Talking In Your Sleep...

by Hunter, Samantha

  “I wish we could be open about everything so that everyone could admire you as much as I do,” she said regretfully, and he squeezed her hand in response.

  “It’s better that they don’t know how we met, for the sake of the shelter, but for me, too, Pam. I don’t want people looking at me for where I came from. I want them to see me as I am, now. With you. With my degree in hand, my new place, my new job…The past should be left in the past.”

  Pam didn’t completely agree, if only because Ted had picked himself up from such a low point and had not only defeated the odds, but beat them senseless. She loved him; she was proud of him and she knew his story would give other people hope. Unfortunately, it would also raise suspicion and cast a jaundiced eye on her reputation as a nonprofit manager. While they were two consenting adults, they couldn’t make their history general knowledge. It was too risky.

  They couldn’t even have people at the shelter know—it would open too many doors that should stay shut. After a while, when Ted was out on his own, established in his work and his life, they could let everyone know, saying they’d gotten together after the fact.

  Still, it bothered Pam so much to have to lie.

  The music ended and she didn’t realized how tense she’d become in Ted’s arms until he looked into her eyes with concern. She blew out a breath, laughing softly.

  “Okay, sorry. I know I should leave work at the office.” She dropped her hands from his shoulders as they walked from the dance floor. “I love that tux—you look right at home in it.”

  “Pays to buy quality.”

  She stepped back in surprise. “You bought that? It’s yours?”

  He grinned. “I wasn’t taking you out in a rented monkey suit, and I plan to get a lot of use out of this over the years. Clothes make the man,” he reminded her, a quote from one of their favorite goofy movies, Joe Versus the Volcano. She grabbed his hand and tugged him down close.

  “No. I think in this case it’s very much the opposite.”

  “Well, thank you ma’am,” he said, his eyes sparkling with desire. “How about one more drink, and then we can take the party home?”

  “That sounds like a perfect plan,” she agreed.

  She’d stayed a respectable time, had fun, mingled with the people she needed to mingle with, catching them up on the shelter’s latest doings and making sure they knew how critical their donations and services were to the shelter’s success. She’d even managed to convince the manager of a small local grocery chain not to drop their program asking customers to donate at the cash register. Every small victory counted.

  Glancing toward the bar to see if Ted was making his way back to her, Pam caught the eye of Martin Solese of Solese Construction. She hadn’t seen him earlier, and he was one person she was trying desperately to hold on to—the shelter needed new front steps in the worst way and she didn’t have enough cash on hand to pay full cost. However, Martin had become so in demand in the local housing market that she never really saw him anymore. His secretary said she forwarded Pam’s calls, but Pam never got a response.

  She thought it might have to do with the fact that he’d asked her out once and she’d said no, definitively. She didn’t mix business with pleasure as a rule, and she’d explained that to him; she hadn’t wanted to jeopardize his support by going out with him. She’d also just met Ted at that time and hadn’t been interested in anyone else. She pasted on a smile as Martin approached the table.

  “Pam! How are you? You look too gorgeous to be here all alone—didn’t I see you dancing with someone?”

  She nodded as he took a chair close by her side, Ted’s chair, wishing he’d taken one a few seats away. “I am here with someone. He’s getting drinks now. I didn’t see you here earlier.”

  “Ah, got off to a late start tonight, waiting for my date.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Probably not. She’s a model from L. A.—we met when I was hired to do a summer house for her father. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.” He delivered the news in a tone that subtly suggested that Pam had missed out. If he was serious about someone else, it would make it much easier to ask him to do some work on the shelter.

  “Listen, Martin, I wanted to talk to you about some work we need done—”

  “Here we are…. Martini for you and, oh…hello,” Ted interrupted them, and Pam looked up, glad he had returned.

  “Thanks. Oh, Ted, I wanted to introduce you to—”

  “Ted…Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Martin interrupted, his expression surprised as he stood and shook Ted’s hand. Pam noticed that Ted had gone a little pale and set his drink down on the table with a shaking hand.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Ted responded gruffly. And then it hit her and she felt slightly panicked—of course, Martin had been working on installing new windows right at the time Ted had arrived at the shelter. It seemed unlikely that either man would remember the other, so much time had passed.

  “I remember,” the contractor said, tapping his forehead now, “you helped me put in windows when I did that job at the shelter. Weren’t you…you know, uh, weren’t you staying there?”

  Martin stumbled and Ted caught Pam’s eye as the two other couples returned from the dance floor—one of them being the grocer she’d convinced to keep supporting them.

  The three stared at each other as the implications struck them all simultaneously. Pam hoped against hope that Martin wouldn’t make anything of it. As he turned his narrowed gaze on her, she saw the anger tighten his jaw and she knew she wasn’t going to be that lucky.

  “So…I asked you out at the time and you said you didn’t want to date me because we had a conflict of interest due to my donating work to the shelter—however, it appears that you didn’t feel the same conflict of interest in getting involved with one of your charity cases? Is Ted special or do you take care of all your male residents that well?”

  Pam recoiled but heard Ted growl from across the table.

