by Joan Hohl
Julia glanced at the plastic bag draped over the back of the settee, a tiny shiver of delight trickling down her spine. The garment thrilled her. It was straight, with a handkerchief hemline, black with silver serpentine lines winding their way from bodice to hem. It had two slim, adjustable shoulder straps, and came with a built-in padded-cup bra.
The very idea of actually going out without wearing a real, torturously uncomfortable strapless bra sent another shiver of delight through her.
How decadent. How delicious.
How repressed was she, anyway? Julia wryly asked herself, if the mundane idea of going without a stupid bra in this day and, yes, decadent age, could give her an exciting chill of being somehow brave and daring.
Jeeze. Her daughters, the Em and Ems, would have the snickering hysterics.
Julia dismissed these thoughts and the dress that had instigated them. She had better things to think about…like food.
It was now nearly seven-thirty, and the long slanting rays from the setting springtime sun streamed through the window and beyond, bathing the surrounding tall buildings, as well as the huge statue of William Penn atop city hall, in a shower of golden light.
Hi, Billy, you look great awash in soft gold.
Laughing at her whimsical thought, Julia reached for the phone to ring for room service. It was only then she noticed the small red message light blinking.
The kids.
It was the first thought to jump into her mind…along with a jolt of alarm.
Jon? The alarm expanded.
Find out, idiot, Julia upbraided herself, lifting the receiver and pressing the message number. First repression, now unfounded terror. You’re supposed to be the levelheaded one, remember?
“Hi.” Jon’s distinctive, naturally sexy low voice sent tingles dancing along Julia’s spine and down the backs of her thighs, even after all this time. Amazing, she marveled, missing his next couple of words.
“…any trouble driving into the city. I suppose you’re having dinner somewhere or, knowing you, still shopping. Try not to spend all of our money. Or, better yet, try spending some of our money on yourself this time, instead of merely looking or buying for the kids.” He laughed, the sound even lower, sexier than his speaking voice.
The tingle inside Julia turned into a delicious shiver…a feeling which, considering the distance between them—both physical and emotional—she didn’t appreciate.
She had spent a good chunk of their money, she mused, without fear of angering him when he found out; Jon never did question or object to whatever amount she spent.
“…and—” Julia had once again missed his continuing words “—I hope you’ve bought a special outfit or dress to wear for dinner when I get there.”
Her gaze shot to the bagged dress draped over the back of the settee, then to the shopping bags she had dropped to the floor just inside the door…and again almost missed what he was saying.
“Have fun shopping, darling. I’ll see you soon.”
Darling.
Tears blurred Julia’s vision, and she heaved a heartfelt, throat-tightening sigh.
After nearly twenty years of marriage, she was still fathoms in love with Jon…even though she was currently pissed off and hating him. She was mad and deeply hurt, because she felt certain the now very professionally and financially successful surgeon Dr. Jonathan Langston had been unfaithful to her by fooling around with his nurse practitioner, of all people.
How clichéd was that, for God’s sake?
The nurse’s name was Brooke. She was young, mid-to-late-twenties, damn her, with a gorgeous head of naturally blond hair. She was tall, slim, lovely, intelligent and efficient. To add insult to injury, Brooke was also very nice.
Julia had actually even liked the gorgeous would-be home-wrecker at one time.
When Julia had voiced her concern over their possible affair, Jon had denied ever having been intimate with the younger woman. He had, however, admitted to meeting with Brooke several times away from the office, and kissing her a couple of times.
Kissing wasn’t intimate? Although it must have been the thousandth time she had asked herself that question, it still burned Julia’s mind…and heart.
Julia’s fear that Jon wasn’t being altogether truthful with her stemmed from her common-sense nature. For one thing, she knew that women, lots of women, had been sending more-than-willing signals to her husband for years. And yet, she had never doubted his fidelity. This time was different, for several reasons.
