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I Remember

Page 3

by Julie Cannon


  “To say the least.” Emery still didn’t make eye contact. This Emery was far different from the woman she’d spent three weeks with. That woman was confident, sure of herself, and direct. This one seemed anything but.

  “I suppose we should talk about it,” Emery said.

  “That depends.”

  Emery finally looked at her. “On?”

  “On whether this is a personal or professional lunch.”

  Emery had no clue how to answer that question. She had lain awake most of the night trying to figure it out. She had always been able to separate business from pleasure, and working in such a male-dominated field had made it even easier. Rarely did she encounter a woman she was attracted to, and when she did she simply put the thoughts out of her head. Business was business and pleasure was pleasure. As simple as that.

  In her adult life she had seen several instances where sex ruined a promising career and never understood how someone could let it happen. She was emotionally strong and believed that she always had control over her decisions. Things didn’t “just happen.” As far as she was concerned that was just an excuse.

  At least her father hadn’t made excuses. A successful auto executive, he had traveled more than he’d been at home, enabling him to have a series of affairs that blew up in his face when he met the wrong woman. When the dust had finally settled, Emery’s happy childhood filled with security and love instantly turned into shame, humiliation, and endless teasing by her classmates. Her father lost his job and turned to drinking to solve his problems. Her mother, an emotionally frail woman to begin with, withdrew even further, allowing her husband to drink and her kids to go to bed hungry. Emery swore that she would never be as weak as her father or mother.

  Emery answered honestly. “I’m not certain how to answer that.”

  “Which would you like it to be?”

  She suddenly realized she was acting just like her father. She was weak, vacillating between what she wanted and what she needed to do. Her father had chosen the easy way, and she remembered that cold day in February when the house had no heat and she had to go to school wearing dirty clothes. That day had changed her life. From that point on she would not and did not allow her emotions to run her life. And look what she’d got for it. Almost killing herself under the stress of it all.

  She sat up straighter and cleared her throat, willing her voice to be strong. “It doesn’t matter what I’d like. I have a company to think about. Hundreds of millions of dollars are at stake in contracts, thousands of lives depend on me for their job, their livelihood, their future. Martin Engineering cannot be involved in another scandal. I’ve no doubt you’ve done your homework, Ms. Worthington, and you’re well aware that we’re on the watch list. Under a very large microscope, I might add. Any hint of a problem, a misplaced comma, or another of its executives caught with their pants down, so to speak, spells the end of Martin.” Emery leaned forward and looked Dana straight in the eye. “And it will not happen on my watch.”

  The force of her words surprised even her. She had given the same speech dozens of times in the past three years. Whether it was at shareholder meetings, standing in front of employees at any of Martin’s thirty-five locations around the world, or her own staff meetings, she would tolerate no misunderstanding.

  “You are the best person for this job, Ms. Worthington, and I’d like to have you on my team. But if it gets out that we knew each other,” Emery hesitated, searching for the right word, “socially, then your reputation is fucked, mine is screwed, and Martin Engineering is history.”

  Emery had thought very hard about what she would say to Dana today. If word got out that they had a prior relationship, Dana would forever be tainted with the label of sleeping with the boss to get a job.

  “You look nothing like your picture.”

  Dana’s statement caught her off guard. “What?”

  “I researched Martin Engineering thoroughly and I didn’t even recognize you.”

  “Yeah, well, that picture’s a few years old. Amazing what a new haircut and a completely different setting can do,” she said dryly.

  “Where did EJ come from? EJ, the name you used on the ship.”

  Emery had been expecting this conversation, but she still felt completely unprepared. Then again, nothing about the last month was expected. She hadn’t expected to collapse from exhaustion, be banished to a boat for three weeks, and hook up with a smart, charming, intelligent, sexy, passionate woman whom she ended up interviewing for a job. Just exactly when did her life go from everything in order to everything fucked up?

  “My initials. Emery Jones. And Dee? Is that Dee spelled D-E-E or D for Dana?” Emery found herself asking.

  “Either one. Walker is my mother’s maiden name. Why the subterfuge?”

  Emery didn’t answer the question. “I don’t remember either one of us asking any personal, probing questions.”

  Dana shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose we did.”

  “So why the subterfuge?” Emery turned the question around.

  “I don’t know. It sounded like a good idea at the time. I wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone, and keeping it light seemed the way to do it.”

  The waiter brought their lunch and Dana said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Emery made a decision she hoped she didn’t regret. “I was under doctor’s orders to get away from the stress of my job and rest. What better way than to pretend to be someone completely different?”

  The chatter of the women around the table hadn’t stopped since EJ sat down. The seating chart for the seven-thirty dinner put her between a couple celebrating their twentieth anniversary and one of three other single women at the table alone. Next to the couple were newlyweds and to their left a pair of bleached blondes from Florida.

  The room buzzed with the sound of excited voices meeting new friends. Jewelry glinted in the fluorescent lights, and everyone had heeded the notice that semi-formal dress was required. EJ felt comfortable in her Chanel silk suit, the deep-green shade adding color to her pale cheeks. She had stopped at the salon earlier this afternoon and instructed the stylist to cut it all off and give her a crisp, clean look.” Three hours later her shoulder-length locks were gone and not a hair on her head was longer than an inch. That and the highlights made her look and feel ten years younger.

