“I worry about them,” Margot admits. “If I decide not to get back with Earl I may have to take him back to court and prove to the judge that I’m the best bet. That’ll cost money.”
“You know I’ll help.” My doorbell rings. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” I say, standing up. I hug her. “You’ll make the right decision. I know you will.”
Margot walks with me to the door. Reed is standing on the front steps in a black single-breasted wool coat, holding a wrapped package in one hand.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He kisses me on the lips, and my knees almost buckle. “Who’s this?”
I introduce him to Margot, who eyes him up and down. “Nice,” she whispers. “Very nice. Don’t let him get away.”
She heads off to her car, and Reed and I stand there staring at each other. I am a little shy remembering the intimacies of last evening. I get warm all over thinking of his hands on my body, the musky smell of him, the growling noises that he makes when he’s about to come.
Reed hands me the wrapped box. “I couldn’t resist getting you this,” he says.
I remember my manners and invite him in. I pour him a glass of wine and then I sit next to him and meticulously remove the wrapping. I already know it’s a jewelry box and from a store that is notoriously pricey. I was not expecting this.
Reed is looking at me expectantly so I pop open the lid. I gasp. Nestled against blue satin is a silver charm bracelet with dangling hearts. It is both tasteful and expensive. I’ve seen it in the catalog.
“Reed,” I say, “it’s beautiful but I can’t accept it. It’s too soon.”
As if I haven’t spoken, he puts the bracelet around my wrist and fastens the clasps. Then he kisses me on the lips, long and deep. Our tongues intertwine and dance back and forth. My body is alive and pulsing. I am determined not to make this one of those relationships that’s totally based on sex. I want so much more. I slip out of his grasp. He’s breathing heavily.
“Let’s talk about our vacation.” I say. “What’s Barbados like?”
Reed starts telling me about his friend’s beach house. It sounds like quite the place and comes with a pool and workout facility. As he is describing a huge patio overlooking the ocean, his cell phone rings. He glances at the dial, frowns and stabs a button.
“I don’t mind if you answer,” I say, watching his face carefully.
His expression undergoes a subtle change. He seems a little tense. “This isn’t someone I want to speak to,” he says.
I remember the other phone calls and his seeming avoidance of them. I wonder what’s really going on. What is he not telling me? Is there another woman?
I am not particularly threatened. Men will be men.
CHAPTER 18
Reed and I cook dinner together, then decide to walk off the calories. Our walk ends at the same coffee shop where we initially met. By then we are freezing. I have latte and Reed has tea. We share a dessert and set a firm date for our Barbados trip.
I will leave Yvette in charge for the few days that I am away. Hopefully by then business will have picked up. Holding hands, we walk six freezing blocks back to my house. I am hoping that Reed plans to spend the night. The memories of last evening’s lovemaking are still fresh in my mind and I want to re-create the wonder and explore going there again.
Reed settles in on my couch and pulls me down next to him. He kisses my temples and then the sides of my face. His palms brush my breasts. I am instantly on fire.
“Roxi,” he says, “I am so glad I met you.”
“Me, too,” I say in a husky voice.
We kiss again with intensity and fervor. Things heat up quickly after that. Clothing starts coming off and we need to go to my bedroom before things go any further.
“Let’s go into my room,” I say, tugging on Reed’s hand.
“I thought you would never ask.”
Inside my bedroom, Reed and I stand nude in front of my full-length mirror. His arm is draped around my waist and his chin rests on my head.
“Don’t we look beautiful together?” he says.
We do. He is fit, toned and golden brown all over. I am honey melon and glowing because just being with him makes me feel beautiful. My hair has worked its way free and skims my shoulders. My lips are slightly swollen from his kisses and my nipples are taut.
Reed’s fingers span my stomach. He begins tracing circles against my skin. I turn into him. My arms circle his neck and he kisses me again. His tongue outlines my clavicle and he presses into me. His touch makes me want to bolt out of my skin.
Reed scoops me up and deposits me on the bed. He gets on his haunches and begins to trail his tongue across my flesh. I am pulsating and wired. I am writhing and wanting him to fill me up. I am scratching and clawing at him and I am making noises that are foreign to me.
When Reed enters me I moan. When he begins pumping in and out of me we fall into an easy rhythm. My eyes are wide-open. I am flushed and panting. Reed’s muscles are tight, his eyes are glazed and he is doing his best to hold on to control. I apply pressure, fastening my legs around his back and riding him. He is plunging in and out of me and I am yelping and bucking. Our bodies are gyrating. I bite Reed’s shoulder. He bites me back.
I feel him convulse and I am right with him. We hold each other tight, stare into each others’ contorted faces and find sweet burning release.
Already I am halfway in love with this man. And I think he just might be in love with me.
Reed gets up early next morning to drive back to The City. My house feels empty after he leaves and that in and of itself is strange. I have gotten used to being single and having my own space. I remember Carlo is bringing Bacci to me. I am not sure how I feel about him anymore. Talk about being confused.
