12 Naughty Days of Christmas: Volume Four
Page 22
“We know. You made that abundantly clear last year. But we have a new offer for you. How would you like to join us in Maui for a week?”
Sara grinned, raising her eyebrows at Lauren.
“Really?” Lauren said.
“Really,” Mom answered.
Sara hooted, “Yes!”
Mom rattled off the dates they were looking at and where they planned to say.
It was the most generous offer her parents had ever made and Lauren knew why. Their oldest friends had been killed that summer in a hiking accident. Ever since then Mom and Dad, usually frugal to the point of parsimony, had adopted YOLO (You Only Live Once) as their personal motto. Mom signed every email and text with it. Every week she relayed fresh stories of how they’d opened the purse strings: Mom had a new car, Dad bought a telescope, they’d had a romantic weekend in Banff, (spare us the details, Lauren and Sara had shouted in unison), they were renovating their kitchen.
So now it was a family trip to Maui. Lauren had never been there. She’d never been anywhere, really. She laughed with delight. “Okay, I’ve put those dates on my calendar. I can’t wait!” she said, imagining herself on a paddle board riding an emerald sea. Beside her was a tall handsome surfer dude, radiating his love for her.
After all, Sara had someone new and exciting in her life. Mom and Dad were more in love than ever.
Surely it was Lauren’s turn for romance.
Excited by the upcoming trip, Sara started to hold Hawaiian-themed parties. Every Saturday night, friends gathered in her apartment to share what they considered the best parts of the islands: sweet tropical drinks and skimpy beachwear.
At one of these parties Ashley from Sara’s dance fit class arrived on the arm of a handsome dark stranger, Richard. The moment he walked in, a charge of electricity ran down Lauren’s spine. Trying to ignore her own reaction, she went to the kitchen and picked up a platter of shrimp skewers. As she stopped and offered them to guests, her eyes kept sliding back to him, an involuntary reflex to beauty. Richard’s body-hugging tee shirt showed off his sculptured abs. His neatly trimmed beard was as dark as his thick, unruly hair.
He ignored Ashley as he talked to another couple about motorcycles and road trips. The muscles in his arms rippled as he gestured. Even as she admired him, Lauren resigned herself to the fact that she’d met another HDBU: highly desirable but unsuitable. He had two strikes against him. First, she knew nothing about motorcycles. Second, he was part of a couple. That meant hands off.
Still, she couldn’t ignore the flare of heat that burned through her when Richard raked her body with his ice blue eyes. He asked, “What about you, Lauren? Ever wanted to hop on a motorbike and ride into the sunset?”
The intimacy in his deep, raspy voice suggested that he was aware that she’d been checking him out. It said that he knew she’d been contemplating running her fingers through that thick hair or over his ripped chest. From his side, hanging on tighter than a fifth limb, Ashley glared at Lauren.
Shocked, partly because he knew her name and partly because he’d caught her staring, Lauren fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t seem dismissive. “I never really thought about it.”
“You should.” His smile had a touch of wolf in it. “You’d look great in leathers.” He sunk his dazzling teeth into a fat shrimp, all the while locking his eyes on hers. For a fleeting second, Lauren imagined his wide full lips on her neck. To her horror, she felt herself blush.
Beside him, Ashley straightened her shoulders while sucking noisily on the straw in her Blue Hawaiian. She moved in front of Richard, blocking his eye contact with Lauren. Dangling her glass in front of his face she said, “Baby, I’m awful thirsty. Do you think I could have another one of these?”
Richard took her glass without looking at her. As he stepped toward the kitchen, he winked at Lauren. Something in the way he moved touched her where she’d never been touched before. Damp, tangled feelings shivered over her.
This is wrong, she reminded herself. He’s here with another girl. Lauren set her tray on the dining room table and stepped out on the balcony to collect herself. Even though it was early October, the evening was warm.
