Turbulence Page 9

  “Great.” Her voice grew deeper, more serious. “Just to clarify, it doesn’t bother me, Iz. But I get it if you’re feeling unwell and want to be alone.”

  What was she saying? She didn’t mind that I had my period, and that sex would be okay, or she didn’t mind being around me without the prospect of sex? I cleared my throat. “No, it’s fine. It’s good. I’d like you to come over. I just got in, so whenever you’re ready.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  She arrived sooner than that. The moment I was in reach, I was grabbed and hugged, takeout bags pressing against my back. Her kiss was gentle. “Hi,” she said, still barely an inch away from me.

  “Hi yourself.” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and stepped aside to let her through into the kitchen.

  We settled on my couch to eat and watch the TV. Halfway through the first film, I nudged her gently. “You’re right. This is cute.”

  Audrey caught my eye and gave me a told you so look. We’d moved so I was sprawled against her, my legs stretched along the couch. Her arm was over mine, thumb rubbing over the fabric of my long sleeved tee. Back and forth constantly, rhythmically.

  By the time we started the second movie, it was a little after ten. We’d shifted even more to lie on the couch. I was practically lying on her, my head against her breasts listening to her steady heartbeat until the credits started. I craned my neck. She was asleep.

  I couldn’t wake her to send her home at midnight. Staying on my couch wasn’t against the rules, was it? I made an executive decision, something I was good at, and decided sleeping on couches was allowable under such circumstances.

  Ninjas worldwide would have envied me as I slipped off her, and out from under her arm to fetch a blanket. Those same ninjas would have made me their queen when I covered her and bent down like a sappy idiot to brush my nose over her hair, and she didn’t even stir. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of her shampoo then took one last look at her face, softened by sleep, and went to bed alone.

  I couldn’t fall asleep. I spent an hour lying awake thinking about her asleep on my couch. Fretting. I should have woken her up and moved her into the spare room. Or in my bed. Audrey was gone when I woke in the morning, a neatly folded blanket on the couch the only mark of her presence.

  * * *

  It was Wednesday when we next saw each other, exchanging short polite work sentences and nothing more when she flew me to Syracuse and back again. Wednesday was enforced night apart. Awful. Thursday I had a fundraiser and she had painting class. Friday dinner with clients. Saturday morning catching up on work. I drifted through my engagements until it was Saturday night and I was at her apartment.

  We attacked each other with a ferocity borne of forced abstinence. Begging harder, faster, deeper and more, always more. On her couch, at her table, in her bed. Limp and satisfied, I closed my eyes to gather my thoughts and woke well after dawn, confused. Audrey was spooning me, an arm under my neck to cup my breast and the other wrapped tightly around my waist. Legs tangled, breath on my neck. It felt like the first time I’d awoken in her arms, also accidental. It felt like a different lifetime. I trudged through memories. A month ago? I tightened up my calculation. Thirty-nine days ago.

  Arms came snugly around me. “Morning.”

  I rubbed my eyes and my mouth. No doubt I’d drooled. “Sorry, big week,” I apologized in a sleep-hoarse voice. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  She released me to stretch, her limbs quivering. “Don’t worry about it, Iz.”

  So I didn’t.

  The next change to the routine happened organically, with no words exchanged. We started bringing clothes in overnight bags. Toothbrushes and some clothes were left behind. Spare contacts and solution sat in her bathroom cabinet. I gave her a pass so she could use my garage space in the building for her vintage-looking motorcycle, and told security she could be let up even if I wasn’t there. The night driver told the morning shift if they needed to fetch me from Audrey’s apartment instead of my penthouse.

  We talked, we ate, we laughed, we fucked and we slept intertwined. But Audrey Graham and I were not dating.

  Chapter Nine

  About a week after menstrual movie night, I sat home waiting for Audrey to arrive. An hour or so before she was due, I received a text. Sorry, still out with friends, won’t make it over tonight. Tomorrow?

  Disappointment stung before I could clamp down on my feelings. I tapped out a quick reply. I have that interview and photo thing, not sure when I’ll be done. Friday?

