially these days.”
“I’m sorry.” Kris averted her profile.
“Just where exactly did you glean your information about me? I’m not being critical, merely interested.” Claire waited for the reply and saw several nervous twitches on Kris’s face.
“The Lesbian NY Underground monthly newssheet. I subscribed to it when I came to New York. Silly I guess,” Kris quietly replied.
That gossip rag. Crap, I’m going to have my work cut out convincing Kris I’m not everything they made up about me, even if most of it is probably true. Jude never did like me. “I know the editor, Jude Kingston. She set it up in the nineties and it has its moments,” Claire said. “What did they say about me that you remember?” She leaned against a cloth-covered object that felt like a chair.
“Oh, I can’t really remember. Just stuff.” Kris looked Claire in the eye and raised her eyebrows. “Well, you were engaged to another socialite, Racheal Nevin. She’s very beautiful,” She gushed.
Yep, Racheal was very beautiful; is. “And?”
“After your accident they said it’s over, but no one is prepared to officially confirm that.”
Claire drew in a ragged breath. “Anything else?”
Kris frowned and bit her lower lip.
“I can take it, Kris. Besides, it is better out in the open.” Claire’s hand gripped the chair.
“Well, they implied you were a womanizer even when you were engaged. You’ve been photographed with lots of women since I’ve been receiving the subscription. You love nightclubs and fast cars, and I heard a quote that you loved fast women,” Kris reluctantly replied.
“I guess that makes me some kind of rake in your eyes. Not exactly someone you’d want to be around.” Claire caught Kris’s gaze and refused to let it go until she had an answer. She thought she could already guess the response, except Kris’s green eyes never wavered.
“Truthfully, I prefer to make my own opinion of a person. If that’s all right with you?”
The innocent confidence in those words made Claire’s heart swell, and she nodded. “I’d prefer that too.”
They stood there for a few moments in silence.
“So, what have you been doing?” Claire asked.
Kris grinned. “Did you know this oven is blue?”
Claire chuckled and placed a hand to her forehead. “Why bless my soul, no. What significance does that have?”
Kris grinned and began to relate her theory.
Chapter Eleven
A week passed and the cottage was taking shape. The buildup of dust and grime was scrubbed away, leaving the outside of the cottage looking if not respectable, then at least giving an idea of what needed to be done to make it so. Kris’s assessment that the shutters needed repair was accurate. Several hung precariously from one hinge, making them squeak like frightened mice when a breeze blew. The decking was sound but needed a good covering of oil to bring it back to its original glory. The windows themselves now gleamed, to allow vision inside the building.
I did that. Claire smiled in satisfaction at the knowledge she was actually making a difference.
The interior was a little trickier, but at least they had swept the floor and cleaned the kitchen table. The sandwiches Shirley would bring over at twelve thirty sharp meant they didn’t share their meal with spiders and sticky cobwebs. The stainless-steel sink that at some stage needed replacing was clean and served its purpose.
“Penny for them,” Kris said.
Claire stopped her surveying of the building and smiled.
“Free of charge to you. I was just thinking you were right about the condition of the cottage. My parents should employ you to look over properties before they take them on. They have purchased some stinkers in the past.” Claire wiped her hands on the torn jeans she wore for working on the cottage.
“Really? I thought they were real estate agents, not owners. At least that’s what I’ve read about them.” Kris turned a bright pink.
Claire mused over that comment. “A bit of both, or at least they did in the past. Things changed about ten years ago, and now they are mostly agents.”
“In that case, they haven’t got an opening for me, have they?”
Kris smiled as Claire walked over.
“With you on the team, they could start their portfolio again. Changing the subject, what do you think?” Claire pointed to the windows at ground level.
“Great job, Claire. They are gleaming inside and out. Told you they would.” Kris placed a hand on Claire’s shoulder.
Her touch sent a shiver down Claire’s spine. An unexpected reaction, and she frowned. “Hmm, so what have you planned for me next?”
“Well it’s almost—” Kris nervously glanced at her watch “—twelve thirty. Shirley will be here in a minute. Do you think we should ask her to join us one lunchtime? It must be lonely always being on your own.”
Claire shrugged, annoyed at her initial response to Kris’s touch. Maybe having Shirley and her predictable conversation would be a good thing.
“No.” The explosive negative reaction surprised Claire. It was the opposite of what she was thinking.
Kris blinked rapidly. “Okay, I was just thinking…well. Is something wrong, Claire?”
Claire bit her lip. “No, sorry. Of course she can join us if she wants. Ask her when she gets here, and tomorrow she can bring lunch for all three of us.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Tomorrow I won’t be here for lunch. I’m going into Chartres and having lunch at Millie’s. The day after that for sure.” Kris beamed.
“On your own?” Her eyes took in every nuance of Kris’s expression. She looks happy about having lunch in town but…who does she know? How could she know anyone? She’s only been here a little over a week.
“Silly, no.” Kris smiled. “When I went into town last week to order the supplies for the renovation and helped Shirley—”
“So it’s Shirley you are having lunch with?” Claire muttered. She called me “silly.” Who does she think she is?
Kris chuckled. “No, Shirley is visiting…actually I’m not sure what she’s doing. It’s something along with the weekly shopping, I think. Remember, you wanted those apple-and-rhubarb pies from Millie’s?”
“Yes,” Claire ground out.
“I met a really nice woman. We got talking and shared a coffee. We arranged to meet for lunch tomorrow. I’ll only be gone about two hours and I can bring back more pies.” Kris smiled.
“I don’t care about any damn pies,” Claire shouted.
Kris flinched and stared at her. “There is something wrong, Claire. What is it?” She placed her hands on her hips.
Claire ground her teeth—her dentist was going to be rubbing her hands in glee if she damaged her crowns. Her irritation about Kris’s rendezvous was totally off the scale, and she didn’t know why. If she and Kris were lovers, she would understand it in part, not that having multiple partners in other relationships, even with Racheal, had ever bothered her before.
What the hel
l is happening to me? I’ve spent too much time alone since the accident. That must be it.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, Kris. I’m tired. I think I need to rest,” Claire softly replied. “I’ll see you later.” She quickly walked down the three steps to the garden area and headed off toward the house.
“Claire, wait.”
She ignored Kris’s appeal. Just as Claire turned onto the main path to Seasons, Shirley appeared with a wicker basket.
“Oh, are you having lunch at the house?” Shirley asked.
“No, I’ll see you at dinner.” Claire stomped off toward Seasons.
“Was it something I said?” Kris murmured, getting over the shock of Claire leaving so suddenly. Maybe she was tired. I forget she’s physically impaired, but to me she isn’t.
Her stance shifted as she glanced toward the overgrowth and the trodden-down long grass Claire had walked through. The sound of a breaking twig had her looking expectantly into the vegetation. Claire’s coming back. Then Shirley appeared and Kris disguised her disappointment with a tight smile.
“Is it lunchtime already?”
“Yes, twelve thirty as always. Claire is heading for the house and said she doesn’t want lunch. Is something wrong?”
Kris smiled, though her stomach churned. “To be honest, I don’t know. She seemed okay one minute, then the next….” She held up her hands.
Shirley sniffed the air, placing the basket on the deck, and looked around. “You told her that tomorrow you are seeing someone else.”
Kris almost fell over at the remark. “How did you know I said I was having lunch with a new friend?”
Shirley shook her head. “One day you will find out. I told you it might not be a good idea.”
Kris frowned at her mysterious tone. “That’s ridiculous. It’s only lunch and Claire can come along if she wants. She left before I could say that.” Kris shook her head and sat down heavily on the deck next to the lunch basket.
