by Lynn Galli
“Yep,” Maria agreed. “You’ll be like a spy. I say go for it.”
Not really, but at least Maria was presenting something appealing to her.
“Everything goes away?” Valerie looked at me.
“Once you’ve completed the class, everything goes away.”
“And I’d be like some operative for the DA’s offi ce?” Her eyes sparkled with delusional visions.
“You’d be asked to contact the person to accept help on your case. Get him to tell you again how he can make it go away and hand over the money.”
Valerie paced from her seat to her kitchen and back. She was smart enough to know she had no other choice, but she liked presenting the image that she was in control. “Fine, I’ll help.”
I could have made a sarcastic remark, but she was stubborn enough to go to jail if I pushed her one step too far. “Good. The mayor and the DA will be happy to hear that.” Even if I’d already told them she’d agree.
86
EIGHT
Light glinted off the glass sculpture and refl ected against the long, thorny cactus. Leave it to Suzanne to fi nd yet another creative way to spend a date. Prior to meeting her, I’d only been to restaurants, movies, or sporting events on dates. Going to a museum, a roller rink, fl ying a kite at the park, she seemed to have a million ideas. Tonight, we were walking through the botanical gardens that I’d wanted to visit since moving here. I looked from the glass sculpture to my date in wonder.
She gave me a beautiful smile, clearly happy that I was fi nding marvel in the various forms of cacti the gardens had to offer. Reaching out, she grabbed my hand to tug me to the next area. Holding hands and hugging was still all we were doing and as frustrating as that was, I loved the feel of her hand in mine. She was the only person I’d dated that didn’t insist on lacing fi ngers when holding hands. It always cut off circulation in my fi ngers when I did that.
“How many times have you been here?” I asked as she led me to a private spot with another beautiful view.
“I bring all my dates here. Don’t think you’re so special.”
That jealousy didn’t even enter my mind at her tease told me how perfect she was for me. “Oh, I’d never.”
“Got to keep you from getting a big head, you know.”
“Wouldn’t want that.”
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She tilted toward me, coming close enough that I could feel her breath on my face. I wanted to kiss her, but I was still holding out for her to kiss me. I could admit to some deliciousness in the wait. Like we were part of a soap opera storyline in the early eighties when the writers really knew how to drag out a couple getting together.
“Not when I want so many other things.” Her voice dropped an octave, packing the sentence with enough innuendo to drop me to my knees.
Ugphhfgh! Not exactly eloquent, but it’s been seven weeks of not getting any from the hot lady I was dating. Can you blame me for drooling at any hint of innuendo with her?
I nearly toppled forward as she leaned back, so intent on grabbing every morsel of what she had to say. She pretended not to notice that she’d completely gotten to me. For that reason alone, I’d want to jump her.
Her hand slipped into mine again as we continued our tour.
Thoughts raced as I tried to enjoy our surroundings. Allowing her to make the fi rst move was probably going to be the death of me.
For weeks I’d been getting to know her without letting anything physical get in the way. I knew where she’d grown up, her role in her family, the names of her college roommates, the best day of her life, and many other wonderful tidbits about this fascinating woman. She knew all of the same about me. For the fi rst time, not jumping into bed on the second or third date allowed me to really know whether or not I liked the person I was dating.
And I defi nitely liked this woman. Especially her creativity and wit. Dates were never ordinary with her.
“I was thinking I might let you plan our next date,” she told me as we made our way back to her car after seeing every inch of the gardens. My feet were aching, but it had been worth it.
“Let me? And what if I wasn’t planning on having another date?”
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Objection
She whipped around and grasped my face in her hands. “You want another date.”
“Cocky much?”
“Cocky a lot when it comes to you.” She stole a kiss on my cheek before dropping her hands.
“Aren’t you ever going to kiss me?” I blurted like a girl on her fi rst date.
She stared for a long moment before a grin turned the corners of her mouth upwards. “Oh yes.”
I waited. This was the moment I’d been waiting for since she said goodbye to me at the Greek restaurant. I’d expected her to kiss me goodnight then, but the warm hug was almost as nice. She wasn’t going to hug me now. No ma’am. I was fi nally going to be kissed but good. My toes would curl. The earth would move. Fireworks would go off. This was going to be a k-i-s-s if I had anything to do with it.
A full minute passed with nothing but the sight of her piercing eyes tantalizing me. No movement of her head, no promising words, no yanking of me toward her. She just stared, letting her words sink in.
“Like now?” I fi nally crumbled, practically begging her to kiss me. I’d never begged anyone to kiss me before. I was the kisser in my relationships. Former dates never knew when the fi rst kiss would happen. I’d turned that privilege over to her when I found out how much I liked her running the show at the Greek restaurant. I’d promised myself to wait her out.
“Like soon,” she told me.
My mouth popped open. I knew she wanted to kiss me. Her glances were fi lled with longing at the end of every date. I’d caught her staring at my mouth more than once. She defi nitely wanted to kiss me. I just couldn’t fi gure out what the hold up was.
