A Seductive Kiss

by Francis Ray

  “I want to pound Boswell’s face in until I feel better.”

  “It won’t change things. You’ll be in jail and who will be there for Dianne?” Catherine asked him. “She needs you this time more than ever before.”

  “I still want to hurt him and then her sorry excuse for a father,” he said tightly, clutching the steel rail on the terrace. “A man shouldn’t hit a woman, but I’d think of some retribution for her mother.”

  “Who or what is more important? Revenge or Dianne?”

  “Dianne,” he answered. She’d always come first. “I’m glad you’re my baby sister even if you’re smarter.”

  “I love you, too. I’d fly up there, but she’d not ready to see me.”

  Alex understood. Catherine’s presence would be a reminder that she had it all: a man who was crazy about her, a secure career, a certain amount of fame and popularity. She had everything that Dianne had longed for and didn’t have.

  “Love you, too. I’ll be in touch.” Disconnecting, he called his office and advised his secretary to reschedule his appointments due to an emergency. In his home office, he replaced the cordless phone on his desk and went to the guest bedroom. The luggage was just as he’d left it. He knocked softly. Silence.

  “Dianne.”

  He reached for the doorknob, then decided to get her a bottle of water. Her throat was probably dry from all the crying. Returning from the kitchen with the water, he knocked again.

  He might not be able to tell her he loved her, but he wasn’t going to let her hide from him. “I’m coming in, ready or not.”

  She was sitting on the side of the bed, stooped from the waist, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. Defeated. Trying to control his anger, he sat on the bed next to her. When their arms brushed, she flinched, trembled. Scared. Unscrewing the top, he held the bottle out to her.

  Seconds turned into minutes. She continued looking down at her clenched hands. “I just spoke to Catherine.”

  Her head came up, her eyes wide, her lips trembled. “You can’t tell her what happened.”

  His heart turned over. She looked so hopeless. “I don’t know exactly what happened,”

  Her head went down again. “I—I don’t want…” Her voice faltered.

  Why had the CEO fired her? Alex asked himself. The line was doing well. He’d have to wait to learn the answer. Dianne’s well-being mattered more. However, if Luke found a way to make the CEO feel the same sense of fear and loss Dianne did, Alex would have no problem bringing the hammer down on his head.

  Wanting to remind her that he’d always be there for her, he lightly curved his arm around her stooped shoulders. “You don’t have to talk. I want to stay with you, but I can tell you want to be alone.”

  Her head downcast, she whispered, “Thank you.”

  He folded her hands around the bottle of water. “I’m going back to my office if you need me.” Standing, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  * * *

  Dianne had no idea how long she simply sat on the side of the bed, her head down, her thoughts in turmoil. She had no resources, no means of support. She couldn’t stay with Alex. Every time he looked at her he’d see a failure. She couldn’t stand that. But where would she go?

  A knock sounded on the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

  She’d never felt less like eating. She looked at the phone on the night chest beside her bed. Maybe she could get her parents to change their minds. She was their daughter. Maybe they’d had second thoughts.

  “Dianne.” The door opened. “Dinner’s ready.”

  “Give me a minute, please.”

  “I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

  Her hand trembling, Dianne placed the untouched bottle of water in a small crystal tray on the nightstand and reached for the phone. Before she lost her nerve, she dialed her mother’s cell phone number. As a former model, she’d understand what it meant to be fired, not to have a job.

  Two, three, four rings, then her mother’s recorded voice mail. “Astrid. Leave a message.”

  Dianne swallowed. “Mother, It’s Dianne. I—I really need to talk. I need you and Daddy to get Boswell to change his mind. Please call me back when you get this message.”

  Dianne gave Alex’s phone number and hung up. Her mother checked her cell phone messages regularly. She was too afraid of missing some juicy gossip or one of her salespeople calling about an event or a sale.

  Another knock on the door. “Food is getting cold.”

