Dancing in the Dark

by Linda Cajio

  She thought about the way his hands had roamed her body so desperately and the desire in his gaze. “Ahh … we discussed it at length.”

  Everyone nodded, clearly finding this good news.

  “He also said,” Charity went on, “that we must get the work in, new accounts, anything that can increase our cash flow and productivity. He said that even if he gets the benefits back—especially if he does—and the work isn’t materializing, we’ll have to face some other hard choices … like streamlining personnel.”

  “What!” Hard grumbles went around again. Not only did no one like that idea, they all thought it was nonsense. She wondered what they would say about upper management keeping their health benefits and decided not to be the one to tell them. Things were bad enough, and maybe Jake would be able to get theirs back.

  Charity sighed. It was going to be a long day.

  Eight

  “How was War and Peace?”

  Jake grinned as Charity slid into the passenger side of his car. He shut the book on page 50 and kissed her hello. “Not bad. Pierre could do with a few men’s movement lessons.”

  “Oh, Lord,” she muttered, settling her own books on her lap.

  He started up the car. “How was class?”

  “Okay. I’ve got several spreadsheets I have to analyze before next week.” She sighed. “I can squeeze that in between brushing my teeth and flossing. There’s five seconds of free time in there, I think.”

  “Charity, if this government project is too much …”

  “No,” she said quickly. “As I told you, if we get that project, it’s going to look very good on my résumé. That’ll be worth it.”

  He nodded, relieved. It was nice to worry about someone. As she let him more and more into her life, he would be able to watch out for her even better. The kind of watching that didn’t mean she couldn’t take care of herself, but the kind of watching that came from caring. He cared very much, more than he had ever expected. But he wasn’t about to press her yet.

  He drove out of the parking lot and toward Milton. The conversation was about nothing in particular, just easy talk, until they neared the town.

  “I know it’s late,” Jake began, “but will you come to my place for coffee?”

  She was silent for a long time.

  “Would you rather go to your house for coffee?” he asked at last. “Or a diner? I just thought my house was a little more private for you. It’s up to you if you’re ready to reveal our relationship to the world.”

  She didn’t say anything to that, only asking, “Are we talking about just coffee?”

  He was silent for a moment. “No. But if coffee is all you’d like, I suppose I can live with it.”

  She looked down at her hands. “I know we’ve opened floodgates, Jake …”

  “But you’re cautious.” He drew in a deep breath, hating this. But he knew that now he really had to let her set the pace. “Okay, just coffee and no pressure.”

  She chuckled. “You? No pressure?”

  “Hey, I can do no pressure.” He turned down his street. “The point is, can you handle no pressure?”

  This time her pause was revealing, then she said, “Yes.”

  He just grinned.

  Inside his house he made coffee and they talked about Wayans. He felt as if they’d talked about the company more than enough on the ride to her class, and at work that day and every day, and last night, and before and before. The truth was, he wasn’t looking forward to his conference call tomorrow. He told himself not to be pessimistic about his chances of success. If one were pessimistic, one was sure to contribute to failure. First rule of Genghis Khan.

  Charity finally set her empty coffee cup on the kitchen table. “It’s time to go.”

  Jake breathed out deeply. “Okay.”

  He set their cups in the sink. When he turned, she was waiting at the kitchen threshold. Together they walked down the foyer. He was close enough to be aware of every inch of her body. He didn’t touch her. He wanted to so badly, his fingers actually curled into his palms and his stomach clenched with tension. All of this should be done now, he thought. Instead, his uncertainty about her was worse.

  “Thanks for driving me,” she said, “and thanks for the coffee.” She added in a lower voice, “And thanks for understanding.”

  He nodded and reached for the doorknob. So did she.

  Their hands touched. Jake shuddered at the warmth that suddenly encompassed him. Raising his gaze, he found her staring at him, all of her emotions in her eyes. She melted into his arms, her mouth fierce on his, almost taking him by surprise with her intensity. Almost.

  His tongue met hers instantly, eagerly, swirling around in a sensual duel. He dragged her against him until every inch of her was being absorbed by him. Her hands clenched at his shoulders with a desperate need that matched his own. He forgot everything and melded with her, knowing he was home.

  • • •

  “Well?”

  Charity watched as Jake grimaced and looked everywhere except at her. She’d been delegated yet again to speak with him about the health benefits. Somehow everyone had gotten it into their heads that she was the best one for the job. A few people had made snide comments about her “relationship” with the boss, but they didn’t question her integrity. She supposed it was because this affected her as much as it did them, and she wouldn’t be that stupid to give away her own benefits with her love.

  Her heart lurched at the word. She did love him, and she couldn’t keep away from him. After years of careful guarding, she had put her heart directly in harm’s way.

  “Jake,” she said when the silence and her thoughts got too uncomfortable. It didn’t bode well that he was reluctant to tell her whatever happened in his conference call with the Wayans board.

  His gaze focused on her. A carefully neutral expression replaced his normally intense one.

  “The board isn’t happy with me,” he began.

