Now You See Me

by S. Y. Thompson

  She didn’t have enough information to judge what was going on and decided to take things at face value for now.

  Carson led the way to the SUV and opened the door for Erin as she had the last time. She wasn’t sure why she did it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Erin acted as if this was normal behavior and didn’t comment as she climbed into the Lexus.

  Carson got in and pulled into traffic.

  “This is a nice car,” Erin commented. “I love the smell of leather.”

  Carson smiled. The last time Erin was in the vehicle she had been in shock and Carson doubted she remembered any of the details.

  “You don’t think it’s too big? My friend, Joyce, always tells me it’s too much for a computer executive.”

  “She doesn’t think it presents the right image?”

  “I suppose so.” Carson shrugged. “I wanted something that presents a good image for my clients and I like the space it provides for equipment. Now that I’ve grown used to it, I can’t imagine being without it.”

  Erin didn’t respond right away and Carson glanced at her. Her expression was pensive while she thought about that assessment, and her eyes were on the traffic. Then she shook her head lightly. “After seeing you in action the other night, I don’t think there’s anything that could be considered too much for you. Besides, it’s a very classy vehicle.”

  A sharp tingle in her stomach stole Carson’s voice for a second. That sounded like a compliment, and not just a casual one.

  Is Erin flirting with me? If so, she’s subtle. Or maybe I just have a serious case of wishful thinking.

  “Thank you.” The response was all she could manage. They drove another block before she spoke again. “So, do you drive?”

  “Oh, yes,” Erin replied. “Even though I don’t live far from work, I like the freedom that having a car offers me. Plus I don’t care for mass transit.”

  “Too many people,” they both said at the same time.

  Carson laughed right along with Erin, pleased to see that they shared something in common.

  “What kind of car do you have? I didn’t notice it when I drove you home yesterday.”

  Since there wasn’t a car in the assigned bay, she assumed Erin didn’t drive. Perhaps the apartments allocated more than one space.

  “I drive a Nissan 350Z.”

  Carson gasped. “Was that the touring car that I saw across from where I pulled into? The black convertible?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Erin tried to go for casual, but Carson could hear the pride in her voice and couldn’t really blame her. She had noticed the other car and remembered the black shine from the body and the highly buffed chrome front end. It was obvious that Erin took a great deal of care with the vehicle’s maintenance.

  The drive wasn’t long but traffic was slow on the slippery streets. There wasn’t any snow now but with Christmas only a week away, people had ventured out to look for that last minute perfect gift. Carson thought the weather was more suited to indoor activities, and Erin’s eyes sparkled in excitement and anticipation of the exhibition. Carson was pleased to see her eyes lightened from the muted brown they had been since the incident in the Holcomb Building.

  They talked for a few more minutes, and then Carson turned onto 5th Avenue. The Chicago Metropolitan Museum of Art wasn’t far now.

  “Do you know where the exhibition is being held,” Erin asked.

  “Yes, the second floor in the northeast gallery.”

  “Ah, the Sackler Wing.”

  “You have been here before?”

  “Yes, the Arts of Japan is one of my favorite galleries. The museum has quite a collection of its own as well as some impressive pieces on loan from private collectors.”

  Carson parked in the large lot and they walked quickly up the steps and into the museum. The cold had flushed Erin’s cheeks and Carson thought she was even lovelier with her color high.

  The exhibit hall had opened at two for a special invitation only showing and now at two-thirty the gallery was very crowded. Carson was happy it wasn’t open to the public or it would have been very unpleasant. As it was, she hardly noticed the press of bodies that would normally leave her feeling somewhat claustrophobic. With Erin beside her, she was comfortable in a crowd for the first time.

  Carson enjoyed art, and Asian art in particular, but sharing it with someone made the experience all the more memorable. Joyce, her best friend and her first employee, was the only one she interacted with on a regular basis so this was a new, and not unwelcome, experience.