Not the least of which was the strain that had existed between them ever since Jon had refused to perform the surgery on their daughter Emily’s spine, necessitated by a disc ruptured in a fall from a horse. Jon had assisted his old mentor, Dr. Michaelson, but had remained resolute against Julia’s tearful pleas to do the surgery himself.
Oh, of course, Julia was well aware how doctors, especially surgeons, were about treating family members. She even understood their position. But, when their Emily was the patient…
Julia had wanted only the best man for the job, and in her own and countless others’ opinions, Jon was the best, and Julia couldn’t get around that.
The surgery was a success, Emily’s recovery complete. She was even riding again. Still, Jon’s refusal to apply his considerable skill to his own child continued to cause resentment in Julia that had a damaging effect, both on their daily lives and intimate relationship.
At forty-six, Jon was a normal, healthy, passionate and sexy man, as Julia well knew. They seldom made love more than once a week, lately even less than that. But even when they did, it was not the same as before. No matter how hard she tried, and she had tried, Julia just couldn’t seem to get past the residual anger and resentment inside.
Now, after so many long months of strain between them, how could she be expected to believe that he had secretly met with Brooke, kissed her, probably caressed her…and then walked away.
It didn’t seem likely to Julia, as much as she wanted to believe it was the truth.
At present, Jon was in California, attending a medical symposium…supposedly without his right-hand woman—so to speak. But, who knew? Julia couldn’t bring herself to phone either Jon’s office or Brooke’s home to be sure, afraid of what she’d learn.
Julia did love Jon. They had created two beautiful and wonderful children together. And that was why she had agreed to meet him in Philadelphia when the symposium ended—for what he called a second honeymoon, which might have been amusing under different circumstances, considering they had never had a first honeymoon.
The symposium ended Thursday afternoon, wrapping up with a banquet dinner that evening. Jon was booked on a morning flight out of LAX, due to arrive in Philadelphia around dinnertime Friday. Julia had a few more days before he joined her—a few more days to think about where her marriage was going. Would she know by Friday where her feelings were leading her?
Julia dressed in one of her new outfits the next day.
The night before, after eating a good dinner and putting her shopping purchases away, she had talked to the Em and Ems for a few minutes, assuring the girls that, yes, she had bought each of them a small gift while on her spree. She didn’t go on to reveal that the small gifts were gold charm bracelets, which both Ems had been sighing over every time they were in the mall.
Tired from the long, active day, Julia had then dropped like a stone onto the bed. She was asleep within minutes, and had slept until way past her usual wake-up time of six.
Now, standing in front of the full-length mirror mounted on one of the sliding closet doors, Julia critically studied the overall effect of the shantung pantsuit and soft silk blouse beneath.
Not bad, if she did think so herself. The celery-green color of the suit, paired with the delicate spring yellow of the featherlight, sensuous-feeling blouse, seemed to enhance the medium brown of her hair and eyes, both of which she normally considered ordinary.
“You’ll do,” she told herself aloud. Turn
ing away from the mirror, her gaze collided with the clock on the bedside cabinet. The digital numbers read 12:56.
Damn, she’d have to run or be late, Julia thought, scooping up her purse as she headed for the door. Good thing the restaurant was right across the street.
She was late, by two minutes; she had had to wait several minutes for an elevator. And then she had to wait on line at the hostess’s station.
Damn and double damn. Julia glanced at her watch. She hated being late. She felt over-warm and extremely annoyed with herself by the time she finally stepped up to the cool, calm and attractive hostess.
Julia could have happily disliked the woman, if she hadn’t been so darn pleasant.
“Good afternoon.” The woman flashed a friendly smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologized, actually sounding as if she meant it. “Do you have a reservation?”
“No…yes. I’m meeting friends. I think the reservations under the…”
“Are you Mrs. Langston?”
“Yes, but how…” she began, only to be interrupted, if politely, for the second time.
“Mrs. Hartline was a bit early, and she gave me an excellent description of you before your other friend arrived.” She smiled and gestured with a slim hand. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
Julia followed, her agitation soothed by the pleasantly accommodating woman. She spied her friends before they saw her approaching their table. Laura and Krissy were so busy talking, they didn’t appear to notice anyone else in the room.