  Tuxedo-clad waiters slipped silently between the forty-plus other tables, filling wine glasses and placing heavy plates on white linen tablecloths. The lighting was turned up, inviting conversation across the wide tables.

  “EJ, where are you from?” Kim, one of the other single travelers at the table, asked. EJ had felt Kim zero in on her the minute she sat down. Kim was attractive, and any other time EJ would have taken her up on her obvious offer, but she was surprisingly not interested. Also her physician said she needed rest, and what Kim was silently proposing would be anything but.

  “Las Vegas,” EJ answered, naming her favorite city but not where she lived. When she booked this trip she’d decided to leave her entire life behind, and that included her name, hometown, and profession. Her middle name was Jones, and she would be less likely to slip if she kept her lies close to the truth.

  “I love Las Vegas,” Kim replied, her Southern drawl heavy. If EJ had been blind or somehow missed the glint of sexual adventure in her eyes, she couldn’t miss Kim’s warm hand lightly touching her forearm. “I always feel like a different person when I’m there. Absolutely nothing holding me,” she hesitated for a moment and used the opportunity to lean into EJ, “except a sexy, exciting woman.”

  Kim’s soft breast pressed against EJ’s arm and she resisted the urge to shift and break the contact. She wasn’t interested but didn’t want to alienate her dinner partner. “Then I’m glad it’s lived up to its reputation.” One of the ladies to her left rescued EJ by engaging Kim in conversation. She sent her a silent thank-you for directing Kim’s attention away from her—at least for a few minutes.
r />   As the women talked, she surveyed the rest of the room. By reading body language and keeping in mind that this was their first night together, she suspected that similar get-acquainted conversations were happening at the other tables as well. Bored, she stopped her eyes from roaming when she spotted the woman who sat two tables away, directly facing her. It was the woman from the deck earlier this afternoon.

  Her hair was down but pulled away from her face, highlighting her cheekbones and long neck. Her dress, what little EJ could see, was jade-green and sleeveless, accentuating those arms again. A clunky bracelet slid down her left arm as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. EJ’s pulse kicked up at the simple gesture and increased tenfold when the stranger laughed at something the woman next to her said. Had the lighting in the room changed or was her smile actually that radiant?

  For several minutes EJ couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She was animated, attentive, and impartially sociable. EJ wished she were seated at that table but changed her mind when she realized her current seating assignment gave her the unobstructed, undetected ability to simply watch her. Kim, however, had other ideas for her attention.

  “EJ?”

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” EJ replied, shaking her head a bit when she realized someone had asked her a question.

  “I asked what you did for a living?”

  Kim was apparently more interested in her body and her bank account than her brain. “A little of this and a little of that,” she said evasively.

  Kim leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “You’ll have to tell me more about that later.”

  EJ pasted on a fake smile. She wasn’t interested in telling her anything other than what she had to during polite conversation.

  Dinner finally arrived and, as much as she tried to become interested in the conversation at her own table, her attention kept straying to the woman in green. The way she interacted with the others at her table made it apparent that she was definitely traveling alone.

  On one occasion the woman caught EJ looking at her. She held her eyes the way women did when they were interested in what they saw, and EJ lost all sense of her surroundings. All sound ceased, no one moved, and nothing existed except the woman looking at her. She felt completely exposed as warmth spread through her body. Her mouth was dry and her hands trembled slightly.

  The woman’s eyes totally captured her. She couldn’t look away even if she’d wanted to. She didn’t believe in love at first sight and had often been immediately physically attracted to a woman, but she’d never experienced anything like this.

  *

  EJ had intentionally followed the woman after she left the restaurant, wanting to speak with her. She had excused herself from the conversation around her when the woman rose and walked away from her table and out the door. In truth, she could barely speak for several seconds. The woman was stunningly beautiful in the green dress, perfectly cut to accentuate her height and draw attention to her face. A fashionable new length, the dress floated around the woman’s mid-calf. As she walked, EJ glimpsed long legs before the back of the gown, cut low to display a healthy portion of the woman’s tanned skin. The slight sway of feminine hips equally enticed EJ, who had to tell her mouth to shut.

  The woman casually strolled across the deck and entered the mini-theater. EJ quickly read the notice that described the traveling troupe of the latest Broadway hit was performing three nights a week during the cruise. She wasn’t a fan of live theater, but when the woman entered the auditorium she followed. She let the woman choose her seat and get settled before she approached. She couldn’t have set up a more perfect first-meeting scenario.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  The bluest eyes EJ had ever seen looked up at her. They were bright, clear, and direct.

  ‘No.”

  “Is that seat taken?” EJ asked, indicating the empty seat on the other side of the woman. The spark of understanding that flickered to life in the woman’s eye when she answered the subtext of her question told EJ she’d heard the double meaning of her question. Her answer came slowly and EJ struggled not to fidget.

  The woman was more beautiful up close, her skin flawless, her cheeks tinted with color. Her green eyes were sharp, intelligent, and unwavering.

