Spice
Page 5
Nadia took a quick look around the kitchen, but they miraculously had it to themselves. She moved closer to her partner and gave in to the grin that she’d suppressed all morning. “Hell yeah, he did. At one point, I think I heard angels singing!”
Siobhan squealed like a teen spotting her boy band crush. “Ooh, let me call the girls!”
Within moments they had Audie and Vanessa on a conference call. “About damn time,” Audie exclaimed. “I stayed up past my bedtime to hear this news!”
“How was your date, Nadia?” Vanessa asked, the voice of reason and decorum as always.
Nadia couldn’t contain herself any longer. These were her friends, and they’d bonded over sharing their laundry, dirty or otherwise. She couldn’t hold out on them. “Guys, it was the most amazing time,” she gushed as she gave them the PG-13 version of her night. “It was so good that I’m wondering if it was really that good or is it just because I broke my drought?”
Audie laughed. “Sounds to me like you need another round to be sure. Maybe three or four. That’s how I make up my mind about whether or not I like a guy.”
Siobhan shook her head. “Audie, are you at home?”
The silence was answer enough. Nadia sighed. “Audie, remember how you promised to decide that you like the guy before you sleep with him?”
“I do not recall making that promise.”
“There were witnesses,” Vanessa said. “And it was at last Tuesday’s Bitch Talk.”
“Well . . .”
Nadia leaned closer to the phone. “Do you remember saying that if you broke your promise, I could withhold your dessert?”
An audible intake of breath. “You wouldn’t.”
“Consider yourself cut off, babe.” Siobhan’s no-nonsense mother voice cut off any argument. They’d long ago decided that they’d have each other’s backs and keep each other on the mostly straight and narrow, and that meant breaking out the tough-love bitch slap whenever necessary. Audie had a problem with falling into bed first and asking questions later. No matter how safe she was, Nadia and the others still worried about where Audie was headed if she didn’t get to the root of her sex issues.
“As for you,” Siobhan added, turning back to Nadia, “it’s been one date. One toe-curling date, which means it’s way the hell too early to worry about anything. Just take it one step at a time.”
One step at a time. She could do that. That was how she’d been living her life for the last few years. One day at a time, always moving forward and away from the ugliness of the past. Kane had heard her sexual declaration the day before. He knew she wanted no pressure, no entanglements, and definitely no drama.
“Speaking of which,” Vanessa said, “when’s the next step?”
“Don’t know,” Nadia answered. “We haven’t talked about when yet.”
Jas pushed open the door leading back to the main retail area. “Uhm, Nadia? We need you out here, please.”
“I’d better go see what’s going on out there. I’ll talk to you guys later.” Nadia disconnected, then handed the phone back to Siobhan. “I’m worried about Audie.”
“Me too.” Siobhan pocketed her phone. “She’s the youngest of us. All we can do is be there for her and support her when she’s ready to deal with her issues. Let’s go see what fire’s burning out on the floor.”
Curious, Nadia pushed open the door and stepped into the café counter area, wondering what sort of problem had occurred that Jas couldn’t handle. Siobhan followed her. Most days at ten a.m., the shop entered the slow portion of the morning before the run-up to lunch, and today was no exception. The courier holding a gigantic bouquet of mixed flowers was different.
“Nadia Spiceland?” asked the twenty-something blond-haired surfer-looking guy in a navy blue courier company T-shirt and bike shorts. He glanced between Nadia and Siobhan then did a double-take at Siobhan, as most men did.
“That’s me.”
“Special delivery. Please sign here. . . .” He thrust his smartphone in her general direction, but his gaze was firmly locked on Siobhan, who ignored him.
Amused, Nadia used her forefinger to sign the screen, then relieved the courier of the bouquet so that he could stare at her partner unencumbered. “Thank you. Her name’s Siobhan, by the way.”
