Power Play (8 page)

Perhaps he was right. She couldn’t fight it and there could be some victory in surrender. She didn’t want to marry him, after all. He could be a transitional affair—she’d use him to get him out of her system, and then she’d move on. Mary walked to her apartment with growing hope, but a note under her door soon sent her crashing back to earth.

“Y
ou’re not renewing my lease?” Mary said to the leasing agent. His name was Nigel Harris, and he had the most pristine brown goatee Mary had ever seen, but he smelled of pickles and mayonnaise. His office was far too neat to be of any real purpose, and she wondered what he did all day.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“But I can pay.”

He clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk. “Unfortunately, now that your boyfriend no longer lives with you, you don’t qualify for this apartment. You’re not at the right income level. It’s a new policy. You can stay for another thirty days.”

Mary crossed her legs and glanced skyward. “I don’t believe this.”

The man’s voice changed to something indulgent. “However, we may be able to get around it.”

She looked at him, catching his gaze fall to her fishnet-clad legs. “How?”

“If you’d like to discuss it somewhere a little more private I could be very obliging.”

“Oh, really?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

She stood.

“Where are you going?”

“To throw up.” She swung open the door. “The sight of you makes me sick.”

The next day Mary set off early in the morning to find who she could stay with until she found a new place. She didn’t want to stay with her brothers—one lived in a dump, and the other had an obnoxious seven-year-old she had the misfortune of calling her niece. She had an aunt who lived in Maryland also, but it would be a two-hour commute from her place to work.

As the weeks dwindled down into days, Mary began to panic. She called Rania, but she’d gone on vacation and couldn’t be reached. Three days before she had to move, she decided to call Sara although they hadn’t spoken in a while.

“I would love to help you,” Sara said. “But we loaned our extra room to Larry’s nephew.”

Mary’s throat tightened with tears. She had nowhere else to turn. In three days she would be out on the street. “Okay.”

“Mary, I feel awful.”

“I’ll be okay,” Mary said in a bright voice as tears slid down her cheeks. “Don’t worry about me.” She hung up the phone and wiped her tears. “Damn you, Curtis.” The stress of finding a new place had affected her work, as well. Twice she’d forgotten crucial appointments, she was behind on handing in an important document for review and Dianne had had to reprimand her when she’d lost a key to the office conference room.

Mary paced her apartment, seeing the dreams of her promotion fading away. She hadn’t had time to look over the weekly reports Gregory had sent her, and her quarterly report to James was due in two days. No doubt Edmund would be pleased with her lack of focus, but she had to get organized. She had to think. She had to find a place to live.

That evening Mary baked cookies and visited Mrs. McQueeth. The moment the older woman saw her she knew something was wrong. “Who died?”

“Nobody died.”

She took the cookies from Mary. “Well, something must have happened or you wouldn’t be wearing that expression and carrying enough cookies to feed the Army and the Marines.”

Mary sat down in the large recliner. When it started to shake, she leaped to her feet. “What’s going on?”

Mrs. McQueeth hurried over. “You must have touched something.” She pushed a few buttons and the shaking stopped.

“I don’t think that chair is safe,” Mary said staring at it with distrust.

“It’s okay. I had trouble at first, but they showed me how to use everything and they were very patient when I didn’t understand. You can sit down now and tell me what’s wrong.”

Mary decided to sit on a straight-back wooden chair instead. “I have to move out of my apartment within three days, and I don’t know where I’ll go.”

“You can stay with me.”

Mary smiled with regret. “You’re very sweet, but that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Why not?”

“Because as the project supervisor, I have to be objective about this place, and if I stayed here then I couldn’t be.”

“Perhaps you could say that you’re doing a special report. That you want to see how the residents are really living. And don’t forget, part of this new way of living is allowing a select family member or friend to live in the community near to their special ‘senior.’”

Mary bit into a cookie and chewed thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea. I could stay here for a couple of months while I’m looking for more permanent housing. That way I could stay on top of my work obligations, without having to worry about finding a place to live right now.”

“I’m sure that something will come up for you after a month or so. Just tell Mr. Davis of your plan, and that I need you close by.”

