There was silence on the other side of the door, then she heard, “Hmph!” and footsteps dying away as she left.
Kailen grunted. “Like mother like daughter, I see.” He bent his head to lick the tender skin on her neck.
“I’ve got to go,” she whispered, still not breaking away.
“Mm-hmm.”
Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from him. “What am I going to do with you?”
He raked his hands through his hair and sighed. “Well, I had an idea.”
She smiled. “Later.”
He cocked his head. “I guess it will have to be.” Giving her a quick kiss he added, “You go ahead. I’m not in any shape to be seen in public yet.”
She nodded and slipped out. Calming her breath and straightening her clothes, she wondered yet again how she would find the courage to come right out and say she loved him. She wondered in fact if she could. Until today, she’d managed to keep their worlds separate, and she liked it like that. But if they carved any future for themselves—even as lovers, like they were now—their worlds would have to collide sooner or later. That was her purpose in inviting him today. It was an opening gambit, to test the waters on both sides.
The day hadn’t been a rousing success in that Kailen had remained apart from the men, but it hadn’t been a disaster, either. He could simply be a quirky addition to the occasional corporate functions she was expected to attend. What they did outside her work environment was their secret, and had to stay that way. If The Wives, who had heart palpitations over a sexy party gown, ever got wind of how she dressed when she went out with Kailen, it would not be good for her. If they ever discovered what she did with him, it wouldn’t be tolerated; people at MiBar had been dismissed for less than screwing in a public hallway. She’d been playing with fire, and knew it. She just had to make sure she didn’t get burned.
Time to think about that later.
She strolled into the party room and saw that several gifts were being passed around so that everyone could look them before they were set aside. Derica had never known an older woman who fussed so much over birthdays. From the look on Daniel’s face, she thought he must feel the same way. He smiled wryly at her and raised a whiskey tumbler in a silent toast.
As she made her way around the edge of the table, a scream pierced the air. Panicked, she pushed through the crowd to Hannah, who stared at her in disgust, her mouth open, hand to her heart.
“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Derica took her arm and tried to get her to sit, but Hannah yanked her arm away.
“You—you…! How dare you give this to me!”
“What is it?” She looked at the table and saw what everyone else stared at. A small oil painting of her.
Unlike Kailen’s usual style, the form wasn’t blurred, so there really was no question regarding the identity of the model. She wasn’t naked, but she might as well have been, since she wore nothing but Kailen’s dress shirt. Only the last three buttons were secured and one smooth, alabaster breast with its dusky nipple stood exposed to the viewer. A necktie slashed with primary colors hung untied, streaks of vibrancy against the white of the shirt. Her head was twisted to the left and one hand raked through her hair while the other caressed her mound, the hem of the shirt pulled up enough to reveal the darkened triangle of curls.
The room turned deadly silent. For one moment, she couldn’t remember to breathe. Her mind didn’t grasp the trouble she was in, that the two worlds she’d held so carefully apart had now crashed into one another at the worst time. All she could think about was how well composed the art work was and how her lover had captured the sexiest essence of her.
Kailen!
Derica looked for him and saw his grim face watching her. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
She shook her head.
“I want them out of my house!” Hannah broke the silence and suddenly everyone began talking.
Some adults ushered children from the room. Others, a good many of them men, pushed forward to get a better look at the oil. Daniel appeared beside her and reached for the painting, but Hannah snatched it from his reach. When she raised it above her head to smash it against the table, Derica found her strength and her voice.
“Don’t, Hannah. That’s mine.” Reaching up, she firmly took the framed piece from the older women. “There’s been a mistake.”
“You’re right, there has been.” Hannah glared at her husband. “For years I’ve told you what kind of woman I thought she was, and now you see that I was right. And you were going to give her that promo…”
“Stop it, Hannah.” His tone, modulated but firm, halted her mid-sentence. With a hand on her shoulder, he pushed her back into her seat. “Finish the party or not. I have business to take care of.”
“Business with her, I imagine, now that you’ve seen what she’s willing to do.” Uncomfortable, people began leaving the room. “Look what you’ve done,” she said to Derica. “Look!”
Clutching her painting, Derica allowed Daniel to guide her to his study. She couldn’t look at Kailen, couldn’t imagine what this would do to her future and to them.
In seconds, she and Daniel were joined by three of the partners. They all looked dour. With a cry, she sank into a chair, envisioning all she’d worked for swirl down the drain like dirty bathwater.
CHAPTER SEVEN
For over an hour Kailen had alternately sat on Derica’s apartment steps and paced the sidewalk in front. All he thought about was the expression on her face when she’d looked up at him. Horror, shame, resignation that she wouldn’t get the promotion. Maybe acknowledgement that she might not keep her job. And it was all his fault.