Nadia took the bouquet over to what their staffers called “the bosses’ table.” She had no idea what the different blooms were, but she didn’t recognize anything that looked like roses. She hadn’t had flowers since her stint in the hospital prior to rehab, but those arrangements had nothing on the exquisite assortment in the ruby red vase she held now, a collection of flowers that made her wonder if Kane had chosen each one himself.
Siobhan joined her after sending the dazed courier off with a sandwich and several cupcakes. “Looks like you’re not the only one who had a great night.”
Embarrassment and heat spread through Nadia as she breathed in the heady fragrance that reminded her of spices and sweetness and sex. “Maybe, but it also looks like that courier couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Siobhan shrugged, the action elegant on her. “Couldn’t take his eyes off the girls, you mean.” She splayed her right hand across her cleavage. “He’s probably my daughter’s age. Besides, we’re not talking about my love life or lack thereof. We’re talking about yours. See what the card says.”
Nadia reached into the colorful stems to extract the card held by a clear plastic pitchfork. Opening the envelope, she pulled out the heavy card. Bold handwriting in black ink was scrawled across the heavy ivory paper. To an amazing woman. Thank you for an amazing night. Until later. Kane.
Nadia couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face any more than she could help the giddiness that bubbled through her like champagne on New Year’s Eve. Kane had hit all her buttons. Most importantly, he knew what those buttons were and how to push them.
She held out her arm. “I think I need you to pinch me.”
Siobhan obligingly pinched her inner elbow. “You’re not dreaming, girl. You’re positively glowing.”
She pulled out her phone, handed it to Siobhan. “Would you mind taking a picture of me and the flowers, so I can send it to him?”
Siobhan obliged, and Nadia sent the image to Kane along with a text. Thank you. The flowers are beautiful.
She received a quick reply. Not as beautiful as you.
It was a cheesy line, but it still made her grin like an idiot. Very smooth, Professor.
I have my moments. How are you today?
There was only one word she could use. Amazing.
Are you ready for more?
Was she? Absolutely.
It seemed like an eternity before she received his reply. I’ll be at your place by five with dinner. Be ready for me.
They were just words on her phone screen, but they caused her stomach to clench in anticipation. She could easily imagine the sensual command in his tone and the sinful light in his eyes as he’d typed out his response, could imagine it so clearly that her nipples tightened. Yes, sir.
Naughty. Now I have to lecture my class sporting a boner. Think about how you’ll pay for that while I figure out a way to speed up time. See you soon.
“You should see your face right now,” Siobhan teased. “You’re blushing. Whatever he’s doing for you, he’d better keep doing it or he’ll have to answer to me.”
“I’ll tell him that.” Nadia sighed as she slipped her phone into her back pocket then met Siobhan’s knowing grin with one of her own. “When I see him tonight. We’re meeting at five.”
Siobhan swatted her. “No wonder you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat. If you’re that excited to see him again, I’d say the fireworks have nothing to do with a sex drought and everything to do with the sparks you two throw off.”
Nadia raised a brow. “How do you know we throw off s
parks?”
“Girl, please.” Siobhan rolled her eyes. “I may be an old mother hen, but my eyes work just fine. A person would have to be in a coma to miss the sexual tension you two gave off yesterday. Or how you’re reacting to his texts today.”
The blonde woman placed a hand on Nadia’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Nadia. I’m proud of you too. You’ve come a long way from the day I met you, working hard and staying clean, making sure I do the same. You’re doing great and you deserve some fun. You deserve this. Let yourself enjoy it.”
Moved, Nadia mirrored Siobhan’s gesture, resting her forehead against the other woman’s bright bangs. They’d been through so much together since they’d met in rehab in Los Angeles. To Nadia, the older woman was more than her partner. Siobhan was her best friend, the sister she’d never had. Siobhan had her back like family did, or in Siobhan’s opinion, better than family, and Nadia trusted her implicitly.
“Thanks, Sugar,” Nadia said, giving the other woman a hug. “I promise to enjoy myself.”
