Evading his eyes, she shook her head. “I wish I knew where it went. After you mentioned the phone was missing, I searched the house, even under the beds, and between the couch and chair cushions, in case Larry might have dropped it in any of those places. It still hasn’t turned up. I would have told you if I’d seen it.”
Did he suspect she was lying?
Roman frowned. “That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d found it and forgotten to tell me. Well, all right then, we better get back to work. Let’s hope it turns up somehow.”
Mixed feelings of guilt and righteousness made it hard to concentrate on her duties the rest of the afternoon. Dorrie sighed with relief as she stepped from the Institute into the bright June sunlight. The hundred plus Arizona temperature coupled with nervous guilt proved especially stifling. At times like this, she longed for a magical transport to the cooler clime of her native town of Tomahawk, Wisconsin. Since that was impossible for now, the artificial coolness of the air conditioner in the Hyundai would have to suffice. Maybe someday she’d revisit Tomahawk or even live there again, but for now her agreement with Roman obstructed her from doing so.
Stepping into her hallway from the garage entrance, she thought again about downsizing if the market picked up. The large empty house seemed doubly lonely with only one person to fill it.
Dorrie reached into the refrigerator for the pitcher of ice tea and poured a heaping helping into a tall frosted class, before retreating to the wrought iron chair on the patio near the rose bush. Swallowing the cool, unadulterated beverage, she enjoyed its bittersweet taste. A breeze stirred, offering a brief respite from the heat. The relief did little to dispel the wave of homesickness hitting her, not so much for a place, but for the way things used to be.
Fiddling with the condensation on the outside of her glass, she realized she may have turned back her body’s clock, but could never turn back time gone. She’d carved a new life for herself, offering bursts of happiness, yet still couldn’t shake off thoughts of what might have been.
Roman’s mention of the iPhone might have something to do with such morbid thoughts. The phone still sat in her safety deposit box, except for the times when she brought it to the café near the bank to charge the battery while she ate. One of these days she’d get up enough courage to actually open the picture and music apps, but couldn’t handle the hurt yet.
Dorrie set the glass down on the matching table beside the bench, and closed her eyes. Before packing, she’d try to think good thoughts and relax. She had much to be thankful for and shouldn’t live in the past.
Easier said than done, with her thoughts instead drifting to the conversation with Kelly about the near impossibility of falling in love again. The idea seemed utterly foreign. No one could replace Larry. Sure, she enjoyed the sight of her hunky, sexy boss, but more in the context of gazing at a work of art than anything else. She had no real feelings for him, except admiration at his brilliance.
Though she and Larry had enjoyed an active and satisfying sex life, that had been a side benefit. Love and commitment had always been the bond that kept them together.
When they’d moved out here, she’d envisioned barbeques and patio parties with friends, but the two of them had been so busy settling into their jobs they’d not had many opportunities to mingle with the neighbors. Her life had been full anyway, since all she’d needed was Larry.
Now she felt lost and alone, almost as if their marriage hadn’t happened. Some women would say get over it and be happy she hadn’t a man to account to, but after so many years of being part of a couple, she couldn’t grasp the single concept.
In this state of mind, she sure couldn’t rest. Sighing, Dorrie got up and reached for the half-finished glass of iced tea. Some might call it half full, others half empty, kind of like life. It would be her call what she made of it. Time to pack for Hollywood.
***
The publicity machine in California rolled steadily along. Accompanied by his wide-eyed secretary, Roman swept through the Sunshine State, making early morning guest appearances at radio and television stations, as well as at shopping malls.
After that, he employed the overused gimmick of standing atop Mt. Lee beside the decades old, thirty foot wide and fifty foot tall letters of the Hollywood sign. Because of the height danger, he didn’t include Dorrie in the shoot.
When he met her later for further shots at the bottom of the mountain, that unaccustomed feeling of warmth again stole over him, making him frown. She already meant more to him than she should. What he did possess of a conscience chided him at thought of the pleasant, yet unpleasant task awaiting him.