Why the hell didn’t I leave that damn thing at home and give it to her later? He knew why. He’d wanted her to see it in contrast to her apartment, her ordered life that reflected her ordered career. He wanted to shock her, to force her to see how different their lives were. Only after she recognized the stark contrast could she consider whether or not merging their lives was possible. It was too easy for them to let the difficult decisions slide in the comfort of his place. If she decided she couldn’t be with him any more, he didn’t know how he would stand it, but better now than a month from now, when the pain would be that much worse. Only by startling her could he be sure she really understood the change she’d have to make.
Well, he’d startled her all right.
A cab pulled up and Derica got out, then leaned back in to pay the driver. When she turned and saw him, she nodded but didn’t smile. She held the painting tightly to her chest, as she had when she left the room at the MacNaught’s.
“Why didn’t you stay?” She looked wrung out.
“I was ordered out by Hannah McNaught. She actually threatened to call the police if I waited out front for you, and…” he raked his hand through his thick, black hair “—frankly I was so pissed I started driving and when I looked up, I was here.” He tried to gauge her attitude. It was strange, but she didn’t seem too upset or angry. “I’m sorry I left you.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Come upstairs and talk.”
Heaving a sigh of relief, he followed her inside. She didn’t speak or try to touch him in the elevator, or after she’d opened the apartment door and locked it after him.
Tossing her purse on the coffee table, she sank onto the sofa and kicked off her shoes. He stood, uneasy at how unemotional she seemed. He’d never really seen her mad—was this the calm before the storm?
“Derica, I swear to God I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Somehow—I don’t know how—the wrapping on the two packages was so close they were almost identical. You picked up the wrong one.”
She shook her head. “No, I asked Martha’s son to bring in the package on the floor in the back of the car. I didn’t know there were two.”
“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m so damned sorry.” He began to pace. His mind raced with what he could do to make everything better for her, but the only thing he could think of
was… He gulped, took a deep breath and turned to her.
“Look, I don’t have to model. If I didn’t, I’d cut my hair. And I wasn’t always a courier, you know. I actually had a real job, in an office.” He smiled at her sudden look of interest. Kneeling beside the sofa, he took her hand in his. “I was actually quite good at commercial art, so money wouldn’t be a problem for us. And painting can take a backseat in my life for a change.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “What are you saying? You can’t give up painting. It’s what you are, what you do.” She glanced at the work she held. “And what you do is wonderful.”
He was puzzled. “So you’d be comfortable working at MiBar and being with me?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed at what must have been utter confusion on his face. “I can’t stay at MiBar, they fired me.”
“Fired you?” Kailen surged to his feet and began pacing again.
“After telling me they’d decided to give me the promotion.” Her voice sounded wistful.
“Bastards!”
To his surprise, she seemed to blow it all off. Crossing her ankles on the coffee table, she leaned back into the sofa. “Turns out, there’s a morals clause in my employment contract. Who reads all the fine print, anyway?” She actually laughed.
He stopped pacing to stare at her in amazement.
“It’s all right, Steven. We’ll work things out, now that we know we love each other.”
Steven? We love each other? Without a word he sat beside her, waiting for her to explain.
“I felt pretty awful when Daniel took me into the study. Mike Hawkins—remember him? The president of the company?”
Kailen nodded.
“He started, saying he understood what I did outside the office was my own business but that the painting showed him that I was engaged in activities that might end up in public, and which didn’t fit the image the company wanted to portray. The fact that I’d brought the painting into the house where there were children… Well, you can guess the rest. Daniel did everything he could for me, but with no luck.”
She sighed, looking so sad he wanted to crush her to him, to comfort her.
“I was so disappointed, I can’t even express it. I deserved that promotion, damn it! And for them to take it away over something that was none of their business?” She shook her head and took a breath before continuing. “Through most of it I sat listening, stunned that all I’d worked so hard for was disappearing, and then I looked at this.” She held up the painting. “And I saw it.”
“Saw what?” Hell, he wished she’d get to the point. He didn’t think he could wait much longer to hear her say again that she loved him.
“The art. The intent behind what you’d painted. And this.” Tapping her nail against the lower right hand corner, she pointed to his name. “S. Hooper. Not Kailen, like you sign all of your work. There was more than sexuality in this work, there was something deeper. My features are sharp and clear. That shows how you think of me. This work is from Steven’s heart, not Kailen’s brush.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but does it make you hot?”
Laughing, she grinned back. “You know it does.” She put the painting in her lap. “Today hasn’t been all bad news. They kind of know they’re on thin ice because to my knowledge, that morals clause has never been used,” she said. “No one can prove I posed for the painting or that I even knew it existed.” She stared at him pointedly. “Which I didn’t. So they gave me the severance package designated in my contract and a very nice … bonus, I guess you could call it,” she said, grinning. “I’ve heard of a hiring bonus, but never a firing bonus. Anyway, this is bribery, no doubt, but it’ll get me over the hump until another job opens. I made a call to a friend on the way home and I don’t think I’ll be out of work for long.”
Steven took the artwork and laid it on the table before pulling her onto his lap. “Say it, Derica, and I’ll say it back.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and gazed into his eyes. “I love you, Steven. I love you, Kailen. I love you, no matter what you call yourself.”
