“And that’s why what you said hurt so bad. I was married to and loved a beautiful woman who I don’t think ever loved me the same way and is with a younger man in our bed tonight, I’m sure. And then I met you and I started thinking for the first time since all this shit started happening that life might not be so terrible. And then you tell me that I was just a job. Nothing more.”
She hadn’t said a word, but she hadn’t pulled away. I dropped her hand from mine.
“And that’s the story. And my apology. I’m sorry I kept you away from your friends and your party. I’ll head back now. And I really will try to stay out of your way for the rest of the trip. It’s only a few days.”
“You weren’t just a job, Mr. Maitland,” she said. She stepped into me and before I knew it she was searching for my tonsils with her tongue. I returned the favor
Somebody, I think it was the science fiction writer Robert Heinlein in one of his books for younger readers, once wrote that ‘girls don’t have bones,’ because it feels that way when you’re kissing one. Guys are all sharp angles, hard surfaces. Girls are soft and round and where they’re the softest and roundest is where they’re the most fun. I had read that when I discovered his books in the 7th grade and I’d never forgotten that description.
That’s the way the woman in my arms felt in this moment. I remembered watching her across the way the other night in that moment of the storm and feeling that I had stepped out of my old life. I felt the same way now. This was not Debbie. I had to keep reminding myself. She felt, and smelled and tasted different. And she was in my arms and she was playing tonsil hockey. This could not be happening.
She broke the kiss and stepped back from me, then reached out with one finger to rub her lipstick from my lips. I tasted mint. Debbie had never tasted of mint.
“I accept your apology, Mr. Maitland, William.”
“William is my name, but my friends call me Bill.”
“I accept your apology, Bill. If I had known, I would not have acted like such a bitch. I know what it is like to love someone like that, and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if he were to betray me in such a fashion.”
I touched my lips.
“Then why...how?”
“Friends don’t kiss in your country?”
“Not like that.”
She smiled in the darkness and I felt something cold and hard deep within myself begin to crack and I told myself, “You will not fall for this married woman.”
“But I am French, and you are standing on a piece of French soil, We do things differently here.”
Then, “the party continues. Come inside and have something to eat and drink. We can talk.”
She held her hand out to me and, knowing this was going to lead to disaster, I took her hand and followed her into the Alpha Lounge.
Monday, July 18, 2005 -- 12:45 A.M.
Debbie rolled to her back and gasped for air.
“My God.....”
Doug placed one large hand on her breast and squeezed it rhythmically.
“My God is right. You have got to be the hottest woman in the Western World. It’s been more than three months and every time I get inside you it feels like the first time all over. That’s never happened with any woman I’ve been with.”
She couldn’t help smiling a little.
“Doug, you’ve already got me. You don’t have to keep seducing me.”
“It’s the truth.”
He squeezed her breast again and said, “You want to...”
She shook her head.
“Jesus Christ, Doug, it’s going to fall off if you keep using it. I’d forgotten what it was like to be with a young man. But...I...I’m tired. I’ve got to go in for that early morning department meeting at 8. You can stay here tonight. Kelly and BJ shouldn’t be back here until late afternoon, but I want you out of here before they get here.”
“I should be up and out by 9 at the latest. I’ll try to avoid Little Miss Hot Pants...”
“Doug....”
“I was just teasing. I don’t want to have her catch me alone here either, Deb.”
“Make sure she doesn’t. She and Bill Jr. are both spending the night out so there shouldn’t be any chance of your crossing paths with either of them.”
“You sure you....”
“No, Doug. It was great, but I have got to get some sleep. Anyway...”
“Don’t tell me, now you’re worried about Bill again. Or guilty. Or both.”
“It’s stupid, but...I’m here with you and Bill hasn’t been with anybody that I know of. And now he’s alone on that cruise ship with a bunch of honeymooners and people are probably getting laid all around him and I can’t see Bill getting into that. Or him having any luck getting somebody into bed.”
“Deb, people change. Just because the two of you lost it, doesn’t mean there isn’t ANYBODY that would fuck him. Shit, I’ve been on those cruises. Must be something about the sea air. A hunchback dwarf could get laid. Trust me, I’ll bet he’s banging some horny broad right now. You’ll see. He’ll come back relaxed and a lot more human. That’s probably a lot of what’s been wrong with him. He just hasn’t gotten any ass in a long time. That will make anybody grumpy.”
“Probably.”
Which should have been reassuring, but as she turned in the bed to spoon against Doug’s lean, muscular frame, she wondered why the thought of Bill with another woman was more than a little disturbing. It wasn’t jealousy. But...
Monday, July 18, 2005 – 2:15 A.M.
The Alpha Lounge was smoky as hell. The French would never give up their cigarettes and while they might comply with U.S. health laws in public sections, any purely French bastion was going to be awash in carcinogens. It seemed like every crewmember, except Aline, was puffing away and half the invited guests were as well.
