Cause and Affection

by Sheryl Wright

  “There’s my girl!”

  Kara almost choked on her champagne. The sound of her father’s voice always raised her hackles. “Here we go,” she warned Madeleine, squeezing her hand again and leading her to a group of men surrounding her father. As usual, he was dressed impeccably in a Saville Row suit. And just like his attitude it was just slightly out of date compared to the trove of men in much more fashionable skinny suits. His shirt too was expensive but off the shelf and compared to the suit, seemed low rent. She might have given him points for the silk tie but knew that since her mother had left him, Joanne had taken on the duty of picking up the shirts and matching the ties for him. In her eyes, he looked like a bespoke wrapper covering a grizzled artifact. With his sallow complexion and hollowed, mean looking eyes, no one would mistake John Wexler for being in his prime.

  “Madeleine, may I present my father, John Wexler, and this is his merry band of men. Dad, I would like you to meet my good friend Madeleine Jessepp.”

  Madeleine smiled graciously, offering her hand to the senior Wexler. “I’m pleased to meet you, John. Kara’s told me so much about you and Wexler-Ogelthorpe.”

  “Funny. She’s never mentioned you.” It wasn’t meant as a question. It was delivered with clear disdain and absolute dismissal.

  “Dad!” Kara warned in a deep growl. “Madeleine is my friend. She’s a rep with Norstar Conventions out of Minneapolis and is here for pretty much the same reasons we are.” There was no joy in her voice. Something about the malicious spark in her father’s dark eyes had pushed her right to the edge. She braced herself for his second swing. It would usually be some spittle-laced insult about her suit, her self, or her sex.

  “Well then.” He gave Madeleine’s offered hand a quick, limp shake before raking his eyes over her, head to toe. “Welcome to the party,” he said, leering.

  Madeleine, the picture of perfect etiquette offered, “I look forward to chatting once Kara’s had the opportunity to greet the other guests.” She snaked her arm through Kara’s and led her toward the next group.

  Kara, more than delighted and surprised by Madeleine’s bold move, suppressed a smile. She was introducing the account reps from New England to her when she overheard her father boast to his ass-kissing followers, “Now that, gentlemen, is pure Vegas gold! Account rep…huh!” He laughed loudly. “So, what’s the going rate these days for a first class piece of Vegas pleasure?” There was no pretending whom the comment referred to when he added, “Maybe they offer a father-daughter deal.”

  Madeleine ran from the room.

  It was the last straw. The dam broke and all the pain and anger Kara had been harboring year after year came pouring out as she moved on him. “You bloody asshole!” A furious, solid right hook followed her words, landing on her father’s nose. Bone cracked, blood and snot blew in every direction, her father reeled backward, mouth agape. Hands grabbed her arms, pulling her back while she screamed obscenities. Only the arrival of her brother and the West Coast boys put an end to the bedlam, with them dragging her struggling, enraged body from the room.

  Shaking off their physical restraint, still seething, she apologized to them for losing her cool. “Stop! Stop already. Just…just leave me alone,” she said, and sprinted for the elevator.

  She wanted to go to Madeleine. To explain. Apologize. Mostly she just wanted to make sure she was okay. But she had no idea where Madeleine would be, whether she was staying here at the hotel or somewhere else. It had never occurred to her to ask. She would return to her room and call her. The least she could do was make sure they could have a quiet conversation without the noise of the casino or dipshit men around her. It wasn’t until she reached her suite and closed the door behind her that she started to shake from the crash of her adrenaline rush.

  “Oh my God! What happened?” Joanne, dressed in a business suit but still in stocking feet, disappeared into one of the bedrooms returning a moment later with a fresh towel. “Your hand! You’re bleeding…”

  Kara flinched the moment the towel touched her swelling hand. Obviously, she had done some damage not just to her father’s face, but to herself as well. “It’s not my blood,” she said without emotion but feeling as if her own blood were draining away along with the adrenaline.

  Holding the towel-wrapped hand as if it were an unexploded bomb, Joanne hissed, “What did you do?”