Gently, his lips caressed hers. “I love you, Derica.” He smiled against her lips. “But no one calls me Steven any more.”
“I will,” she vowed, “in moments of greatest passion.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think I feel such a moment coming on very soon.”
“Do you?” He arranged her more comfortably over his cock.
“Make me call you Steven.”
“I will, sweetheart. Right now.”
* * * *
Derica couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that she wasn’t exhausted; she was, after the events of the day. But she was happy, too, and excited. The luminescent dial on the clock showed two in the morning. Steven snored softly beside her, but she knew if she got up he would wake, so she contented herself with lying there, absorbing his warmth.
Funny how easy it was thinking of him as Steven after the weeks of calling him Kailen. She loved that it was their name, their secret to share. Even his brother, Nick, referred to him as Kailen. But for her there would forever be a difference in her mind between Kailen and Steven, although they were the same wonderful man. Her man.
After making love on the sofa, they’d dressed and gone out for dinner. Over the meal he’d told her about his wife and how she’d tried to make him into something he wasn’t. Her heart swelled that he’d been willing to make those changes for her when he thought it would help her. Derica had assured him that she could never ask him to give up his work. They’d find a way to work out their different lifestyles, no matter what it took, and maintain the essence of what made them who they were.
A small irritant continued to niggle at her. Their clothes were strewn from the front door to the bedroom, carelessly dropped where they’d been removed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to bed without putting her things away. A lifetime of discipline, and where had it gotten her?
Habits formed in life had kept her apartment neat as a pin, her CDs in alphabetical order, her shoes arranged by style and color. But it was a place she’d inhabited alone. Discipline at work had kept her devoted to a job for years that was lost in the blink of an eye. Of course, without the regimentation she wouldn’t have risen to the position she’d held, wouldn’t have gone to that office party or worn a stunning gown that caught the attention of a sexy, handsome model.
Steven hummed in his sleep, rolled over and pulled her against him. “Yes, indeed,” she whispered, “just look where discipline’s gotten me.”
She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
* * * *
“Gramps, I wouldn’t say that spell was very successful.” Edwina turned from the front window where she’d watched Derica snuggle against Kailen.
“You wouldn’t, my dear? Why ever not?” Nigel raised his brows at his granddaughter.
“Well, usually we disappear after the first visit. Derica had to come in twice in order for things to work out.” She frowned. “Didn’t I do the dress right?”
Nigel leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “You did the spell perfectly, Edwina. You’re learning so fast. The dress was to get Derica in the photo shoot. The package was to get her to see that Steven loved her. If not for the mix-up in packages, they might have stumbled through more weeks of not knowing how the other felt, and it was time they moved on and start having little ones.”
“So sometimes a second zap is necessary?”
His moustache twitched. Straightening to his full height he looked down at her with a stern expression. “We do not ‘zap,’ Edwina, we nudge. It’s up to the humans to follow where we nudge, but that’s all we do. And yes, sometimes it takes more than once.”
Her smile brought a corresponding smile to her grandfather’s face. “Okay, I think I see now.” Happy, she moved to the back of the store. “I think I’ll make us some tea. And maybe we have some of that bread left, and some blackberry jam. Where are we going next?”
Nigel followed Edwina. “Tea and bread sounds very good, my dear. And we’re going to Virginia. Have you been with me to Virginia before?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, you’ll like it. The mountains are soft and covered in trees, and there’re pockets of mystery and magic left there from the old days, when the hills were young.”
“Hmm, sounds lovely.”
“It is, as you will see.”
AWARDS NIGHT
by
Dee S. Knight
CHAPTER ONE
Allison Hayes berated herself for the millionth time as she hurried up the street. Spending her lunch hour shopping wasn’t her greatest desire, but she had little choice.
Why had she agreed to help at the reunion yet again? Hadn’t she been masochistic enough when they’d celebrated being out of high school five years? She’d handled all of the arrangements then. And when the tenth anniversary arrived, hadn’t she accepted the tasks of tracking down everyone in their class, bringing in the entertainment and setting up the welcome dinner?
As the third reunion approached, she’d determined to stay out of it. Yet here she was, sucked in again. At least this time she only had responsibility for handling the welcome table for the mix-and-mingle dinner on Saturday. The opening ceremonies, as it were.
“And I think that will be the extent of my appearances, too,” she mumbled. Why emphasize the chasm that existed between her and her classmates one more time?
The first reunion hadn’t been so bad in that respect. Everyone either had recently graduated from college or was trying to establish their place in the world in some way. She’d felt on equal footing. At the next, she had been among the few who weren’t married, one of only a handful who hadn’t left the Lexington area. This year, she knew she would be almost alone in her single status. Probably a few of her classmates had been divorced and remarried, even, sampling two or three times what she hadn’t known at all. She would feel odd and provincial, still being unmarried and never having left their small hometown.
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