While still a few feet from the table, Julia halted the hostess with a touch on her arm. “I’ll go on from here,” she explained. “I want to surprise my one friend.”
With a smile and a gracious inclination of her head, the hostess withdrew.
A laugh at the ready, Julia slowly walked to the table, waiting with eager impatience to be noticed, gazing down at Krissy’s beautiful, animated face.
A moment passed, then two. Krissy was talking away a mile a minute. Julia could tell that Laura was aware of her presence by the sparkle of anticipation brightening her eyes.
Another moment passed…and then, as if she were suddenly aware of being stared at, at close range, a frown of annoyance marred Krissy’s smooth brow and she grew stiff. Her chin rising with regal hauteur, Krissy slowly turned her head—and immediately lost her dramatic composure.
For an instant, Krissy simply sat there, delighted surprise wiping away the frown and haughty expression. Then she damn near screeched.
“Julie.” Oblivious to the startled looks sent her way from the surrounding tables, Krissy jumped out of her chair and circled the table to fling herself into the outstretched arms of her laughing friend. “I don’t believe this.” She shot a glance at a grinning Laura, then back to Julia. “This is incredible. It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“It’s wonderful seeing you, too,” Julia said, laughing. She gave Krissy another hug, quickly releasing her, afraid her embrace had been too enthusiastic when Krissy made a slight, quick wince. “May I join you two?”
“May you?” Krissy was laughing again. “You had better join us.” She leveled a stern look at Laura. “This was a setup, wasn’t it,” she accused in a teasing tone, and went on without waiting for an answer. “No wonder this third place setting wasn’t removed, and you were in no hurry to order.”
As soon as Julia and Krissy were seated the three friends started talking, all at the same time.
“This is so cool.” Krissy.
“Yeah. I knew you’d be floored.” Laura.
“I’m so happy I could cry.” Julia.
“Don’t you dare, because then I’ll cry and my mascara will run.”
“Me, too. I mean cry. I never wear mascara.”
At that point, their server, a really good-looking guy in his early twenties, came to the table to take their lunch orders. They paused just long enough to quickly glance at the menu and place their orders…All except Krissy, who paused an extra moment to level a sidelong look of interested admiration at the young man.
He blushed and beat a hasty retreat.
The chatter immediately resumed.
“Julia, you look terrific,” Krissy said, sweeping a miss-nothing glance over Julia.
“Yeah,” Laura agreed, grinning. “If you didn’t love her, couldn’t you just hate ’er?”
“Yeah.” Krissy grinned back at Laura. “And I adore that outfit.”
“Well…thank you.” Julia laughed, flushed with pleasure. “I’m glad you love me…and the outfit.” She returned Krissy’s all-over glance. Her mass of tight-curly hair was still the same flame-shot auburn, a shade of red no artificial color or skillful hairstylists could duplicate. Her skin was still fine and smooth, flawless, nearly translucent. And Julia had ascertained, even with that quick glimpse, that her figure was damn near perfect. “Needless to say, you’re as gorgeous as ever.”
Krissy laughed, displaying perfect white teeth, and nearly stunned the server into dropping the glasses of white wine he was carrying to their table.
Life wasn’t fair. Julia smiled inside at the thought, simply because she had had the exact same thought so many times before. Even as a child, Krissy had been a beauty. She’d always been stunning men, young and not so young, with her dazzling looks and smile.
“I work at looking good, love,” Krissy blithely admitted, tormenting the fiery-cheeked server with another dazzler, just for him.
“You always have…or at any rate, you have since your teens,” Laura said, in a dry, teasing tone.
While they ate their meals, the conversation was sporadic and general. Innocuous comments were made on the weather, the changes to Center City since last they were there. They discussed the decor, excellent service and food of the relatively new restaurant and other such scintillating topics.
