GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I came here because I made a few decisions you wound up getting hurt by, and I’d do anything in the world to make it up to you.”

  He paused and reached his hand across the table to hold hers. “I mean it, Maggie. Anything. Including keeping my big mouth shut about Henry and Tracy.”

  He’d expected her to smile at his jest and respond to his touch. Maybe even loosen up a bit and let the conversation progress to the point where their bodies and lips were pressed together.

  Instead, she remained stone-faced. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “That’s exactly my point.”

  “You’re being just a little cryptic, don’t you think?”

  As much as he wanted her back, wanted to strip her down and make love her, right here, right now, her lack of forgiveness was starting to annoy him. “You’re right, Maggie. I don’t get one thing. I don’t get why we can’t just agree to disagree without you taking it personally.”

  “Because the things we disagree about are pretty fundamental.” She still had not unfolded her arms or leaned forward in her chair. “Like whether or not you should judge people by who they are on the inside, or the outside.”

  She might as well have just called him a slimeball, like she’d called Rod. “I do not judge people by how much money they have, Maggie. Or by who their families are. It may surprise you to know I even support three different charities without being told to.”

  “Of course you do, Preston. It would be unseemly for someone of your social standing not to. But have you ever served food at a soup kitchen, I wonder.”

  “There’s just no pleasing you, is there?”

  She arched a brow at him, as if she fully anticipated he would not be able to answer her questions in the affirmative, or please her. And she was right. He couldn’t.

  “Just answer me one more question,” she said. “Would you still want to marry me if I didn’t have any money, or if I were a divorced mother like Tracy?”

  “But…” He didn’t know quite how to answer her. He’d never thought of Maggie as being anyone but herself.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said, before he had a chance to speak further. “Thanks for stopping by. I accept your apology, and now you can leave.”

  Chapter 40

  Janelle paced the braided rug on the kitchen floor of the apartment she’d rented in Fort Lauderdale. She’d been stewing about Taralynn Clarke for over a week now. Specifically, seeing the little slut slipping out of Nick’s office the other day. Or was it the way Nick had acted? Like it was okay to do business with the person who was out to destroy her family?

  She’d responded by advising Nick about how much attention he should pay to anything Taralynn had to say. And he’d responded by telling her all editorial decisions for his paper were made by him. In many ways, their relationship reminded her very much of Preston’s relationship with Maggie. She and her baby brother both seemed to have fallen for people of singular devotion to their careers. Both of them were stubborn beyond belief. And both of them were full of passion. A passion that, once unlocked, seemed to bind a person to them for life. Preston and she had both fallen for that passion, and fallen so hard they remained spellbound by it long after their relationships had unraveled. Time and distance had helped her see many more things about Nick, and about herself, with greater clarity. She had to admit, she understood him much better now than she ever had when they were married.

  She should have seen the story on Maggie’s bar coming. It wasn’t really any more of a surprise than the way he’d refused to take her phone calls all morning. That was Nick. He liked to control his own space, but like a benevolent dictator, was usually kind and gentle with those whom he controlled. If she could just get him to cede some of that control to her, get him to trust her enough to do so, their relationship could be strong enough to withstand anything.

  A knock on her apartment door startled Janelle out of her incessant pacing. And who should be standing there but Nick? “Surprise, surprise,” she muttered. “You don’t have enough time to take my calls, but you do have enough time to drive to Fort Lauderdale.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, Janelle.”

  He walked into her apartment without being asked, and looked the place over. She’d rented the apartment furnished, after approving photographs she’d been shown. She figured Nick was trying to decide if she’d brought her own furniture with her the way she used to do when they were married. God, how he’d hated that.

  “The place came furnished,” she said, just so he wouldn’t have to strain his curiosity any further. “Would you care to talk about that story you just ran?”

  “I’ve already had that discussion with Maggie.” He took a seat at the counter that ran between her kitchen and dining room. “To be honest, I fail to see what input you, as a non-interested party, might have on the subject.”

  “Don’t be a smug asshole with me, Nicholas Beck.” She had never taken any of his shit, and she wasn’t about to start now. “If you’re still pissed off about our divorce, just say so and get it off your chest.”

  He walked over to her side and slipped an arm around her waist. “Okay, I’m still pissed off about our divorce.” When he caught her gaze, he winked. “I’ll bet you never expected to hear me say that, did you?”

  “No,” she admitted. Nick surprised her. He was less worshipful of her than she remembered, but also more conciliatory. He also had pressed himself close to her side and was making it hard for her to assert the physical control over him she was used to having. “I suppose you’re going to tell me now it was the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “No. Far from it.”

  Nick looked down at her with a familiar, smoldering look in his dark eyes. She liked the way his hair had grayed in the last few years. It gave him a distinguished look. The way his body radiated heat reminded her of how long it had been since she’d been with a man she really cared about, and how bored she’d become with a life that once seemed so glamorous.

  Changing position, Janelle snuggled closer to him, and gave him her best come-hither look. “What do you say, Nick? Once more for old time’s sake?”

