Call Me Lydia

by MaryAnn Myers

  Lydia went to her gladly and held on tight as Betty rocked her back and forth. "Bless 'em sweet Jesus!" Betty prayed out loud. "Bless 'em and keep 'em happy."

  Once the formality was out of the way, Greg couldn't wait to leave, and he and Lydia were barely through the beach house door when he reached for her, wanting to know "When, Lydia?"

  Lydia smiled. "When what?" She'd talked nonstop the way there and thought he was referring to something she'd said.

  "When are you going to become my wife?"

  Lydia shook her head. "I don't know."

  "Soon...all right?"

  Lydia smiled faintly and nodded, then stepped back. "Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"

  Greg shook his head. "No, I want to take a walk down that hall," and smiling, he took her by the hand.

  * * *

  During the night, Lydia was plagued with nightmares. She was running through the shop at one point, naked and in tears, swinging a machete and chopping off heads at random. Then with the opening and shutting of her eyes, she was back in the middle of the shop. Only this time, she was castrating Tony. And Greg and Reed were holding him down as she hacked away, laughing at his pain and saying that he deserved it.

  Waking from that one, trembling and in a sweat, she slid out from under the covers and tiptoed into the living room. She fumbled with her cigarettes and lit one, then poured a Scotch and sat down on the couch. When Greg came out a little while later and urged her to come back to bed, she walked down the hall with him, still thinking about Tony.

  In the morning, she woke to the aroma of coffee and, after taking a quick shower, got herself a cup and went out by the pool to join Greg. He was over by the railing, looking out at the ocean.

  "You spoil me, you know," she said, taking her place beside him.

  Greg smiled, kissing her. "I know."

  "How long have you been up?"

  "An hour or so. I've been standing here thinking about taking you down to that rock there." He pointed to it, "and laying you back..."

  Lydia laughed. "That's funny. It's nicknamed 'Screwing Rock,' though personally I could never understand why. It looks like it'd be so uncomfortable for that."

  Greg squinted, as if he was taking a better look. "Oh...I don't think so."

  Lydia shook her head. "Must be just for a man's imagina­tion."

  "Must be," Greg said. “’Cause it sure got mine going."

  Lydia chuckled, then grew quiet and sighed. "I have to go into the plant for a few minutes. I have something I need to check out."

  Greg took her coffee and, placing it on the railing, pulled her close. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

  Lydia shook her head. "No...it's pretty important."

  "More important than me?"

  Lydia smiled faintly. "No, but it still has to be done. Why don't you come with me? It won't take long."

  Greg frowned.

  "It's part of my dowry," Lydia teased.

  "Well, in that case, maybe I will. That way I can make sure we get back in time to try out 'Screwing Rock.'"

  "In broad daylight? Wouldn't that look cute on the cover of a sport's magazine!"

  Greg nodded, laughing.

  When they got to the plant, Lydia introduced Greg to Jan, whose dreamy-eyed response was full of blushes and giggles. Then it was on to meet Reed.

  "I'm glad Lydia brought you by," he lied, shaking Greg's hand and sizing him up. "I was hoping she would."

  "I need to look up an old check entry on the computer," Lydia said. "So I talked him into coming."

  "I take it going to Forrester is off then?" Reed said.

  "For today, yes. Greg's plane leaves at five. We'll go tomorrow."

  Reed nodded, stealing another glance at Greg, who was casually looking around the room as if he hadn't a care in the world. "What check entry?"

  "It's something I found yesterday, and it just might make up for the incorrect balance."

  "One entry? How did we miss it?"

  "We didn't. It's a void, and it's not the same amount."

  "While you're checking this out," Greg said, "I think I'll stroll around a bit."

  "Maybe Reed’ll give you a guided tour," Lydia suggested. She wasn't about to go out into the shop herself. Dream or not, the image of Tony's bloody testicles in her hand was still too real.

  "Sure," Reed said, sounding like a used-car salesman. "Be glad to." And they started out.

  "Did they get the Mayfran going?" Lydia asked.

