Captain of Industry

by Karin Kallmaker

  “I’m sorry, I have a date—an appointment.” Suzanne had seen her and was jaywalking with the crowd to join her. “I’ll be late.”

  “What are you doing for nightlife this holiday season?” The camera followed her as she moved in Suzanne’s direction. And then it hit her. Any moment they would catch her in the frame with Suzanne. Suzanne was likely going to kiss her hello. It was possible, with her hair in a beanie and long men’s overcoat Suzanne might be taken for a man at first glance, but not for long. What if the reporter followed her to find out who the mystery date was? What if the blasted woman recognized Suzanne Mason and cared about names in the business news as well as entertainment celebrities?

  She’d saved money from her crappy mall job to pay for modeling school while other kids were joyriding in cars or taking the SATs. She’d struggled and finally closed her ears to her mother’s negativity and spite. Even though it meant closing some doors, she’d remained aloof and suspicious when people tried to give her things, especially the free drugs. She’d put herself out there, stared down rejection, accepted the small successes.

  She could lose it all over a second of film, over a headline. For Suzanne, who was going back to California.

  She would get applause and “good for you being true to who you are” from people who had no jobs to give her. Meanwhile, the people with work would decide she was never right for the part.

  She didn’t want to have to deny anything. She didn’t want to lie. But she wasn’t going to set herself back over sex—it was just sex, she told herself in panic.

  Mind-blowing, fire-hot sex. With another woman.

  Her future was suddenly on a razor’s edge and she wasn’t ready to dance in Suzanne’s world, had no preparation, no protection and no way to know what to balance. Or if there was anything she could trust.

  Veering into an opening in the crowd she hoped Suzanne could navigate too, she put a block between her and the Gardens before a skid across sidewalk ice made her pause.

  Suzanne caught up with her, breath steaming before the bitter wind snatched it away. “You’re going the wrong direction.”

  “I was getting away from a reporter.”

  “The price of fame already?” Suzanne’s hands were in her pockets. She looked tired yet satisfied, as if she’d had a long but successful day.

  “I made the mistake of saying I was late for a date.”

  Her expression freezing, Suzanne slowly said, “And you couldn’t have her figuring out it was me.”

  “Do you want publicity about your sex life right now?”

  “I’d survive it.”

  Jennifer didn’t actually say, “I don’t think I would,” but the words dropped into the space between them anyway. A rock of something acid and cold settled into her stomach.

  Suzanne finally said, “Plan B then? Greek diner?” She shrugged toward the door only a few feet away.

  Jennifer managed to get, “Yes. I’m starving,” past her icy lips.

  The bitter coffee failed to warm her. The only heat she felt was in her fingertips. They itched to stroke the back of Suzanne’s hand. Just to touch her skin for a moment. But it felt like a lie instead of a promise.

  “There’s no closet for me to go back to,” Suzanne said quietly over her cup. She abruptly frowned.

  Jennifer followed her gaze and spotted a man eyeing her, likely trying to figure out where he knew her from. “I was apparently in some big article today on the Internet. There’s no place for me to hide my face right now, I suppose.”

  The silences were long as they waited for their order and continued after it was delivered. Finally Suzanne looked up from toying with her feta and spinach omelet. “The article was on the web today, an advance of one that will be in a future magazine. You haven’t seen it yet?”

  “No—not a peep from my agent about it. I need… The agency I hoped would be interested? I’m meeting with them Monday. They’ll have a publicist and…” She managed to swallow a half bite of toast. “They have stuff I need.”

  The man who’d been staring at her left, but only after walking very slowly past their table. With mock cheer she asked, “So how was your day?”

  Suzanne’s little laugh didn’t hold much humor. “Busy. My lawyer has sent a contract to review. My business associate is pulling in people and we’ve got an org chart for a transition team taking shape. If you’d bought stock earlier this week you’d have already made a killing.”

  “Wish I’d thought of it. I could have gambled my rent money.”

  “Time will tell if the price will go up or crash and burn once we’re through the merger. The market seems to think I can add value. I have to prove it now. If I do, then I extend potential future partnerships. Maybe even outside tech, but who knows?”

