Touch Me When We're Dancing

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Touch Me When We're Dancing Page 16

by Suzanne Jenkins


  Keying in Michael’s number, she paced in the room, looking out the dirty windows, the skyline of Brooklyn in the distance, the Manhattan Bridge. Her big accomplishment was that Two Bridges neighborhood project. The people who’d lived there for decades were not going to be happy about a casino going in, blocking their view. She’d emphasize the brownstones rather than the new construction. And the upgrades that would be made to the neighborhood were phenomenal. The developer was pouring millions into infrastructure, new playgrounds, landscaping, and streets. It was going to be the Disneyland of New York City.

  “Hey, it’s me. Is your Dutch house still available for prime-time television?”

  She told him about the proposal and he approved—he’d never had the opportunity to share with the board the reversal of last week, so nothing had changed as far as they were concerned.

  “Are you excited? What about the adult playground?”

  “That’s full speed ahead. I’ll juggle both.”

  “Boy oh boy, you are one dynamic woman,” he said. “I’ll be in charge of dinner from now on.”

  “Are you okay with that, honey?” she said, batting her eyelashes. Of course, he couldn’t see it, but it was so much of her shtick that she did it when she used an endearment, even when he wasn’t around.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to facilitate your success. You know that.”

  Exhaling, she did know it. “I do. Thank you, Michael. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

  “I do know. I love you, Sandra.”

  “And I love you.”

  “Go to work. I’m ready to light a match to my desk.”

  “Ha! Goodbye!”

  On top of the world, Sandra spent the next hour luring the former office manager from old man Smith’s office up in the Bronx, who got in a taxi right away. A woman in her mid-seventies, Adele Romaine was glamorous, intelligent and sharp-witted. She said she would run Sandra’s office as long as she was needed.

  “I almost didn’t remember you,” she said, handing Sandra a large cappuccino with extra cream, her former guilty pleasure. “When you said you’d gone to Exchange Place to work for Jack, then I remembered.”

  “Adele, have you eaten lunch? I’m dying to hear your stories.”

  “I haven’t, but we should get this place cleaned up first. I’ll put a few calls in, and then we can go out. It’s one thing to use outside help for small projects, but for the size you’re doing, you’ll need a title agent, a real estate lawyer, an actuary, a designer, a licensed real estate agent and a specialist in NY historical regulation on retainer.

  “Let me see. You’ll also need at least two secretaries, one for you and one for me, a receptionist, and an errand boy. I’ll get busy calling agencies and also arrange to get some decent office furniture in here. This place smells like cheese.”

  “That’s awful,” Sandra said, laughing and remembering how much she liked Adele. “I have a call in to the agency. You can take over.”

  They worked for the next hour until Adele felt they had accomplished enough that they could stop to eat. Sandra figured it was why Adele was so thin. They’d go to the diner under the Brooklyn Bridge. Sandra called Damon, who was close by, instead of hailing a cab. At the diner, they continued the conversation.

  “Did he play around in the office?” Sandra asked, suddenly curious about Jack’s father. What she knew of him was reprehensible.

  “Never. He was a real family man. He worshiped his wife and sons. His office was loaded with their photos and portraits. He said the overflow of sports trophies his boys had won came to the office because his wife had threatened to put them in the attic.

  “When Jack got married, the old man was livid. He didn’t care for the girl’s family. Using racial slurs, he called them dagos. It was awful.”

  It suddenly occurred to Sandra that in all the conversations she’d had with Pam, the old man was never mentioned.

  “We were all witness to his tantrums and moods when Jack left the office to go with Mr. Lang, too.”

  “That was before my time.”

  “You weren’t there long, were you? I’ll never forget when we hired you, I felt like I had to protect you from the lechers. It had never been a problem before, but I guess we’d never had anyone as attractive as you.”

  “Adele, don’t exaggerate,” Sandra said, snickering. “You were and are pretty hot.”

