Disclosures - SF4
Page 30
Jamie leaned over and whispered, "If you let him hear you say that, we'll be banished!"
Moments later Giancarlo returned. He looked rather depressed as he picked up Ryan's long tresses and lethargically pulled them from her face again. He shook his head sadly as his fingers delicately traced her high cheekbones and her strong jaw. "So sad," he muttered.
Finally, Jamie played her trump card. "Giancarlo, how long is Pietro's hair?" she asked innocently. Pietro was Carlo's much younger, incredibly good-looking partner. He pursed his lips and gave a small shrug as he indicated that his lover’s hair was about two inches shorter than Ryan's. "He has incredible bone structure also. Why not cut his hair short?"
Fire glowed in his dark eyes as he whirled around to stare at Jamie. "Never!" he nearly shouted. "His hair is....it is...." he trailed off as he tried to make his point with wild gesticulations of his hands. Immediately his expression softened and he threw his arms around Jamie. "I see! I see! It is for the love that you need the hair. Why didn't you say so, cara mia? For love--I understand!"
By the time Giancarlo was ready to proceed, all of the other stylists had gone to lunch. The front door was locked and they were alone in the small shop. Most salons such as this would never close during the middle of the day, but Giancarlo marched to his own drummer. He needed at least a two-hour lunch to relax and spend time with Pietro. Jamie had learned long ago not to rush Carlo or accept the first appointment after lunch. He could be 20 minutes late, or they might have had a fight--either way, you didn't want him to be angry with a scissors in his hand.
After he had washed Ryan's hair with some fabulous-smelling herbal shampoo, he finally began to cut. After 15 minutes he had barely removed two inches. Now the dark hair just reached the bottoms of her scapulas, but there was little real difference from her previous length. He and Jamie both walked around Ryan slowly, assessing the change. Pursed lips and sharp headshakes indicated that more must come off. Another 15 minutes saw another two inches fall to the floor. The same process was repeated until they were both satisfied. Ryan was surprised that Jamie had let him take so much off, but she was very pleased with the look. Now her dark tresses fell only an inch or two below her shoulders.
Carlo rubbed some great-smelling product into her hair and pulled out his blow dryer. When he was done, the stylish cut looked absolutely fantastic. Her hair shone brightly due to the conditioner, and it bounced around her shoulders when she walked, which she was forced to do several times so that both of her critics were sure they were satisfied. To Jamie’s surprise the normally straight hair had a bit of curl to it at this new length, and it curled under attractively with just the turn of a round brush as it was blown dry. Ryan could still gather it up in a ponytail, and when it was up, it would be off her neck completely.
"Okay, sit back down," he said to Ryan. "Jamie must perform the final test."
He said something to her in Italian and she roared with laughter, but she did as he asked. She climbed up on to Ryan's lap and leaned in for a deep kiss as she slid her fingers through her shorter tresses. She ruffled her fingers through her hair repeatedly as she pulled away and proclaimed, "Magnifico!"
Giancarlo gave them both a courtly bow and a very big smile, "I am inspired by love!"
It was nearly 12:30 and very clear that Jamie could not get her haircut as well as make it to the golf course, so she opted for the decadent choice. "Carlo, can I buy you lunch?" she asked.
"Si," he replied. "Pietro is at the beach today, working on his tan. I am alone for dinner. Let me cut your hair, then we will be off."
She tossed the keys to Ryan and said, "Go on to work, Honey. I'll take a cab back if we finish while you’re still at work. If not, I'll page you and you can come get me, okay?"
"Sure," Ryan said as she bent down to kiss her. She turned to Giancarlo and extended her hand, but he wrapped his arms around her in a firm hug and then kissed both of her cheeks. She looked a little shy, but she gingerly returned a kiss to one of his cheeks.
"She is so beautiful and so strong," he said as he ran his hands down her arms. He made another joke in Italian that had Jamie gasping for air. Ryan just waved and walked out the door, hearing their laughter as she started down the street.
