Malcolm shook his head. “Afraid not. Joy will want to check out your chakras before the week’s out. Anyway, go and grab Clancy, she’ll be eternally grateful.” He held out his hand and Amanda took it. Malcolm led her into the hall where the lighting had been dimmed to strings of multicolored fairy lights and couples swayed and twirled to a Motown classic. Malcolm pointed across the room to where Clancy’s golden mane caught the glow and shimmered. He leaned in to Amanda’s ear. “Whatever you do, don’t get caught up with the Joneses. They’re piranhas, get her away and come dance.” He disappeared into the crowd toward the stage and the disco setup and Amanda went in the other direction, keeping her eyes on Clancy as she threaded her way between the dancers.
Although she liked the fun of the rescue plan a niggling voice said in her head, Why didn’t Malcolm come and save his sister’s honor? But she had no time to think about an answer before she was directly behind Clancy and tapping her shoulder.
Clancy spun around and smiled. In her eyes Amanda saw a simultaneous flash of relief and pleasure and she took the hand that reached for hers and squeezed it gently.
“Your brother says we have to go and dance because we’ll be leaving soon and it’ll be bad luck if you don’t dance with the foreigner.” Where in hell did that come from? she asked herself as Clancy’s startled eyes silently asked the same question.
“Oh, absolutely,” Clancy said solemnly. She turned back to the short, tubby couple whose eyes were devouring the newcomer, up and down and back again. “Alan—Joy—this is Malcolm’s best friend from New York, Amanda McIntyre.” She smiled at Amanda, still gripping her hand. “Amanda, Joy and Alan Jones are two of the more interesting people who’ve decided to live in Two Moon Bay. Alan is in real estate and Joy is a chakra analyst.”
Alan and Joy eagerly stepped forward to grasp Amanda’s free hand, their round faces gleaming with anticipation. They reminded Amanda of Tweedledum and Tweedledee until her hand was enveloped in two soft, sweaty palms. She took an involuntary step backward but could not reclaim her hand.
“Good to meet you,” she said, without conviction. Joy peered up into Amanda’s face, her pale blue eyes serious. “Wonderful to meet you,” she said in a breathless voice. “We’ve heard so much about you. I would love to balance your chakras.”
Alan gave his wife the tiniest nudge so that he could claim Amanda’s direct attention. “You really must let her attend you,” he said in tones similar but a fraction deeper than those of his wife. “She has remarkable intuition and healing hands.” He snuffled modestly and continued, “Actually, we both do.”
Clancy’s grip on her left hand enabled Amanda to nod soberly instead of bursting into the giggles that threatened to destroy her interested expression.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said gravely. “I sure could do with some deep treatment because I picked up a really persistent urinary tract infection from my last total immersion chakra blessing ceremony and, I tell you, it’s hellacious itchy and sore.”
As if choreographed, Joy and Alan dropped her hand and took steps back. They looked at each other then back at Amanda. Joy attempted to speak but the words came out as a strangled squawk. Amanda continued to smile at the pair then turned to Clancy. “Shall we go dance?”
Clancy’s face was scarlet and there were tears in her eyes as she struggled to suppress the laughter and disbelief desperately trying to explode out of her tightly closed mouth. She nodded at Amanda and waved weakly at the horrified faces of Joy and Alan Jones. Amanda avoided looking at her and led her away into the crowd of dancers as the unmistakable opening chords of “Take My Breath Away” boomed out across the hall. As one the two women turned to the stage and saw Malcolm, grinning happily as he stood beside the DJ. He raised his thumbs to his sister and best friend then jumped down and vanished into the crowd.
“What’s the male equivalent of a minx?” Amanda said into Clancy’s ear, “because that’s what your brother is.”
“He is, but I forgive him. I’m afraid this is our tune and anyway, I want to know all about your urinary tract infection.” She slipped her arms around Amanda’s waist and drew her close. “Tell.”
