Cal raised himself to his full six feet, two inches, and they stood toe to toe and head to head. “Damn straight. Let’s get to work.”
* * *
By Thursday morning, Leslie relaxed, tired but happy. They’d saved every peach. The ripe, damaged ones went into preserves. The green peaches had been dried and placed in the sun to ripen, and the ripe, unblemished peaches were already on the way to the markets. When the three of them sat down to supper Friday night, they smiled at each other, but were almost too tired to eat. And for the first time since she’d come to the Estates, Leslie had a feeling of oneness with them.
“Thank God, Jordan will be here tomorrow,” Cal proclaimed. “I never told him what we were doing when I called him from Hagerstown. He’ll see when he gets here.”
Leslie sat up most of the night pondering the market potential of the logo designs. With the help of pictures in some country and gardeners’ magazines, the three of them had developed several ideas from which Jordan could choose. When she finally got into bed, she hugged herself. “I think I’ll die if I can’t see him, touch him tomorrow. I think I’ll just go crazy.”
This time, she wouldn’t be reticent—and she wouldn’t worry about what people would think. Julia had her Cal, didn’t she? And if Ossie wanted to be full of attitude, that was his problem.
At about two-thirty Saturday afternoon, she heard the motor of the Town Car—Jordan had garaged it at the airport—and ran as fast as she could from the kitchen to her apartment. She quickly took her hair down and brushed it out, put on some lipstick and a dab of perfume. Then she slipped into the red sundress and her white sandals.
“I can’t let him see me in jeans and these old sneakers,” she told herself. In a minute, she would see him. Oh, she couldn’t face him. She smoothed her hair and looked at herself again. Her blood raced, and anxiety knotted her belly as she anticipated the feel of his mouth on hers. He wouldn’t get away this time. If she had to make the first move, she’d do it. Even with her limited experience, she knew when a man wanted her, and Jordan Saber was on fire for her. She calmed herself, reminded herself who she was and what she wanted from life, but her treacherous mind conjured up a picture of his mouth at her breast, and shudders shook her.
Knock! Knock! When she didn’t answer immediately, he called, “Leslie, open up and let me in.” It would be the first time he’d been to her apartment since the day she moved in. She went trembling on liquid legs to the door, hoping she wouldn’t betray herself.
“Hi.” She said it softly, almost breathlessly. The cook, housemaid and accountant were gone. It was the woman standing there.
“Hi. Aren’t you going to let me come in?” He noticed how nice she looked in the middle of the day in that red dress and her hair around her shoulders, and he hoped it was for him He had almost killed himself exceeding the speed limit all the way from Baltimore to get back to her. And then, to discover what they had done for him! When Cal had showed him, speechless, he had said nothing. He’d simply turned around and gotten to her as fast as he could.
“Y…yes, sh…sure. C…come in.” He stopped right in front of her.
“Did you miss me?”
She wanted to hurl herself into his arms, but she stood there, her composure shot. “Yes. I mean, no! I mean, was I supposed to?”
He stepped closer and gently lifted her chin. “Did you miss me, Leslie?” His voice had a huskiness she hadn’t heard before.
“Jordan. I—Jordan—Oh, Jordan!” He took off his hat, threw it across the room and gathered her into his arms. Then he gently touched her lips with his, as though waiting to see if she would reject him, but she just moved into him, locked herself to him.k He’s hungry, she thought. Hungry. Starved like me. He pulled her closer and moved his mouth over hers, increasing the pressure, deepening the kiss. She didn’t back off. The more he wanted, the more she gave, and the more she wanted to give.
She trembled in the grip of her first true awareness of herself as a woman. None of her dreams of him measured up to the feeling of his mouth, gentle, but urgent and hungry on hers, of his hard body pressing against hers, of his arms caressing her. She felt him in every molecule of her body. She tried to get closer, seeking to satiate something that she couldn’t name, couldn’t identify. She squeezed him to her until her arms ached. And still she tugged him closer. Lord, he felt so good. So good! She reeled under the onslaught of her passion. Groaning in the sweet delirium of newfound ecstasy, she held his head in her hands to increase the pressure of his mouth on hers and nearly blacked out when his hand went to her buttocks to settle her between his thighs.
