“That was an accident,” I said. “I was mistaken for the filmmaker and played along.”
“How’s it going to end? Are you going to ’fess up?”
I shook my head. “Maybe. It’s been a surprising night so far.” I tried not to sound grumpy about it. “Actually, I came back to confront Alma and Jen, but I changed my mind.”
“So you said.” He looked puzzled. “What did you want to talk about that was so scary?”
“You know, what they said about us in the cafeteria at lunch. On senior picture day.”
He shook his head. “Us? You mean you and me?”
I started to tell him, then stopped. He didn’t remember, and it would sound silly, petty almost, after all these years. How could someone be upset for fifteen years about a taunt in the cafeteria line? I had to solve my own problem, and I had to hurry before the night dissolved into total chaos. Then again, it might be too late.
I stood up, a little unsteady in my bare feet. I stepped away from the roof’s edge and walked to the other side of the bench, aware of his eyes on me. “I need to go.”
He stood, too. “Please don’t go. Ask me why I came to the reunion.”
“Because you’re a pillar of the community?”
“Ask me.”
His eyes were warm, and he looked straight into mine. I felt exposed, but not afraid. “Okay, why did you come?”
“Because there’s something I never got to do in high school, and I’ve thought about it for fifteen years.” His face moved closer.
“Yeah?” My voice sounded thin and breathy. “What?”
“This.” And then his lips closed over mine, and we were in each other’s arms again.
Chapter Seven
Rick led me back to the bench, still kissing me. His lips moved lightly over my face, then down to my collarbone. He moved aside the leather jacket that was draped over my shoulders and gently bit my bare skin, catching the thin strap of my dress in his teeth. My breath was coming in ragged pants, from anticipation as to what he’d do next, and from restless desire.
Rick was here, with me. I never thought I’d live out this fantasy, so even if it was just for tonight, I was going to enjoy every second.
Rick muttered hoarse endearments as he caressed my back, kissing my shoulders, returning to my mouth, getting closer to my breasts. I was dizzy with rum and lust.
The thought that I needed to be careful flitted through my head, but I didn’t allow it to distract me. My friends had outfitted my purse with enough contraceptives that neither prospect concerned me.
“Cali,” he sighed. “You are just as I imagined you.” He rubbed his lips across my cheek, my chin, then reclaimed my lips, which felt swollen now from all the attention.
I tugged on his shirt, and he stopped my hands, trapping my wrists against my waist. His lips traveled up my shoulder, nibbled at my throat, and worked their way back to my mouth.
“Are you sure about this, Cali? We can stop.”
“Are you insane?” I whispered. “We can’t stop now.” I pulled my hands free and tugged on his shirt, exposing a muscular chest. I put my hands on his flat stomach and ran them up to his chest.
His turn to moan. He pulled me close, rubbing against me. The music from downstairs filtered through the windows below, providing a passionate beat.
Behind me, the door opened. We jumped apart, and I scrambled to straighten out my dress.
“Oops, sorry.” The woman in the doorway didn’t move away. Her mascaraed eyes watched us both avidly, as if we were putting on a public show. I guess we were, now.
“Sara, go back downstairs. And close the door,” Rick said. He seemed unperturbed, damn it.
“Whoa, it’s the documentary chick,” Sara the Snoop said.
“No kidding?” A man’s voice came from over her shoulder. His head popped out through the doorway. We interrupting something?” His face brightened. “Hey, there’s a table out here. You allowed to smoke out here?”
Rick put his hand on my shoulder. “Cali—”
“I’m Dorothy,” I hissed.
His eyes narrowed. “Has it occurred to you that this charade is ridiculous and unnecessary?”
“Well, it’s my ridiculous and unnecessary life you’re messing with.” I pushed past Sara and her leering companion and down the crowded steps, shoes in hand. I wished I’d worn flats. Flats and black glasses, my inner demon snickered. Flats and a unibrow.