  Reed nodded, and at the elevator, when Lydia waved and walked on, alone with Greg now, he suddenly felt nervous. Enough so that he couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, between floors, for lack of anything better: "I seem to be having trouble with my backhand."

  Greg smiled at him. "You'd be amazed at how many times I've heard that."

  Reed relaxed a little, liking the guy in spite of himself. "And what's your pat reply?"

  "Oh, I usually tell them that I'm having some, too. Then they don't know what to say."

  Reed laughed, and when the elevator opened, he let Greg out first and they started down the hall. "Actually, I'm not a real good tennis player. Golf's more my game."

  "I play a little myself," Greg said.

  "Oh? Do you play well?"

  "One handicap," Greg said nonchalantly, as they went into the shop. "But I haven't had a lot of time for it lately. I've been..." He trailed off, staring up at a large vibrating lathe. "God! What a big-ass machine!"

  Reed laughed, nodding and agreeing with him. "I remem­ber feeling pretty much the same when I first saw it."

  Greg started around it, tossing him a knowing smile. "Well, you know what they say about little boys and the size of their toys. They just keep getting bigger."

  Reed laughed again. Then Lydia's breasts came to mind and he remembered who he was talking to, and suddenly it didn't seem so funny anymore. He cleared his throat. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the shop."

  Stopping to make comments, answer questions, and point various things out, they were just starting down through primary when several of the employees recognized Greg. A young woman, all starry-eyed and giddy, came up and asked for his autograph. He agreed to sign the back of her T-shirt. Word that he was there spread quickly. When they finally got through that department and went on to assembly, Reed made an attempt to map out the routing to him, but gave up. It was impossible. A man across the aisle called out, "How's the backhand?"

  Greg winked at Reed, saying, "See? Always...in one form or another." He pretended as if he had a stiff arm as he called back, "I'm working on it." That only fueled the chaos. All the women wanted autographs, even some of the men—for their wives they said—and a department that should've taken five minutes to get through ended up taking about twenty.

  As they started into shipping, Reed jokingly assured Greg that he was safe now, because there weren't any women in here. They both laughed. Then Reed spotted Tony on the dock, writing something down on a clipboard, and yelled to him.

  "Tony, if you have a second," he said, wanting company in his misery. "There's someone here I'd like you to meet."

  Tony nodded and made another notation before walking over. The grapevine hadn't reached as far as shipping, where he'd been for the last hour, but he knew exactly whom he was about to meet. Greg was just as he'd expected. Ivy League and squeaky clean.

  "Greg, this is Tony Armato. Now, I don't know if Lydia's told you anything about the operation or the people here, but Tony's our key employee. In fact, he's more valuable than me."

  Greg extended his hand, smiling, and Tony met it evenly, shaking his head at Reed's introduction.

  "Tony, this is Greg Stewart. Tennis pro and Lydia's uh...uh..."

  "Fiancée," Greg said, helping him out. "I wore her down last night, and she finally said yes. And no, we didn't do a whole lot of talking about anything, if you know what I mean," he added with a sly grin.

  Reed forced a smile and shook his hand. "Well then, it seems congra
tulations are in order."

  "Thank you," Greg said, smiling, and they both turned to Tony, perhaps expecting congratulations from him as well. But he just nodded, starting past them and saying something about having to get back to what he was doing. They walked on.

  Greg made a casual comment about the size of the shop as they started up the stairs, and Reed nodded in agony. En­gaged? He glanced at Greg. Here was a guy who obviously had everything, and now he was going to have Lydia, too.

  At the conference room, Reed opened the door and stepped aside. He wanted to get this over with. "And this is Lydia's office," he said, sounding less than enthusiastic.

  Greg looked around and, seeing the shattered ashtray over in the corner, smiled. "I can tell."

  "She does have a bit of a temper, doesn't she?"

  Greg nodded, laughing. "Yes, but channeled it makes for one hell of a good time."

  Reed forced a chuckle, as he seethed inside. "Well, we'd better get back upstairs. I'm sure you two have plans for the day."

