“I came back to give you one more chance to change your mind.”
Della rose, grinned, a thrill rippled through her. “What time?”
14
Steven arrived at Della’s apartment at nine sharp, all smiles. The winner. He had finally worn her down with all his antics. With a kiss on the cheek, he whisked her away in his forest-green ‘56 Thunderbird to the Santa Monica airport.
“You’re one sexy lady in those jeans.”
“Ditto.” She winked, then mentally chastised herself for flirting.
She could hardly get a word in edgewise for all his chatter about how he’d broken down her barriers. He said he would show her how to have a good time without strings, to free herself from the shackles of work, her fear of his youth, and his relationship to her boss.
Every word sounded familiar.
The Santa Ana wind huffed and puffed its way across the L.A. basin, keeping the gray stuff out to sea.
She was breaking a vow, stepping into trouble, doomed to spend the entire day fighting the feelings that had gnawed at her since she met Steven at her thirtieth birthday party.
At the airport, he ran around the small car to help her out. “Come on, let's get going or we’ll never get to Big Bear.”
“I’m dancing as fast as I can.” She frowned. This guy was so darned cute. “Be cool, be cool,” she muttered over and over, trailing behind him.
“What are you saying?” he said over his shoulder.
“I said, de plane’s cool, de plane’s cool.” A spit-polished fire-engine red, single engine Cessna sat anchored to the tarmac with a rope, readied for flight, which he assured her he had taken care of himself prior to picking her up. Lighten up, give the guy a break, she muttered under her breath. He had sent her an entire flower shop of flowers, been supportive of her at work. He’d been a perfect gentleman, even though he was obviously as horny as a sailor on leave.
He stopped, turned, and took her hand to help her up. Their eyes locked, and her breath caught in her throat. Uh-oh. Then, after an eternal moment, his gaze broke away from hers and he helped her up into the leather upholstered four-seater. She stared at the complicated-looking control panel, overwhelmed that Steven knew how to take this little bird up into the sky and fly them over the City of Angels to the top of a mountain for lunch. A new experience for the little lady from the down side of L.A.
If only Lillian could see her now!
Della was as excited as a little girl on her first trip to the fair as Steven made his way around the front of the plane. He scanned the tires, made a few other last-minute checks before climbing in himself.
If she put her insecurities aside, she’d feel good, like the time when she lived a carefree and spontaneous life. She must keep in mind this was merely an outing with a friend.
While he fiddled with the controls, she admired his confidence, how in charge he was of everything he touched. She must remember to make sure he didn’t touch her. Any woman would want this hunk, no matter what her age. Thank God, she wasn’t going to have a relationship with him. She’d be in a perpetual state of jealousy every waking moment of the day, maybe even while she slept. No one who looked as good as he did could be faithful.
Relaxing, she sighed. She ran her hand over the soft leather-scented seat. A hot breeze wafted through the cabin until he reached across her chest, pulled her window shut and snapped the lock into place. He glanced over his arm into her eyes and grinned. “Excuse me. I’m not being fresh,” he said. The intensity of his gaze and his natural masculine scent stirred her.
A distant voice crackled over the radio, giving Steven his clearance. He turned half the knobs and pushed most of the buttons, turning over the engine. The propeller rolled over, slowly at first; the engine sputtered, then the propeller gathered speed until it was a blur and the engine purred like a contented cat. He taxied onto the runway and in moments, they lifted off. Her stomach lurched. The plane rocked lightly in the heavy winds until they were high enough and smoothed out into a cloudless sky of pure azure.
“I feel good!” he shouted over the din of the engine. He reached over and splayed his long fingers on her thigh. She dropped hers on top of his to remove it, but left his hand, relishing its size and strength. “I thought you were going to push me away.”
“I was.”
He gazed into her eyes, saying nothing, just exuding warmth and trust. Something in his dark eyes made her want to open up and tell him every secret she had ever had. He possessed some innate quality, like Wes, that made her want to confide in him.
He lightened the mood, told jokes, a few stories about his past and his dreams. “I don’t want to take Dad’s place in the company. Does that shock you?”
“No, but I find it hard to understand. I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else.”
“I’ve had it too easy. My car, this plane, they’re all toys. I can live without them.” He turned on the automatic pilot, shifted his weight on one leg and held her hands. “I grew up on Perry Mason and Public Defender reruns. My dream is in the courtroom.” His eyes shimmered with excitement. “Of course, I want to save the world, too. Put all those bad guys away, make the world a safer place for my kids.”
Della turned to face the city below, spread out as far as the eye could see, yet so small and insignificant compared to her world right now. Steven wasn’t just another rich kid. He had substance. His wanting kids sent a jolt through her, though. Why? It was perfectly natural. He was twenty-five. He’d certainly marry one day, have a family. Fantasizing, she saw herself as the mother of his kids, then promptly shook off the thought.
“Did I say something wrong? You look troubled.” He touched her cheek, rubbed it gently. “I think we’re getting too heavy.” He turned his attention back to flying, turned off automatic pilot and lifted into higher airspace. “There’s Big Bear.” He pointed straight ahead.
