“When we had our fight last night,” she told him. “When I . . . pushed you. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have said what I did if I’d known what happened to you and Cheryl. What you did to me, it’s not the same thing. I want you to know, I get that it’s not the same thing.”
He smiled a little, his eyes still closed. She could see it, because she hadn’t blown out the candles yet, because she loved looking at him like this. “You mean when you teased me so hard you got spanked for it?”
“Yes,” she said, the thrill running through her again, despite everything that had happened that night, despite all the pleasure she’d just felt. “I wanted you to do it. I liked it. I want to make sure you know that.”
He opened his eyes, turned his head and smiled at her, ran his hand over her hip, and then over the curve of her bottom, and his big hand felt so good there, she knew why he’d enjoyed it so much when she’d done it to him.
“I figured that out,” he said. “I wasn’t sure about doing it at first, because I didn’t want to hurt you, but if it had really bothered me, I wouldn’t have done it. You didn’t want me to hurt you, though. You just wanted to be controlled.”
“Mmm.” She stroked his chest, his shoulder, down his arm, just for the feeling of it, the bulk of muscle, the heat of his skin. “I wanted you to be dangerous, and I knew I could push you to be, because I knew I’d be safe.”
“That’s why I could do it,” he said. “I know that you like me to be strong. I get that you want to be overpowered sometimes. And that’s all right, because I enjoy overpowering you.”
She levered herself up on an elbow, blew out the candle on her side, then leaned across him and blew out his, knowing he was watching her do it, and how much he liked watching, then settled down with him again.
“You’re right,” she told him in the darkness. “I do like it when you overpower me. No, I love it when you overpower me. And every once in a while, like tonight . . . I want to overpower you, too.”
Cinderella
“Wow,” Alyssa said a couple Saturdays later when she opened the door to Joe. “Who knew?”
“Wow yourself,” he said, taking a long look at the deep blue sleeveless cocktail dress with its high beaded collar, the tall black heels.
“You think?” She preened a bit under his scrutiny. She loved knowing that he liked how she looked. “Relic of paychecks past. Plus, it matches my eyes, did you notice?”
“No, I didn’t notice. I just noticed,” he said, leaning in and saying it low, in her ear, since Sherry was watching with interest from the living-room couch, “that I love it when you wear those collared things. Gives me bad ideas.”
“Hey, Joe,” Sherry said pointedly. “How are you?”
He smiled at her. “Hey, Sherry. How you doing?”
“Well,” she sighed, “I’d be better if some guy would show up in a tuxedo and take me out, but meh, whatever.”
Alyssa laughed. “It’s a work event,” she reminded Sherry. “A major work event. Don’t let me drink any wine,” she told Joe, “because if I do, it’s guaranteed that something will go wrong, and I’ll be all drunk and not be able to figure out how to deal with it. I’ve got so many lists, it’s crazy. I dreamed last night that I was at the party, and I realized that I’d forgotten to order any food, and I couldn’t remember anybody’s name. I’ve been studying pictures of major donors all week. I just hope nobody’s gone bald or gained fifty pounds or anything, because I’ll be sunk.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I don’t care how major he is, he’s not going to care whether you got his name right once he gets a look at you in that dress.”
“Yeah, well.” She gave a toss to her carefully tousled hair. “What if it’s a woman?”
“Then,” he conceded, “you could have a problem. Better remember the names.”
“It’s not actually too sexy, is it?” she asked, because she’d worried about that, too. “I was going for a little bit conservative. I have a red one that’s killer, but I thought, probably not.”
“No,” he said. “Probably not. And you can’t help it if you’re . . . what’s the word?”
“Curvy,” she said, and smiled at him happily, feeling so much better already. “Rather than pudgy.”
“Curvy,” he agreed, and smiled back. “Not the least bit pudgy.”
Sherry groaned. “Would you two please leave? You’re making me sick.”