For a moment Amanda had difficulty breathing as she settled once again into the shapes and sensations of Clancy’s body. She inhaled the citrus and flowers perfume of hair and skin and closed her eyes at the simple pleasure of it. The familiar sensual music wrapped about her and she allowed the dark, slow rhythm to enter her and melt her into Clancy’s movement. Amanda felt the muscles of the strong shoulders twitch as her fingers stole along the length of them to rest beneath the rippling hair and around Clancy’s neck.
“This is nice,” she muttered in her partner’s pearl-decorated ear.
“Nice?”
“Nice is a much maligned word.”
“Okay. If you say so.” Clancy’s arms tightened slightly and her forehead came to rest against Amanda’s. “But I do want to know about your previous chakra experience and the…”
“Okay okay—the UTI. Jeez, I can’t believe we’re dancing to this song. Again. And you want to talk about jock itch.”
Much to the surprise of the crowd, Clancy threw back her head and roared with laughter. Her throat gleamed long and golden in the dim light and Amanda failed to resist the impulse to lay her lips in the hollow at its base. She discovered the skin was salty to her tongue and she also felt Clancy’s heartbeat quicken and her hands press on Amanda’s back so that the minimal space between their bodies became nothing. She was enveloped in curls as Clancy dropped her lips to Amanda’s ear and she began to speak, but was interrupted by Malcolm’s merry voice from close by.
“Woo hoo! Get a room you two!”
The two women pulled away from each other—slightly—and were gently bumped by Malcolm and Jonny Sparrow as they waltzed around them. Amanda came back to earth and saw that they were attracting the attention of other curious dancers. She pulled back further from Clancy’s arms even though there were couples of all sizes and gender mixes shuffling around the floor. Clancy did not let her go, however, but turned to her brother and put out a hand to embrace him and his dance partner.
“You have to hear this,” she said, as the two men formed a huddle with them. “Amanda has a sexually transmitted disease that she’s kept from us and she was just telling Alan and Joy Jones about it.”
Amanda’s protests were drowned by the whoops and snorts of laughter from Malcolm and Jonny. Finally she was able to get them to stop chortling and listen.
“I do not have an STD.” She stopped again as Malcolm threatened to choke on his gurgling laughter. “In fact, I do not have any kind of disease,” she went on. “But Clancy, your brother told me to come and rescue you from the Joneses and warned me that they’d probably kidnap me for the white slave trade, so that’s what I came up with.”
“What? That you have syphilis?” Her three companions dissolved into more laughter and Amanda waited patiently even as a small thought crossed her mind that she would rather be dancing with Clancy to the old but sexy song than amusing them all.
“Malcolm, you remember when Marise Mack went to India?” Malcolm hooted and slapped his thigh. “Marise was a colleague at eFrères, where I worked in New York,” Amanda explained to Clancy and Jonny. “She went to India to find herself and somewhere along the line she did this ceremony with a bunch of other women. It involved blessings and being immersed in water up to their necks and having their chakras looked at. Anyway, whatever happened to her chakras, there was something terrible in the water and she came home with the most god-awful infection and couldn’t get rid of it for months. I just borrowed the story.”
“Brilliant.” Malcolm hugged her. “It’ll be all around the alternative mob by tomorrow afternoon and you’ll never get a massage or a Tarot reading in this town. But it does mean you won’t be bothered by the Joneses’ offers of threesomes. Fantastic.”
“I think she’s got me off the hook too,” said Clancy and she too hugg
ed Amanda. “Unfortunately we’ve been yakking so long, we’ve missed our song. Let’s go get a drink.”
Chapter Twelve
“Where have you been this early on a Monday morning?” Malcolm’s hair resembled Kramer’s even more than usual. He obviously hadn’t looked in a mirror since getting out of bed. His chin glittered with blond stubble and his eyes were sleepy but quickly became alert as he looked Amanda over.
She grinned at him and made her way to the kitchen sink to wash her hands and sluice her hot face with cold water. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She stuck her tongue out at him and leaned against the counter, water dripping down her T-shirt. “If you’d been up earlier you wouldn’t have to ask.”
Across the table, from behind the morning newspaper, Clancy snorted. “And if you’d been home on Sunday instead of disappearing with Jonny Sparrow after the party you would also know, brother dear.”