  She made herself eat a few pieces of her skewered chicken and tomatoes. Her stomach stopped grinding and grumbling. She had hoped it would clear her mind, but she couldn’t stop looking at Suzanne’s hands and remembering them on her breasts, between her legs.

  As they left the diner the wind buffeted all the way down her back and Suzanne clutched her beanie. There was finally enough privacy to talk openly but Jennifer figured they’d both freeze to death in minutes.

  “Could we—” Jennifer shook her head as the wind snatched her words.

  Suzanne leaned close.

  It was too much and too powerful and her brain gave up trying to sort out her entire life in an hour. “This,” she said into Suzanne’s ear before nuzzling her lips against the soft lobe. “Can’t we just do this?”

  Suzanne’s gloved hands were in her hair, tipping her head back. “Do you think it’ll help?”

  Suzanne kissed her before she could answer, “I think it’s going to hurt.” Even with the layers of their coats separating them, Jennifer thought she could feel the pounding of Suzanne’s heart.

  They parted when a cab disgorged passengers into the warmth of the diner, and Suzanne held the door for Jennifer. The heater was barely holding its own and she huddled in her coat, unable to think of a word to say. When Suzanne pulled off one glove and slid her cool fingers inside Jennifer’s sleeve, fingertips stroking along the soft skin of Jennifer’s forearm, Jennifer lost herself in the sensation. Delicate, gentle, and sending her pulse higher and hotter with every touch. And driving away the vision she had of a future in flames.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jennifer was all abandon, wild with desire. Her lips were red with kisses and the slow strip of their clothes as they made their way across the loft to the bed had created an urgency inside Suzanne that she didn’t recognize. She didn’t think anyone else had ever seen Jennifer like this either.

  This one’s gonna burn, Suzanne thought. She’s deep under my skin but I’m just scratching an itch for her.

  She couldn’t stop herself—didn’t even try. Jennifer’s tiny whimpers of need fanned a fire that danced over all of Suzanne’s body.

  “Is this what you want?” She skimmed Jennifer’s thighs with her lips.

  “You know I do. You make me feel—real. Like this is how I’m supposed to feel.”

  The rush of tenderness Suzanne felt surprised her. She gently kissed Jennifer’s thighs and closed her eyes. In spite of Jennifer’s hand on the back of her head there was no hurry. The taste of sex and Jennifer was more intimate than anything she’d experienced. The sharp cries and long, rising moans filled Suzanne again with the awe and power that loving women fueled inside her.

  This was how they were both supposed to feel.

  “Let me,” Jennifer whispered. “Tell me if I’m not doing this right.”

  She let her forehead rest on Jennifer’s shoulder and considered shushing Jennifer with a kiss. She ached for Jennifer’s touch but her fears were suddenly in her throat. It could be too good. She could never recover. Then she pushed away the foolish thought. She had never needed anyone that way. A hiss of pleasure escaped her as Jennifer’s touch became more confident, moved more quickly, then deeper.


  “Is this okay?”

  She raised her head enough to meet Jennifer’s gaze. There was no uncertainty in it. Jennifer knew…

  “I just want to hear you say it.” Jennifer’s other hand trailed lazily over Suzanne’s back, nails raising goose bumps.

  “Yes. That’s…okay.”

  A low, sexy laugh accompanied the feel of Jennifer’s fingertips on her nipple. Suzanne found herself straddling Jennifer’s thigh, grinding on her palm, and it was too late to hold anything back.

  “Say it again.”

  “Yes.”

  “Again.”

  “Yes.”

  Gasping for air, she said it again, in Jennifer’s ear, and again when Jennifer was behind her, tongue tracing Suzanne’s shoulder blades and still deep inside her. And again when Jennifer rolled her over and their slick bodies merged in breathless need.

  She wanted to join Jennifer in welcome, exhausted sleep but the impulse fled and her mind turned to solutions. They could still see each other. Planes went from New York to California multiple times a day and she’d happily buy Jennifer as many tickets as she wanted. Jennifer could even end up in Los Angeles if her acting career took off.