“Just a sec.” Alyssa grabbed for her clutch purse on the coffee table, the one with her folded-up lists inside. “Soon as we make Joe turn around and model his tuxedo for us.”
“You have to be kidding,” he said.
“Nope.” She made the gesture with her fingers. “Twirl.”
He sighed, but held his arms out from his sides and made an obliging circle. “Happy?” he asked her, although she could tell he really didn’t mind.
“You didn’t rent that,” she told him. “Selix Formalwear does not have that size.” Because it fit his shoulders perfectly, and his waist, too, and nothing off the rack could have possibly done that.
“Well, no,” he conceded. “It’s mine.”
“You have a tuxedo.”
“Yeah. For when I need it. And we could either stand around and admire each other,” he pointed out, “or we could leave and get this over with.”
Admiring him, unfortunately, turned out to be the high point of the evening. Alyssa had had to arrive early and check in with the catering staff, to double-check the setup against her carefully prepared list, and then to stand near the welcome table and help greet the guests. Helene took her time showing up, and she hadn’t done any of the organization for the event, either. That had been all on Alyssa, and it wasn’t her best thing, and she knew it, though she thought she’d done a reasonable job. She was learning.
It all went along smoothly enough at first, to her immense relief. She did remember names, and she smiled and chatted and tried not to think about whether Joe was having a good time, because she was pretty sure that he wasn’t, at least not until Alec and Rae showed up, because that made everything a whole lot better.
Her brother, now, she thought with pride as he said a discreet hello—he was another man who looked good in a tuxedo. And Helene, who’d been doing her own mingling, clearly thought so too.
“What a pleasure,” she said, shaking Alec’s hand and then reaching for Rae’s with only the barest decrease in graciousness. “I’m so glad the two of you could make it. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for Second Chance.”
Alec made some noncommittal answer, and Helene continued. “Do you know, Alyssa here, my assistant, has the same last name you do? It’s almost like it was meant to be, isn’t it? Isn’t it a small world?”
“Very small,” Alec said, his gaze darting to Alyssa, and she knew he’d caught it, too. My assistant. She wasn’t Helene’s assistant. She was the Assistant Director of Development, and there was a difference.
Alec and Rae moved off, and Helene went with them, and Alyssa stayed in her spot near the door until the guests had finished arriving and it was time for the speeches, and then she went and found Joe.
“How you doing?” he asked, his voice low as Dr. Marsh spoke into the microphone at one end of the room, welcoming the guests.
“My feet are killing me,” she muttered back, kept the smile on her face and applauded at Dr. Marsh’s introduction of Helene.
Helene walked to the microphone, her smile infectious, her enthusiasm contagious, and Alyssa felt the power of her presence. She could turn on charisma like Alec, and when she was in the room, you noticed.
“When I was a little girl in Memphis,” she began, “I used to dream about being at a party like this. I used to imagine I was Cinderella, because I felt just like her. The cinders part, I mean,” she said with a smile, “not so much the ball.”
A ripple of laughter greeted that one. “On nights like tonight, I feel like Cinderella at the ball,” Helene went on, “an
d I look back at that little girl I was, and wish I could tell her what her future was going to look like. I wish I could give her hope. And all of those foster children out there tonight, how many of them are feeling just as hopeless? How many of them are dreaming of standing up here like me thirty-five years from now, and worrying that they’ll be on the street instead? We all know which of those scenarios is more likely. That’s why we’re here, that’s why all of you do this, and why I do it, too. I thank each and every one of you for what you’ve done, what you continue to do. I’m here to tell you what a difference programs like the ones you help to fund made for me, when I was that little girl. When I was that young woman, wondering if I’d make it, and so afraid that I wouldn’t.”
Alyssa looked around the room as Helene continued to speak. She had the attention of the crowd, not just their polite interest.
