One Kiss, Two Kiss, Red Kiss, Now You Kiss

by Linda Wisdom

  “Pretty soon we spent all his free time together.” Jill drew a deep breath, finding it difficult to continue. “And for the first time in my life I thought about commitments.” Her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “Luckily I was shaken to my senses before I made a fool of myself.” Her hand trembled as she set the wineglass down and slowly turned to face Greg. “One afternoon, while I was waiting for Josh in the office he used when he was in the city, I took a telephone message from his wife. Luckily she thought I was a secretary, but I still felt like a fool.”

  “What did he say when you confronted him with your knowledge?” Greg asked.

  Jill uttered a harsh laugh. “He assumed I had known all along that he was married. It seemed that he had given me enough hints; I just hadn’t noticed them. Or hadn’t wanted to,” she added under her breath. She silently cursed herself for the hot tears filling her eyes. “It turned out that the bastard had a mistress in each of the other three states he traveled to. I was the California one. Needless to say, I came to my senses immediately and told him if he ever tried to contact me again, I’d call his wife and let her know what he was pulling and I had photographs to prove it. It was obvious he didn’t want her to know.”

  “Why did he show up again after all this time?” Greg inquired, wishing he could take her into his arms and give her the comfort she needed.

  Jill sniffed. “I don’t know his reasoning. Maybe he figured I’d be ready to take him back by now. Perhaps his present California girlfriend wasn’t working out. I guess I could have offered to run an ad for him. ‘Mistress needed four days a month; experience preferred.’” She choked on the last two words.

  This time Greg did take her in his arms. “Poor baby,” he crooned, stroking her back. “He really screwed you up, didn’t he?”

  “He had no feelings for me,” she said with a sniff, burying her face against the curve of his neck. She snuggled closer to him. “I’m just glad I found out before I told him how I felt about him.”

  “He was never for you,” he declared confidently, rubbing his chin lightly over the top of her head. “You’re doin’ fine, sweetheart, and you’ve got me to take care of you.”

  “Ha! With the full social life you have, you don’t have the time to take care of a goldfish,” she argued, looking up with tear-bright eyes.

  He shook her gently. “Have you noticed me seeing anyone lately?” Jill shook her head. “Then I rest my case.”

  For the next fifteen minutes they sat huddled together. Greg was beginning to regret it, since sharing close quarters with Jill was having a very noticeable effect on his body. He shifted his position, bringing one leg up, his knee bent in an effort to hide his arousal from her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m probably turning you into a pretzel,” Jill apologized, unaware of his discomfort. She glanced at the bedside clock. “I’d better get going. Thanks for the comfort.” She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. For a moment she was tempted to kiss him again, but the strange light in Greg’s eyes stopped her. “Good night, Greg.” Her voice came out husky and all too inviting.

  For a long time after Jill left, Greg lay in bed berating himself for letting her go so easily.

  The next morning he was up early and jogged until his entire body felt like a piece of cooked macaroni. After he returned home he took a hot shower and drank a couple of cups of hot coffee to lure him back to the land of the living. He was hard at work downstairs when Jill sauntered in wearing a pair of faded tight jeans and a lipstick-red oversize sweatshirt.

  Greg leaned back in his chair and eyed her with amazement. “When did they start manufacturing faded denim spray paint?” He ducked when a paperback book sailed through the air in his direction.

  “That’s about as nasty as you can get, Richmond.” Jill sat on the edge of his desk.

  “Aren’t you afraid of splitting something?” Greg glanced down at her trim thighs, wondering how she stayed so slim with all the sweets she ate.

  “That just might happen if I don’t return to dance class pretty soon,” she grumbled.

  “Oh, come now, you’re not going to tell me that doing plies and whatever else you do burns up enough calories to keep you so thin.” His disbelief was obvious.

  “It’s certainly a lot more fun than a boring run around the same old park every morning.” Jill sighed theatrically, unable to resist a few digs of her own. “It’s amazing how tights can look so good on a man. They—ah—they show off the best of people, if you know what I mean?” She closed one eye in a sly wink.