From all indications, Dorrie wouldn’t welcome sex for a long time. Unfortunately, waiting for her libido to catch up was not an option. The iPhone must be accounted for.
His bikini clad assistant prancing in the ninety-degree heat spiraled his desire. By four o’clock, they were done shooting. Plenty of time to accomplish his mission.
“Let’s get back to the hotel,” he told his now modestly clad assistant.
As he held Dorrie’s elbow to help her into the limousine, her soft skin begged to be explored. He knew part, but not all, of what lay beneath the proper peach suit and creamy silk blouse.
Once inside, they sat on the cool leather seats across from each other. Her warm doe-colored eyes stared back at him innocently, making his guilt, along with a certain portion of his anatomy, rise. Maybe if he asked her again, she’d come up with the iPhone, and he’d summon enough willpower to resist his plan. “No luck on finding that iPhone, Dorrie?”
She blinked and shook her head. “No, sorry.”
Did guilt flicker in her eyes? A remote check while she’d been at work had verified she’d spoken the truth about her own computer not being networked to the Institute. Still, something about her tone whenever he mentioned the iPhone didn’t ring true. One thing for sure, if she did have it, she couldn’t know its contents or she’d never have agreed to take the pill, much less hawk it.
Unfortunately, given the high stakes involved, the issue could not be ignored. Even if its battery had run down, the phone could be revived and transmit items best not divulged.
He snuck another glance at her. Dorrie looked more like a youngster playing dress-up than an actual threat. He could bet his life she’d kept the iPhone to remind her of her husband, yet such a sad scenario could not dissuade him from what he was about to do.
They drew up to the hotel. He smiled disarmingly. “What say we take the rest of the day off and cool down.”
The sweetness of her smile yanked his fever up a notch. Regret warred with longing. Soon his need would be assuaged, for better or worse.
He headed to his hotel suite. Once there, he disrobed and pulled on his swimming trunks. In the hallway, on the way to the elevator, he absently smiled at a group of notebook-carrying individuals who appeared to be on their way to a conference.
On the first floor, an unmistakable chlorine smell wafted through the air, guiding him to the rectangular fifty foot pool, complete with diving boards and signs prohibiting children from entering. The semi-dim lighting reflected off the lime colored brick walls. A gentle lapping from the purification system whispered peacefulness and serenity, emotions sorely lacking in Roman’s makeup.
He dove in. As coolness hit his still sweltering skin, he gasped with pleasure. Treading the water, he prolonged the sensation of muscles and mind relaxing. After a few laps, he felt at peace and ready to handle the situation. Everything would work out. The iPhone would be found. The exchanges would be made. The incident would be closed, with or without Dorrie’s consent. He dove in again, then re-emerged.
Maybe it was a small sound or perhaps the subtle hint of her perfume that made him sense her presence even before he spied her standing at the water’s edge wearing the scraps of buttercup colored material. Her full breasts swelled, her tiny waist dipped, her legs stretched long and lean, glowing a golden brown—a body meant to be loved.
<
br /> She appeared unaware of his presence, as she glanced in every direction but his. His member hardened, making him grateful for the water’s concealment. Ethics evaporated, replaced by lust.
Her body arced gracefully on the diving board. With a soft splash, she descended into the water, only to reappear seconds later with face, hair and shoulders wet. Droplets of water highlighted a flawless complexion, without need of artificial enhancement.
Mesmerized, he swam to her.
“Oh, hi, Roman, I didn’t see you.”
Her words seemed innocuous enough, but the breathlessness of her voice and her throat’s quickened pulse gave her away. Did his well maintained physique disturb her? He hoped so.
The ritual began. He splashed water into her face. She laughed in surprise, then mischievously splashed back. Caught in the game, she lost her balance. He reached for her waist and held on longer than necessary, watching her eyes widen and darken. They swam alongside each other, faster and faster. She dove. He followed closely.