"The rich are different than us," she grumbled as she hopped in the car.
Later that night Ryan was getting ready for bed when she commented, "We didn’t get anywhere near a bank today, Babe."
"I know, Hon," Jamie called from her room. "We’ll get there sometime this week. The days just get away from us, don’t they?"
"Sure do," Ryan agreed. Stepping into the bath, she noticed some of the shampoo and conditioner from that afternoon lying on the counter. "Did you buy this for me?" she asked with a delighted grin as she came out of the bathroom holding one of the bottles aloft.
"Yeah. It made your hair shine so nice and smell so good, I couldn't resist."
"What did today’s little escapade set you back?" she asked as she went back into the bathroom.
"Ummm, it was more than Supercuts," she said weakly.
"That bad, huh?"
"Well, Honey, we took up the space of three clients. I had to tip him really well for that."
"And you had to buy him lunch?"
"No, I wanted to buy him lunch. I really like Carlo and I wanted to tell him more about you. He knows all the best restaurants and I had a fabulous meal. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing is wrong with it, Baby," she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's just that sometimes I feel really different from you. Do you know what I mean?"
"Not really," she admitted, scooting over to sit close to her partner.
"Like the fact that you can just start speaking Italian without an accent. Were you in Italy so much that you just picked it up?"
Jamie shook her head. "No, I had an Italian tutor when I was little. Mother speaks Italian too, but she didn't learn until she was older and she has an accent. She was determined that I would speak like a native, so she hired a tutor for me when I was about three. I studied until I was in high school. It was kind of neat to be able to take Italian in high school and have some easy As’," she said, remembering her difficult course load in high school.
Ryan nodded her head up and down a few times. "That's exactly what I mean. Your money lets you do things that I could not even begin to fathom. Granted, I've been to Europe at least 15 times, but I stayed with relatives and we had to save all year long just to cover the airfare."
"Honey, I know you didn't grow up with money, but what bothered you today?"
"I don't know," she said as she flopped down on the bed. "It bothered me a little that you could speak Italian and I didn’t even know that you could do that. I guess I just felt like you were taking your uncultured servant girl into town to have her hair cut. I couldn't understand a thing you said to each other. You were laughing the whole time, and I assume some of it was at my expense. I didn't even get a vote on how my own hair was to be cut."
"Oh Ryan, I'm so sorry," she said sincerely, suddenly seeing the experience through Ryan’s eyes. "I never meant to hurt your feelings or make you feel left out. I guess I just got carried away with Carlo." She leaned over so that they were face to face. "I’m truly sorry, Honey. That was terribly insensitive of me. Do you hate your new haircut?" she asked as she ran her fingers through the shiny tresses.
"No, I love it. I might not have gone this short, but I'm really glad he did. I worked out after my client and it felt so much better, it was amazing. I haven't had my hair this short since I was little, so I had no idea how much better it would feel."
"So are you more upset about feeling left out?"
"Maybe. I really didn't like that you were speaking a language that I couldn't understand. It just made me feel kind of stupid and coarse."
"I'm truly sorry, Ryan. I should have at least translated for you. That was really rude of me."
"It's okay," she said with a small smile. "I'll get ov
er it."
"No, it's not okay. You don't have to go back there if you don't want to. We can find some other place to keep you trimmed."
Now Ryan felt like she had made too big of a deal out of the incident. She tried to back off from her harsh assessment of the day. "No, I really like the way he cut it. But I would like it if you would speak English."
"I'm not sure that would be an improvement," Jamie mused. "I find him very easy to understand in Italian, but I think he's incomprehensible in English. You might have to translate for me!"
"What the heck were you laughing about the whole time?" she asked, still a little cross at being left in the dark.
"Most of the jokes don't translate well," she admitted. "He makes a lot of plays on words that are very funny in Italian because of the sounds of the words. But the English words don't make the same sound, so there is no joke." She ran her hand along Ryan's taut belly as she recalled one little joke. "Remember when he was talking about how beautiful and strong you were?"
