It wasn’t that she was afraid of men. She’d had a few lovers—youthful relationships borne of curiosity and affection yet nothing lasting—but she was never a girl to just fall into bed with anyone who offered. She and Ronny had been the children of a woman who had been promiscuous and careless in her sexual encounters, leaving her babies at the hospital for social services to take almost as soon as they’d been born.
Charlotte would never do that—she’d gone without family for so long that she could never leave a child behind. But she didn’t plan on ever having to make that decision. She wasn’t a one-night stand kind of girl; she wanted something more. She wanted romance. Real, honest-to-goodness love and romance. And maybe children, someday.
She selected some tiny Coleus specimens to plant around the base of the pansies—one of her secrets was to plant boxes with several tiers that developed over time—to shade the roots and retain the moisture in the southern heat. If the little purple-and-green leaves were pruned just right, they would remain small and low, covering the dirt of the box and providing lush background color for the flowers, and protecting the dirt from hard rains that often came with afternoon storms. It was like creating a tiny forest.
Her thoughts drifted back to EJB. She wondered what his real name was, and what he looked like. And if she dared to ask him. She was trying to run a professional service, and didn’t want to scare him away by being forward. He was a client who came to her for insight, after all. He’d trusted her with some of his innermost secrets and thoughts, spoken of his desires and needs. She couldn’t take advantage of that, though in their last discussion, when he’d asked her if she would tell him what she wanted, how to kiss her, she’d almost given in.
A riff of anticipation made her smile to herself as she finished one of the boxes—while she wasn’t one to wish her time away, she couldn’t wait to chat with him online again that evening.
EJ STRETCHED OUT on the beat-up leather sofa that dominated the den in his family home in Ghent, an upscale neighborhood close to downtown Norfolk. Though he loved the house, he didn’t spend much time here. In fact, he knew that deep down he was avoiding being here more than he had to. It had just gotten too quiet. Unless he had company—especially of the female variety—he would rather be out and about, doing something interesting, rather than haunting around the huge house on his own.
His mother had moved into a smaller house that their family owned near the shore shortly after his father had passed on, and his sister, Grace, lived downtown to be close to the office. It was a big house for one man, but he couldn’t part with it. He’d grown up here, a bustling place with beautiful gardens, filled with children, guests and pets. Maybe it would be again one day. His sister might get married, have children. She would probably want to live in the house, should that happen, and he would gladly find his own place.
Maybe he’d get a dog—walking dogs was supposed to be another good way to meet women. But that would probably require getting some little froufrou pooch, and he wasn’t up for that. Nah, if he got a canine friend, it would be a man’s dog—a Great Dane or maybe a Lab or a Weimaraner. A solid hunting dog.
He hadn’t been hunting since he was a boy. When he and his dad would drive to the Virginia woods, they’d spend more time talking than hunting. Still he’d snagged a few ducks and some deer in his younger years. A dog would come in handy for hunting. Right now though, he was gone far too much with his job to have the responsibility of a pet.
It was dark, and the crickets were singing out in the yard. Still musing, he filled his wineglass, settling back and waiting for his appointment to begin; he had a few minutes yet. But surprisingly, just as he was about to switch to another window, the SexyTarot logo appeared on his screen, and Charley’s sign-on signaled him that she was there. Early.
CHARLEY: Hi, EJB—are you ready? I know I’m a little early. My last appointment ended sooner than I thought.
EJB: No problems, I hope.
CHARLEY: None at all. How are you tonight?
EJB: Happy to be talking with you again. I’ve looked forward to this all day.
CHARLEY: Me, too.
EJ blinked—her direct response interested him. Was this the beginning of something new? His senses went on immediate alert.
EJB: Really?
CHARLEY: Yes. I was thinking about you…I mean, your cards, a lot today.
EJB: Why? Did something worry you?
CHARLEY: No, I was just moved by your last reading. There were some powerful moments, and I think we should explore what’s holding you back in life. In love.
EJB: Why do you think anything is holding me back?
CHARLEY: Look here at The Eight of Swords. What do you feel?
EJ looked as she provided an image of the card on the screen for them both to look at. A figure stood blindfolded, bound, encircled by swords.
EJB: I want to help her. She’s trapped, unhappy.
Charlotte sighed, staring at the screen. He was a rescuer. She loved men with strong protective instincts; they were the knights, the real romantics. The heroes. Not that she personally needed rescuing, of course.
CHARLEY: Perhaps it would be worth talking about what inhibits you—what you are holding back, and why.
EJB: Maybe it means I’d like to be tied up and blindfolded.
CHARLEY: (laughing) That’s always a possibility. Do you enjoy bondage?
EJB: I might, with the right person. I’m usually willing to try anything, once.
CHARLEY: I can see that—like we talked about last time, you’re a very sensual man. You crave it—but you also want more. Something deeper, more meaningful. Does that sound right?
