by Gun Brooke
Grey_bird: And you, then?
Sheridan swallowed hastily, then coughed. This situation was nerve-wracking, to say the least, and she was sure she wasn’t being very clever to make herself vulnerable to a faceless individual whom she’d met online. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. Images of women she’d met over the years flickered by, but one image was clearer than any of the others. Lark’s soft features, the heart-shaped face with the slightly upturned nose and her smooth complexion—they all fit so well with the words the woman on the other end wrote.
Sheri_star: I only know that I don’t want you to just disappear. It means something to me that you might be here when I log on. If you knew me, you’d know that I don’t say this casually. I really mean it. You’ve gotten under my skin, somehow.
Grey_bird: Oh, God. I never meant for this to happen, but you’ve touched me too. Perhaps we need to put a damper on things before it goes too far.
Sheri_star: What do you mean?
Grey_bird: You don’t know. You’re not the only one who struggles with guilt, ya know. I’m not exactly Snow White.
Sheri_star: Well, neither am I. Think I’m more the evil Queen.
Grey_bird: Sounds more interesting, if you ask me. *grin*
Sheridan smiled broadly.
Sheri_star: So if I serve you an apple, or something, then you’d take a bite?
Grey_bird: You bet. I’d feast on…the apple. *wink*
Losing her breath for a moment, Sheridan hurried to type.
Sheri_star: I think I might enjoy experiencing your feast. You sound voracious.
Grey_bird: What can I say? I love apples.
Sheri_star: Sounds delicious.
Grey_bird: This is getting out of hand, Sheri.
Sheri_star: I know.
Grey_bird: You have an unexpected effect on me.
Sheri_star: Tell me about it.
Grey_bird: You too?
Sheridan touched her right breast and wasn’t surprised to feel a hard nipple spear her palm, her body’s response to the increasingly sexy chat. Even if she couldn’t move her legs, she still had some feeling, and right now it was painfully obvious how aroused she could still become—and how wet.
Sheri_star: Yes. Me too.
Grey_bird: Too fast. Too soon. I have to go.
Sheridan flinched.
Sheri_star: No. Please.
Grey_bird: See you tomorrow. If you want.
Sheridan moaned and closed her eyes briefly. This couldn’t be happening. Hot and cold at the same time, depending on which body part she considered, Sheridan trembled as she typed.
Sheri_star: I look forward to it. Also, just so you know, Bird, you leave me in agony.
Grey_bird: I do?
Sheri_star: Yes. And you know it. Your reaction tells me that you’re in the same frame of mind.
Grey_bird: So that’s fair then.
Sheri_star: Tomorrow?
Grey_bird: Tomorrow.
Sheridan closed the chat window, before she made a fool of herself by begging Grey_bird to stay, to…do what? Sheridan was always careful online. She had engaged in occasional flirtation but had never been affected like this. It was as if Grey_bird could actually see her, and Sheridan’s hand on her breast only strengthened the feeling that Lark…Grey_bird, Sheridan corrected herself, more than a little annoyed.
She pushed the laptop over onto the nightstand and managed to wriggle into a comfortable position. Sleep eluded her at first, and she began to pull her boxers down a bit. She was tempted to touch herself, but didn’t dare after the illness. Her body felt completely alien, and she feared she would discover she was incapable of feeling anything, of ever being able to enjoy sex again. As long as she didn’t try, she could convince herself that she was fine, merely exercising abstinence for the time being. Until she was better, stronger and more self-confident.
Now, however, she reached the wetness that covered her engorged folds, and it was blatantly clear that this part still worked. Amazed at how drenched she was from just talking to Grey_bird, Sheridan pushed a fingertip against her clitoris, slipped, tried again, but it was impossible to establish the rhythm she normally required to be able to come. Frustrated, Sheridan knew she wouldn’t be able to grind her thighs together, another surefire way to push her toward orgasm.
“Fuck.” She sighed and pressed her palm firmly against her sex. She had been so close, and now she was rapidly cooling off, since both Grey_bird’s words and the image of Lark seemed very distant. Wincing at where her thoughts relentlessly wandered, Sheridan closed her eyes firmly and tried to will sleep to come. Deep down she knew it was a fruitless attempt.
Chapter Twelve
“I can only work between five and eight in the evening.”
Sheridan looked with tired and careful optimism at the tall man in front of her. “Sounds doable, Mr. Henderson. May I ask why?”
“I have five children under the age of eight, and my wife is pregnant again. This means she needs me at home.” Henderson nodded thoughtfully, as if he’d just stated a profound truth.
“So, I assume that you have your hands full?”
“Yes, I do. It’s exhausting to keep up with the kids.” Another nod.
Ever heard of condoms, man? “Which doesn’t sound good from my perspective. I need someone who isn’t more tired than I am.”
“I’m not tired, exactly.”
“No. Merely exhausted. I don’t think you’d be the right one for this position.”
“You won’t even give me a chance?”
Henderson scrunched up his face, and for a moment Sheridan feared he would actually burst into tears.