Rick did not understand. Fueled by embarrassment and righteous anger, I headed downstairs to the bar. It was probably less crowded than the upstairs room, where the action seemed centered on the pool tables.
I sat on one of the vacant barstools, and Zack put a glass in front of me.
“A mojito for the señorita,” he said.
“Could you make it just Coke?”
His eyebrows rose. “Sure, babe.” He swept the glass away.
“Did you really go to Elmwood Park High? I was told to interview you.”
“No. But if it gets me bigger tips, I’ll say I want to Harvard. I don’t care.” He grinned as he placed a fresh glass on the bar.
A tentative sip proved it was just Coke. Relieved, I drank half of it. Sexual frustration obviously made me thirsty. I glanced toward the stairs. No sign of Rick. He was still upstairs.
I cursed myself for checking the stairs every few seconds, hoping to see Rick. I should just march up there and tell him what I wanted. And I would, as soon as I figured it out. I put my shoes on and tried to stand up. Ouch. Off they came again, which was just as well. I didn’t want to ruin them by getting the insides dirty.
A moment later I felt Rick’s hand on my shoulder. Above us Taylor Dane pleaded for her lover to “Tell It To My Heart.” Yeah, right.
He sat on the stool next to me. “Sorry I took so long. I got held up by a little situation.” His face looked grim.
“Is something wrong?”
He shrugged and leaned forward. “Tell me about Jen and Alma, Cali. You said they were responsible for some awful event, but from your description it was embarrassing, not life-changing.”
“I guess when you’re eighteen and shy, embarrassment that profound is life-changing.” It had certainly hurt enough.
“So you went to college and really changed your life.” He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear, his finger tickling my jaw, warm against my skin. I shivered.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I owe Alma and Jen my gratitude for triggering the change,” I said defensively. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am today.”
He nodded. “I’m sure. But I see the same Cali that I knew. Smart and funny. You could look at someone and size them up in a minute.” He laughed softly. “Too bad you couldn’t do the same in the mirror.”
I straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His right shoulder came up in a familiar half shrug. “Nothing against you. I guess we’re all unsure of ourselves, until the moment comes when you see the path clearly. The right choice is obvious.”
“Is that how you felt when your father died?”
“Not at first. I rebelled, but yeah. Zack’s family invited me to dinner after Dad died, and it was an epiphany. I realized how much my old man meant to them. The jobs, the station. And his old customers all came by just to tell me how they trusted him with their cars.” He was silent for a moment, staring into space.
I put my hand over his. “So you stayed.”
He nodded. “And your path was clear, too, wasn’t it?”
“Actually, I sort of fell into my career. It’s exciting, but I’m still looking for—” I started to say satisfaction, but the word had taken on new meaning tonight.
I remembered who I was. Forthright Cali. Blunt New Yorker and assertive businesswoman. I also remembered that Rick was still married, even if it was over. What was I doing? I put my hand back on the bar.
“Why didn’t you think it was worth mentioning that you’re married to Jen?”
His brows knit, then smoothed out. “I should have. I was planning to, but you looked just the same, and I wanted you to see me the same way. You may as well know what happened upstairs just now. Jen was making out on the couch with some guy. It was embarrassing for everyone, not just me. She saw me and went nuts.”
“She does that so well,” I murmured.
“No kidding. She also said she’s filing for a divorce.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She wanted me to feel bad, but all I could feel was relieved. We should have split up long ago.”
“And you didn’t think you needed to tell me?”
“It’s not worth mentioning. It’s over.” He braced an arm on the wall above my head, all sexy and Brando-like.
In that moment I realized how much I’d changed. I didn’t need to confront Jen or Alma. And I didn’t care that he hadn’t told me. We both yearned to go back to that moment when there was no Jen, when it was just Rick and Cali in the library, and Rick had said that he wanted me, that he thought I was beautiful. Those were the words that had changed my life. If he thought I was beautiful, anything was possible.
“Remember I agreed with you when you said Jen was responsible for the worst day of your life?” he asked. “Well, for me it was the worst seven years of my life. I think I’ve got you beat.”
