The Kiss That Counted

by Karin Kallmaker

  "Okay." CJ sampled her coffee and made an appreciative noise. "You make Gracie's taste like peat moss."

  "Thank you." Karita described Marty and the office., hoping to put CJ at ease. It couldn't be easy talking about her long-held secrets to perfect strangers.

  CJ, looking momentarily wan, admitted, "Part of me keeps thinking they'll come back. Any minute they'll knock on the door."

  "You'll send them away again, CJ. They're bullies, and they run from anything stronger than they are. They have no hold on you."

  "I'm trying so hard to believe it."

  They held hands and talked about the mountains, the house, the shelter, anything but the future. When the coffee was nearly done, she drew CJ up from the table. "I didn't show you my favorite room."

  CJ laughed when Karita opened the bedroom door. "That was subtle."

  "Wasn't it? I'm quite pleased with myself."

  CJ helped pull Karita's T-shirt out of her pants. "Why is this your favorite room? You bring all your girlfriends here?"

  "No, silly. You're the first"

  "Oh."

  "I've said I love you to a lot of people. There was even someone who I thought was special and wasn't. I really did think that was love but then…" Karita saw no reason to hold back now. "Then I kissed you. Then I got to know you and every new thing I learn about you ripens the way I feel about you. You don't scare me. My feelings don't scare me. Okay, maybe a little, but only because this is an adventure I haven't been on."

  CJ swallowed audibly before saying, "And you really want to go on that kind of journey with me?"

  "It wouldn't be a journey I could take, not without you. Taking the risks, living the life with you, that's the point."

  CJ's eyes shimmered. "And I'm the sweet talker?"

  "Must be rubbing off on me." Karita slipped her T-shirt over her head and pulled CJ's arms around her waist. "I love the light in this room. It changes throughout the afternoon and I've always wondered what it would be like to spend an afternoon in bed, just watching the light shift."

  "And you want to find out today?"

  "Yes."

  "That," CJ whispered against Karita's mouth, "is a wonderful idea."

  Though CJ still moved stiffly at times, she explored the curves and lines of Karita's body with pleasing thoroughness as the white light of early afternoon eased to a honey glow, then deepened to golden shadows.

  Karita knew all about lust and fun, and she had had her share, but every time they kissed, touched, strained together, the layers of sensation were so much more complicated. She explored CJ like a treasure box, stopping to savor each layer, then exposing a deeper one until the most precious jewel of all, CJ's heart, was open to her. The vestiges of the bars separating them melted away and she finally understood what naked meant. CJ rose in the circle of her arms with choked cries, and Karita's heart answered from a joyous place inside her she'd never given voice before.

  Tears of tension and happiness melted into laughter. It wasn't the same easy, affectionate laughter she'd always known with Emily. This laughter sprang from a deeper well, a well, Karita hoped, that would never run dry.

  CJ gathered her close. "I love watching you do that. It's like you're flying and I get to go along."

  Karita flushed. with pleasure. She felt claimed in ways that she had never thought possible before. Feeling as if she had melted from the inside out, she stroked the loose tumble of curls turned to topaz in the waning light. "The sun is nearly down."

  CJ's hands molded Karita's hips. "I want to do this all night."

  With just the tips of her fingers. Karita found which places were warmer, and cooler, which curves of skin would smooth at her touch, and which would roughen to beg for more. CJ's almost inaudible whimper when Karita went inside her was a shout of joy to Karita. The look of wonder in CJ's eyes intoxicated her all over again.

  A lifetime in an afternoon—it was not enough. When CJ dozed, Karita held her close and said every charm her grandmother had ever taught her. This would not be their only afternoon, not if she could help it.

  No more frogs, no more princesses, this was a real woman, filled with everyday magic, and she was not going to let her go.

  Telling some of her story to one of Karita's friends as she fed dogs and cats was one thing. Doing so at the law offices where Karita worked was something else again. CJ paused at the intimidating glass doors. Her refection showed a well-dressed, chic businesswoman but CJ felt nothing like that on the inside. She was glad she'd had a chance to gather her wits before telling her tale one more time.

