Fast Women

by Jennifer Crusie

  “I think you have my wife in here,” Riley said, and Nell thought, Oh, thank God.

  “Your wife?” Ben said, and Nell went to the door, trying not to smile in relief.

  “Hi, honey,” she said brightly.

  “Honey?” Ben said. “I thought you were divorced.”

  “Not quite,” Riley said through his teeth, glaring at her. “She misses on the details sometimes.”

  “Really sorry about this,” she said to Ben as she slipped past him. He looked at her the same way Riley had. Well, she couldn’t blame him, she’d lied to him.

  Although he had definitely lied to her.

  “I really am sorry,” she said, turning back at the door. “I think it’s indefensible to lie to a prospective lover about your marital status. Don’t you?”

  The last thing she saw as Riley pulled her away was Ben flushing, whether in rage or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell. It really didn’t matter.

  * * *

  Riley was seethingly quiet all the way down High Street, waiting until they were back in Nell’s apartment, and she’d turned to him and said, “Okay, so I probably shouldn’t have done that,” before he snarled, “Probably?” and launched into a tirade on her criminal negligence in not following orders that could have led to grievous consequences. “What are you trying to do?” he yelled at her finally. “Turn Gabe and me into pimps?”

  “I think you’re exaggerating.” Nell felt close to tears. She hadn’t wept for months, not since Tim had dumped her. She tried to listen to Riley’s accusations, tried to goad herself into sobbing, but it wasn’t going to happen. She could smash offices and dye her hair and pick up men all she wanted, but she was never going to feel anything again. Depressed beyond measure, she left Riley in midsentence and went into her living room and sat down on her daybed in the dark, still not crying. She hadn’t even bought the daybed herself, Suze had. She was a ghost in her own life.

  After a minute, Riley came in and sat down beside her. “I’m finished yelling,” he said in a normal voice. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I can’t feel anything,” Nell said. “I haven’t felt anything forever. I forget to eat because I never get hungry anymore. I find out my husband lied to me and cheated on me and I wreck his office—”

  “What?” Riley said, alarm in his voice.

  “—and by five, I’m back to numb. I end up in a total stranger’s hotel room, and he kisses me and I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even revulsion or fear.” She looked at him and said, “I’m dead. And I don’t think I’m coming back. That man was kissing me and I felt nothing.”

  “He was also a total stranger who was cheating on his wife,” Riley pointed out. “I don’t think those are big turnons for you.”

  “Nothing is a big turn-on for me,” Nell said. “I’m stuck in the ‘off’ position, and I think it’s forever.” She drew a long, shuddering breath. “I thought maybe changing the way I look would do it, but it’s all on the outside. I’m still gray inside. And I can’t break out of it.”

  Her voice rose up to a cry at the end, an ugly, fingernail-down-a-blackboard screech, and she expected Riley to pull away, but he put his arm around her instead, solid and strong.

  “You are overdramatizing this,” he said.

  She pulled back, insulted. “Listen, you,” she said, and he leaned forward and kissed her.

  Chapter Five

  She grabbed at him, first in surprise, and then because he felt good, hot on her mouth, solid under her hands. “What was that?”

  “You think too much.” Riley let his fingers slide down her neck and made her shiver. “See? Not dead.”

  “Hey, I have real troubles,” Nell said, trying to get her indignation back, but he drew his fingers over her breast, and she lost her place in the conversation.

  “You have no troubles,” Riley said. “You got divorced from a guy who didn’t deserve you, you have friends who are so worried about you they got you a great job, and tonight you have me. I see no problems here.”

  “Well, I—”

  He kissed her again, this time full out groping her while he did, and the pressure of his hand felt so fine on her breast that she leaned into him while she kissed him back, wanting him to push against her, to struggle with her, to make her feel something again. “See?” he whispered against her mouth. “You were just with the wrong guy.”

  “Oh, and you’re the right guy?” she said and surprised herself by laughing.

