Authors: Elizabeth Adler
“Hardly sexy lingerie,” she admitted, giving him that startling ear-to-ear grin, her eyes alight with amusement.
“I must have had it since I was seventeen, and I can’t bear to give it up.”
He shrugged, still naked, laughing at her. “Some kids have blankets, you have a robe. It takes all sorts.”
With the tip of one finger she pushed him back onto the bed. “Wait right there, Mr. Cassidy, famous owner of the burgeoning vineyard,” she said.
Dan lay back on the pillows, his arms behind his head, thinking about the many forms love could take. This one had crept up on him, ensnared him against all logic, almost against his will. Yet he couldn’t tell this woman he loved her. It was a dilemma he’d never expected to confront, and he wondered how in hell he was going to get around it.
Music swelled again from the wall speakers, soft, lyrical, Antonio Carlos Jobim and strings; then Ellie appeared in the doorway, clutching a bottle of Vin Santo, two small glasses and a box of almond biscotti.
She perched on the bed next to him. “It must be the homemaker in me,” she said, “or maybe the chef, but I feel compelled to feed my man.”
“I like it.” He sat up, took the bottle from her, opened it, poured the rich dessert wine. Raising his glass to her, he sipped. “It makes me feel wanted.”
Ellie’s heart felt featherweight in her chest, it was fairly singing with happiness. Her room, her whole house, felt different with Dan in it. His strong masculine presence chased the ghosts of the night away, and his sensual body gave her the gift of pleasure—and love. Though she didn’t want that, not yet.
Smiling, she said, “Open your mouth and close your eyes, and see what Ellie will send you.” He obeyed and she popped a small almond cookie between his lips. “Delicious,” he muttered. Their eyes linked again, remembering.
He watched her sip the sweet wine, and unable to resist, he leaned closer and ran the tip of his tongue across her lips, tasting her. She was too much, too tempting…. He caught the glass from her suddenly nerveless fingers, placed it on the night table, pressed her back against the pillows.
She lay, her slender arms over her head, her beautiful eyes soft with wanting, as slowly, he unfastened the belt holding the pink robe together. Then she was naked before him, and it was starting all over again.
Buck sat in the car, staring at the lamp-lit upstairs window. Tears streamed down his face. He didn’t know a heart could contain this much pain. He would have to kill Ellie, now. He started the car and drove like a madman, through the dense fog, back to Sunset and the apartment. Bolting the door, he hurled himself round the room, flailing his fists against the walls, howling his despair.
His upstairs neighbor, a young guy watching a loud music video, lowered the sound for a second, listening. He shrugged, wondering what channel the horror movie was on, then turned up the sound again.
T
HEY AWOKE SIMULTANEOUSLY TO THE UNDRUNK WINE
and the biscotti scattered across the floor. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow over their entwined bodies.
Still warm with the glow of their lovemaking, Ellie shifted her head to look at him. Her eyes met his and she smiled. “Morning, friend.”
Her lazy voice wrapped like spun sugar around Dan’s heart. “Morning, Chef.” He ran a finger tenderly across the curve of her cheek. “Tea or coffee, ma’am?”
“I’ll get it.” She swung away from him but he grabbed her, held her down against the pillows.
“Oh no, this time I play chef. Just tell me what you’d like for breakfast, ma’am. I’m a man who can find his way around any refrigerator.”
She giggled, struggling against him. “All you’ll find in mine is a couple of lemons and a bottle of champagne.”
“What, no muffins? No home-baked bread? No eggs or blueberry pancakes?”
His look of astonishment made her laugh. “I know,
you’re wondering what kind of chef I am,” she said. “The truth is I always grab a cup of coffee en route to the produce market.” She jerked bolt upright. “My God,” she added, pushing him away and leaping from the bed. “I’m supposed to be down there now, picking up the fruit and vegetables for tonight.”
Dan heaved a loud sigh as she dashed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It was back to business again, back to the cafe. Her life. Her world. “You mean you’re going to send me out coffeeless, into the cold, cold morning?” He leaned, naked, against the bathroom door.
