Scrambled Babies

by Babe Hayes

  Almost immediately the maitre d’ swept them to a table, and soon drinks miraculously appeared. Paeton’s head and heart swirled with the ice in her drink. She had never drunk a Bloody Mary, or any alcoholic drink for that matter, at this hour of the morning. She watched her hand reach across the table. In response, Steve’s hand found hers and rested wonderfully on it. She absorbed the rightness of Steve’s hand holding hers.

  She lifted her eyes from their joined hands to Steve’s eyes! A kaleidoscope of stars and planets tumbled crazily into view. All the wrong things and all the right things welled up from her deepest places. A shard of guilt pierced her heart as Kevin’s spirit asked for recognition. But she couldn’t keep her chest from swelling, her legs and nether regions from singing in rhythm to the dancing heavenly bodies in Steve Kaselman’s demon eyes.

  She watched Steve put down his drink.

  “The network has a suite here.” He pushed his chair back and carefully removed his hand from hers. His eyes never left hers as he came around the table to usher her from her seat. She found herself spinning her head to keep their eyes touching. She felt Steve spinning her heart into the palm of his magnificent hand. Kevin’s shadowy spirit or no, she knew there was no thwarting her stampeding desire!

  Paeton quivered and took his hand again. They were moving, but she said not a word. Something was moving her. Something she had no control over. Something she knew had always been lying in wait behind Steve’s eyes since that day of destiny at JFK International.

  They were at the door of the network’s suite. She heard the click on the lock allowing them to enter.

  They were inside. She turned her flushed face to meet his waiting lips. What she felt wasn’t a kiss. It was a tongue of fire! Was she in heaven—or hell? The sentry inside her soul had abandoned its post. She was at the mercy of those flaming eyes. That mouth of fire. Something in her attempted one final effort to ward off the total consummation ahead. Too late. There was no battle to be waged. It had been decided by a greater power than she.

  Steve moved his mouth down her neck to the top of her heaving breasts. She flung her head back. She captured great handfuls of his hair in her hands, and he moaned. Great god, how could anyone feel like this!

  It was at that moment she realized all the love scenes she had written for her books had been altered versions from other romance novels, not from her own experience. She had never tasted her own ecstasy until now—now with Steve Kaselman, the man who would shack up, the jock who would be her demise!

  “You all right?” Steve barely managed to get out the words between heaving breaths. “We’re about to make love, you know.”

  Paeton could manage only a nod, her body quaking with anticipation. His amazing words fueled Paeton’s desire. Since when had urgency and caring come together in a man? Could Steve be this lustful and this loving simultaneously?

  She answered by gently biting his lower lip while she began unbuttoning his shirt.

  His hands were inexorably approaching the blouse that veiled her feverish, swelling bosom. His fingers worked nimbly, and soon her taut nipples greeted his greedy mouth. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt the fire in her spreading indiscriminately.

  They flowed in an ocean of rapture into the bedroom, two waves rising, anticipating cresting in a height of untold pleasure. But not so blind to the ascent as to forsake reveling in the outposts of rhapsody visited before the rolling crescendo.

  Now Paeton was inside her wave. She was buoyed by a sea of honey on a newly discovered planet where Steve’s hands and mouth fed her entire body, and she dined on the pleasures of his.

  Bared in body and soul, they toured the planet of their desire. Her nakedness peaked and burned the torrid flesh of Steve’s chest. Her nether regions blossomed in the hot summer rain of Steve’s mouth. Every inch of her body pulsated with a life of its own. Every inch sucked in the magnificence of the man enfolding her. She became an erotic vessel to be filled with Steve’s majestic manhood.

  They were two searching lovers who had finally been cast together in a tumult of exuberance. Every touch, every taste, every sight, every sound, flooded them with treasures of the sexuality of a love that had sprung to life in that fleeting moment. Paeton, until now untouched by true yearning, felt the release of a tethered desire storm from her soul to be met by Steve’s own glorious passion.

  She teased him and he groaned, asking her never to stop. She played him like a musical instrument, fed on him, a tender tropical fruit, making him wet with her mouth.