  “For tonight, I’m the right guy.” Riley slid his thumb into her neckline. “You’re definitely at the disposable lover stage,” he said and kissed her neck.

  “There’s a disposable lover stage?” Nell said, but he was leaning into her, and she smiled into his mouth as he kissed her again. “I don’t believe this,” she said when she pulled away. “I’m really depressed—”

  “No, you’re not. You’re mad as hell.” He ran his fingers lightly down the back of her dress. “You just think depressed is more ladylike. Time to blow off some steam. Where’s the zipper to this thing?”

  “I am not having sex with you,” Nell said, moving away, but not too far. The kissing part was cheering her up too much for her to kick him out just yet. “It would be unprofessional.”

  “Oh, and you’ve been such a pro tonight.” Riley pulled her toward him gently so he could look over her shoulder. “There is no zipper on this dress.”

  “It’s Lycra,” Nell said. “It pulls on. With a great deal of effort.”

  “Good thing I’m a strong guy,” Riley said, reaching for the hem.

  “Nope.” Nell pushed his hand away. “I’m not having sex with you. You’re an infant.”

  “An older woman,” Riley said. “Good. Teach me everything you know.” He pulled her to him again, and she put her arms around him and kissed him back because he was really good at it, and he fell slowly back onto the daybed with her on top of him. “I’m a beginner at this,” he said, “so you’ll have to tell me everything I’m doing wrong.”

  He slipped his hand between her legs and she said, “Well, that for starters.”

  “Too soon?”

  His hand slid away and she felt vaguely disappointed.

  “We’ll start at the top and work down, then,” he said and kissed her again when she opened her mouth to protest, touching her tongue with his. As soon as this kiss is done, she thought, but when the kiss was done, she was pressed against him, thinking, Necking doesn’t count, especially when you’re with somebody who does it this well, and ten minutes later, when he’d managed to pry the Lycra above her hips, she decided petting didn’t count, either. And shortly after that, she wasn’t thinking at all, just reacting to his mouth and his hands, feeling herself grow hotter the more he touched her, wanting his hands to be rough instead of gentle, but willing to take gentle if that was all she could get. When her dress and his shirt were off, he drew his fingers up her stomach and she shivered against him as he said, “It’s a real shame the way you can’t feel anything.”

  “Don’t gloat,” she said and pressed closer to him, trying to absorb his heat.

  “Nothing to gloat about,” he said. “Yet.”

  Then he began to kiss his way down her body, easing her underpants off with one hand. Nell said, “Uh, wait a minute,” and he said, “No,” into her belly button and kept on going. And ten minutes later, every nerve in Nell’s body thawed and came screaming back to life.

  “Now I’m going to gloat,” Riley said, and then, while Nell tried to catch her breath, he shoved off his pants. I really shouldn’t be doing this, she thought, but he rolled so she was on top of him, kissing her softly, and she clung to him while he slid hard up into her. And then to her amazement and relief, he rocked her back to another short, sharp explosion, clearing out her veins and her brain with cheerfully gentle efficiency.

  “You do that really well,” Nell said when she had her breath back and they were apart again. She felt weirdly good, as if she’d just had
an out-of-body experience, sort of detached but pleased.

  “I practice.” Riley kissed her on the forehead, a brotherly kiss that was also weird, considering they were both naked and he’d just gotten rid of a condom. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” Nell said, not sure. Her body felt wonderful, but her mind was fogging up again, trying to match passion and Riley with anything in her previous existence and getting nowhere. Well, that was good. She was trying to start a new life. Except that now that the rolling around was over, she didn’t feel much different. Cold and embarrassed, but not different. She felt around for her chenille throw, and Riley rolled away from her on the daybed and stood up.

  “Looking for this?” he said, and flipped the throw over her.

  “Thank you.” She struggled to sit up, trying not to look at the large naked man in her apartment, and he dressed while she nonchalantly didn’t watch.

