Stray

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Stray Page 21

by Natasha Stories


  Meanwhile, the party loomed large in my future. I retrieved my tux from Boulder on my trip there to take Max that Monday, and made sure I had a clean shirt and cuff links for the French cuffs. Egren might punch me, or Ashleigh might dump the punch on me; it didn’t matter. I had to look my best, from the time Erin arrived until whatever happened with the Egrens. After that, I suspected I’d no longer look my best, but it was a sacrifice that had to be made.

  Erin had been friendly enough on Monday, and I asked if I could pick her up for the party.

  “No, Jon. You said yourself it isn’t a date. I’ll drive myself there, it will be fine.”

  “How will you get home if you have too much champagne?” I asked.

  “I won’t have too much. But if I do, I’ll wait to sober up.” It was the best she could do, unless she’d let me take her home, and the truth was, I might be impaired, too. There were no taxis in Sunshine. No need for them; the town itself was only a few blocks long and a few wide, so everything was within walking distance. The resort didn’t really count, but if a townie couple wanted a really nice dinner, they’d drive. I gave up trying to manage Erin and decided to let things happen the way they would happen. I really had no choice.

  At last, Tuesday evening arrived, and I dressed carefully for the party. It was show time, again.

  As the CEO, I was on hand from the moment guests started to arrive, to greet employees and shareholders alike. The ballroom was a fantasy land of crystal, cream satin tablecloths and drapes of gold lamé, the brainchild of the party planner. With the background of white and gold, the ladies all looked spectacular in their colorful gowns and jewelry, or classic black gowns with pearls that reflected the white of the tablecloths.

  Erin arrived and took my breath away in a draped green silk gown that hugged her curves, the cashmere shawl I’d given her thrown casually around her shoulders. I took that from her and handed it to the coat-check clerk, noticing only then that Erin’s gown had no back above the waist.

  If I hadn’t been able to breathe before, it was becoming a crisis now. I struggled with my natural impulse to check her out, knowing that beneath the thin silk, her breasts were free of restraint. I remembered those breasts, perfect in shape and size for my hands. My palms itched to know them again, but I had to keep my eyes on hers, show her that I wasn’t the animal she’d come to believe me to be. My hand rested against her bare skin, soft and silky, as I introduced her to several shareholders, and then handed her over to Doc.

  “Erin, you look…stupendous,” Doc said, failing to keep his own eyes where they belonged. I cleared my throat. “What, I’m an old man, I can look, can’t I?”

  Erin’s startled laugh reminded us that she probably wouldn’t appreciate our conversational topic, so I glared at Doc and said, “Please take care of the lady, Doc.” Emphasis on the lady to remind him. Erin sat, and I sent a waiter over with a flute of champagne for her. I planned to make my apologies to the Egrens only after dinner and dessert. If it went down as I expected, there would be an ugly scene, and I didn’t want to spoil anyone’s dinner. Hopefully, it wouldn’t spoil their holiday dance, either. I would do my best to keep it discreet, had already informed Doc and Mrs. P that I needed them as witnesses, but hoped that not many others would be disturbed. In this way, it would be both public, as I’d promised, and somewhat private. Erin would also be a witness, but I didn’t tell her.

  I counted my glasses of champagne, wishing for something stronger but knowing I had obligations that precluded getting drunk. As dinner began, I stood and tapped my glass for attention for a short speech of welcome. A few words about the strides we’d made in protecting our beautiful canyon, our greatest resource, and then I sat so the guests could eat in peace. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Egren scowled at my remarks, or that Ashleigh was giving me significant looks that I couldn’t interpret. God, I hoped this wouldn’t backfire. What would I do if she cried, or threw herself at me? Anything but anger or the cold shoulder would be a disaster. How would I handle it? I didn’t have a clue, and the nerves threatened to spur me into headlong flight.

  Dinner over, dessert being served, an employee representative rose to thank corporate—me—for the lovely party. I hoped they’d still appreciate it when dessert was done. Cheesecake, of course; it was expected. I loathed cheesecake, but I took a few bites to maintain appearances.

  All through dinner and now dessert, Erin and Doc had bantered with each other and with Mrs. P, who was also seated at our table. Mrs. P pretended to flirt with Doc, who, despite his age, was a good ten years younger than she. Doc was trying to be gallant to both Mrs. P and Erin, whose enjoyment of the company was evident in her high color and tinkling laugh. Erin’s fair hair was piled on top of her head and shot through with a complicated network of thin braids, making her look like a silhouette on a Greek vase. When I could forget my coming ordeal, I entertained myself by imagining how it would be to loosen that hair and bury my face in it. Or, in those perfect breasts, which danced under the silk every time she laughed.

  The orchestra was due to start playing in about fifteen minutes; it was time. I rose from my chair, excusing myself to the other three at the table, and walked several yards around the edge of the room until I found Egren and Ashleigh at their table.

  “Would you care to join me for a toast?” I asked, hoping to get them away from the couple who shared their table, shareholders whom I didn’t recognize, and into the relative privacy of our corner.

  “I don’t see why we should,” boomed Egren. So, it was going to be that way. It was nothing I hadn’t expected, so I went with it.

