“Yes, talking to a publisher.”
“Look, I don’t know why I’m being so circumspect about my traveling arrangements. I’m going to Fairfield … that’s in Ohio. I’m attending an exhibit opening, but after that I’m heading back here. We could have dinner and continue this conversation.”
“It sounds like a plan, Mademoiselle,” he said placing the old black fedora on his head and tipping his fingers toward her in a kind of salute. He waited for her to pass. She wedged herself past him, keeping the wide grin of enthusiasm apparent on her face.
“Speak to you soon and thank you for helping me earlier. Sorry I was such a mess.”
His eyes burst with a kind of inner passion. She had totally misjudged him for she had seldom seen so much conveyed in only a look. There was so much going on inside Stroker. It was there waiting to be discovered. In the midst of the passengers noisily departing, there fell a kind of hushed solitude sometimes found in churches.
“I want you to know that I will always be at your disposal.”
There was a genuineness in his expression that conveyed to Miranda that it was a promise. She gave him one last smile and dashed on her way. Planes did not wait for people – not even wealthy heiresses. Besides, Jake would be waiting. Above all, Miranda did not want to disappoint her very temperamental little sexual toy.
CHAPTER 20
“Mmmmm, Mmmmiranda,” Jake hummed in her ear.
It felt delicious being held in his arms – especially after two days and nights of ecstatic, unbridled sexual passion. If sex were an Olympic sport, Jake would win multiple gold medals for the orgasms that he never failed to induce. For all her reserve, Miranda loved sex and was unabashedly fervent in the participation and initiation of these kinds of liaisons. That’s what Jake was – a delightful dalliance with a capital “D.” She laughed when she realized that “D” stood for other parts of the human male anatomy. He had that very much going on as well.
“Whatever doctor out there that says there is no such thing as the G spot should consult with you. You never fail to hit that elevator button each and every time.”
Miranda rested her chin against Jake’s chest. She gazed into his hazel eyes that now were a hazy shade of green. His thick lashes were the same color as his hair – an ashy light brown with a hint of gold. His body was well-developed muscular and slim. It was almost devoid of hair and his skin was creamy smooth. His legs were long and looked like they belonged on a soccer player although he hadn’t played since college. Add to that the year-round tan he cultivated at the local tanning salon and you had a pretty good picture of the sexual gladiator.
“Glad to hear that, sweets. Now,” he said breaking away and giving her a playful slap on her luscious buttocks, “Get dressed or we’ll be late.”
She reluctantly pulled herself away. She needed to shower and repair the damage hours of lovemaking had done to her appearance. She tottered into the bathroom, turning the faucet and spinning it. She waited for the hotel bathroom to fill with steam. She wanted to make sure the water was nice and hot before she stepped in. Jake tried pushing her to the side – wanting his share of the mirror. She appraised his nicely toned body – the sting of his hand still ringing out on her bare buttock. She snuck behind him and looped her arms around his six-pack. She wasn’t willing to relinquish her hold on her adult toy. She lazily wondered if there were time to squeeze in one last encounter before they went to the opening.
She released her hold – grasping his hand and pulling him towards the open frosted glass.
“No, no, baby, we don’t have time.”
While Jake’s body language and face feigned refusal, Miranda knew him better than that. He was a horn dog – and wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
Miranda let go of his hand and grabbed a hold of his penis. She gave it a playful tug. He hardened in her hand. The lust in Jake’s face broke through.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a very naughty girl.”
“All the time,” she murmured between kisses under the jet stream of hot water.
They made love for the tenth or hundredth time – Miranda had lost count. While the lovemaking session started with Miranda standing up, she had changed positions several times – once to allow entrance from behind. Miranda had used her hands to push against the wall of the shower to keep her balance and not end up on the bottom of the stall. Her hair had gotten soaked, but it was well worth it.
After one last sensual kiss, Jake toweled off and left. He’d gone home to change into his tux leaving Miranda to get ready all on her own. That now included repairing the flood damage done to her hair. While she was lucky to have manageable hair, it still needed blow-drying and styling. Especially for a black-tie event. She cursed the fact that men seemed to have so little negative fallout when drowned by tons of steaming hot water.
She held the flat iron in her hand, pulling small locks of hair through it. She wanted a straight hair look for this evening. The straighter hair was more complementary to the style of dress – plus Jake preferred it that way. She kept working until her curl was a distant memory. She was running late, but decided to slide in a quick call to her brother. Although Jake had insisted on her being punctual, she was entirely comfortable with the idea of arriving fashionably late to these types of affairs. In business dealings, it was different – she never left a client waiting. But this? Jake could wait.
She tried to speak to her brother for a few minutes every day. It was partly family responsibility, but had more to do with the fact that she loved her older brother. Chase knew her better than anyone else on earth. She wished she could say the same about him, but couldn’t. If she were being honest, she would have to admit that she didn’t have a clue as to what made him tick. He was a mystery and she had the strong feeling he would always remain one.
