by Gemma Bruce
“Couldn’t.” Andy stifled another yawn. “Sorry. I went to Katherine’s meditation group.”
“You’re kidding,” said Jeannie. “That’s harder to get in than the Cotton Bowl. How’d you manage it?”
“I didn’t. She asked me.”
“Well,” Jeannie said and began buttering a piece of toast.
“That’s such an honor,” said Loubelle. “I’d like to do more meditation, but I just can’t sit with my legs crossed like that and still be able to get up at the end. And I refuse to sit in a chair like an old granny. Even though I am an old granny, thank you ma’am.”
“I take yoga and meditation twice a week in Boston,” said Evelyn. “I find it centers my mind and concentrates my energy. I get twice as much done on those days as on the others. Very beneficial.”
“I’m afraid it only made me sleepy,” said Andy. “I just feel like going back to bed and staying there all day.”
“That’s because you’re just beginning. You’ll get used to it in no time.”
The last time someone said that to her, she’d been stuck with those Coke-bottle prop glasses.
This time she couldn’t keep back her yawn. “I guess.”
“I swear,” said Jeannie. “I never saw a man who could stay so sulky for so long. I’d like to take him over my knee and paddle him good.”
Dillon walked toward them, a death grip on his water pitcher. Andy concentrated on cutting her omelet. He filled the glasses and walked away.
“I don’t think I’ve heard him say two words in the last two days. And I know for sure that he hasn’t smiled. You sure there’s nothing wrong?” Jeannie craned her neck, trying to see Andy’s face.
Andy pushed a bite of toast into her mouth. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said when she’d finished chewing.
“Then he’s been getting up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe you should take pity on him and let him get up on your side.”
Andy’s eyes flew up. “We’re not, um”—but they had— “sleeping together.”
Jeannie nodded wisely. “That explains it. He’s probably depressed.”
Depressed, thought Andy. Right. “Depressed,” she said. Too bad for him. If anyone had reason to be depressed—She paused. She wasn’t depressed. And she wouldn’t give Dillon the satisfaction of seeing her moping over him.
She straightened up and put on a smile for the next time he came to the table.
But Dillon didn’t return, and Evelyn had to ask Louis to bring them more coffee.
When breakfast was over, Andy found herself heading for the morning session. Which was odd since she’d meant to eat and go back to bed. She glanced at the sign on the door. LEARNING FROM OUR FAILURES AND TURNING THEM TO SUCCESS. Now, there was a class that had her name on it. She went inside.
Carmen’s eyes widened for an instant when she saw Ariadne. Then she broke into a smile. “Welcome. Glad you could make it.”
Andy looked around, then realized Carmen was talking to her. When had they gotten so chummy? She took a seat on the couch in the first row. Her legs were too tired to carry her any farther. Maybe she was getting the flu. Picked up a microbe swimming in the lake. Swimming in the lake with Dillon. Dillon lying naked on the rock, rock-hard and waiting for her. Andy shoved the image away, forced her attention to Carmen.
“Today we’re going to discuss how we let ourselves fail, sometimes even encourage ourselves to fail. Failure is a part of a whole life. But only if we can turn it into success. “Who would like to share first?”
The woman next to Andy raised her hand. She didn’t look as though she’d ever experienced failure in her life. She was immaculately dressed, perfectly made up, thin and pretty.
The woman, whose name was Mindy, told about her childhood with a domineering mother and how, in trying hard not to be like her, she’d become a doormat for her first husband. There was some discussion about how to find happy mediums while satisfying a person’s own needs.
Andy’s mind drifted to thoughts about Dillon.
“I just broke up with my live-in boyfriend,” said a reedy voice from the back. There were murmurs of sympathy. “He said I was too bland. I bought new clothes and dyed my hair. I even bought a book on the Kama Sutra. Then he said he didn’t know what was happening to me. He liked me the way I used to be. And now I’m totally confused.”
“It can be confusing,” said Carmen sympathetically.
“I’ve been in the same kind of situation. It’s so demoralizing.”
