by Lilli Feisty
“Yes, and I’m freezing in this damn fog. Let me in!”
Ruby buzzed her in, and a second later Claire was crushing her in a bear hug. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“You too!” Ruby said, pulling Claire even tighter. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
After a few minutes they pulled apart. Ruby eyed her sister’s small bag. “Where’s the rest of your luggage?”
“You’re looking at it.”
“God, I couldn’t even fit a weekend’s worth of shoes in that thing.”
“I guess that’s the one thing I learned from Mom. Remember what she always said?”
“If you don’t use it every day, don’t bring it!” They finished the last part together and burst into laughter.
Smiling, Ruby stood back and gave her sister the once-over. Designer jeans enclosed Claire’s long, supermodel legs, and she wore a T-shirt with lots of sparkles. She was much taller than Ruby, but her four-inch brown boots added even more height, and Ruby had to tilt her head back just to make eye contact. The only physical characteristic the sisters shared was their blue eyes.
Ruby touched a lock of Claire’s hair. “You have highlights.”
“You can never be too blonde in Hollywood,” she said.
Ruby laughed, smoothed back her ponytail. “Which is why I choose to live here in San Francisco, where anything goes.”
“Well, San Francisco really is the best place to be an individual, I’ll give you that.”
Ruby lifted Claire’s suitcase and walked to her bedroom, where she dropped it on the bed. “Make yourself at home. You want anything? Coffee? A glass of wine?”
Claire glanced at her watch. “It’s almost five. How about some wine?”
“Sounds good. You freshen up, I’ll go open a bottle. Meet you in the living room.”
Ruby went about getting out the chardonnay and glasses. All week her house had seemed extra quiet, extra dead. Just her sister’s presence cheered her up immensely.
In the living room, the sisters sat on the sofa facing each other, resting their backs against the arms of the couch.
“Cheers,” Ruby said, holding up her glass.
“Cheers!”
“How’s L.A., anyway? Any roles lately?” Ruby asked.
Claire shrugged. “Not really. But I tried out for a part in an indie film that could be awesome. It pays shit, but it would be great name recognition.” Her eyes started twinkling. “Enough of that. What I really want to know is what’s up with you and Mark St. Crow.”
Ruby shrugged “Nothing’s up. I haven’t talked with him since last Saturday.”
Just then Ruby’s cell vibrated on the coffee table. Claire had never been known to respect her sister’s privacy, and she set down her glass of wine to pick up the phone. “Oh, look! A text message. From Rufus.” She looked up with one quirked brow. “Rufus, huh? It says, ‘In Munich. Miss you.’ ”
“It does?” Her heart leaped. This was the first communication she’d had from Mark since he’d left.
“Rufus wants to know if you want to come to Germany. On him.” Claire glanced up. “Come on him in Germany? Hell yeah, you do.” She started typing.
“What?” Ruby set her glass on the coffee table and lunged for her sister.
But Claire had always been the more agile of the two, and she managed to avoid Ruby’s grabbing hands.
“Rufus wants to know why you won’t talk to him.”
“Claire! Stop it right now!”
“If you don’t tell me who Rufus is, I’m going to start having text-message sex on your behalf.”
“You little… !” She rolled Claire onto the ground, but her sister just sat on top of her, pinning her to the floor with her freakishly long legs.
“Oh my God! Rufus wants to know what kind of panties you’re wearing!”
Ruby’s face burned, and she glared up at her sister.
Claire talked as she typed. “Rufus, if that is your real name, this is Claire, Ruby’s sister. Who are you?”
“I’m going to kill you,” Ruby said, through clenched teeth.
“I’m shaking in my boots.” Then a laugh burst out of Claire’s throat. “I’m talking to Mark St. Crow!” she exclaimed, her eyes on the phone’s screen. “Oh my God! Too cool. Love your code name, by the way. Rufus. Ha!”
“Seriously. Put the phone down. Now.” Ruby hadn’t been able to totally delete Mark’s number from her cell phone, but she’d changed his name to Rufus. In some kind of strange attempt to forget him.