  Paeton could feel the pleading of Steve’s urgency He stopped her feeding and moved down her body, his eager mouth and tongue searching her, bringing her to even greater heights of abandon. Her breathing mounted, fiery and urgent. She wanted him to dive deeply with her, to couple perfectly, and then to explode out of this nectar, gulping for air, and finally, to be totally spent, lying together on the sun-drenched beach of sublime release.

  He entered her. Magnificently. The moment shrieked. Her craving enclosed them—they came together in a furious uplifting, and she heard the song of ocean angels. She felt herself tossed to mingle with these new heavenly bodies she and Steve had invented. She achieved her rapturous crescendo. Then began the languid, sultry descent, complete fulfillment pervading her body and soul for the first time. She lay quietly, the scent and warmth of Steve’s body lingering on hers like a thousand lily petals driven by a heavy thunderstorm. Their breathing slowed. Their senses drenched, they wandered helplessly into each other’s eyes.

  Then a shiver crossed Paeton’s soul like the long, jagged shadows thrown by the Embarcadero buildings. Could anything prepare her for the new life this destiny had lured her into?

  #

  Steve’s eyes caressed a sleeping Paeton as he dialed room service. His voice roused her and she sat up. Her modesty had returned somewhat; she held the sheet against her still-ripe breasts while observing Steve on the phone.

  “Trouble?” she frowned.

  Steve shook his head grinning and held up his hand. “Yes, room 1201. Thank you.” He hung up the phone. “Breakfast.” He came over and kissed her gently, not ready to awaken any new frolicking at the moment. But he could feel the kiss perhaps encouraged Paeton to start their lovemaking anew.

  It was true. Everything felt so right for lovemaking. As if they’d been waking up together forever. There was an eerie ease about them. A rhythm that hinted they had been doing this perhaps in another life.

  As Steve approached the bed, Paeton clicked the remote control to turn on TV, probably out of habit. The local newsbreak blipped on. He sneaked in between the sheets next to her. He put his hand on her thigh. Still only friendly for now. But not for long. He had never been so completely fulfilled. She wriggled and gave Steve a morning kiss—past friendly. He still held back for now.

  “And now the headlines. CBS sportscaster and columnist Steve Kaselman has blamed Paeton McPhilomy for the baby mix-up that occurred at JFK International a month ago. This from In Your Face. The article quotes a cell phone conversation between Kaselman and his agent, Maury Cohen, and claims Kaselman said, ‘She left me with the wrong baby. What else could I do?’”

  Paeton turned her head to him, her eyes glazed with disbelief, anger, and pain. She vaulted from the bed and stumbled hysterically into the bathroom. Steve shuddered at the grotesque sounds she left in her wake.

  He raced after her only to have the bathroom door slammed in his face. “Paeton! Paeton! Please! It’s not what you think! I can explain! Paeton!”

  Paeton’s hoarse voice gagged out, “Explain-to-my-lawyer!”

  Steve pounded on the door frantically. He couldn’t believe what was happening.

  “Go away!” Paeton screamed. “I never want you to darken my life again! You—you traitor! You jock-traitor! House-stealer! I hope you rot in that house. Now get out of my room!”

  Steve tried to suppress an automatic chuckle. “But this is my room.”

  “Kaselman! Leave me a
lone! Now! I mean it! There is no making up after this. This is not a fight! This is a lawsuit! Leave!”

  Steve heard the shower go on full force. “But—”

  He turned and saw the unmade bed. The place where he had, moments ago, made a trip with the most bewitching woman in the world. A trip he wanted to book permanent reservations for. Now, from the sound of this woman who had seized his entire being, he instead had a one-way ticket to Legal Junction.

  Steve retreated from the bathroom door. He sat on the bed staring blankly, stupefied. For the first time in his life, he could find no humor in a situation.