“Good.” Siobhan stepped back, giving her a watery smile. “Speaking of Sugar, you should tell Kane about the show and invite him to come with you this Friday.”
Nadia stared. “Invite Kane. To your burlesque show. On a date?”
“Yes, a date. You know, like the one you went on last night.”
“That was different!”
Siobhan frowned. “How is that different?”
“That was me with him at dinner. This is your show. All of our friends will be there!”
“Are you saying that Kane’s not your friend? With some very spectacular benefits?”
“No, I’m not saying that, but—”
“Are you ashamed of our friends?”
“Of course not!”
“Then I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”
Nadia blew out a breath. She couldn’t explain it without sounding silly. Siobhan performed as Sugar Malloy with a burlesque troupe known as the Crimson Bay Bombshells. Show nights were an excuse to dress up and hang out with their expanded circle of friends. It was their prime opportunity to let loose and have fun before diving back into the workweek.
To invite Kane into the raucous madness that was Friday night mayhem invited a level of intimacy that Nadia wasn’t sure she was ready for. That was the silly part. She’d left her thong on the man’s gearshift, rode his hand while in an elevator, and had him bend her over a sofa. They were intimate up to their eyeballs. But Nadia’s life worked because she kept it compartmentalized, and she didn’t see a reason not to compartmentalize the sex. She’d already crossed a mental line by accepting a date from a customer. To take that customer-turned-lover and drop him into the den of iniquity that was her friends? She didn’t think she could do that to the guy.
“Turn our friends loose on Kane?” she asked with a laugh. “You want to end this thing before it has a chance to get started?”
“It won’t be that bad. Besides, I have a feeling your professor can hold his own with our group.”
Her professor. Nadia wasn’t sure if she was ready to claim him as hers or not. One date and multiple orgasms didn’t mean she had any rights to him, did it? Maybe it did, but her stint in LA and in rehab had skewed her perspective on what normal people did when it came to sex and relationships. One night and this was already more complicated than she’d expected or wanted it to be.
Siobhan flicked her ear. “Ow! What was that for?”
Her partner was unapologetic. “You promised to have fun and enjoy yourself with the professor, remember?”
“All right! We’ll see how things go. If it works out, I’ll ask him about Friday. I make no promises, though.”
Nadia decided to place the flowers in a prominent but safe spot near the register until she left for the day, liking the way the arrangement brightened the area. This didn’t have to be complicated. All she had to do was make her mind follow her body and remain focused on the sexual fireworks. Complicated always led to trouble, and trouble led to a crash and burn. She definitely didn’t need another episode like that in her life.
FIVE
“Sullivan. May I have a word?”
Kane smothered a groan. No, he didn’t have time, but no one refused a request from Dr. Theodore Marshall, the department head. So he pasted on a professional smile and followed the older man into his spacious and cluttered office instead of heading toward the exit as he wanted.
Once inside, he cut to the chase. “What can I do for you, Dr. Marshall?”
Marshall glanced at him over his silver-framed glasses as only a department head could do. Through Herscher University was on the forefront as a progressive liberal arts college, it was also a top-notch research institution that thrived on grants from the government and private think tanks alike. More than likely, Dr. Marshall wanted to talk to him about money, which meant entertaining alumni with deep pockets.
“Have a seat, Professor Sullivan,” Marshall said, gesturing to one of the overstuffed oxblood chairs that fronted his ornate desk. “Let’s have a little chat.”
Great. Kane hid a grimace as he took a seat. Marshall saw himself as the benevolent despot and the chats as a way to come off as being engaged with faculty instead of bossy or nosy. He also liked to hear himself talk.
This was going to take time, time Kane didn’t have. Nadia was waiting for him, waiting for more of the explosive pleasure they’d had the night before, and he was determined to give it to her. That meant cutting through Marshall’s bullshit as quickly as possible and getting the hell out of Prentiss Hall.