  Sounds great.

  Have fun.

  It was okay to say that, right? I could express an interest in her enjoyment of activities unrelated to me? After a moment, I realized my phone was clenched tight in my fist. I released it and dialed Nat.

  My friend picked up where we’d left off last week. “So you’re still seeing her?”

  “Yeah.” I cringed, waiting for a smart-assed response.

  “Seven weeks, Rhodes. She must be a fucking great lay.”

  “She is.” I flung my arm over my eyes. “Nat…there’ve been sleepovers.”

  “Sounds like it’s moving into more than that casual you’ve been ramming down my throat every time we talk.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “I like her a whole lot. She’s smart, funny and so fucking sexy I get wet just looking at her.”

  “Why do I sense there’s a but coming up?”

  I smiled. “But, we agreed not to date. Just sex and enjoyment.”

  “But?” Nat prompted again.

  “But, I think I just got upset about not seeing her tonight.”

  “Rhodes, I love you so much but you need to get some balls. I know you’re scared of what might happen but if you don’t throw your line in, you’re never going to catch a fish.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. However, you need to start being honest or you’re going to lose what you’ve got. Honey, I gotta go. Jill just got home, and she’ll kill me if I don’t help her bring groceries in. I’ll try to call tomorrow and we can talk more.”

  “Give Jill my love.”

  “Will do.”

  I swapped my cell for my tablet. My week was ridiculous. Tomorrow in Toledo by myself then back for dinner with an old client. A client who’d left Rhodes and Hall but still insisted on inviting me to dinner parties. I always went, and made sure to drop in hints about how well my current clients’ accounts were doing. Meetings all day Wednesday and Thursday. Phoenix again Friday with Mark. Saturday free, fundraiser planning lunch Sunday. I was tired just thinking about my schedule.

  Now Audrey wasn’t coming over, my evening looked bare and uninspiring. I ate a banana for dinner and passed time by making small changes to my personal portfolio and trying to plan a vacation. Though it was still over six months until February, when I usually spent two weeks somewhere tropical, it wouldn’t hurt to start a shortlist. Beaches, booze and bikinis—both wearing and looking at other women in them—did wonders for my mental health. This year I’d vacationed in the Caribbean, next year was as yet undecided.

  After hours of research, I narrowed it down to Song Saa in Cambodia or Bedarra on the Great Barrier Reef. Mark had been there a few years ago and said it was great. Translating great from typically understated Mark-speak meant it was fucking amazing. I emailed my travel agent and asked for details about each destination. For one person and also for two. Audrey might like a vacation too. Or Mama. Whatever.

  I went to bed alone and woke every few hours. A slow kind of wakefulness, the sort where I couldn’t figure out why. Okay, maybe it was because I was starting to get used to not being alone in my bed. Used to being tangled in her long limbs with soft, rhythmic breathing beside me. The smell of her when I’d roll over and burrow into her.

  I was not all together when Penny picked me up just before seven. My eyes were heavy, stomach churning with that nauseous hardly-slept sensatio
n. Maybe we talked about an upcoming Yankees game on the drive to the airport. I’m pretty sure I thought about the dinner I had to attend that night.

  My feet were heavy on the jet’s stairs. The greeting I gave Georgia felt a little forced, but under the circumstances, it was the best I could do. Audrey was already in the cockpit and aside from a polite hello before she turned back to do whatever it was she was doing, my interaction with her was zero. I couldn’t help it—I felt put out. She’s working, I told myself. She’s working for you, trying to get you somewhere safely, not socializing.

  Buckled into my seat, I waited for the announcement that we were ready to depart. My work cell rang with an unknown number. “Isabelle Rhodes.”

  “Ms. Rhodes? It’s Richard.” Auditor. Interesting.

  “Richard, how are you?” I examined my manicure and made a mental note to ask for the same shade again.

  “I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”

  I hated back and forth greetings like this. I’m good, you’re good, everyone’s always good. I stared out the window at a small jet taking off. “I’m good. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s an anomaly with Mr. Hall’s quarterly report and I can’t reach him. I’ve been trying now for nearly a week. His phone keeps going to voice mail and he hasn’t returned my messages. Your office says he’s unavailable.”

