More Lipstick Chronicles

by Emily Carmichael

  “Hmm.” He picked up her chart, which was lying on the floor next to the bench. “You could probably add ten easy on the bench press.” He leaned over and squeezed her biceps playfully. “Maybe twenty.”

  She was flustered by his solid grip. “Oh, okay.”

  “I’ll spot you.” Hands on her shoulders, he pressed her down to the bench, took two ten-pound weights and added one to each end of the bar then picked up the barbell. “Here. Go slow . . . that’s it.” He smiled affectionately as he watched her. “Just five reps.”

  He knew what he was doing. When Spade returned, the trainer laughingly offered Parker a job.

  Spade glanced at the clock. “Okay, twenty-five on the treadmill, Elyssa.”

  Parker scowled as the trainer left.

  “You don’t do cardio?” she asked, wiping her face with a towel.

  “Treadmills bore me.” He glanced to the back of the gym. “I think I’ll see if anybody’s looking for a racquetball partner.”

  “Racquetball?”

  “Yeah, you play?”

  Elyssa thought of Joe, and how he’d asked her to play that night more than a year ago, thinking she knew nothing about the game. It was the first time he’d kissed her and she hadn’t been able to walk onto a court without remembering the sensuality of the moment. She shivered.

  Strong fingers closed over her arm. “Elyssa, are you all right?”

  She nodded and made a split-second decision, ignoring the ridiculous voice inside her head that was trying to suggest she would be sharing something of Joe’s with Parker. “Yeah, I play racquetball. But don’t be surprised if I beat the pants off you.”

  He laughed aloud. “Well, now there’s an image to distract me. Come on, lady, let’s see what you can do.” Because he held out his hand, she had no choice but to let him help her up.

  Shushing the negative thoughts, she followed him to the courts.

  Joe guided her around the dance floor, his hand splayed possessively on her naked back. Her dress was, in a word, stunning; made of a midnight blue silk jersey, it rose chastely to her neck in front, plunged breathtakingly low in back, and featured a slit that rose to kingdom come up the front of the skirt. His sisters had fawned over the dress and his father had said she was lovely. Joe himself had wanted to wrap her up in his suit coat to shield her from the preying eyes of other men; but he’d only smiled and told her she looked gorgeous.

  As he inhaled her perfume, felt her hair tickle his cheek, he admitted to himself he’d been doing a lot of that lately—smiling to hide his increasingly possessive feelings. Instead of telling her how he really felt, though, he’d found himself pushing an intimacy between them in other, more enjoyable ways, believing somehow that would bring them so close there’d be nowhere else to go. He knew there was a deviousness to his thinking, and this pricked his conscience, but she loved him, damn it, and as he’d warned her when she admitted her feelings, he was never going to let her go.

  Since she seemed willing to go along with whatever he instigated lately, he figured the least he could do was curb his jealousy. He had no idea what was going on with Quest. It drove him nuts not knowing how much she saw him, what she did with the guy, but he never asked. And she never volunteered any information. To give her credit, she refrained from queries about Beth, too, which was just as well, because his ex was putting the moves on him in an obvious way. And he had to do something about that.

  “What’s the scowl for, big guy?” Her hand flitted up to his nape; her eyes drank him in approvingly, making his heart swell.

  “I was thinking about my parents getting old.” He lied, again, to shield her from his thoughts. “Forty years of marriage—I can’t believe it.”

  They both glanced over to the happy couple, surrounded tonight by friends and family. His father was strikingly handsome in his dark suit and distinguished gray hair. His mother was tall, slender and lovely in a floor-length white crepe dress that left her shoulders bare.

  “They both look so content,” Elyssa said.

  “That’s what a good marriage will do for you.” He felt her stiffen in his arms, but said anyway, “They love you, Lyss. So do my sisters.”

  He felt her tense even further, and though it angered him, he quelled his pique.

  “Joe, you’re frowning again.”

  “You mistake my look.” He leaned down, breathed into her ear. “I can’t wait to get you into bed.”