  Greg knew what she meant only too well, and he didn’t like the mental picture he was receiving.

  “Of course, male dancers have to be extremely strong,” Jill chatted on. “That’s so they can easily pick their partners up and carry them.”

  “Do you want some coffee?” Greg practically shouted, jumping to his feet.

  Jill blinked, looking oh-so-innocent. “Yes, I would. How nice of you to ask,” she simpered.

  That did it. With a glare fit to kill, Greg stomped off. After he deposited a mug on her table, Jill ended up working the rest of the morning by herself.

  The next few days continued in the same vein, one of them picking a ridiculous argument that escalated until the other left to cool off, something that had rarely happened before. This morning was not much different when Greg brought up a topic Jill preferred forgotten.

  “Do you have any preferences for next Tuesday?” Greg asked, after they finished proofreading the first two chapters.

  Jill looked up. “About what?”

  “For your birthday dinner. I’ve already figured I’ll be signing over the next three royalty checks to pay for the meal,” he told her. “At least that’s what you said you’d do to me after you took me out for dinner on my birthday.”

  “I don’t want a birthday dinner,” she said quickly, returning to her work.

  “We could have a party,” Greg mused, unaware of the tension coiled inside Jill. “We should do something special for this particular birthday. How does a party sound?”

  “I don’t want a party. I don’t want to go out to dinner. I just want to spend the day in bed.” Her clenched hands lying in her lap was another sign of her agitation.

  Greg was surprised by Jill’s distraught state. It had been a practice of theirs over the past few years to treat the other to dinner out on birthdays. Then he remembered Evelyne warning him that Jill’s mental state would be off balance for a while.

  “It’s called post-op depression,” she had explained to him one morning when they spoke on the phone. “When she gets upset for no reason, just humor her, but be warned that it may not work. It doesn’t hurt to try, though.”

  “Are you sure you’ll want to spend the day in bed?” he asked mildly. “After all, it is a special day for you. If you’d like, we could drive up to Napa and tour some of the wineries.”

  “No!” she shouted, turning on him with the ferocity of a wildcat. “I don’t want to do anything on my birthday. All it means is that I’m turning thirty, and soon I’ll be thirty-five and, well, I don’t want to think about what happens after that.”

  The light bulb didn’t just go on in Greg’s brain. It blew up. So that was the problem … Jill wasn’t looking forward to her thirtieth birthday. He had heard that a lot of women dreaded the big three-o. Now all he had to do was figure out how to handle the situation.

  “Hey, babe.” He laid his arm across her shoulders in a comforting gesture. “Don’t you know you’re not getting older, you’re getting better?” Now that had the right touch.

  Jill’s unladylike snort told him her opinion of his advice. “Forget it. I don’t want to be thirty,” she insisted stubbornly. “So if I stay in bed all day, it will go by without me and I won’t turn thirty.”

  Greg was very tempted to ask where Jill got her crazy logic, but he knew better. “Why don’t we pretend it’s an ordinary day and just go out to dinner?”

  She eyed
him warily. “What’s the reason for our going out if it isn’t for my birthday?”

  She had him stumped. “It’s close enough to Easter; we could celebrate that.” He looked very proud of himself for coming up with the perfect solution. “Besides, when have we ever needed a reason to go out?”

  Jill didn’t look very convinced. “We’ll see,” was all she would say.

  Tuesday morning Jill purposely stayed in bed later than usual. She was glad she didn’t have to work that day if she didn’t want to because she only wanted to hide away. She wasn’t that lucky.

  “Meet me for lunch at one o’clock,” Evelyne ordered after listening to the phone ring fifteen times before Jill deigned to answer it.

  “I have another appointment,” she lied.

  “No, you don’t. You be at Nordstrom at a quarter to one. I’m holding a clinic there.” Evelyne hung up before Jill could voice another excuse.

  “There are times when friends are a natural enemy,” Jill muttered, forcing herself out of bed. She staggered into the bathroom and reached up to open the medicine cabinet. Her hand stopped in midair as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She widened her eyes, then narrowed them. She inclined her head closer to the mirror to examine every inch of the skin around her eyes and didn’t like what she found. She silently counted the imaginary lines and wrinkles. She then went to work hunting for gray hairs, which were next to impossible to find among the tawny blond strands.