  "You'd better believe it," Greg said, tapping him on the arm. "I'd appreciate it if you could help me move her along. I'd like to make the most of the time we have before I leave."

  Reed gave him a nod, one that indicated he understood perfectly and would comply. But as he followed Greg to the elevator, he shook his head and made a face behind his back.

  Lydia was waiting for them, pacing back and forth in front of Jan's desk, having just found yet another snag, and she was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this.

  "Well, tracing the entry was easy enough," she said, "but it can't be right."

  "What do you mean?" Reed asked.

  Lydia reached for another cigarette. She'd smoked about five waiting for them. "It's probably nothing," she said, lighting up and taking a long drag. "There's no sense getting into it till I check it out. In fact, I should probably just go down to the bank right now, otherwise..."

  "The bank's closed today," Jan said, interrupting her.

  "Oh great!" Lydia said. "What the hell kind of bank's closed on a Monday?"

  The kind that's on my side," Greg said, glancing first at his watch, then at Reed.

  This was where Reed was supposed to help, and there didn't seem to be any way to get out of it. He cleared his throat. "You might as well just forget about this today and go on. We can stop there tomorrow when we go to Forrester."

  Lydia drew a deep breath, staring off in thought, then nodded. "All right, I'll see you in the morning. We'll go early."

  Greg shook Reed's hand, winking to say thanks. He and Lydia left then, and with that, Reed muttered an obscenity that shocked the smile right off of Jan's face, then stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him.

  Out in the car, Lydia was quiet. According to the com­puter, the check had been made out to the bank, which in itself was puzzling, let alone its being void and not reissued at a later date. She couldn't stop thinking about it.

  Greg reached for her hand. "Hey, remember me?"

  She smiled and sighed. "Yes. So what do you think of Merchant Manufacturing?"

  "I'm impressed," Greg said. "I had no idea of the size."

  "Did you enjoy your tour?"

  "Yes, Reed was very thorough. He even introduced me to your key employee."

  Lydia swallowed. "Oh? And who was that?"

  "A Tony Armato."

  Lydia stared out her side window. "Anyone else memo­rable?"

  "Nope, just him. I can't remember any of the other's names."

  Lydia looked at him. "So why his then?"

  Greg shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it was the billing Reed gave him."

  Lydia nodded and rested her head back. "Turn right at the first light."

  Greg smiled. "Is that the quickest way?"

  "No...I thought you might like to see the falls."

  "Why? If you've seen one, you've seen them all."

  "Then you should turn left."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lydia decided to go back to the plant after taking Greg to the airport and was rounding the corner headed for account­ing, when she literally ran into Reed coming the other way.

  She faked an injury, joking with him. "Jesus Christ! Why don't you watch where you're going?"

  Reed laughed. "I'm sorry." Not that she wasn't as much at fault. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here. What are you back for anyway?"

  Lydia walked on. "I've got a hunch about something."

  "What? Come on, don't leave me hanging. You did that earlier."

  Lydia glanced over her shoulder. "If it pans out, I'll tell you all about it. Right now, like I said, it's just a hunch." The scent of English Leather greeted her as she walked into accounting. It was even stronger by the computer, and it reminded her of the morning she and Bill had snuck in and found the files empty.

  She looked around as she sat down, wondering what Bill, or any other man for that matter, would be doing in here. Figuring it must've been Reed, she picked up the phone and dialed his extension. He didn't answer. So she paged him and, while waiting, lit a cigarette.

  He showed up at the door instead, and waving him over, she motioned for him to lean down so she could sniff his neck.

  "What kind of cologne do you wear?"

  Reed smiled. "Here I was getting excited. I thought you were going to kiss me."

  Lydia laughed. "Are you kidding? I'm worn out."

  Reed's eyes twinged. That goddamn Greg Stewart. "I wear British Sterling. Why? Don't you like it?"

  "Yeah, it's nice. I just..." She tapped the keyboard. "Here, smell this."

  Reed leaned down and sniffed. "Okay," he said, looking amused yet puzzled. "It smells good. So...?"

  "It's English Leather."