I thought about dropping to the floor to get a gasp of fresh air, but Aline hadn’t let go of my hand since we had entered the Lounge. I felt like a high school kid trooping along behind his girlfriend, which was at the same time embarrassing and a source of pride. I saw the way most of the male staffers and a few of the male guests stared at her, and then at me, and I realized there wasn’t a one of them that didn’t want to be the one holding her hand.
A male and female were on piano and guitar and playing everything from 60s American oldies to some things that sounded like they might have been sung by Édith Piaf in the 50s and maybe Billie Holiday in the late 30s. I thought I recognized “La Vie en Rose.” I’d always liked that.
They had a bartender and a fully stocked bar as well as a table groaning with what looked like caviar, lobster tails, what was probably Duck a l’Orange in a thick sauce and, if I didn’t know any better, trays of what had to be escargot.
I’d been introduced to escargot on my first trip to Paris and oddly enough for a Florida boy who came from a small West Virginia mining community, I loved them.
Aline led me first to the food table where I grabbed a few escargot to her amazement, spooned up some caviar.
“Are you sure you’re not French?”
She dragged me around to introduce me to staff and guests, making sure she held my hand. We were greeted with knowing glances. One male staffer was sitting in a chair near the side of the lounge and doing everything but impregnating a half-naked woman about 20 years his senior in the chair. Aline slipped up next to him and kicked him in the calf. He tore his mouth away from the woman’s neck which he’d been nuzzling.
“René, get a room.”
He started to say something, then sheepishly pulled the older woman to her feet and took her out of the lounge.
She looked at me with an embarrassed expression.
“This is not a private orgy for staff and guests. Some...romancing... takes place on every trip, but staff and especially male staff are warned to be discreet. He was being a pig. He’s fortunate the captain or one of the upper echelon officers didn’t pop in.”
As we walked I finished
the Hors d’œuvre I’d grabbed and Aline pulled me toward the open area in front of the musical duo. They were playing something vaguely Spanish and thrilling, but it was okay for slow dancing.
“Dance with me,” she said and molded her body next to mine. She was as tall as me and rested her chin and neck on the side of my face. I had never been any great shakes as a dancer, but I was able to move her and myself around the floor without stepping on her toes. I could feel what I knew were nipples popping up and rubbing in circular patterns against my chest.
For the first time in months I felt stirrings and my pants began to get tight in an area that wasn’t usually affected. I felt again like a 7th grader getting a hard-on at a school dance, terrified to step away from the girl I held because my condition would be obvious, but also petrified that my condition was so obvious I’d rub it all over my partner and she’d slap my face or run screaming.
She whispered into my ear, “It’s alright. I’d be a little insulted if I had no effect on you.”
I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on abstruse mathematical problems.
After awhile, when my condition had abated, she took my hand and led me to the bar, where I ordered a Bloody Mary, what else, and she a white wine.
As we stood there drinking and talking, a tall redheaded woman in a dress with what looked like hundreds of thousands of dollars of real diamonds and gemstones embroidered into the fabric walked up to Aline and, glancing at me, asked, “Aline, darling, who is your friend? Your very close friend, it appears. Do you realize you haven’t let go of him since you two walked in here?”
“Ms. Stein, let me introduce you to Mr. William Maitland. He is a barrister.”
She looked at me with only a little disdain and asked, “An attorney? Mergers and acquisitions, stocks, international affairs? Entertainment? Are you located in New York or Los Angeles. Who do you represent? Anyone I’d have heard of?”
“Criminal law,” I answered before Aline could say anything. “And I represent clients who’ve been murdered, raped, robbed or maimed.”
She looked at me and her jaw almost literally dropped.
“Criminal law? Murder and rape and robbery?”
“Fraid so. Not as exciting as corporate or entertainment, but somebody has to do it.”
Aline fought to hide her smile.
Mrs. Stein, whose big breasts and nice behind had obviously been poured into her dazzling dress, took a deep breath and purred, “A prosecutor. You know...I think...you are The Angel of Death. Aren’t you? I saw your story on a web news site. “
She stepped between Aline and myself and grabbed my free hand, placing it squarely over a heaving mound of soft breast flesh.
“That is so exciting. When I saw your picture, all in black, you looked...hard...and powerful. Are you that hard...and powerful...in all areas of your life, Mr. Maitland?”
Without being too obvious, Aline pulled me toward her and at the same time interposed her body between myself and Mrs. Stein. With a sweet smile, she said, ‘I’m afraid that is all media hyperbole, Ms. Stein. Mr. Maitland is a very sweet man in all ways. Oh, Bill, didn’t you say you had an early appointment tomorrow? I’m so sorry, Ms. Stein, but I’d better get Bill out of here.”
With that she whisked me away before the diamond lady could spell out an objection. We approached the outside rail and I just raised my eyebrows. Aline laughed and said, “I’m sorry, but in another moment she would have been unzipping you.”
I felt like I was 18 again and couldn’t help asking, “And that would be a bad thing—why?”
The smile flickered.
“You would have wanted that fat old cow touching you?”
“Not her.”
