The Girls of Mischief Bay

by Susan Mallery

  Their home was an old Spanish-style bungalow built in the 1930s. The walls were thick, the ceilings high and the rooms designed to maximize cool ocean breezes.

  There had been a handful of owners. The last one—a guy in the movie industry—had redone the kitchen and a bathroom before losing everything in a film he’d backed that had flopped. He’d listed the house at 1.2 million. While it only had three bedrooms, a tiny office and two bathrooms, it was still four blocks from the beach and in Mischief Bay.

  Nicole had seen it at the first open house. She’d fallen in love with the tidy little backyard, the lemon tree that provided shade and the original touches, including beamed ceilings and arched windows. But with its price tag, it might as well have been a hundred million dollars. There was simply no way.

  Within a few weeks, there had been a couple of offers, a home inspection, then the revelation of the equivalent of suburban black plague: mold. Mold was found in one of the closets. The deal had fallen through and the house had been abandoned for months.

  She’d watched the price drop and drop. Jokingly she’d told the real estate agent when it hit the mid-threes, she would risk it, mold and all. One day she got a call.

  Armed with an experienced mold-eradicating guy, she’d faced down the enemy. He’d scraped and tested and sent samples to a lab back east. The results had stunned her. It wasn’t mold. The black growing mess was instead decomposing wallpaper from the 1930s. Suddenly she had a bargain on her hands.

  Using every penny she’d saved and some very creative financing, she’d bought the house. About a month after she closed escrow, the economy collapsed and the housing bubble with it. Nicole knew she never would have qualified without the loan she’d received, but she didn’t care. She had the house and thanks to the faux mold, she wasn’t even close to underwater on it.

  She’d met Eric a few months later and the rest was history.

  She turned her attention back to the kitchen and with it, her life as it was today. She would try harder, she vowed. Would reach out to her husband. His writing the screenplay was a given. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be happy together. She just had to find a way to make that happen.

  * * *

  “You sure about this?” John asked.

  Pam leaned back in her seat and watched as they drove east toward Palm Desert. “Not really, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. At least the hotel is nice.”

  Now that they were going to their relationship-find-the-passion-weekend, she was having some serious second thoughts. What a ridiculous idea. Yet, she was reluctant to say they should turn back. Because they needed something to add a little zing to their lives. Everything was so routine.

  “I went and saw Hayley this morning,” she said. “She’s doing better and she’ll be back at work on Monday.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “I know. It’s so hard to watch her go through this.” Harder still for Hayley and her husband to have to deal with it, she thought.

  John reached across the console and patted her leg. “We were lucky with our kids.”

  “We were. Lingering morning sickness and me getting fat. That was it.”

  “You were never fat.”

  “I was a porker with Jen.”

  “Never. You were beautiful. Still are.”

  He spoke without looking at her, his attention on the road. But she had a feeling he wasn’t teasing or being polite. In his mind, she had been beautiful. Silly man—although as far as flaws went, it was a really good one.

  “I told you my friend Shannon is dating Adam Lewis.”

  “Did you?” He glanced at her. “I don’t think I knew that. Good for her. Adam’s a great guy.”

  “I know. I hope it works out. Shannon doesn’t say much, but I get the feeling she wants to be in a serious relationship. She looks amazing, but she’s close to forty and she’s never been married. I know she likes kids. But to be starting at that age…”

  He grimaced. “I agree. If we’d done that, Brandon would only be what? Four? To think we had all of that ahead of us.”

  “I wouldn’t have the energy,” Pam admitted. “Plus I’d worry more. When I was in my twenties, I did the best I could, but I didn’t know that much.”

  “With years comes experience,” he said. “I’m glad Jen and Kirk are starting their family now.”

  “Me, too. Kirk can’t go with her to her first doctor’s appointment, so she wants me to go with her.”

  “I’m glad you can be there for her.”

  “Me, too.”

  She looked at him. He was so steady, she thought. So concerned about others. A genuinely nice man. He liked sports and loved his country and his family. He was honest in business. She’d been lucky to find him, she realized, thinking of Shannon and even Nicole, who was going through hell with Eric.

  “I want you to know I appreciate all you’ve given me,” she blurted.

  Her husband turned to her. “What are you talking about?” he asked before returning his attention to the road. “What have I given you?”

  “A wonderful life. Three great kids. A beautiful home. Lulu.”

  “I didn’t give you those things, Pam. We’re a partnership. You’ve got my back and I’ve got yours.” He reached across the console again, this time taking her hand in his. “I’m a lucky man.”

  “I’m lucky, too.”

  Palm Desert was a lush and green oasis in the middle of brown desert. Golf courses surrounded upscale communities. The shopping was elegant, the dining fine and the hotel where the retreat was being held looked like some billionaire’s idea of a rustic castle.