“’Fraid so.” She peeked at him from the shower, admiring the view. “That’s life, Mr. Cassidy, as they say.”
For a second, he contemplated joining her in the shower, but she’d already switched moods and he could feel her mind was on the day in front of her. He threw her a towel as she stepped from the shower. Wrapping it around her, she scooted past him.
“It’s all yours,” she called, as though he were a college roommate sharing the only bath. But Dan saw the laughter lurking in her eyes. He caught her arm, pulled her back and kissed her firmly.
“What was that all about?” She was laughing as she stepped away from him. He thought it was worth anything, even being thrown out in the early morning without coffee, just to hear her laugh again.
Ten minutes later, they were both showered, dressed and out on the street. “Careful, the neighbors,” she warned, smiling, as his mouth covered hers again. “Talk to you later.”
Eyes narrowed, Dan watched her back the Cherokee out of the garage. He gritted his teeth as she swung quickly left, until it almost touched the Explorer.
She leaned from the window, laughing at him.
“Nerves of steel, Cassidy, that’s what you’ve got.” Then with a casual wave, she shot off like a rocket down the hill.
He was smiling as he drove along Main, looking for Starbucks. Hot coffee and a good woman were all a man needed, he decided. Or should it be the other way around? Either way, he was winning.
The dream had not gone away. It returned that night, when she was alone again, and the night after that, and the next. Somehow, she coped with it better, though. Now, when she woke, sweating and trembling, she imagined Dan was with her, felt his strong masculine presence in her room, in the darkness. She knew all she had to do was pick up the phone, but he’d called her every night since they’d made love, and she hated to wake him this late, with her fears.
Lack of sleep was taking its toll though, and she didn’t know what to do about it, except to keep plowing on. Work and more work was all that counted. And the fact that, soon, she would see Dan again.
T
HE CAFE WAS BUSY THAT EVENING, AND THAT SUITED
Ellie just fine. The more work she had to do, the less time she had to think, and maybe tonight she would finally sleep.
The doorbell announced new arrivals and she gathered up her menus and went to greet them. They were regulars and the routine was easy. She brought them red wine and a basket of her warm crusty bread, then suggested the night’s specials: crab spring rolls with ginger and fresh mango chutney, and rack of Sonoma lamb.
Watching her, Maya thought Ellie was doing okay, though she had the sense not to keep on asking. After aü, what else was Ellie going to reply except “Sure, I’m fine”?
She rubbed her aching jaw anxiously. Her wisdom tooth was acting up again, she was sure it was impacted, the pain was getting really bad.
“If you don’t want a face like a full moon, you’d better get yourself to the dentist tomorrow,” Ellie advised in passing.
“Dentists terrify me, all that whining machinery and needles, and the steel probe they tap on the crater in your molar, asking does that hurt? ‘
Oh no, Mr. Dentist, only when I scream.’
I admit I’m a coward,” she added, following Ellie into the kitchen.
“Okay, so be a coward and lose your looks.”
Maya knew she was right. “I’ll go tomorrow, first thing,” she agreed, finally.
“Take the day off, you’ll need it. Make that two days. I’ll get Jake to pinch hit for you. If you can still speak, call me afterward.”
“Sadist.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be round later, with chicken soup and champagne, though of course you’ll have to drink them both through a straw.”
Ellie glanced round her domain. The kitchen smelled great tonight. Chan was just removing a couple of racks of lamb from the oven, ready to be served with rosemary roast potatoes and tiny green lentils de Puy, cooked in the juices and stock. A couple of Ellie’s pear
tartes tatins
waited on the butcher’s rack, and Terry was stirring a pan of vanilla
crème anglaise.
Everything was under control and she breathed a pleased sigh of relief. With a full house, all she needed was trouble in the kitchen.
It was close to midnight when the last couple left and she finally latched the door and turned the sign to
Closed.
She looked at Maya, sprawled in a chair, holding her aching face in her hands. “Go home,” she said, “you look terrible.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that remark.” Maya looked sorry for herself. “But maybe I will go, if you think you can manage without me.”
