“Clay,” she said, wiping her dusty hands on a cloth she kept under the desk. “It’s stopped raining, so I’m going to take a little walk down to Starbucks. Do you want anything with your Frap? A muffin or something?” She tried uselessly to brush some of the dust off her grimy skirt as she waited for him to answer. Clay looked up from where he’d been devouring the adventures of Pearl, and set down the highlighter for a moment to think.
“No, I’m watching my girlish figure,” he said, and puffed out his washboard abs until he looked like he a paunch. “The Grande Frap should be enough to give me a sugar high. But you should buy some condoms while you’re out. You need to be prepared.” He pointed the highlighter at her.
Jess laughed, shaking her head as she headed for the door. She shrugged on her jean jacket and called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a half hour. I’m taking that book out of your salary, by the way.”
“Oooh. Fifty cents. It’ll be worth it if we can finally get you laid, missy.”
Jessie was still smiling when she reached the street. She knew exactly how lucky she was to have Clay. Not only was he fun to have around, he also knew more about running a business than she did. They’d been close friends since being paired together as lab partners in an introductory psych class eight years ago, and Jessie had thought of him immediately when she’d decided to open the shop. She’d lured him away from his management position at one of the overpriced clothing boutiques on Robson by matching his salary, and promising to never make him work weekends or after 10 PM. He’d enthusiastically agreed and they’d formed a partnership of sorts.
West Hastings was crowded, as usual. Jessie found herself scanning the crowd for one particular blond head, but there wasn’t any sign of Theresa. Jessie hated to think of her wandering around, alone on the streets, and wondered what would make Theresa choose to live that way. Many of the street kids were there because they were alone, or escaping a situation that was unbearable. But if the detective was looking for Theresa, obviously someone cared what happened to her. Hopefully, Jessie thought, Theresa will come back to the store soon, and the Detective can get her back where she belongs.
It was still overcast, but the sun filtered through weakly, hinting at a real appearance later that day. When the weather was good like this the residents of downtown milled about, crossing the street in herds and gathering to chat in crowds of two and three. Hot dog vendors on the corners filled the air with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking meat and Jessie felt her stomach rumble in response. She hadn’t eaten since her bagel with Jamie that morning.
Jessie ducked into the corner coffee shop and ordered herself a mocha and a giant chocolate chip muffin. She wanted to sit down outside and people watch for a few minutes before getting Clay’s Frappucino. She needed to relax and think about what had happened this morning. Reaching into the pocket of her skirt for some change, she felt the smooth edges of the detective’s card against her fingers. She took it out and looked at it while waiting for her order. It would be so easy to finish what they’d started that morning. Just one phone call, and she could stop wondering what it would be like to be truly intimate with another person. Then, she could get on with her life and stop worrying that there was something wrong with her.
Jessie collected her order from the tattooed barista and grabbed a table outside. There were several other people sitting at the tiny, wobbly tables, enjoying the unexpectedly mild weather. At the table closest to her, an Asian youth and his tiny teenage girlfriend sat close together, holding hands and mumbling earnestly, occasionally pausing to look tenderly into each other’s eyes. Next to them, an ancient couple sat silently, sharing the paper, and drinking espresso.
Couples surround me, Jessie thought, shaking her head and picking at her muffin. Her awkwardness around men had made her feel like an outsider most of her life, but lately it had become almost unbearable. Everywhere she went, she saw people connecting and building relationships, and yet she seemed to be excluded from that. It was like she was different from everyone else.
Sometimes she wondered if Clay had the right idea. Maybe all she needed to do was get out there and connect with someone, anyone, on any level. But the thought of a one-night stand with an anonymous stranger didn’t appeal to her at all. She’d just laughed and shrugged off the idea as one of Clay’s crazy projects, until Detective Reinhold had entered her store, and her life.
