by Eva Sloan
This caught her attention.
The next few words whizzed by Susan without any comprehension, but she heard, “So the board already made their decision?”
Susan’s heart thumped hard against her chest. She shouldn’t be hearing this. It was unethical, possibly illegal. But she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stand back and listen to the gossiping secretaries. She recognized one of them from the city council meeting. The blonde with the extremely long neck and even longer legs.
“Well, not officially. They can’t say that until the bids have all gone through accounting and logistical testing.” The blonde leaned in to the other secretary and said in a confidential voice, “But the Maestro is in love with the design from Costa Consortium.”
Susan’s heart stopped beating, and her blood turned cold. But Maestro Rossi doesn’t have the final say!
“The old goat really has that much clout?”
The blonde smiled slyly. “You’d be surprised. The man gets whatever he wants, if you get my meaning.”
The other secretary blushed and both women started giggling. “You are a complete slut! And he’s sooo old.”
Wistfully the city council secretary fanned herself with her hand. “Yeah, but he’s Italian, and what he can do with just his fingers...”
“You’re disgusting.”
The elevator stopped. The two secretaries moved like feral cats out the sliding doors and through the lobby. Susan stood, still too stunned to move or to think, or to even breathe. The door closed, and she fell back against the chrome paneling of the elevator.
Might as well be a pine box. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.
The elevator stayed perfectly still for over a minute. The whole time Susan kept telling herself, No, no, no.
The doors slid open again and the setting sun was shining off the highly polished floor of the lobby. A woman in a tank top and shorts, with an iPod in her ears, wrestled a large potted fern into the elevator, instantly making the box feel like a claustrophobic jungle.
Susan slipped out through the flora and staggered into the light. The world had never looked so bright, or so cruel.
~*~
Kevin stood outside Leo and Kate’s Italian Ristorante a half an hour, pacing, waiting for Susan. It had just rained, and his shoes made strange scuffing sounds every time he had to turn around. He was pacing because he was nervous, not because he was waiting. He was nervous because Susan was going to try and seduce him again. That was a given, after the vamp getup the night before, and the lust he’d seen in her eyes before she’d gotten all wasted.
He wasn’t up for this. And if that was all she wanted from him, she could forget it.
Yet he was there, waiting exactly where she’d told him to wait, like an obedient dog. Or maybe an obedient sex slave.
No, no. He would not let that happen again. That part was over. Over. For good.
But the bulge in Kevin’s breast pocket--the ring in its little box--reminded him that part of him had hope. Had hope that Susan would look at him differently. He remembered the way she’d looked at him in Cancun. It hadn’t been just sex. It had been a whole lot more. It was almost...
He shook the thought out of his head. Thunder chorused in the distance. More rain...
Fifteen minutes later Kevin had called both Susan’s home phone and her cell, and had texted her. No answer to any of it. He caught a cab over to her place, part of him worried that he couldn’t get a hold of her, part of him pissed that she’d stood him up, but there was a part that thought it was all some game. Susan had never seemed like the game playing type, but who’s to say what effect having your groom stand you up on your wedding day can have.
If it was a game, a trick to get him alone in her apartment, to try to get him back in her bed--what would it be like to have her in her own bed?--he wouldn’t fall for it, he wouldn’t be her sex toy.
But again...
No. He would find Susan, make sure she was okay, and he’d head back to his hotel room, to a nice, long, cold shower.
When the cab pulled up to Susan’s apartment building the lights of her apartment were dark. Kevin jumped out of the cab and jogged up the outside steps to the building. He rang her buzzer, then a few seconds later rang it again. Still no answer. He rang that stupid buzzer over and over again.
He started to think bad thoughts. What if she’s hurt or sick? There could’ve been a break in, or a leaky gas valve, or she could’ve fallen trying to walk in another pair of those ridiculous high heels.