  “But you’re forty years younger than me. When Jack came up that summer after you were hired, we knew you’d be going downtown before long.”

  “We were just friends for a long time,” Sandra said, suddenly sad. She hadn’t talked about Jack for a while. “When I look back on our relationship, I don’t understand it. It wasn’t what you think.”

  It was definitely more cerebral than physical. The expectation was unbelievable, the sexual tension between them as thick as fog, the disappointment excruciating. There was no passion in the bedroom. The passion was in everything else they did together, but she didn’t tell Adele that.

  “From what I hear now, he was probably just tired. I heard he had heart disease that he didn’t know about, correct?”

  “He might have known and just didn’t tell anyone,” Sandra said.

  “Who knows what would have happened had he lived.”

  Sandra looked at Adele carefully. “Were you sleeping with him?”

  “Me? No. I don’t care for men,” she answered.

  “I had no idea,” Sandra said, perplexed. “I must have stereotypes on the brain.”

  “We were in the closet for so long, and with the way I look, it was easy.”

  “Do you have anyone?” Sandra asked.

  “I have what they now call a life partner. Virginia and I have been together for over thirty years. She’s much younger than I am. You may remember her. She was Harold’s secretary.”

  Sandra put her fork down and looked at Adele. “Virginia. Was she short and kind of round? I don’t mean to be rude.”

  “Yes! Ha! That’s my Ginny. She never lost the weight after our first baby was born, and he’ll be thirty soon.”

  “Wow, so you have children,” Sandra said.

  “Ginny gave birth to our three. My brother, Fred, is the father.”

  “Wait. I remember now. Fred Romaine is your brother? I thought Romaine was your married name and you were married to Fred. He was in the office enough.”

  “He still sells real estate in the Bronx,” Adele said. “He lives with us, always has. The kids call him Daddy. I’m Mom Addie, and Ginny is Mom.”

  “You did a good job staying in the closet. I didn’t even get the impression you and Ginny were friends.”

  “Let alone lovers,” Adele added sadly. “I was going to tell you about Jack and Harold, and I ended up talking about myself the entire time. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I want to know you, Adele. I’m fascinated. I’m especially fascinated with how clueless and unaware I am. It’s awful.”

  “You’re young and you were just living your own life. You weren’t uptown that long. Let’s talk about you for a while. What have you been up to since you came downtown to work?”

  “You knew when Jack died, he left me part of the business, correct?”

  “No! I never heard that. Wow, what a coup!”

  “Yes, you’re telling me. Anyway, I accepted a buyout offer recently but have been working out of their office. It was time to be out on my own, so here I am! And thankfully, here you are. I guess we should be getting back.”

  Sandra asked for the bill, and while they waited, Adele got caught up with Sandra. “Are you married, and do you have a family?”

  “I actually have Jack’s grandson,” she said. “His son, Brent, and I were together before he was killed, and we have a son, Brent Junior.”

  The name really wasn’t Brent Junior yet. She’d change that as soon as she could get him away from Tim.

  “Wow, isn’t it amazing how things turn out? Jack would be so happy that yo
u were with his son,” Adele said.

  Sandra realized she didn’t get it about Jack and Sandra, the couple. She must have assumed that when Sandra said they were just friends, that they were always just friends, and that Sandra got the business because of the son, or something like that.

  “I guess I missed that the son died. I don’t keep up with much news that isn’t right in the city. They lived out on the island, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, but he was killed in White Plains. Murdered, actually.”

  “How terrible. Let’s get out of here. I need a breath after that.”

  Damon waited by the car, his hand on the door.

  “You certainly have done well for yourself,” Adele said. “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

  “Thanks,” Sandra said, thinking, There weren’t nothin’ to it.

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Sandra looked at her, surprised. Again, she assumed the world knew her history.

  “I ask because I have a thirty-year-old son I would love to introduce to you.”

  Sandra smiled and looked away for a moment. “What does he do?”

  “He’s a doc right here at NYMC. An anesthesiologist.”