“Why should we change ourselves because of someone else?”
“Every time I try to change . . .”
It seemed everyone had a similar experience.
The discussion went on and on. Andy sat zombielike through the tales of failures. Each person had a more depressing story than the one before.
“So I think we see that it’s as much our responsibility as the other person’s when we don’t live up to our own expectations of ourselves,” said Carmen. “It’s hard enough to change our own bad habits. But how do you change somebody else’s habits?”
“By not reinforcing their behavior,” said someone.
“By cutting off the sucker’s dick,” whispered another. There was an appreciative burst of laughter.
When the laughter died down, Carmen said, “Anyone else have something to share?”
“I have terrible luck with men,” said Andy.
Chapter 16
She’d spilled her guts. Just like all the others. She’d said things she’d never even thought before. At least not that she admitted. She’d answered one little question just to be polite and ended up telling them her life story. Once she started talking, she couldn’t stop.
As soon as Carmen dismissed the class, Andy grabbed her bag and fled for the door. She’d never be able to face any of them again.
“Ariadne, wait up.” Carmen hurried after her, her curly hair bouncing as she ran.
Andy stopped, resigned.
“That was awesome. You really made a breakthrough today. I’m so proud of you.”
Andy looked down at her. She was proud of her? For telling complete strangers about men she hardly even remembered. It was like some pitiful girl had gotten into her body and was using her to whine about her disastrous love life—or lack of love life. This was just too weird.
She pulled some kind of smile from someplace, said weakly, “Thanks, gotta go.”
Carmen came with her. “I would never have guessed that you’d had those experiences. No wonder—” She broke off, glancing at Andy’s clothes. “Just wait until Dr. Bliss hears about this. She’ll be so pleased. She really wanted you to make a breakthrough. A challenge and you’ve made the first step. It’s so great.”
Andy stood there horrified. “You’re not going to tell anybody?”
Carmen blinked, dipped her eyebrows. “Of course I am. It’s wonderful. I’m just so glad I was able to expedite it for you.”
“Expedite,” repeated Andy, a little dazed. More likely Carmen would use Andy’s lapse from sanity to one-up Jane. God. They might even start fighting over her. Why, oh, why had she ever let her family talk her into pretending to be a lonely spinster? Why had she fallen under some evil spell and “shared” her experiences? At least she’d managed not to mention her profession or Dillon. That was some consolation. She guessed.
Maybe she should just pack her bags and leave before things got worse.
She stopped, her breath arrested on an intake of air. Was that what happened to Mac? Had she seen her life through the eyes of others and hated what she saw?
Andy shook her head.
“What?” asked Carmen.
“N-nothing.” Mac’s life was great. Successful. Well respected by her fellow stuntmen. Had lovers who adored her. Had married one of them. Of course, he had died of a heart attack years ago. And Mac had never remarried.
“Aren’t you happy about this?” Carmen was looking a little crestfallen, and automatically, Andy reached out and patted her arm. “Yes, thr
illed.”
Carmen’s face lit up again. “Well, I’ve got to get to my meeting, but this is just great—just great.” She hit the stairs running, anxious to share her news with the rest of the staff.
Andy headed for the front door, praying that she wouldn’t run into anyone who’d witnessed her debacle. Had she really used the expression “soul mate”? She’d obviously gone stark, staring ravers.
She’d almost reached the door when it opened. She recognized Dillon before he even stepped inside.
She spun around and raced up the stairs. She didn’t slow down until she turned the corner to the Authorized Personnel hallway. Carmen and Dr. Bliss were standing outside the staff room door.
Andy skidded to a stop. Turned again. Heard footsteps coming up the stairs. It had to be Dillon. She was trapped between two equally humiliating positions. She grabbed the knob of the nearest door and threw herself inside, closing the door behind her.
She stood there, heart pounding, panting for breath. She was an idiot. A basket case. How had her life gotten so out of control? Maybe, he would pass right by. She pressed her ear to the door. Heard nothing. Slowly she began to relax. Saved by the—She had no idea where she was. A broom closet maybe.