Kevin started ringing all the apartments, a trick he’d seen in a movie once. There were a dozen voices squawking at him, cutting in and out like a radio. Then he heard the click of the security door. He slid inside the entry hall and bolted up the stairs. His heart was beating hard, and his breathing was like he’d run a marathon. He was at Susan’s door, beating on it, calling out her name, before he even realized he was doing it. Still no answer.
He was just about to take his shoulder to the door and break it down when he heard the door across the hall open with some clicks, a whine, and some metallic scratching. A woman who looked to be in her forties stood there wearing a blood red silk robe, open wide to reveal a matching lace negligee. She held a twenty dollar bill between her red manicured fingers. When she saw Kevin, her ruby lips stiffened into a hard line and she hastily pulled the robe around her, suddenly modest.
“Jesus.” She tried to laugh, but she was obviously too stunned to play the scene off. “I thought you were the delivery man.”
Kevin shook his head. He could already picture the scene, especially the extra tip she would give the delivery guy.
“Pizza?” Kevin asked, not really knowing what else to say.
“Chinese.” The woman blushed as she looked down the hall and back to Kevin. “You looking for Susan?”
“Yes!” Kevin sounded too damn excited. The woman probably thought he was some demented stalker. “I mean, we were supposed to meet about an hour ago.”
“Well, I saw her lugging some suitcases down the stairs about two hours ago. Said she had to get away.”
Luggage? Had to get away? What the hell was happening?
Kevin thanked the woman in red and trudged down the hall. How could Susan want to see him one minute, then run away, with luggage, the next? It didn’t make any sense. Of course, she’d stopped making sense to Kevin six months ago.
But there was someone who understood Susan perfectly, better than anyone else. Kevin pulled out his cellphone and scrolled through his contacts until he found her name. He hadn’t called since Cancun, and he’d forgotten he’d put it under Evil Bitch Monster of Death instead of her name. Liz answered on the third ring.
~*~
Liz had just had energetic, if not downright mind bending, sex with a hot bartender she’d met a couple hours prior. He was twenty-three, Russian or something close, and his accent had been so thick she could hardly understand him. But his face had been handsome, not beautiful, the face of a man, and his hands had been the hands of a man. Strong and thick, and they’d know exactly what they were doing as he pulled her clothing off without ripping or popping one of her seams or buttons. And when he’d gotten naked, his body had been to die for. His manhood had not only taken Liz’s breath away, but had driven her to yelling out in orgasmic ecstasy for well over an hour.
He’d written his number on a McDonald’s receipt and handed it to her, with a deep, delicious kiss and a few dirty sounding words. Liz hadn’t the faintest idea what they meant. He stepped into his jeans and hopped as he pulled them up; his firm young body jiggled, as did his still huge, yet sated penis.
And that’s when Liz’s cellphone rang. Loser by Beck shrieked from the phone. She’d forgotten that she’d put that as Kevin’s personal ring tone.
She rolled her eyes and reached for the phone, watching the hot bartender walk out of her apartment with his t-shirt draped over his shoulder. She licked her lips, pushed away the warm, pul
sing feeling the sight of him evoked in her, then answered the phone.
“So do you need to be talked down from a suicide attempt, or do you two need a priest?”
She heard Kevin take a few breaths. “What?”
“Because if you’re on top of a building or standing out on a ledge somewhere, I don’t do heights.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I called because Susan was supposed to meet me for dinner, she didn’t show, and now her neighbor told me she left a few hours ago with suitcases in her hands.”
“Boy, Kev, you should’ve been a homicide detective. You’re both fast and efficient.” She chuckled. “You drive the girl away, then find out the how, where and when before the night’s out.”
“Liz.”
“But do you know the why?”
“The why?”
“Yeah, Sherlock, the reason why she packed her bags and left.”
“No. I don’t know the why.”
“Well, Kevin, I was wrong. You’d make a lousy homicide detective. I’ll call around and try to find her. You just take a cold shower and try not to think about her naked too much, okay?”