“In a minute.” Claire typed some more. “Are you boinking my sister?” she asked the phone.
“Claire!”
Her evil sister gave her an innocent smile. “What? If you’re not gonna give me any details, I’m going straight to the source.”
Ruby reached up and grabbed her sister’s hand, twisting her wrist until Claire screamed and jumped off her. “What the fuck? That hurt!”
“Good.” Ruby picked up the phone Claire had dropped and turned it off. “You know I fight dirty.”
“What’s the big deal, anyway?” she asked, massaging her wrist.
Panting, Ruby pushed herself to her feet. “I’m in love with him. Are you happy now? I’m in love with Mark St. Crow!”
“You don’t want to talk with him because you’re in love with him? Okay. That totally makes sense. Not.”
“Listen. You know how hard it is for me to say good-bye. With him, I’d be doing it all the time. He’s totally unreliable. I can’t live that way.”
“Right. You’re looking for Mr. Perfect.”
“Not anymore. I’ve realized there is no such thing. But that doesn’t mean I have to settle, does it?”
“Most people wouldn’t consider Mark St. Crow settling material.”
“Most people couldn’t handle the lifestyle he leads. I mean, come on, Claire. Can you see me waiting for him to come home from tour? From parties and shows all over the world?” She shook her head. “And I refuse to give up my life to follow him. I refuse to…”
“Be like Mom?” Claire asked softly. She felt Claire’s gaze on her for a second before her sister asked, “But does he make you happy?”
Ruby dropped back onto the sofa. “On occasion.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a look. “On occasion?”
“Yeah, when he’s not blowing me off or running away to some interview or jetting off on a last-minute tour, yeah. He makes me happy.”
“So, when he’s not living his life, things are good.” She picked up her glass.
“It sounds so lame when you put it that way,” Ruby said, shaking her head.
“I just think you have something with Rufus. I don’t want to see you throw it away because you’re scared. Now, I’m gonna go slip into something more comfortable, like my pajamas.” She sauntered off toward the bedroom.
Ruby stared after her, her pulse racing. Claire was right. She was so afraid of taking a chance with Mark, but was this any better? Why did it feel like not trying to make something work with Mark was the bigger risk?
A loud scream snapped her attention back and she ran to the bedroom. “Claire? What’s wrong?” Her heart thudded in her ears; it was too much like her dream.
But when she got to her room, she saw it wasn’t a dream. This was Ruby’s own personal nightmare.
Claire had Ruby’s black bag of toys on her bed.
“Oh my God!” Ruby ran over and tried to pull the bag away from her sister.
“I don’t think so,” Claire said, holding on to a nylon strap. She pulled out the leather cuffs and then the flogger. “Wow. So my big sister is a total perv!”
Ruby’s face burned with shame. “Claire, I can explain.”
Claire kept going. A paddle, left by Mark, was next. “You know, there are rumors of Mark being into this kind of shit, but I never, not in a million years, would have thought my own sister was so dirty.” She pulled out the blue butt plug. Luckily, Ruby had put it through the
dishwasher before she stashed the thing.
Ruby collapsed on the bed and dropped her face into her hands. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’m so sorry. You must be disgusted by me.”
Claire just shook her head. “I… I don’t know what to think. I think I’m in shock.”
Ruby’s gaze landed on the remote-controlled vibrator. “So am I. I never thought I’d like… this.”
“But you do?” Claire asked.
Ruby rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “Yeah. I think so.”
Claire’s gaze softened. “Listen. This is a—” She stopped and laughed wryly. “A big surprise. But it’s not like I’m going to disown you. It’s not like, say, you’re a Republican or something.”
“It’s just that you always say I’m your role model. What kind of role model likes to be tied up and spanked?” She flung herself back on the bed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh God! I can’t believe I just said that! To my sister!”