  Reed nodded.

  "Who wears it?" Lydia asked, keeping "besides my dad," to herself. "I've smelled it in here before."

  Reed shook his head and sat down on the edge of the desk, smiling. "I don't know, but I think it's safe to say it's probably not Sylvia."

  Lydia laughed.

  "So, did your hunch pan out?"

  "No, not yet. I never got that far. I got sidetracked by this...this cologne thing."

  Reed smiled. She leaned forward to sniff the keyboard again, and her hair parted at the nape of her neck; her skin looked so soft. "It must not have been much of a hunch if you were so easily diverted."

  Lydia sat back. "Wrong. When I get a feeling or a hunch, I just go with it. It doesn't matter what order they come in. And right now, this English Leather thing's trying to tell me something."

  "Feelings, hunches, and things that tell you something..."

  "Yeah, and I read minds too," Lydia said, sounding as if she was joking. "I'm a regular sideshow."

  Reed's smile thickened. He'd lowered his eyes momen­tarily and was now imagining how delicate her breasts would feel against his fingertips, how erect her nipples would be­come. "You read minds?"

  Lydia nodded, glancing away. "Yeah, it's a curse."

  Reed chuckled. "Okay, so what am I thinking?"

  "What? Now? Or a few seconds ago?"

  "Both."

  Lydia smiled. "Well, since they're one and the same, let me just say that I don't like them touched. It doesn't do a thing for me."

  Reed's face reddened.

  "And as for the rest, to be honest with you, I think it's just a guy thing. A cool breeze has the same effect."

  Reed's face turned even redder. "How did you do that?"

  Lydia laughed. "Don't panic, Reed. I'm usually not that accurate. In fact, I find when I need it the most, it usually fails me."

  Reed looked off, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. "Have you…?"

  "Read you before? Yes," Lydia said, having fun with him. "And you should be ashamed of some of your thoughts. Especially the ones at the restaurant the other night."

  Reed covered his eyes. Jesus, if she knew everything he was thinking. He peeked out from under his hand. "How am I going to work with you
?"

  Lydia smiled. "It'll keep you on your toes, won't it?"

  "I guess!" Reed laughed, then sat back, crossing his arms, and looked at her a moment. "How'd you get this uh...?"

  "Sense?" Lydia said. "Who knows? It manifested itself anonymously."

  She sounded as if she was kidding again, and Reed found himself doubting her a little. "Okay. But if you've been able to read my mind, why haven't you slapped my face by now?"

  "Because, Reed," she said, sounding more serious, "I keep hoping we're going to get through this and become good friends. I'm practically a married woman, you know."

  Reed sighed. "I know. We both know."

  Lydia frowned. It was obvious he wasn't talking about the two of them. But who he was referring to, drew a blank.

  "Well surely you've picked up on something there, too," he said, "if what you say is true."

  Lydia still came up blank and tried waving it off. "No, I haven't. So it's probably not important."

  Reed looked defensive, which puzzled her, then said, "Come on, I know Tony may be a little more subtle than me, but..."

  The blood drained from her face. "I don't read Tony," she said, all but snapping at him. "And I don't want to. Now, if you'll excuse me."

  Reed nodded politely, too politely, and stood up to leave. He didn't like her cutting him short, but was reveling in her reaction to his implying Tony might be interested in her. It came as a surprise, he was positive. That meant Tony hadn't put a move on her yet.

  Suddenly at the door, though, he thought of something else. Something he had to ask. "The employees you let go, Lydia, the ones you axed—were you able to read their minds too?"

  Lydia wasn't prepared for that and swallowed what would have been an honest response, just shrugging instead. But Reed didn't buy it, not with thinking about it now, some of her comments then, the things she'd implied. He stood there. "You did, didn't you?" He could only imagine how hard that must have been. When she finally nodded, saying yes, he walked out, wishing he'd insisted on doing them for her.

  "Reed?"

  He turned.

  "Thanks."

  "For what?"

  She knew what he was thinking. "Just thanks. Okay?"

  He smiled. "Okay."