  Eyes closed and leaning against the door, she shook her head, declaring, “I just personally delivered my resignation to our father, and there’s no taking this one back.”

  * * *

  Madeleine was pacing the living room of her suite. Still steaming from the insult, she ignored the director as he spoke insistently on his cell phone and did his own pacing. He was taking a report from someone else on what had happened, working with God knows who on updating the script. As far as she was concerned, they could shove the script up their asses. She wasn’t a prostitute. And she wasn’t playing a prostitute. Even if she were, there was no way in hell she would put up with that crap from anyone.

  The director tabbed off his phone and turned to her. “We may need you to reach out to her.”

  “Are you kidding me? After what—”

  “I know you’re upset. That makes perfect sense.” At her harsh look he added, “Frankly, my dear, if it had happened to me, I might have wilted on the spot, or screamed and cried like a baby. Either way, you handled it magnificently.”

  Still not ready to hear him, she nodded absently, pacing with her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. “Tell me that was not part of the script?”

  “It most certainly was not! But…and this is a big but…now that it’s happened, we can make it work for us.”

  She turned on him. “Are you kidding me? There is no way in hell I’ll let that bastard get away with insulting me like that!”

  “Oh, my dear you mustn’t fret. That’s already been taken care of.” At his mischievous smile, she froze, wondering what he meant. After all, this was Vegas. “Oh for God’s sake!” The director rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing like that. But it may make you feel better to know Mr. Wexler, is, at this moment en route to Cedars Sinai with a broken nose. Delivered without mercy at the hand, or should I say fist, of your love interest. That, I would conclude, is an excellent indication that you’re close to delivering on the performance expectations of the script. Brava, my girl. Brava!”

  A little confused and more than a little shocked, Madeleine stumbled into the nearest chair. “She defended me?”

  “Oh, my dear. Your lady didn’t just defend you, she called him out, then punched him out. The way I hear it, it took half the men in the room to pull her off and prevent her from killing him on the spot. The man was lucky to escape with just a broken nose. That certainly sounds like the work of a woman who’s found her mojo.”

  “She defended me,” she repeated. What a strange experience. The truth was, working in a town like Vegas invited a high level of inappropriate behavior. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” was the mantra most men took far too seriously, often assuming everything was up for grabs. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t met or even dated guys she would’ve called gentlemen, but the work, the industry, and certainly those men with any power, assumed the rules changed simply because they were in Las Vegas. Thinking about it now, she could admit it wasn’t the bad behavior of most men or her failing career that were driving her to leave. It was the constant aching comprehension that she was alone without someone with whom to share her aspirations. Picking up her phone she tabbed to Kara’s number, wondering if she would pick up or let it go to voice mail.

  “Madeleine! I am so, so sorry. Are you all right? That should never have happened. I am so sorry. That bastard was way, way out of line. I hope you know I wouldn’t put up with that. Never. You don’t deserve that. No one deserves that, you don’t deserve that, and I am so, so sorry—”

  “Kara. Kara stop! I’m okay,” she insisted, pleased by the sound of Kara’s deep and unbridl
ed concern.

  “Are you?” Kara asked, her tone gentle and apprehensive.

  “Is it true? Did you hit him?”

  There was silence on the phone, the kind that carried more tension than white noise. “Yes,” she finally said. “I know that’s reprehensible behavior and I’m embarrassed, but I’m not going to apologize.”

  “Don’t. Yes, I know it’s inappropriate, and I can’t even begin to imagine how much trouble you’re in right now.” Finally, she asked, without waiting for the director’s cue, “Where are you? Can I come to you?”

  “Eleven oh five.”

  “I’m on my way, honey.” It slipped out automatically, and she didn’t think twice about it. She was back on her feet and heading for the door before she remembered the director was standing there with his modified script in hand. “I don’t care what you say or what that thing says. I’m going to see her. I have to be sure she’s all right.” She didn’t wait for a reply.

  Kara’s sister was staring at her as she put her phone down.

  “People want to talk to you.” She held up her own phone. “Zack’s downstairs. He says Samantha will handle it if you want her to represent you.” Their sister-in-law was the agency’s contract lawyer. She also had issues with her father-in-law which explained why she was offering to manage things for Kara and not the other way around.