  “Uh, Riley,” she said, when he was buttoning his shirt. “I think—”

  “Well, stop it,” he said, stooping to kiss her again. “Get some sleep, kid, and start again tomorrow. You’ll be up to speed in no time.”

  He was gone before she could figure out a good answer, so she lay back in her bed, the soft chenille around her, and listened to her body. Her mind might be fogged, but her body was pretty clear. Good things had happened.

  “What the hell,” she said and, for the first time since the divorce noticed that there wasn’t anybody there to hear her.

  Maybe it was time to relearn playing well with others.

  Not that she didn’t already have Suze and Margie—

  Suze and Margie. They’d die when they found out what she’d done. Nell laughed out loud, surprising herself again, and then curled up again to fall asleep, marginally cheered by life in general.

  * * *

  Nell smiled as innocently as possible at Gabe when he came down to the office the next morning, but he stopped and stared at her anyway.

  “What?” she said, guilt making her cranky.

  “Your hair looks good,” he said.

  She touched it, surprised. Right, she’d dyed her hair red. “Thank you.”

  “Any particular reason you changed it?”

  “No,” Nell lied, and he stood there, tall and unfathomable, staring at her with those eyes until she said, “Really. No reason. I mean, there was that thing last night, the decoy thing—”

  Gabe nodded.

  “—and Riley said I should look hot—” She flushed because it sounded stupid and because saying “Riley” reminded her of how really stupid she’d been. “—and it was time, I mean, I was looking pretty gray—”

  He nodded again, patient, which made her temper flare.

  “—and this is really none of your business,” she finished, sticking her chin out.

  “I know,” he said. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

  “I don’t want to tell you anything at all,” Nell said and turned back to the computer, ignoring him until he said, “Thanks for making coffee. You can start on the basement today,” and went into his office.

  A minute later, Riley came down from his apartment.

  “Look,” Nell said. “About last night—”

  “It was fun, you appreciate it, you’re feeling much better, but you don’t want to do it again.” Riley picked up his cup and saucer from the shelf and poured his own coffee.

  Actually, I’m not feeling that much better, Nell thought, checking to make sure Gabe’s door was closed all the way. “Right. How did you know?”

  “I told you, you’re in the disposable lover stage. The last thing you want is a relationship, but you do want to know you’re still functioning. Happens to people all the time after a divorce.” He took a sip and said, “This is really good coffee.”

  “Thank you.” Nell sat back in her chair. “For everything.”

  “Oh, my pleasure.” Riley grinned at her. “Just promise me next time you won’t go upstairs with the guy.”

  “I’m not going upstairs with anybody,” Nell said firmly. “I’m not doing that again.”

  “Probably a good idea. Got any friends who’d like to flirt for money?”

  “Yes,” Nell said. “But her husband would have a fit, so probably not.”

  Gabe came out of his office. “There was nothing in the ’78 files,” he told Riley. “So Nell’s going to start on the basement. If you’ve got some time, help her.”

  “You bet,” Riley said, not looking at Nell. “Well, I gotta go do the report from last night.” He evaporated into his office, and Gabe turned to look at Nell.

  “What’s with him?”

  “Late night last night,” Nell said, keeping her eyes on the papers on her desk. “You know, the decoy thing.”

  “Right. How’d that go?”

  Nell handed him the tape without looking at him. “Guilty as sin. Got it right here.”

  “Great,” Gabe said, not taking it. “Make a copy for the files, get the pictures printed, and FedEx the originals to the client with Riley’s report.”

  “Right.”

  “You going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “No.”

  “I will find out eventually. I’m a detective.”

  “No.”

  “Okay,” Gabe said, “the basement is yours,” and went back into his office.

  Oh, yeah, she could see herself explaining this one. “I was trying to jump-start my life so I slept with Riley, but it didn’t work, and I’m a little depressed, but I’m still in there fighting. Any ideas?”

  No.

  Okay, malicious destruction of property hadn’t helped and neither had meaningless sex, even though both had been cheering in the short term. Maybe she was too inner-directed. Maybe she should try to help others.