“You mean tell Mr. Trent.”

Mrs. McQueeth sent her a knowing look she’d used when Mary was a little girl. “No, I don’t.”

Mary squirmed in her seat. “I couldn’t go to see him.”
I’m supposed to stay away from him.

“If you put it the way I told you to, he won’t know anything. He’s a man with property. Ask him. You can’t lose.”

“How do you know that?”

Mrs. McQueeth’s mouth spread into a smug grin. “Because I know he’ll say yes.”

Edmund stared at Mary incredulously. “You want to stay in one of our residences?”

“Yes.”

His main office suited him: clean, efficient, practical, with expensive but understated furniture. Located only a half hour from the community, it allowed Edmund easy access to his biggest investment. Although Mary thought his office reflected him, she found it odd that she couldn’t find a single family picture, or a picture of any sort, in the room. Instead, he had a collection of snow globes that lined his desk and bookshelves.

“For a month?”

Maybe more.
“Yes.”

“That’s not usually done, is it? I mean a program supervisor—”

“No,” she quickly agreed, wishing she’d been able to schedule time to speak with him sooner. She’d been forced to leave all of her furniture behind in the apartment because she hadn’t wanted to pay to put them in storage. But now all her personal belongings lay stacked in her car, likely roasting in the summer heat. Fortunately, Mrs. McQueeth had agreed to look after Cammie, but if she couldn’t convince Edmund of her plan she and Cammie would be calling her car “home.” She had a love-hate relationship with her car. It made strange noises when on the road but continued to move.

“And what exactly would you do?”

Mary licked her lips, trying to remember what she’d rehearsed with Mrs. McQueeth. “I’ve decided that since this project is about the total living experience that seniors will have, I’d like to live on-site for, let’s say a month, to see it for myself. I will monitor how things actually work. I won’t be there all the time, of course. I have other projects.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I’m listening.”

“I would pay, I hope, a reduced fee for a unit and a nominal fee for any of the services I use.”

He folded his arms.

A cold knot tightened in her stomach and the silence in the room made her skin feel as though it was being stretched from her bones. She couldn’t tell anything by looking at his face. She didn’t know whether she’d convinced him that her idea was good or crazy. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s unnecessary. I’m eager to prove to anyone the benefits of this new community, but you don’t need to live there.”

Mary resisted the urge to fall on her knees and beg. No, she wouldn’t beg. She was above begging.

“Edmund—”

He raised his hand. “I have an idea. I have an apartment building not far from here where you can stay.”

“Okay.”

He drew his eyebrows together. “You don’t sound pleased.”

“I am. Thank you. So when will a unit be ready?”

“When do you need one?”

Tonight.
“When one is available?”

He lifted one of the snow globes and turned it upside down, then right-side up and watched the snowflakes fall on a city scene. “You’re not telling me something.”

A drop of sweat developed on her forehead, despite the cool air from the air conditioner. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t lie very well.” He set the snow globe down and returned his gaze to her face. “But if you need a place immediately, I have a place you can move into right away.”

“I’ll take it.”

“But you don’t know where it is.”

“I don’t care—” she burst out, then quickly added “—as long as it’s close to the community.”

“It’s close.”

She paused. “And it’s not your place.”

Edmund began to smile. “It’s not my place.”

Mary relaxed. “That’s all I need to know.”

“Fine. My assistant will help you with all the paperwork.”

Mary wasn’t prepared for Edmund’s assistant—an older man named Dion with a knife tattooed on his neck, a Mediterranean tan and a physique better suited for a barroom than a business. But Dion was efficient and went through all the paperwork with her. She glanced at the pages without reading every word as she usually did. But when Dion showed her the apartment, she was certain there had been a mistake. The furnished two-bedroom unit was worth three times the agreed-upon rent and had a breathtaking view of the city. Mary moved in immediately.

That night she prepared a special meal for Cammie of collard, turnip and dandelion greens with small pieces of grapes, mango and melon. Cammie ate it as though she hadn’t eaten in days, and Mary ordered in Italian. After dinner, she stood out on the balcony and inhaled the cool scent of the coming rain that hung in the air.

