by DC Thome
“I want you to tell it to me straight,” Sushma said. “No bullshit.”
“Okay. She’s pretty—but there was more to it than that. We had a few similar experiences growing up, which is weird when you think about our backgrounds. We had some nice conversations. She seemed to get me. I felt comfortable with her.” His face darkened and his hands balled into fists. “Which was pretty goddamned stupid. I fell for her act, all right. Played right into her Big Plan.”
“I do not believe that is true.”
“What do you mean?”
“All of the women who have passed through The Rotation—especially during the past few years—were they all so unacceptable to you?”
“They were nice girls. Fun.”
“Were you dissatisfied with their looks?”
“With their looks? No.”
“Do you prefer women who are tall and fair and, shall we say, slender?”
“I don’t have any problem with women who are short and dark and—” He stopped. Wait a minute. “What are you getting at?”
“You are saying that all of the women were beautiful, but you were looking for something more that was always missing?”
Clayed mulled it over. “Yeah. I guess.”
“That did not happen by chance.”
Clay crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. “What’s going on?”
“Be truthful with me,” Sushma said, trying to speak as though tears were not already rolling down her cheeks. “What is the number one thing you see in Lara Dixon?”
“The truth? I don’t see anything in her. Not anymore.”
“Are you certain?”
“She lied, Shush. She lied because she wanted to destroy me.”
“Yes, that is true. However, sometimes a person’s motives are pure, even though his or her actions may seem not to be.”
For a man who’s supposed to know so much about women, why can’t I figure them out? “Okay. I’m completely lost.”
Sushma looked down and spoke as quietly as Clay had ever heard her speak. “She is not the only one who has been lying to you.”
Clay froze.
Sushma looked him in the eye. “I have done things that I am not proud of. Things that were not fair to you. I took control over parts of your life that I had no right to control. I said it was for the good of the business, but the real reason…”
She looked away and swallowed a sob.
Clay felt a wave of panic. The “real reason.” How obvious. His mind raced, trying to identify signs he had missed—and he realized they had been everywhere.
“Oh, Shush. I feel like such an ass. Like a complete ass.” He let go of her hands and stood up. He didn’t know what else to say. As fond as Clay was of Sushma, he did not love her. And yet, though her eyes were red and cheeks streaked, she was as exotically beautiful as when she had joined The Rotation all those years before.“But don’t worry, I’ll never have anything to do with Lara Dixon again. Ever.”
“Whatever. Only you can decide whether to be an ass, or a complete ass.” She started to leave, stopping halfway to the door. “There is one more thing. I promised to deliver a message from her. She said she would be hanging with Sol tonight. I do not know what that means. She said you would.”
I would?
After Sushma left, Clay stood against the railing and looked out at the sun and the water and the haze in between.
23
Lara stood on her fingernail of a porch and remembered the phone ringing one Saturday morning. Could it really have been just a few weeks ago? Lara edged over to the corner and craned her neck to catch a glimpse of sky. She sighed. Why was it such a chore to catch even a glimpse of the beauty that existed all around her?
A half-hour till sundown.
Lara went back inside and contemplated a piece of clothing draped across the foot of the bed. A white cotton shirt. She smoothed it out, picked it up and held it to her face before slipping it on. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the plum-colored stain over her heart.
The shirt’s tail moved with a breeze that wafted through the room. Time to go. She picked up her car keys and headed out.
* * *
.
A zephyr wind caressed Lara’s hair as she approached the bluff at Ocean and Arizona. Point Dume looked like a glowing pot of gold at the end of an invisible rainbow. I was there—but where was the gold?
Lara brushed her hand across the stain on the shirt as she leaned against a railing and watched the sun make its inexorable descent. A noise came from behind her; she whipped around to find an old man and woman walking arm-in-arm.
“Eh, she look bootiful tonight, no?” The man grinned. The woman had bony shoulders and a wide bottom. Her gray hair was pulled back tight and she wore orthopedic shoes. The man was bent at the waist and limped. He had on brown Dacron pants, no doubt purchased during the Jimmy Carter presidency, and a silver-and-orange patterned shirt that never should have been sold to anyone anywhere. And it was buttoned wrong. But he smiled as wide as a man could smile.
They sure look happy together.
“Bootiful, yes?” the old man asked again. He nodded, but Lara couldn’t tell if it was toward the sunset or the woman on his arm. They continued to a bench on the other side of a palm tree.
As the sun dipped behind the outcropping of rock so many miles away, the sky, the land and the water all burst into flames. It was the same every day, but Lara never got tired of seeing it. She closed her eyes, lifted her chin and took a deep, invigorating breath of cool, salty air.
And then another voice came from behind her.
“The view is amazing from here.”
Lara’s heart jumped. Though she gripped the railing, she could not feel her hands. Or her feet. Or anything else. Just a warm, buzzing electricity running through her body and soul. Lara wanted to open her eyes and run to Clay and embrace him and maybe even make love with him right there at the edge of the cliff, with the old couple just a few feet away and all the rush-hour traffic crawling by on the street.
“Yes, I’ve always loved the ocean.”
“So have I. But I’m not talking about the ocean.”
Lara turned around, and then slowly opened her eyes to see Clay just a few steps away. He had no Centurion cocktail in his hand. No beautiful escorts hanging on his elbows. Just Clay, his hands thrust into his pockets. His face was turned downward, but when he looked up at Lara, she could see the sunset, a dazzling array of purples and magentas and oranges, reflected in the golden rings of amber in his eyes.
“Oh, Clay…”
He moved close to her.