  Alex was taking care of her again. What would she have done without him? She didn’t even have cab fare, let alone a place to stay for the night. She glanced at the closed door. She wasn’t hungry, but he wouldn’t let it go until she ate something. Food finally wasn’t high on her list.

  A strange sound erupted from her lips. Now that she could eat all she wanted, she wasn’t hungry. Laughter. High. Hysterical. She clamped her lips together. If she didn’t stop, she wouldn’t until she was a blubbering fool.

  Too fat. Too old.

  She winced as she recalled the CEO’s harsh words. Her arms went around her waist. Embarrassment and fear engulfed her. She didn’t want anyone to know, especially Alex.

  “Dianne. I’m not eating without you.”

  Unsteadily, she rose to her feet. She was unsure of what she planned, but for now perhaps she could keep it light, playful. Being smart, he’d probably figured out she was fired. Thank goodness he didn’t know the specifics. “Coming.”

  Looking around for her handbag, she picked it up and went to the bathroom. She always carried makeup. She glanced into the mirror and winced. The manufacture’s claim of mascara not running proved true, but her face looked ravaged, her eyes bleak. She wasn’t sure any amount of powder or rouge would help.

  Reaching inside the bag, she repaired her makeup, put on fresh lipstick. Her hand trembled as much as her lips. Finished, she stared into the mirror. She wasn’t sure she looked any better, but at least it gave her a bit more confidence to face Alex.

  Taking a deep breath, she went to the door and opened it. Alex stood there with his right arm upraised, his eyes filled with concern and determination. Her lips began to tremble more. She wanted so badly to fling herself into his arms and let him fix the problem as he’d always done.

  “Beef tenderloin, mashed potatoes, broccoli, and ice cream for dessert.”

  Some of her favorite foods. He’d remembered. No matter what, he had always been there for her. Dianne, the screwup who couldn’t keep from making mistakes. He deserved better.

  “Thank you, Alex. If you could call me a cab, I can get out of your way.”

  His eyes fired. The lips she’d loved to kiss and tease tightened. “Something wrong with my guest room?”

  “Yes.” She was letting him go first. She couldn’t keep him. Soon he’d tire of her. Why should he want her? He was successful and she was a failure.

  “All right.” He picked up the smallest pieces of her luggage. “You can stay in my room. I want you with me anyway.”

  “What?”

  He stopped and stared down at her. “Last night meant something to me. I thought it meant something to you as well. Was I wrong?”

  She glanced away. “What has that to do with anything?”

  “Being lovers moved us closer than ever. We’re there for each other.”

  “I’ve never been there for you,” she whispered, the truth of her words stinging her. Her head lifted. “I’m selfish.”

  He placed the luggage on the floor. His hands settled on her waist. “I told you once. I’ll keep telling you until you believe. You’re not selfish. You’d be there in a flash if I needed you. The opportunity just hasn’t occurred yet.”

  She didn’t feel better. “I’m a screwup.”

  “Not even close,” he said tightly. “Life hasn’t been easy for you. Despite that, you aren’t cold or callous or a pain in the rear. You care about people.”

  “People just don’t care about me,�
�� she murmured then tensed. She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.

  “I care. So does Catherine. Now let’s go eat.”

  “What about my cab?”

  “Not happening.” Taking her hand, he went to the kitchen. He hoped it was all right. He’d ordered a small bouquet of rose and gardenia blossoms with the food. “Have a seat. I’ll get the food out of the warming oven.”

  He placed her plate in front of her, his on the other side of the table, and then he poured her a glass of red wine. “Once you eat, you can rest or watch a movie.” He took a seat and blessed their food.

  Dianne simply stared at her plate. The only sound in the room was the TV. He always watched the evening news. He felt helpless. It wasn’t a feeling he was comfortable with. He searched his mind for something to say to make her feel better.

  “There was a shake-up in the fashion industry today at the House of Harrington. Dianne Harrington, granddaughter of the founders and known as ‘The Face,’ was fired. Insiders report the model was overweight and beyond her prime.”