  #

  The impossible news story had drained Paeton of any feeling. She stood under the stinging shower of ice cold water, bile rising in her throat, hoping to numb sensation from her body. She was traumatized! Decimated! She began cursing herself for committing the most colossally stupid blunder she had ever made. After all her years of vowing never to put herself in a situation where she could again suffer jock-betrayal, she had put her entire soul precisely on that sacrificial altar. There, while beating most fervently, her heart had been cleaved indifferently from her body!

  The shock was stunning. She looked down, the water running off her breasts, rather expecting to see an empty cavity where her heart had resided, blood mingling with water.

  Reality began to invade her mind. Feeling was returning. Her legs started to give way. She thought she might vomit. She cringed now as she felt the strike of each icy needle of water, a piercing kiss from her former lover.

  She fell to her knees in the pelting spray. She had never felt so alone. There was no comfort. No comfort!

  Suddenly, the pain! It took her breath away. She struggled not to be swept away in despair. She reached out to her courage, searching for a path of action. She found her spirit. And her spirit told her that at all costs, she must take charge. Her brain told her that the only road up from hell was anger. She had to move from hurt to hate!

  She swallowed back the rising bile and rose from her knees, feeling like a maimed animal. She summoned a fiery ball of hate from the depths of her bowels. She gripped the shower curtain with all her hurt, and ripping it violently from the rod, she vented the longest, most primal scream of her life.

  Yes! Now she was hateful!

  #

  Paeton was standing, quaking with rage, in front of Fred’s desk. It was the morning after the hideous betrayal in San Francisco.

  “I told you to watch out for that guy.” Fred was covering his bases.

  Paeton rolled her eyes and spat out, “You never said anything of the kind. You said, and I quote, ‘You must work as a team with Kaselman.’ Remember?”

  Fred couldn’t face her. “Well, what I meant was—”

  “It doesn’t matter. We’ve cleared all the hurdles. My sales are up, right? Except for this poor-excuse-for-a-human-being jock, I’m back on track with my career, right?”

  “Right. The scrambled-baby business has blown over, and now all you have to do is get back on track with the screenplay and book tours.”

  “Great! But that’s not all I have to do. I’m going to make that jock’s life so miserable that he’ll wish he’d never gone to any airport, ever! His new diaper endorsement, that’s a good place to rake in some money, right?”

  Fred looked across the desk in silence.

  “Don’t look at me that way, Fred.” Paeton could tell Fred was upset with her apparently greedy intentions. “It’s not his money I want. What I want is—”

  “You slept with him, didn’t you?” Fred spoke matter-of-factly, but was unable to mask the pain in his eyes.

  Fred’s words made Paeton realize her heart had not left her body after all. Fred had cleaved it in half again. She tried to stay on the offensive. “When’s Larry going to get here?”

  “Supposed to be here now. But you know lawyers.” Fred rolled a pen around from one hand to the other. “What are we suing Kaselman for again?”

  Paeton jumped out of the plush leather side-chair. “How should I know? Libel, mental distress, something, anything! I want to see the bastard squirm! I want to see his career hit bottom. I want him to be the most miserable human being—pardon the compliment—on earth.”

  “Aren’t you being a little extreme? All he said was—”

  Paeton came over, leaned on the desk, and seethed, “I-know-what-he-said, Fred.”

  Buzz! Fred’s intercom broke into their conversation. “Fred, line three. Can you take it?”

  Paeton turned away from the desk. “Please take it. Don’t let me interrupt your business, Fred.” Then before he could pick it up, she turned back to him. “I’m sorry you’re the one who gets my anger. You don’t deserve it, Fred. You’ve been the best.”

  Fred reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. I understand.” He picked up the phone. “Fred here.”

  Paeton paced as she waited for Fred to speak. When Fred was silent for too long, Paeton came back to the desk.

  “It’s for you.” Fred held out the phone.

  Paeton staggered slightly in her three-inch heels. She knew who it was. She folded her arms. “Tell him he’s talking to you because that’s as close as he gets to me. You or Larry!”

  Fred extended the phone farther across the desk. “He says it’s a mistake. He can explain everything—soon.”