  They took their time and looked around the massive hall, taking in the wonders of the displayed works. Since ancient times, the transitory flow of Japan’s rivers and streams had linked to the nature of life and each of the paintings highlighted that element in their beauty and harmonious balance of color. Earth tones combined with bright reds and yellows, to show the artists’ passion for life in general, and nature in particular.

  There were several sculptures displayed on stands throughout the hall and one caught Carson’s eye. She stopped in front of it and stared at the green shape in awe. She saw a small tag at the bottom and leaned to read it.

  Krishna on Garuda , Central Javanese period (ca. 730-ca. 930),

  Second half of the 9th century

  Java, Indonesia

  Bronze; w: 15 7/6 in. (39.2 cm)

  Purchase, Lita Annenberg Hazen Charitable Trust Gift, 1992

  (1992.135)

  The piece was an archetype of symmetry and balance. It radiated strength and beauty, and Carson was struck with wonder. She wanted to trail her fingers lovingly across the contours, but somehow thought security would frown on that.

  “Do you know this piece,” she asked softly, remembering Erin had been to the Asian gallery often.

  “Yes. It’s part of the museum’s permanent collection and one of my personal favorites. Would you like to know the history?”

  Carson nodded mutely, struck by the idea that Erin enjoyed the artwork enough to research its history.

  Erin pointed to the bottom of the sculpture where a humanoid creature squatted with its knees bent. The musculature implied the figure was male, but he had the head of a bird, large wings and a long tail.

  “This figure represents the Hindu god, Garuda. He symbolizes the power of the sun, famous for slaying evil serpents. He’s represented, in art, as a vehicle for Vishnu. He’s squatted because he’s going to leap into flight.”

  “And the figure standing on his shoulders?”

  A much smaller humanoid stood on Garuda’s shoulders with one finger held up in a warning manner. In the other hand was a round disc that appeared to be a weapon of sorts.

  “That’s Krishna, an avatar of Vishnu. He’s holding a war chakra. In the legends Krishna rode out on Garuda’s back to do battle many times.”

  “It is very beautiful.”

  “You have good taste.”

  Carson overlooked the odd tone in Erin’s voice and looked closer at the base of the sculpture.

  “What are the loops on Vishnu’s head and the one beneath Garuda for?”

  Erin was staring at her and Carson only noticed when Erin turned her attention back to the artwork. She didn’t miss the smokier tones of Erin’s voice though when she replied. “This whole thing used to be part of a hanging oil lamp. A chain suspended it to the ceiling from the top and a cup of oil hung from the bottom loop.”

  Carson looked at the piece for a few more moments before she looked at Erin. Warm brown eyes rested on her and the soft expression she found made Carson feel warm. She flushed a little and swallowed nervously.

  “Thank you for explaining it to me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Erin said quietly.

  Erin’s stomach growled suddenly and broke the electric moment. She laughed and Carson smiled.

  “Hungry?”

  “Famished,” Erin admitted. “No lunch.”

  Carson looked at her watch and was surpri
sed that it was so late. Time had flown and most of the other patrons were already gone.

  “It’s almost six. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

  Carson felt a little out of her element inviting the sophisticated woman to share a meal with her and the words sounded more formal than she intended. She didn’t try to take it back though, reluctant for their time together to end.

  Erin delighted her by asking, “Where would you like to go?”

  “I have no preference. Would you like to choose?”

  “How about the RL?”

  “The Ralph Lauren Restaurant? I have never been there.”

  “I adore it, and since it’s only a block from my apartment I go there a lot.”

  “Don’t you get tired of it?”

  Erin shrugged and grinned. “No, not really. They have a core menu, but they also come up with new selections on a daily basis. Sometimes I just get take out and eat on the balcony.”

  “Considering the weather this time of year I suggest we dine in.”

  Erin laughed and led the way out of the museum of art. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Feeling content and balanced and a little warm under Erin’s watchful eye Carson led the way back toward her car.