  Alex shot out of his seat, searching for the TV control at the first mention of Harrington. He didn’t see it and cursed. The TV was in the wall. The manual controls were on the side and unreachable.

  “Theo Boswell, the new CEO, hired newcomer Hillary Easley. In a prepared statement, Boswell says Ms. Easley has the youth, style, and body shape to take Harrington House to the next level of success.”

  Alex saw the control peeking from beneath the corner of a pot holder. He snatched it up and pressed POWER. He finally turned to Dianne. She looked shattered and lost.

  “Dianne.”

  “I don’t think I’m hungry.” Getting up from the kitchen table, she went quietly to the guest bedroom and closed the door. Alex cursed long and hard.

  * * *

  Three days.

  Dianna had been holed up in the guest bedroom for three days. At least while Alex was home. He’d given her a key the first night, but it was still on the dresser in the guest bedroom. He’d personally stocked the refrigerator with food. There was fresh fruit on the kitchen table. There were even chips and a couple of boxes of Godiva chocolate. As far as he could tell, Dianne had only drunk the bottled water from the refrigerator.

  He started to his office to call Catherine but went to Dianne’s room instead. He hadn’t seen her since the morning after she’d arrived. She’d worn an oversized silk T-shirt. The instant she’d seen him, she’d quickly returned to her room.

  He knew she was still there because he’d asked the door staff to notify him immediately if she tried to leave with her luggage. He’d snuck peeks into her room each night to check on her. Always she’d have the sheet over her head, as if even in sleep she didn’t want to face the world.

  But facing herself and the world was the only way to move on.

  He knocked on the door. Waited. Nothing. Knocked again, then opened the door.

  Dianne was in bed. The sheet was no longer over her head, but at her waist. Her hair was a tangled mess. She wore the same pale pink silk T-shirt. Empty bottles of water were on the night table.

  It stopped today.

  He crossed the room and shook her shoulder. “Dianne.”

  She jerked, then sat up in bed. Her eyes were bleak, her lids puffy.

  “You need to shower, get dressed, and eat solid food.”

  “Go away, Alex.” She reached for the sheet.

  “Dammit, Dianne. Stop wallowing in self-pity and fight back.”

  Her lower lips trembled. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

  His heart clenched, but he snatched her up in his arms. Her eyes widened.

  “Put me down. I don’t want to make love.”

  Alex didn’t answer, just crossed the room to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. Placing her on her feet in front of the showerheads, he turned on the water full blast.

  Dianne shrieked, cursed, fought him. He grabbed both of her flaying hands in his and let the water pelt her. After the longest two minutes of his life, he turned the water off.

  “This stops today,” he said. “Get cleaned up and start living your life.”

  “What life?” she said, tears and water flowing down her cheeks. “You heard the newscaster. I was fired.”

  “So what? You aren’t the first model to lose her job and you damn sure won’t be the last.” He grabbed both of her shoulders and stared down into her miserable face. “You’re more than a job. You’re a special, beautiful woman. You’re smart. You can be whatever you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” she sobbed.

  “Then figure it out.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and extracted his black American Express card. “I have important guests coming to dinner tonight, a couple from Atlanta. Buy whatever you need for dinner. They like beef. We’ll be here at six.”

  “I can’t. You know I can’t,” she wailed.

  “Yes, you can. You just have to have as much faith in yourself as I have in you.” He folded her trembling fingers over the card. “See you at six.”

  Sloshing in his shoes, he went to his room to quickly change. Shortly he was leaving again. Since the only water trail of footprints leaving the guest bedroom was his, she was still in the bedroom. He just hoped and prayed she came out swinging and not defeated.

  * * *

  She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

  Dianne slid down on her butt in the enclosure and stayed there, leaning her head back against the tiled wall. Her life was a mess. If that wasn’t enough, being told by the man you loved that you needed to take a shower wasn’t the best way to start the day. But then her day had been going downhill since Monday. Three days!

