And that was the final coherent image in her mind before sleep claimed her. Max and her working side by side in domestic bliss in the kitchen.
Chapter 9
Kari was grateful for the busy pace at work on Thursday. Max had again not sent a morning letter—he’d warned her he had another business meeting—but the knowledge that she’d see him Friday night...tomorrow!...kept her bobbing on a cushy, glittery cloud all day. Still, the time would have really dragged if not for the particularly demanding workday. If ever a person was actually appreciative of crushing deadlines and an impossible work schedule, Kari, on that Thursday, was it.
But finally, her watch read 5:00. Kari scooted out of the office faster than a politician pursuing a major campaign donor. The negligee was still in the lingerie shop window, and Kari went in. “Do you have that in an extra-large?” she asked, pointing to the garment she had eyes for. The clerk produced it, and Kari took it into the fitting room.
She looked at herself in it, and she knew Max would be entranced. It hid her ample figure well, draping elegantly to the floor with a full sweep, yet plunging at the neckline to expose the full roundness of her voluptuous breasts. Lace in strategic places added softness and elegance.
There was a clothing store next to the lingerie shop. Wanting something new and smashing, Kari browsed the racks and came up with a full-cut, pleated, teal blue dress. She could dress it up if they ate out, or wear it casually during the day. The largest size they had it in was an 18, but it was a loose-fitting dress. Too, she’d actually succeeded in losing three pounds, yet another factor that had propelled her into her upbeat frame of mind, so she took the dress into the fitting room optimistically.
But the dress just didn’t fit. Too small, too tight, it just wouldn’t work. Suddenly, the dress was more than a dress. It seemed a metaphor for something more. Her relationship with Max? Her weight-loss effort? Life itself? The dress wouldn’t fit, and the relationship wasn’t going to work, her weight-loss effort was a failure, and life stunk.
Tears burned her eyes and misted her vision as she blindly scrambled to yank the offending garment off her oversized, hulking body. She nearly tore it in her wild scramble to rid herself of the piece of fabric that was causing her so much pain. At last, she was free of the dress, but now she was facing her mirror image with only her underwear covering her mass of flesh and fat.
Yes, fat. There was no getting around it; Kari Crandall was a fat woman. Fat. Overweight, obese, more-than-just-hefty. Fat. What would Max say when he saw her in the buff? How would he react making love to a blubbery body? When he pulled off the black negligee, if the lights were on, how would he cope with the body he revealed underneath?
Her head buzzed; her eyes burned worse than ever. In a panic, she scrambled back into her clothes, leaving the teal dress in the fitting room and rushing blindly out of the store. In the car, she let go and bawled, her eyes overflowing, her wails so loud that more than one passerby stopped and looked in the car. She motioned each one to leave her alone, and they all did.
At last, she calmed down. Thank God for the roll of paper towels in the car. She had it there for such contingencies as cleaning off the windshield, but she used it now for blowing her nose and wiping off her smeared eye makeup. Her face was a riot of colorful rivulets, blue eye shadow and black mascara and liner cascading down her face in large, teary drops, and mixing with her blush.
Opening her purse, she got out her makeup case, then turned on the car’s overhead light. As best she could, she reapplied her makeup till she looked at least semi-human. That was better than she actually felt, but looking decent was a start. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, but there wasn’t much she could do about that.
She skipped dinner, only munching on a candy bar from her purse. When she walked into Larrimore headquarters, Jeff looked up from the computer and stared at her hard for a minute. Kari realized he was debating what to say about the condition of her eyes. “Don’t ask,” she said.
Jeff shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Have it your way,” and returned to the computer. He seemed very intent on his job.
“What’s up?” she asked him, trying to keep her voice light.
“Trying to recover some files,” he answered almost curtly, without looking up.
“Delete something you didn’t mean to?” Kari asked.
“I didn’t,” he seethed.
Kari looked around. Eileen tilted her head sharply toward the far side of the room, in a “Come over there with me and we’ll talk” gesture. Wonderingly, Kari followed her.
Knitting her brows in a puzzled expression, Kari asked, “What’s up?”
“Someone deleted some vital files from the computer.”
“By accident?”
“I doubt it. The backup copies on the floppy disks are gone too.”
“What’s missing?”
“Larrimore’s speech for Friday night, and the list of registered voters with who’s already been called and who said they’d vote for Larrimore.”
“Who had access?”
“The last one here last night was Jeff. He stayed behind after everyone else had gone. Of course that makes it too obvious...I can’t believe he’d be so stupid as to do it when everything points to him. Then again, I can’t believe he’d do it to begin with. But since no one else saw anyone messing with the computer, it does look bad for him.”
“Oh, I don’t believe...Jeff couldn’t possibly have...no way!”
“I agree with you, but Russ and the others...they seem to think it looks like Jeff must be the one. They’re keeping an eye on him. Larrimore himself is seeing red. Beyond red. Purple with chartreuse polka dots.”
