Just A Little Romance

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Just A Little Romance Page 9

by Mary Jane Russell


  “Get ready,” Sam said to Paul as Lisa came their way.

  “Can I give you a ride to the women’s shelter?” Lisa stopped at the end of the table and kept her eyes on Haley.

  “You have it all wrong,” Haley began.

  “You don’t have to explain anything.” Lisa held up her phone. “I can call 911 and tell them what I’ve seen.”

  “You really have it all wrong,” Haley tried again.

  “Honestly,” Paul said, “Sam would not harm anyone. I can vouch for her.”

  Lisa was unconvinced. “I don’t know which is worse—the women who are the abusers, the women who accept being victims, or the bystanders who do nothing.”

  “How about assholes who make crazy assumptions?” Sam asked. “You have all three of us pegged incorrectly. Let me buy you a drink. We can all talk.”

  “I don’t think so. I know who my friends are. I had to at least offer.” Lisa turned and left the booth.

  Scott took her place at the end of the table. “I’ll be pushing off, as well. I promised to be home for an early dinner.” He bobbed his head to each of them.

  Paul stared in disbelief as Scott walked out. “I’ll call you later,” he said to Sam as he threw cash on the table and followed Scott out of the building.

  Sam looked at Haley. “Do I know how to clear a table or what?”

  Haley chuckled. “I’m in no hurry.” She drank her Guinness. “Do you believe that guy?”

  “Scott?”

  Haley nodded. “How can Paul be right on target about KD and me yet so oblivious to how bad his own relationship is?”

  Sam nodded. “So are you saying I’m better off single and to be careful what I wish for?”

  Haley actually giggled. “Well, you won’t be hooking up with her any time in the near future.” She looked at Lisa.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Sam relied on one of her favorite axioms when all other logic failed.

  “I know that’s right,” Haley countered.

  Sam bumped Haley’s shoulder with hers and watched as the college football season began. Maybe the craziness would disappear as the summer heat faded.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sam couldn’t concentrate. It was that simple. She stared across her desk and forced herself not to let her gaze linger on the cleavage showing in the deep v-neck of the woman’s sweater. Of course, that meant Sam looked into incredibly blue eyes that seemed to twinkle with knowing Sam’s dilemma and enjoying it, or Sam could watch the full, red lips that seemed better suited to deep kisses than long words.

  Sam looked out of the window. Her car…think about her car—settling into the soft leather seat, gripping the steering wheel, and reaching over to the firm thigh of an attractive blonde.

  “I’m sorry. Have I taken up too much of your time?” Olivia Holland glanced at her Rolex. “I do tend to talk too much about what I’m passionate about at the moment—my new business.” Olivia leaned forward, gathering the financials and business plan she had been explaining, while revealing a lacy black bra beneath the sweater.

  Tambor choked out a cough from her cubicle.

  Oh, God, Sam thought, am I so obvious that even Tambor has picked up on my lack of concentration without being in the room with us?

  “Not at all,” Sam said. “I’m sorry. I’ve a bit of a headache.” She closed her eyes. “I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.”

  Sam was disappointed to see Olivia returning her papers to her briefcase.

  “And here it is, almost five o’clock, and I’ve kept you to myself all this time without benefit of an appointment,” Olivia said. She clucked her tongue.

  Judge Holland had walked into the business incubator unannounced a little after 3:00. Sam had only half listened to Tambor explaining the services provided by the incubator, stuttering through the expectation that aforementioned services were to be scheduled in advance. Tambor was usually excellent at screening potential clients and keeping Sam on schedule. Sam finally recognized the name. Tambor had also crossed paths with the judge in her official capacity. Truth be told, Sam’s calendar was open and she was about to leave for the day, trading hours with several late evenings from the previous week. Tambor knew that Sam was tired from more than work, even though Sam had discussed Haley’s situation with no one but Paul and Ava.

  Sam had finally felt foolish hiding in the corner of her office and decided to breeze through the reception area as though late for an off-site meeting. As soon as she cleared her office door and took one look at Olivia Holland, Sam was lost. It was as though the best of all Sam’s exes was rolled into one extremely attractive woman.