  “Why? You can’t possibly find anything to do to me there that you haven’t already done these last few weeks.”

  He stilled. “You said you liked all that.”

  “I do. But you have to admit it’s gotten a bit . . . unorthodox.”

  “Is there something about it that doesn’t sit well?”

  “Joe, let’s not get into that tonight.”

  She’d been honest about the sexual play up to a point. He suspected it was the intimacy that scared her, an intimacy that he craved and intentionally seduced her into. Pulling her close, he shook his head at his own sly machinations. Never in his life had he behaved this way. So why was he doing it now?

  He glanced over at his mother and father and the answer hit him with the force of a hammer blow. He wanted what they had. With the woman in his arms. Oh, God, what would she do if he mentioned the M word?

  “I’d like to propose a toast to my lovely daughter.” Mary Jenkins’s father, a welder from Brooklyn, stood and lifted his glass. The older man sported a slight paunch under his brand-new suit, but he beamed a million-dollar smile at the happy couple.

  Mary’s family had wanted to pay for their daughter’s engagement party, but Elliot had gently insisted he should foot the bill since the Jenkinses were paying for the wedding. He’d told Elyssa that he and Mary had quietly agreed for financial reasons on a very, very small reception.

  Of course, Mary and Elliot agreed on everything. They couldn’t be happier about being so deeply in each other’s thrall. Why, she wondered as she sipped her champagne in a small party room at New York’s Tavern on the Green, were she and Elliot so different? Had he gotten all the commitment genes? Why was he able to fall in love so easily, and she was . . . unsettled by her feelings for Joe?

  Frankly, she was beginning to feel terrified he was going to ask her to marry him.

  “Having a good time, love?” He looked so damn good in a light charcoal pinstriped suit that turned his eyes slate. His hair had been recently cut and was combed off his face.

  “Wonderful. You?”

  He kissed her nose. “I always have a good time with you, Lyss.”

  This wasn’t exactly true. Talk of a buyout at Allheart had progressed of late and Red Door, their main competitor, had made inquiries about their company. None of it had sat well with Joe. Elyssa had no idea why, since in recent months their success was phenomenal and they all stood to make plenty of money if they sold. But Joe didn’t seem to be interested in a takeover. And though there were no more fights about Parker or Bethany—they never broached either subject—she knew Joe worried about her relationship with Quest.

  She’d overheard him with one of his sisters the night of his parents’ anniversary party.

  “What’s with you, buddy?” Susan had asked when she found Joe alone on the patio.

  Elyssa had been to the ladies’ room and returned unseen. She stood in the shadows and listened.

  “Nothing.” He slid his arm around his sister and tugged her close. “Just melancholy about Mom and Dad.”

  “Elyssa looks like she’s having a good time.”

  “She seems to be.”

  “And you’re unhappy?”

  “No, no, I’m not.”

  Susan drew back and gave him a disbelieving, sideways glance. “Tell me. Is she trying to corner you?”

  Joe laughed, but it was sad and self-effacing.

  “Well, that’s the story of your life, big brother,” Susan added. “They get too close, you bolt.”

  “It’s just the opposite this time, S
uz.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, how the mighty have fallen. No, I want more, much more, from Elyssa than she is willing to give. I’m not sure she’ll ever be able to give it.”

  “Well, she must not be as smart as I thought if she lets you get away . . .”

  “Honey, Elliot asked you a question.” Joe’s voice penetrated her recollection.

  Elliot stood over their table with Mary; they were holding hands, smiling broadly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say, Elliot?”

  “Where were you?”

  “Nowhere.” She pasted on a phony smile. “You guys look happy.”

  Elliot moved away from Mary and touched Elyssa’s shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, Lyss.” He left Mary chatting brightly with Joe.

  In minutes Elyssa and Elliot were at the bar, sipping more champagne.

  “Honey, Joe’s not blind. He’s got to be aware of the tension coming off you from all directions.”

  “I’m not ready for marriage—or anything remotely like it.” She frowned into her very good bubbly. “Why is that so wrong?”