She leaned over the balcony, looking down at the small city that spread below her. People were coming and going, stopping at bars and restaurants, laughing, sharing dreams and building futures together. She wasn’t even sharing Saturday morning coffee with Sara anymore. That had become Sara’s time to sleep in with Terence Zhang, the love of her life and maker of killer Mai Tais. Sara and Terence spent Saturday afternoons shopping for the weekly parties.
Lauren sighed, wondering where Mr. Right was hiding.
Conversation drifted to her from Sara’s open bedroom window.
“You brought me in here to smoke weed?” Richard’s raspy voice was unmistakable. “You know I don’t touch that crap.”
“C’mon. Have some fun.” Ashley spoke in a little girl voice.
Silence followed.
“I said no,” Richard snapped.
“Maybe I just need a spanking to make me behave.” She giggled.
He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. “You better be careful what you wish for. If I ever decide to spank you, you won’t forget it in a hurry.”
With the last words, his voice became steely, cold, and devastatingly sexy. Lauren’s pussy clenched at the sound of his restrained power.
“Ha! You just try to spank me!” Ashley’s voice was sassy now, flirtatious. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
Her words were followed by the sound of a door slamming. A second later Ashley, an overcoat draped across her shoulders, raced out the front door. Following close behind was Richard, slipping on a black leather jacket as he went.
The Lonely Hunter
Lauren stayed late, hoping Richard and Ashley might come back, but they didn’t. She helped Sara and Terence clean the apartment before she headed back to her own place down the hall. As she left, the two of them were on their way to bed. They looked like a single two-headed animal with four hands sliding and touching everywhere.
She lay awake for hours, her single status troubling her more than ever. She needed to meet someone soon. The way Richard had flirted with her had fired up desires she’d kept hidden for ages. His comment about spanking had revived Lauren’s secret fantasy of being turned over a man’s knee. The thought of Richard with his muscular arms and broad shoulders, leading her into a bedroom for a paddling made her pulse race. She pictured herself, pressed down on his strong thighs. She could almost feel his long, square-tipped fingers smacking her bottom, not too hard, while she begged him to stop.
After a couple of hours of ragged sleep, Lauren kicked the covers off, lying for a few moments in the inky greyness of pre-dawn light. She needed to get a life beyond work, exercise and binge-watching whatever TV show captured her interest that week.
She was twenty-seven years old, healthy, and a lawyer with a good firm. Like her sister Sara, she was tall, long legged, with a curvaceous figure. Sara and she, with their elbow-length brown hair, hazel eyes, and perfect, straight teeth, were sometimes mistaken for twins. The main difference was that Sara always had dates to choose from while Lauren couldn’t remember the last time a guy had asked her out.
Lauren could remember the last time she’d asked a guy out. Back in Calgary, she’d taken three days to build the courage to ask Antony Jacobson out for lunch. They’d met at a Super Bowl party and her girlfriend told her he was single. When she finally mustered the courage to call him, he said firmly that he was involved with someone. He was kind and well-mannered but she’d felt humiliated, undesirable.
So she’d moved to the coast, footloose and fancy free, which was an old-fashioned way of saying single. Probably forever. Normally she didn’t mind. But meeting Richard had opened an old wound, one she tried to pretend didn’t exist, loneliness.
His smile and wink had sent her emotions cartwheeling and her blood pounding.
If she couldn’t
have him, maybe she’d find someone else like him. Maybe someone else would admire her in motorcycle leathers. Wrapping herself in her bathrobe, she picked up her iPad and settled down on her living room sofa. Outside a flock of Canada geese, in a perfect V formation, flew over the treetops, on their way south. Winter was coming. She sure didn’t want to spend the Christmas season showing up single at all the parties.
She typed motorcycle clothes female into her browser. Dozens of pictures of women in leather catsuits made her breath hitch. She could look like that. Richard was right. Women in head-to-foot leather were sexy.
Deciding she’d look like a poser if she just got the clothes without the bike, she searched for new rider training in the area. There was one riding school offering fall classes. Before she could change her mind, she sent them an email, asking about their next course. Figuring no one would answer her for another couple of hours, she pulled on jeans, tee shirt, and a denim jacket and headed to the office.