Kari giggled at that picture. It felt good to giggle again. But the laughter didn’t last long when she thought of poor Jeff unfairly accused...and she knew it was unfair, just knew he hadn’t done it.“Do you suppose the same person who made the flyers disappear is responsible?”
“Hmmm...that’s a good guess, but I don’t know. Something fishy is going on, for sure.”
Kari drifted back over to the computer. Jeff was still working at it. His forever grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed-brow concentration. “I have some software at home that I might be able to use to recover the lost files,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” Jeff lived five minutes away.
The re-do on the mailing was back from the printers. Nothing had happened to these cartons; they were all lined up on the floor. Several volunteers were working at a long table, and Kari joined them. It was dull work, but Kari let her mind wander, thinking of the upcoming weekend with Max. Kari’s black spirits had lifted, and her usual optimism reasserted itself.
She pictured Max walking in her backyard with her at night, his arm around her to keep her warm, gazing up at the star-smothered sky... Max waking her up in the morning with a soft, tender kiss on the shoulder... Max fixing coffee in the morning as if he truly belonged there... Max making delicious love to her, not omitting a single part of her body in his explorations... Max accompanying her all over Jeffersonville while she pointed out her favorite spots, and those of personal historical significance... Max curled up with her on the sofa, snuggling and talking, telling her all about himself.... Her reverie was interrupted by Jeff’s return.
“Got the software?” Russ asked.
“Got it!”
“Think it’ll work?”
“One way to find out.” He went to work at the computer, whistling as he worked, and Kari kept glancing at him while she worked on the mailing. It was her job to stick pre-addressed labels on the mailers, a mindless task that left her plenty of time to speculate on the election hanky-panky. It seemed obvious to her that with two damaging incidents in two days, these happenings were not just accidents or carelessness. She was also sure that Jeff wouldn’t have spirited away the mailing on Tuesday or deleted the computer information.
Or had he? Had she misjudged him? Was the fact that she enjoyed his company, was beginning to think
of him as her newest friend, clouding her judgment? No! No, she was sure he was utterly innocent. Someone else was at fault...and in all probability, was trying to frame Jeff.
But no, that sounded too cloak-and-dagger. This was the stuff of novels, not real life. On the other hand, though, if these things didn’t sometimes happen in real life, they wouldn’t work as believable novels. Then maybe she was misjudging Jeff...maybe he had done it? No! But how to prove his innocence? How to find the guilty party?
“Got something!” Jeff sang out.
Russ called from across the room, “Got the speech back?”
“No, I can’t recover the speech. But I read the original, and I’m not too bad with words. I believe I can rewrite the speech. I’ve recovered part of the voters list. Some of it’s garbled, but, hey, this is a start. Half a loaf, and all that. Right?”
He worked awhile longer, saving and backing, finally printing out what he’d recovered. It wasn’t complete, but as he’d said, some was better than none. He then went right to work on the speech, cobbling it together from bits of the original speech that he remembered and creations from his own brain that, Russ had to admit, were better than the original.
Ron Larrimore himself showed up at the storefront office just as Kari was getting ready to leave. Looking over the speech, he declared himself impressed with Jeff’s facility with words. “Talk to me after I get elected,” he said to Jeff.
Jeff shook his head. “I’ll never quit my day job for politics,” he said with a grin. “Too chancy.”
“Uh—Ron....” Russ said, clearing his throat. Kari just knew that Russ was about to tell Larrimore not to offer Jeff any jobs if he was the one who had made the information disappear in the first place. On her way to the bathroom, a little while earlier, she had passed Russ’s desk and overheard him on the phone. “...probably did it himself to make himself look good. Destroy it, save the day, and look like a hero?”
She didn’t believe that scenario either, but at this point, she had to admit that things certainly looked bad for Jeff.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jeff said as Kari slipped into her coat. She wondered what was up. “You okay?” he asked when they were alone on the sidewalk out front.
Remembering her earlier sadness again, she sighed. “Yes, I guess so,” she said wistfully.
“If you need a friend...a shoulder....”
“Thanks. I know you mean that.”
“I do for real. You have my home phone?”
“Right here in my purse.” She patted her large, black handbag.
“Could you find it if you needed it? It might be lost in that cavernous bag. What do you women keep in those things?”
“That’s a secret I’ve been sworn never to tell a man. Only women know what we keep in our purses.”
“I know—you’ve got an elephant in there.”
“No, clowns. Like in the circus? If I open the bag, five clowns will climb out.”
“I doubt it. Now, midgets, maybe.”
“Open it and see for yourself.”
“Are you nuts? If I open it, who knows what’ll jump out and bite me. You may have a lobster in there.” He made a claw out of his hand and lightly pinched at Kari’s hand.
“No, you were right the first time. It’s an elephant. It’s going to squirt you with its trunk.” By this time, they were both laughing.
“That’s better,” Jeff said, tugging emphatically at the corners of her mouth with his two index fingers to exaggerate her smile. Lunging at him, Kari lightly bit one of his fingers. “Have you had your rabies shots?” Jeff teased.
Kari opened the door. “Thanks,” she said. Jeff had made her feel better...and he was the one who really needed—and deserved—cheering up.