  She raised her eyebrows. “It didn’t hurt your job, did it?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, and I’m not worried about that. Much as I would hate to lose this one when I’ve barely gotten projects off the ground, I can always get another job. But they did concede some of the benefits back.”

  She smiled, relieved. “They did? Great! Some, you said. What did they drop? The dental plan? The eyeglasses? The pharmacy?”

  “Not what, love. Who.”

  The endearment swam past her, lifting her for one instant before it was engulfed by the bombshell of a pronoun.

  “Who?” she echoed. “What do you mean who?”

  “They’re keeping the benefits for married men with dependents and those employees who have preexisting conditions.”

  “Wha—” Dimly, Charity sensed that her mouth had fallen open in shock. “But … but …”

  He nodded. “I know. That still leaves out the single men and pretty much all the women.”

  “But that’s most of the company!” She couldn’t believe it. “That can’t even be legal, surely.”

  “Well, it may be questionable,” he hedged.

  “Jake, you can’t be serious about supporting this,” she said, rising to her feet.

  He stood and leaned against his desk. “Hell, no, I don’t support it. I told them this was even more stupid, and they damn near took it back! I pushed them hard, Charity, and I was lucky to get this much out of them. Even if it’s not legal, they gave back something. That’s the most important point right now. They’ll give back the rest … if they’re pushed in the right way.”

  “But what about stripping out the dental plan or the pharmacy plan?”

  “They don’t cost all that much per employee, and they certainly wouldn’t pay for a stripped-down version of the insurance.” He took a breath. “They felt the single men would be less likely to need a health plan. They felt that married women would be covered under their husbands’ plans.”

  “But what about single women with chil
dren?” she asked. “We have several of those.”

  “They felt the children would be covered under their fathers’ plans,” he said in a wooden voice. “And the women could make a claim through their alimony.”

  “What about those who gave up those rights because they already had them here? What about the women whose ex-husbands have stopped paying alimony and child support. And, dammit, what about those children whose mothers have always been single? Or whose fathers never acknowledged them? Georgia Billings, a secretary in office services, is a single mother whose son has spina bifida. His care is beyond her means. What is she supposed to do now?”

  “Billings?” He scribbled on a sheet of paper, then looked up. “Any others?”

  “Every other!” she exclaimed. “Jake, they can’t be serious about this.”

  “They are. They feel they’re being as fair as they can while cutting back costs.”

  “And what about the single women?” she asked. “You haven’t said anything about them.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “They said most of the single women employees were bound to get married and would either leave the company then or would have benefits through their husbands’ plans.”

  “Screwed again,” she snapped, furious with him that he allowed the board to do the women out of their benefits. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I told them this plan is worse,” he said. “But how could I refuse it? At least those in the most need still have their insurance, while I fight to get the rest of you back.”

  She waved her hand. “Mary doesn’t have it, and she’s in need. Or Georgia. Or me, the resident spinster.”

  “And I’ll still be fighting for them.”

  “Will you?” she asked, sarcasm dripping.

  He glared at her. “You ought to know me better than that.”

  “What do I know?” she asked. “That you bug me to death, wear me down so you can get me into bed?”

  He said nothing, his silence its own condemnation of her words. A twinge of shame trickled through her. She did know he would keep after the board for the rest of them. She forced the guilt away, lifting her chin in defiance.

  “I love you, Charity,” he said.

  The words were stunning. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because I can feel you mixing this up with you and me, blaming me for decisions the board made. Because I can feel you’re not going to keep us private from work. Because if I don’t say it now, before you walk out of here, you’ll never want to hear it at all. Because I have to say it, Charity.” He stared straight at her. “Because I do.”

  She slumped back down in the chair. She wanted to deny what he said about how she would feel, but she couldn’t. All her anger was directed at him, not the board.

  He walked over to her and took her hands. “Look, be mad at me as the vice president of Wayans for losing the health benefits. Or be mad at me because of something between you and me. But don’t withhold our relationship because of some stupidity here at the office. If I say I love you at the wrong time, I apologize. But I don’t apologize for saying the words.”

  His hands were warm and strong, and yet so gentle, holding hers.

  “Charity,” he went on, “I know I’m pushing you again. I don’t want to. But I can’t stop how I feel, either. I won’t ask you how you feel in return. Just know it’s there, whenever you’re ready.”

  “I’m thirty, Jake,” she said in a low voice, terrified to speak about this and yet not able to stop herself, either. “Love isn’t supposed to come swift and encompassing anymore, like teenagers. It’s supposed to happen slow and easy, like a comfortable chair. You just turn around and it’s there.”

  He laughed. “Hell, Charity, we might as well go find the rockers right now. We’re old enough and experienced enough to know when it’s more than lust. But you are no comfortable old chair.”

  “Thank goodness,” she said, smiling. “I wasn’t crazy about the idea of being an old chair.”

  He pulled her to him, pressing her hips against his. “I’ve had some old chairs in my time, and they’ve never produced a reaction like that.”