She was way off, but he wasn’t about to let her know that. He was happy with his love life just the way it was, but he supposed she had a script of things she said to people to elicit certain responses. He was willing to play along.
EJB: I don’t know. I enjoy women. I don’t want to be tied down, but sometimes…
CHARLEY: Sometimes what?
EJB: I don’t know. I date a lot, and I love a woman in my bed, but sometimes there is something missing. Sharing. Warmth, I guess.
He watched the words he’d typed pop up on the screen, almost without him thinking about it, and he stopped typing, sitting back, blinking. It was happening again. With almost no effort, she managed to get him to tell her private thoughts, things he barely admitted to himself.
CHARLEY: So you are a romantic at heart. I felt that. You have an active sex life; your body is being engaged, but not your heart.
EJB: Do you enjoy romance, Charley?
CHARLEY: I think all women do.
EJB: I want to know about you.
CHARLEY: Let’s draw another card for you first. See what’s coming your way in terms of romance, of something deeper than one-night stands.
EJ waited a beat as she expertly deflected the attention from herself; maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.
He saw another image pop up on the screen. The card didn’t have any images on it, but displayed a group of sticks—what he knew now was the tarot suit of Wands—flying through the air, the Roman numeral VIII printed clearly at the top.
CHARLEY: Eight of Wands—fire, movement and change. This seems like a favorable indication of new opportunities coming your way, but there’s some question about how well things will go, or if you are ready for what’s about to happen.
EJB: You get all that from looking at one card with sticks flying through the air?
CHARLEY: (laughing) Well, I’ve talked with you a few times now, so I’m detecting patterns. And it’s not all about the image itself. It’s the suit, the number, the element the suit represents. In this case, fire. Swords, in your previous card, represent air—your intellectual side, your thoughts, the mind. So the issues are between mind and heart, rationality and desire.
Looking at it elementally, fire is fed by air—so your thoughts, what’s going in inside your mind, are feeding these pas
sions you feel, maybe in some form of dreams or wishes, but they’re also holding you back, as the Eight of Swords indicated. You’re being careful. Guarded. The question is why? What are you worried about?
The fact that both cards are eights is also important—numbers have lots of various interpretations, but in Chinese mythology this number is very auspicious, suggesting a time of growth and change, new beginnings. So I think you have a lot to look forward to, though it doesn’t hurt to be careful. When we want something bad enough, we can be blind to the consequences.
EJ sat back, watching her analysis roll out on the screen, fascinated in spite of himself, and then quickly got a grip. This was the danger, that she could figure out what he needed to hear—that was the hook. And she was very good—however she arrived at her conclusions, or maybe it was in the delivery, she made him want to believe.
EJ decided the moment was right to push things a little further.
EJB: It feels good to talk with someone who understands. Who can see the things I need, what’s inside.
CHARLEY: We all need that.
EJB: True, but I feel like we have a…connection. You have somehow managed to see things about me that even my closest friends don’t know.
Charlotte sat back, looking warily at the words EJB typed in, unsure how to respond. It seemed like he was reading her mind, mirroring her thoughts. She’d been purposely trying to keep things less sexual tonight, concentrating on his deeper needs, his emotional situation, but even so, she still had this in credible feeling of electricity just talking to him. And apparently he felt it, too.
She knew it was breaking her own set of professional rules, but she followed her heart.
CHARLEY: I know. I’ve felt it, too. But it’s not right for me to get personally involved with a client…
EJB: How could this not be personal? Everything we’ve shared has been personal. Intimate.
CHARLEY: I’ve just never had this happen before. It’s very powerful.
Yeah, right. EJ rolled his eyes, ignoring his own increased heartbeat, telling himself it was just excitement at setting the trap while he tapped at the keys, playing out the conversation.
EJB: Me, either. But I feel like the change that the cards say is coming into my life is…you. Maybe the risk I’m supposed to take involves you.
CHARLEY: You really think so?
Charlotte’s heart beat furiously, and her palms were actually sweating. On some level she’d known this was going to happen—there had just been something about their previous conversation that suggested it—but still, she couldn’t believe it was really happening. It was so…romantic. She and this man she’d never met had a genuine, spiritual bond, and it was the most romantic thing she’d ever experienced. He wasn’t like other men who were condescending about her spirituality or her tarot reading, or who approached sex as if it were a sport. EJB was sensitive, expressive and open.
EJB: What do the cards say?
She picked up her deck, and shuffled carefully, holding the deck close by her heart, feeling the cool breeze from the window against her overly warm skin as she cut the deck and took the card from the top, flipping it over slowly, hoping…The Lovers.
3
CHARLOTTE’S HEART leapt as she looked down at the nude figures intertwined in a passionate embrace even though she knew the cards were not literal—seeing the Death card didn’t mean you were going to die, and seeing The Lovers didn’t necessarily mean you were going to become romantically involved. But it didn’t mean you weren’t, either. It all depended on free will, and what she decided to do at this very critical moment. She could walk away, or she could take a chance.