“I’m surprised you survived.” He was close enough for his intoxicating scent to affect me, but I kept edging away. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.”
His face drew closer. “Yes, on so many levels. I want to know what you read, what you eat. What’s your favorite food?”
I laughed. It was so off-topic. “Food? It’s a toss-up. Mussels marinara and Cuban-style black beans and rice. Yours?”
“Prime rib and baked ziti,” he said. “I’ll have to add Cali’s skin to favorite tastes.”
My internal thermostat, already cranked high at his closeness, ratcheted up another five notches. I swallowed, remembering his kisses, the feel of his hot breath on my bare skin.
“Speechless, Cali?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were serious.
“What can I say?” My voice was hoarse. I swallowed again, but it didn’t help. “This is crazy, Rick. Teasing each other serves no purpose. On Sunday, I’ll head back to New York and my life, and you’ll go back to yours.”
He leaned in further, and his lips grazed my cheek. “Who’s teasing? Don’t you wonder what it would be like, Cali? Didn’t you think about this?”
I turned my face, catching his lips with mine. Our kiss was long, lips barely touching, prolonging the moment; until finally we deepened it, tongues exploring, and our bodies closed the space between us.
Lost in the kiss, in the feel of his body pressed against mine, I didn’t care who saw. I wanted Rick, and he wanted me. Sunday seemed very far away.
A commotion on the stairs drew our attention. It sounded as if a fight had started upstairs and was moving downstairs. A couple of people jumped down the last few stairs and immediately turned around. Not anxious to get away, just angling for a better view.
Chip Alstead tumbled headfirst down the carpeted treads and landed in a crumpled heap on the landing. Before anyone could check to see if he was okay, he leaped up and headed toward the bar’s door. His shirt was torn and a bloody scratch marred one side of his smooth chest.
He didn’t glance to either side as he strode out, banging the door open with the flats of his palms. The door swung shut silently behind him.
“And stay out,” Jen screeched. She sounded like a cartoon demon. I turned, astonished, to see if she’d sprouted a tail and horns. Her hair was mussed, but other than swaying to stay upright, she seemed fine.
She looked around proudly at her audience, which had grown since Chip had run outside.
“See, I told you I’d get him. No one screws over Jen Petersen.”
Alma appeared at her elbow and started trying to tug her into the other room. “Come on, Jen. You’ve had one too many.”
“No, I haven’t,” she shouted. She spotted me and weaved over. “Rick and Dorothy. How sweet. You two book a hotel room for the night, or you just going to do it on the bar?”
Rick cut his eyes toward me, which I took to be a nonverbal warning to be still. I was fine with that.
“Come on, Jen. Let’s get you home.”
“No way. I want to talk to Dorothy.”
“Get her out of here,” Zack commanded, and Alma grabbed her friend and led her away.
I watched, remembering a day when I was eighteen, standing in line at the cafeteria, shuffling forward with the crowd, waiting for the servers to toss overcooked broccoli and stiff chicken fingers onto my tray.
Alma and Jen had come straight to me, which was unusual enough to make me look up. They were giggling, falling into each other with laughter.
“Cali’s in love,” they’d chanted. “Cali’s in love with Rick.”
Then Jen had reached out and whispered, “I heard you two have sex in the library all the time.”
I’d stood there, shocked and mortified, wondering if it would be all over school. Rumors travel fast through school corridors. My barely there romance with Rick would probably be over before lunch period was done.
Jen had smiled triumphantly, then smacked her hand into the bottom of my tray, sending my salad and opened carton of milk sailing up and onto my white blouse. It was Picture Day, and I’d hidden, crying and stained with milk and Thousand Island dressing, in the art department’s faraway girls’ bathroom while everyone had their photos taken. I’d vowed never to cry in front of them again, and I hadn’t.