“If you’re waiting for my permission, you have it.”
A soft laugh touched my face. “I’d be a lousy date if I had to 89
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ask for permission.”
“It’s the polite thing to do,” I retorted, perplexed by her lack of advantage taking. Those lips of hers were taunting me with words when they should be torturing me with kisses.
“Politeness has no business being part of a good kiss.”
How true. But dammit she was frustrating. Yummy lips should be on mine right now. “Suzanne.” I couldn’t decide if I should agree with her or order her to kiss me.
“I like hearing you say my name. It’s so much better than Judge.”
“I’ll be calling you nothing but Judge if you don’t start with the kissing right quick.” I meant that as a threat of torture not an ultimatum.
“I’ll be making you call my name over and over soon enough.”
I yanked her toward me, grasping both shoulders in my hands.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kiss you right now.”
She smiled, a slow widening of her beautiful non-kissing lips.
The tiny dimple over her right lip appeared. “Because you want to be kissed senseless by me. And you’re not going to ruin that want.”
All kidding aside, I should storm away out of sheer pride, but she was so right. For the fi rst time in my life, I wanted to feel what it was like to be kissed senseless by someone. Not that I’d never had great kisses before, but for a fi rst kiss, the one that would set the tone of the relationship, the one I’d remember even if the relationship broke apart, for this fi rst kiss, I wanted her to kiss me. Thoroughly, wantonly, fervently and with abandon. I needed that and after the lousy attempts at relationships I’d had, I think I deserved it.
“Don’t you want to start the senseless kissing now, though?”
“Very much,” she admitted, looking away for a moment.
“But I won’t.”
“Why?”
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She measured me with a paralyzing stare. “Beca
use I won’t stop at a kiss, Lindsay. When I kiss you, clothing will come off.
From the moment I fi rst teased you, I knew I could never stop at a kiss. So I’m not starting with a kiss until I’m certain that sex with you won’t be just sex.”
Thankfully she hadn’t kissed me or my mind would have processed that as, “Blah, blah, kiss, blah, kiss, blah, blah, kiss, sex, blah, sex.” My body hated that she was right, but her sweet words soothed my now panting lust.
“Got you with that one, didn’t I, darling?”
“Get in the car, smooth talker. You’re just lucky I’m not some hormone-crazed college student.”
She slid into the driver’s seat next to me and turned a sly grin my way. “We’ll defi nitely be exploring that role one night.”
Gulping after losing my breath, I asked, “Soon?”
“Very soon,” she promised and started the car.
91
NINE
The sting took place late Friday morning. City hall started buzzing the moment the police walked out of their corner of the building and into ours. Two offi cers strode up to Bobby Winchester, the mayor’s assistant marketing director, and placed him under arrest. The whole episode lasted thirty seconds, but people in the offi ce talked about it for the rest of the day.
I spent my afternoon trying to fi gure out a good way of spinning the debacle to make the mayor look good. The joint conference with the mayor and DA turned into a battle of egos for the ages. They convinced people to overlook the fact that our offi ce had been compromised by one greedy idiot. They even managed to push aside the judges’ wrongdoings in prior cases.
The focus was placed on the sting operation and how well it had played out. There was a reason the mayor paid me so well.
“Your friend is still an idiot.” Yoshi appeared at the end of the day and plopped into his usual chair. “I’m glad she spared me having to come up with a defense, but she’s still a moron for not having taken the plea in the fi rst place.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I told him.
“Did she really manage to pull off her part of this whole thing?”
“Apparently.” I clicked through the last of the emails for the day. I wanted to get home and get a good night’s sleep. Suzanne 92
Objection
had another adventure planned for tomorrow, and I wanted to be able to fully enjoy it.
“You weren’t there?”
“Nope. I explained what she’d be doing and left her to deal with Sam.”
“Sam,” Yoshi laughed. “He’ll end up with a promotion out of this. Doug better watch out for his job.”
I looked up to focus on him. “Wouldn’t that be a bonus?”
“All from your idiot friend. You must be so proud.”
I laughed with him. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve been released from the bonds of her friendship.”
“Not because of this?” He looked concerned.
“No, she fi nally fi gured out we have nothing in common, and the only reason she was still thinking of me as a friend was out of obligation.”
“Great day for you all around.” His hands patted together in a barely audible golf clap. “How’s it going with the judge?”
I shook my head. “The judge has a name, and she’s none of your business.”
“You’ll share. You want to share with me.”
“Hold your breath for that.” I shut down my laptop and started gathering up my briefcase.
“Cruel lady. What have you got going for the weekend? Want to come over for dinner at my parents on Sunday?”
I looked up, feeling my mouth begin to water. “You even have to ask? Your mom should open a sushi restaurant.”
“But then she’d hate cooking for us.”
“Good point. No restaurant for Mama Nakamura.”
