Two For the Show Page 8

  “I was worried about you.” I admit finally.

  “You werrrrrrre...crying.” Dutch says.

  I look away, but his hand touches mine which is on the bed next to him. “I’m ssssorrry I made you…cry.”

  When I turn to meet his gaze, I realize he is not just talking about tonight.

  I suck in a deep breath. “You’re forgiven.”

  I sit with him awhile longer, watching him drift in and out of sleep until a nurse comes and checks his levels.

  “Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Haverford, you’re good to go.” She removes his IV from his arm and covers the spot with cotton and a Band-Aid.

  “Oh,” I stand. “I’m not his wife.”

  The nurse raises an eyebrow. “Oh. I’m sorry, I just thought...”

  “He’s just my boss.” I stutter. “This happened at work...well, not at work, at our office Christmas party, and I was there...”

  I realize I am rambling now, so I just stop speaking. Dutch sits up and slowly swings his legs off the bed.

  “Sssso, I can go hommme?”

  He is still slurring a little and when he stands, he grabs the bed to catch his balance.

  The nurse glances at him. “I would suggest you wait for about an hour. After that, yes, but you should have someone monitor you for the next couple hours. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Surrrre,” he grins and drops an arm over my shoulder. “Carrrrrrrie can do that. Rrrright, Carrrrre?”

  The nurse gives me a knowing look, and I close my eyes briefly. So much for me trying to appear innocent.

  Thankfully, Dutch is in a wheelchair and not leaning against me when he gets checked out and put into a cab. But the walk up to his condo is all on me. It is enough to make up for the workout I have missed the past couple days.

  “Keys please.”

  Dutch manages to fish them out of his pocket and hand them to me without leaning up from my shoulder. I unlock the door and stumble through the dimly lit entryway, dumping him on the first surface low enough for sitting.

  “Ohh, Carrrre,” he slurs, his eyes closed, a silly smile on his face “You take such good carrrrre of me.”

  “Mhmm. That’s my whole problem.” I mutter. “While I take care of you, who’s taking care of me?”

  After locking the door, I find the lights and take a good look around. It looks the same as the last time I was here when I helped his sister surprise him for his birthday. The only addition is the huge Christmas tree in the corner which almost brushed the roof. I smile, as I think of how Dutch must have cleaned out an entire department store worth of ornaments to hang on the tree.

  “Not bad, Mr. Haverford.”

  The only response I get is snoring. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath for what is next.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  I shake him awake long enough to move him over to the couch and into a lying position. I am about to remove his arm from my neck when his grip suddenly tightens.

  “Carrie?”

  I look up at him and realize he is completely alert. My heart beats faster as he stares at me, his face only inches from mine.

  “Yeah?” My voice sounds strangled in my throat. It is my turn to have trouble breathing.

  “Thank you.” His voice is deep and husky, his warm breath caressing my face. “Thanks for sssstaying with me...in the ambulance…the hospital...taking me home.”

  I shrug as much as is possible. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Wrong.” His barely-open eyes drop to my mouth, and my lips suddenly feel dry. “It’s a big deal. A very big deal.”

  I know what is going to happen next, but I cannot stop it. And if I am honest, I don’t really want to. It doesn’t matter anyway. Dutch is so high off the medication, he won’t remember any of it tomorrow.

  But I will.

  I will definitely remember the way he leans in. The electricity that bolts up my spine the moment his lips touch mine. The feeling of bliss at the slow caress of his mouth. The way my eyes slide close almost automatically as I get lost in the sensation. I have been kissed hundreds of times, but it has never felt like this. Ever. Yes, this one I will definitely remember.

  But Dutch won’t. For as soon as it is over, he falls back onto the couch, his eyes closed. I stand there hunched over the couch, frozen in time, until I hear him snoring and realize he is asleep. Nonetheless, my heart pounds like a jackhammer in my chest.