  Kara nodded, agreeing that Samantha was the best choice to settle things down. “Jo, go to the hospital. Check on the old man.”

  “But what about you?” She nodded at the towel-wrapped hand.

  “Just tell me if he’s pressing charges.”

  Joanne shook her head. “The sheriff suggested it, but Zack says he laughed it off.” She stood, looking forlorn and confused.

  Kara knew this latest fight would be hardest on Joanne. She adored her daddy and respected her big sis. It was the ultimate no-win scenario. “Tell you what. You find me the Tylenol and get your shoes, then get the hell out of here. My date is on the way up. Having my little sis here will cramp my style, even without functioning equipment.” She held up the towel- wrapped hand.

  “You! You’re just as big a pig as he is!” Jo was smiling as she delivered her accusation. She disappeared into her room, returning with a family-sized bottle of pain-reliever and her designer heels. Someone knocked at the door. “Oh my God, what do we do?”

  Still a little shaky, Kara moved to the door. “Keep breathing, Joanne. It’s probably just Madeleine.” She opened the door to Madeleine’s concerned look. She was carrying an overfilled bucket of ice.

  “I had a feeling you might need this,” she said as Kara held open the door. Madeleine took her good hand, pulling her toward the couch and only then seeing Joanne. “Oh thank God you’re here. Have you checked her hand?”

  “Not yet,” Joanne said. “I was so busy worrying about everything, then I saw the blood… Madeleine, can you take care of things here? I need to go to the hospital.”

  “Don’t you worry Jo, I’ve got this,” she promised. “Text me an update when you can.”

  At the door, Joanne stopped, half in, half out. “Madeleine,” she uttered, “I’m sorry about what he said. He’s not really a bad guy, he just gets like that when he’s around his men. Still, it wasn’t right, and I’m really sorry.”

  “Joanne, I want you to hear me and listen to every word. You are not responsible for your father’s actions. You’re not responsible for your husband’s actions, or even your brother’s actions. Or even for this one,” she said tipping her head toward Kara. “You are only responsible for yourself. And you have been nothing but a friend to me so don’t apologize. Got it?”

  Jo nodded, then left, leaving Madeleine and Kara alone. Not quite alone, they still had the elephant in the room and Madeleine knew it would be her job to dismantle it. “Kara, I meant what I said to your sister. You are not responsible for his actions. Still, having said that, I have to admit I’m overwhelmed. I know it’s silly. It’s like I’m in some B movie from the sixties where the boy stands up to protect the girl’s honor…”

  “I’m still sorry. He was fucking wrong, and I won’t have him or anyone else talk like that to you. Look, Madeleine, I know we’re not really a thing. Still, I really like you. Even if it turns out we never see each other again, I would still have done the same thing. It’s just, I guess hearing him put you down just brought up everything I hate about him. Maybe it was everything I hate about the world these days.”

  “Honey, don’t be like that. I know the world’s a little strained. Okay, that’s an understatement, but it doesn’t matter. You stood up for me, and I’ll be honest, that’s just never happened.” Taking Kara’s good hand, she led her back to the couch and sat her down, perching on the coffee table across from her. She reached for the hand wrapped in the towel, carefully opening it up to inspect its condition. “Oh, honey. This looks bad. Maybe we should go to the hospital too?”

  Kara shook her head. “I don’t think anything’s broken. Even if it is, I’m not going to walk around with those stupid finger splints on. I think your first intuition was right. All I need is a little ice, and the Tylenol,” she added, lifting the bottle Joanne had left behind.

  Madeleine was up and off to the bar where she collected bottled water and dished out the pills. Then she headed for the bathroom, soaking a washcloth in cold water and grabbing more towels. Back in the living room of the opulent suite, she sat down next to Kara and placing the wounded hand in her lap, began her careful ministrations.

  Mostly quiet, Kara sat, deeply concentrating on Madeleine’s face, her gestures, and the tiny line at the corner of her mouth which would deepen whenever her brows tightened. What an incredible beauty. How many ad campaigns had Kara run, dissatisfied that she couldn’t find someone with the type of appeal that both men and women would react to? The thought made her question whether her ideal woman was based on a form of advertising or her own attraction to Madeleine. “Why did you kiss me?”