We walked out through the now vacant offi ce together. The mayor had stopped by on the way out. A big thumbs up for my part in the whole scheme. I knew she’d be riding a high for a while. It didn’t seem to matter to her that one of her staff had been arrested in front of everyone. The mayor had selective amnesia.
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It helped in politics, but it could wear on you as an employee in charge of making that amnesia work to her benefi t.
A quiet relaxing dinner, maybe paint a bit, and turn in early.
Suzanne would be over fi rst thing. Something that would involve a bathing suit. I was looking forward to the day and seeing her in that suit.
The doorbell rang when I was halfway through fi nishing my latest painting. Looking down at my comfy cotton pants and U
of A t-shirt, I wasn’t dressed to answer the door. It didn’t stop whoever it was from ringing the doorbell again, though.
My breath caught when I saw Suzanne on the porch. In jeans and a U of Penn t-shirt, she’d never looked sexier.
“You look pretty hot.” Her eyes roamed my body, fl aring when they reached mine.
“Hello to you, too,” I greeted, gesturing her inside. “Out for a walk?”
She looked around my living room, taking particular note of my deep and very comfy couch. It was always my fi rst stop after getting home. “Nice place.”
As many times as I’d offered to have her come inside before or after a date, I tried not to be shocked that she’d just waltzed inside this time. “Thanks.”
She swiveled all the way back to me. “Good day today.”
“So I heard. I’d congratulate you, but I imagine the repercussions on the bench won’t be easy to deal with.”
She nodded then stepped toward me. “It was hard watching what happened. I spent part of the day reviewing their recent cases. They were good jurists.”
“Greed can be powerful.”
“I’m just glad that the cases I reviewed can’t be overturned.
At least they did their jobs right for the most part.”
“Can I make you something to eat?” I could see the day had taken a lot out of her. I’d seen the video of her meeting 94
Objection
with Bobby. She led the guy right up to the guillotine, asking questions that got him to admit to paying off all four judges without entrapping him. She’d be a master undercover offi cer at any police department.
“No thanks.” She fl ashed a brief smile. “I really just wanted to see you.”
“And you couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” I teased, trying not to let her see how tickled that made me.
“Didn’t want to.” She moved toward me with a determined fi re in her eyes.
This was it. She was going to kiss me and according to her, make love with me. It didn’t seem to matter that I was wearing my laundry day wardrobe or that I didn’t have any makeup on anymore or that I’d brushed most of the mousse out of my hair.
This sexy lady with her yummy lips, swept back hair, and casual clothes was fi nally going to kiss me. The long awaited episode of my very own soap opera was fi nally going to air.
Her hand reached out, fi ngers sliding around to cup my neck and bring me against her. I noticed so many things at once. She smelled like jasmine. Heat came off her in waves. The pulse in her throat sped up. Her pupils dilated and pink tinged her cheeks.
It helped to concentrate on these things when my heart threatened to make a leap for it, my balance seemed to leave me behind, and my focus was stolen by her lips.
“This is going to be good,” she whispered before leaning down and taking my mouth.
Pulling softly at fi rst, teasing me with the promise of more, her mouth opened to caress mine. A slow dance of lips before a fl eeting touch of tongue had my mind spinning. I wasn’t thinking about moving my head one way or my lips another. I wasn’t thinking about how good this felt or what our next move would be. I wasn’t thinking period. I was feeling. She’d really done it.
Kissed me senseless. Damn, it felt good.
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When she fi nished, and I was under no illusio
n that I was doing the kissing this fi rst time, she pulled back to stare into my eyes. “That was worth the wait, Lindsay.”
“You said it, Suzanne.”
Her head tipped once toward the hallway on the other side of the living room. “You have too many clothes on.”
“Speak for yourself.”
She laughed, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “This is going to be fun.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. Grabbing her hand, I led her to the bedroom where the only thing that could top our fi rst kiss awaited us. Yes, indeed, this was going to be fun.
96
Epilogues
M’s Epilogue
“Have you decided on anything, ma’am?” the tentative salesperson asked.
I probably should have been friendlier when I came in or when she asked me what I was looking for or if I wanted to try them on. Briony always warned me that I could come across as intimidating. Deceptively intimidating, she’d told me once. The deceptive part, she said, was due to my short stature.
“No one expects a shrimp to be intimidating,” she’d said as I’d pinned her onto her back on my bed. I’d made her pay for that comment. She’d called me other names that night, too. Two hours of not letting her use her hands while I could do anything to her gave her plenty of time to come up with other names. But I knew she liked being taller than me. I never gave it much thought, but I was glad it made her so happy.
“Perhaps I could tell you a little about each?” the saleswoman persisted.
“No,” I replied then thought of Briony and added, “Thank you.”
“Nothing catches your eye then?”
“I,” I started, but the words tumbling around in my brain couldn’t seem to make it out. Why did I always get like this?
Talking in front of my classes, that was a breeze, but having a conversation with a stranger made it so I couldn’t form enough 98
Blessed Twice
words to make a sentence. “If I could…” What? What was I trying to say to this poor woman who just wanted to do her job?