  ERIN WALKED INTO the RL, very aware of the woman who was only a step away. In the museum, she had gotten to know Carson a little better and was impressed with the person that she sensed lurked beneath the cool, collected façade. Erin had already experienced her compassion and knew Carson was frighteningly brilliant, but the hinted layer of passion drew her unexpectedly.

  The art exhibit had fascinated Carson, her eyes hungrily devouring the selected works until Erin was more interested in watching her than the priceless collection.

  When Carson bent to examine the bronze sculpture, her rapt expression made it impossible for Erin to look away. The buzz in her fingertips at that moment surprised Erin with the sheer intensity, and insight flashed in her mind with the brilliance of the sun. Somehow, in the past two days Carson had completely enchanted her.

  Carson’s surface was always controlled, but glimpses into her soul allowed Erin to see that she possessed hidden depths, currents that would sweep Erin away and carry her into obscurity if she was ever allowed to explore those secrets.

  Standing in the museum, she had watched Carson study the piece and knew she wanted to explore those mysteries. That knowledge stole her voice and when Carson asked her to describe the statue, she could only do so in the lowest registers. Erin fought to keep her voice steady and was grateful when it gained in strength as she explained the sculpture.

  She sensed that Carson was gay. The signs were all there, even though they were subtle. The pocketknife she wielded so casually, the vehicle she chose, and a hundred other little things that Erin couldn’t hope to articulate. What she didn’t know was if Carson could ever be interested in her.

  The moment faded away and her stomach saved her from making a fool of herself in front of anyone that cared to watch.

  When Erin suggested the RL, she deliberately didn’t mention the romantic atmosphere, and refused to dwell on it now. There was nothing wrong with taking a beautiful woman to a romantic restaurant, and enjoying her company during a sensual dinner.

  Oh God, I am in so much trouble, Erin thought.

  They waited briefly for the host to come back from seating someone else. Erin watched as Carson looked around at the warm rich interior featuring mahogany paneling and Persian rugs. Exotic plants gave the place an air of seduction and a huge fireplace roared along one wall. The façade was brick with marble floors. The lights were low and candles flickered on every table.

  “Ah, Ms. Donovan. Welcome.”

  Morris recognized Erin as a regular and smiled when he saw her.

  “Your usual table?”

  Normally she sat at a small table against the wall near the front. Erin liked to see who came in and didn’t appreciate any surprises. In short, she didn’t like to feel exposed. Tonight was different, and she had the sudden desire to keep Carson to herself.

  “I think we’d like a booth in the back tonight.”

  Morris blinked and his eyes drifted briefly to Carson. He smiled. “I know just the place.”

  He led them to a booth at the rear of the restaurant, next to another smaller fireplace. It pleased Erin that he’d positioned them so that they could see the fire, but no other patrons. Seating against the wall meant that no one needed to pass by them, and the only other person they would interact with would be their waiter.

  “This is very nice,” Carson said after Morris walked away.

  She caressed the top of the mahogany table with the palm of her hand and Erin watched the sensual display, carefully trying to keep her expression neutral.

  “I can see why you like it.”

  At that moment, a young man stepped toward them. He smiled as a precursor to his greeting. “Good evening, ladies. My name is Steve and I’ll be your waiter tonight. May I start you off with a beverage?”

  “I’ll have a whiskey and soda,” Erin blurted out and ignored Carson’s startled look. She needed something to slow the thundering of her blood, and get her raging hormones under control. Besides, she wasn’t driving.

  “Very good, ma’am. And what would you like?”

  Steve looked at Carson and Erin saw the interest in his eyes. Carson was a beautiful woman and that fact didn’t appear lost on their waiter, but if Carson noticed, she gave no indication.

  “Water will suffice.”

  “Don’t you get tired of that,” Erin asked as the waiter left. She tried hard not to sound petty or possessive.