  “Soon? Soon? So he can’t explain it right now? He needs some time to fabricate some elaborate lie?” Paeton could feel the hurt smashing through the hate. The room started to close in on her. She spun and made for the door, calling over her shoulder, “Text me when Larry gets here. I’ll be in the coffee shop.”

  Paeton reeled crazily out of Fred’s office and got on the elevator. She started the thirty-story ride down. The door slid open at floor twenty-nine to admit Steve Kaselman. She gasped.

  “Hello, Paeton. Whoops, I’ll get your lawyer. So we can talk.”

  Paeton flushed in spite of herself. She was careful to keep a grave face. “Well, if it isn’t humor-in-every-situation Kaselman.”

  “I try.”

  “Well, your humor leaves me yawning.” Her breathing shallow, she strove for an unperturbed front. “You knew very well I would be on this elevator, didn’t you?”

  “Guilty. Ask me how I did it.”

  “I don’t care how you did it.” Although Steve made no move toward her, Paeton backed away from him. “Keep away from me.”

  Steve kept his distance. “I’m not going to cause a scene. I want to talk to you privately. I figured this was one way.”

  Her breathing eased some. “You should know I’m actively pursuing a lawsuit.”

  Steve leaned toward the elevator-button pad and pushed every button. “You mentioned that yesterday when you slammed the bathroom door in my face,” he said bitterly.

  His forcing up the memory of the betrayal made her blood run as cold as the shower she had turned on herself. Her knees warned of collapse, but Paeton knew she had to maintain a strong posture against his attempt to re-establish something positive between them. “What—what are you doing? We’ll stop at every floor.”

  “Exactly. I want to spend some time with you. Here wouldn’t be my first choice, but it’s better than nothing.”

  The elevator stopped at twenty, and no one got on.

  “I’ll push the alarm.” She took a faltering step toward the button pad, but Steve was blocking it.

  Steve gave no ground. “Don’t, Paeton. Please. Paeton, I know I never said it during, you remember when, but you must know I love—”

  “I’m going to marry Fred.” She rode over his words. She started to look him in the eye, thought better of it, and looked away.

  Paeton could see Steve’s eye twitch. “Does Fred know about this?”

  Paeton felt a twinge of guilt. “Well, not yet, but—”

  “It’s not fair to him, you know. You won’t come close to having the times you know we can have. You’ll yearn for those times. You’ll resent Fred for not being
able to give them to you. If you’ll please give me a chance, I’ll prove—”

  “I simply want a normal life, Ste—Kaselman. You betrayed me. Betrayed me like all the others. I thought there was hope you might be different. But you’re the same. You are a selfish, traitorous jock. I can never get over that.”

  “I didn’t betray you. In your heart you must know I could never do that. They doctored the conversation. I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

  “The fact that you even had the conversa—it doesn’t matter. I heard the words.” She fought the faltering in her voice, but the path of a single tear betrayed her. “You’re just like Tommy and Woody. They came. They conquered. They left.”

  She stepped in front of Steve. “I’m getting off the next time this door opens.”

  The elevator stopped at the next floor.

  “Paeton! Wait! Please!”

  She started to exit the car, but Steve grabbed her arm. The elevator door closed.

  “Take your hands off me. I never want you to touch me again.” She thrust her free hand toward the button pad. “I mean it. I’ll ring the alarm.”

  Steve dropped her arm. “Fine,” he said, resolution in his voice. “I guess I have to get you undeniable proof.”

  The elevator opened at the next floor.

  “I don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. For good!”

  Paeton stepped out and held the door open to deliver her farewell. “Good-bye, Kaselman!” And his name came out as if she were trying to rid it from her soul. “The next time we see each other will be in court. Don’t try playing this elevator game ever again.”

  As she released the door, Steve stepped halfway from the car to block the doors from closing.

  Paeton held up both hands as if to deflect a blow. “Ever again!”

  She turned her back on him and marched unsteadily toward the elevator call button to summon another car. She vowed she would never let Steve Kaselman have any effect on her again. She would marry Fred. She would start a normal life once more.