  “You’ve never had this old chair,” she murmured, and kissed him.

  The kiss was gentle and lingering, yet with that familiar undertow of desire. When they finally eased away, he said, “Do you suppose we can make another ‘great escape’?”

  “I doubt it.” She drank in the scent of him, her senses responding automatically.

  “Me too.” He sighed. “Tell everyone to hang in there, that I’m not happy with what they’ve given back, but it’s a start, and I will work hard to get the rest of the benefits back. But it’s imperative now that everyone hustle and get this company turned around.”

  “I’ll tell them.” She shook her head. “I just hope they believe me.”

  “They’ll believe you. If there’s one thing I’ve found out here, it’s that people have a lot of respect for you.”

  She laughed outright. “Lord, but have they been pulling your chain.”

  “I have a feeling you’re my best protection from the lynch mob.”

  He let her go. She touched her hands to her hair, wiped the faint smear of pinkish lipstick from his lips, then gave him a sound kiss for good measure.

  He caught her wrist and kissed her palm. “Come to the house tonight, Charity.”

  “Yes.” She answered without hesitation.

  She could almost hear the other question he didn’t voice. Will you come into my bed? She didn’t know the answer anymore.

  It was like Danielle facing the lion’s den, Charity thought a few minutes later as she explained to the group still waiting in the outer office what the Wayans board had decided to do. The roar that went up certainly sounded like a murderous charge. Even Jake’s secretary screeched in outrage.

  “You’re kidding,” Mary said, breaking through the angry babble. “They’re not serious about this. It can’t be legal to give benefits to some and not others.”

  “Unfortunately, they are serious, legal or not,” Charity said. “Look, people, let’s be positive about this. They’ve given back the health benefits to some of the employees. If we keep pressing without pushing them over the edge, they’ll give them back to the rest of us. Right now, if we call them on the carpet, they’ll pull the benefits for everyone. Then we’ll never get them back.”

  “We won’t anyway,” one woman said. “They’ve gone through a big rationale to justify giving them to the men. They care only about the bottom line. And we’re not it!”

  “I wonder how Mr. Management in there helped us out,” another muttered ominously.

  “He’s not going to push for us.”

  “Yeah, what does he care? He did just enough to look like Mr. Nice Guy.”

  “Telling us we need to work harder. Hah!”

  “You women bellyache all the time!”

  The crowd parted in the direction of the sarcastic voice. Dave Ringman stood at the foyer entry, glaring at them all.

  “You ought to be grateful you have your jobs,” he said, his smile close to a sneer. “Not that you do them.”

  “I heard,” Jake’s secretary said, “that management did not get their health benefits cut, just all the regular employees.”

  “What!” Righteous indignation threatened to balloon into outrage.

  Dave looked startled and furtive. “We’re not getting a break. It’s … we have to declare it as income because they dropped it for everyone else.”

  “I’d rather pay taxes on the costs than pay the costs,” one woman said, summing up the angry feeling Charity sensed everyone had.

  Dave slipped away quickly.

  “I can’t believe Halford let weasels like that keep their health benefits and took ours!” someone snapped.

  “People,” Charity began, realizing they were ready to shoot the messenger, just as she had been. She wondered if Jake could hear this th
rough the door. “I think Mr. Halford is sincere with us. He’s not stupid. He knows if the employees aren’t happy, the company suffers.”

  “Maybe they need a reminder.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s have a meeting.”

  “A meeting where we decide how we’ll show them!”

  The crowd moved away from the office, Jake’s secretary going with them.

  Charity followed, wondering what was coming next.

  She was late. Very late.

  Jake sighed with relief as car headlights flashed along his drive. He was out the door and striding down the walkway before she had even parked and turned off the ignition.

  She no sooner emerged from the car than he swept her up in his arms. “I thought you’d never get here,” he said, kissing her firmly. “Where were you?”

  “I had a meeting. I’m sorry I’m late.” She clung to him, surprising him with the fierceness of her embrace.

  He squeezed her tightly, delighting in her unique scent. He didn’t care what made her late, because she was there now. That was all that mattered.

  “Jake,” she whispered, trailing fiery kisses along his jaw. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  He couldn’t think straight with her mouth burning his skin. “What?” he asked absently.

  “We … had … a … meeting … tonight.” She punctuated the words with lingering kisses.

  “That’s nice.” He didn’t know why he was worried she’d never come to his bed. They’d never get that far in the first place.

  “It was about Wayans.” Her mouth was a flame, searing his, driving him insane. “You make me crazy, Jake.”

  His hands slipped under her top, his body throbbing wildly at the feel of her soft flesh.

  She moaned into his mouth, then pulled away to bury her face in his shoulder. Her hands gripped his back, her nails clawing into his skin as his palms rubbed her nipples. They were hard with desire, desire for him. He pressed himself into the cradle of her hips, wondering if the car hood would take their lovemaking and whether his neighbors would notice.

  “Jake, we’re on … ahh … strike.”

  “Charity, you drive me—” He lifted his head. “You’re on what!”