  The morning had started early, but delightfully, showering with Karita and watching her dress for work. She'd delivered Karita to her car and headed home herself, knee much improved though her stitches itched every time she breathed in too deeply.

  She'd surveyed her parking lot and the stairs to her apartment door, the way she had every day since she'd moved in, and found them empty of threat. As she'd showered and dressed she had allowed that maybe someday she would relax, but for now the mere hope that there would never be bogeymen lurking again was enough. Aunt Bitty hit when a target was within reach, and now that she knew there was no profit in CJ, she wouldn't waste her time. At least CJ continued to tell herself.

  At work she'd assured everyone, including Burnett, that she was fine, and an intense morning of phone calls and presentation drafts had made up for the lost day. She'd nearly felt like the old CJ when she'd left to keep the appointment with Officer's Anita. Karita had been right about that—her corroboration of time and sequence of events was all the police were interested in.

  She was just bracing herself to go into the law office. when a voice startled her. "Can I get the door for you?"

  CJ stepped back to let a vaguely familiar man do the honors. She'd stopped at Gracie's for two skinny mochas, Turkish and capped. Juggling both of them and her backpack had been awkward. Now she had to go in. "Thanks."

  "Did you have a good lunch, Brent?" Karita's voice was charming and modulated. CJ wanted to stand over in the corner out of sight and just listen to her.

  "I did, thanks."

  "Your deliveries, kind sir. I'll let you know if—" Karita caught sight of CJ. "I'll let you know if anything else comes…arrives," she finished absently.

  They were alone in the spacious lobby then, or at least it felt that way to CJ. One look at Karita had brought back the new, blushing CJ. She had clung so long to the idea that she was set apart from other women, but here she was as mushy as a dime store greeting card. It was weirdly comforting to know she felt things that millions of other women felt. Comforting to think that in the matter of love she might really be…normal.

  "Is that for me?" Karita eyed the coffee cup with positively lusty intent. "Or are you a two-fisted drinker now?"

  "For you." CJ knew her blush was visible. "With raw sugar and chocolate sprinkles."

  "You are," Karita whispered, "a really good woman." She took the cup and waved CJ to a seat. "It'll be about ten minutes."

  For ten wonderful minutes CJ got to watch the woman she loved in a brand new setting. Elegant and poised in a simple suit of dark rose, Karita brought the same feeling of calm and order to this office. that she did to the shelter. Certainly, any office. could use someone like that, and it paid decently, no question about it. Yet, in her heart, CJ knew it was a waste. Lawyers and real estate brokers would get by without Karita. Frightened women and children, terrified puppies and even llamas, needed her more. They would make a good team, each of them doing what they did best—CJ stopped her thoughts there. Her future was too uncertain to start making plans like that.

  The human animals were predictable, though, and CJ watched no less than five messengers drop off packages. Every single one of them—including a very cute baby dyke and a handsome fellow with a wedding ring glinting on his finger—flirted with Karita. She took none of it seriously, always smiled, and briskly sent them on their way again. The dyke got a friendly wink, but CJ could hard
ly blame Karita for that.

  Moments later she got a wink of her own, and it wasn't some good-bye-cutie-pie wink. It was the full-quality wink, complete with reminders of that shower they'd shared and suggestions for later. She winked back and they both blushed.

  Karita's fingers. few over the phone board. "Ready? I'll bring her on back. Thank you, kind sir." Another series of taps ensued before she took off her headset. "It'll be okay."

  Her nervousness descended again as Karita introduced her to Marty Hammer. Karita had described him well, including the intelligent eyes dwarfed by astonishing eyebrows, and a congenial air. For CJ, it was the impeccably tailored Ralph Lauren suit that asserted that he was good enough at what he did to be paid very well for it. She told herself not to be intimidated. She could sell real estate to a man like this in her sleep. But this was no business deal, she reminded herself. If she couldn't get a sympathetic hearing from him, there was no way she'd get one from a judge in Kentucky.