  Pausing in her work, Madeleine searched her face for an answer or perhaps the cause of the question. Turning her attention back to the wounded hand, she finished cleaning up the blood that had clearly come from someone else since the skin on Kara’s knuckles wasn’t broken, adding ice and wrapping a fresh towel around it. Finished, she sat back, still protectively holding the towel-wrapped hand. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. Honestly, I don’t know why I kissed you. I just, I just wanted to.”

  It seemed such a strange idea to Kara. Attraction. She’d been attracted to plenty of other women, hadn’t she? Yes of course, but had it been like this? No. Never. “Did you like it? Kissing me, I mean?” She watched a slow smile spread over Madeleine’s face, followed by her rising color. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “What about you? I mean, you’re the one with the experience and…”

  Kara leaned in, offering the soft renewal of the enticing kiss they had shared in the restaurant, not to mention the mini-make-out session that followed outside in the parked Cobra. Coming up for air and leaning back she finally admitted, “I could kiss you forever.”

  “You mean that?”

  “I realize you don’t know me well, at least not yet. The one thing I can guarantee is I will always tell you what I mean. And you can ask me to explain anything you want, any way you like.”

  Madeleine was quiet for a long time. She still held Kara’s hand, but her eyes roamed the suite as if looking for an answer. “Is that your room?” she asked. When Kara nodded, she was on her feet, gently tugging the towel-wrapped hand. “Please tell me you’re not in too much pain?”

  Caught off guard and a little overwhelmed, Kara’s comprehension was slow. As the meaning of the question dawned on her, she watched as Madeleine’s smile traveled from her mouth to her eyes. “No pain. Just a little awkward,” she confessed.

  Unperturbed, Madeleine led her to the bedroom, closing the double doors and locking them. This isn’t called for in the script. So no one can call me a whore!
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  Then she stalled, extremely aroused but unsure how to proceed. Kara, still holding her hand, led her silently and sat her on the edge of the bed. Stepping between her thighs, Kara leaned down, and holding Madeleine’s face in her hand, she locked eyes with her and said, her tone kind and reassuring, “You can change your mind any time. All I need is your honesty.” Then delivered a soft, tentative kiss.

  The promise of the passion behind the gentle kiss was more than enough to push any hesitation from her mind. So when Kara pulled away, she felt disappointment. Then understood. She was waiting for a reply. Kara needed her to say she wanted this.

  “Kara,” she said, “please, you’re torturing me.”

  That made her smile. There was no denying the kindness in her eyes. Get on the bed and get on me was all she could think. But Kara stepped back and slowly began to unbutton her shirt. Dumping it unceremoniously on the floor, she followed that with her bra. A moment later her pants. Then she stood. Waiting.

  Standing, Madeleine reached for Kara’s hands, lifting the unwrapped one to her face. “You’re beautiful, Kara Wexler.”

  Beautiful was not a description that ever applied to Kara. Even with her workout schedule and weekly rowing practice, working sixty hours a week in an office had added pounds around her thighs and hips. No, with her mousy brown hair, and the extra twenty pounds she was carrying, she would not be considered a beautiful woman by any standard. “I’m not beautiful. But this is me, and God knows you are gorgeous and the most amazing woman I have ever met. The truth is, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  Those words almost made Madeleine cry. When had a lover ever cared about her needs? Moving closer, she wrapped her arms around her. If her words were not enough, she’d show her.

  There was something about kissing Kara. Exploring her mouth, and feeling her tongue explore her own was earth-shattering. The feel of the woman in her arms was the end of her composure. Her knees began to buckle. Kara held on, her strong arms lowering her to the bed. Kara unbuttoned her blouse and discarded it along with the pretty lace bralette. Kara was on her knees, kneeling between her legs, still kissing her, still holding her. Kara’s good hand traced over her small breasts. She moaned her pleasure through their kiss. Finally, Madeleine said, “There’s not much there.”