  “Rowland, you and I have had our differences,” I began, causing the other couple to look at each other with worried expressions. “I owe you an apology for the way I cut you out, it was a cowardly act. I’m deeply, genuinely sorry.” The couple shot out of their chairs and walked quickly toward the dance floor before Egren could answer. He appeared to be having some trouble finding words, but it was his turn to speak. I wouldn’t interrupt his thoughts.

  “I must say, I didn’t think you had it in you, Miles,” he said finally. “I was going to throw that back in your face. I find I can’t, though. Very nicely done.”

  “Rowland, I would like to offer you that toast. It wasn’t just a ploy,” I answered. I hadn’t dared look at Ashleigh yet. I could feel her disdain coming off her in waves, though. This was the real part that needed to happen with Erin as witness. Without another word, I turned sideways and gestured toward my table. Egren stood and began to walk, so Ashleigh had little choice but to follow. Her eyes flashed at me as she passed.

  “Are you here with that—cunt,” she asked, hesitating as she sought the most insulting word in her vocabulary. I wouldn’t answer. Any answer I could give would acknowledge that word, and it in no way applied to Erin. If Ashleigh only knew how Erin had stood up for her. She’d never understand, though. It wouldn’t cross her mind that there was anything in Erin’s mind but ulterior motives. And it didn’t matter. I was going to apologize, and do it sincerely. How she received it was up to her.

  In only a moment we were at my table, and I pulled a couple of chairs from an empty table nearby to accommodate our increased numbers. I signaled the waiter for a round of champagne, which he brought quickly enough that I didn’t have to fill the interim with conversation. Everyone seemed waiting for something, though Erin looked slightly puzzled. Doc and Mrs. P, of course, knew what was coming, as did Egren. Everyone, in fact, but Ashleigh and Erin.

  As I proposed a toast to forging new friendships from the ashes of the old, I couldn’t help but contrast the two young women. Both about the same age, but Erin looked fresh and young, with dewy skin and a glow that positively lit her face. Ashleigh, on the other hand, looked hard and used. Had I done that to her? I felt a genuine pang of regret as the thought crossed my mind.

  Everyone had taken a sip of their champagne after the toast, and it was time to do the hard part.

  “Ashle
igh,” I said. “There’s something I want to say to you, too. I know I acted like a jerk when I let you believe I cared for you. It was a crappy thing to do, and if it hurt you, I’ll always regret it. I’d like your forgiveness, if you can find it in your heart.” Even as I said it, I knew I’d got it wrong. Something had enraged her, and there was about to be a shit storm. All I could do was stand there and take it.

  The champagne splashed into my face just a second before her words found my ears. “You let me believe! Why you arrogant prick! The only reason I was with you was because Daddy said it would be good to combine our shares. I loathed every minute of it.” Confused, I looked wildly in Egren’s direction, to find him staring at his daughter as if she’d lost her mind. She wasn’t through. “You mean nothing to me, and never did. Less than that miserable dog I hit, and yes, I still wish I’d killed it then.”

  A gasp from beside me made me remember Erin. Hadn’t I ever told her Ashleigh hit the dog? Maybe not. Ashleigh was still in full attack mode, and a crowd was beginning to gather.

  “I hope your whore here is better at giving blowjobs than at standing up for herself, since you’ll probably have her on her knees night and day. Not that I care whether you ever get off again, you miserable son of a bitch. Fuck whoever you want. In fact, fuck yourself. Don’t you ever, ever, try to tell anyone that you were with me to play me. I played you, got it?”

  After I’d spent hours composing my apology, my first impulse was to argue. Then I realized how ridiculous that would be, each of us claiming to be the asshat in this situation. So, I merely nodded, and said, “Got it.”

  Ashleigh turned to her father, whose face was red enough now that I wondered if we should call an ambulance. “Take me home, Daddy. I don’t ever want to see this prick again.” Egren shot me an apologetic look, of all things, as he followed Ashleigh out. I didn’t know what to say or do next.

  Mrs. P saved me with an acerbic remark. “That young woman should have her mouth washed out with soap.” It brought down the house, those who were within earshot. Two or three of the ski instructors approached me over the course of the evening and confessed that they’d been with Ashleigh while she and I were dating. I made a mental note to get a comprehensive STD screening.

  Erin watched the entire drama with wide gray-green eyes made brilliant by her green silk dress. At the end of the evening, I offered to take her home, but she told me that she was probably more sober than I was, and that she’d be fine.

  “See you Thursday?” she asked.

  “Sure.” It was a start.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  I didn’t know how to think about Jon after that night. He’d tried to do the right thing, only to have Ashleigh throw it back in his face, both literally and in a very crude way. I burned with shame every time I thought of all those people who now thought I was probably giving Jon oral sex night and day. The fact was that we weren’t seeing each other much, outside of the clinic. He was busy with the lawsuit that the construction company brought when he canceled the contract for the new hotel. And I was busy with the clinic, as usual.