  "So I thought she should talk to a professional," Karita finished

  "Thank you, prin—Ms. Hanssen. So, Ms. Roshe—"

  "CJ, please."

  "CJ, then, if you'll call me Marty as well. Why don't you tell me what these mysterious legal matters are?"

  CJ opened the backpack. The money was back in the safe. Instead she had brought something else.

  Karita made a little noise as CJ put the gun on Marty's desk. The .38 had sat in that pipe the four years she'd been in detention. She'd gone back for it, not because it had a story it could tell, but because it was still loaded. The thought that someone would find it, and someone else might die, had been too hard to run from. The chill of its cold metal had been a constant reminder of that terrible moment.

  "I need to know how to dispose of this. That's one thing."

  "You could take it in through an amnesty program."

  "Or you could, on behalf of a client."

  "On behalf of a client," he echoed. His next words he chose with care. "Are you telling me it could be evidence in a crime?"

  CJ chose her words equally carefully. " To my knowledge, it has no use at all as evidence in any crime." Justice for the crime she knew about had already been meted out. Because the bullet had fattened into brick, the .38 couldn't even be tied to the death of a town minister twenty years ago. She was ready to be free of the reminder the gun had provided all these years.

  "Why are you really here, then?"

  She knew her color rose, and her voice betrayed her tension. She had spent so long going over the facts in her head that she could deliver them succinctly. She was aware of Karita, sitting quietly, watching her. She had debated asking Karita to leave but wanted her to know she no longer had anything to hide, wanted her to know that she had told Marty the entire, bitter truth. The dull gleam of the .38 was like a silent witness, and it made the past very real.

  She finished with, "I was afraid if I ran into anyone from my family or the Gathering, or even a rival clan, they'd force me to go back. I didn't want to be in that life anymore. Lying constantly to everybody, including myself. Watching my relatives turn someone else's retirement money, or life savings, into empty beer cans. So when they were transferring me I took advantage of a traffic jam and a scuff to slip away. Cassiopeia Juniper Rochambeau really is dead. But I have to make it official She skipped out on her sentence, and I want to make it right so I can finally have a life."

  Marty was frowning, but CJ couldn't tell if it was a lawyer concentration thing or disapproval. "If Kentucky is anything like Colorado, you have little to worry about if you surrender yourself and allocute. A judge might tack on a symbolic day, but if you complete your original sentence you would be done with it. Of course I can't guarantee that. You did break several new laws and you were an adult when you did so."

  "CJ, you left out the important part." Karita turned to Marty. "She's made sizeable reparations, anonymously, for things that happened when she was barely a teenager, including to the poor dead man's family. Wouldn't a judge take that into account?"

  "Yes." Marty straightened up in his chair. "It would definitely be of interest to the court."

  "I don't see why it would matter to them. It's not about why I took off. The court doesn't even know I was part of those cons."

  "CJ, it's a big deal—"

  "Princess—sorry, Karita, if you'll allow me."

  "Sorry," Karita muttered.

  Marty had thawed considerably. CJ wondered if until then he'd seen her as someone taking advantage of Karita's desire to help. She abruptly felt that now he saw her as someone who might, might, given time, be good enough for Karita and she shushed the lingering but increasingly distant whisperings of Aunt Bitty trying to tell her that if he really knew who she was, he'd be the first person to turn her in.

  "Forget television and movies, CJ. The law isn't like that. No matter how perverted it can be in sensational cases, the law was created to protect people and their property. Sometimes it fails miserably and then it makes headlines. But most of the time, in cases nobody ever hears about, judges really do care about justice, which balances the greater good against the threat of harm. In case after ordinary case, a good judge knows that restitution is more useful and more lasting than punishment." He gave her an encouraging smile. "Let's find you a good attorney who'll get you a hearing with that kind of judge."

  Marty made three quick phone calls and wrote down three names as a result. He passed the list to CJ. "Give them all a call, tell them what you told me, and take it from there. If you want some help choosing, I'll be happy to advise you."