  And it keeps pounding as I pull off his shoes and toss the comforter from his bed over him on the couch. By the time I finally sit down, it is 2am. Kicking off my own shoes, I curl up on the loveseat across from him and watch him sleep. Once I am sure he is fine, I’ll let myself out. Once my heart slows down and blood starts flowing to my brain again, I’ll go.

  Just an hour should do it.

  Or maybe the rest of my life. Because after that kiss from Dutch - conscious or not - I am not sure I can ever recover.

  Chapter 14

  “Well, aren’t you going to wake her?”

  “Shhh...keep your voice down.”

  “Don’t tell me to keep my voice down! Carrie is asleep in your living room at seven in the morning. Are you sure all that happened was an allergic reaction?”

  I wake to the sound of voices in hushed whispers. I try to move but find myself buried under a heavy blanket in a deep but comfortable loveseat. I crack my eyes open to blinking lights. Blinking Christmas lights.

  Where am I?

  “She just needs some time to rest. She had a hard time last night.”

  “Well, if she had to lug your heavy behind around, I bet she did. Did you apologize to her, by the way?”

  “Of course I apologized to her.”

  “You better. I don’t know why she puts up with you. I would have quit years ago.”

  Dutch’s condo. I can hear him in the kitchen arguing with his sister. I try to stretch my feet to the ground, getting up with as little noise as possible, but my legs don’t seem to be awake yet and I find myself tumbling off the couch onto the floor in a tangle of blankets and plum dress.

  “Ugh, that had to hurt.”

  “Sounded painful.”

  I look up to find Dutch and his sister Claudia standing over me, one looking amused and the other concerned.

  “Are you okay?” Claudia asks with a small frown. She glares at Dutch. “I can’t believe you let her sleep on that cramped thing.”

  Dutch reaches down and scoops his hands under my knees and around my back, lifting me and placing me in a sitting position on the loveseat.

  “She’s fine,” he says, helping me get untangled from the blanket. “Aren’t you, Care?”

  I look up and catch his eye, the twinkle of mischief in them holding my gaze to his.

  Did he remember?

  “She is not fine,” Claudia whacks him with the back of her hand. “You made her sleep on this thing. You are giving her the day off work.”

  “No, it’s okay, Claudia.” I rub my eyes and stifle a yawn. “I’m fine. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

  I stand to my feet. “I’ll just go...”

  “Not before you have breakfast,” Claudia orders. “Dutch, get her a toothbrush, please and something to wear. Your clothes will probably swim on her, but I have some clothes here from the last time I stayed over with the kids.”

  “Claudia, really, you don’t have to,” I begin. “I just live a train ride over—”

  “Honey, have you looked outside?”

  I walk over to the window and gasp.

  “Yeah, it’s been snowing like the day after tomorrow all night.” She is already on her way back to the kitchen. “Why do you think it took me so long to get over here? It finally stopped this morning, but they’re still clearing the roads. Nobody’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “Where are the kids?” I am still too amazed at the scene outside to turn away from the window.

  “Asleep in the guest room.”

  I turn around at the sound of Dutch’s
voice. He has a lazy content half smile on his face and sweatpants and a hoodie in his hand.

  “As cute as you look in that dress, I think these would be more comfortable.”

  I avoid his gaze as I shuffle over and retrieve the clothing. Then without looking up, I escape to the bathroom to change and brush my teeth. Even after I am done, I still need more time to process, so I sit on the edge of the tub.

  What is going on? I am in Dutch’s home on a weekday morning, dressed in his sister’s pants and what I know is his sweatshirt. It smells just like him, like the Gain detergent he uses and the woodsy scent he wears. I wanted to hold it up to my nose for the rest of my life.

  No!

  What am I thinking? This is Dutch. My boss. The man I work with every day. Who I work for everyday. I couldn’t think about him like this.

  But what about that kiss?

  That kiss.

  Lord help me. If I was a praying girl, I would pray for some direction right now. But I haven’t prayed in a long time. Not since…

  No, I couldn’t go there either. I don’t need that drama on my mind right now.