  Chapter 41

  Jane Kingsley had never felt so used by a man before. She could kill Rod Skinner.

  Of course, she had never been so well used by a man before either. And for that, she could copulate with him all over again.

  Damn, but above all else, she was thoroughly and completely pissed. What a fucking moronic animal he was.

  And what an animal he was.

  She tried to put her anger aside for the moment and think rationally. Rod had left how she accomplished the task up to her, but had made it very clear Maggie McKenzie’s bar was to be exonerated and re-opened at once. Success in accomplishing the task would net her the video of her having sex with Rod. Failure would put her movie premiere on the internet.

  Of course, she could sue him if he followed through with his threats, probably even have him arrested and ruin his career, but that would not keep the film from being made public in the first place.

  With shaking hands, she took out the stack of photos, handed personally to her in a plain manila envelope. One photo clearly showed her giving Rod oral sex. In the next one, he was taking her from behind, his hands squeezing her breasts. Then there was a shot of her hand cuffed naked to the bedpost, and another of him taking her while she was tied to the pole. Man, had that ever been great.

  She actually liked the photographs. Got a strange thrill out of knowing she was in his collection. Thrill or not, however, the last thing she wanted was that movie, or any of these photographs, going out over the internet. Her career would be over quicker than having sex with a man with erectile dysfunction.

  After thinking the matter over for all of two minutes, she knew, without question, it was worth the one little indiscretion she was about to commit to make sure the proof of her fling with Ro
d Skinner would never see the light of day.

  Besides, she reasoned, Rod had to be right about DeSantis setting up Maggie. There had never been any complaints about the bar, and DeSantis had initiated the inspection himself, citing only an anonymous phone call that he, himself, took. If not for the evidence he’d taken from the bar, obtained while he was alone in whatever room he claimed to have found it in, she’d simply overturn the man’s decision and re-open the bar at once.

  Fortunately, after tossing around a couple of ideas, she hit upon a way to accomplish the task Rod wanted. The evidence her colleague had so proudly brought in had not yet been photographed or logged into the computer. Investigating a bootleg operation had kept her department busy in Jacksonville and little things like a bar closing had been put on the back burner until the current op was over.

  How easy would it be for something as insignificant as half a joint to come up missing? With no record of its existence, well then, there would be no case. Maggie’s bar would be re-opened, Rod Skinner would be happy, and her sexual appetite would be made safe from public viewing. The way she saw it, it was a win-win situation.

  While guarded all night long, the evidence locker presented little trouble getting in and out of during the day. No one expected anyone to try and break in during the afternoon when the building was fully staffed.

  Just do Rod this one favor. Just this one time. And then – Jane tapped her fingers impatiently on her desk – and then maybe she’d have a little more movie-making fun with the guy. This time, making sure the film was destroyed as soon as they’d both had fun watching it.

  The thought of it brought a smile to her face. She left her office in an upbeat mood and headed off in search of half a joint.

  Chapter 42

  Preston didn’t know what had possessed him to visit the domestic shelter in Miami with Maggie. No, strike that. He did know what had possessed him. Something to do with that accusing question she’d leveled at him about whether or not he’d ever served food at a soup kitchen. And, of course, the alone time it afforded him to be with her.

  It was a nice day out, too. A great day for golf, with the sun high overhead and not a cloud in the sky. Not so hot as to make the game sweaty and uncomfortable, but plenty warm enough to make it enjoyable. Mondays at the country club were never crowded either. He could just picture himself out on the greens, preparing to tee off.

  Instead, he stood facing a bleak concrete building about three stories high. Rows of windows lined the front, most of them open to let in whatever breeze wafted by. A metal fence encircled the property, giving Preston thoughts of enraged family members trying to get at the people hiding inside. It made him uncomfortable to think about, and he really wished he didn’t have to be here.

  “What’s the matter?” Maggie asked.

  She’d been walking behind him, as if she expected him to turn around and try to head back to the car.

  He shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just waiting for you to catch up with me.”

  “Really?”

  She frowned, narrowing her turquoise eyes at him. He allowed himself the luxury of drinking in the sight of her, hair blown across her face, long legs shown off by a pair of white denim shorts and a blue tank top, clinging to her chest in exactly the right way.

  “Yeah, I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”

  He held open the door for her and followed her into a room that had all the color of a hospital without the clean, antiseptic feel. The room was really more of a cubicle, with a small reception window to his left and a big, steel door directly in front of him.

  “Making sure they don’t get any uninvited guests, aren’t they?” he observed.

  “That’s the idea,” Maggie shot back. “It’s a shelter, remember?”

  “I remember.” He went to the unmanned reception window and rang the buzzer. Moments later, an older woman with gray hair, wearing a plain blue dress and an apron, came to the window.

  “May I help ….” Her gaze shifted to Maggie and she smiled. “Miss McKenzie. It’s wonderful to see you again. Hang on a minute and I’ll buzz you right in.”

  “Thanks, Judy.”