  Olivia was dressed in the most expensive clothes available off the rack in metropolitan Richmond. Her frosted blond hair and muted makeup was perfectly coordinated with the deep royal blue cashmere sweater; her shoes matched the gray lightweight wool of her pencil skirt. Olivia had runner’s legs and a torso shaped with careful use of weights to tone but not add bulk. Her face was delicate yet strong, her presence commanding. It wasn’t often that Sam was overwhelmed by such genuine charm.

  Sam had no idea what Olivia was pitching for a business. She only knew that Olivia’s ideas were the most important matters that could possibly cross her desk.

  Tambor had not appreciated her careful work toward bringing Judge Holland in another day being cast aside. She frowned at her boss and threw up her hands when Sam invited Olivia into her office and asked Tambor to hold her calls.

  Sam quickly learned that Olivia Holland was a retired judge and a force to be reckoned with in family law. Olivia had exercised her retirement and waited the required months before going back to work to avoid conflict of interest accusations. She had decided to start her own small practice focusing on guardianship cases—the easiest as far as carrying private insurance. It was no frivolous business to be a champion for the underage or infirm. Sam was amazed at how much demand the court systems in the counties neighboring the state capital had for an impartial attorney who knew the system. Sam knew that she wasn’t the only one to surrender to anything Olivia suggested and guessed that the woman’s intelligence combined with her charisma would keep Olivia on as many cases as she chose to accept. Her business plan was to bring in associates in the third year of practice if her caseload projections were accurate.

  “No wonder you have a headache if you skipped lunch. I passed one of my favorite Mexican restaurants on the way into the industrial park. I insist on buying your dinner in exchange for taking up so much of your time. My plans might make a little more sense with the addition of alcohol.” Olivia stood and gestured to the door. “I’ll drive us and bring you back.” She was clearly a woman used to having her own way.

  As Sam passed through the reception area, she noticed Kelly seated on the corner of Tambor’s desk.

  “A word before you leave, boss.” Kelly stood, hands on hips, her uniform sharply creased as usual.

  “Excuse me,” Sam said.

  “I’ll start my motor so the car will warm up. You won’t have to bother with a jacket,” Olivia said. September had come in as though skipping any transition from summer, sending everyone scrambling for warmer clothing. “Ladies.” She nodded to the other women as she left the building, maintaining eye contact with Tambor to prove her point about who was in control.

  Sam’s eyes stayed on Olivia as she walked out the main entrance.

  Kelly snapped her fingers. “Don’t do it.”

  “What?” Sam turned and looked at Kelly, frowning.

  “You have to trust me on this one, Sam. I’ve heard stories from some very reliable mutual acquaintances. Don’t go to dinner with any expectations but food.” Kelly did her best to sound impartial and not like a sometime lover.

  “Jealous that she didn’t pick you up?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, right. Crap. You’re not going to hear a damn thing I say about her, are you? I’m trying to give you a friendly warning. She’s been through the available singles here in Richmond and
quite a few others—just enough casual flirting to break up several couples. She’s a strange duck.” Kelly struggled with her warning. It went against her judgment to repeat what she hadn’t experienced for herself.

  Tambor didn’t break her gaze from the woman in the parking lot. “She took my sister’s children away from her, put them into the system rather than let me have them while Nene served her time. Bitch told me she was doing me and them a favor, that I’d never handle three more children than what I was already used to as a single mother.” Tambor seldom spoke of her sister.

  “Uh-huh. See you guys in the morning. I may be a little late. Do me a favor and get a life so you can quit trying to be mothers to me.” Sam followed a wonderful scent. Why was it that perfume smelled so delicious on other women and fizzled out on her skin? Sam smiled. She wouldn’t mind breathing in Olivia Holland’s aroma for a few hours.

  “You’re going to be sorry,” Kelly said as Sam left the building. Sam glanced back. Kelly made a circular motion with her index finger pointed to her temple.