  “No.”

  “Then may I join you?” EJ hoped the answer this time was yes. Three no’s in a row and she would definitely strike out.

  The woman hesitated for several moments, as if weighing her options. EJ watched the questions cycle through her eyes. Uncharacteristically uncomfortable with the silence, she was about to excuse herself when the woman answered.

  “What is the woman who was hanging all over you at dinner going to say?”

  That certainly wasn’t the answer EJ had expected, and she couldn’t help but smile. So this woman had been watching her as much as EJ had been watching her. This woman wasn’t only beautiful but definitely no-nonsense. Her heart beat a little faster. “I don’t know. Probably something other than she pulled out all the stops to seduce me and didn’t get anywhere.”

  Again the woman paused before answering. Her eyes darted back and forth at EJ’s as if looking for a chink in her façade, a lie waiting to be uttered or fate to intervene. She certainly hoped it was the latter. On the occasions when someone had turned her down she had accepted the rejection without issue, but for the first time in a long time she really wanted her to say yes. She wanted this woman to say yes. Her heart jumped when the woman tilted her head and smiled at her.

  “Please do.”

  Before EJ sat she extended her hand. For some odd reason she was surprised to see it wasn’t shaking. “EJ Connor.”

  This time, without hesitating, the woman slipped her hand into hers. It was warm, her handshake firm and confident.

  “Dee Walker.”

  EJ sat, her long legs touching the seat in front of her. Normally she would have hated being squeezed into a seat like this, but this time she didn’t mind at all.

  “Did your friends think you were crazy to come on this cruise alone as much as mine did?”

  Dee’s voice was soft and smooth and sounded like whipped cream. EJ wanted her to repeat the question just to hear her voice again, but asking her to do so would be rude. “How bad was it?” she asked instead, effectively dodging the question.

  “They were ragging on me up until the last minute. Like I’d suddenly change my mind and call someone and invite them the night before we set sail.” The sparkle in her eyes told EJ that their persistence didn’t upset her very much. “What would you have done if I’d called you at the last minute and asked you to go on a three-week cruise to the Caribbean and you had less than twelve hours to pack?”

  She answered boldly. “If I’d be sharing a stateroom with you I’d have asked what time you were picking me up.” The truth came out of her mouth before she had a chance to censor it.

  Luckily the woman chuckled, then replied, “I guess I should get your number in case the opportunity ever comes up again.”

  “708-555-2863.”

  This time Dee laughed. “You’re quite a risk taker, Ms. Connor. You don’t even know if I snore or hog the covers.”

  The gleam of mischief on Dee’s face made EJ’s breath catch in her throat. She leaned closer, her lips almost touching Dee’s. “What makes you think we’d get any sleep, Ms. Walker?”

  Dee turned to look at her, their lips very, very close. Neither of them moved for what felt like forever, and when Dee finally eased her head back, EJ was surprisingly relieved. This time Dee broke into a wide grin.

  “You’re good, really good,” Dee said, drawing out the last two words. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown softened by her next words. “Dangerously good.”

  The waiter returned and refilled Emery’s tea, the clinking of the ice against the glass pulling her attention back from her daydream. The images had flashed through her mind, but each scene was as clear as if it were playing out in front of her here
and now.

  Dana was looking at her seriously and Emery was about to say something when her chair was bumped from behind.

  “Oh my, please excuse me. I haven’t had my license for this for very long.”

  Emery shifted in her chair and turned, expecting to simply accept the woman’s apology, but instead came face to face with a woman more than twice her age with a death grip on a dark-brown walker. She smiled as she rose and moved her chair a little more out of the way.

  “No problem,” she said, eyeing the woman who looked a little unsteady on her feet. “Can I help you?”

  “Oh, no, dear, I’m fine. I’m meeting my friend Gladys over there,” she said, pointing to another elderly lady at a table not far away. “You two enjoy your lunch,” she said, maneuvering her walker through the maze of chairs and tables.

  Emery sat down and looked across the table at Dana, who gazed at her as if she were reading her mind.

  “Yoo-hoo, Dee. May we join you?” One of the couples who had sat at Dee’s table waved at her and approached them. “Yoo-hoo?” EJ looked at Dee and couldn’t help but poke fun at the old-fashioned phrase.

  Dee leaned close to EJ and murmured, “It doesn’t have quite the same effect as when you asked,” she said, adding a sly wink to her comment. She motioned to the seats on her left and said to the couple, “Of course, please come and sit down.”

  “Ladies, this is EJ Connor. EJ, Vivian and Rose Hamilton.” Dee pointed in turn to each woman. “They’re celebrating their fiftieth anniversary this week.”

  The women beamed at Dee’s mention of their special occasion. Fifty years? Good God. She had rarely been able to stay interested in a woman for more than fifty days. EJ rose out of respect and old-fashioned chivalry and greeted the women. “Congratulations, ladies. You must have been child brides.” The women had to be in their early seventies. Vivian, the shorter of the two by at least a foot, looked amazingly like Queen Elizabeth. Rose, tall and regal, reminded EJ of what Grace Kelly might have looked like if she were still alive.

 

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