“Don’t forget...call me if you need to talk.”
“And vice-versa! You’ve got my number, too. Do you want my work number?”
“I’ll be fine.” He gritted his teeth, determination overtaking his smile. He thrust his chin out resolutely. “When are you in next?”
“Nobody told me anything. And I have plans this weekend.”
“Good. Something fun, I hope?”
“Most definitely! Max is coming over—my boyfriend.” Max—my boyfriend—the first time she’d said that. She liked the sound.
“Well, give us a call Sunday or Monday, whenever you get a chance, and I’ll let you know when we’re going to have a project going. Or just drop in. There’s always something to do.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.” He waved as she closed the car door, started the car, and eased out of the parking space.
It was late, and she was tired, but nothing was going to stop her from checking email before she went to bed. There was only one piece of mail waiting for her, but it was from Max.
My dear,
Only one more day...I’ll see you in roughly twenty-four hours...and it will be a rough twenty-four hours indeed, waiting to touch your sweet face with my hands, to blend my lips with yours, to hold your body tight to mine and feel the excitement surging through it.
I want to get to know your body, and I want to get to know all of you. Decisions, decisions—do we make love first, talk first, cuddle first—or have you some other plan for us? I’m all ears.
Did you have a good day, sweet Kari? Mine was plagued with problems, but nothing permanent or critical, and certainly nothing that being with you tomorrow won’t erase from my consciousness.
I long to hold you in my arms, to whisper tender sweetnesses in your ears, to hear your voice say my name and hear it as beautiful music.
And speaking of music, I’m not a half bad singer; I may serenade you while I’m there. What is your favorite kind of music? That’s a topic we’ve never discussed before. And please don’t tell me you like rap—that’s not music! Say you love rap and you’ll ruin all my illusions.
Well, my dear, it’s dinner time and I haven’t eaten yet. I was eager to “talk” to you, first. But now that I’ve done that, I’ll go fix a bite.
And so, that’s it until tomorrow morning, and then tomorrow night when you should be watching your driveway for a red Porsche pulling in.
Till then,
Max
Kari’s reply was briefer than usual. Partly this was due to her tiredness, partly to the constraints on what she would say to him. She wouldn’t cry on his shoulder over the bad day; she didn’t want to tell him about the negligee she’d bought for him, preferring to surprise him with it. In the end, she told him how eager she was to see him, briefly described the incident at the campaign HQ with the missing data, and let it go at that.
Showering quickly, she got in bed, but as tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep. Lots of what-ifs ran through her head. What if Max was unable to come tomorrow for some reason? What if he just didn’t like her when he met her? And then, what if Jeff really had destroyed the data and was responsible for the mailers’ disappearing act?
On a night when she needed to be wide awake the next evening, and really needed a good night’s sleep, Kari tossed and turned till well past 1:30.
Chapter 10
Jeff trudged back to the storefront reluctantly. No fool, he surmised what Russ was saying about him. What many of his co-workers were no doubt thinking and saying.
Kari seemed to believe in him. Sweet Kari. She was the only one there who he felt truly trusted him one hundred percent.
Kari. She was fun, she was funny, she was quick-witted, clever, and intelligent. She reminded him of Jennifer. Jennifer had been his best friend in college. That and more. They’d progressed, Jeff and Jennifer, from best-friendship to romance. Jeff had always believed your mate should be your friend. Not every friend could, or should, be a lover, of course, but it was good if any serious lover was also a friend.
Kari, of course, had a boyfriend—she had said as much. So that seemed to eliminate her as a potential romantic interest...at least, as long as the boyfriend remained on the scene. Too bad. But they cou
ld still be good friends. Jennifer and he had been good friends even before they started dating.
As Jeff returned to his work in the campaign office, he wondered what Kari’s boyfriend was like. Was he rotund, ultra-skinny, or something closer to average? More importantly, did he appreciate Kari?
Did he realize how special she was? Creative, industrious, upbeat, friendly, trusting, and all that other good stuff...Kari had a lot going for her. Did this boyfriend know it?
As Jeff worked, his mind wandered. Kari had taken up residence in his brain. He realized, with guilt, that half of him was rooting for Kari’s boyfriend to let her down.
He already considered Kari a friend. And part of him was cheering that friend on, wanting her to find satisfaction with the boyfriend she had mentioned. But another part of him—he had to be honest with himself—was hoping things didn’t go well with the boyfriend, leaving Jeff a clear field to become something more than a friend, as he had done with Jennifer.
Working away, Jeff suddenly felt as if he were being scrutinized. If he looked up, he imagined he’d see everyone staring at him, wanting to see what he’d sabotage next. Damn!
To prove to himself that he was just being paranoid, he raised his head from his work abruptly...and found that Eileen and one of the newer volunteers actually were looking at him. Of course, that didn’t absolutely prove what they were thinking, but the fact that they looked away as he looked up and caught them seemed pretty incriminating.
MacGregor, Cynthia - An Appetite for Passion (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 8