Body Chemistry Page 4

  Brenda’s gaze fell and heat stole into her cheeks as the memory of their lovemaking rushed back to her as though he’d stripped her bare. But she wouldn’t let him unnerve her. She boldly stared back. “I know, but we’re not going to do it here either.” Brenda quickly turned away and marched to the foyer. She swung open the closet door and frantically searched for her coat.

  She didn’t have much time to look before Dominic spun her around. His eyes, dark like midnight, pierced hers. “Brenda, we need to talk.”

  The scent of his cologne embraced her, the same cologne that used to cling to their sheets at night and his bath towel in the morning. His hands firmly held her shoulders, hands that used to hold her close when they danced and that caressed her body when they made love.

  A sense of the magnitude of her loss hit her as she thought about how Madeline used to visit them for dinner. Those had been fun and happy times. Now they were gone forever. Her eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t say anything,” she begged, anguish making her voice tremble. “My friend just died.”

  “I know.” He surprised her by pulling her into his arms. She didn’t mind. At that moment she wanted to be held. She wanted to be comforted. She wanted to know that she wasn’t alone. And she cried because she knew he was strong enough to take her tears. He didn’t say anything. There were no soothing words of comfort or reassurances, he was just there—a quiet, solid presence and that was all she needed.

  Finally the tears ebbed and she drew away. “Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  Brenda looked up and checked his shoulder. “Not too much water damage.” She stared down at his chest, unable to meet his gaze. She touched his tie. “Remember when Madeline and I used to compete to see who could buy you the ugliest tie for your birthday?”

  “Yes, she usually won.”

  “I know. I don’t know where she got them.”

  “Especially that one that moved side to side at the sound of music.”

  Brenda laughed. “Yes, I remember that one.”

  “I still have it.”

  She glanced up surprised.

  His voice deepened. “I have all of them.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but a voice cut her off.

  “Brenda, I’ve been looking for you,” Franklin said. “I wanted a chance to tell you how sad I am.”

  How sad he was as though the rest of them didn’t feel anything. Typical Franklin. “Thank you.”

  Franklin glanced at Dominic. “Hello, Ayers.”

  Dominic nodded. “Franklin.”

  Neither man liked the other. Brenda had told Dominic about Franklin, but she didn’t know why Franklin didn’t like him. He would have made a good ally.

  “I would have put her on my project if I’d known she was so desperate.”

  Brenda knew he was lying. Madeline did not hide the fact that she thought he was a leech. “She probably would have said no anyway,” she said.

  “Yes, some people have too much pride.”

  “Or taste,” Dominic said.

  Franklin narrowed his eyes, then left.

  Brenda turned and retrieved her coat.

  Dominic took it from her and held it out. “Promise me if you need anything you’ll call me.”

  She slipped into her coat. “Of course.”

  His hands fell to her shoulders, clamping down like manacles. “No, I want your promise.”

  “Dominic.”

  His fingers touched the soft hairs on her neck, his voice softened to a whisper. “Promise.”

  “I promise. If I need anything I will call you.”

  He released her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She opened the door.

  “By the way, find another vice.”

  Brenda turned and saw him holding up her package of cigarettes. She reached for them. “Give those back.”

  He shook his head and put them in his jacket pocket. “I won’t let you ruin an excellent record. That doesn’t sound like my Brenda.”

  “I’m not your Brenda. I thought you cared but you were just being sneaky and going through my handbag.”

  “I do care.” He grinned. “Drive safely.” He closed the door.

  Brenda stared at the door for a few seconds, reluctantly impressed with how he’d tricked her and then walked down the steps.

  Natalie Swanson darted out of view when Dominic turned away from the door. She didn’t want him to see her. She spoke to the man next to her. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” Thomas Yardwell said, entering something into his electronic organizer.

  Natalie sent him an annoyed glance taking in his hard jaw and long lashes. She only slept with him out of absolute boredom and knew that their relationship would soon end, but right now it suited them both. “Dr. Ayers and that woman.”

  That information caught his attention. “Dominic’s with a woman?”

  “Not now. She’s gone.” But in the two years she’d been working for Dr. Ayers she’d never seen him look at a woman like that, let alone given Natalie the “I’m okay” signal. Usually it was SOS and she would come to his rescue, efficiently whisking him away from the ongoing rush of unwanted female attention.

  “I’m sure it’s no big deal,” Thomas said.

  He was blind to anything but work and as Dominic’s right-hand man, he had plenty to do. He was responsible for Dominic’s busy schedule, which was constantly full. Dominic didn’t seem to mind, but Natalie worried about him. Not that anyone listened to her; she was just an assistant and a girlfriend. Thomas wasn’t interested in her opinions. He liked three things about her: her looks, her money and her father’s name.

  The Swanson name opened doors for him and Thomas treated her well because of it, as though she were an investment. She didn’t care, because she liked being treated well. Although she didn’t need the assistant job Thomas had gotten for her, she liked being useful and working for Dr. Ayers was never boring.

  For a while she thought Dominic wasn’t interested in women in that way. He flirted with them, but never went beyond that. Seeing him today erased that thought.