Chase seemed to have a built-in sense of sadness. It was a melancholy that broke Miranda’s heart. While she consciously helped by attempting to cheer him up, it never worked. It might be because she didn’t know what was making him so sad. She’d tried more than once to get him to open up, but he never did. To anyone as far as she knew. He had a penchant for keeping things bottled up inside. It meant she was forced to rely on guessing as to what the reason could be. Try as she might, she just couldn’t understand, but then understand was crux of the problem. She didn’t understand her brother. Didn’t understand his moods, didn’t understand his insecurity, and most of all didn’t understand his preoccupation with the fairer sex.
His numerous flings certainly didn’t follow the prototype set by their parents. Their marriage had been loving and monogamous. While their father had been a bit of a rogue when younger, once married, he quickly settled down to life with only one woman. Miranda shared Chase’s interest in the opposite sex and did enjoy having an occasional fling, but his actions bordered on an obsession. The stream of women in his life seemed endless. Their father would always joke that Chase must have a revolving door in his apartment because they came as fast as they left. None had ever worked out, including the hasty marriages, but even with the constant heartbreak, Chase persisted. Why? She had no idea. Perhaps it boiled down to him picking the wrong partners.
The phone rang as she waited for him to pick up. She tried to apply lip gloss – trying hard to hold the phone between her ear and shoulder without disconnecting it. She slathered it on her lips and rubbed them together to disperse the glistening liquid evenly. She reconsidered making the call as it was yet another example of what was confusing about her relationship with her brother. Why it fell on her to initiate communication, she didn’t know. She suspected if she didn’t, there would be only be the brief glimpse of him on Christmas Day. And yet every time she called, he seemed relieved that she did.
Chase was in a good humor. He seemed more animated since moving back to his Chicago digs. Of course, they both had stayed in England to help their mother deal with the death of their father. He’d recently resettled into his bachelor pad
and seemed relieved to be back on his own. Miranda had visited his high-rise condominium a few times since he’d purchased it. While she admired the cold stainless steel, granite, and hardwood floor décor, it wasn’t her. She liked a little chintz and cushioning in her surroundings, but then the condominium was styled to suit him – not her.
After the greetings, he immediately launched into teasing her about Jake. He joked that Jake must be the reason she hadn’t called sooner. He asked if Jake were taking a breather. She reminded him that she’d called when she landed in New York, but he brushed that aside. He loved to tweak his baby sister – especially about the men in her life. She knew it was because there was little else he could have joked about. Miranda lived an orderly, fairly boring life. Men were her only walk on the wild side.
She got him back when she asked about his love life and if he were contemplating a third wedding. He laughed and assured her that he was doing all he could to catch up on the city’s nightlife. It was yet another topic where she saw the perfect opportunity to get him back.
“You call what they have in Chicago nightlife?”
“And what would you call it?”
“Nightdrearium or nightsnoozest. Now in New York, the city where I choose to live, there’s nightlife! They don’t close up at midnight, as you would find out if you were wise enough to move there. Lots of single women in New York, Chasie.”
Chase laughed in his amiable way. His mellow personality was one reason that there was a constant crush of women around him. That and his six foot frame topped with dark brown wavy hair – with dimples to boot.
“I do just fine in Chicago, thank you. And how good can New York be if you have to fly to Fairfield for your Prince Charming?”
“Oh, Chase! You really do love to drag Jake into this, don’t you?”
“Every chance I get.”
They laughed a bit, Miranda feeling the tension from the past days leaving her. Her nights had not been good. She’d thought that with Jake by her side that dreams of her father would be kept at bay, but they weren’t. While not as intense as the one she’d had on the plane, they were remarkably unpleasant.
She switched her thoughts to Chase and where he chose to live. It pointed up yet another difference between them. Miranda much preferred half a dozen cities to her brother’s favorite haunt, but he was old enough to decide for himself where he wanted to live. In his case, age didn’t equate with making responsible, adult decisions. Chase was like a kid in a candy store when it came to life. It was part of his charm and partly why he frequently encountered disasters. His marriages, his failed businesses, and his waning interests in little-used hobbies that were once absolute passions. There seemed to be something broken inside, but until Chase admitted it was there and sought help, it would remain the central factor in how he lived his life.
Their conversation was short and pleasant. Since she caught him in such high spirits, she suspected he’d met someone. What was she thinking? Chase was always meeting someone. How long this someone lasted was the problem.
“Yes, yes, I promise to let you know when I leave Fairfield. I’m not quite sure when yet. It depends on … a few things,” Miranda joked.
“Like Jake’s stamina?” Chase countered.
“Oh, you! I should have been able to guess that one was coming! Why don’t you fly to New York for a few days? You could stay with me and I could show you what a real city is all about.”
“Sounds like an interesting proposition.”
“It is. And think of all the cash you’ll save by not putting it on top of your one-night stand’s dresser.”