It was totally dark where she was standing, but slowly she became aware of light behind her. She looked over her shoulder, turned all the way around. The center of the room was spotlighted like an operating arena. There was a bed with stirrups. And a woman on the bed. And a doctor sitting between her feet.
Not a doctor. Bernard Bliss.
Oh, no.
The woman moaned, thrashed from side to side, her dark sheen of hair flying about her face.
Bliss looked toward the door; his mouth opened. He quickly stood up and stepped between Andy and the bed, blocking her view. But not before Andy recognized his blissful patient.
“Are you here for the Eternal Orgasm—”
Andy cut him off. “No. Sorry. Don’t have the time.” She fumbled for the doorknob. Tore it open and ran straight into the arms of Dillon Cross.
Take two. When were they going to get this right? She pushed him away and managed to close the door before he grabbed her arms and forced them to her sides.
She tried to twist away. “Let me go.”
“Not a chance. Stop struggling,” he hissed. “Dr. Bliss will think we’re not getting along. Here she comes now.” His body softened abruptly.
“No!” whispered Andy. “Her husband is in there.” She jerked her head toward the Eternal Orgasm room. “With Katherine Dane.”
“Shit.” Dillon let her go and she staggered backward.
“Ah. Hello, Dr. Bliss. Poor Ariadne just tripped. Ever since she broke her glasses, she can’t see a thing. Lucky that I was here to catch her, wasn’t it, Ariadne?”
He took her by the arm, hard enough to leave finger marks. “Are you all right, now?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said through gritted teeth. He wasn’t going to do anything to help. His eyes were sparkling. He was enjoying this. She turned to Dr. Bliss. Tried for a smile. Her mouth was dry, her lips stuck to her teeth.
“Don’t you have an extra pair?” Dr. Bliss smiled benevolently at Andy and then at Dillon as if they were her two favorite children.
She was the essential earth mother, tall and graceful in a light blue caftan. She was lovely, intelligent, and compassionate. She looked as if she were in love with the world.
And her husband was just behind the door, giving an eternal orgasm to her business manager. Did she know? Andy eased away from the door, praying that Katherine Dane wouldn’t cry out in ecstasy while they were standing there.
Dillon nudged her with his elbow.
“What? Oh, the glasses. No. Just my sunglasses. But they’re not for indoors.” She glared at Dillon, who just stood there with a phony smile on his face. She stepped toward the doctor.
Dr. Bliss stepped backward. “Is something wrong, Ariadne?”
“No. I’m having a wonderful time.” She took another step toward the doctor. Dr. Bliss stepped back. Dillon bit his lip.
“It’s all so inspirational.” She took another step, slowly pushing Dr. Bliss up the hallway.
“I’m so glad.”
Andy could feel Dillon vibrating next to her. He was laughing, the cold son of a bitch. And it wasn’t funny. It was tragic. “Yes, it’s just great.” Step. “The best.” Another step.
They were several feet away from the orgasm room by now. Dillon had come along, sticking to her side, but doing nothing to help.
“Well, it was lovely talking to you.” She needed to be away from the doctor, away from Dillon, away from that stupid orgasm room.
“I’ll walk down with you,” said Dr. Bliss and linked her arm through Andy’s. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
Andy tensed. “Me?” Oh, please don’t let her say anything about Carmen’s class in front of Dillon. He was one of her prime failures, even if she hadn’t mentioned his name.
Dillon was no longer amused, but he fell in step next to Dr. Bliss.
“Yes. I’ve spoken with Dillon about this, and after the glowing report that Carmen just gave me, I think you’re ready. So tonight—”
Dillon let out something that sounded like a squawk.
“I’ve scheduled the two of you for an evening in the Bower of Bliss.”
“I—” Dillon blurted out.
The high priestess held up her hand. He fell silent immediately.