  An anomaly. I unbuckled, stood up and moved toward the aircraft door. This conversation wasn’t one I could have here, where I’d be overheard. “Richard, honestly I’m not sure what’s happening or why he hasn’t had returned your calls.”

  “Yes it’s very odd, Ms. Rhodes.”

  From behind, I heard commotion and Audrey’s voice calling, “Ms. Rhodes?”

  I spared her a glance but continued down the stairs onto the tarmac. Ms. Rhodes, Ms. Rhodes. Ms. Fucking Rhodes. I kept walking away from the jet. “Richard, what kind of anomaly are you talking about?”

  He paused. “I would prefer to discuss it with Mr. Hall first.”

  “If there’s a problem, I need to know about it. What’s going on?”

  “All I need is for you to get Mark to contact me. It doesn’t concern you.” He was so condescending, he may as well have added Little Girl to the end of his statement.

  I was not Mark’s fucking PA, or one of our receptionists. Sucking in a breath, I tried desperately to keep my temper in check. I was about seventy percent successful. “Of course it concerns me! Mark and I are equal partn—”

  “Ms. Rhodes, I cannot have this conversation with you. Have Mr. Hall return my calls.” Then the bastard hung up on me.

  A firecracker of rage exploded in my brain. Typical misogynistic bullshit. It was always there, lurking in the background of this testosterone-driven financial boys’ club. It was all right for me to bring in more revenue for the business than Mark, but God forbid I should worry my pretty little head about something like an audit anomaly.

  “Fuck!” I slashed my fist through the air. I did not need this right now.

  “Ms. Rhodes,” Audrey repeated behind me, voice calm.

  “What!” I turned around, feeling the heat of anger on the tips of my ears and my neck. When faced with Potentially Explosive Isabelle, most people chose one of three options. Flee, climb up my ass with flattery, or approach me like I was rabid. Audrey chose none of those. Her posture was confident but not aggressive. I was suddenly struck by how she didn’t look at all wary.

  Instead, she looked amused, almost sympathetic. “It’s not safe to be using your phone out here,” she said.

  I shook my head, lifted the phone again and asked it to, “Call Mark.”

  After two rings, he answered, “Yes, Belle?”

  Turning away from Audrey, I lowered my voice. “It’s me. Richard just called me. Firstly, what’s this anomaly he mentioned and secondly, why are you avoidin’ his calls?” I paused, grinding my teeth. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Oh, that,” he said lightly. “Nothing to worry about. I screwed up the date range on my first report and must have sent that through instead of the correct one. I’m not avoiding him, I’m busy, Belle and getting around to calling him back.”

  I grunted, not at all mollified. “Well, get around to it soon. I don’t appreciate being used as your fucking secretary.” The volume of my voice rose with my temper. “If he wants to do that, he can damned well fill me in on what’s going on because I’m just as important and entitled to information as you are.”

  “Nothing’s going on,” Mark said instantly. His voice was calm and even, and I believed him. But his explanation didn’t take the edge off my anger at being treated like a silly girl who was just playing at being a stockbroker. He sighed. “And I’m sure Richard didn’t mean anything by it.”

  The fact that Mark didn’t understand how I felt made my temper peak again. “Of course. Silly me. Maybe I mistake the fact that he always addresses you and not me in meetings, yeah? It’s clearly my imagination that despite the fact my accounts outperform yours, he thinks you’re some sort of fucking stockbroking god.”

  “Belle…”

  “I have to go,” I spat out. “The jet’s waiting.” Surprisingly, the screen on my phone didn’t break when I slammed my finger down to disconnect the call.

  I pivoted back toward the jet. And Audrey. My anger had carried me beyond rationality and now I was faced with the prospect of trying to regain my composure in front of her. A woman who’d seen me laid bare physically, and now emotionally. A woman who certainly didn’t deserve to be ignored and spoken to the way I feared I was about to. A woman about whose opinion I cared a great deal.