  At eleven o’clock a bouquet of yellow roses arrived for Jill. The enclosed card was from Greg, saying he’d pick her up at eight. There was nothing to indicate that the roses were for her birthday.

  At ten to one Jill wound her way through the aisles of the cosmetics department until she found Evelyne.

  “Happy birthday!” Her friend greeted her with a hug.

  “Please!” Jill groaned. “I can’t handle this. It is not my birthday. I refuse to allow it.”

  Evelyne laughed. “No such luck. Come on, we’re having a fattening lunch to celebrate. Is Greg taking you out to dinner tonight?”

  Jill nodded glumly.

  “Good. I’ll do your makeup for you,” Evelyne promptly offered. “When I finish you’ll be the new sex symbol.”

  Over lunch Jill confessed to finding new wrinkles and a couple of gray hairs.

  “Pooh!” Evelyne dismissed her friend’s fears with a casual wave of her hand. “If you’d use that new moisturizer I gave you, your skin would feel a hundred percent better. As for your hair, we’re taking care of that this afternoon, my gift to you.” She froze, looking across the room.

  “Earth to Evelyne,” Jill sang out, waving a hand in front of her face. “All right, you horrible person, get your head out of the outer limits.” Her command was laced with amusement. She was only too used to her friend suddenly leaving reality for several minutes.

  Evelyne smiled and returned her attention to Jill. “Take a casual look over your left shoulder. You’ll see a man with reddish hair dressed in a blue suit sitting at the third table from the doorway He’s the man I’m going to marry.”

  A moment later Jill glanced in the direction she had indicated. “Mmm, very nice, but he might have a wife and six kids your vibes aren’t picking up.”

  Still smiling, Evelyne shook her head. “Oh, no, I can feel a recent divorce, but it wasn’t anything messy. He’s the one.”

  Jill fiddled with her shrimp salad and took a bite before replying. “Evelyne, you’ve finally done it. And if you’re not careful, the men in white coats will be here with a designer straitjacket in your size.”

  “Poor Jill. Even after all these years you still can’t understand, can you?” Evelyne’s tone was benign, that of a mother explaining a simple formula to her daughter. “How can you doubt me?”

  Jill leaned across the table so no one else could hear her. “Then I think you should join the circus and wear a flowered skirt and a kerchief around your hair. Don’t forget the gold chains, because you’ll become a very popular fortune-teller. This is just a bit much, unless you’ve met the man and have forgotten to tell me.”

  Evelyne shook her head, not insulted by her friend’s words. “No, but I will … soon.” She looked very sure of herself.

  Jill rolled her eyes in exasperation. Instead of continuing her argument, she picked up the carafe of wine and topped off her glass.

  “If you pull this off, I’ll send the two of you on a fantastic honeymoon,” she promised.

  “Be careful, I just might take you up on it,” Evelyne teased.

  After a calorie-filled dessert of Black Forest cake, Evelyne steered Jill to her next surprise.

  “Oh, no,” Jill figuratively dug her heels into the pavement outside a chrome-and-glass one-story building.

  “Yes.” Evelyne literally pushed her inside. “Hi, Shari. Is Chad ready?” She smiled at the receptionist, whose gel-encrusted black hair stuck out in deadly spikes with bright green-dyed tips.

  “I’m too conservative for this place,” Jill whispered, wishing she could tune out the hard rock music assaulting her ears. She sat gingerly on a square black canvas cushion that doubled as a chair. “I’m not going to let some guy with a shaved head work on my hair,” she whispered fiercely, watching one tall skinny bald young man. “It’s not fair,” she moaned, burying her face in her hands. “It’s bad enough that I turned thirty today, but to end up here.” She glared at Evelyne. “I cannot stay here and have someone dye my hair plaid or shave it into a mohawk.”

  “Ms. Blake.” A deep male voice poured over her like warm honey.