It wasn’t just that he was achingly attractive, though that certainly did contribute to her enthusiastic response to his caresses this afternoon. There was something about him that put her at ease in a way that she had never experienced before. After a few minutes in his presence she’d actually been able to relax and hold up her end of the conversation without babbling on about the weather or some irrelevant childhood experience. That was remarkable, and Jessie couldn’t bear to think of never seeing him again.
On some level, she was certain that an actual relationship with the handsome detective was out of the question. He was way out of her league for that, but he might be the perfect person to make love to for the first time. She wasn’t sure what exactly made a good lover, but she thought like anything else, practice makes perfect. Undoubtedly, a man as good-looking and exciting as the detective was very experienced.
According to Jamie, who knew a lot more about this than she did, a good lover was also considerate and generous. Jessie didn’t know the detective well enough to say if he met these requirements or not, but she could tell from the gentle way he’d touched her that he was at least interested in giving her pleasure. For a moment, she closed her eyes, and remembered the way he’d brushed his fingertips across the back of her knees. Yup, definitely interested in giving her pleasure.
Jessie also suspected from his behavior this morning that he might actually have a sense of humor. Add in the fact that she could actually talk to him and that he seemed to find her desirable, and he was the perfect candidate for being her first lover. Could she really let this opportunity pass her by and live with herself? How often did sexy, kind, sweet, funny men come along anyway? Not very often, or at least she didn’t think so. Jamie and Clay were both veterans of the singles scene, and they never seemed to find even one that wasn’t, deranged, attached, or on the rebound.
Jessie looked around and spotted a rare pay phone in an alcove by the entrance. Should she be wild and crazy and go for it, or wait and see if he contacted her? The thought of calling him terrified her, but waiting for him to make the first move seemed the worse of two tortures. What if he forgot about her?
With a fluttery feeling in her stomach, Jessie approached the phone. She set her purchases on a nearby table and fished a quarter out of her pocket. With a shaking hand, she put the quarter in the slot and dialed his number from the card. She held her breath and waited. The ring echoed over the line…once…twice…three times, and then she heard his voice.
“Reinhold,” he said gruffly. He sounded slightly annoyed.
Jessie nearly hung up the phone. This is crazy, she thought to herself, this isn’t high school. I should be able to talk to a man without freaking out like this. She flapped her free hand in indecision while several seconds passed.
“Hello…” Duncan said impatiently. “If this is an obscene phone call, buddy, you need to work on your delivery.” The last few words sounded distant, like he was about to hang up.
“Detective?” Jessie finally managed to say.
“Yeah?”
“Sorry, I dropped the phone. This is Jessica Martin. We met this morning. At the bookstore?” Of course he knows who I am, she thought, we were making out just a few hours ago. Surely, that doesn’t happen to him several times a day. Jessie desperately wished she could take this phone call back.
“Jessica, I’m glad you called,” he said in that deep rasp she remembered from their encounter that morning. She felt a tingle go up her spine at the warmth in his tone. “Did Theresa come back? Can you somehow keep her busy until I get there?” He asked.
The pause on the other end became too long and unbearable for Jessie. “Because, if you want, I could answer them now or perhaps later, when you’re not so busy. You’ve probably got a lot to do, tracking down runaways and saving the world and all.” Jessie’s voice rushed at the end, and she was tempted to just walk away. Instead, she pressed her forehead to the phone box, and thumped it gently a few times.
“No, no, I’m not too busy. I’m just surprised you called,” Duncan said. Jessie heard something in the background. It sounded like voices. Was he with someone right now? She imagined a tall, lanky blond straight out of the Victoria’s Secret catalogue, probably giving him a sponge bath. Suddenly, she felt like being sick.
“Listen,” he said, “My dog is taking me for a walk in Stanley Park right now, and I don’t have my notepad or anything with me. But I’d love to meet with you sometime. How about over dinner? I’d be glad to take you out somewhere really nice. Or…” His voice trailed off and there was an uncomfortable silence.