  Sam fought the urge to extend her middle finger at Kelly. She didn’t want to appear crude since Olivia sat watching her from the parking lot.

  Sam whistled appreciatively at the silver blue BMW roadster that purred like a throaty kitten. Sam slid into the low car, not feeling the least awkward about her height. She felt as though surrendering all control. Surprisingly, Sam liked the feeling.

  “First of all, my friends call me Liv.” Olivia glanced into her mirrors and placed her hand on the headrest of Sam’s seat as she backed out of the parking space. “Secondly, how have we not met before?”

  Sam hadn’t felt this tongue-tied since a teenager. “Isn’t it amazing how we can work and socialize in concentric circles until some change in our pattern tilts the orbit of our world?”

  Liv glanced at Sam. “I’d rather rock your world.” She drove with one hand and let the other rest on Sam’s leg. She ran her hand slowly up and down Sam’s thigh. “I love it when my timing is right.”

  Sam actually blushed or had a small hot flash, she wasn’t sure which. By the time they traveled the three miles to the restaurant, Sam was glad to be back in a public place. She was too ready to give in to impulses she knew better than to indulge so quickly. She knew too little about Olivia—damn Kelly and Tambor, Sam thought.

  They were greeted at the restaurant by the concierge opening the door for them. “Judge Holland.” He bowed slightly to Liv, then looked at Sam and smiled knowingly. “Ma’am.”

  Sam was not used to such immediate seating. They were strategically side by side at a small table in the restaurant’s quietest corner, farthest away from the kitchen and the main entrance. The lighting in the restaurant was low enough to make it hard to distinguish faces two tables away.

  “Their strawberry margaritas are excellent,” Liv said, “as long as you don’t mind a quick buzz.”

  Sam nodded. “That’s sort of what I had in mind.”

  Two drinks appeared on the table. Liv spoke to the waitress in fluent Spanish. “May I order for us?”

  Sam nodded again. Why not just let go for a few hours, she reasoned. She glanced around the table. “You didn’t bring your business plan in.”

  Liv shook her head. “Business is for daylight hours. Now is the time to relax and let go of work.”

  Sam raised her drink to toast the sentiment.

  Liv smiled across the table. “How old do you think I am?”

  Sam blinked upon hearing her inner uh-oh. “Your application to the incubator stated fifty-eight.”

  Liv chuckled. “So you did read the paperwork.”

  Sam blushed. “Some of it. My comprehension wasn’t at its usual level.” Sam admittedly had done a quick subtraction early into the meeting—a woman fifteen years older was a bit of a stretch for her, but she wasn’t the age snob that Paul accused her of being.

  Liv leaned forward. “I lied. I’m sixty-three. I embraced plastic surgery years ago. I just went on Social Security, as well as my pension, but I still have one more career left in me.” She signaled the waitress for another round of drinks.

  Sam thought of Kelly’s warning. Twenty years difference did bother her. But it shouldn’t, she told herself. Liv would be a good experience for her. “The older the violin, the sweeter the music.”

  “I’ve made sure that all my strings are nice and tight,” Liv said. She growled softly. “I love the term cougar.”

  Sam stared at the plates of food set before them. She felt like a menu item. Why was the alarm sounding louder in her head? She hated when she did this.

  The food was excellent, the conversation a mixture of Liv’s war stories and innuendo that kept Sam flustered. As they left the restaurant, Sam was glad she wasn’t driving.

  Liv came to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for Sam, then stood blocking her way into the roadster. She pulled Sam against her, kissing her.

  Sam automatically parted her lips and waited for the soft probing of a tongue that usually set her on fire. Liv’s lips remained tight together. Sam tried with no luck to explore with her tongue and opened her eyes.

  “You’re doing it all wrong, dear. Just relax and keep your mouth closed,” Liv whispered into Sam’s ear, sending chills down her back.

  Sam’s mind balked—those directions didn’t jibe with her libido.

  Liv moved in for a second kiss, again with closed lips.