“Children like the little girl I was,” Helene went on, “children who not only don’t have the things every child should be able to count on—parents to care for them, a home that’s a safe, loving place, a stable environment in which to learn, and, above all, the security of knowing, of never questioning that their homes will go on being safe, secure, loving places—those children have nothing, not even a voice. They’re silent, and they’re silenced. They are truly powerless. The CASA program, the court-appointed special advocates who are such an important part of the network of caring you help to support, give them that voice. They’re the only power those children have. They speak for children who can’t speak for themselves. And that’s the program you’re helping to fund by your presence here tonight.”
She paused, looked down for a moment, seemed to gather her thoughts. Then looked up again, out at her audience, her voice quiet and sincere. “I know I wouldn’t have made it without my CASA volunteer. I wouldn’t have made it without the scholarship that meant I could go to college, or even without the cards that came for Christmas and my birthday from an organization just like this one, the cards that told me I wasn’t alone. A phone call to check in with me, somebody to talk to about how college was going, about what kind of plans I had for Christmas, about how I would spend the summer . . . those things were the difference between success and failure for me. Those things are the reason I’m here talking to you tonight, and they’re the reason that there’s a little boy, a little girl somewhere right here in California who’ll be standing here thirty years from now just like I’m standing here tonight, saying the very same kinds of things I’m saying now. She’ll be here, he’ll be here because somebody like you cared enough to help. Because somebody like you listened.
“So thank you,” she said. “Thank you from the bottom of the heart of the little girl I was, and from the woman I am today. Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping. Thank you for all you do. You’ll never know the extent of the difference you’ve made, but I’m here to tell you tonight, it’s there, and it’s real.”
She finished, and genuine applause broke out. Alyssa saw a few beringed hands move up to wipe away tears, and she had to concede that, even if Helene wasn’t exactly a roll-up-your-sleeves kind of boss, the woman could talk. Alyssa was applauding herself, and not just out of politeness.
Joe wasn’t, though. He was frowning, and Alyssa felt a pang of unease. “You OK?” she asked him in a low tone. “Too much to hear?”
“What?” He looked at her, his expression abstracted. “No. Never mind.”
Helene made a circuit of the room after the speeches, shaking hands, smiling and talking, and eventually ended up near Alyssa and Joe. Alyssa introduced Joe, saw Helene smile at him, a slow, assessing thing with heat to spare, and found herself stifling a flare of possessive rage that made her understand how Joe had felt that night in the Boom Boom Room, watching her dance. And Helene hadn’t done anything more than shake Joe’s hand.
“That was a wonderful speech,” she said to Helene, determined to keep this professional, to keep her cool.
“Thank you,” Helene said. “Can I tell you the truth?” She laughed a little. “I always get nervous. What did you think?” she asked Joe. “Did you think it was effective?”
“It was fine,” he said, and if he’d had an ‘I’m Not Impressed’ sign around his neck, it couldn’t have been much clearer.
“Fine?” Helene asked, still smiling, her head on one side.
“I’m not big on speeches,” he said. “And I didn’t realize CASA had a program in Memphis thirty-five years ago.”
She looked a bit surprised. “Yes, it was early days. A pilot program.”
“Lucky for you,” he said. “A college scholarship, too.”
“Lucky is right,” she said, “and believe me, I know it. That’s why I do this job. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? It’s about leaving things a little better than you found them, and giving back, when you’ve been given so much. That’s what I appreciate about all the people here tonight. They could be donating to the opera or the ballet. I know their parties are better. Though I thought things ran pretty well tonight, Alyssa,” she added, “considering it’s your first event. Only a few little glitches.”
Alyssa bit her tongue. How could Helene give a compliment that felt so little like one?
“And what do you do, Joe?” Helene went on. “Do you work here in the City?”
“Yeah,” he said. “In tech.”
“Really,” she said with an arch of an eyebrow. “Well, isn’t that fortunate? Is that where the inspiration for Alyssa’s little field day idea came from? I’m sure she appreciated your help. Coaching’s always welcome, I know, when you’re starting out.”
“No. That wasn’t my idea. It was all hers. And I don’t think Alyssa needs my coaching.”