Liz was sure Kevin was about to tell her to fuck off, but she disconnected before he could.
“A girl’s got a right to be alone with her thoughts,” Liz told herself. “Susan’s got exactly one week.”
Chapter 15
TWO WEEKS ALONE, out in the wilderness, back with nature, in a well-equipped if not posh cabin, should be conducive to sorting things out and making a decision. Should be. But for Susan, every day she spent alone in the woods, made her feel more alone. Instead of sorting out her thoughts, they started swirling out of control until by day fourteen she was considering cutting off all her hair and trekking into the forest to live the remainder of her days as a crazy hermit, ala Gorillas in the Mist. Or more appropriately, Chipmunks in the Trees...in the bush, under the porch, in the walls, knocking on the windows demanding saltine crackers and the last of the unsalted cashews.
She’d been standing on a small cliff overlooking a gorge, trying to imagine herself jumping into it to her death. But the gorge was no more than ten feet deep, maybe fifteen, so it would be her luck she’d just get a broken leg. She’d have to watch out for wolves and mountain lions...probably a herd of ravenous killer chipmunks.
As if she were having a drug induced hallucination, she could see the view from the Virgin Drop. Not just in her mind’s eye, but as if she were there. She could even feel the tropical breeze. She could also feel Kevin walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
Just as the warmth of his body enveloped her, the vivid daydream evaporated, leaving her standing alone, overlooking a bramble infested gorge.
She started back to the cabin, missed her turn, yet managed to correct her course before doing a The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon thing. She was seriously tired by the time she reached the cabin, and from the position of the sun she could tell it was only a little after noon. It was going to be another long day and night without TV. She never realized how much she really did watch TV, even if she didn’t watch a lot of it. Not until its absence left her bored and stir crazy. There weren’t even any good books or magazines, just Field and Stream, Good Housekeeping and the complete works of Agatha Christie.
Susan pushed open the large wooden door and trudged into the cabin, pulling the door shut behind her to ward off the stealthy chipmunks, and turned around to head for the kitchen. Instead she let out a scream and practically jumped right out of her skin.
There on the Naugahyde sofa in the front room sat Liz, a lit cigarette in one hand, a chilled martini in the other. The smoke from her cigarette swirled around her head like a venomous snake. The sight of her was frightening--she looked like the devil.
Susan swallowed her pounding heart and took a deep breath, hand over her chest, just about to lay into Liz for scaring the shit out of her, when Liz beat her to it.
“I’ve been looking for you for a whole week! Do you know I had to call your goddamn mother to find you?”
Susan felt very guilty. She wouldn’t wish a phone call to her mother on even her worst enemy. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry!” Liz sat up and snuffed her cigarette out in a small ceramic bowl Susan’s mother always set out mints in. She stood up and walked over to Susan; at the halfway point Susan started to back up. Liz looked dangerous. More so than usual. It wasn’t long before Liz had her pinned against the front door. “I had to promise her I’d have you married by the end of the year.”
Susan laughed hard, right in Liz’s face. “You didn’t!”
Liz shot Susan a scalding look.
“Oh God, you did.”
“Yeah, and if I fail, Mama Rhodes is going to start working for me in the gallery, to take up the time she would otherwise be spending with her grandchildren.”
Susan lost her smile as a chill ran up her back. “She’s going to move to Chicago?”
“Honey, she was googling real estate brokers as I spoke to her. And you know your father does whatever she wants.”
Susan gulped.
Liz shook her head and knocked back the last of her martini. “I can’t have your mother working for me. I’ll be drinking during working hours.”
“You already do.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be doing it to ease the pain instead of just for fun.”
Susan leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Liz’s. “I’m not getting married, not anytime soon.”
Liz smiled and gave a smoky little laugh. “Then I guess you’re going to have to make an honest woman out of me in Vermont or California, ’cause I’m not spending my days with that woman.”