Spent and out of breath, they gazed at each other. Her eyes lingered on his well-defined abs. She obviously liked what she saw. Taking advantage of her distraction, he focused on her well endowed breasts almost completely visible in the tiny bikini. Hell, he was only a man.
“Thirsty? Care to join me at the bar?”
A hesitant look crossed her face. “I don’t know. I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Come on. One little drink won’t hurt, maybe something tasty like Kahlua and cream. You like coffee, don’t you?”
“More than I should,” she said, flashing him a guilty look.
He could bet her mind wasn’t on coffee, but on morals and mourning. He’d get around that. He held her by the elbow as they climbed out of the water, and valiantly resisted the urge to towel her down. Instead, he thrust his own towel around his waist to hide evidence of his arousal.
“Meet you in half an hour,” he said, darting toward the elevator.
A cool shower erased the smell of chlorine. After towel drying his hair, he slipped into a teal rayon shirt, gabardine trousers and leather sandals. He nodded with approval at his angelic appearance before reaching into his toiletries bag for a small item.
***
Dorrie smiled in anticipation as she carefully tied the spaghetti straps on the shoulders of her linen maize shift. She’d chosen the happy color of yellow as a theme for her free time, and the mood seemed to be rubbing off on her. She saw no harm in enjoying a drink with a handsome man, even if he happened to be her boss. She wouldn’t go any further with drinking or him.
Maybe in time she could bring herself to make love with someone she cared about. The need for sex still existed, but she’d ignore it until the right time, that is, if there’d ever be one. The thought of doing something so intimate with anyone else than Larry made her uneasy.
She reached onto the end table to grab her purse, but it slipped, scattering its contents all over the floor. She reached down to scoop everything up. Served her right for thinking about sex. She’d enjoyed a once-in-a-lifetime experience with Larry. It should be enough. Many women were not as blessed.
For now, she’d forget her empty sex life and live the Hollywood dream. She’d pretend she and Roman were an item. She’d exchange small talk with him, laugh, and have a good time. She deserved a little fun. That settled, she headed down the hall to the bar.
He stood up as she entered the room. His eyes seemed to caress her as she slipped onto the bar stool next to him. He was certainly a hunk, but she would not waiver from her plan: one drink, be friendly, but firm.
“Here you are,” he said, with a strange flicker in his eyes as he handed her a rock glass.
“Thank you. This looks good.” She took a small swallow. The liquid tasted almost like coffee, but with a bitter twist.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s different. Actually, quite good.”
Roman looked good, too; in fact, too good. He slid his hand to her shoulder. It tingled and came alive. She should object, but that would spoil the game.
For some reason, the room seemed awfully warm. Something must be wrong with the air conditioning. Perspiration beaded her lip. Trying not to appear gauche, she surreptitiously swiped it off with the napkin, then reached for the glass to take another swallow. The drink tasted unusual, but nice and cool. She’d stop after this one and drink some fizzy pop to cool down.
He moved his stool closer and tightened his arm around her. It seemed forever since she’d felt a man’s touch. Until now, she’d had no idea how much she’d craved it. Suddenly she wanted more. Larry was gone and Roman was here. Her throat went dry. She reached again for the glass, took a huge gulp, then pressed closer.
His palm moved onto her thigh. She cupped her hand over it and looked up into his face. Did he share the same overwhelming urge? Its strength made her dizzy.
The mysterious look in his angel eyes answered the question. He knew exactly what ran through her mind, and felt it too. He wanted her. Waves of longing swept over her. She downed the remainder of her drink.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said in a voice thick with desire.
Swaying, she stumbled up. The room moved and blurred. The knowing face of the bartender flashed in and out of her consciousness, but he didn’t matter.
“Here, don’t forget your purse,” Roman said, picking it up from the bar and handing it to her.