“What do you think?”

Mary gripped the railing and spun to see Edmund standing on the balcony next to hers. She grabbed her robe, holding it tightly so she wouldn’t reveal the satin blue bra and panty underneath. Although his gaze made it seem as though he could. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” He winked. “Sleep tight, neighbor,” he said, then disappeared inside.

M
ary couldn’t sleep that night. She tried not to imagine Edmund eating, watching TV or possibly
showering
only a few feet away. She would be an adult about this. They could be neighbors and she’d be cordial when she saw him, which turned out to be more often than she’d hoped. He had an uncanny knack of leaving his apartment at
exactly
the same time she did. She’d see him in the hallway, in the elevator, in the lobby. But she was determined to remain cool, if friendly.

Mary still considered starting an affair but thought that an affair with a neighbor would provide unnecessary complications. Besides, she had to rebuild her damaged reputation at work, and she did so by going over, with undue earnest, the reports Gregory had given her. She wasn’t pleased with what she read and scheduled another meeting with Gregory. For this meeting she wore metallic, thigh-high stockings and a red-hot suit.

“This is not acceptable,” she told him.

Gregory looked at the reports in her hand. “What do you mean it’s not acceptable?”

“It’s lacking. I had expected more from you.”

“I followed the guidelines.”

“To the barest minimum.” Mary tapped the reports. “This doesn’t tell me anything. When you asked for funding I’m sure your proposal showed more passion.”

“I’m not writing a damn novel—this is a report.”

“And your reports have to demonstrate that this project is one of the best ideas our organization has ever funded. Instead, it will make people question us. You have left out key points.”

“Couldn’t you have told me all of the specifics you wanted before?”

“I’m sorry. My schedule was packed. Don’t worry, I won’t have you rewrite all of them.”

Gregory nearly flew out of his seat. “I have to rewrite them?”

“I want this project to be one of the best.”

“It is.”

“Then write about it.” She stood. “I know you can make this work.”

Gregory nodded. “Right.” He watched her go, then called Edmund. “I thought you were handling her.”

“What?”

“For weeks I’ve gotten by, and then today she comes into my office telling me I have to rewrite my reports. Not
all,
” he said bitterly, “just
some.
”

“Calm down.”

“Calm down? Do you know how much damn time I’m going to have to waste on these? And if she’s starting to look closely at them, what other things will she start looking closely at?”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“I don’t care what you do as long as you get her off my back.”

Somehow Mary wasn’t surprised to see Edmund when she entered the lobby of her apartment complex that evening. He stood by the elevator doors.

“Hello,” she said.

“What’s wrong with the reports?”

“I explained everything to Gregory.”

“And now you’ll explain everything to me.”

“I don’t have time.”

“It will only take a few minutes.”

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside.

“He needs more data,” Mary said. “I want hard facts. Numbers. He’s doing the minimum and he knows it.”

“And you want him to rewrite some of the reports?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t he just write something more in his next report?”

“No.”

“Is this about your promotion?”

“No. Strangely, I like this project and I want to see it succeed. Plus I have a vested interest, if you remember.”

“I remember.”

“Any more questions?”

“Yes, have you ever made love in an elevator?”

Her breath caught. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said in a low, smooth voice like hot cream poured over bread pudding.

“I’ve never even thought about it.” Her nervous fingers toyed with the strap of her handbag. “Have you?”

Edmund loosened his tie. “No, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”

“Oh.”

He rested a hand behind her head and leaned toward her, his eyes like two shiny coins that could hypnotize. She didn’t know how he managed it, but those steely grayish-brown eyes no longer reminded her of the Arctic. She thought of steel melting under an intense heat, and she felt that heat all over, her nipples becoming taut and her skin hot to the touch. “Interested?” he said.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Edmund turned to the small crowd waiting to enter. “This car is full,” he said. The stunned crowd watched the doors close.

Mary stared at him in shock. “I’m not going to make love to you in an elevator.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

“Definitely not,” she said, wanting to tear her gaze away but not finding the strength to.