  She wasn’t sure why it had seemed impossible earlier. She relaxed and gathered Jennifer close. The scent of her hair and skin rolled down Suzanne’s body in a warm tide of satisfaction.

  Sunlight in her face woke her. Jennifer was gone.

  ACT II

  Chapter Nineteen

  Present Day

  Jennifer had scarcely grasped the fact that she was once again in Suzanne Mason’s arms before Suzanne swirled her upright.

  They might have been dancing. Except she was only wearing one shoe and her dress was halfway to her waist. But those unforgettable strong arms were wrapped around her, allowing no light between their bodies, and she was being guided toward the nearest doorway. A hubbub had broken out and Jennifer could see her ex, Selena Ryan, on her way toward them, with the young, talented, nice Gail Welles in her wake. Gail would be genuinely sorry for Jennifer’s plight. Lena would not be able to hide her schadenfreude.

  Suzanne didn’t ease her grip until they were in the cabana, where the servers were stacking dirty dishes. She arched an eyebrow at Suzanne.

  Suzanne let her go.

  Clutching at her dress before her navel joined the strip show, she gathered it up until Laverne and Shirley were at least covered. The molded breast cups were tangled in the dress and the body glue had left a tacky residue on her nipples as usual. Not that she wanted to explain that to anyone at the moment. She kept one hand splayed across her chest, holding the silk in place. As if it weren’t already hard enough to feel dignified, the loss of one of her shoes put her off balance by four inches.

  “Is it torn?” Suzanne was sliding out of her sleek white linen jacket.

  “I don’t think so.” Don’t mention the past. “Thank you. I thought I was going to crack my head open.”

  “This will get you back to the main house.” Suzanne slid the jacket over Jennifer’s bare shoulders.

  “I couldn’t—” Suddenly she could. Whether it was the warmth from the silk lining or the accidental brush of Suzanne’s fingertips at the nape of her neck, Jennifer found herself pulling the jacket close around her. “Thank you. I’ve lost my shoe.”

  “Your Choo’s dead.” Selena, sleek in her habitual understated elegance of a masterfully tailored dark charcoal suit, appeared from behind Suzanne, holding up the stiletto. The heel was almost completely detached from the rest of the shoe. Jennifer knew better than most that Lena was a master at hiding her thoughts. Right now she wasn’t bothering to mask her merriment. “Not that anyone will care.”

  Jennifer took the shoe, saying, “You’re right. I don’t think it can be repaired.”

  “Sure. That’s the headline, Jennifer.” Lena gave a meaningful glance at the closed front of the suit jacket.

  Gail Welles, true to her Iowa nature, looked concerned and kind and helpful all at once. “It’s not as if other people haven’t tripped and fallen, Lena. I did a face plant the first time I met you, remember?”

  Lena made what was for her an absolutely gooey face in answer, leaving Jennifer to point out the obvious. “I’m half naked and in one shoe. Can you two do the sweet nothing remembrances later?”

  Gail’s face was a lightning fast succession of emotions that left Jennifer in no doubt that the two of them would have a romantic discussion later and that she didn’t want to know another thing about it.

  Damn Gail and her handsome, tall, thin, talented, unpretentiousness. She was like a baby bird that Jennifer wanted to step on sometimes, mostly because Gail had ended up happy with Lena after Jennifer had salted and scorched their relationship until not even weeds would grow. It would be a colder day than this before Jennifer would admit to anyone that she had been stood up by a producer tonight while her ex was here with the love of her life.

  Suzanne gestured discreetly at the catering staff, some of whom were lingering close by. “Should we go back to the house?”

  “Good idea.” Lena turned toward the door. “Jen’s already provided one news cycle. Sorry, make that two news cycles. Two ample news cycles.”

  Not for the first time Jennifer wished her eyes had real daggers.

  “Follow me and we’ll be mostly out of sight of the party.” Suzanne ushered them along a side path that wasn’t as brightly lit as the main walkway.

  “I’m really sorry about all this.” Jennifer bobbed up and down with every step. She swore she heard Lena snicker.