Jordan ran his tongue around her lips and soon realized that she didn’t know how to respond. “Sweetheart, open your mouth for me. I want to kiss you.” She parted her lips, and he gave her his tongue, intending to explore every centimeter of her sweet mouth. But she pulled it in as far as she could get it, and sucked on it as if it were the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted, the essence of life itself. He moaned, strung out with desire, with longing fed over months of daily torture. At last she was in his arms, her breast pressed against him, her arms tight around him, her warmth heating him to boiling point.
He teetered toward problems with his control, but he reeled himself in. She fitted him perfectly. He’d known that she would. And the best fit was yet to come. Trying to control the heat settling in his loins and wanting to keep full arousal at bay, he started to turn sideways, still holding her. But she wouldn’t give him a centimeter, just moved into him again. The hell with it, he thought, I want this. I need it. And she’s mine! He put his hands in her hair, held her head still and made love to her with his tongue, his mouth, until she moaned aloud.
“Sweet, so sweet,” he whispered, kissing her again and again.
When he brushed his fingers gently over her breast, she cried out, “Oh Jordan, Jordan, something’s happening to me.”
“I’m what’s happening to you,” he wanted to say. But he didn’t. He did step back a bit, giving her a little space. To his amazement and pleasure, however, she moved into him, as though bereft at the separation. It was too much. He lifted her into his arms, pressed her head to his shoulder and started toward her bedroom. Already nearly out of his mind with desire, he felt her kiss his neck sweetly and tenderly, and his arousal was swift and total. He wanted to take her right there in the middle of the floor. She caressed his face with gentle hands and stroked his hair. So tender, he thought, so trusting and loving.
So trusting! What on earth was he thinking about? She was an innocent, and she trusted him He stopped at the overstuffed leather chair and sat down, resting her on his knees. He didn’t dare hold her any closer, but to his horror, she slid up to his lap, snuggling as closely as possible. Her immediate change of demeanor stunned him
“I was trying to hide that from you,” he told her. “That’s why I sat you on my knee.”
Minutes passed, and she didn’t respond or look at him, and he knew something had gone wrong.
“Honey, I want more from you. I need more, but I know you’re not ready for it.”
He sensed her withdrawal and decided to deal with it right then. “Please talk to me. I know your experience with men has been limited, and I know there’s a reason, because you’re young, beautiful, warm and loving. I told you I’d protect you as long as you’re here, and I will. I’ll even protect you from myself, if that’s what you want. I won’t touch you, Leslie, unless you want me to.
“I’ve wanted to hold you almost since the day you came here, but I gave you the space you seemed to need. When I was away, though, I missed you. You’ve become important to me.”
He stopped speaking, because she was looking at him, concentrating on his every word. And judging him. Scrutinizing him. Making up her mind. He waited. What else could he do?
“I can’t stay here indefinitely, Jordan.” At his gesture of dismay, she explained. “I’ve got another year on my master’s degree. I’m not sure how to react to what y
ou’re saying to me. I know what I feel, but I’ve worked so hard and so long to get that ticket to independence that it has to be my first priority. And another thing. You have to give some serious thought to the social consequences of an involvement with me before you get in any deeper.”
He put both hands on her shoulders and set her away from him so that she could see his face. “Do you think I’m blind to what goes on in the world? My only concerns are for our feelings for each other. Your opinions and mine. I don’t give two hoots about anybody else’s judgment, attitude or reaction. Do you understand that?”
She gazed at him, as though searching for the truth in him. Then she lifted her face, and he had the feeling that she wanted to be picture clear to him. “I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt to anyone, but I’m not sure you can rely on that; I’m different from other women. I—”
He didn’t want to hear that. “What do you mean, you’re different from other women?” It amazed him that his voice sounded so calm.