  Jill looked up and used all her concentration to keep her mouth closed and her eyes in their sockets. The man standing in front of her was absolutely gorgeous. Sun-streaked brown hair, stylishly cut, framed big hazel eyes and a perfect nose, while a definitely sensual mouth finished his good-looking face.

  “Omigod,” she breathed.

  “Treat her gently, Chad,” Evelyne advised, nudging Jill to stand up. “It’s a special night for her.”

  “No problem, darling.” He raised his hands and finger-combed Jill’s hair, lifting the sides and allowing them to fall back down onto her shoulders. “A bit of shaping plus a perm would be nice.”

  “Perm?” Jill squeaked, remembering the Tonis her mother used to give her and how she’d end up looking like Shirley Temple.

  “No problem, sweetheart. When I finish, you will look gorgeous.” Chad snaked an arm around Jill’s waist and led her to the back. She turned around, throwing her now former friend a beseeching look, which she cheerfully ignored.

  “I’ll be back later.” Evelyne wiggled her fingers in a saucy wave. “I told you a perm was what you needed.”

  Jill wasn’t sure what to expect in this salon, where the loud music threatened to give her a headache and looking at some of the crazily dressed hairdressers left her feeling like someone thrust in the midst of aliens.

  “You’re a real foxy lady, Jill.” A few hours later Chad used a pick to heighten the hair along her crown. “Is there anyone special in your life?”

  Jill glanced up, gauging him to be no older than twenty-five. She searched his face for signs of teasing but couldn’t find any. He was serious!

  “Well, ah, there is someone,” she managed to stammer out. At the same time she wondered how much it would take for her to be enticed by this bewitching man’s offer. It was obvious he wanted to take her out.

  “Well, if you change your mind, call me … anytime.” Chad’s smile oozed with sensuality, echoing his invitation.

  Jill still couldn’t believe her ears. She imagined this sexy guy pursuing some young thing in a leather miniskirt and fishnet hose. Any man who wore a V-neck sweater and extremely tight white jeans that left nothing to the imagination couldn’t want a woman who was just turning thirty. She reached for the glass of champagne Chad had given her earlier.

  “My, it’s warm in here,” she said weakly, chugging the bubbly liquid.

  Chad wore a knowing smile wh
en he whisked the cape from Jill’s shoulders a moment later. He obviously assumed he had another conquest in this classy lady.

  “I love it!” Evelyne squealed, fingering the loose waves that framed Jill’s face. “Wear your drop-dead black dress tonight. Greg deserves the full treatment.”

  An hour later Evelyne was in the midst of applying base makeup to Jill’s face when Jill told her about Chad’s invitation.

  “Really?” she chuckled. “Well, you have to admit that he is some kind of hunk. Too bad he never propositioned me. I’d probably take him up on it.” She dipped a fat, soft-bristled brush into translucent loose powder with a hint of shimmer in it, flicked the brush over her palm, then dusted Jill’s face. Blusher followed next; then a shimmering taupe eye shadow and coordinating kohl pencil deepened the blue of Jill’s eyes.

  “You know, maybe thirty isn’t so bad after all,” Jill meditated, studying her reflection in the mirror. “After all, they say that’s the beginning of a woman’s sexual peak.”

  “So take full advantage of it,” Evelyne advised, rummaging through Jill’s closet. “Ah, here it is!” She pulled out a black strapless dress and held it up. “Where are your black pumps?”

  “The Charles Jourdan box.” Jill was still busy looking at herself in the mirror. She looked so different … sexy. The idea excited her.

  She still felt that way as she adjusted the three hooks that were all that held the dress together. As she walked, the side fold parted to reveal slender thighs encased in sheer black stockings. Her black pumps showed off her shapely ankles. She applied a deep rose lipstick and a shimmery lip gloss and wore diamond and sapphire earrings as her only jewelry.

  Maybe turning thirty wasn’t so bad after all.

  “Thank you, Evelyne.” She hugged her friend.

  “I survived my thirtieth birthday six months ago, so I knew you’d make it.” She smiled. She glanced at the clock. “I’d better go. Have a great time.” She tipped her head to one side and smiled in that mysterious way Jill recognized only too well. “In fact, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.”