  “It’s no trouble.” Suzanne glanced back and yes, she was laughing at Jennifer as well.

  Oh goodie.

  “No, I mean about what’s going to happen tomorrow. Someone got a picture, if not a dozen, you know they did. I understand the tabloid mill. A picture that used to take a week to circulate is now around the world in an hour. You’re going to get calls.”

  “They can talk to my P.R. people.” Suzanne led the way through a side entry into the enormous great room that took up half of the mansion’s ground floor. Jennifer had only glimpsed it upon her arrival. The dark beams against the white ceiling underscored a simple, elegant Spanish influence interior. Modern art paintings Jennifer knew were not reproductions added color. The dark woods and terra-cotta tiles were warm, as were the soft and appealing pale green cushions covering open, wooden-frame couches and chairs.

  On the far side of the room floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors were pushed open to let in the night air, which carried the hint of offshore fog and promise of sunshine tomorrow that was typical of La Jolla and San Diego beaches in the early spring.

  It was a far cry from the chilly steel and concrete of the New York loft where they’d met.

  They continued past the spacious kitchen and dining area at the rear of the great room and were into the powder room before Jennifer even realized it was one. She’d been on television sets that weren’t as large. Once the door was closed behind them, she sat down on the chair at the vanity and slid off her other shoe. Both of her stockings were ruined.

  “Have you ever dealt with the parasitic paparazzi?” Lena was giving Suzanne her no-nonsense face.

  Suzanne was equally reserved. “I know something about it.”

  “I know you’ve dealt with the press. Actual, real journalists.” Lena looked sympathetic and Jennifer wondered what she’d missed. “That’s not who’ll be calling. It’ll be the type of people that if you say nothing, they just make something up.”

  Jennifer went on removing her thigh-highs. It was so much fun, listening to her exes talk to each other.

  “You’re in a photograph with Laverne and Shirley,” Lena went on. “You have no idea the scope of the feeding frenzy that is about to happen.”

  Gail burst out laughing. “Now I understand your reaction whenever you see an ad for a rerun of that show.”

  Yeah, this was just peachy, Jennifer thought. “Gee thanks.”

/>   Gail gestured at her own chest. “Hey, I’ve got nothing but envy here.”

  “Thanks to the cloud and wireless and those bloodsucking scandal sites, I’m going to spend the next year talking about my boobs.” She glared at Suzanne as if she’d invented all of it, which in part she had.

  “Get out in front of it. Err, them.” Lena blinked rapidly, but failed to look the least bit innocent. “Both of you need to get out in front of the story. Tweet about it, and then move on.”

  Suzanne spread her hands helplessly. “All I did was catch her.”

  Lena repeated, “You’re in a picture with Laverne and Shirley.”

  “Stop calling them that!”

  “You’re the one who calls them that.” Lena ran a hand through her short brown hair, which, as a result, was never completely tidy.

  “In private! I don’t want the whole world to know.” Jennifer was not going to think about the nights when she’d enjoyed the feeling of that hair against her mouth or her thighs.

  “I won’t say a word either,” Gail offered. “Even though I could totally get on Late Night with that tidbit.”

  “It never crossed my mind that you would do such a thing.” Jennifer gave Lena an evil look before turning a more benign one on Gail.

  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Gail looked at Jennifer’s bare feet. “What are you going to do for shoes?”

  Jennifer glanced at Suzanne’s elegant Marc Jacobs loafers. No help there. “I can’t get the dress and accoutrements back together.” She shrugged off the jacket and immediately missed the way it felt on her shoulders. The dress slipped and Shirley saw the light of day for a moment. “I’m a mess!”

  Suzanne let out a chuckle, then seemed to quail at Jennifer’s glare. “I’m not laughing at your condition. I’m laughing that you think it’s unattractive.”

  Jennifer glanced in the mirror. Her hair was tousled out of place, her dress crumpled and barely covered her assets—she looked as if she’d just gotten out of bed. The thought sent a flush across her chest and down her arms. She was very much aware that while memories of Lena were potent, it was Suzanne’s open appreciation that was leaving her just a little bit breathless.