  Maggie was smiling. An excitement highlighted her face that Preston thought seemed out of place with their surroundings.

  A loud buzzer sounded and seconds later, Maggie opened the large steel door in front of them. Inside, a long hallway, done in more of the faded white tile color that had been employed in the cubicle, greeted them. Several more hallways opened up off this one, and while Preston couldn’t see very far down them, he could see enough to know it was just more dingy white tile.

  Sounds of human conversation floated down the hallway now, integrated with assorted bangs and clatters, indicating the building was a much livelier place than it first appeared. He imagined the life taking place inside these walls. People talking, watching TV, eating together in a community-style mess hall. He wondered what they talked about, whether they compared notes on their abusive spouses, and whether any of them had ever appeared on Jerry Springer.

  Judy, who had met them on the other side of the door, hugged Maggie with a broad smile on her face, then looked over at Preston and asked, “Who’s this you’ve brought with you? You finally go out and get yourself a boyfriend?”

  His insides constricted at the mention of the word boyfriend. Had Maggie dated many men in the last three years?

  She shook her head. “Not yet, Judy. This is Preston Tyler, the President and CEO of Ty-Ken Communications. His company’s going to be a major sponsor of the children’s home.”

  “You don’t say!”

  Judy looked at him with such welcoming happiness and enthusiasm he was starting to feel like a jerk for not instantly wanting to come to the shelter when Maggie first asked.

  She thrust out a chubby hand. “I am so happy to meet you! Come on in. Let me show you the children’s ward. I’m sure you can’t wait to see the little tykes.”

  Little tykes? He thought instantly of plastic children’s toys and furniture. Turning around now and running for the car struck him as an appealing possibility. He’d never spent much time around kids. They made him nervous.

  Judy didn’t give him much time to consider the matter, however. She gave his hand a brief shake and headed down the hallway. They made three turns, passing all kinds of people coming and going from the rooms, all of them women and children.

  Many were shabbily dressed, but some looked like they’d just stepped out of the fitting rooms at Neiman Marcus. Domestic violence appeared to be even less discriminatory than Maggie. All of the residents stared at him in a way that made him feel like he was the enemy just by virtue of his gender. Or was that his imagination?

  They passed by a large cafeteria, and another large room that had two television sets bolted high on the wall, a box of old toys and books, and a pool table. “Maggie donated the pool table to us,” Judy said as they walked by. “Took up a collection for the toys and books for the kids, too.”

  He turned to look at Maggie, but she had turned her gaze to the room where the women and children were playing.

  “The children’s ward is through the courtyard and in the back.” Judy led them to a set of double doors at the end of the hall.”

  As soon as she opened the door, he heard the sound of children’s laughter. The shouts and giggles carried a happy, carefree sound to them, like any typical group of kids at play. It seemed oddly out of place. Nothing about this place seemed to fit.

  In surprising contrast to the drabness they’d just exited, the courtyard was a large, rectangular space, with trees and bushes and picnic tables. A state-of-the-art playground occupied the center, complete with jungle gym, swings, slides and a climbing wall. About forty or fifty kids played there. Some were just toddlers and a handful looked to be in their teens. “This place is pretty nice,” he observed. “Lots of kids here.”

  “A lot of these children belong to the women staying at the shelter,” J
udy explained. “But we also take in children who are wards of the Court, awaiting adoption or, more probably, transfer to foster care.”

  Preston glanced over at Maggie. He’d expected her to be watching him, gauging his reaction, but her attention remained focused on the playground, where a boy of about ten was trying to walk up the slide, while a group of little girls were waiting to slide down.

  “Scott, you have to use the ladder,” Judy hollered. She turned to Preston. “Scott just arrived here two days ago. His father abandoned him when he was a baby, and his mother just had her parental rights terminated by the Court. Meth addict.”

  She gave Preston a knowing look, as if it were the sort of thing he heard all the time. He looked back to the playground and noticed the boy hadn’t budged from the slide. Evidently, Judy noticed, too.

  “Excuse me a minute, Mr. Tyler. I’ll be right back.”

  While she hurried over to set the playground rules in place, Preston reached over and grabbed Maggie’s hand, catching her attention. When she looked at him, he got the probing stare he’d been expecting.

  “I paid for the construction of the courtyard and the playground for the children,” she said.

  Looking around, he figured that cost a pretty penny. “I actually guessed that. Certainly explains why this place is so much nicer than the rest of the building.” He halted, wondering if he should have said that last part, but if she found it classist of him, she didn’t say so.

  “It’s going to be a lot nicer when there’s a place they can really call home.” She looked back at the dreary building, as if seeing its possibilities. “Once we raise enough funds, we’re going to start construction of a permanent residence facility here for children waiting to be adopted. And small apartments for children aging out of foster care who need housing until they get on their feet, or while they’re going through college. There’ll also be smaller housing units with backyards for the families fleeing domestic violence and a nicer, more comfortable environment with more of a large family home feel to it for the children who are wards of the State. There’s even going to be a swimming pool, and if we get enough money, on site schools and a health clinic.”