They cruised down, a smooth landing on the single runway designed for small aircraft. While he rented a car, she remained outside and drew in deep breaths of fresh mountain air blowing off the lake.
Steven drove them directly to the Big Bear Lodge. From there, he led her on a hike that soon had her panting, her calf muscles aching. They went up a winding path carved beneath towering pines to a secluded spot.
“I’ve got to stop,” she begged. “Show mercy! My legs are killing me.”
“This okay?”
“Perfect.” She sat on a bed of dried pine needles and leaned back against a very large, old tree.
He sat beside her, brushing her arm with his. Her skin tingled. She didn't like it one little bit.
“I said we’d talk business. So, here goes. You pulled off a real coup yesterday. My dad was proud of you. I could see it in his eyes.”
“How about you?”
“You blew me away. Never saw a woman operate like you. In New York, they’d call it chutzpah. Where did you learn to handle those tough guys like you do?”
She laughed. “The streets.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious.” She sat silent for a moment, her heart pounding because she wanted to tell Steven about her past. He had the ability to bring out the honesty in her. To be free of her lie with someone she respected and who cared for her, a friend, became paramount. If she told someone once, perhaps she could do it again and again until everyone knew the real Della Garland, and that she wasn’t any different from the Della whose dad was a cop who died in the line of duty and whose mother was living in Europe. She could be free of the Jack Davises of the world.
Instinctively, she trusted Steven to keep her secret until she gathered the courage to step out into the open herself. They were connected on a level she didn’t understand, connected in some inexplicable way.
She wrapped her arms around her knees, and to avoid his gaze, she stared down at the thick crust of golden pine needles beneath her. In a near whisper, she started from the beginning: her conception, her mother’s prostitution, her lonely
childhood, how Lillian had forced her out on her own so she wouldn’t turn out as Lillian had, how they maintained a distant, secretive relationship, and that she didn’t understand why she was so hell-bent on proving herself to Lillian. She paused, held her breath, then said, “There’s something I’ve only told a few, when I couldn’t find a job and I needed money, I prostituted twice. It came naturally–I’d lived with it all my life. On my second try, I got busted. I have a record.” She gazed at him, looking for some flicker of disgust in his eyes, but there was none. All she saw was compassion. He touched her arm with soft, warm fingers. “That’s when Lillian sent me away. She was afraid I would turn out just like her.”
Steven listened, touching her arm or stroking her hair to comfort her, reassure her. “How old were you when you were arrested?”
“Seventeen. Why?”
“Because I might be able to do something about that. Let me look into it.”
He stopped her when she started to talk about her marriages.
“I heard about those from my mother, way back when. Sorry.”
“Me, too.”
When she finished, her cheeks stained with tears. He took her in his arms and held her without saying a word.
“There; now you know who Della Garland really is. Outside of Jack Davis and my mother, you’re the only one who knows.”
“It’ll go with me to my grave, if that’s what you want.”
She pulled free, took his hands. “I’d like to be free of it, but I don’t know how to go about it. I’m in too deep. I feel that if everyone knew, I wouldn’t be respected. My future would be in jeopardy. That’s why Jack Davis thinks he has me over a barrel.”
“I got that. By the way, my dad is the last person on earth who’d judge you. His past matches yours tit for tat, except maybe for the prostitution.” He grinned. “He’d love you for it.” Steven picked up a pine needle, put it between his lips and rolled it around in his mouth. “I love you for it. You’ve got grit. Maybe between the two of us, we can dig you out of this hole.”
“If there’s any digging to be done, I’m doing it alone. I got into this by myself, I’m going to get out by myself.”
She looked into his eyes and knew she could trust him. He took her in his arms and hugged her, smothered her face with kisses. “Della, we can have a great time together. Let’s play.”
Freeing herself from his grasp, she stood. “Play, huh? Hmm, I wonder if I’m capable of such a game.”
He bolted to his feet. “Of course you are. One of those long-lasting, beautiful love affairs with an unhappy ending. Aren’t those the kind that make great novels and movies? Honey, life is one day at a time. Haven’t you learned that?”
“I can’t. I don’t know how to do that. What if we fall too deeply in love and we can’t do anything about it? Then what? Do like Romeo and Juliet?” She laughed. “And our ages–”
“You’re only five years older than I. When you’re forty-five, I’ll be forty.” He pulled her close. “The older we get, the closer we come to each other. Now, maybe when you were twenty and I was fifteen, it might not have been such a good thing. Look,” he grabbed a clump of his hair, “I’ve got gray already. I’m even getting crow’s feet. I could be a mess in ten years.”
“Yeah, like men look a mess when they get older. Tell that to the women of the Western world. Besides, you’re going back to New York soon.”
“I’m in charge of where and when I go.”
“Discussion over.” She took his hand and started pulling him. “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
They strolled hand in hand down the winding path. “You’re more fascinating to me now than you were before. You’ve got character. I would have been disappointed if you were one of those spoiled rich girls. Somehow, I knew you weren’t. I’d never have been attracted to you.”
“You’re in lust.”
“Call it whatever you like. I know what I feel for you is something brand new to me. Whatever it is, I like it.”