Both women started laughing.
“A week?” Susan said, squinting at her best friend. “I’ve been gone for two.”
“I know. I was giving you a week to clear your head. I just didn’t know it’d take so long to track your ass down. I certainly didn’t think I’d have to talk to your mother, or drive to the butt-crack of Ohio.”
“My folks have had this place for years, ever since I was a kid.” Susan took a deep breath, looked around the cabin and sighed. “I can’t stand this place. Why did I think I’d figure things out here?”
“You mistook rustic nostalgia for a meditative trip to the day spa. Women have been making that mistake for centuries. Everything a girl needs is right in the city. No reason to wander aimlessly in the freaking woods.”
Susan shrugged. “Maybe I would’ve found the answer getting a facial at Macy’s.”
“Of course not, but you wouldn’t be stuck out here with no television, and no men.”
“It’s the men that are giving me the problems, remember?”
“Man, actually. Just one. And the next time you decide to stand him up for dinner, tell him you’re canceling, and where you’re going, because that man has called me every day, twice a day, since you went missing.”
“So Kevin’s worried?”
Liz’s eyes screamed duh!
“I didn’t mean to stand him up. I was meaning to win him back. You know, seduce him, make him fall back in love with me.”
“Back in love with you? When did he fall out of love with you?”
Susan’s eyes started to burn as she took a rasping breath, her voice coming out more of a sob than anything else. “He said he was over me, that he’d moved on.”
“Yeah, you said that last time. You know he was just lying to you.”
“Lying?”
Liz groaned. “He was trying to save face, or maybe he was trying to convince himself. Whatever it was, he was lying. That man is still crazy about you.”
Susan shook her head. “But you didn’t see the way he was looking at me when he said that. He was so serious.” Susan sucked in a big breath and her next words shook as they fell from her lips. “I’ve never seen him like that before. He wasn’t lying, he’s really over me.” She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill
down her face.
Liz smiled empathetically, then made a show of setting her half full martini glass down on a stand by the door before turning back to Susan. She slapped her in the face, one searing, flashing move, the cracking noise sharp and ruthless. A stinging exploded across Susan’s cheek.
“Snap out of it!” Liz threw up her hands and started to laugh. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry,” she wheezed between laughs. “I’ve just always wanted to go all Moonstruck on someone.”
“You slapped me.” Susan stood there, hand over her cheek, stunned. “You really just slapped me.”
“It was for your own good. All that moaning and whining, I’m shocked I didn’t slap you before this.”
“You freaking slapped me!” Susan started stalking toward Liz. This time it was Liz’s turn to back up, to start to turn in her spike high heels and try to run. But Susan was in a pair of Trainers, and she bounded after Liz, jumping at her and taking her down onto the Naugahyde sofa like a scene from Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.
“Susan!” Liz screamed as Susan tackled her and started tickling her on the sofa. Liz’s arms wrapped around her torso, trying to keep Susan’s hands from her sensitive ribs. Her stiletto clad feet convulsed and shook, trying to run, even though she was trapped under her friend’s weight.
Liz cried out in misery as she laughed through agonizing minutes of being tickle tortured. Liz wedged her leg up against Susan’s hip and with a grunt she sent Susan tumbling to the hardwood floor of the cabin.
Susan felt a crunch, somewhere in her lower back, and she let out a moan worthy of a B horror movie credit. “Ow! That hurt!”
Liz lay on the sofa, her hand on her stomach, breathing heavily. One of her shoes had fallen off, and she couldn’t stop laughing. “You should’ve seen your face when you were falling over--”
“You kicked me.”
“Did not! You were trying to tickle me to death.”
“You can’t be tickled to death.”
She lifted her head off the couch to give Susan a scalding glance. Her carefully coifed, perfectly smooth hair was standing up all over her head in jagged angles. “You know I’ve dreamed of being tickled to death.”