The touch of his fingers sent waves of desire crashing through her. She hungered for his touch, the sooner the better. Almost moaning in frustration, she quickened her steps. Her legs felt so clunky she could barely move them up and down, as if she were sleep-walking in a vat of glue.
Finally they reached his room. He gathered her in his arms, carried her over the threshold and kicked the door closed, as if they were a newly married couple.
He deposited her on the bed. She lay helpless, a quivering mass of need.
“Please,” she begged.
He tore off his clothes, making her desire soar. His hard body covered hers. He tore at the spaghetti straps, pulled the top of her dress down, and teased her with his touch. Her heart sped. The room spun. Waves of desire coursed through her. She pulled up the bottom of her dress. He reached down and ever so carefully removed her silk panties, then even more carefully entered her.
She climbed to the stars, and higher, so high she thought she’d die. Panting, he followed her. She was riding to heaven with the Angel Man. The stars burst brighter and brighter.
He shuddered inside of her. Warm liquid flowed in and around her, sending fresh spirals of desire coursing through her veins. It happened again. She moaned and pressed, clinging tight.
Again they rode to the stars. Again, she reached the cliff then fell off it, so far she almost died from the descent. Shuddering, she lay beneath him. He brushed the hair from her eyes. It didn’t help. He still looked fuzzy.
“Do you want more?”
She nodded as desire welled up as strong as before. She’d do anything to have him again.
“Yes, please.” Her quivering fingers reached for him.
He backed away. “Then tell me about the iPhone. Remember, the one your husband used. What did you do with it? Where did you put it?”
How could that matter at a time like this? His questions droned on and on, so fast she couldn’t think. The room spun and blurred. Lights flashed. She felt as if she were riding a merry-go-round, only scarier. She opened her mouth, but her tongue felt too thick to get the words out. What was going on?
“Think, Dorrie. Where is it?”
“It’s in the...” She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move.
The room whirled and heaved, then darkened.
***
Dorrie’s head pounded. Groaning, she struggled to rise from bed, then sank back down. Where was she? What day was it?
Squinting, she tried to get her bearings. Sunlight peeked through the corners of the bamboo patterned drapes of the hotel room. St
range she didn’t remember getting here or going to bed. What else didn’t she remember? Had she gotten drunk last night and done something crazy? No, she couldn’t have. She knew her limits.
She glanced down at herself, and sighed with relief. Though her pretty maize dress with the tiny shoulder straps looked sleep worn and wrinkled, at least it still covered her, thank God. How embarrassing she couldn’t handle even one drink. Maybe the young pill had something to do it. Whatever the cause, Roman must think her a ninny. Had he helped her back to her room? Had he laid her on the bed? Thinking of her helplessness felt disturbing and arousing.
Bits and pieces of an embarrassingly erotic dream flashed through her mind, with images so vivid she wondered if she could face Roman without blushing. Getting drunk sure had a strange effect on her.
The alarm clock rang, setting off fresh waves of pain in her temples. She groped on the nightstand to silence it. Somehow she had to get ready for the airport.
Vowing never to drink another drink in her life, she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed. A fresh wave of dizziness hit. Maybe an aspirin would help. Those were safe to take with the pill. She reached into her purse and felt the smartphone, which reminded her of Larry’s iPhone. Life would have been simpler if she’d told Roman the truth at the beginning.
Thoughts of her deceit set her temples throbbing harder. That would teach her to play dumb. Now she was past the point of no return. If Roman learned she’d lied more than once, he might even take the pill from her. What would she do without it?
She wasn’t much of an analyst, but she had a feeling her dream held a subliminal message warning her to be honest. Funny, how life intruded and got jumbled up in the subconscious. Also funny, how inhibitions disappeared in the make-believe world and seemed so real. It wasn’t as if she’d consider having sex with anyone anytime soon. Larry had been a good man and still lived in her heart.
Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Page 7