  Pam had booked them into a suite. There was a living room with a deep sofa and large fireplace. The master had a huge bed, views of the mountains and a stunning marble bath. The tub was big enough for five. Maybe using it would be one of their homework assignments, Pam thought as she stared at it. She couldn’t remember the last time she and John had taken a bath together.

  They unpacked, then headed down for the evening’s meet-and-mingle with their fellow attendees. Signs led them to a cozy room with French doors that led onto a patio lit by glowing tiki lamps. There was a bar on one side and a light buffet on the other.

  Pam held on to John’s hand as they entered. Her first impression was that everyone was gorgeous. The second and more startling was that no one looked to be over thirty-five.

  She turned to her husband. “Oh, no. We’re the oldest people in the room.”

  John glanced around and then started to laugh. He tugged her close and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Then good for us.”

  While she applauded his attitude, she wasn’t sure she could be so casual about the very obvious fact. Were the younger women looking at her? Judging her? Imagining that no man would ever want to see her naked? Except John, of course. But he loved her so did that count?

  They crossed to the bar. She got a vodka tonic while he chose a Scotch. Conversation was quiet. Most of the couples were standing around awkwardly, with only a few actually mingling. About twenty minutes later, a couple in their late thirties walked in. Pam recognized them from the website.

  “That’s them,” she whispered to John. “The ones leading the weekend.”

  “Hi, everyone,” the woman said. “I’m Vivian and this is my husband, David. Welcome to our seminar weekend.”

  There were a few murmured greetings, but nothing too enthusiastic.

  They
were attractive. Both blond, fit and tanned. He was in jeans and a button-down shirt, while she had on a pretty summer dress.

  David smiled at them. “We want this to be a safe place for you and your partner. There are no judgments, no criticisms. Just information and suggestions. We want you to have fun and we want you to learn something. And to answer the question you’ve all been wondering but didn’t want to ask—no. You will not be performing in front of the group.”

  Several people chuckled.

  Pam felt her mouth drop open. That question had never occurred to her. If it had, she wouldn’t have signed them up in the first place. This had been a mistake, she thought as she looked around. A really stupid mistake.

  “We’re going to start with an easy game,” Vivian said. “We’ll go around the room and everyone will say their name and share one sexual fantasy.”

  “Just one?” one guy yelled.

  Vivian grinned. “If we have time, we’ll come back to you for a second one.”

  John leaned down and pressed his mouth to her ear. “This is going to be fun,” he whispered.

  Fun? This was his idea of fun? She didn’t want to share a sexual fantasy with the group. She hadn’t ever shared one with her husband. Did she even have any?

  Her traitorous mind immediately went to Lulu’s vet. No, she couldn’t mention him or his dreamy eyes. Besides, her crush on Dr. Ingersoll was more mental than physical. She’d never imagined them having sex.

  Vivian pointed to the couple closest. “Why don’t you start?”

  The woman giggled and blushed. “I’m Amanda. My fantasy is making love with two guys.”

  Her partner, an equally young, equally buff man, put his arm around her. “I’m Jeff and my fantasy is two girls.”

  “I see we’re going to have some work here,” David said easily. “Nice to meet you both. Next?”

  Pam tried to pay attention to the names, but was too busy frantically searching her brain for a fantasy. When it was her turn, she went totally blank.

  “Um, I’m Pam and my fantasy is to, ah, make love on a beach.”

  Lame, she thought grimly. Totally lame. Talk about sounding like everyone’s grandmother.

  “I’m John and I’m happy to know my wife’s fantasy wasn’t about spanking.”

  Several people laughed.

  “Because you want that for yourself?” Vivian asked with a wink.

  “No. My fantasy is to do it as much as I want for a whole week.”

  Several of the guys clapped. David pointed to the next couple. Pam stood where she was, her drink in her hand and guilt settling over her like a thick, heavy weight.

  Was that really his fantasy? It was such a small thing, she thought sadly. Because she knew what he meant. He didn’t just want access, so to speak. He wanted an eager, willing partner. One who wasn’t always “in her head.” He wanted his wife to be excited about him, about them. Maybe this weekend would help her give him everything he wanted, in more ways than one.

  * * *

  Dinner at the resort was a quiet affair. Pam was relieved to discover they were going to dine as couples, rather than as a group. After she and John had eaten their fill of steak and red wine, they returned to their room. John settled in front of the TV and picked up the remote.

  While he clicked channels, Pam checked her phone. Jen had texted a picture of Lulu curled up on Kirk’s lap. Man and dog both looked happy.

  “Pam?”

  She turned and saw John staring at the TV with the strangest expression on his face. Not shock, exactly. More bewilderment.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He pointed to the TV. She walked over and stared.

  As her eyes focused, he turned up the sound.