The department head was pushing seventy and two hundred and eighty pounds. Evidence remained that his girth had been mostly muscle at one time, but those days were long gone. His shock of silver hair had been brown at one time, if you took the twin caterpillars over his pale gray eyes as indication. Dr. Marshall had the appearance and temperament of a constipated shih tzu.
“I’ll get down to brass tacks, Professor,” the department head said. “I’m sure you’re aware that you have a certain moniker as well as a less than savory reputation among the student body.”
This again. Kane hid his anger by taking his time adjusting his glasses. “I’m sure you’re aware that I neither condone nor encourage either.”
“Yet rumors persist.”
“I wonder why,” Kane murmured. “I also wonder who manages the care and feeding of those rumors, when I certainly do not.” Marshall didn’t talk to students if he could help it. He dealt with the faculty. Kane believed someone on staff kept circulating baseless tales about him. He even had two good candidates in mind, neither of whom would weep tears over his departure.
Watery eyes regarded him. “While your expertise and fame garners a great deal of positive attention for our school as a whole and this department in particular, your on-campus reputation is becoming a deterrent.”
Kane exhaled slowly, keeping his expression impassive with an effort. He was the maligned party, but Marshall would take any display of anger as a sign of weakness. “I’ll remind you that I’ve never once encouraged the attention of any of my students outside of the classroom. I keep my door open when I counsel students and have one of the graduate assistants sit in on some of the more fraught sessions. I even inform students that they’re being recorded. All of these are measures that you yourself signed off on.”
He wasn’t stupid, and all it would take was one questionable photo posted to a social media site to torpedo his campus career. So he went to extremes and did everything possible to protect himself and still be available for his students and leave his detractors without ammunition.
If there was any sort of black mark against him, it was the six-month relationship he’d had with an adjunct professor in Continuing Studies. That had ended a year ago, not well, but it hadn’t been a scandal either. Now he had a new relationship he wanted to focus on,
if only Dr. Marshall would get to the fucking point.
“You asked to speak to me, yet you’ve only rehashed old issues that I thought long handled.” Kane sat back in the chair, his posture displaying a relaxation he didn’t feel. “Am I to assume you have some sage advice you wish to impart? Our normal chat isn’t scheduled until next week.” And I really hope I’m called for a consulting case then.
“Indeed I do.” Marshall sat forward, some of the harshness leaving his expression. “Listen, son, I know this isn’t easy for you, just as I know it isn’t fair. I do think, however, that your looks combined with your charm and your continued bachelorhood means that you will always be a prize that the student body will want to claim.”
Kane blinked, thrown by the change in demeanor as much as by Marshall’s words. Maybe the department head really was concerned with more than listening to himself speak. Kane knew that his persistent single state didn’t help to staunch the rumors or advance his quest for tenure, but he didn’t think Marshall was concerned one way or the other.
“Are you saying that you want me to get married?” He should have been surprised, but he wasn’t. At thirty-seven, he’d never been married, a fact that sent his mother into wails of despair. His focus on his career had dominated his life since college, leaving little time for more than casual relationships.
Truth be told, he hadn’t found anyone who had made him think long term, and he was okay with that even if most people weren’t. Marriage was still the preferred default state for adults in the United States. Who cared that wedded bliss had a fifty percent success rate? If you weren’t married, engaged, or in the process of ending a marriage, people thought something was wrong with you.
“I’m saying that you need to take more concrete steps to protect your career,” Marshall said, his tone and expression kind. “Right now you’re like forbidden fruit, and sometimes our students display a decided lack of self-control. You need to do something to make that fruit less attractive.”
Kane barked out a laugh. The situation, the conversation, all of it, was just too ludicrous to be believed. “So in order to keep my job as a professor here at Herscher, I need to get married. Is that what you’re advising me to do, Dr. Marshall? I want to make sure I understand where the department head stands on this.”