She clicked the image so it appeared on the screen for EJB to see, too, not typing a word.
EJB: That’s amazing.
CHARLEY: It can be about difficult situations, and making good choices. It’s not always about romance.
EJB: Maybe we should choose to make it about romance.
CHARLEY: (smiling) I was kind of hoping you’d say that.
She let out a happy little squeak after she’d typed the words, bopping up and down and nearly knocking the laptop from its perch on her thighs. She was excited as all get out. Could this really be happening to her?
Thoughts raced through her mind. What did EJB look like? What was his voice like? What color were his eyes? He had to be handsome, with the active sex life he’d mentioned. She thought about that for a second, and shrugged. So what if he was a bit of a playboy? If she was going to try to have a romance, it might as well be with a man who knew what he was doing.
She wondered what his real name was. She had seen his credit card payment, but it just said his last name—Beaumont—and the first two initials. She wanted to know his first name, so she could see how it felt moving past her lips for the very first time.
EJB: Can we set the tarot cards aside for a few minutes and get to know each other a little bit?
CHARLEY: Okay. I was just thinking I wanted to know what your real first name was.
EJB: (smiling) I guess that’s a good place to start. Actually, I usually go by my initials, EJ, since my dad, and my grandad, had the same first and middle names. But my full name is Ethan Jared Beaumont.
Charlotte pressed a hand to her heart, inhaling and then whispering the name on the breath she released. He even had a romantic name, for goodness sake. She said it over a few times, and then answered.
CHARLEY: May I call you Ethan?
EJB: I kind of prefer EJ, only because my dad was Ethan, and I’d rather hear my name than his off your beautiful lips. And I assume your real name is not Charley?
CHARLEY: No, but it’s a shortened form of my real name, Charlotte.
EJB: That’s beautiful—it’s incredibly sexy. I’ve never known a woman with that name. Until you.
Charlotte felt herself blush, and rolled her eyes at herself. Oh, my.
CHARLEY: Thank you. What else would you like to talk about? I asked about names, so I guess it’s your turn.
EJB: Personally, I’m wondering what you like in bed. What your favorite spot to be touched is, what makes you cry out.
CHARLEY: I haven’t had all that much experience finding out, I’m afraid to say. Does that bother you?
EJ scowled at the screen. What game was she playing now? He was supposed to be playing the dupe, letting himself appear to be reeled in, so he played along.
EJB: Are you saying you’re a virgin?
CHARLEY: (laughing) No, not quite. But it’s been a while. A long while.
EJB: Care to share why?
CHARLEY: Nothing earthshaking, just life. I had other priorities and, well, I don’t make a habit out of having casual sex.
EJB: That’s good to know. I can’t say I’ve been serious with anyone in a while, either, though I’m open to the idea. With the right person. It’s just that between running the family business and dealing with life, there hasn’t been time to find her.
He sat back in his chair, smiling. That should bait the hook nicely. If she hadn’t recognized his name already as part of one of Norfolk’s leading families, she at least knew he was successful in some sense.
CHARLEY: Work can be rewarding, but it’s hard to not let it take over your life and crowd out everything else.
EJB: True. I love my work, but I’m finding you to be quite the distraction. I was thinking about you all day at work today.
CHARLEY: You were? Why?
EJB: I guess it’s the things you shared with me. The intimacy between us. We may not have had sex—yet—but we talked about it, and you’ve gotten under my skin.
CHARLEY: EJ…I don’t know what to say.
EJB: Say you’ll meet me.
CHARLEY: That may not actually be possible.
EJB: Where do you live?
CHARLEY: Virginia.
EJB: Where in Virginia?
CHARLEY: On the coast. Norfolk.
EJB: Charley, fate is on our side.
CHARLEY: Why do you s
ay that?
EJB: I live in Norfolk, too.
Charlotte sat back, stunned. Was this possible? She’d heard a lot of stories about people meeting on the Internet, traveling incredible distances to be together, but ending up in the same city? She might not be so surprised in an enormous population like New York City, but for two people in Norfolk—the sheer magic of it floored her, and she had no idea what to say.
EJB: Charlotte. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you. This is a huge coincidence, I know, but it’s not all that uncommon these days. Maybe we’re just lucky. Maybe it’s fate. Are you okay?
CHARLEY: Not scared. Amazed.
EJ sighed—of course. Amazed because she believed she’d found yet another dupe to rob blind. He was surprised she hadn’t backed off when he ended up living in the same town, and wanted to meet. Maybe Ian was right and she was just the information gathering point for a larger operation, because he’d expected it would be safer for her to stay anonymous—unless she was angling for a bigger take.
Flirtation Page 3