Helene smiled again. “Oh, I’m guessing she’s happy to have your advice. We can all use a little boost at the beginning. I know you’re not happy that you haven’t quite been able to meet your goals,” she told Alyssa. “But it’ll come, if you just keep trying. Not everybody is a natural at this. For some people, it’s just a matter of persistence.”
Alyssa opened her mouth, then shut it again. How did she answer that? And who—who—would belittle somebody’s performance at a work function, in front of a friend? In front of a boyfriend? Because Helene had to have figured that out. Alyssa knew by now that her boss didn’t miss a trick.
“If Alyssa isn’t interested, I am. I’d love to pick your brain,” Helene moved a step closer, put her manicured hand, with its long red fingernails—its talons—on Joe’s black-suited arm. “I can always use some fresh ideas,” she said, and Alyssa fought the urge to hiss.
Joe was looking more wooden than ever. He took Alyssa’s hand, forcing Helene’s to slide from his sleeve. “I’m happy to share my ideas,” he said. “With Alyssa. If she asks me for them.”
Helene recovered fast. “Well,” she said with another laugh, “I’m sure she’s grateful.”
Joe nodded. “Excuse me.” He turned, pulling Alyssa along with him, and made for the bar.
“Joe,” she said, “that was almost . . . rude.”
“Was it?”
“You know it was.”
“Tough,” he said. “I didn’t like her.”
She got a little satisfaction from that, because the truth was, she didn’t like Helene that much either. She didn’t. She’d tried not to face it, but it was true. “She gave a good speech, though.”
“Effective,” he said, but then Dr. Marsh was there, and Alyssa smiled automatically.
“Alyssa,” the Director said expansively, his face pink with pleasure at the success of the evening. “This is a triumph for you. I know how much planning goes into this event, and it’s your first one. And here we are, everything going so smoothly, and about the best speech I’ve ever heard. Aren’t we lucky to have Helene on board? I thought losing Suzanne was a blow, but we haven’t missed a beat.”
“Yes,” Alyssa said. “It was a great speech.” She introduced Joe, and Dr. Marsh shook his hand cordially, then retu
rned to the topic at hand.
“You couldn’t be learning from a better example,” he told Alyssa. “The idea she presented to the board a few weeks ago, her Geek Day? Has she shared that with you yet? Brilliant, just brilliant. That’s exactly the kind of visionary thinking this organization needs.”
Alyssa felt everything inside her going cold. “Her idea?” she managed to get out.
“Yes. You did hear about it, then?”
“Yes,” she said, so frozen she could barely move. “I heard.”
“Well, I’m telling you, if you’re lucky enough to be in this field for over thirty years the way I have been,” the older man said, “you’ll realize what a rut we all fall into. Oh, everyone has the best of intentions, but there’s a tendency to do the same old things, not to think outside the box. When you find somebody who can do that, especially in Development, that’s a find indeed.”
“But . . .” Alyssa said. She wasn’t sure how to answer, how to explain, but she didn’t get the chance, because Dr. Marsh caught an eye and hustled off with a quick “Excuse me” to chat up a donor.
“Her idea?” She was spluttering. “Her idea?”
“Talk to her,” Joe said. “Right now. Talk to her.”
She searched Helene out in the crowd, waited impatiently while she schmoozed another donor, was finally able to approach her when the man turned away.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice shaking only a little.
“Yes?” Helene asked. Her eyes flitted to the door. “People are starting to leave. Shouldn’t you be over there saying goodbye?”
Alyssa ignored that. “I was just speaking to Dr. Marsh,” she began. “He was congratulating me on Geek Day. On your idea for Geek Day.”
Helene’s smile didn’t waver. “Yes,” she said, “I told you that he and the board were excited. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? It’ll be a lot of work, but like I always say, with the right attitude, anything is possible.”
“It was my idea,” Alyssa said bluntly. “You didn’t tell them that. I could tell.”
Asking for Trouble (The Kincaids) Page 25