  Sam couldn’t help her reaction—she drew away.

  “You’re doing it all wrong if you want to get anywhere with me.” Liv leaned against her car and looked at Sam as though disappointed.

  Sam took a step back from the car. “Excuse me.”

  Liv pointed to her lips. “I can’t stand anything in my mouth. Let me show you.”

  Sam experienced her first closed-mouth kiss since her age was in single digits. “That does it for you?”

  Liv sighed. “Oh, yes, just a brushing of lips—no teeth, no tongue, no invasiveness.”

  Sam stared. Speculation about what else this woman preferred overwhelmed her. Her words tumbled out. “I might as well be kissing my mother.”

  Olivia snapped straight up. Her eyes flared with anger. “How dare you? Just what are you implying?”

  Sam took several steps away from the car, telling herself not to run screaming into the night. “I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words.”

  Liv slammed the passenger door closed and walked around her car. She slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll expect a call from your secretary when my application is approved for my office space by your board. I’ll also expect you to conduct yourself professionally at all times.” The car roared to life and spun out of the parking lot.

  Sam patted her pocket. Thank goodness she had presence of mind enough to have her cell phone with her. She called the night number at the incubator. “Don’t say a word. Just please find my car keys on my desk and come get me.”

  Kelly was laughing as she hung up.

  Sam stared at the cars in the parking lot. “I’m so fucked and didn’t even enjoy a decent kiss.” She hadn’t noticed the couple leaving the restaurant as she spoke.

  “Been there, done that,” the man said as his date surrendered to giggles.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sam felt silly, but she knew that she looked damn good. She had worn the teal strapless empire gown only twice before and been overwhelmed by the compliments. She made one final adjustment to the rubber gripper inside the top of the bodice as she left her house. She never completely trusted dresses with built-in cups and no shoulder straps, yet the corset actually made her back feel great. She left her door unlocked and key ring in the bowl on the table with her briefcase. She picked her way across the damp grass and shivered with the cool evening air on her bare skin. She forgot from one fall to the next how quickly the temperature dropped once the sun went down in September. She tapped on Ava’s door.

  Ava opened the door looking as elegant as a 1940s mov
ie star.

  Sam whistled, then put her hand to her mouth. “I guess that’s not very ladylike.”

  Ava waved her inside. “Well, we’ve given up on that by now, haven’t we?”

  Sam chuckled. “I didn’t have much ambition that way to begin with.”

  “I’m not talking sex, dear.” Ava closed the door. She swept by Sam with a flourish of the A-line skirt made with deep side pleats. The hem of her two-toned blue silk dinner dress was purposely longer in the back than front. Ava’s shoes were a floral design, with blues matching the dress dominant, the likes of which had not been sold in department stores since the 1960s.

  “Darn. I thought you might be able to give me a few pointers.” Sam snapped her fingers.

  “I only slept with a woman once. It was so long ago I don’t remember much about it except that feeling another woman’s breasts against mine made me giggle.” Ava motioned Sam to the couch facing the door.

  Sam stared. “Ava, you never cease to amaze me.”

  “You just have to take the time to know people, dear. Few are what they first appear.” Ava handed Sam a small glass. “Aperitif?”

  “Bless you,” Sam said as though Ava had sneezed.

  “Samantha.” Ava sighed.

  “Sorry. I’m still thinking about breasts. You owe me the rest of that story sometime.” Sam took a deep breath. She tasted the wine. “Oh, my, that’s delicious.”

  “Viognier—can you taste the smoke and peach?” Ava sipped her drink. “It’s always been one of my favorites.” She gestured to the tray on the coffee table. “Imported cheeses, fresh apricots, and shrimp with a light Asian sauce.”

  Sam shook her head. “I feel underdressed for such a meal if this is just the hors d’oeuvres.”

  Ava chuckled and patted Sam’s leg. “You’re gracious beyond belief to humor an old woman by dressing in your finest after working all day and trusting my dubious culinary skills. I haven’t assembled a formal dinner since Max passed.” Her face clouded.

 

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