"Yeah," she said, her voice a little higher than normal from the teasing touch playing across her tummy.
"He said something about you being carved out of stone, but having breasts and hips made from goose down. Not at all funny in English, but the words themselves are funny in Italian."
"That really isn't funny," she admitted. Giving in to her insecurity, she asked, "Was he making fun of me at all?"
"No!" Jamie sat up abruptly. "I would never allow that, Ryan! I'm shocked that you would even think that!"
"Well, you were laughing so much, I just felt really left out. I couldn't help but feel self-conscious."
"He was making jokes about your body, but they were all very complimentary. He said he bet I got lost in your big strong arms, and he guessed that a strong woman like you could make love all night long." She began to run her fingers up the firm belly again. "I didn't feel the need to correct him," she said with a sultry laugh. "Then he said if he could have you in bed he might not even miss a penis."
Ryan blushed a little as Jamie kept rubbing her belly. "Maybe it was best that I couldn't understand him," she admitted a little weakly. "I would have been mortified."
"He asked me if I grabbed your hair and rode you like a pony," she whispered into Ryan's still-pink ear.
"What did you say?" she gulped.
"I said, 'Thanks for the suggestion'," she breathed as she slowly turned her over onto her belly and slid across her firm butt until she was straddling her, then laced her fingers through her hair and began to grind against her in a sensual rhythm.
"Maybe he's not such a bad guy," Ryan choked out with her last lucid thought.
Their nighttime frolics had kept Ryan up far too late for her to even think of getting up to run on Tuesday morning. She cracked open one reluctant eye and snapped it shut tightly against the glare of the fully-risen sun. As usual, Jamie detected her movement and snuggled up even tighter against her body. "Go ‘way," the grumpy blonde growled at the sun, pulling the pale blue sheet over her face.
Ryan’s desires matched her partner’s perfectly, and she clambered to her feet and crossed the room to pull the window shade down, closing the marine blue curtains just for good measure. "And stay out," she grumbled before falling heavily onto the bed and snaking her long arm out to pull Jamie close. "Are we alone today?" she asked through a massive yawn.
"All day," Jamie murmured as she rolled over to face her partner. She burrowed her head against the junction of Ryan’s arm and shoulder until she had created a comfortable pillow for herself, and was asleep before Ryan could express her contentment with that state of affairs.
Jamie was just about to indulge in her morning ritual when Ryan came bounding down the stairs. She was bristling with energy after her nine-hour rest, and she quickly wore out her welcome badgering her partner. "Wanna go to the gym with me?"
"No."
"Bike ride?"
"No."
"Wanna go down to the marina and rent kayaks?"
A much longer pause before the same answer was given. "No…are you nuts?"
"I feel good!" she proclaimed, stretching her long arms straight out from the shoulders. "It’s a beautiful day, I’m well rested, nothing hurts, nothing’s broken, I have the most wonderful woman in the world sitting just a few feet from me. How can I not be happy?"
Jamie gave her an aggrieved smile and said, "Could I have just a few minutes to catch up with you, Sport? I promise I’ll get there if I can have my coffee and eat my toast."
"Sure, Love." Ryan leaned over and kissed her grumpy partner on the head. "I’ll do better than that. I’ll go over to the weight room and work out with some of the people from the team. They get together on Tuesday and Thursday mornings for an informal session."
Jamie offered a guilty smile to her partner. "Am I pushing you away, Honey? I promise I’ll be chipper soon."
"Not at all," Ryan assured her. "This will give me a chance to meet some of the guys. You take it easy, and wake up as slowly as you need. Don’t give it another thought. I know I can be a little much to take in the morning."
Jamie grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled her close. Her hands climbed up the shirt, pulling Ryan towards her with each handhold. "You were a little much to take last night, Tiger," she whispered seductively. "But I’m not complaining. I just have to build up my stamina." A kiss filled with gratitude underscored her words, and she sent Ryan off with a playful swat on the seat. "Go work off some energy, Love. I’ll be waiting for you with open arms."