You really must be exhausted. “No, I’m sorry, but I need the position filled right away. I don’t have time for temporary or tryout solutions.”
“I came more than a hundred miles for this interview.” Henderson began to look annoyed, rather than weepy, which was better, but not entirely good.
“I’m sorry.”
“I need to be reimbursed for gas.”
Sheridan barely refrained from groaning. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or chew the guy off at the ankles. “I’m afraid that’s not company policy. You have to take that up with your agency.”
“Hey, you lure me to drive this far by dangling a coveted position in front of my nose—”
“Mr. Henderson.” Sheridan let her voice boom. “This interview is over.”
“But—”
“Thank you.” Sheridan wished she could have risen to her feet and met the man’s eyes at his level, but apparently her glare had a pretty good effect.
Henderson muttered what sounded like a curse and stomped out. A concerned Erica quickly appeared in his place.
“I heard shouting, ma’am. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. And Erica, you’ve worked here for almost ten years. Please call me Sheridan when we’re alone. I know you like to keep our relationship formal, but indulge me.” Sheridan had asked Erica to be on a first-name basis from day one, but the young woman adamantly reiterated that formalities were invented for a purpose.
Erica studied the floor for a few seconds before she met Sheridan’s eyes. “I’ve been stubborn, haven’t I? Actually, I’ve thought about it since Lark was on a first-name basis with you right away. So, why not?”
“Mark the calendar,” Sheridan muttered good-naturedly. “Perhaps I should have called in witnesses? Speaking of that, any more interviews? I mean, interviews not like this one.”
“Only one more this afternoon. You have a teleconference, then a meeting with two of your regional directors.”
“Which regions again?” Sheridan was suddenly irritated. Once she had known all these things, remembered a full week of appointments without a problem.
“San Francisco and Oregon.”
“Very well. Give me a copy of their reports half an hour before the meeting.”
“Already on your desk, ma’am—Sheridan.”
“You’ll get used to it
. I’m not always a dragon, you know.”
“I have never regarded you as a dragon.”
“What then?”
“A mule?” Erica winked and smiled broadly.
Sheridan had to laugh. The unexpected comment relaxed her, strangely enough, and she also enjoyed how her firm gaze always seemed to rattle Erica. This was the case now, when Sheridan deliberately drilled into her. “Mule, huh? Hm. You’re suddenly very bold. Perhaps it was a mistake to suggest a first-name basis.”
“Too late.” Erica grinned. “Now all bets are off.”
Sheridan shook her head as Erica left the room. She had never imagined that she had such a brazen personality. Then again, I keep everyone at arm’s length. Except Lark. With her, I— Sheridan broke off the unproductive thoughts and reached for her laptop. She switched on the teleconference software and browsed through the documents containing the information she needed to prepare. Beginning to read, she heard a small voice in the back of her mind continually insist that it would take much more effort than this to shove Lark out of her mind.
*
“Six thousand dollars?” Lark stared at the price tag on the painting that hung center stage in her parents’ gallery. “Wow, Fee, that’s not bad.”
“It’s not my most expensive artwork.” Fiona pointed toward a set of two paintings farther along the wall. “That combo is set at eight thousand dollars. But that’s two for the price of one, of course.” She wrinkled her nose and shrugged her shoulder.
“Sho’ me da money.” Lark grinned. “I couldn’t be happier for you. And for the buyers of your art. I read that art magazine of yours when I couldn’t sleep last night, and you were mentioned among the year’s groundbreaking artists.”
“You couldn’t sleep?” Fiona ignored the comment about her own success.
“Yeah. I was thinking. All sorts of thoughts tangoed in my head.”
“Tell me.”
Lark looked around the gallery. A dozen customers wandered among the paintings. “Not here. I don’t want to broadcast my inner feelings to half of Boerne.”
“I understand. If Mr. Bloomberg down at the grocery store finds out anything, all of Boerne knows it within seconds. He’s like a switchboard on legs.”
“Remember when he caught onto who Callie was seeing when she was barely eighteen?”
“Oh, yeah. Exciting times,” Fiona said gleefully. “At least until Mom and Dad found out, probably last of all, that Rick Ferris had spent more than one night in our garage.”
“I don’t think anyone else in Boerne has been grounded that long. Relentlessly.”
“She couldn’t even call her friends. She had to rely on her beloved sisters to tell her what was happening around here.”
“And since she was Callie, Ms. Good and Proper, that must’ve sucked.” Fiona laughed and Lark joined her. It was impossible not to when Fiona’s laughter was so incredibly catchy. “But when Rick substituted another girl for her, Mom and Dad—especially Dad—comforted her. She was still grounded though!”
“Poor Callie. She thought she’d never get over him, and then she met Burke.”
“We’re all happy she met Burke. I can’t imagine her with anybody else.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Lark motioned with her head toward the door. “How about some coffee? I saw some of Mom’s brownies in the kitchen.”
“No coffee for me. Reached my limit of six cups already. The doctor will have my head on a platter if I’m naughty.”
“Okay. I’ll make us some hot chocolate if you want.”
Fiona nodded eagerly. “Yes, please. Mom has the air-conditioning on so high that it feels like December.”