I race around trying to pick up my house. Yvette should be over at any moment, thank God. Today we will send out mass e-mails to our entire database thanking everyone for their support and reminding them of Wife for Hire’s services. I am getting desperate, and just about willing to try everything. And I am considering taking a vacation to Barbados. I must be out of my mind.
I get dressed, taking special care with my appearance. It is still fairly early so I bring a cup of coffee with me and I boot up my computer. I check my business e-mails and am pleased to see a few customers I haven’t heard from in a while are in need of services. The twenty-percent discount has brought them back.
In the midst of the business mail is another e-mail from Bette Beautiful. Curiosity forces me to click on the message. I frown as I read another convoluted set of ramblings. This time the message is not couched in a story. I am being told that I need to back off from this woman’s man if I know what’s good for me.
I am called a number of nasty, vulgar names. It is clear from the presentation and the writing that she is not very well educated and her maturity level is that of a sixteen-year-old. She doesn’t mention the man’s name but I am to assume it is Reed she means. Why would a professional man hook up with a low-life looser? This woman is so crass I can’t imagine why Reed would find her attractive.
I remember Reed’s hesitancy to answer his own phone. Must be an old relationship gone sour, I decide. But how does this woman know who I am? Whatever, I will not dignify her lewd and demeaning comments by responding. She is clearly not worth it. I am not, and will never be, a candidate for The Jerry Springer Show. I decide to save this message, too. I’ll discuss this with Reed when the time is right. Meanwhile I’ll keep my own counsel.
I blank my mind and move on. First I decide to cancel my membership with the dating service. I need to give this thing with Reed a chance. I take care of that and am in the midst of answering some customer queries when Yvette arrives.
“Tell me we have new customers,” she says, setting down a cup of Starbucks in front of me.
“Just a few old ones returning.”
“That’s got to be a good thing. What would you like me to do today?”
I hand her a list of thi
ngs Vance was supposed to have taken care of. “Is there anything on that list you think you could handle?”
She peruses the list and hands it back to me. “I can take care of the dog walking, and I can pick up the Taylors’ dry cleaning and check references for the handyman the Steins want to hire. Will that help?”
“Of course it will.” I give her a little hug. The other chores can be split between me and Margot. I give Yvette the address of the family whose dog needs walking and I hand her the key for their home. I always insist on an extra key. I’ll need to get the other one back from Vance.
As Yvette is grabbing her coat and preparing to take off, the doorbell rings.
Yvette glances at me. “Want me to get it?”
“No, I will.”
I open the door to Carlo, eyes hidden behind the usual dark glasses. Something inside me stirs. He is holding a carrier with Bacci in it. A black sedan is parked next to the curb. This time he is using a driver. He gives me a huge embrace, the cat swings precariously from its carrier. Then he kisses my cheek.
“It is so good to see you, bella,” he says. “Someone has to be putting that glow on your lovely face.”
“Staying busy will do that to you.” I am conscious of him still standing on my front step, clouds of cold air coming from his mouth.
“Come in and have a cup of coffee with me,” I offer.
Yvette nods and smiles at Carlo. He nods back and gives her a grin as if she might be an unexpected breakfast treat. With another wave and a seductive smile, she sidles by him, taking off to complete the duties she said she would do.
Carlo follows me into the kitchen, removes his coat and gloves and takes a seat at the counter. He lets Bacci out of his carrier and the cat promptly wraps herself around my ankles and nuzzles me with her nose.
I scratch Bacci behind the ear then I straighten and ask, “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black and sweet.”
Easy enough. The pot is full, which means all I have to do is pour. I shake some biscotti from a tin and put them on one of my good plates. I set both before Carlo and then I sit down and join him.
“How is business?” he asks, blowing on his coffee.
“Awful. Things are very slow.”
“Could be the time of year,” he says knowingly. “You’re running special offers I’m sure.”
“I’m trying pretty much everything.”
I don’t want to sound despondent and desperate. Carlo is still my customer and while we have a good rapport, he doesn’t need to hear my woes.
“What if my corporation uses Wife for Hire exclusively? Will that help?” he asks.
Help? It will save the day. I hope my eyes aren’t bulging out of my head.
I go into business-owner mode. “Just what does exclusively mean?”
“Well, it means providing transportation for the executive staff of three of my companies. It means making hotel and airplane reservations for the same group, catering meetings, planning events, that kind of thing. I would put you on retainer.”
Carlo names a figure he is willing to pay just to keep me available. This time my eyes do pop out of my head.
“Who’s handling all of this right now for you?” I have the presence of mind to ask.
“The various assistants of various departments, and not very well. Most have their own responsibilities so a lot goes by the wayside. Interested?”
He doesn’t have to ask me a third time. “Of course I am.”
Carlo finishes his coffee and stands. “My attorney will send you a contract. You have your people look it over and if everything seems okay we are off and running.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” I say.
I notice he hasn’t haggled over pricing or asked for a corporate discount. He has just handed me an enormous gift at a time I needed it most. I can kiss this man, really kiss him.
Carlo stands, shrugs on his coat and tugs on his gloves. As he is leaving he turns to me. “Roxi have you given any thought to taking your company in a new direction?”