  “You’d best take that back and apologize, Solese,” he warned in a tone of voice she’d only ever heard him use when some of the guys at the shelter got out of line. She looked up to see him towering over Martin.

  Mr. Douglas, the grocery-store owner, broke in, confused. “What’s going on here

  Ms. Reynolds? What are these two men fighting about?”

  People around them in the country club had started milling about and observing the two men angrily staring each other down. It was too late to save face—the best she could do was to try to keep them from pounding each other.

  “Ted, stop—Martin, back off—you’re out of line.”

  Martin laughed, looking around at his audience. “Oh, I’m out of line? I think you’re the one who’s out of line, dating your male residents…. How many people here know? What do you think they’d think if they did?”

  “That’s enough, Martin,” she cautioned in her own icy tone, reeling with anger. How dare he call her out like this? “I don’t owe any explanations to you or anyone. I can date whomever I like. It just so happened not to be you. The conflict of interest was an excuse—I wouldn’t have gone out with you anyway, so accept that fact and deal with it.”

  Every person’s eyes were trained on her, including Ted, who had lowered his fists, thank God. Martin was so outraged he was beyond words.

  Mr. Douglas broke the silence. “If I am not mistaken, am I to understand that you, Ms. Reynolds, have been dating this man, and he is one of your residents at Second Chance?”

  “Yeah, that sums it up nicely,” Martin added nastily, and she shot him another glare before turning her attention to Mr. Douglas.

  “Mr. Douglas, this is a terrible misunderstanding. Martin is only upset because I turned him down for a date, that’s all, and maybe everyone has had a few too many martinis,” she offered, trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t happening.

  Douglas was old school, and she knew he already had reservations about Seco
nd Chance as it was—he’d heard some news story “exposing” homeless people as con men and layabouts who would rather live off the system than work for a living. It had taken her a while to convince him that that was not the case, at least not in her program.

  “Ms. Reynolds, has your date been a resident of your shelter or not?”

  “Mr. Douglas, this really is not the place for this discussion. If we could make an appointment to talk in private—”

  “I’ll happily make that appointment if you can tell me he was not one of your residents.”

  Pam chewed her lip, painfully aware of all the people watching them now. This was the nightmare she’d been trying to avoid. She tried dancing around the truth, knowing before the words were out of her mouth that it wasn’t going to work.

  “He isn’t—in fact, he has a nice town house on—”

  “But he was, wasn’t he, Pam?” Martin sneered.

  “That’s enough—enough already,” Ted stepped in. “What’s wrong with you people? I lived at the shelter, yes. I got myself together at a point where I needed some help. Maybe you all have had it easy, but it’s not like that for everyone. I have a job, and a home, and a wonderful woman to share my life with. Besides that, I don’t see how this is anyone’s damned business but our own. Pam’s done nothing she needs to explain to any of you, and neither have I.”

  Pam looked up at Ted, shaking her head, the questions in her mind bursting out before she could stop them.

  “Why? Why would you say all that?”

  Ted jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She wanted to take back the words—or maybe not. The public declaration left her no wiggle room, no place to hide. Everyone knew now, and while that might be fine and dandy for Ted, the lives of twelve other people who hadn’t quite gotten their feet under them still depended on her.

  Now that the cat was out of the bag, she knew they’d be losing donor support left and right. How would she manage to keep the shelter open? What would happen to those people who lived there? This was terrible.

  “I’m sorry,” Ted offered in an overly controlled tone of voice that didn’t quite mask his hurt. “I said it because it’s true. Why should they be attacking you because you didn’t want to date this guy?” He glared at Martin again. “We’re consenting adults—we don’t owe anyone explanations.”

  She nodded, not knowing what else to do, unable to say a word. Mr. Douglas solved that problem again.

  “Well, while that may be the case, and you certainly are free to date whomever you wish, you can forget what we talked about earlier, Ms. Reynolds. I had questions about supporting your organization as it was. Considering this new development, I know that I for one do not want to be associated with such a scandalous arrangement.”

  “Mr. Douglas, you don’t understand—”

  “I understand very clearly.”

  With that, he turned and left. People started clearing away from their table, murmuring and whispering, leaving only Ted and Pam looking at each other hopelessly.

  “What now?” Ted asked miserably.

  Pam shook her head. “I don’t know, Ted. I just don’t know.”

  * * *

  Joy didn’t worry about her dreams that night because she didn’t fall asleep. Even though she’d assured Rafe that she didn’t want to engage in any more sensual explorations that evening, they’d shared a glass of wine, a tentative kiss good night, and he’d left.

  She wanted to be relieved, but she wasn’t. All she could think about was how his erection had weighed in her palm, how thick and hard he’d been, and how his desire had touched her at depths of need she hadn’t known she had.

  She could recall the nuance of every moment, how he’d kissed her, the sounds he’d made, as if he was really enjoying himself, really turned on by her—and the end result seemed to imply that was the case. Still, that wasn’t so unusual for guys, right? It was easier for them.

  It was much more difficult for her to think about giving herself over that way. The incident by the door was easy—it was all about him. Though she couldn’t fault him for offering to do his part—truth was, she was scared.

  She was also excited.