  Okay. Focus, Carrie. Eat breakfast. Call a cab. Get out of here. That is the plan.

  I head out of the bathroom and drop my dress on the arm of the chair. I can hear squealing and know Dutch is probably in the guest room playing with his niece and nephew. I will be safe in the kitchen where Claudia is already frying up turkey bacon and making my stomach growl.

  Four pieces for you, Carrie?” She glances over at me. “Better make that six. You could use some meat on those bones.”

  I roll my eyes and take the bread down from the top of the fridge. “It’s gonna take more than a couple pounds for me to look as fabulous as you, Claudia. That booty’s pretty fly for a white girl.”

  “You can thank my two little rascals for that,” she says. “That baby weight fell in the right place, girl.”

  I laugh as I pop the slices into the toaster. I like Claudia. Liked her the first moment I met her when she walked into Prism and introduced herself to me as Dutch’s boss.

  “So, I heard my baby brother flipped out on you the other day over your married boyfriend.”

  I sigh. “He’s not my boyfriend. Just a guy I’m seeing. And like I told Dutch, he’s separated. Almost divorced.”

  “I know,” Claudia keeps her eyes on the sizzling pan. “Sometimes I think my divorce affected Dutch more than it affected me. But you do know that’s not the reason Dutch is going crazy over it, right?”

  “I told him Sebastien and I never discussed anything related to Prism. We never even discussed anything related to his business in the US.”

  “Honey, please,” Claudia laughs. “Dutch doesn’t care about Sebastien and the company. Dutch cares about Sebastien and you. Seeing you with that man was like a kick to his behind.”

  Claudia shakes her head. “I can just imagine the look on his face when you walked up to that restaurant with that man. He must have lost his mind.”

  “Claudia, you’re insane.”

  “And you’re blind if you can’t see that my brother has a thing for you.”

  The plates I am taking from the shelf nearly fall from my hands. I glance back at her and shake my head.

  “No, Claudia, I think you have it wrong.”

  Claudia flips a piece of bacon. “Honey, I may not be right about many things, but I know my brother.”

  I put the plates on the counter and lean against it briefly, my head spinning. Dutch is interested in me? This can’t be happening. I am so out of it, I almost don’t hear the doorbell until it rings a third time.

  “Carrie, can you get that? I am covered with grease.”

  Still in a daze, I head to the hallway and pull the door open.

  “What are you doing here?” Gina glares at me from the other side of the door, her face displaying the same unpleasant shock that is probably printed on mine. I fold my arms and decide to enjoy the moment.

  “I spent the night.”

  If Gina’s jaw had hit the floor any harder, it would have cracked.

  “You!”

  “Who’s there, Carrie?” Claudia calls.

  “It’s Gina.”

  I could hear Claudia’s scowl from down the hallway. My dislike for Gina came naturally, but Claudia earned hers fair and square when Gina was rude to her on the phone before she knew Claudia was Dutch’s sister. I bet that was one conversation Gina wished she could do over.

  “Clauds, is that you?”

  I roll my eyes and close the door behind Gina as she brushes past me in a cloud of Elizabeth Arden. She must have hopped a snow plow to make it over to Dutch’s apartment this early through the chaos outside.

  “How are you, Gina?” Claudia asks as she drops pancake batter on the griddle.

  “Oh, so worried about Dutch. Where is he?”

  She looks around the kitchen before poking her head into the living room.

  “I’m here,” Dutch appears at the kitchen entrance with his niece over one shoulder and his nephew slung under his arm, both squealing.

  “Dutch, you better put my children down,” Claudia warns. “If you break them, you’ve bought them.”

  “Looks like the whole gang is here,” Dutch settles each child on a stool.

  “So glad to see you’re doing better, baby,” Gina flings her arms around his shoulders and tips up to kiss him. Claudia and I exchange a completely unplanned look of gagging. Her daughter catches it and starts laughing.

  “Yeah, so I’m gonna go,” I head back to the living room to grab my stuff.