“What do you mean?” I ask carefully. I’ve never fooled myself into believing I know everything. Suggestions from a successful man who has clearly made it are much appreciated.
“Ever thought about upgrading your demographic? Taking your business up a notch?”
I remain silent, waiting for him to go on.
“In addition to what you’re doing you could create a concierge service for people with no time but willing to pay premium prices. If you make your focus major corporations instead of individuals, you’ll have it made. Corporations will pay big money to keep their executives happy. You could smooth the way for executives relocating. And you could even open franchises in some of the major cities. There’s great software out there to help you with that.”
We are on the same wavelength. My mind is already racing like crazy. I already have DeAngelo Creations business, and Carlo would give me excellent references. That should give me entrée into other major companies.
“That’s great advice,” I say, and then I act on my urge and kiss Carlo on the cheek.
Somehow, and I don’t know how this happened, we kiss for real, and I am pressed up against his lean, hard body. My fantasy is alive. Kissing Carlo is something I have always dreamed of so I savor the moment. I am lost in the smell of damp wool and expensive cologne. I am lost in him. His kiss is everything I have dreamed of and more. I am beginning to think Reed who?
We separate and look at each other with something akin to wonder.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Carlo said. “It was presumptuous of me.”
“But very nice,” I said surprising myself.
“We will talk when I get back.”
With that he hurries off and I stand there awed by what has just happened. I wave him off. Then I touch my lips and think about his kiss and how it makes me feel.
Later I force myself to go about my business and try not to feel guilty about Reed. Instead I focus on the meeting I have set up with a disgruntled customer; a chronic complainer. Taiko Tanabe has been with me since the very beginning and pays her bills on time. So it is in my best interest to smooth her over.
I return to my computer and assign myself a list of chores Vance was supposed to have taken care of, like emptying a client’s mailbox and making sure that tickets for a Giants game are purchased. I also have to go on the hunt for a particular beer that a client fell in love with on a recent business trip to Phoenix. I will do all of this after my meeting with Taiko.
While I am driving to JFK Airport where I have agreed to meet Taiko Tanabe, my client, I keep replaying my conversation with Carlo DeAngelo over and over again. At the same time I am trying to get his kiss out of my head. Lucky for me traffic on the Southern State and Belt is minimal. By the time I find a spot in short-term parking, I am excited and challenged by the idea of growing Wife for Hire. Already I am playing around with names for the new division.
Taiko is waiting for me at the bar of one of those trendy restaurants in the international terminal. She is more often out of the country than in. She has her own business coaching executives on social skills and protocol when doing business in foreign countries. She is a tiny woman, but do not let her size fool you. She is one tough cookie. And although she likes to complain, she pays me well so I put up with her.
I’ve already figured that Taiko will not keep returning if she is not satisfied. She isn’t looking for freebies, either, she is just the quintessential perfectionist.
“Thank you for meeting me here,” she says. Taiko is always gracious. “I will be training in Hong Kong and Tokyo for the next few weeks so it is important we get this straightened out.”
I slide onto the bar stool next to her. “What seems to be the problem?”
Bottom line, she is unhappy with Vance.
“I do not think the cleaning service has been coming by regularly. My apartment was coated in dust when I returned. I asked that my refrigerator be stocked
with specific items. It was not.”
I apologize and tell her Vance is no longer with us. I assure her it will all be taken care of, and I tell her she will have a new person assigned that is more attuned to her needs. I have Yvette in mind. She and Taiko will probably be a better fit, anyway.
I pay for Taiko’s two bottles of water and my cappuccino, because that is all she will let me do. She hands me a list of things she needs to have taken care of in her absence, and I assure her it will be done to her satisfaction. Then I get an idea.
“Wife for Hire is branching out,” I say to Taiko.
“You are? What is it you are up to now?” She tosses back a lock of glossy black hair and fixes her heavily mascaraed eyes on me.
I do not break the stare. “We are starting a service geared to executives. People like you who don’t have the time to run or maintain households. Executives recently relocated or just too busy to tend to everyday chores.”
“This sounds like a good plan. You will need new employees then,” Taiko says with brutal honesty. She is already one step ahead. She hands me her card. “I’d like to speak to you more when I get back. Given what I do and you do, we can work something out. Better start interviewing now, find people who are not errand runners but classy.” She slides off her stool and picks up her hand luggage.
Our audience has ended. I feel good. Taiko is a potential second client. She might be tough as nails but she is respected in the industry. Now we are talking about global possibilities for Wife for Hire.
I leave JFK Airport on a high. I am euphoric as I complete the many mundane duties that require my time. I am also thinking Yvette may be the perfect spokesperson for this new venture. She has the looks to head up my concierge effort and she is very cosmopolitan. Businessmen will love her and she will have them eating out of her hand.
While I am at the post office getting a client’s mail I check Wife for Hire’s mailbox. As usual there is a huge stash of junk mail. I toss the majority in the garbage and scan the remainder. It seems I’ve acquired more new clients, and for that I am grateful. A couple of old ones are also back. I’m still not up to last year’s total but things are beginning to look up. It would be nice to go on vacation worry free.
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