  She was a mess, actually.

  Though she’d sent him home tonight, she’d agreed to fun. She was hoping maybe she really could reach down and find the key to loosening up with a guy like Rafe. Could she enjoy being with a man who appealed to her, and her alone? Someone who tempted her to take a chance? She blocked the recurring thought that her father would give her “that look” if he knew she was carrying on with an unemployed ambulance driver.

  Her father wasn’t here, and she was an adult woman, making her own choices. Pam was right—Joy needed to take control and stop worrying so much about what her father would approve of or not, or if her dates met some weird, invisible standard of perfection. That way of thinking hadn’t exactly led to a stellar love life so far.

  Tossing to the other side of her bed, she threw the blanket off, sweating, though cool night air was drifting in from the screen. She hesitated, wondering if Rafe was watching her. The erotic possibility had her squeezing her legs together, trying to quell the need that pulsed through her.

  Was he over there, as hot as she was? Lying awake, wondering about her? Wishing he was here with her? Or did the satisfaction she’d helped him find earlier lead him to the night’s rest he so ardently desired? Selfishly, she hoped he was wide awake.

  She sank her teeth into her lip. Fun. It might be fun to pull the curtain to the side and switch the low light of her closet on, illuminating the room slightly, enough so he could see. Could she do it?

  Do you ever have any fun? Rafe’s question taunted her in the darkness, and she thought maybe she could have some fun right now. She could tempt him from the window. If he was watching, maybe he’d come back over and help her ease the ache that was keeping her awake, and they could have some fun together.

  Her heart beat erratically in anticipation, and she turned the light on low, knowing no one else could see down the side of the house unless they were right outside. Or in Rafe’s house. It would be a private show.

  Slipping her nightgown from her body, she crawled back onto the bed, lying back and drumming up the courage for what came next, when she heard a knock at the door.

  “Wow, that was fast,” she commented with a grin, launching herself out of bed and grabbing her robe on the way downstairs. As she belted it, she wondered if maybe she should abandon it and answer the door naked—that would be fun, right?

  It would also mean standing in her doorway with nothing on—while it was the middle of the night, you never knew who might be walking down the street. It was enough that she was naked underneath.

  Her hands trembled slightly as she turned the burnished brass knob, feeling like the naughtiest girl alive for beckoning a man from her window. Swinging open the door with a smile, she stepped back, her mind blank with surprise when she didn’t find Rafe, ready and willing, but Pam, sobbing and miserable.

  “Pam! What happened? Come in. Oh, my god, honey, what’s wrong?”

  Pam’s makeup was streaked and her hair was disheveled, as if she’d run her hands though it repeatedly.

  “I broke my shoe on your stair,” she said between sobs, and somehow Joy knew that wasn’t the source of her friend’s unhappiness.

  “Come here, sit down. I’m sorry about your shoe, but what happened?”

  Joy grabbed a box of tissues on the entry table and handed them to her.

  Pam blew her nose noisily and took a few gulping breaths, then managed to croak out a few clear phrases, not looking or sounding like the canny, self-assured woman Joy had always known.

  “Oh, Joy.” She took another deep breath, her body shaking with the effort to control her sobs. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now….”

  “Listen, how about a glass of wine and we can talk?”

  “I—I’m s-so sorry, to w-wake you up….”

  “You didn’
t—I was awake anyway, and you probably saved me from making an ass of myself.”

  Pam looked at her curiously through bloodshot, tear-filled eyes, and Joy shook her head. “Not worth discussing—let me get the wine, and don’t worry, you’re sleeping here tonight.”

  Joy knew her friend’s sudden appearance had saved her from making a colossal error in judgment. She didn’t like seeing Pam so upset, but she’d almost made a huge mistake.

  She’d told Rafe that she wanted to take things slowly and see what happened. Five hours after saying that, she’d been ready to do a naked peep show for him from her bedroom window. Her wants, needs and desires were seriously confused, and rushing matters wasn’t going to help any.

  She poured two glasses of wine, emptying the bottle that she and Rafe had opened for dinner, and handed one to Pam.

  “Okay. Now, what happened?”

  Joy could swear she’d never seen anyone in this much emotional pain since her mother had walked out the door on her father. Pam was usually so stalwart and strong, not letting much get to her, and Joy had always admired that. Right now, though, her friend looked completely done in.

  “Oh, God, Joy. Everything is such a wreck. It was all so perfect twelve hours ago. Well, not perfect, but perfect enough, you know? If only I hadn’t gone to that stupid party…”

  Joy leaned in, trying to make sense of the stream of comments.

  “Something bad occurred at the party?”

  “It was a disaster—well, at first it was wonderful to be out with Ted, dancing, and the place looked beautiful, with all the lights and the tree….” Pam stopped, gulping to control breaking into sobs again.

  Joy grabbed more tissues. “Here. Cry away, then talk.”

  Through her sobs, Pam managed to tell Joy, in detail excruciating enough that Joy completely shared her friend’s embarrassment and pain.

  “That Solese! He’s such a pig—he came on to me, too, back then!”

  Pam’s astonishment stemmed her tears. “Are you kidding?”