“But you
are
going to kiss me.” His mouth swooped down to capture hers. Any protest fell away like parchment paper under a hot flame.

She couldn’t resist him any longer. Even if she could, she didn’t want to. She wanted him with a desire so hot it startled her. She’d never wanted someone like this before. At last she could make the fantasies she’d had of the “stranger in the elevator” come true. He was better than she’d imagined. She hadn’t expected his hands to feel as smooth as baby oil against her body. Or that the sound of his fingers lowering the zipper of her skirt could be as intoxicating as the most expensive champagne. She unbuttoned his shirt like a starving woman unwrapping a muffin and took pleasure in his bare chest as though he were a batch fresh from the oven.

They didn’t notice when the elevator stopped on their floor. They kissed all the way back down to the ground level and up again.

When the elevator reached their floor again Mary said, “We can’t keep doing this.”

Edmund slipped his hand under her blouse. “Yes, we can.”

She pulled away from him and opened the doors before they descended again. “No, we can’t.”

He followed her out as though he were being dragged to the gallows. “We could have.”

She took his hand. “But we can do so much more at your place.”

His pace increased. “That’s true.”

Edmund eagerly put the key into his apartment door, but it wouldn’t open. He swore. Mary noticed the blue flashlight on the keychain. “I think those are mine.”

“Oh, right.” He handed her keys back to her, then dug into his trouser pockets, grabbed
his
keys and opened the door. They barely made it inside before they turned to each other, determined to finish what they’d started. Clothes fell unnoticed as they made their way to the bedroom. They didn’t make it there. Mary darted her tongue in Edmund’s ear and he stumbled to the floor, taking her down with him. Mary’s skin was so hot that the cool wooden floor against her back came as a relief. The abstract painting above his head—bold variations of red colliding—was an apt depiction of her emotions, replicating the excitement unleashed within her.

The magnificence of his form pressed against her, and his touch, stirred up wanton and wild feelings. “I never dreamed it would be like this.”

“I did,” he said in a deep, husky tone.

She smiled. “You dreamed about me?”

“Yes, and I dreamed about doing this.” He started to pull down her thigh-high stockings then stopped.

“Is there a problem?”

“These weren’t part of my dream. I’ve never seen anything like these.” He slipped his hand underneath the stockings, the back of his hand brushing against the bare skin of her thighs. The metallic sparkling hose was Mary’s most sensuous pair. Edmund shook his head in wonder. “Of all the women I’ve—”

Mary smiled. “It’s okay. I know I’m not the first.”

He raised his gaze and captured hers, his voice full of feeling. “There are other firsts, Mary, and you’re definitely one of them.”

Mary didn’t remember Edmund’s removing her stockings or her panties, but she did remember his smooth entrance and the sensations that followed. Nothing was off-limits, and he seized the opportunity to take advantage of every part of her.

“Oh, Mary, Mary, Mary.”

Could he truly be calling her? She never thought her name could sound so sexy. That she could feel this good. This lucky. A flash of fear gripped her as she thought of her past unlucky relationships. She held onto him as though he would disappear in an instant, bringing him closer, and she tightened around him, eliciting a deep moan of pleasure.

“You feel so good.”

Mary pushed away her fears and let herself go. Her complete surrender drove him wild. Edmund felt intoxicated by the gift she gave to him, and a fierce possessiveness took hold of him. It was as if it was the first time for both of them. She was his woman now. When they finished, he collapsed on his back and stared up at the ceiling, his arm still holding her to him.

“I’m starving,” he grumbled.

Mary stopped smiling and jumped up. “Oh, no.” She gathered her clothes and quickly pulled them on.

Edmund watched her, worried. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to feed Cammie.”

“Bring her over. We can have dinner together.”

“You’re going to cook?”

“No, I’m going to dial the phone. What would you like?”

“Anything. I’ll be right back.” Mary dashed to her apartment. She began to take Cammie out of her cage, then thought better of it. Edmund might not like a lizard crawling all over his furniture. She grabbed Cammie’s food and her carrier, then left her apartment.

“What’s that?” Edmund asked when she returned.