It was a half hour walk to the old Arts & Craft mansion that Holmes, Hickock and Singh had renovated for their business needs. Lauren walked her usual route in record time, absorbed by the idea of herself on a motorbike.
The Voice of Experience
Lauren sat down at her desk and opened the Madden trust document that she’d been working on for the last six months. It was her most important file because she was the one who’d brought eighty-five-year-old Regina Pauline Madden into the firm as a client.
Before she became a major client, Regina was Lauren’s first good friend in the city. They’d met at the Moss Street Farmers Market in the spring. Regina’s arms had been loaded with bags of fresh produce when someone had knocked her from behind as she went to pay for a bunch of flowers. Coins flew in every direction. Flowers scattered. Cherry tomatoes rolled underfoot. Lauren crouched down and collected every single dime and nickel. Then she picked up the flowers and the uncrushed tomatoes.
“Let me buy you a cup of coffee to say thanks.” Regina brushed a strand of long grey hair out of her eyes.
Lauren welcomed the excuse to delay arriving at the office. When she learned that Regina had walked to the market from her downtown condo, and had planned to take a taxi home, she offered to drive her after coffee. They stowed their purchases in the trunk of Lauren’s little red Versa. When she saw that Regina had unloaded everything but her handbag and a brown leather satchel that was slung over her shoulder, she asked if Regina wanted to leave the brown bag behind.
Regina said no, tucking the satchel under her arm. “This was my mother’s. I don’t go anywhere without it. No one touches it but me.”
Lauren nodded, respecting Regina’s wishes but surprised that anyone would weigh themselves down so heavily. Regina was old; Lauren decided she probably needed to carry around a lot of medications.
They went to a nearby coffee shop where Regina settled into a chair by the window. Lauren fetched two Americanos, both topped with cream. When she sat down, she began on neutral ground. “Isn’t spring lovely in Victoria?”
Regina shook her head. “I think we can do better than platitudes about the weather. So, tell me, why is a beautiful young woman like you shopping by herself on Saturday morning?”
Lauren grinned. “I could ask you the same question. Only I’d have to take out the young part.”
Regina laughed, deep and throaty. “You don’t mince words.” She placed a warm, veiny hand over Lauren’s. “You and I are going to be great friends.”
Setting her coffee cup on the table, Regina said, “Still, you are young, and this is the season for love. On a morning like this, you should be in someone’s arms, someone who makes love to you so passionately you forget your own name.”
Lauren stiffened at the directness of Regina’s suggestion, but smiled. The old woman was a pleasant change from the too-polite people who populated Lauren’s life. It was quickly evident that Regina, like Lauren, was a bit lonely.
With little encouragement, Regina launched into memories from her own young womanhood. She had more stories than Scheherazade and they came out in a blizzard of words and images. All of them revolved around money, sex, and the often brutal realities of being a strong woman in patriarchal times.
“I’m not slowing down now.” Regina tipped back the last of her coffee. “Not for anyone. But you, my dear, have barely got started. How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven,” Lauren admitted, feeling simple and inexperienced, childlike even. She didn’t want to talk about herself. She wanted to hear more about Regina. She loved listening to the woman almost as much as she enjoyed looking at her. Regina had long grey hair that curled over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a black turtleneck topped with a bold necklace made of four-inch X’s, set in black stone and dotted with small diamonds. Instead of the tidy slacks and discrete shoes so many women of her age favored, Regina wore sleek black leggings tucked into red ankle boots with kitten heels.
When Regina decided at last that she’d shared enough for one day, she told Lauren she could drive her home. It was a command, not a request.
“You’ll find I’m very bossy,” Regina said without a trace of apology. “Some people find me quite overbearing.”
“I don’t,” Lauren answered, unlocking Regina’s door for her.
“No, you don’t,” Regina said, as if this fact was only true if she repeated it. “But you are as virginal as a girl from a convent.” Regina added as another statement of fact. “You need to do something about that. Take risks, find adventure, while you’re still young.”