I stared into her eyes and she dropped her gaze. I would have sworn she blushed.
I didn’t know where the dialogue was coming from. I should be tongue tied and awkward, but I was able to spar with this gorgeous woman in the eternal joust that was male/female relationships. I began to wonder if the 20 year-old I had once been had just been sleeping for the past 20 something years and had decided to come back to life. Or if it was simply being around this woman.
I turned back to look at the waves dropping away in our wake. The stars were brilliant points in a jet-black sky. There were no clouds. A fat, gibbous, almost completely full moon hung seemingly over the stern of the ship, looking big enough and close enough to touch.
The moonlight washed across her face. It made her flesh look more than living stone than human flesh.
“She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that’s best of dark and bright, Meets in her aspect and her eyes…”
“You remember your Byron. Do you use that line often with impressionable young ladies?”
“I might have, once, 20 years or so ago. I don’t know why I said that. It just came out.. Something about the way you look tonight brought it out.”
I put my hand on the side of her face and she leaned into me.
“Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t do this,” the better angels of my nature screamed at me as I leaned forward and captured her lips.
This wasn’t a frantic, tongue twisting against tongue kiss like the first one we had shared. This was soft and yielding and there was only a little tongue.
I thought back to Debbie and I wondered when was the last time we had shared a sweet, loving kiss. Not a husband/wife kiss, but one like this. Where had those kisses gone?
“Go away Debbie,” I said in my mind, casting out the ghost of really good and really bad times. She was my past and she had no right to keep dragging me back to a life she had shattered.
I finally got the willpower to push Aline away gently. I tasted mint on my lips. What in the hell was I doing?
“I’m sorry, Aline. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Sorry for what? It was just a kiss.”
“I’m still a married man, for awhile longer. And you apparently are happily married.”
“Most men learn when they’re in their teens...if a woman doesn’t tell you to stop, she probably wants you to keep going.”
She resumed the kiss and this time it was a harder, more insistent kiss. She pressed herself against me and again I started to get hard. Just my luck. I’d been limp for more than three months and the one time I start to get hard, it’s with a woman that I can’t use it on. Or, at least, I shouldn’t.
As the kiss continued she moved so that she was pressed against me and I know she was deliberately rubbing her groin against me. They say a stiff dick has no conscience. Mine did, but not enough willpower. I pushed back against her and she moaned in her throat.
I had to stop this....but she had said, she was French. And we were on French soil. And they did things differently here.
Where in the world is it okay to bed a married woman when her husband is far away? No country I was aware of.
I finally summoned up the strength from God knows where to push her back. We became unattached and we both tried to catch our breath.
“Before we retire, would you like to walk the ship, Bill? It is a different world in the early, early morning. Almost all the passengers are in their beds soundly sleeping and the staff is either sleeping or working below decks preparing for the coming day. It is as if we have the ship to ourselves. As if we are in our own little world.”
Walking was better than remaining here because if we stayed here, I was afraid that my dick would not only lose any shred of willpower it still had, but my conscience was also going to retire for the night.
And that would mean one of two things: the first that I would further insult and possibly lose the chance to spend time with this woman, because it was possible this was just the way married French women flirted with male friends and she didn’t really want my middle-aged body in bed with her.
Or worse, we would wind up in bed, and if that happened, how was I any different from Doug?
We went back in through the door that ha
d been propped open and replaced the metal bar. As we walked past the Lounge entrance, I heard music and what sounded like loud female moaning.
She gave me a small smile.
“When it gets very late, I’m afraid things sometimes get a bit...wild.”
“Well, Heaven knows, we don’t want to be in there right now. It might be...catching.”
She just poked me in the ribs with her elbow and said, “Are you sure you’re just an old married man? Or is that a ploy you use to throw suspicious women off their guard around you?”
“I was...more married than you can imagine. ‘Was’ being the operative word.”
We went down the elevator to the sixth deck and walked out to the bow of the ship. Now I could imagine we could see lights in the far distance, many miles away. Then I realized it was light, but not the constant light of buildings or the winking light of buoys.
This was a faint flickering of light that seemed to grow from the horizon into the dark sky, and then snaked back, casting a pale aura in all directions. Since we were heading for Marsh Harbour I figured the lights were coming from that direction.
“It is storming over Abaco,” she said. “That is lightning. It should be ending by the time we get close.”
“Is there anything that happens out here that isn’t flat out beautiful?”
Despite the distance, I felt the first few drops of rain begin to pelt us. I didn’t consciously think out what I did, but I held my arm up and she moved into it. We stood together watching the lightning without words as the breeze picked up.
“Why did you accept the babysitting assignment, Aline, really? If you hadn’t, there is no way we’d be here right now, like this? I know you wouldn’t have given me a second glance.”
“Why do you do that?”
She placed her hand over mine.
“I know women have approached you, despite the pall you cast about you. And you turn every one down. You assumed I was interested in you simply because I had taken on the assignment of watching you. Why do you automatically believe no woman could be attracted to you, for yourself?”
The Long Fall Page 37