“There’s a reason why I’m not comfortable with men. It’s not my fault, and it’s neither biological nor health related. You said you care for me, and I’m not sure that’s wise.” She attempted to move away from him, off his lap. But he held her and rocked her gently, soothing her.
“And you still can’t tell me about it?”
She shook her head. “I want to, and I’ve tried, but I…I can’t deal with it.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I’ll disappoint you.”
“I’ll be the judge of what pleases me,” he said, his voice strangely gruff and deepening with passion. “When you learn to trust me completely, all of your doubts will be history.”
She tightened her grip on his shoulder as if she wanted to make sure she had his attention. With her nestled in his lap, what and who else did she think could be on his mind?
“Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know. But we’d better back off a little, Jordan, and let me find out if there’s anything to this other than the rocks that fly around in my middle when I get near you.”
He couldn’t help laughing. She’d nailed it right on the head. He stroked her cheek. “At least you feel it too.”
“I’m serious. If we get involved, we won’t walk away from it unscathed. I know I won’t. And we’re not the only ones. Some of the relationships dear to you may go up in smoke because of us. I’m not sure I want to—”
He refused to give her a chance to say no. “All right,” he cut in, “but will you at least let us spend time alone together so we can find out whether this thing between us is for real?”
Her silence lasted a little too long for his comfort, but she finally said, “Yes…Okay. So long as that doesn’t interfere with my studies.”
He didn’t care how many degrees she planned to get. Hell, he’d help her. But now that he knew how deeply she cared for him, even if she didn’t admit it, he was going to have her. It struck him as forcibly as a sculptor’s chisel hits stone that he wanted her for himself alone. Permanently? He didn’t know. But God help him, he was teetering toward it. She wasn’t going anywhere. He’d never been a patient man, but he was going to learn forbearance if it killed him. Somewhere back in his mind, he remembered that she had secrets, maybe dangerous ones, but he suspected it was too late to worry about that.
* * *
Leslie sat on the edge of her bed for an hour after he had kissed her fleetingly and left her. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up. If she was awake, she didn’t want to break the spell. She caressed her arms, her breasts, everywhere he had touched that she could reach. She laughed aloud, and then she cried. She had wanted to know what it would be like to have him hold her, caress her, kiss her. She had just wanted to know. Now she knew, and for two cents, she’d fly. She fought the delirium. And the fear. What if she really was in love with him, as Cal had said, and he decided she was just another puppet in the parade of women who wanted him?
She’d never thought that there would be an insurmountable obstacle to what she wanted most—her master’s degree—because she was willing to do any kind of work, no matter how hard or unpleasant, to accomplish her goal. Jordan Saber was an obstacle, because he made her dream dreams that had nothing to do with a master’s degree in business administration. To let him get next to her, to love him as she knew she could, would end all of that. She wouldn’t do it.
She tried to ignore the whispers of her conscience: You know what you’re afraid of, and it isn’t not getting your MBA, or being dependent on him. You’re afraid to let him make love to you, to touch you, really touch you. Tell him. Tell him everything. Never! she vowed.
* * *
After supper that evening, Jordan sat in his den with Leslie, Julia and Cal and thought of his luck in having the three of them in his life. Three people who had done a Herculean job for him at a time when he needed it, and with no thought as to recompense. Because they cared about him.
He wasn’t yet sure about Julia, but he didn’t doubt that Cal had accepted Leslie as one of them. “How’re we going to market these preserves, Leslie?” Cal wanted to know. “You’re the expert in business administration.” She pulled out the logo designs, and they agreed on one that Jordan decided would thereafter go on every carton and crate of produce that he shipped.
As they settled on a marketing strategy, price and schedule, it occurred to Jordan that Leslie was in her element, just as she’d been when she computerized his business. She didn’t attempt to downplay her attributes as she so often did, and he could tell that, in her mind, she was one among equals. To him, that had never been in doubt.