“Now, Miranda! Giving a girl cab fare is only fair.”
“Cab fare? Is that what they call it these days? Chase, really, please think it over. Seriously.”
“Serious is it?”
“Chase!”
“Only teasing, Randi girl. I will definitely give it very serious consideration. Now I’ll let you go back to boffing, Jake-o,” he said hanging up before she had a chance to retaliate. She smiled as she tucked the phone into her evening purse. She’d get him back for that one.
The phone call concluded, she resumed the serious business of grooming. She applied a bit more make-up than usual, but not so much as to appear garish or overdone. Her undergarments in place, she slid on her evening’s selection. She stood in front of the hotel’s full-length mirror giving herself a final onceover. The green silk chiffon was divine. It had been a perfect choice. As for the rest of her appearance, she scrutinized herself more than was necessary. Miranda found it difficult to be objective about herself. She knew she looked okay, but more than that? She couldn’t say. Although Miranda was constantly told she was attractive, she had a deep-seated insecurity regarding her looks. It came from having a wickedly beautiful woman for a mother. Her mother had been an acclaimed beauty. During the span of her career, she’d appeared on more magazine covers than any of her modeling rivals. In fact, she’d set a record for it that stood for years. Miranda was well aware of her mother’s celebrated past and, while her family did everything to bolster and instill fearless self-confidence in her, Miranda knew she couldn’t compare. She’d been told that often enough for it to sink in. She supposed it wasn’t surprising that a mother and daughter would be constantly judged and compared. In fact, it most likely should be expected, but it hurt so much when she came up with the short end of the stick. She was getting better at accepting her limitations and being grateful for what she was – instead of angry about what she was not. And so with each year, she had gained confidence, but not enough to look into the mirror and say to herself that she looked sensational.
She rode in the back of the limo Jake had rented for her, getting a look at Fairfield. She’d barely been out of the hotel room. Jake had made sure of that. What with room service and the small restaurant downstairs, their needs had been met. It seemed a nice enough place, but would never replace New York City in Miranda’s heart. She loved that sprawling metropolitan oasis. She didn’t understand why her brother was so resistant to moving there and giving it a try.
New York was somewhere Miranda could visualize Chase succeeding. It struck all the right notes as the place that could keep up with him. He had eschewed it, but perhaps a few nights there could persuade him to move. Miranda had a small condo on the Upper East Side. It was modest, quite comfortable, and ever so convenient. It was nothing grand like her family’s estate, but she called it home. She would be so delighted to show her brother around. It would be fun living in New York with her brother as a pal and going out partner. Tiffany already was there and she knew Tiffany and Chase got along famously. It would be so much fun to see them both together – laughing and carrying on. Tiffany also had that huge circle of friends that included just about every eligible, attractive female on the East Coast. It would take Chase quite a while before he made a dent in that flock of fillies.
Miranda entered the soiree holding her head up high and attracting more than a little attention from the discerning crowd. She scanned the room noting that there was not a lot of competition in attendance. She was the youngest, best dressed, and the only one with more than a marginal smattering of sex appeal. Miranda knew the spotlight would be on her. It may not be the red carpet, but she’d take it. She liked being given the opportunity to shine.
She spotted Jake and headed over to him grabbing a glass of champagne on the way. He was standing with a group of elderly, finely-tuned attendees. She didn’t know if they were wealthy patrons of the museum or just curious folk plucked from Fairfield’s midsts via a coveted invitation.
“Ah, here she is now. I’d like to introduce you to Miranda Perry who kindly agreed to let Fairfield Museum display this most sumptuous of collections and …”
Miranda sipped her champagne letting Jake prattle on about her and her father’s artifacts. She hated when he got into his official capacity mode and mostly tuned him out when he did so.
Miranda sipped her champagne – the drone of Ja
ke a distant hum. Her eyes flitted about the room – taking in the spectacle of the crowd when a paparazzi-worthy white flash of a handsome smile caught her attention. It was from a man dressed in a frock that could have been fashioned in another century. He was skirting the periphery of the crowd. Miranda wasn’t sure who the smile had been directed at, but it was a sure hook that went deep into the soft palate of her mouth. With his good looks, he could have easily lent himself out as an exhibit to any museum in the world. He was more perfectly crafted than any item currently on display.
The blonde stranger disappeared from view. Miranda’s mind wandered back, taking in some of Jake’s endless conversation with people whose names had long escaped her recollection. She left it to Jake to play the social game – he was so much better at it than she was. More people gathered around Miranda and Jake – as did more introductions and the formality of the limp fish shaking of hands. Jake passed her around letting everyone get a piece of her. She felt like a baseball being shagged around the infield. Jake was seemingly ignorant of her mental shutdown. He insistently dragged her by her arm, introducing her to more fawning patrons. She smiled courteously, but the faces blended together to make a dull shade of brown. Her mind was a mass of contradictions and it was anywhere but in Fairfield.
Adduné (The Vampire's Game) Page 26