“An iguana.” She set the cage down on his coffee table.

Edmund sat on the couch and stared at the carrier. “I thought Mary was supposed to have a little lamb.”

“Well, this Mary has a lizard. She makes a great pet and is clean. I let her roam all the time.”

“Okay, take her out then.”

“Really?” Mary said, lifting the top of the carrier. “I didn’t think you’d like it.”

“I’m curious. Does she like to be touched?”

“She loves it.” Mary took Cammie out of her carrier. Cammie crawled up the couch, then onto Edmund’s lap, up his arm and then rested on his shoulder. “Cammie, get down from there.”

“It’s okay.” He touched Cammie’s head. “I’ll pretend I’m a pirate.”

“Pirates have parrots on their shoulders, not lizards.”

“I’m a different kind of pirate.”

She rested her hands on her hips. “What kind of pirate are you?”

“A land pirate.”

“And what do you like to steal?”

He winked. “You’ll find out when you discover something missing.”

Whatever kind of pirate he claimed to be, Edmund was doing a very good imitation with his wicked eyes and enigmatic grin. She hardly knew this man, and she’d just slept with him and wanted to all over again.

The doorbell rang, the arrival of their dinner breaking the mood. The rest of the evening, they ate Taiwanese on the balcony. Mary had suggested the couch, but Edmund argued that he preferred to look at her, rather than the TV. She had no reply. So, among the lights from the stars and the city below, they ate and talked until the stream of cars became only a trickle. Around 1:00 a.m. Mary stifled a yawn.

“You can spend the night,” Edmund said when Mary announced that it was time for her to leave.

She placed Cammie in her cage. “I save sleepovers for the weekend.”

He stood behind her and placed a kiss on her neck. “I’m going to have to change that.”

“I’m open to persuasion—” she drew away when he wrapped an arm around her waist “—but not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have work tomorrow.”

“So do I. I’ll let you sleep.” He held up three fingers as though he were a Boy Scout saying a pledge. “I promise.”

She opened the door. “No.”

“Fine. I’ll walk you home.”

“I just live next door.”

“I want to make sure you get there safely.”

Mary only shook her head. They walked over to her apartment. Once inside, she turned to him. “Thanks.”

“I don’t get a good-night kiss?”

“No.”

He rested a hand on his chest as though he’d been wounded. “I think you just broke my heart.”

“Then I’ll heal it tomorrow.”

His face brightened and he drew her close, holding her tightly against him. “Why wait until tomorrow?”

She playfully pushed him away. “Goodbye, Edmund,” she said, then closed the door.

“Good night, Mary,” he said, his voice muffled. “Pleasant dreams.”

Mary slept well that night. Too well. She overslept. The next morning she grabbed her clothes and pulled on a tam before dashing off to work. But the day didn’t improve much from there. She couldn’t focus. Everything she looked at reminded her of the night before. The steam from the coffeepot reminded her of Edmund’s passion; the chocolate-covered donuts left over from a recent business meeting reminded her of the delectable taste of his skin; instead of a modern carving of ebony stone, she saw Edmund’s firm body, and…“Do you have the files completed yet?” Mary looked up, flustered. She had been totally unaware that James had been standing in front of her desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got an important phone call I had to take care of. I’ll get them to you right away.” Mary hurriedly found the items she had promised to deliver; when she was done it was already noon.

At lunch she was horrified to find that she’d put on two different shoes. She was returning to her desk when she saw Edmund down the hall outside James’s office. She froze. Why did he have to stop by her office
today?

He glanced at her before she had a chance to duck out of view. She smiled, but he showed no sign of recognizing her before turning back to James. She felt like crumbling to the floor. Perhaps he hadn’t seen her.
Oh, please let it be that. Don’t let him ignore me.
In high school and college, people would be nice to her in class but when they saw her on campus or in the hallway she didn’t exist. She sat down at her desk and got back to work. She wouldn’t make a big deal of it. She reapplied her makeup, then deliberately walked past them.

“Mary,” James said.

She turned and faced him.

Edmund handed her a file. “Gregory wanted me to give this to you.”