Lauren reined in her anger as she walked to her side of the car. When she slid into the driver’s seat she said, “I’m not really that innocent. I’ve had a couple of lovers. I’ve even asked out a man who said no.” She added that last detail to impress Regina with her audacity.
“Tell me about that.” Regina twisted the rearview mirror to freshen her lipstick. “What are you waiting for? Drive.”
“I don’t know where you live.”
Regina named a waterfront address. Lauren had never been to the Wharf Street condominiums in the old nineteenth century building. It was a luxury development, finished less than a year ago. The cheapest apartments started at a million dollars.
“Take the scenic route along Dallas Road,” Regina said. “No point in living in this gorgeous city if we don’t enjoy it whenever we can, is there?”
As they drove, Lauren shared some of her most personal stories with Regina. She included the mortifying moment when Antony Jacobson, a man she was sure liked her, refused to go out with her.
“I’m glad you tried,” Regina said. “Disappointments and refusals build character, make you stronger. After all, you don’t want to be a mild-mannered junior lawyer for the rest of your life, do you?”
Lauren shook her head.
Regina sighed as they turned onto the waterfront drive. “You need to do something to challenge yourself at least once a month. What’s your next big adventure, for instance?”
Lauren thought for a moment. “My sister’s moving out to the coast next week. I’m looking forward to that.”
“That’s not an adventure. That’s another safety net.” Regina clicked her tongue as though admonishing a preschooler. “You need excitement in your life. You’re young and beautiful and that passes quickly. You need to enjoy each phase of your life to its fullest.”
By the time she dropped Regina at her apartment building, Lauren felt valued and important. Someone had listened to her, even heard the things she didn’t say, for the first time in years. She liked Regina very much.
Despite their easy rapport, Lauren was unprepared for the phone call the following Monday.
“I wanted to thank you again for helping me when other people just pushed past.” Regina said.
“My pleasure.”
“However, that’s not the reason I’m calling.” Regina paused for a few beats. “I’m wondering if your firm could take on a new client?”
“I’m su
re they could. Anyone in particular?”
“Me, of course.” There it was again, that rumbling laugh that made Lauren smile.
That was how it all started. After only a few months with Holmes, Hickock and Singh, Lauren had landed a new client, a client who was one of the wealthiest women in the city. She told Lauren that she’d liked her the minute they met. Regina had a gift for picking the right person for a job. She was sure that Lauren was the right person to be her lawyer.
At their first appointment, Regina laid out her main concern. “My will is twenty years out of date. It was set up to exclude my daughter.” She lowered her voice. “Jody Anne has a severe substance abuse problem. While I don’t mind footing the bills for her rehab, I worry about what she’d do with a significant amount of money.”
Regina stirred her coffee. “And she has children, two sons from two different fathers. She always refused to let me see them or be part of their lives so I disinherited them too.” She bit her lip. “The boys were born in different cities. Jody could never stay in one place. For the longest time, I was happy not to think about them at all.”
“What changed?” Lauren asked.
“This spring my oldest grandson got in touch with me. Jody was living on the street and had been badly assaulted. He didn’t have the money for rehab and he reached out to me in desperation. Of course, I made sure she has the best care. She’s in a top residential facility now that’s more like a spa than a health clinic. The bonus is I’ve met both my grandsons now and I’d like to make provisions for them in my estate.”
It was Lauren’s job to set up a trust that would outlive Regina, ensuring that none of her family was ever destitute, but also preventing them from landing a windfall. Regina also supported a long list of charities that needed updating. She tended to change her mind from week to week about what she wanted done with the bulk of her fortune.
Several months after they met, Lauren finally learned what Regina kept in the leather satchel that seemed surgically attached to her; it was her will. It was her decades-old will and dozens of pages of hand-written codicils, witnessed by whoever was on hand. Lauren shuddered to think of the legal battle that would ensue if Regina were to pass away while her will was in that haphazard state. It could be a career file for one lawyer, but that wasn’t where Lauren wanted to spend her professional life.