Impressive. Then it seeped in. “The Bower of Bliss?” She was kidding, right? Oh, please, God, don’t let me laugh. She wouldn’t hurt Dr. Bliss’s feelings for the world, but she’d read the retreat literature about the special harem room where goddesses tested their skills on willing attendants. She thought it was a joke at first, then thought it could be a hell of a lot of fun, and until today would have looked forward to spending a night with Dillon there. But not anymore. Now her stomach knotted at the thought.
“I don’t think—”
The doctor paused. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Shit, they were right in front of the orgasm room again. Finally Dillon stepped in and somehow nudged the doctor into walking again.
“You’ve probably heard some talk about it from the other trainees. But truly, it’s just a private place to practice your essential nature.” Dr. Bliss paused to smile encouragingly at Andy.
Andy refused to stop, forcing the doctor to keep going.
“Some people do like to challenge themselves, physically as well as emotionally. But that isn’t required, not at all. And if things do start to go in a direction you’re uncomfortable with, there’s a button we jokingly call the panic button. Not that there is any reason for you to panic. But if you want to leave, just press the button and security will escort you back to your cabin. Because of it being dark,” she said as an afterthought.
The inside of Andy’s mouth went dry, the air sucked out of her lungs. She sneaked a sidelong glance at Dillon. He looked pleased—in a fresh-kill kind of way.
Fortunately, Dr. Bliss had a few things to discuss with him, so Andy took the opportunity to get the hell out.
———
Andy spent the afternoon in her cabin, watching the clock ticking inexorably toward the bewitching hour and wondering how she could thwart the plans for that night.
At six o’clock Evelyn, Loubelle, and Jeannie dropped by to help her get ready.
“Togas mandatory,” said Jeannie.
“You’ll be fine,” said Evelyn.
“And remember, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” added Loubelle.
“And can do everything you’ve ever wanted to do,” said Jeannie, who was looking a little enviously at the crown of fake leaves that was stuck on the top of Andy’s head like a mildewed halo. “You look just like a vestal virgin.”
“On the way to be sacrificed,” said Andy.
Evelyn patted her hand. “I’m sure Dillon will be the perfe
ct gentleman.”
As if things weren’t bad enough, thought Andy. She waited for them to leave, then tossed the fake leaves over the lamp shade and dropped onto the couch. Why was she going through with this? There was obviously no reason to get to know Dillon better. She wasn’t getting a paycheck. And yet, she hadn’t refused.
And neither had Dillon, she realized.
She knew her own motives. She was willing to make a public spectacle of herself, because she knew it was the only way she could corner Dillon and make him tell her what was going on. Dr. Bliss hadn’t said anything about him getting to push the panic button. And she was going to make sure he never got near it, not until she knew why she’d been ditched without so much as a “Thanks. I’ll call you.”
When the knock came, she snatched up the wreath, slapped it on her head, and went outside to be escorted to the Bower. She hesitated when she saw Dr. Bliss and her two acolytes. She felt honored, and at the same time, wary. Why were they making such a to-do over her? Other couples had used the Bower this week; none of them had been given such a royal escort.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind came a voice crying out in her mental wilderness. There’s a reason for this, and it isn’t because they like you.
———
Dillon fastened his kilt around his waist. He felt absurd. How could he interrogate Ariadne while he was dressed like a character from The Gladiator. He slipped his feet into his sandals and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. He looked in the mirror. No longer Greek slave wear. Now all he needed was a bagpipe. He yanked the sweatshirt off and threw it on the bed.
A minute later, he walked out of his room to a line of fellow slaves that stretched to the door, all hooting and giving him thumbs-up. Christ. Nobody did this for the last guy that went into the Bower. Of course his goddess had been a perfect specimen of come-and-get-it. It must be because of Ariadne’s transformation from mouse to—well, to something he’d better learn to resist.
He gave the crowd a little bow and headed outside.
The Bower was one of the many templelike buildings scattered throughout the compound. Only this one was set back in the trees away from prying eyes, enclosed by stucco walls and, hopefully, heated. The evening had turned cool.