  It felt longer. A lifetime.

  She felt the card clutched in her hand, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t look herself in the mirror, let alone prepare a meal for four and entertain Alex’s important clients.

  She wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. The resounding question was: What could she do? She didn’t like the answer that kept repeating in her head.

  Nothing.

  Her head fell forward until her forehead rested on her folded arms across her knees. She wished she could go back to the night they’d first made love. She couldn’t remember when she’d been happier. She’d felt beautiful, sensual. Alex made her feel that way. He made her feel all the wonderful feelings she’d longed for and was so afraid she’d never experience. What had she done for him?

  Nothing.

  The truth ate at her, made her feel even more worthless. They hadn’t been intimate because of her proposal, either. He’d made that clear. It was because he wanted her, had been attracted to her. She brushed water and tears from her cheeks. He liked her the way she was—kissed her in all the wicked places, worshiped her body. To him, she wasn’t too fat or too old.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. He knew her most embarrassing secret. Heck, the entire world knew she’d been fired because of her not-so-firm stomach, her flabby thighs, her big butt, her old age.

  People would see her and think, There’s the fat, old woman. She was a has-been at thirty-two. Her parents had certainly crossed her off their list. Neither had called her back.

  Struggling up, she pulled off the T-shirt and turned on the water. She’d shower, dress, get her luggage, and get out of Alex’s life. He deserved better, and no matter how much she wanted to be the woman he could be proud of, no matter how much she might wish otherwise, she wasn’t that woman.

  * * *

  Alex tried to keep his fear from showing as he unlocked his apartment door a little after six that evening. He hadn’t heard from Dianne since he’d left that morning. He had no idea what to expect. With him were Chuck and June Jefferson, two of his newest clients from Tyler, Texas. Mr. Jefferson’s late father had been a land developer who had left his youngest son several valuable pieces of property in New York.

  “It’s nice of you to invite us to your home for dinne
r, Alex,” Mr. Jefferson said. “After we left probate court this morning, we went sightseeing.”

  “And overdid,” his wife said with an indulgent smile. “Someone should have warned us that your city blocks are nothing like those in Texas. I might not recover for weeks.”

  “The long blocks catch a lot of people unaware.” Alex stepped inside so the middle-aged couple could enter.

  “What a beautiful home you have, Alex,” Mrs. Jefferson said, glancing around the living area. “And what a magnificent view.”

  “Inside and out,” murmured her husband.

  Alex followed the direction of his client’s gaze, saw Dianne coming toward them with a tray of drinks, and grinned. He felt like pumping his fist in the air. She hadn’t run. Crossing to her, he kissed her on the cheek and curved his arm around her waist. “Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson, I’d like you to meet a very close friend of mine, Dianne Harrington.”

  “Please call me Dianne,” she said and held out the tray. “Martini, light on the vermouth.”

  “Thank you. It’s Dianne, if you’ll call us Chuck and June,” Mrs. Jefferson said, reaching for a glass and taking a sip. “Delicious.”

  Her husband sipped his drink. “Man, this hits the spot.”

  “Alex said you were in town on business, which can be a bit rushed,” Dianne said. “Would you like to sit and enjoy your drinks or go into the dining room for dinner? It’s beef Wellington.”

  The Jeffersons looked at each other, then faced Dianne. “Dinner,” they said.

  “Wonderful,” Dianne said. “This way. You can bring your drinks, but if you’d like I have peach tea and coffee.”

  “This is too good not to finish,” Mrs. Jefferson said as she walked beside Dianne. “But I think I’ll have the peach tea. Our plane leaves at six thirty and I detest getting up early already without the added effects of alcohol.”

  “She’s not her best until around eight.” Mr. Jefferson chuckled. “The kids and I learned to walk easy in the morning.”

  “How many children?” Dianne asked as she placed the meat platter on the table.

  “Five,” they answered again in unison, then grinned across the table at each other.