  Occasionally, we had dinner together, and he’d stopped arguing with me when I wanted to pay for my own meal. It was a routine I was now comfortable with; go to work, see Jon now and then for an informal dinner, hike when the weather allowed it. Thankfully, Megan had either come to terms with my presence or more likely found another boyfriend. As long as I didn’t keep her overtime on a Friday evening, she kept her behavior relatively reasonable.

  A week passed, and then two, and before I knew it, it was the end of January and Max was ready to go home with Jon. The only thing was, where was home? I knew Jon had a house in Boulder. I also knew he’d been staying at the resort. Where did he intend to take Max? If the resort, I was going to have to reconsider allowing him to adopt Max. Max needed space.

  On a blustery late-January Saturday, I took a phone call at home after clinic hours. I was cozy in my easy chair, my warm shawl around my shoulders and feet drawn up under me. I had a steamy romance novel on my Kindle, and a weekend of relaxation ahead of me. It was Jon on the phone.

  “Erin, would you do me a favor?”

  “What’s that, Jon?”

  “I need a woman’s opinion. I’ve narrowed my search down to four houses. Would you come out with me to look at them again, and help me make a decision?”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re the only woman friend I have? Come on, it would really help me. I need to close on one so Max will have a home to come home to.”

  That settled it. If it was for the dog, I was fine with it. I met him at the first house, a two-story contemporary near Doc’s. This house had been built recently, as a ski-getaway home for an east-coast financier. It had all the amenities anyone could want, granite countertops, slate floors in wet areas and Brazilian Cherry everywhere else. The living room had a vaulted ceiling with a breathtaking chandelier hanging over what would be a cozy seating area in front of a fireplace. The master bedroom was luxurious, with an en suite bath that boasted an actual hot tub, as well as a shower that would have accommodated an entire family—or an orgy. But, it had no soul. I wandered through it, trying to feel the previous owners, and the house just wasn’t alive, like Doc’s was. Maybe it was because the furniture was gone. When Jon asked if I liked it, I shrugged. It was nice; if he liked it, what difference did it make if I did or didn’t?

  The next one, just on the next street, was a big, rambling ranch-style, all one level. Similar amenities made me understand that this was a development with just one builder, and when I realized it was Miles-McGraw, it all made sense. We looked at two more before Jon asked which one I liked best.

  “Why?” I said. “What difference does my opinion make?”

  “Well, I like them all equally, so I don’t care, but I have to have a way to make a choice. Was any one of them better for a dog?”

  “I liked the one with the reclaimed hardwood flooring and the big kitchen overlooking the stream,” I said. “It’s already got a fenced area, where Max can run without being on a leash. Max won’t care which one, as long as you’re there with him as much as possible. If you get the one with pine flooring, though, you’ll have to make sure to keep his nails trimmed. Otherwise, he’ll ruin your floor.”

  “Good point. Okay, well thanks for giving me your opinion.”

  “Sure, Jon. If you’re through with me, I’d like to go home, now. I have a chick flick and some Kahlua hot chocolate waiting for me.”

  Jon smiled over at me and said, “Sounds perfect.”

  I made my eyes big and round and squealed, “Oooooh, you like chick flicks, too? You could come over, watch it with me. We could do each other’s nails.”

  Jon laughed. “Well, I’d probably prefer an adventure or comedy, but a movie and Kahlua hot chocolate sounds like a good way to pass a lazy Saturday afternoon.”

  “Sorry, all I’ve got is chick flicks.”

  “I get it. You want to be alone. I’ll take you home, then, but will you go furniture shopping with me next weekend?”

  I had to think about that. It required a bigger time commitment, since we’d have to go to Boulder, or maybe even Denver. Plus, furniture was a lot more of a personal choice than a house. You could pretty much make any house your own and fit your style, if you had the right decor. And furnishing a house of that size—that was a daunting task. “Let me think about it. Maybe.”

  We were at my apartment by then, and I hopped out of the car without waiting for him to open the door for me. “Thanks, Jon, that was fun,” I said. Then I ran, giving him no more time to say anything. If he started asking me to pick out towels and sheets, I would seriously freak. I waved from the top of my stairs, and watched him drive away slowly.

  Did I want to spend several hours with him, looking at furniture as if we were a couple? The sales people would assume it, I knew. But, we’d probably never see them again, so what difference did it make? After all was said and done, I e
njoyed Jon’s company, especially now that he was much more relaxed.

  Since the New Year’s Eve party, even though we didn’t spend time with each other every day, it felt more like we were friends. He was more fun, too. I didn’t feel that I had to be on constant guard against unwanted advances, because he didn’t make any. In short, this was a different Jon than the one I’d met two months before. Sometimes, the way he talked, I almost wondered if he was channeling a woman so he could become my best friend or something. But then, awareness of his body overtook me. In no way was this man feminine.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  It had been a month since I’d sent Ellyn, as I had to think of her, a friend request. I talked incessantly about my dog, and posted plenty of pictures of Max to back it up. Max on the trails, scooping up snow with his nose and flinging it far and wide as he shook it from his coat. Max in front of my new house, the one that Erin liked. On Saturday, I was going to use the excuse of furniture shopping to suggest I meet her in Denver. But, I needed a buffer.

 

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