Malcolm spluttered and a flush rose from his chin to his eyebrows as he looked from Amanda to Clancy and saw no mercy in either face. He took a long slurp from a steaming mug of coffee and finally a huge smile cracked his face.
“Okay, so now you’re ganging up on me and it’s not fair.”
“Well, neither is a black cat’s butt, Mr. Smartypants. So how was it?” Amanda poured herself a mug of coffee and sat next to him, reaching for the toast rack and butter dish. Clancy folded the newspaper, set it down and leaned forward, elbows on the table, propping her chin on her fists.
“Yes, spill it, bro, is he as hot as he looks?”
“Clancy!” He looked at the two women and saw the determined set of their smirks and sighed. “Okay, okay, Jonny Sparrow is hot. Very hot and,” he held his hand over his face to block out the eyes that bored into him. “And I think I’m in love.”
In unison Clancy and Amanda let out piercing shrieks and from under the table Jessie leapt to her feet yelping and howling as she ran around the kitchen, tail waving joyously as she looked for the source of excitement. Then she skittered into the table leg and coffee splashed from mugs and the toast rack spat its bread slices all over the table.
“Jee-zus,” bellowed Malcolm, exasperated. “Now look what you’ve done, you two. Jess! Shut up! Enough!” The Labrador leapt up and licked his cheek and Malcolm batted her away, “Jess—no! Enough! Stop!” She leapt again and slurped Malcolm’s ear.
Clancy clapped her hands twice and said sharply, “Jess! On your bed, now!” The dog instantly stopped leaping about and retired to the trundle bed at the far end of the room, grumbling and whining but grinning at Clancy, pink tongue lolling and button-black eyes shining. Although her outstretched arm and finger pointed implacably toward the bed, Clancy smiled back at the dog, the warmth in her eyes making Amanda shiver and smile.
Malcolm sighed gustily and chomped on a corner of toast. “Alpha bitch,” he remarked companionably and turned his attention back to Amanda. “So, okay, where’ve you been?”
“Cheese making.” Amanda spoke to Malcolm but her eyes were on Clancy who had gone back to the newspaper.
“Cheese making! Are you serious? You?” Malcolm goggled at Amanda, but before she could think of a retort the newspaper rustled.
“Probably more useful than knowing all there is to know about derivatives or the subprime mortgage collapse,” Clancy interjected from behind the broadsheet. She lowered the paper once again and her twinkling eyes belied the sarcasm of the remark.
Amanda stuck her chin out and glared at Malcolm. “I was talking to Renee at the party and she offered to show me the ropes in the dairy and we got on to cheese making. She’s going to teach me.”
“You’re pulling my leg! You?”
“Yes, me,” Amanda snapped at him. Irritation was beginning to scratch away at her hitherto happy morning and she glowered at him. “I can do a bit more than drive a calculator, you know. I think we might have something that we could develop for the town.”
Malcolm snorted and looked at Clancy for backup, but Clancy was watching Amanda’s animated face and instead came to her rescue.
“She’s an expert with poultry too, Mal. Bet you didn’t know that. She’s a real chicken whisperer. And by the way, will you wipe down the table, the coffee spill won’t disappear without your assistance.”
Malcolm gaped at his sister and then at Amanda. “Now you’re pulling both legs!”
Amanda banged her coffee mug down on the table and glared at him. “Will you quit saying that? I had a life before Wall Street you know. And I aim to have a life after Wall Street.” She got up and went to the sink, rinsed out a blue cloth and cleaned off the table before throwing the cloth at Malcolm. He caught it and lobbed it over her head back into the sink and looked nonplussed for a moment.
“After Wall Street? Nah, you’ll be back playing queen of the heap by this time next year.” His tone was reassuring but Amanda found it grated on her already irritated ears.
“You’re wrong,” she said sharply, returning to her chair. “Whatever’s happening isn’t going to be over any time soon. You should have read Clancy’s book.” She carefully avoided looking at the author whose sharp intake of breath was followed by her carefully folding the paper and laying it on the table.
“She’s right,” Clancy said to her brother. “Not necessarily about reading the book.” She caught Amanda’s eye and grinned. “Although I’m flattered. I’d like to know what you think when we have some time.”