It was only after they had finished eating, their plates removed and their wineglasses refilled, that they settled back and got down to some real talk.
“Laura, honey, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you really have let yourself go.”
“I know, I know.” Laura sighed. “But since I quit smoking I…” She shrugged.
“That excuse just won’t wash any more. It’s been, how long now?” Krissy held up a hand to fend off an answer. “Never mind. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s been long enough. I have an exercise DVD I can send you. As far as I’m concerned, it’s as good as a personal trainer. I use it myself. I’ll send along my diet program. It works.” She raised perfectly arched auburn eyebrows. “Will you use them?”
“You diet and work out?” Disbelief colored Laura’s voice. “Regularly?”
“As clockwork.” Krissy was not about to be sidetracked. “Will you?”
“What does the diet consist of?” Laura asked, her expression skeptical. “Rabbit food without dressing like you picked at for lunch?”
Krissy sighed. “No, it calls for real food, balanced and in moderation. I deliberately ‘picked’ at my lunch because I intend to pig out on your mother’s dinner. So, if I send the tools, will you use them?”
“Oh, Krissy, I might give it a try, but I can’t promise anything,” Laura hedged. “I mean, with the kids and everything, I don’t know if I…”
“Damn it, Laura, honey, you’re going to be forty in a couple months.” Krissy said, “You’re a lovely woman, and it’s time you got your act together and whipped yourself back into shape.”
“I’m a lovely woman?” Laura choked on a disbelieving spurt of laughter.
“Well, of course you are,” Krissy retorted.
“But…” Laura began.
“You always were,” Julia inserted.
Laura shot an astounded look at Julia. “You think so, too, you always have?”
“Yes, of course I always have,” she insisted, frowning in confusion.
“But…no.” Laura shook her head, sending her dull brown hair—formerly a luxurious dark chocolate, and now badly in need of conditioning tre
atments, not to mention a good professional cut—flying around her shoulders. “Krissy was always the pretty one.”
“No,” Julia said, smiling at the redhead. “Krissy was always the beautiful one.” Krissy inclined her head in acceptance, and smiled back. Julia’s gaze and smile returned to Laura. “You and I had to be satisfied with being the merely attractive sidekicks.”
“And quite often,” Krissy said, “merely attractive matures into really lovely.”
Looking flabbergasted, Laura whooshed back in her chair. “I don’t believe this.” Her astonished gaze shifted from one friend to the other. “You’re serious. Both of you. Why didn’t you ever say anything before?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Krissy slanted a bemused glance at Julia, as if seeking guidance.
“Don’t look at me,” Julia drawled, shrugging. “I always thought she knew what she looked like.”
“Yeah,” Laura inserted, “the plain Jane of the trio.”
“I just might smack her for that stupid remark,” Krissy informed Julia in a conversational tone, while making a point of ignoring Laura.
“Oh, please don’t,” Julia pleaded, the light of laughter dancing in her eyes. “At least, not here, in public.”
“Oh Lord.” Laura rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s changed, it’s just like old times. You two are nuts as ever.”
“Okay, I can’t slug her here.” Still ignoring Laura, Krissy again spoke directly to Julia. “So, let’s get out of here. We can dash right across the street, zip up the elevator to my suite, kick off our shoes and get comfortable. And then we’ll beat her up.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Julia agreed, glancing around the room. “Let’s get the check.”
“I’ve already taken care of it, love,” Krissy said. “I handed the waiter my credit card when he refilled our glasses.” Her glance tracked Julia’s. “All we have to wait for…ah, here he comes now for my autograph.”
“But I haven’t finished my wine,” Laura protested, lifting the still nearly-full glass as proof.
“Oh, shut up, Laura,” Krissy ordered, signing her name with a flourish on the receipt, and handing it back to the server with a mind-bending smile. He stumbled a retreat; she took a quick glance at the fabulous diamond-encrusted watch on her delicate wrist, then looked straight at Laura. “It is 2:30 now. What time is your mother expecting us for dinner?”