  “Do you have a picture?”

  And then Sandra couldn’t help it and burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding you,” she said. “I just started dating the CEO of the center.”

  Now it was Adele who looked surprised. “Not Michael Bennett.”

  “That’s him,” she answered.

  “Sandra, didn’t his wife just die? It was the talk of the town, I’m telling you. We live in Morningside Heights.”

  “Yes, of course,” Sandra said, ignoring the question about Jenna.

  “I’m sure I read that his wife was pushed off a cliff in the park, landing on some boulders below, killing her instantly. They had a baby girl.”

  “The child wasn’t Michael’s.”

  “Wow, he sure didn’t waste any time.”

  Looking at Sandra intently, Adele didn’t say that perhaps a story about Sandra being jailed for the murder just came to her. Biting her lip, Sandra’s nostrils flared. Maybe Adele wasn’t going to be such a good fit for the new office. She put on her best sad face.

  “It was so awful when it happened,” she said. “Michael is still devastated.”

  “I bet,” Adele said after a bit, a certain twist to her mouth that made Sandra think she didn’t believe her.

  “Adele, if my relationship with Michael is going to be a problem for you, maybe we’d better rethink this job situation. I need someone who has my back one hundred percent and who will help me get this company under control.

  “I’ve only been in business a few weeks, and I already have millions of dollars in construction and historic conservation to oversee.

  “Are you in? Or are you going to gossip about me? If you don’t have my company’s best interests at heart, I’ll find someone else to manage the office.”

  In the back of the car, Sandra could see she’d upset Adele, but at that point she didn’t care.

  “I’m sorry, Sandra. It’s my age, I guess. It doesn’t take much intrigue to get me going. I’d be the last person to judge you, you must believe that. I’ve been judged all my life. I make a point not to do that to other people.”

  “Okay then, as long as I have your word that my personal life is off-limits. If anyone inquires, ask them to take it up with me.”

  Damon pulled into the alley and stopped next to Sandra’s new offices.

  “Don’t get out, Damon. I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “Do you need a ride home, Adele?”

  “No, if it’s okay with you, I’ll start working on getting those chairs in there filled.”

  “Excellent. I have to head over to Two Bridges to meet with the developer,” she replied, working an extra key off the ring and handing it to her. “I left my briefcase and the files up there.”

  They rode the elevator in silence, Sandra wondering if she was making a mistake hiring Adele now that she knew she harbored negative feelings about Jenna’s death. The thought that she wasn’t going to be able to control what was said about her and Michael crossed her mind and gave her renewed energy.

  Adele would see the real Sandra Benson at work, the woman who didn’t waste a minute that could be productive. She’d also find out that Sandra wasn’t going to cut her any breaks, even if she was in her seventies.

  Chapter 13

  Dan ended up bringing the boys home on Saturday because the roads were too bad on the way to the farm. Alison brought Megan home after lunch and wanted to hang around and flirt with Steve. The rest of the local family came to eat Valarie’s homemade tortillas.

  Steve went to the sporting goods store in town to buy skis for Diana, Megan, Miranda, Brent and the two boys, and they were like wild creatures, so that Lisa laughed so hard and so long that she’d lost her voice. Tim and Valarie had given up trying to avoid going out in the cold, but Brent wasn’t standing for it, his little cheeks red and chapped from the wind.

  Afterward, they came inside and crowded around the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate. The adults, including Pam and Randy, had hot spiked cider. Lisa drank plain cider in a mug so it wasn’t so obvious.

  For dinner, they had Valarie’s amazing pork and homemade tortillas. It was a fun-filled, trouble-free evening. After everyone left, Steve and Lisa put the children to bed and sat on the couch by the fire, talking about the day.

  “I can’t remember having so much fun in the snow since I was a kid,” he said. “Those kids brought back all the fun of my youth.”

  “Yes, they’re a barrel of laughs,” she said, sipping tea. “You know what’s boring? This tea is boring. The first thing I’m going to do when I get home with the new baby is uncork a bottle of wine. That should help my milk come in.”