  When she saw him talking to that tall, intimidating figure, who she later discovered was Brenda Everton, she thought it was just business, but that assumption changed when she noticed the way Brenda looked at him. At first she guessed he might need rescuing until she saw how he looked back at Brenda and the look made Natalie’s eyes widen with shock. “I wonder if they’re still in love.”

  “Who?” Thomas asked, all interest gone.

  Natalie walked away. “Never mind.”

  Brenda woke up to the phone ringing. She glanced at the clock, but her eyes were swollen from crying and she could barely make out the time. She picked up her wrist watch and squinted. It was one o’ clock. From the sun peering through the blinds it was obviously one in the afternoon. The fact that she’d over-slept didn’t matter because she’d taken the day off. Madeline’s letter still lay on the ground where she’d left it last night. The phone continued to shrill. She grabbed it and grumbled, “Hello?”

  Her brother’s soothing voice came on the line. “It’s Clement. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay,” she said trying not to sound too surly. She knew he cared but she was sick of being asked the question. He lived alone in Portland, Oregon, but occasionally came to visit. He was one of the few brothers who bothered to find out how she was doing, the rest were too busy.

  “I’m really sorry about Dr. Cartwright. Her whole life was her career and when it didn’t work out she gave up.”

  “She was my idol.”

  “That’s what worries me.”

  Brenda sat up. “Why?”

  “You don’t think you’re similar?”

  Brenda rubbed her eyes. “I’m not going to kill myself if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Picked up any cigarettes?”

  This was why he was her favorite brother and why he also annoyed her.
“Do you have spies?”

  “I know you and I know how you used to deal with stress.”

  “I haven’t smoked yet, I just thought about it. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Brenda was in no mood to tell Clement about the money she needed for her project and that she was just as desperate as Madeline had been. It would only confirm his comparison of them.

  “It’s work-related, isn’t it?” he asked, sounding smug.

  “Actually it’s about the three men I’m currently dating. They’re all scheduled to come over today and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His tone made her defensive. “I like my job and I care about the people who work for me.”

  “Yes, but you’ve lived your life these past few years thinking of everyone but yourself. It’s not good for your health. When was the last time you were on a date or took a vacation?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Brenda, I think—”

  “I will go on a vacation soon.” She wanted to ask about his love life—she knew he didn’t have one—or his bully boss, so he would realize his life was as stagnant as hers, but she didn’t want to argue. “I’d better go, there’s someone at the door. Talk to you later.” Brenda hung up the phone. She contemplated going back to bed, but knew she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. She stood and grabbed her robe then lifted Madeline’s letter off the ground and reread it.

  Dear Brenda,

  Please don’t judge me too harshly. After I found out that I lost the funding I knew my life wouldn’t mean much anymore. My career was all that I had. I gave it everything and it swallowed my life. I had nothing left and nothing else to live for. It’s easier this way. I’ve let people down and disappointed them and I can’t face that. I will miss you. Take care.

  Your eternal friend,

  Madeline.

  Brenda carefully folded the note and put it in her pocket. She went into the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, then stepped out on her patio. She looked out at Lake Washington, which she could see from the back of her house, and watched several boats adrift in the distance. She saw a couple walking along the jogging path, their joy almost palpable.

  She thought of Sonya getting married and the joy of starting a new stage in her life. The thought made her feel old. How pathetic, she hadn’t completed her third decade yet, although that was close, and she already felt ancient. Work was her life. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken time out to sit and do nothing. She didn’t want to end up like Madeline or go back to smoking and being more manic than before.

  She needed to change. For a moment she thought about how nice it would be to have a man in her life again. Someone she could talk to, do things with and have incredible lovemaking. That would be nice. She missed it.

  But what could she do to change?

  Dumped? Bored? Then this is the club for you!

  The words popped into her mind. Where had she heard them before? Brenda searched her mind, then remembered. Oh yes, that invitation. She’d thrown it in the wastebasket. It expired in seven days. She counted off the days on her fingers. She had one day left. Her heart raced. Could she? Should she?

  Brenda dashed inside, went to her desk and checked the wastebasket—empty. Suddenly panic gripped her. Of course it was empty. Today was trash day.

  Chapter 4

  Brenda raced outside and heard the roaring engine of the garbage truck as it crawled its way up the street. She lifted the cover from the trash can and started sifting through its contents. She gingerly pushed aside some rotting food escaping a plastic bag and swatted away a couple of flies. She held her breath and continued searching for the small white garbage bag. The truck drew closer, grinding and shifting gears as it stopped and started again.

  At last she found the bag and yanked it out, just as the truck pulled up. The driver gave her a wink and a lascivious look, appreciating how her black robe hugged her figure and the vulnerability of her bare feet. She didn’t take time to notice.

  Back inside she opened the bag, glad that everything was still intact. When she finally found the crumpled invitation, she smoothed it out against her leg, then sat at her desk and grabbed a pen. She read the instructions again, then began to fill it out. Some of the questions would have made her pause before, but she didn’t have the time to think them over, and instead wrote down the first thing that came to her.