  "Thank you," CJ said. She rose to her feet, guardedly hopeful. She gestured at the gun. "I took the firing pin out. I don't want to take it back. I don't need it in my life anymore."

  "Are you my client?"

  CJ smiled. "I have three deliveries of substantial sums of money that I no longer need to handle anonymously. I would like a legal agent to do that for me from now on."

  Karita hopped to her feet. "I'll get a retainer deposit form." She paused for a second to touch Marty's hand. "Thank you."

  To CJ's intense relief, Marty picked up the gun. "I'll lock this up until I can see it disposed of safely."

  CJ watched the lump of metal, and all that it represented of her mistakes and regrets, go out of her life. She hoped with all her heart that it was a harbinger of things to come.

  Chapter 16

  "Four weeks sabbatical, eh? Starting tomorrow?"

  CJ gave Jerry a reassuring smile to hide her irritation. He'd interrupted her last few minutes in the office. to rehash her request for leave. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing, Jerry. I have to take care of it now."

  "And your deals in progress really are covered?" His boyish charm was marred by a deep scowl.

  "As I said, I've farmed them out to the people with the best chance of closing them. I saved this one for you. Last-minute gift." It hurt to hand Jerry the largest client she had, one interested in an entire floor. in the Prospector Building. She had been planning to give it to Burnett, but had held back just in case Jerry did exactly what he was doing now. It was a bribe, plain and simple, and she hoped the lucrative possibility would keep her in his good graces. Though she knew any agency in town would be happy to bring her on, starting over would be an energy drain she didn't want to juggle right now.

  "Well, it's highly unusual." He looked slightly mollified when he saw the name of the client on the folder. "I still wish you'd given more notice."

  "I know, but I seriously doubt I'll ever be in this situation again." CJ could say that with almost absolute certainty. After the initially tempestuous conversation with Emily, dealing with Jerry was a picnic.

  "You are so on probation," Emily had declared. "Hurt her and I'll probably have to kill you."

  Karita had laughed and kissed Emily with a hug, but CJ had taken the threat seriously. She wouldn't forget the bond between Karita and Emily and had no intention of giving Emily any reason to be alarmed. If she hurt Karita,
she was perfectly aware that Emily would have to get in a long line for the honor of killing her. Nann and Pam could feed her to a mountain lion. Lucy could bury her somewhere no one would ever find She hoped that making Karita deliriously happy and raising a bunch of money for the shelter would get her in good with all of Karita's friends. It was a con, oh yes it was, but she was up front about it, and the rewards were worth it.

  She left Jerry salivating over the possible deal and took care of the last detail of her day.

  Nate Summerfeld was expecting her call.

  "So, CJ, my favorite real estate broker, are you calling to take me out for a wonderful lunch, or do you want a favor?"

  "If we go to Elway's again, you're buying. You're right, though, it's a favor I'm after. I need something only you can give me," she finished in a breathy contralto.

  He chuckled. "Who do I make the check payable to?"

  "Not so fast, it's actually something else."

  Nate laughed. "Is my wife going to object?"

  "Your wife may kiss you."

  "I am thoroughly intrigued."

  CJ took a deep breath, but kept her tone casual. "Here's the deal. There's a new program called After the Big Game. We're hoping to have Marguerite Brownell, or someone equally prominent, be our lead cheerleader. It pays for the extra staff in a local shelter on the nights after big sporting events. More kids and their mothers end up in shelters on nights like that. What would be really neat is if some of the men like you, who know that sports give a lot to the community in terms of economy and pride, also supported something that helps with the downside."

  Nate didn't sound quite as enthusiastic as he had, but he said, "Okay, you've twisted my arm. Why don't I write you a check?"

  "We're thinking of a way to thank the men who donate big dollars, give them something that would really put a smile on their face without costing any money from the program. None of you guys needs another tie clip. You've got three minutes of DiamondVision ad time because you're a sponsor of the University of Colorado's big rivalry match. What you can give me, which nobody else on the planet can, is thirty seconds up on the scoreboard to plug the program and thank the big guys who give us some real dinero."