  Laughing with her, Steve watched her talk, tossing her ponytail, animated, and he liked everything he saw, her humor, even her sarcasm that could be caustic.

  “I know I’ve said this already, but I really like you.”

  “And I really like you,” she replied.

  “No, Lisa. I mean I really like you. I think this is what I’ve been looking for.” Embracing her, he welled up with emotion and couldn’t continue in that vein. “What’s it like, bringing a baby home to a house full of kids?”

  She pulled away and looked him in the eye to see if he was teasing. “You’re an obstetrician and you don’t know?”

  “The mother leaves the hospital with a new baby, and if everything is okay, that’s the last communication I have until she comes in for her postdelivery checkup.”

  “It’s crazy,” Lisa replied, resting against him again. “When I brought Megan home, we were living with my mother. She was helpful to an extent. When I had Marcus, it was better because my mother-in-law Gladys was there, and she’s a hands-on grandmother.

  “I already told you about baby Dan Junior. Now that was insane. I nursed both boys. My boobs were so worn out by the time Dan Junior was weaned, I never thought they’d recover.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, from a physician’s standpoint, they look marvelous now.” He moved his eyebrows up and down comedically, and she roared laughing, still hoarse from being outside all weekend.

  “Ha! They’re trussed up in a brassiere,” she said, leaning back and scooping them up with her hands. “But thank you. I read that when someone gives you a compliment, you’re just supposed to say thank you and move on. So thank you.”

  He was staring at her breasts, at what she’d just done touching herself. Teasing her, he pretended to bug his eyes out. She smoothed his cheeks with her hands, getting up close to him, nose touching nose.

  “Thank you,” she repeated, winking.

  Steve reached over to shut the light off and moved in for a kiss. Except for the goodnight kiss he’d given her on Friday night, he hadn’t kissed a woman in a long time, and he was hungry for Lisa,
sucking her lower lip into his mouth. Then she did it back to him, and it drove him a little crazy. Sliding his hands around her waist, Steve pulled Lisa to his lap, their lips never moving apart. Everything about the kiss—his breath tasting of wine, a prickle of beard—turned her on. Steve was a moaner too, and at first she had to concentrate on not giggling, but then his freedom in letting her know how much he was enjoying it freed her as well, and before long, she was rid of all inhibitions.

  “Take this off,” he whispered, pulling at her sweater.

  Obediently, she leaned back and pulled the sweater over her head. The bra she wore was a little small, her breasts the first thing to react to pregnancy hormones, and they spilled out over the top of the cups. Smoothing his hands over her flesh, he hooked his fingers in the bra.

  “Can you take this off, too?”

  Reaching around, she unhooked it and waited. Everything he did to her was ceremonial, and the bra removal was no exception. Sliding his fingers under the straps, he slowly slid them down her shoulders, touching her skin, looking at her, holding his breath, wondering what her nipples were going to look like. When he finally let it fall away, he exhaled.

  “I feel like a kid seeing breasts for the first time.”

  Speechless, she leaned against the back of the couch and waited, letting him take his time. She’d never given her breasts that much thought, except they were sagging after having two children and nursing three. This was new, closing her eyes, feeling the sensation of Steve touching her and sucking on her. For what seemed like forever, he held them in his hands like they were fabulous, even though they were just breasts.

  Normally, at this point in the night, there would be intercourse. Fleeting memories of each of her lovers zoomed through her head, and she wondered if tonight would be a repeat—he’d move her off his lap, unzip and push her back. But Steve wasn’t going there yet.

  They made out. That was the high school term completely applicable to what they were doing. It was wonderful. When she got goose bumps from being cold, he helped her put her sweater back on, minus the bra. There was the sense of them taking their time.

  Sometime during the evening, they ended up lying side by side on the couch, and she thought surely he’d do it then, but he didn’t. The desire she had for him just kept building.

 

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