She felt the bed dip and then Claire’s hand on her own. “Okay, that was TMI. But Ruby, as long as you’re happy, it’s okay. Frankly, I’m kind of glad I discovered this little secret of yours.”
Ruby opened her eyes and met Claire’s gaze. “What? Why?”
Her sister shrugged. “I dunno. It makes you more real somehow. Less perfect.”
“Oh, honey. I am anything but perfect.”
“I’m glad you’re starting to realize it,” Claire teased. “Anyway, have you always been so kinky? Or did Mark turn you on to the dark side?”
Ruby thought about it a few seconds. “I guess I always was, but he’s the one who really showed me it was part of who I am.”
“That’s cool. I’m glad you’re able to accept it about yourself, sis.”
“You know what?” Ruby asked, staring vacantly at the toys around her. “I don’t think I had. Until now.”
“You’re welcome. Now, let’s recap. You’re pervy; Mark’s pervy. You love him; he’s obviously interested in you. So tell me, sis, what’s the problem again?”
Ruby opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. She had no answer.
* * *
Ruby had hired a taxi to take her sister to the airport and on Sunday morning they pulled up to the curb at the terminal. “I’m not going to cry,” Ruby said.
“Neither am I.” But there were tears spilling out of both women’s eyes.
“Give me a hug.” Ruby pulled her sister into her arms and held her tightly. “I’ll miss you.”
“You too.”
“Bye, Claire Bear.”
Claire pulled back, looking surprised. “You said good-bye.”
Ruby started. “So?”
“Yeah. You haven’t said good-bye to me since… well, you’ve never done it. Usually you just say, ‘See you next Christmas’ or something.”
“I don’t know, I guess it just came out.” Good-bye is not forever, just a fleck of time. The words of Mark’s song hummed their way into her brain.
Claire stared at her for a silent moment. “You know, you’ve changed since I saw you last.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. You seem less edgy, more comfortable.” Claire chucked her on the shoulder. “Maybe it’s all that kinky shit.”
“Stop. Go or you’ll be late.”
“Okay. Bye, sis.”
“Good-bye, Claire.” She watched until the sliding doors of the airport terminal closed behind her sister. After, Ruby did what most women did when faced with a case of the blues. She went shopping. By noon she found herself in retail heaven, San Francisco’s Union Square. But she preferred the smaller shops over the department stores, so she made her way to her favorite side street, Maiden Lane.
Maiden Lane was a cobblestoned pedestrian alley lined with eclectic boutiques, high-end salons, and restaurants. Not many tourists ventured down the narrow passage, and locals often enjoyed a cup of coffee or a glass of wine at one of the outdoor cafés.
As she meandered down the alley her gaze landed on a couple sipping wine. The man looked strikingly like Emmett, but it couldn’t be him. This man was sitting much too close to his blonde companion and rubbing her hand in an obviously intimate way.
But it really looked like Emmett. He was even wearing red high-tops, which was Emmett’s signature shoe.
But it couldn’t be him. Could it?
Strolling on the opposite side of the street, she tried to remain inconspicuous, but it didn’t matter. The couple was totally oblivious to everything going on around them. And then the woman took him by the collar, tugged him across the table, and kissed him.
A significant amount of time later, she released him. Grinning, the man leaned back in his chair. His face was now totally in Ruby’s view, and it was like a blow to the chest.
It was Emmett. Ruby forced herself to keep walking. She couldn’t confront him because she wanted to strangle him.
How could he do this to Meg?
Meg was happy; she’d told Ruby that things with Emmett were back on track. Perfect.
Her heart pounded behind her ears as she marched back to Market Street. How could he cheat like this, in broad daylight? Well, the bastard thought he’d never be seen on Maiden Lane, obviously. And it was just a fluke that Ruby had happened to be wandering by; she hadn’t been downtown in months.
But she had seen him. And now she fought the desire to run back there and slap him across the face.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. It wasn’t her place to confront Emmett. It would only make things worse. Her heart ached for her best friend; Meg’s world was about to come crashing down around her.