“Clay, I don’t know where to begin.”
“How about like this?” he said, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her to him. The sunset glowed all around them in a kiss that lasted long enough to make up for the ones they had missed.
“I was so wrong about everything,” Lara said when the kiss ended at last. “I wanted to destroy you, so I did terrible things and told terrible lies. I mean—look at this.” She leaned forward and pulled on the part in her hair to show him the blond roots. “Even my hair.”
The wind blew her hair off her forehead.
“I don’t care what color your hair is,” Clay said, “as long as it doesn’t stop me from seeing your beautiful face.” Then he put a hand under her chin and looked into her eyes. “I forgive you for whatever,” he said, “as long as you forgive me.”
“Forgive you?”
“The man you wanted to destroy deserved to be destroyed.”
“I made a mess of things,” Lara said.
“Yes, you did. I need to thank you for that.”
“But, my idiotic plan.”
“Idiotic? It worked.”
Lara pulled back and waited for him to continue.
“You wanted to be the woman who ended The Rotation, right?”
Lara cringed.
“This is how the end of The Rotation comes to be: Clay Creighton falls in l
ove.”
Now Lara looked up into his eyes. He had the old confidence. But not the swagger. Just sincerity. And tenderness. And humility.
“You’re right,” he said. “I haven’t been telling you the truth, either. But I’ll tell you the truest thing I ever knew: I love you, Lara Dixon. I’ve loved you since that first evening, when we talked all night about cars and sports and—”
“And whether love really is a battlefield?”
Clay outlined the wine stain with a finger. “And whether love really is a battlefield.”
“Oh, Clay…I love you. I knew it then, too. I knew it—and I should have put an end to my stupid plan right on the spot.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good,” he said. “We weren’t ready.”
“And we are now?”
He kissed her again, and suddenly the world was warm and cool and open and mysterious and bright and muddled—gloriously muddled—all at the same time. And she could live with it that way.
THE END
The opening to
FAST LANE ROMANCE #2: MALIBU BRIDE
COMING SOON
The Malibu sunset was stunning. Tongues of reflected fire danced red and gold on Santa Monica Bay. Even the air glowed. But standing on the deck outside her office at Fast Lane Enterprises, Sushma Vishnuveda stared at her phone. It was time to make the call.
Why did I not see this coming?
For six years Sushma had worked day and night to save Fast Lane, the men’s entertainment empire owned by notorious billionaire playboy Clay Creighton. The man Sushma loved. She had been so sure that someday he would love her back. And then Lara came along, intending to destroy him. But it was Lara he fell for, destroying Sushma’s hope of having him as her own.
It is my own fault. I wanted him as a lover, but he saw me as a colleague. Mixing business and romance? Never again.
Sushma felt her certainty grow. She had to change the way she related to men. The way she spoke. The way she carried herself. She turned her back on the sunset and faced her office window. It reflected a petite woman with eye-catching curves and full, sexy hair. But Sushma saw a body that needed to be taller and straighter and hair that was too thick. In short, she saw everything that Lara Dixon was not.
The way I look—that will have to change, too.
And the first step toward creating the New Sushma was to make the call.
Sushma flipped through the contacts on her phone until she came to Holt Richards. Or, more precisely, HRP. Holt’s company was one of Hollywood’s premiere packaging agencies, working out deals that brought top talent—movie stars, directors and screenwriters—together. Big deals. Important deals. The kind that were touted in Variety and talked about by envious people in the trendiest bars.
It meant, of course, working with bastards, but that didn’t frighten Sushma. Partly because Holt wasn’t a bastard. He was a gentleman. Handsome. Well-dressed. And, like Sushma, a UCLA grad. Thoroughly professional. And respectful. He would make a good boss. But, mostly, Sushma knew she had right temperament.
I know how they think, because I have been a bastard, too.
She jabbed the touch screen with her thumb and listened for the ring.
Fast Lane Romance #1
PALM SPRINGS HEAT
by DC Thome
Published by T2W Inc.
Kindle Edition
Copyright©2012 Dave Thome
Palm Springs Heat was originally published as Fast Lane by Dave Thome in November 2011.
Kindle Edition License Note
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase a separate copy for each recipient. If you did not purchase this copy, please go to Amazon.com to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of all authors.
Palm Springs Heat is a work of fiction. All characters, situations and dialog are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to events or to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DC Thome is the romance-writing pen name of Dave Thome, a self-employed journalist whose work has appeared in several magazines and newspapers. He’s also taught writing at Marquette University and wrote 20 screenplays, several of which have been optioned by film production companies or won writing awards. A lifelong Wisconsin resident, he lives in the Milwaukee suburb of Shorewood with his wife of 30 years, Mary Jo.
MORE BOOKS DC/DAVE/DAVID THOME
Man Writing a Romance by Dave Thome: A collection of humorous essays about love, sex and one man’s journey into the world or romance novels. Based on the blog Man Writing a Romance, which chronicled the writing of Palm Springs Heat. Available for Kindle at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005YU8GRK.
Metal Mom, A Screenplay by Dave Thome: When suburban mom Anna Petrovic shocks her husband and teenaged kids by resuming the heavy metal singing career she left behind years ago, everyone in the family needs to learn to adjust—which is more easily said than done. Available for Kindle at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007S6O3BG.
Follow the Man Writing a Romance blog as DC continues Lara and Clay’s story—and expands on the stories of other characters from Palm Springs Heat in Fast Lane Romance #2: Malibu Bride and Fast Lane Romance #3: San Fernando Dreams and to get updates on release dates. http://manwritingaromance.blogspot.com/