  Audrey’s shoulders lifted, her gaze on me. “I’m sorry, Ms. Rhodes but it really is dangerous to use your phone out here, particularly if we’re refueling.” She made a little exploding gesture, a small smile on her lips.

  Most people would agree and then apologize. Not me. Not now. I held up my hands and looked around in mock confusion. “I don’t see any fuel tankers.” I hated this part of myself, the inability to just let go and turn my annoyance off. It was my most shameful trait, needing to hold onto the indignation until I’d wrung it dry. I couldn’t even blame PMS. I couldn’t blame anything but me.

  Audrey said nothing. Just watched me, her face impassive. I raised my chin in a silent challenge. Here I am in all my pushy, nasty control freak glory, being rude to you because I can’t stop myself. Come and get it. Do you still want me?

  Audrey’s response was a slow smile. A head tilt. In that moment, I felt she understood me better than anyone else. “Ms. Rhodes, if you’d like to board again, we’re ready to depart when you are.”

  * * *

  For the rest of the day, I hid behind my shame and lingering annoyance. After Audrey’s calm handling of my outburst, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her again. She’d responded to my apology text, assuring me everything was fine, but I wanted to talk to her. Needed to.

  My dinner ran late, too late to visit her afterward. I went home to my empty bed and swallowed half an Ambien from an old bottle at the back of my medicine cabinet. Despite drugging myself, I kept waking worried and then worried about being worried. Why was it so important that she think well of me? Somewhere around two and three a.m. I had a revelation. I cared about her and I cared about what she thought. Caring was more than liking. Fuck.

  The deeper I delved into my realization the more I knew it was my own fault. Little by little she’d been sneaking up on me, breaking me down. I knew exactly what she was doing and I let it happen. More than letting it happen, I welcomed it.

  In the beginning, I wondered what the harm was in giving and taking a little more. Meals, movies, sleeping over. They wouldn’t hurt in the long run, right? As we spent more time together, I found myself looking at her differently and now that I knew why and how I felt, it scared the shit out of me.

  All day Wednesday my body was one tight knot, so tense and tired I could barely concentrate. Mark w
as acting like nothing was wrong, and I assumed he’d taken care of his report to the auditor. I snapped at him when he tried to make a joke about how I needed to get laid again, coming within a microsecond of telling him I had been thank you very much.

  After the office emptied, I ran downstairs and instructed William to take me to Audrey’s apartment. Enforced night apart be damned. I had to see her.

  My stomach felt like it was trying to crawl up my esophagus as I pressed the button for her apartment. I should have called. Maybe she’d gone out with friends. Or somewhere to pick up a nicer, less-prone-to-outbursts casual fuck buddy. William stood a few feet away, waiting to see that I’d been admitted and for a moment, I wished Penny were there. She’d be attempting to get me to relax, talking about the Yankees latest win or something equally as engaging.

  Finally the intercom buzzed. “Hello?”

  My mouth was so dry I could barely talk. “Audrey? It’s me. Can I come up?”

  “Iz? Absolutely.”

  The door clicked and I rushed to it, spurring William into action. He held it open for me, standing awkwardly like he was trying to avoid the bubble he’d deemed my personal space. “Is everything all right, Ms. Rhodes?” Eyebrows furrowed, eyes worried. I wondered what his expression would be if something bad actually happened.

  “Yes, thanks for waiting.”

  He flushed. “It’s my pleasure, Ms. Rhodes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I heard him tugging the building door to check the lock as I walked across the lobby. Both he and Penny did that now and the thought of their collective concern filled me with such deep comfort that I thought I might cry. I’d almost cried when flowers had arrived from a client that morning.

  Coupled with losing my shit over the auditor’s call, I’d concluded that obviously I was feeling a touch emotional. Maybe it was hormones. Note to self: tell the doctor about it at your next physical. Second note to self: book overdue physical. As the elevator climbed, I practiced what I wanted to say to Audrey. Sometimes I yell at people. I don’t really mean it. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.