The gentle wind whistled through the pines, emulating the surf. An aching emptiness swelled when she remembered Lillian’s counsel: see the ending from the beginning. She mustn’t let this man get under her skin. No siree-bob. She would do her damnedest to break the spell he was trying to weave. Having been around the track a few times, she knew the old eyeball-fucking routine; better yet, how to get out of it.
The sound of thunder rose from the north, and the sky darkened as quickly as if someone had pulled the shades in a sunny room. “What’s going on?” she said.
“The mountains are talking to us, telling us they do what they want, when they want. Just like we should do.” He squeezed her hand, pulling her into a run.
Rain pelted them from the thick dark clouds above. A cold wind blew, shifting autumn leaves and dead pine needles. They ran, with no shield against the rain, to the small lodge where Steven had planned their lunch. It was dark.
“No food,” he said. “I guess we can huddle up here until the rain stops. Then fly home and have dinner someplace nice in L.A. Now, this is romantic,” Steven murmured. “I couldn’t have ordered up anything better.”
“I don’t want romance,” she lied. “I want the rain to stop and the sun to shine.”
“Take advantage of the negative. When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.”
“Old saying. Gotcha.”
“Hot damn, I slipped! Actually, I think this is perfect. You and me, up on a mountain, huddled under an awning, keeping each other warm. What more could we ask for?”
“You’re incorrigible.”
The skies cleared. They strolled out onto a terrace next to the lake. The storm left as suddenly as it had come in. The early evening sky darkened.
He led her to a table, where they sat and stared at a sailboat docking. “I wouldn’t mind having that,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“I thought you were all for austerity.”
“Like I said, they’re just toys. As long as they don’t get in the way of what I’m doing, I want them. That’s human, don’t you think? But I have to earn them myself.”
“I suppose you earned that plane, too?”
“No,” he said. “Well, sort of. My first plane was a gift for my sixteenth birthday. I traded it in for this one. I make the payments.”
Having an affair with someone who would one day walk away and leave her was just plain dumb. Steven had said one day at a time, and he was a wise young man. But there was Wes, her job, and–oh, God–Carrie Gates. Queen bitch. If she got wind of anything going on between the Wicked Witch of the West and her precious son, she’d have her sacked with a flick of her wrist.
“You’re thinking. Stop it. It’ll get you in trouble.” He kissed her forehead.
“Thanks, I needed that.”
He made her feel good enough to think about sneaking in a little affair with this handsome, loving man, and right under Godzilla’s nose, if you please. For a moment, she felt like the old Della. Life was too short to worry about every turn in the road. Steven had said all along they were just going to have fun, and she’d missed having a man around.
Steven took her hand. “Time to head back. We’ll be over the city at the right time for the most spectacular view you’ve ever seen in your life.”
Back in the air, she looped her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. Twinkling stars overhead were bigger and brighter than she’d ever seen them. The next few months could be interesting, tagging along with this lovely man. Taking weekend trips to exotic places in his plane–and if he bought a boat, sailing might be fun, too. What she liked best was the admiration shining in his dark, mysterious eyes.
As soon as they were out of the mountain range, he headed out to sea.
“Where are we going?”
“I thought it might be nice to fly over the Pacific for a while.” He radioed the control tower for a clearance. He replaced the hand set, turned to her and smiled. “I'm going to put this baby on autopilot. T
hen, we're going to stretch out in the back seat and start playing.”
She bolted from his shoulder. “What?”
“I wanna make love to you, and what better place than here? Not quite the mile-high club, but close.”
“You're insane! I've suspected it, but now I know.”
“No more than you. You'll love it. Leave everything to me.”
“Steven, no. You want me to screw with no pilot? I don’t think so.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“We'll go down together, then. Wouldn’t that be romantic? See, Romeo and Juliet.”
She snapped her jaw shut.
“I've got us in a quiet lane. You'll be perfectly safe.”
Once he had everything set on auto-pilot, he eased his way between the two front seats, then helped her into the back.
“This makes me very nervous,” she said.
“That's the second time today. Now, you sit back, relax in my arms, trust me. You have all day, why not now? Let me make this the most enjoyable flight of your life.”
“You can try.”
“I have us circling over the ocean. There’s no air traffic. Believe me, it's safe. I wouldn't put our lives in jeopardy.”
“Your experience is showing. How many times have you done this?” Not wanting to hear the gory details, she peeked out the window at the darkness below.
“This isn’t something I do with just anyone,” he said. “It's reserved for someone special, and that’s you.” He pulled her into his arms. “Now, loosen up. This is only the beginning of what will be the most exciting adventure either of us have ever had.”
The tremor in his voice relaxed her. She settled herself into the crook of his arm. He stroked the side of her face, pushed her hair back over her ear and kissed her cheek. Slowly, he brushed his lips down onto her mouth. The tenderness and softness of his lips sent shivers through her. The taste of him was sweet, a sweetness she’d never forget as long as she lived. She arched against him. He groaned. His hand slid down to her waist. He pulled her blouse out from her jeans, slipped it over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He gasped, nuzzled his nose between her breasts and ran his finger around her navel.
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