  Sipping his wine, he watched her solemnly. “Do you think he is ready for it?”

  “I don’t know. I just feel him pressing closer and closer, and I find myself worrying all the time now that he’s going to bring up marriage. Oh, Elliot, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment.”

  He stared hard at her. “You should talk this out with Joe.”

  “No, I don’t want to bring up marriage. That would be letting the genie out of the bottle for sure.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t lose him.”

  “I won’t.” She frowned. “Damn it, though, why can’t he just be satisfied with the small steps we’re taking?”

  “Joe’s a leaps and bounds kind of guy, honey.” Elliot hesitated, then asked, “And what’s up with Parker Quest?”

  “Not much.”

  “I can’t help but think you’re playing with fire, Lyss.” He scowled. “Unless you’re attracted to Quest. Is that what this is all about? And it’s making you unsure of how much you care about Joe?”

  “Well, Parker is attractive, but no, I’m sure about my feelings for Joe. I love him.” She frowned. “That should be enough for now.”

  “If Joe wants more, Quest is a threat.”

  Irrational defensiveness surfaced in her. “I don’t think there’s any harm in spending time with Parker.”

  Elliot shook his head. “It gives Quest the wrong message and will start World War Three if Joe finds out.” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe that’s why you’re doing it.”

  “To start World War Three?”

  “That would be one way to keep some distance from Joe. To loosen those chains you think he’s tying you up with.”

  She couldn’t help thinking of that harem girl remark Joe had made. It made her shudder. “Oh, Elliot, no.”

  “Think about it. Why else would you spend any time at all with Quest?”

  “Elyssa, you’ve got to come with me.” Parker smiled at her from her office doorway on Thursday afternoon. Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt rolled up at the sleeves, his grin was infectious.

  She smiled back. “Where?”

  “This market opened up in Foggy Bottom. It’s different and I think we might get some good ideas.” He glanced outside. “Besides, it’s a gorgeous day and I like being outside.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do here.”

  “Well, how soon could you get away?”

  Pretending to check her calendar, she thought of Joe’s words on the phone last night . . .

  “I miss you, baby. We need to talk when I get back.” He’d stayed on in New York for business since the weekend.

  “About what?”

  “I’ve been thinking about us. I haven’t been completely honest about where my head’s at. Just save the weekend for me, okay? I’ll be home about six on Friday. Meet me at your place?”

  She had agreed to see him, but she still didn’t know what she’d do if he asked her to marry him.

  “Elyssa?” Parker snapped her out of her reverie.

  “I can get away at four. I’ve got clothes here to change into so we can go right from the office.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “Maybe I can cheer you up.”

  “I don’t need cheering up, Parker.”

  “Hmm. How about you have dinner with me? Monteigne’s out of town, isn’t he?”

  For some reason, his question irritated her. “Joe’s being in or out of town has nothing to do with anything,” she snapped.

  “Fine. See you at four.”

  Spring flowers tumbled out of porch boxes and big chunky pots at one of the stalls at the Foggy Bottom outdoor market. The weather was warm enough for just jeans and a shirt, and Elyssa and Parker wended through the new outdoor displays with the gentle April sun beating down on them.

  “I wish we could offer flower boxes for spring, like those violets,” she said as they paused at a stall teeming with clever flower and plant arrangements. “Doesn’t that wild-flower look beautiful?”

  “Yes. But why can’t we offer them?”

  “They’d be expensive. It’s not like they’d come wholesale.”

  He grasped her hand and tugged her over to the stall. Fifteen minutes later, he had the vendor’s card, a meeting set up for the following week and a bunch of violets in his hand, which he presented to her with a mock bow, like a courtly knight.

  “You’re a real charmer,” she said as she buried her nose in the pretty blossoms, inhaling their sweet scent. “That old woman didn’t have a chance.”

  “Ah, my curse. To be loved by older women.” He grinned at her and said flirtatiously, “And how old are you, Elyssa?”