“All right,” Jordan said, “that’s it. Can either of you think of anything we’ve overlooked?”
“Not a thing,” they replied in unison. Leslie handed Jordan a sheaf of paper.
“What’s this, hon—Leslie?” He had almost called her “honey” before quickly checking himself. If she noticed it, she didn’t make it obvious.
“It’s advertising copy. I thought it might be helpful to give this to local radio and television stations and newspapers. There’s also a design for fliers.”
If Julia and Cal hadn’t been present, he would have done a thorough job of kissing her.
* * *
At the end of the week, he opened a bottle of vintage champagne, and the four of them drank a toast. He was in a mellow mood. He’d come back home thinking that he was one year or more further away from his dream. But they had salvaged the peach crop for him, in fact, gotten the ripe ones to market early, when he could command highest prices. This week, he had seen firsthand how smoothly Leslie and Julia managed the labeling, packaging and shipment of the preserves. The product was very professional and eye-catching, and five supermarket chains had agreed to take the preserves on the advice of their local branches. If he wanted to, he could market the preserves on a regular basis, and it was an idea that had plenty of merit. He and Leslie could make a great team.
* * *
“Got a minute, Jordan?” Cal asked.
They’d finished celebrating, and he wanted to stretch out and organize things in his mind, namely, what he’d sacrificed in Wisconsin in order to get back home quickly, the turn his business was about to take, and Leslie. He couldn’t let her dangle in uncertainty, and he didn’t intend to let her do that to him. He didn’t want to spare Cal a minute, but he would.
“What’s up, Cal?”
They walked back into the den, and Cal closed the door and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Ossie’s taken a dislike to Leslie, and I thought he was rude to her. Fact is, I know he was. Real rude. I spoke to him about it, and he refused to apologize to her. She doesn’t know that part, though.” He walked a few paces, looked down at his shoes and gritted his teeth. “He should apologize, Jordan. I told him I’d speak with you about this.”
He remembered Leslie’s having told him that Ossie didn’t want the two of them together. “Did his comment involve me?” he asked Cal.
At Cal’s widened
eyes, he added, “I don’t expect everyone to understand my feelings for Leslie, but I do expect everybody on my property to keep their negative opinions to themselves.”
He reached for his hat and felt Cal’s hand heavy on his arm, detaining him. “Where’re you headed?”
“You don’t have to ask that because you know. I’ve been through a lot with Ossie, and he’s almost like a brother to me. But he’s going to apologize this very day.”
“Now, wait, Jordan. Don’t be hasty. You don’t even know what he said.”
Jordan put on his hat and started for the door. “He said enough to get a reprimand from you, and not many of the men who have worked here over the years can brag about that. I don’t need to know more.” He walked off, saddled Casey Jones and headed for the men’s dormitory.
He tethered the stallion to a hitching post near the dormitory, as the men jokingly referred to the single-room-occupancy apartment building in which Jordan housed them. In the lounge, several men watched the Baltimore Orioles lose their third straight game, and a few feet away, four men concentrated on a game of rummy. His gaze fell on the recreation area in the back. Rocket sweated on an exercise machine, two of the older African-American men—Zeke and Roland—enjoyed a game of billiards, while Sanchez and McGuinness, the youngest of his workers, played table tennis. It didn’t surprise him that Ossie wasn’t among them, because the man spent his leisure time shaping his future. The harmony among the men—black, white and Hispanic, educated and nearly illiterate, some with families but most without—always amazed him. He attributed it to the possibility that each recognized himself in all of the others. Failed men who’d been offered another chance and who’d grabbed at it and used it. He walked over to Jack, the housemaster, who reclined in an overstuffed leather chair reading an issue of Time magazine and spoke into the public address system. “I want to thank all of you for what you did to salvage those peaches. I know you did it out of loyalty, but you’ll all get bonuses in your next pay.”
After the applause died out, he said to Jack, “Any idea where Ossie is?”
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