  Which do you prefer?

  Postcards or love notes? Postcards.

  Flowers or candy? Neither. I prefer something I need.

  What would your ideal man be like? Ideal man? Franklin had once been her ideal, but had been her first mistake. Clever, driven and handsome, but he had proven to be all wrong. Dominic had also been her ideal. Brilliant, funny, successful, but he had also turned out to be a mistake.

  She wasn’t sure she had an ideal anymore; unfortunately she had to write something. She didn’t want their complete opposites—a stupid, cruel man. Perhaps the third time would be the charm. Dominic had been a huge improvement over Franklin. Perhaps her new man would be an improvement over Dominic. She wrote: Intelligent. Then scratched it out and wrote Brilliant, attractive, successful, knows how to have fun, and a great lover. She bit her lip, then hastily scribbled down and loves me more than his career.

  Work had been Dominic’s mistress. She didn’t want another relationship like that.

  Brenda carefully read the “sworn oath” at the bottom of the page: As a member of The Black Stockings Society, I swear I will not reveal club secrets, I will accept nothing but the best and I will no longer settle for less.

  She checked over her answers, then drove to the post office and mailed it. The moment she released the envelope in the slot she began to doubt her decision. I’m crazy, she thought. I just signed up for a society I’ve never heard of. She had enclosed a check, although the amount was nominal, but she had no way to trace it. She shrugged. If she got no reply it would fit with the kind of luck she’d been having lately.

  “Sad business about Dr. Cartwright,” Chuck said when Brenda returned to work.

  “Yes,” Brenda said, walking to her desk.

  He wrung his hands and stared at her. Because he made no motion to leave her office Brenda guessed he had something else to say. “What is it, Chuck?”

  “I don’t want to bother you, especially after all you’ve been through.”

  “But…”

  “But I was wondering how your idea is coming. It’s not to put pressure on you—I’m just curious. Could I get a hint?”

  “No. I’ll tell you when everything is settled.” Brenda rested her paperwork on her desk and sat down.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wouldn’t mind—”

  A knock on the door cut him off.

  “Come in,” Brenda said, grateful for the interruption.

  Sonya bounced in. She handed something to Chuck. “There you go, Dr. Lawson.” Then she bounced over to Brenda’s desk and placed an envelope on it. “And that’s for you, Dr. Everton.”

  “A wedding invitation,” Chuck said reading his.

  “Yes. I know I’m supposed to mail them, but I thought this was better. And I get to save two stamps.”

  “Better yet, you could have saved the environment and just sent an e-card,” Chuck said.

  Sonya’s face fell.

  Brenda sent him a cutting glance and he went red. “But you can’t put an e-card in a scrapbook,” she said.

  Sonya’s smile returned.

  “Right,” Chuck grumbled.

  Sonya came around the desk and peered over Brenda’s arm. “Do you like it? I designed it myself.”

  Brenda edged her chair away. “It’s very nice.”

  Sonya returned to the other side of the desk. “I already have both of you down as definitely coming. This is just a formality. Please let me know by the dea
dline if you’re planning on bringing a date…” Her words died away as she looked at Brenda, as if the idea were absurd.

  “I’ll let you know,” Brenda said filling the awkward silence.

  “Thanks.” She bounced out.

  Brenda watched her go, reluctantly remembering Franklin’s snide remark about Sonya’s cheerleading past.

  “Can’t remember the last wedding I went to,” Chuck said.

  Brenda looked at the rainbow-colored invitation. “I have a feeling you’ll remember this one.”

  “Have you ordered the water heater?” Lincoln called out to Brenda as she checked her mail. “They’re having a sale at the hardware store.”

  “I’ll get to it.”

  “Better hurry, the sale ends soon.”

  “Thanks,” she said absently, her attention focused on a package left on her doorstep. It looked ordinary, but she knew it was not. She picked it up, anxious to see what was inside. She sat at the kitchen table and opened it. Inside were several items: four pairs of stockings, a membership card and strict instructions. She read the card: Brenda Katherine Everton, Member, The Black Stockings Society. It looked very impressive, helping to push aside some of her lingering doubt. Then she pulled out a pair of stockings and burst into laughter. She pulled out another pair and laughed even harder. She could hardly sit up straight when she saw the third pair.

  This had to be a practical joke. These couldn’t be for her. Didn’t they know who she was? She was certain she’d been very specific in her application. This was all wrong. She wiped away the tears that had been streaming down her face from laughter and read the letter inside:

  Welcome to The Black Stockings Society. Your first assignment is to take your membership card to Big and Beautiful.

  B and B? Brenda avoided shopping at that store. She hated any place set aside for women too wide or too tall for regular fashions. She always felt awkward because she didn’t know how to shop for clothes. Brenda paused, reconsidering her aversion to Big and Beautiful. Shopping there would be better than going to a regular clothing store. She remembered an incident when she was in her early twenties where a clerk nearly fainted when she’d asked for a pair of black fitted trousers. The woman had looked at her as though she were a giant. B and B may not be too bad after all.