Amanda tried to stop the flush rising up her throat, but it reached her cheeks and the heat was only increased by the maddening twinkle in Clancy’s eyes. “There’s not much I could tell you,” she muttered. “I just wish more people on the Street had read it before they made all this mess.”
Clancy’s eyebrows rose and she shook her head. “They wouldn’t have listened. That’s the point in a way. Nobody ever does.” She closed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head and Amanda’s eyes were drawn immediately to the bare midriff revealed by the lifting T-shirt; the abdominals were clearly defined and tanned to a peachy gold. Amanda knew how taut they would be beneath her fingers and she shivered. Clancy opened her eyes and stared straight at Amanda. “It would be good to talk about it though,” she said, smiling. “Maybe we can figure out what’s going to happen next.”
Amanda could see no teasing or scorn in the gray eyes, but did wonder at the possibility of a double meaning and she nodded. “I’d like that,” she said softly, and then quickly added, “Personally I think there are going to be a lot of people doing what I’m doing.”
Clancy’s eyebrows rose. “Getting the hell out of Wall Street and learning how to make cheese?”
Amanda laughed. “I hope not everyone has that idea, but yes—I think a lot of people are going to be looking for something new and different and better.” She stared into Clancy’s eyes and Clancy held her gaze as the words hung between them. Malcolm looked back and forth from his sister to his friend; finally he pushed back from the table and stood up.
“I think I’ll go make a few phone calls and I’ll check back later to make sure the kitchen hasn’t spontaneously combusted,” he remarked archly, and was gone before either woman could respond. But the twanging, crackling connection between them was broken and Amanda felt both relief and regret. She wanted to keep talking and said the first thing that popped into her head.
“Let’s talk,” Amanda said, instinctively reaching across the table. Clancy drew back but stopped short of what her face hinted were going to be hostile words. She looked at Amanda for a long considering moment then shook her head.
Amanda resolved to persist. “Have you talked to the bank manager?”
Clancy’s laugh was not humorous. “The same little prick who was so keen to lend is now telling us credit is tight and without regular income, of course, a lot of people don’t qualify anymore. The fact that we make prize-winning cheeses here and heaven knows what else and just need some extra capital to get it out there doesn’t count.”
Amanda was silent. Moder
n retail banking practice was not something she could make an argument for. “So, between you and the Martins—with the two farms, the herd and the reputation of Darren’s cheeses, you still can’t raise money?” Clancy shook her head and picked at a chip in the rim of her mug.
“It sucks,” Amanda said eventually. “But there must be something we can do. Two Moon Bay is a beautiful place. People love coming here: they adore it. They should be spending money here. We need to get that message out to people who don’t adore it yet.”
Clancy pushed her fingers through her hair. “How? A multi-million dollar TV campaign?”
Amanda held up her hands in a gesture of submission. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you’ve thought of all this. I really don’t mean to tell you how to suck eggs, I’m just thinking aloud, I guess.”
Clancy shrugged and sighed. “Go right ahead. I’ll listen to anything just so long as it doesn’t cost money because we don’t have that.” She stood up and stretched. “Which reminds me, I’m going in to town, to the fish co-op and a couple of errands, want to come?”
Amanda nodded, got to her feet and began gathering the breakfast debris onto a tray.
* * *
Amanda and Clancy walked along Two Moon Bay’s main street toward the jetty and the fish co-op in something approaching a companionable silence, glancing at each other from time to time and smiling self-consciously when those glances collided. There was yet another a shift in the air between them and it made Amanda feel nervous and childishly excited. They reached the rambling tin shed where a faded painted sign across the eaves announced the Two Moon Bay Fishing Cooperative, and another roughly scrawled paper sign stuck to the glass pane of the door told them it would not be open for business for another half hour. They made their way between stacks of plastic seafood crates and broken lobster pots to the seawall and sat in the shade of an old and massively drooping pepper tree. The silence between them was good-natured and Amanda enjoyed the sounds of the morning and watching a mob of pelicans sunning themselves at the edge of the water. Finally Clancy spoke.
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