  There was a dog in New Albany.…

  She got up and went into Gabe’s office. “Listen, this woman came in on Monday and she had this dog problem.”

  Gabe nodded.

  “I think we should do something about it.”

  “No,” Gabe said and went back to the papers on his desk.

  “You can’t just say no,” Nell said, wanting to smack him.

  “Sure I can. I own this place.”

  He was ignoring her, dismissing her, and she felt her blood rise. “You could do it tonight. Just go right in there and grab it and the owner would never find out.”

  “No.”

  Nell pressed her lips together. “It would be the right thing to do.”

  “It would be breaking the law.”

  “It would still be the right thing to do.”

  Gabe looked up at her, his brows drawn together. “Do you want me to physically remove you from this office?”

  Nell met his dark, dark eyes and, to her immense surprise, felt a shiver go through her. Yes. Then she stepped back. One night with Riley and she was looking for it everywhere. Honestly. “No, sir.”

  “Then leave under your own power,” Gabe said.

  Nell gave up and left, conscious he was watching her as she went. She closed the door behind her and went back to her desk to pick up the phone.

  “I need some help tonight at ten,” Nell said when Suze answered.

  “Sure,” Suze said. “What are we doing?”

  Nell looked over her shoulder to make sure Gabe wasn’t standing in his doorway. “We’re kidnapping a dog,” she whispered. “Wear black.”

  * * *

  Gabe distracted himself with agency business and idle speculation about Nell’s next move in the fight for the dog until she came in later that afternoon, holding a large green ledger, and said, “I may have found something in the basement, but I’m not sure.”

  Gabe looked at her, still immaculate in her pale gray suit. “In the basement. How do you stay so clean?”

  “It’s a gift.” Nell put the ledger down on his desk. “I have a question first. The files from ’78 show a break about halfway through. The first five months are really well organized, and then every
thing goes to hell. Did you shift secretaries?”

  “Yes,” Gabe said.

  “Bad decision,” Nell said. “You should have kept the first one because the files are garbage after that.”

  “The first one was my mother,” Gabe said. “She left.”

  “Oh.” Nell straightened a little. “Sorry. Well, the good news is that she didn’t leave until June of that year, so if you’re looking for something before or around the twenty-seventh of May, it’s easier.”

  Gabe pulled the ledger toward him and opened it to the place she’d marked with a slip of paper. “What’s this?”

  “Financial ledger from 1978. That’s the only Ogilvie entry that doesn’t match something in the files,” Nell said. “But then it wouldn’t. It’s for flowers.”

  “Flowers?” Gabe said, running his fingers down the page.

  “For a funeral,” Nell said, just as Gabe found it: Flowers, Ogilvie funeral, written in his mother’s strong, dark hand.

  A funeral. “Who died?” Gabe said, trying to stay calm. “We’ll have to check the newspaper files—”

  “Maybe not,” Nell said, sitting down across from him. “I think I know.”

  He looked up at her and she swallowed.

  “Okay, I’m not sure, I’ll have to check,” she said. “But that would have been a year after I married Tim.”

  Twenty-two years ago, he thought automatically. She must have been as young as Chloe.

  “And Tim’s brother, Stewart,” Nell went on, “had married Margie Ogilvie that spring. And shortly after that, Margie’s mother died. Helena.”

  “Trevor’s wife,” Gabe said and sat back. “Olivia is twenty-two. Helena died in childbirth?”

  Nell shook her head. “Margie’s parents were getting a divorce. And then her mother died, and Margie’s dad married again, fast, and Olivia was born almost right away. I know Margie was really upset, but she never said anything about it and I never asked. We weren’t close then.”

  “How did Helena die?” Gabe said, praying it was something straightforward, in a hospital, with a lot of doctors around.

  “She shot herself,” Nell said, and Gabe thought, Oh, Christ, this is going to be bad. “I’m not sure about the details,” Nell went on, speeding up, “except that Margie was there and it was awful.”