Lark walked behind Fiona into the kitchen and began to heat some milk.
“So, are you going to share with me why you couldn’t sleep? I mean, what you were thinking about?” Fiona parked her chair in her customary spot by the short end of the table.
“You have to keep it to yourself,” Lark said, looking at Fiona over her shoulder. “I won’t tell you any patient-PT confidential stuff, but still...it’s important.”
“You know I’m no gossip.”
“Yeah, I do.” Lark kept her attention on the milk simmering in the pot. “I had this dream that my patient fired me and regretted it immensely. It felt so real. And when I woke up, you know, with a jerk in the middle of the night, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was in trouble.”
“Medically, or—?”
“Well, that too. But also because…and here’s the deal. You may lose all respect for me when I tell you this, but I’m chatting with her.”
“What? You mean online?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would she want to chat with you if she fired you? That doesn’t make sense…” Fiona sounded baffled, but then her tone changed. “Oh, no. Lark.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t know it’s me. She only knows me as Grey_bird online.”
“You realize if she puts her mind to it, she can find out who Grey_bird is?”
Lark shuddered. “I do, but I suppose I’m in denial about that possibility.” Lark proceeded to tell Fiona about her initial motives for going against every one of her principles.
“And now things have changed?”
“Yes.” Lark pulled the pot off the stove and poured it onto the cocoa-and-sugar mix. She stirred longer than necessary, stalling, before she turned around and handed Fiona her mug. “It’s hot.”
“The way you chat with her?” Fiona asked.
“The chocolate’s hot, genius.” Lark shook her head. “No, well, yes, in a way, that’s what’s happened. There’s a new tone, an element of attraction when we chat, even if we’re dancing on burning twigs, sort of. She asked me some pretty interesting questions last night, and even if she was merely flirting—”
“What did she say?”
“She was being silly, you know, double entendres, that sort of thing. Then she said, between the lines, so to speak, that she regretted firing a person, but she didn’t say what the person she fired did wrong or anything like that.”
“So,” Fiona said slowly, “she enjoys the privacy of a faceless chat, where she can pretend to be well and able to do anything. Can’t say I don’t find such a thing tempting, but I’d never do it. At the end of the day it would hurt more than it gave pleasure. I’d always know that it was make-believe, even more so, I think, than a healthy person.”
“I understand what you’re saying, Fee. I do. But my deception is worse than hers. She’s living a dream, in a way, and who could blame her? I’m deceiving her in a much more callous way. I’m lying for completely different reasons.”
“Your intentions were good. And here’s the breaking news, Lark. You’re not infallible. You make mistakes out of the goodness of your heart, like the rest of us.”
“It’s not like I’ve pulled off anything like this before.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll call it quits next time I see her online.”
Fiona frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to tell her we can’t chat anymore.” Lark stared down into her mug and twirled the spoon between her fingers.
“Are you going to tell her who you really are?”
“Eh, no. I don’t want to cause her that type of grief.”
“Lark.”
“Yes?”
“You’re being a chicken, which is not like you.” Fiona placed her hand on Lark’s. “I think you should go to her. Tell her everything face-to-face.”
Lark shuddered again. “Oh, God, Fee. That takes more courage than I can scare up. You don’t know her. She may be physically challenged and use a wheelchair, but she can chop your head off with one word.”
“Your head? What on earth did you do that made her that angry?”
“You tell me. I’m not quite sure myself.” Lark rubbed her forehead. “I was pushing her to stick to a certain schedule, and when she wouldn’t make the effort to even be on time, if she showed up a
t all, I got a little pesky.”
“Pesky? You?”
“Yeah. I suppose.”
“That’s even more enlightening,” Fiona said, her smile frustratingly all-knowing. “So you challenged her, demanded too much of her time, in her opinion, and there was no doubt an attraction was going on already.” She placed her right hand under her chin and mimicked stroking a goatee. “I see, I see, dear child.”
“Very funny, Fiona.”
Fiona’s laughter was not without kindness. “Oh, Lark, welcome to us humans. All the years you lived at home, we went to you when we needed to ’fess up or confide a deep dark secret. Now it’s you who needs support. It’s all right, sis. I promise. We’ll figure something out.”
Fiona’s last statement brought tears to Lark’s eyes, but she refused to let them run down her cheeks. She didn’t do well crying in front of anyone. She even kept away from mirrors and other reflections if she was overwhelmed with tears.
“Fee,” she murmured and reached for a paper towel. She blew her nose and coughed a few times for good measure. “The cedars,” she wheezed and nodded toward the window. “They bother me every year.”
“I know. Me too. But the cedar pollen isn’t very high now.”
Lark glared at Fiona, but had to smile at the same time at the sparkling light in her eyes. Focusing on someone other than herself had obviously been good for her sister. Lark couldn’t detect any trace of the haunted expression that had been written across Fiona’s eyes the day before. “So what do you suggest I do?”
“Go to her. Don’t tell her in a chat session. Tell her in person. What do you have to lose?”
“My license to practice?”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, do you?”