"I bet no one else in the weight room will have as much motivation to finish as I do!" And with that, she was off, scampering down the front stairs with glee.
"Hi, Babe!" Jamie was in very bright spirits when Ryan came home two hours later. Regrettably, she was already in her golf clothes and had her car keys in her hand. "I talked to Scott and he gave me the name of another woman who’s trying out for the golf team. We’re gonna go play Tilden this afternoon, but I’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make our tee time."
"That’s okay, Love," Ryan said agreeably. She was a little disappointed, but she knew this was important to Jamie so she focused on being supportive. "I know this means a lot to you, so you go play. I should really catch up with my e-mail anyway. I haven’t checked it in so long, it’s a shame."
"Thanks, Babe," Jamie said, standing on her tiptoes for a kiss. "I’ll be home as soon as I can, but Tilden takes forever to get around. Don’t expect me before six, okay?"
"Fine, Hon," Ryan agreed. "Let’s just order in since it’s not clear when you’ll be home."
"It’s a deal. Wish me luck."
Ryan watched her trot down the stairs, a slow smile crossing her face as she watched her muscular body move down the front path. Well, I’m ready, she thought with a smirk at her rambunctious libido.
She was changing into her work clothes when her pager went off. Checking the number, she failed to recognize it and decided it was one of the many wrong numbers she received. After she finished dressing she went down to the living room to return the call. The area code was from the Peninsula, and she was certain that she didn’t know anyone down there, but she dutifully punched in the 11 digits. The phone was answered on the second ring by a woman's soft voice. "Hello?"
"Hi, this is Ryan O'Flaherty. Did you page me?"
There was a slight pause as the voice grew even softer. "Hello, Ryan."
All of the blood drained out of Ryan's face and she found herself blindly grasping for a chair to support her rubbery legs. Seconds passed as she tried to collect herself enough to answer. After what seemed like a lifetime, she was finally able to rasp out, "Hello, Sara."
"Is it all right to call you, Ryan?" The mere sound of her melodious soprano voice carried Ryan back to her youth, and she was buffeted by images of her best friend and first love.
"Of course it’s all right," Ryan replied, surprised at the strength of her own voice.
"I know I'm six years too late, and I won’t blame you i
f you tell me to go to hell, but I’m calling to apologize, Ryan."
"Apologize?" Ryan was too stunned to do much more than parrot Sara’s statement. She knew she sounded slow-witted, but she could not make her mouth behave.
"Yes…I want to apologize, Ryan. My mother told me a little bit of what you said on Sunday, and I can’t let another day pass without owning up to how I wronged you."
"Wronged me," Ryan repeated dully, simultaneously slapping herself in the head for her inability to form a cogent thought.
"Ryan," Sara soothed in the voice that had calmed her fears and bolstered her ego for so many years, "let me come over and talk to you in person."
"In person?" Her eyes grew wide and she actually pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it for a moment. "You want to come over?"
"If you’ll let me," she said. "I deserve to be kicked in the teeth, but if you’ll let me, I’d love to apologize in person."
Despite her rapidly beating heart and weak knees, Ryan had to smile at her former friend’s self-deprecating comments. "I would never be cruel to you, Sara. I couldn't be," she said softly. "I loved you too much to hurt you."
She heard her former friend draw in a deep breath and thought she could detect her struggling with her composure. "I should have known you'd be too generous to be cruel to me, Ryan, but it's what I deserve, nonetheless. Mother says you're living in Berkeley, now. I can be there in an hour if you’ll let me. I promise I won’t take much of your time."
Ryan closed her eyes and considered the situation. She had time this afternoon, but how would Jamie feel about having this woman in her home? She decided to follow Jamie's clear instructions and treat the place as though it were her own. If Sara had called her when she was home, she had no doubt that she would have invited her over. Her genuine compassion and overwhelming curiosity took over, and she heard herself answer, "I'm home after 3:30 today. Could you make it then?"