“Or what?” Jessie asked, praying that he wasn’t trying to come up with an excuse not to see her.
“This is probably a stupid idea, but why don’t I make dinner for you?”
Jessie breathed a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t imagined the connection between them. He actually sounded a bit nervous. “Why would that be a stupid idea?” she asked, too thrilled to be seeing him again to think about the details.
“Well, you don’t know me very well. I could be a crazed serial killer for all you know. Though I can tell you that serial killers rarely live in high-rise apartments—too difficult to hide the bodies, not to mention the smell.”
“Detective, I wasn’t worried about meeting you at your apartment until you said that. I think I’m going to hang up now.”
“Sorry, black humor comes with the job. Coming to my place is definitely a dumb thing to do. Let’s just meet somewhere crowded and well lit. I know just the place,” Duncan said, sounding genuinely excited about seeing her again.
“No, I’d really like to come to your place. As long as you promise not to add me to your list of victims.” Jessie couldn’t believe she was actually bantering with him. She thought she sounded very cool, and worldly, like she made dates with studly detectives everyday.
“Really? That’s great. How about Lasagna and my killer garlic bread at my place tonight? Around Eight?”
“Killer? Why killer?”
“’Cause I actually killed a man by breathing on him the last time I made it.”
It was a corny line, but it made Jessie laugh anyway. “That sounds just wonderful, Detective.”
“Duncan. Now that we’re officially eating together, I think you should call me by my name.”
“Okay. Duncan. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll keep my eyes open for Theresa in the mean time.”
“Me too. I’m actually multi-tasking right now: searching for her and walking the dog. By the way, bring that book along. It seems to me you still owe me a lesson.”
After writing down Duncan’s address on her muffin bag with a grease pencil from the condiments counter, Jessie hung up the pay phone and leaned against the brick wall. The old couple at the nearest table gave her a curious look, but she just smiled back at them. She had a date tonight with a man who both excited her and made her laugh. Amazing what a difference a phone call could make, she thought to herself. She’d gone from hopeless virgin spinster to dating machine in just five short minutes.
*****
Duncan stared at the cell phone in his hand and shook his head. He couldn’t believe it could be that easy. That gorgeous, sweet, intelligent woman had actually called and asked him out.
He’d been sitting on a bench in the park, repetitively throwing a tattered orange tennis ball for Hannibal when she’d called. Thinking about taking a detour toward her store on the pretense of asking her some more questions. He’d been completely shocked when he’d heard her soft, anxious voice.
Duncan wondered if he should have brought up the Victorian erotica again. What if she actually thought he wanted some kind of history lesson? He imagined sitting through a PowerPoint presentation with an enormous hard-on, while she droned on about the mating habits of Victorian nymphomaniacs. He hoped fervently that she had something more physically satisfying in mind. Either way, he was looking forward to seeing her again.
He knew he shouldn’t even be thinking about going on a date when his sister was missing, but he’d been searching for Theresa practically non-stop for the past two weeks. And found nothing. He’d talked to every contact he had, retraced his path a hundred times, and interviewed countless homeless people and prostitutes. Theresa’s picture had been shown to all of them.
Before talking to Jessie this morning, he’d thought perhaps his theory was wrong. Maybe Theresa hadn’t come to Vancouver after all. If nothing tangible had turned up by the end of the week, he’d been preparing to take some time off and go to Calgary to look for the runaway.
Now that he knew Theresa actually was here, all he had to do was wait for her to show up again. A few hours with a beautiful woman wasn’t going to make a difference, he told himself. Besides, this might be his only chance with the lovely bookstore owner. If he rejected her now, he probably wouldn’t get another opportunity. Women like her were rare, and he didn’t want to blow it. He would go out looking for Theresa after Jessie left. He wouldn’t be able to rest otherwise.
Duncan looked affectionately at the poodle. Hannibal was sitting directly in front of him with his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth and the orange ball at his feet, waiting impatiently for Duncan to throw the ball again.