Oh, how she wished she didn’t have to tell Meg. But how could she not? Was she going to go to parties with the happy couple and pretend she didn’t know Emmett was fucking some blonde behind Meg’s back?
Ruby knew she had to say something. She could never live with herself if she kept this information inside. Meg needed to know her husband was having an affair.
On Powell Street, tears pricked at Ruby’s eyes. All the buses that went downtown did so via an underground route, and now as Ruby descended the stairs beneath Powell and Market, the crowded subterranean station closed in on her, making it hard to breathe.
Trembling, she waited on the edge of the platform for the bus to arrive. Soon a warm, artificial breeze blew her hair softly into her face, heralding the arrival of the N Judah line. She squeezed her way inside the bus, miraculously finding a seat at the very back.
Oddly, the scene she’d just witnessed made her want to see Mark even more. She realized she’d been searching for some stupid idea of what she wanted, but it was a fantasy. Emmett had just proved that. Life was unstable, no doubt about it. Perfection happened only on television. And Mark was right, the only time she’d even come close to achieving a sublime state was in his arms, when she gave herself to him, mind, body, and soul.
That was where she needed to be looking for perfection.
And yeah, being kinky was part of who she was. Hell, even Claire had accepted that about her. There was nothing left to be afraid of. Except, she realized, never seeing Mark again.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
The limo dropped her off in front of the Four Seasons in Budapest.
Ruby didn’t even know what day it was. When she’d gotten home from shopping she’d discovered a one-way ticket to Hungary that had been slipped under her door, compliments of Mark. It was a lucky coincidence because she’d already planned on tracking him down. She wanted to hear for herself why he’d blown off the preparty, decide for herself if she could live with his behavior. She needed to hear him explain; she needed to take this chance.
So, here she was. They hadn’t talked; she barely had time to toss a few things into a bag before rushing to the airport, where she’d had to make a mad dash to her gate. But she’d made the flight, just in time. Mark had sprung for a first-class seat, so she’d even been able to sleep a bit. There had been a driver
waiting for her when she landed, and now, not even twenty-four hours after she’d arrived home to find the ticket, she entered the Four Seasons of Budapest, a little tired but jazzed up. In a few moments, she was going to see Mark.
She shouldn’t be nervous; he’d been the one to send her the ticket. He knew she was here. So why were her palms sweaty? Why was her stomach twisting and turning? Why the hell should she be nervous to see a man who knew her far better than anyone else?
With a deep breath she willed her nerves to calm down. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she crossed the lobby, and behind the reception desk, a scrawny man with a bad comb-over watched her approach.
“Do you speak English?” she asked hopefully. She hadn’t had time to buy a Hungarian phrase book.
“A little,” he said, and Ruby saw that he had kind eyes.
“Thank you! I’m looking for Mark St. Crow, please. Can you tell me what room he’s in?”
The man looked regretful. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We have no registered guest under that name.”
“But you didn’t even look it up.”
“Because I know we have no registered guest under that name.”
Of course Mark wouldn’t be registered under his own name. But how had he planned on her finding him? He hadn’t left any instructions for when she arrived.
“You are welcome to wait in our lounge, ma’am. Just in case,” the man said, waving to the side. Her gaze followed in the direction he pointed and landed on a dark-wood bar area, behind which dozens of liquor bottles sat on backlit shelves.
“Thank you,” she said. A cocktail suddenly sounded wonderful. She needed something to help calm the unease that had been churning a rancid knot in her gut since yesterday.
She’d tried Meg once again after arriving home, but her friend still hadn’t answered. Now, lack of sleep, a long travel day, and knowing she still had to talk to Meg about Emmett were making that knot in her stomach twist even tighter.
“A chocolate martini, please.” She settled onto a wooden stool and dug her cell phone out of her bag. She tried calling Mark, but it went straight to voice mail. Ignoring the nerves having a boxing match in her belly, she arranged her phone on the shiny wooden counter, where she could see it.