  “Carrie, you don’t have to.”

  I glance over at Gina who has Dutch almost in a headlock. “Yes, I do.”

  “I’ll make you a plate,” Claudia offers.

  I retrieve my dress and purse and head to the door.

  “Dutch, I think I’ll take that day off. I’ll see you Monday.” I ruffle the kids’ hair as I pass them. “Bye, cutie pies. Claudia...”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  She follows me to the door and hands me the plate wrapped in foil as I step out.

  “Remember what I said.”

  I smile. “Merry Christmas, Claudia.”

  “You too, girl. See you soon!”

  I laugh as I head away from Dutch’s condo. It might be cold outside, but I would rather be knee deep in snow than knee deep in all that drama. I have enough to deal with in my own life.

  Chapter 15

  Carina’s dinner with Sebastien Friday evening turned into an all-night affair. Despite his whining, however, I manage to slip out after Saturday morning breakfast, so I can meet up with Delia. We shop for a bit then head back to my apartment, order pizza and sit in my bed in PJs watching movies.

  “So we’ve watched Pretty Woman, Trading Places and The Girl Next Door,” Delia comments. “Is this a hookers with a heart of gold marathon?”

  “Maybe.” I retort digging through the box for another slice of pizza. “Can’t a girl just feel good about her life for a moment?”

  “You are not a hooker. We are not hookers,” Delia said using her slice of pizza as a pointer. “We are...”

  “...sophisticated female companions,” we both finish together.

  Delia took a bite of her slice. “Momma sure raised us well.”

  “Yeah,” I say dryly. “Look how sophisticated you are, talking with your mouth full of pizza.”

  Delia makes a face and takes a second bite.

  “She found out.”

  I stop rummaging and look up at Delia.

  “Jayden?”

  Delia nods. She is slumped against the headboard, her baseball cap pulled so low I can’t see anything above her nose. The flatness of her tone worries me.

  “How?”

  “She found a picture of the two of us that I kept in my desk drawer,” Delia answers. “She asked me if this was the guy from Connecticut I was seeing and if his father was a state trooper. She already knew everything about him.”


  “What did she say when you confirmed it?”

  “Nothing.”

  I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. I almost wish Cordelia had said something, that she had lost her temper with Delia or forbid her to see Jayden. The fact that she said nothing at all meant that she was storing the information for later; saving it for the moment when she could use it against Delia to get exactly what she wanted.

  The woman is pure evil.

  “What should I do?”

  “Nothing.” I get up off the bed and take the empty boxes and napkins to the kitchen. “You can’t do anything until she plays the cards she has.”

  “But she will play it, won’t she?” Delia folds her arms. “She’s gonna ruin this for me.”

  Or ruin you if you try to hold on to it. But I can’t tell Delia that. That is a lesson she has to learn on her own. Unless I do something.

  “Hey, I’ve been thinking...”

  “Yeah?” Delia mutters uninterested.

  I come back into the bedroom and sit at the foot of the bed facing her. “What if you didn’t have to work for Mother anymore?”

  Delia looks up. “What do you mean?”

  I take a deep breath. “I mean...I guess we never talk about it, but I just assumed…”

  Delia looks at me as if I was crazy.

  “Okay, I’ll just ask. Do you like working for her?” I finally spit out. “I mean, do you like getting paid to be an escort, doing...things...with these men?”

  It seems like a stupid question, but it wasn’t. I have met a couple of women during my time with Cordelia that do like the life. They love the attention they get from men and the ‘power’ to control them with their bodies. Amanda is one of those women. She has never said it, but I know. Delia, however, didn’t seem like the type. But one can never be sure.

  “No! Of course not,” Delia sits up. “I hate the way they look at me and touch me.”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief. Thank God.

  “And when I have to...” She let out a breath. “When I have to sleep with them...”

  My eyes widen. “Mother makes you do that!”

  Delia’s eyes drop to the covers. “Just once... She says every woman does it. We just get paid well for it.”