“Come on, boy,” he said enthusiastically to the dog, “we’ve got to get to the deli and buy some lasagna and garlic bread. We have a hot date tonight, and Kraft dinner just won’t cut it.” Hannibal barked at the energetic tone Duncan was using and got up, wagging his rather tattered pom-pom tail in excitement.
Chapter 6
Jessie examined the address she’d written down on her muffin bag again. This couldn’t be right, she thought, looking up at the shiny, luxury apartment building that corresponded with the numbers on the scrap in her hand. There was no way a cop lived in a place like this—especially not on the fortieth floor overlooking the harbor and the park. A tiny elderly woman held the double glass doors to the lobby open for her and she walked in with a smile and a whispered “Thanks.”
The lobby was even more intimidating. Jessie stared at the crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. It was nearly the size of an elephant. Large, dark, but not terribly comfortable looking antique furniture lined the walls, and there was a hushed, almost mausoleum feel to the place.
She walked to the elevator and pushed the button, starting to feel wildly nervous. She was excited, but also a little scared. She really didn’t know what to expect tonight. Would they actually sit down and start discussing Victorian erotica over a quiet dinner or would he just take her in his arms and ravage her? She’d brought a few books from their collection, but she hoped she wouldn’t need them. She was so nervous she didn’t think she could eat anyway.
This afternoon, after making the date with Duncan, Jessie had returned to work and tried to act as casual as possible. For some reason, she didn’t want to Clay to know what she’d done. She didn’t even call Jamie and let her in on the big news. The two of them would just make her more nervous with their suggestions and tips on how to act and what to do. Besides, she was enjoying keeping something to herself for a change.
Clay had looked at her suspiciously when she’d come back with his coffee w
earing a huge smile, but hadn’t questioned her. Just watched her humming to herself over her endless boxes of books, and shook his head, mumbling something about PMS and mood swings. When Jessie told him she was leaving at five instead of her usual seven or eight o’clock, he’d just waved at her from his usual perch on the desk where he was making evening plans over the phone with his current boyfriend, Travis. Jessie was glad for the distraction. There was no way she’d have gotten out of there without spilling her guts if Clay hadn’t been so focused on flirting with Travis.
Jessie had walked home to her second floor apartment on the corner of Thurlow and Alberni, smiling at strangers, and contemplating her wardrobe. What did one wear to be ravished? She had no idea. She was tempted to call Jamie. Her sister would know exactly what ensemble was appropriate for an occasion like this.
When she got home, she took a bubble bath in her white, claw-footed tub, hoping it would help her relax. Lying in the hot, vanilla-scented water, she thought about the evening ahead and felt desire trickle through her lower belly. She imagined how he would look at her and what it would be like if he joined her here in the tub. The thought of rubbing soap into his muscled torso, and licking droplets of moisture from his neck made her feel restless and uncomfortably hot.
Jessie left the tub on shaky legs, and put on her fluffy, blue terry clothe robe. She went to her cherry wood dresser and opened the top drawer. On top was the cotton underwear she wore everyday, but underneath was her stash of overpriced, mostly unworn, lingerie. She picked up a soft peach camisole and matching silk panties. Would he like something elegant like this, or should she go for the black lace thong and push-up bra? Thinking of her full bottom, Jessie opted for the more modest style.
She slipped off the robe, pulled on the peach lingerie set, and walked over to the full-length mirror by her blue and white plaid bed in what she thought was a slinky manner. The effect wasn’t bad. The high-cut of the panties made her pale legs look long and elegant, and she could just see the outline of her dark nipples through the camisole. She brushed a finger over her right breast and it immediately beaded against the silky camisole. Cupping the entire full breast in her hand, she remembered how it had felt that afternoon to be touched just that way by Duncan. She groaned and shook her head to be rid of these thoughts. What had he done to her? She was turning into a complete nympho!
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