  Ignoring the comment, she cocked her head. “Parker, how come there isn’t a woman in your life?”

  “Haven’t met the right combination lately. There was one once . . . I fell hard for her.”

  They strolled along, stopping at a booth that featured jewelry made of unusual semiprecious stones, their multi-facets glinting in the sun.

  “Hmm, an adventurine stone.” Parker picked it up and clasped it in his palm as if it had magical qualities. “For good luck.”

  “You know about this stuff?” She gestured toward the display.

  “It’s a hobby of mine,” he said with a shrug and a warm smile. He studied her for a minute, then picked up a pair of earrings. “Tigereyes. To match yours.” And before she could object, he bought them and a chunky necklace of the same stone, which he promptly slid over his head. “Take off your earrings.”

  “Really, Parker, you shouldn’t—”

  “It’s a done deal.” He held up the earrings. “I already bought them. And I stopped wearing one years ago, so they can’t be for me.”

  She laughed. “You have pierced ears?”

  “One. I also have a tattoo.” He winked. “Maybe I’ll show it to you some day.”

  After she withdrew her earrings, he inserted the tigereyes himself. Her stomach fluttered so she turned away.

  As they resumed walking, she asked, “So, it didn’t work out with the older woman? I presume the love of your life was one of these older women you’re cursed with?”

  He smiled sadly. “Yes, she was older and no, it didn’t work out.”

  “Why not?” She knew better than to keep probing but she couldn’t help it.

  “I’ll tell you that if you promise to answer something about you and Monteigne.”

  She knew she shouldn’t. But she liked Parker, and she was enjoying her conversation with him. As the breeze ruffled his tawny hair, and the sun sparkled in his eyes, she agreed.

  “Laura was married. I thought she was going to leave him. She didn’t. End of story.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He peered at her intently. “Your turn. My big question is how come you put up with that possessive crap Monteigne dishes out? Does the guy live in a different c
entury?”

  Parker and Elyssa laughed as they strode up the steps to her apartment building. The night air had turned chilly and they hurried along, but he had entertained her with funny blonde jokes all the way home.

  “So, you gonna make me a pie with some of these?” Parker asked, nodding to the bag of cherries he’d picked up at the market.

  Elyssa tossed Parker a withering look. “First of all, it’s eight o’clock at night. Second, I’m stuffed from that meal we had at New Heights and third, I don’t cook, young man.”

  “You don’t bake either?” he asked incredulously as they entered her apartment.

  “Nope.”

  “Hmm. Guess I’ll just have to do this myself.” Without further comment, he headed for her kitchen. She was surprised to see him make himself at home so easily. She sensed he felt some closeness to her, given all the time they’d spent together in the last few months.

  An hour later the house was filled with heavenly scents of baking cherries. Sneakers off, relaxed, she sipped her wine and sat at the kitchen table and sniffed the violets she’d put in a vase. She cast surreptitious gazes at Parker. He was so easy to be with, so unlike Joe, who she had to be careful with these days. “What’s with all you guys?” she asked, thinking about Joe. “You actually like to cook?”

  He had removed his shirt after it had become covered with flour. His bare shoulders were muscular, but featured a friendly spattering of freckles. Her stomach contracted. “Yeah. What’s the world coming to?”

  She laughed. He pivoted, revealing a massive chest sprinkled with dark blond hair. A vision of Joe’s bare chest came to her, and how she loved to run her hands over it and kiss his pecs.

  “Now, you have to clean up,” Parker said.

  She bolted up, to escape both the KP duty and also the sight of Parker in just jeans in her kitchen. Something was wending its way to her consciousness that she didn’t want to face. “No way.” She plopped down her wine and turned to the doorway. “I’ve got to check my e-mail.”

  He caught up to her in the living room. “Whoa, there.” She realized then he’d been touching her a lot today. Spinning her around playfully, he was about to speak, but his expression turned sober. “You are so lovely,” he said softly. He reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Your hair’s so soft.” He didn’t draw his hand back. Instead, he soothed his knuckles down her heated cheek. “So is this.”