  A naked woman lay on a bed, while an equally naked man lay next to her, on his side. She was shaved completely bare and the camera angle gave them a clear view of her privates.

  The man put his hand on the woman’s thigh. The voice-over, a soft-spoken British man, continued.

  “Explore your partner’s genitals slowly and gently. Start at the top and go down one side, before making the return journey. Men, it is your nature to go directly for the clitoris, but women often prefer a more circuitous route.

  “If your partner isn’t yet swollen and wet, a lubricant can be used.”

  “It’s not porn,” Pam murmured. They’d watched porn a couple of times and while it was sort of interesting, it had never been their thing.

  “Oh, there’s porn.”

  He changed the channel and they were immediately assaulted by a shot of an incredibly huge penis sliding in and out of another man’s anus.

  “There’s girl-on-girl and heterosexual couples,” he added.

  “Something for everyone.” She cleared her throat. “Is there regular TV?”

  “Not that I can find.”

  Someone knocked on their suite door. John and Pam looked at each other. John quickly turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the coffee table. He looked as guilty as a teenager caught reading Playboy at his grandmother’s house.

  She was still smiling when she opened the door to find perky Vivian standing there.

  “Hi,” their instructor said. “This is for you.” Vivian handed over a large gift basket. “And just a reminder, there’s no TV for the whole weekend. If you’re looking for entertainment or inspiration, we’re running several instructional videos, along with different kinds of erotic movies.”

  “Is that what we’re calling it?” Pam asked before she could stop herself.

  Vivian grinned. “Try a couple. You might surprise yourself.”

  “Thanks.” Pam closed the door, then carried the basket over to the small dining table. “We have a gift.”

  John got up and walked over. “No TV?”

  “I know, honey. You’ll have to stream CNN on your iPad.”

  She untied the ribbon holding the crinkly wrap over the basket. The opaque paper fell away.

  “This we can use,” John said as he picked up a bottle of champagne. “I’m getting the glasses.”

  Pam nodded without speaking. She picked up a bottle of what she thought was some kind of ice cream topping. Only the label showed breasts and promised a delicious, licking treat. There were also masks, blindfolds, velvet-covered handcuffs and the biggest dildo she’d ever seen in her life. Not that she’d seen very many, but still.

  There were rings and balls and other things that were just plain confusing. Where did they go and what did they do when they got there?

  She picked up what was obviously a vibrator. It was bright pink, in the form of a small beaver next to a large tree.

  “What on earth is this?” she asked.

  John handed her a glass of champagne. “Are there instructions?”

  “For some things, not this.”

  He took it from her and turned the base. Immediately the tree began to vibrate while the beaver head moved in a circular motion. John’s smile widened.

  “We are so taking this for a test drive.”

  Eleven

  “That should do it,” Nolan said. “Thank you all for your hard work.”

  Shannon gathered her notes. The monthly senior staff meetings were always grueling. Four or five hours of every department reporting what was going on. Results were compared to benchmarks and then conversation ensued.

  She minded the long meetings less than most. Her department had been in such di
sarray when she’d first been hired that there hadn’t been anywhere to go but up. Nolan, her boss and the owner of the company, had given her free rein in hiring and firing. She’d taken advantage of both. Over the past five years, she’d cleaned out the people who couldn’t or wouldn’t do the job the way she wanted and brought in bright, motivated staff. The finance side of things was now a well-oiled, money-handling machine.

  The receivables cycle had been reduced from over ninety days to an average of thirty-two. Loans were consolidated, interest rates negotiated down and she’d played hardball with their bank until she’d gotten the terms she wanted for all their business.

  “Shannon, would you stay a second?” Nolan asked, pushing up his glasses as he spoke.

  “Sure.”

  She smiled at her colleagues as they left. A couple gave her sympathetic glances, but she wasn’t worried. She and Nolan had a good working relationship. He was brilliant when it came to software and an idiot everywhere else. The difference between him and most almost-successful entrepreneurs was that he understood that his skill set was limited. He was willing to find the best and brightest to handle the rest of the business, freeing him to do what he did best.

  She knew that wasn’t always the case. When she’d still worked for a large bank, she’d seen dozens of brilliant businesspeople fail because they couldn’t let go of control. Every small business had potential, but to get to the tipping point of making millions, there had to be a plan. And one person couldn’t do it all.

  Nolan had been different. He’d started out as a client, then they’d become friends. She’d helped him write a business plan to take his company to the next level and the one after that. When he’d offered her the job as CFO, she’d taken about ten minutes to make up her mind.

  Now he looked at her and grimaced. “I’m going to have to fire Ted,” he grumbled.

  Ted, the head of operations, had missed every target for the quarter.

  “You are,” she said gently. “I know it’s not going to be easy.”