Ellie handed her her jacket and purse. “You’re going
to be so happy to see that dentist tomorrow, you won’t believe it.”
The phone was ringing; and she pushed Maya out the door and picked it up. “Ellie’s Place.”
“I thought I’d give you a call, see if you were still slaving.”
Her heart lifted at the sound of Dan’s voice. “I’m still slaving. How about you?”
“I’m leaving for Napa tomorrow, early. Carlos and I are going to inspect a few vineyards, see what we can learn, maybe buy some rootstock for the north slopes. I’ll be back in a couple of days, though. I thought I’d come down and visit you?”
Ellie closed her eyes, imagining him in her little house, and how it would change the dark mood, the long, crawling sorrowful hours of the night, the gray timerous dawns, filled with guilt. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Are you going home now?”
“Soon.” She glanced at her watch. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
“I’ll call you from Napa.”
“Okay.”
“So, take care, Ellie …”
“You too, Dan.” She almost said
love you
as she rang off, but caught herself just in time.
Feeling better, she busied herself with the routine chores; putting the day’s receipts in the safe; whisking cloths off tables, tidying the counter and cleaning out the coffee machine. It was close to two o’clock and the fog was rolling in again when she finally left.
Only a single car drove past as Ellie sprinted down the misty street. The four-story parking lot was shadowy and
silent, and she found herself wishing nervously that she’d taken her car out earlier and put in on a meter near the cafe.
Her footsteps rang in the silence as she hurried into the elevator and pressed the button for three, staring down at the floor to avoid reading the graffiti. It jolted to a stop and she stepped forward, waiting for the doors to open. Nothing happened. She glanced at the indicator. It was stuck between two and three.
She jiggled the button, panicked at the idea of being stuck, alone, at night. The elevator still didn’t move. Frantic, she pressed every button, sighing with relief when it finally jolted slowly upward again. Only this time it went right past the third floor.
“Stupid thing,” she muttered anxiously. When it stopped at four, she shot out and ran to the heavy steel door leading to the stairs. She wasn’t going to take a chance on the elevator again, she would walk down one flight.
She heard a noise behind her. She hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. There it was again. Only now it sounded like footsteps. Fear rushed hotly up her spine and she turned and fled down the stairs. She emerged, breathless and panicked, on the third floor, frantically searching the bottom of her bag for her keys.
Where were they? Her car was all the way over on the other side. There wasn’t enough time to get there, find her key, start up the car and get out.
The elevator door was open, she jumped in and pressed the button for the ground floor.
She sagged with relief as it began to descend, her heart still pounding. She must get out of the car park, run the half block to Main, get help. She would be safe, out there …
It stopped again, on two.
“Oh God, oh God. This can’t be happening.” She
slammed her fist on the button again, but the elevator did not move.
Crouched against the scarred steel wall, all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. She tried to remember the lessons she’d taken on how to protect herself in a mugging. “Don’t panic,” she told herself, taking a deep breath, “it’s the worst thing you can do.”
The elevator began to descend again. Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, she took an eager step forward as the doors slid open.
He was waiting for her, masked, his arms outspread, holding back the doors. The knife in his hand glinted icily under the white fluorescent light.
For a breathless second, her eyes met his. Then she flung her purse at his feet. “Take it, please, just take it. I don’t know who you are, I won’t say anything. Just let me go.”
Her usually deep soft voice was shrill with fear, and Buck smiled. “It’s not your money I want, Ellie,” he whispered.
And then he grabbed her.
She could smell his sweat, feel his breath on her face, his powerful arms gripped her closer.
“Bastard.
” Adrenaline and anger suddenly gave her a crazy strength. Twisting round, she slammed her elbows into his chest. His grip loosened and she swung round again, kicking, aiming for the knees, the groin. He reached for her and she raked her nails over the face in the mask. She was strong with anger, spitting, scratching, biting.
Buck was sweating with the effort. Grabbing her ponytail, he yanked it back, hard. Ellie yelped as he dragged her to the floor.
He was kneeling over her, pinning her arms down. She stared up at him, frozen with terror, saw his bunched
fist coming at her, then a terrible pain. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she was unconscious.