  “Tired of what?” Carson realized what she was referencing and flushed. “Oh, Steve? I’ve grown used to it. I know that my unusual height intimidates people. They stare at me a lot, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I get my height from my father.”

  “What? You think he was staring at you because you’re tall for a woman?”

  Carson looked at the tabletop uncomfortably and asked in a small voice, “What else could it be?”

  Erin was astonished. Carson thought people regarded her as an oddity. Maybe that explained why she always tried to project a cold exterior, as some kind of armor plating against the world. Could it really be that she didn’t know what a vision she was?

  The cleft in her proud chin and the sunshine blue of her eyes had enchanted Erin long before she realized that she was attracted to Carson. Her body was strong, lean and feminine. Erin’s eyes rested on the full lips that begged to be kissed.

  “That’s not why he was looking at you, or why anyone else stares at you,” Erin said in a husky voice. She had to be very careful here and not blurt out what she was really thinking. Fortunately, her conditioning as a lawyer bailed her out and she was able to respond easily. “They stare at you because you are a beautiful woman.”

  Erin had barely acknowledged her attraction for Carson, and the feelings were so intense that she couldn’t refrain from trying to ease the pain in Carson’s voice. She didn’t expect or want to jump into anything with the younger woman; she just wanted to assure Carson that she had nothing to be ashamed of.

  Her tone was more casual than she really felt, and came out sounding like a friendly compliment.

  It seemed to make her feel better and Carson smiled tremulously. “Thank you.”

  Steve came back with their drinks and placed them on the table with a flourish. “Have you decided on an appetizer?”

  Erin and Carson exchanged looks. Since she’d never visited the RL before, Carson invited Erin to make their selections. Thrilled at treating her new friend to the restaurant’s famous delicacies, Erin ordered the steamed mussels in fennel with tomato and basil chili flakes. The RL served the mussels in Pernod and Erin knew they were exquisite; the perfect start to what she was sure would be a wonderful meal.

  After the waiter left again, they were both quiet and used the menu to cover the sudden awkwardness. Conversa
tion was sporadic as the server returned for their dinner orders; herb crusted lamb chops in a lamb reduction sauce for Erin and jumbo sea scallops with cucumber and tomato salad for Carson. A white balsamic cream and balsamic reduction covered the scallops.

  Erin selected a wine that would complement both dishes, a Riesling-Kabinett, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer ’00.

  Another man delivered the appetizers even as they placed the order for their entrees. Erin watched Carson’s eyes widen. The mussels overflowed from a large white oval platter. Bits of fennel and basil liberally dusted the surface of the Pernod and the aroma of the steamed mussels was mouthwatering.

  “Something wrong?” Erin smiled waiting to hear Carson’s approval.

  “This looks delicious.”

  Steve handed each of them a small fork and then set small plates on the table in front of them. He placed extra napkins and a bowl of water to the side. The water was to dip their fingers in if they chose to eat the mussels with their hands.

  Erin approved a small sip of the wine and allowed the waiter to fill their glasses. When finally alone, Erin watched Carson raise the glass and take a small sip. Her expression of pleasure made Erin happy that she had selected the expensive wine. It was light with a hint of sweet fruit and no bitter aftertaste.

  “If you think that’s good, try the mussels.” Erin used her fork to draw one of the shellfish onto her tiny plate.

  Carson mimicked her actions but once the appetizer was on her plate she put the fork down and picked up the morsel with her fingers. Erin watched her lift it to her mouth and suck the mussel from the shell. Firelight glistened off Carson’s lips that were wet from the Pernod, and her cheeks had flushed slightly from the wine.

  Erin had never considered eating to be a sexual experience but watching Carson was downright scandalous. Erin ate slowly and watched Carson from beneath lowered lashes.

  She had almost forgotten how it felt to be so attracted to another woman; how every new experience was destined to become a cherished memory, each nuance reflected upon. She had especially forgotten the white-hot flash of desire that tingled in the pit of her stomach and caused the small hairs on her arms to stand.