From that moment, Jen and Alma were my enemies. I could still hear the laughter that chased me down the hall. Not just Alma and Jen. Everyone had laughed. I went from invisibility to senior class joke with a flip of Jen’s hand.
Just remembering made my cheeks burn, and the heat made me sympathize with Sue Ann. Strange how something that had happened fifteen years before could still cause a strong physical reaction. Like Rick’s fingers, I thought, although that was a totally different feeling.
Rick’s mouth on mine, his fingers caressing my face, the heat of his body through our clothes, his hardness pressed against my back. Now that was a memory. A definite keeper, even though nothing had happened after that. Graduation day came, and my parents flew me to Miami for a huge family reunion.
Thinking of him made me restless. I wondered where he was, and whether we could finish what we’d started. Moments like that were impossible to recreate. An oppressive sadness came over me.
I slid from the barstool and went to the other room. The floor was even more disgusting in my bare feet.
The room was crowded with women, friends of Alma and Jen standing around the booth where Alma hiccuped and mopped her eyes. Crammed into the booth with them were several others, including the woman from my hotel, the flu lady. She looked better, although it was hard to tell if her eyes were bright with curiousity or fever.
I went to them, wondering what to say.
Alma looked up, and her face crumpled when she saw who stood over her. Jen, on her left, sat straighter and stared at me warily.
“Alma—” I started.
“Please,” she said, voice choked. “Don’t start. I don’t know what I can say to make you keep this quiet. It’s embarrassing enough that everyone saw. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s in the papers tomorrow.”
Jen put a consoling arm around her friend. She looked up at me. “I’m sorry I let my feelings get carried away. Can you just forget everything that happened?”
“I wonder if I can,” I said. “It’s not as if I thought about it all the time, but it’s not something you just forget, either.” I glanced back at Sue Ann, who was talking to the big rawboned blonde. The woman turned to look at me and I realized it was Jane, the famous cook.
“I’m sure you’re amused by all this,” Jen said, voice tight. “But we’re all parents, and business people. Consider the impact on our kids.”
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I must have looked as confused as I felt.
“Please, Dorothy,” Alma pleaded.
“What?” The word came out of my mouth, but an echo came from the woman next to Alma.
“What did you say?” she said.
“Dorothy Kalucheck?” I asked, pretty sure of the answer.
“Yeah.” Her eyes focused on me. “Hey, it’s my Good Samaritan. Got an aspirin? My head is still pounding.”
Alma and Jen looked from Dorothy to me.
“I thought you were Dorothy Kalucheck,” Alma said, pointing at me. “If she’s Dorothy, who are you?”
“I’m Cali Montalvo.” I waited for her reaction. Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t immediately spit on the ground and throw up her fingers in an evil eye countersign. Beside her, Jen moved suddenly, as if startled.
“Cali?” She thought for a moment. “Oh, you worked in the library, right? Why did you say you were Dorothy?”
“I didn’t. You did. I just didn’t correct you.” I swallowed my pride. “I’m sorry I lied. I guess I wanted to know if anyone recognized me.”
Alma shrugged. “I didn’t, sorry. But you look great.” She actually sounded sincere.
Jen’s frown deepened. “No wonder Rick was all over you.”
“Rick was all over her?” Alma looked me up and down. “Well, well.” She stared down at my shoes, which dangled from my left hand. “Are your shoes Jimmy Choos? Can I try them on?” She stood up and I held them out.
“Does Rick know it’s you?” Jen demanded. She stood, too. She was a lot taller than me, especially now that I was barefoot.
I stood straighter. “He recognized me right away. So did Sue Ann.”
Alma looked across the room at her. “She was always observant. She’s a journalist now, you know.”
“She told me.”
Alma steadied herself on the booth back as she slipped into my shoes. “Wow, they hurt. How can you wear them?”
I shrugged. “Practice. They don’t hurt so much if you’re used to wearing stilettos.”
Alma giggled. “I have a pair of stilettos, but I wear them for five minutes max. And only for my husband.”
Friday Night Chicas Page 16