Losing Control (3 page)

“Can’t you stay for a second or two?
I’d like to take a good look at you.”

“What?”

“I mean I’ve been wondering what you
looked like, close up. I’ve seen you up there on the patio a few times before,
when Connie was alive. You got my curiosity going.”

“Well, I’m nothing much to see; just
an ordinary woman.”

“Oh, I’ll have to disagree with you.
I don’t think you’re ordinary at all.”

Fawn lowered her gaze, thinking how
idiotic it was for her to be embarrassed in the presence of a boy her own age.
That’s all he was, really, though his appearance denied it. He looked far older
than twenty two.

“You don’t know me.”

“Yet,” he added, smiling.

Fawn laughed nervously. “I’d better
be going. It was nice to meet you.”

“But … we didn’t even introduce
ourselves.” He held out a muscular, suntanned hand. “I’m Taury Trahern.
Short for Taurus.
My mother is a real astrology freak.”

Fawn took his hand; the tightening
inside her increased. She slipped her hand away.

“I’m Fawn
Hamilton
.”

“That’s right. I remember Connie
telling me your name once. It’s a pretty name, about as unusual as mine.”

“Yes, I had a devil of a time in
school with it. Kids can be so mean.”

“True. But where I went to school my
name was average. Celebrity kids get stuck with the worst names. It’s no wonder
they grow up damaged. Of course, they all gave me the nickname ‘Candyman’
because my family runs the Trahern Candy Company.”

“Candyman?
That could be cute, or scary.
Remember the horror movies?”

“Sure. I’ve seen just about every
horror flick out there. I got to say I prefer the old ones, like
The
Haunting
, where they let your imagination scare you. The unknown is more
frightening than anything the make-up guys and special effects teams can whip
up.”

“I feel the same way. My favorite old
horror film is
The Spiral Staircase
. Connie had one of her first
walk-ons in that picture. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“No, but I’d like to see it. Maybe
next time it’s on, you could invite me up for a viewing?”

Fawn ventured a full look at his
face. His eyes were scanning her figure as he spoke. She felt really
uncomfortable, began to back towards the door.

“Maybe.
Well, Good Night.”

He followed her out onto the screen
porch, held the outer door for her.

“Would you like me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl,
you know.”

“Yeah, just the right size.”

She was glad the porch was dark. His
warm breath had brushed her cheek, causing her own breath to run short. It
seemed insane to her that he was having such a strong effect on her emotions.
She’d been near attractive guys before; Richard had lots of handsome though
rather slimy friends. None of them had brought forth any kind of arousal in
her. And there were the usual pool sweepers and pizza delivery pretty boys. Not
once had she been anything but professional with them.

But this one was different. Even
before she’d seen his face he was driving her to wild fantasies like she’d
never dared have in the past. And now that she had gotten so close, looked into
those eyes, felt his touch, and his warm, sweet breath she was desperately
hungry for him. It mortified her to the point that she rushed from the beach
house yard towards the pathway without getting her bearings. Her flip flop slid
off her foot, twisting her ankle; she tumbled to the ground.

“Whoa!” he said. “What’s the hurry?
Are you okay?”

Fawn gathered her dignity and drew up
on her feet.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Her ankle was
smarting, but she refused to let him see her pain. “Good Night.”

“Good Night.”

She retrieved her shoe and hurried up
the path without looking back.

Once on her patio she slumped down on
a chaise lounge and began to rub her swelling ankle.

“Great!” she thought.
“Just what I need!”

She entered the house, headed
straight for the bathroom. Her panties had felt strangely damp while at the
beach house. She pulled them down, expecting an early period, but they were wet
from her being aroused, soaked through in fact. Fawn’s chin dropped. She looked
into the mirror at her windblown hair, flushed cheeks and tired eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked herself.

The next morning her ankle seemed
fine, if a tad bit sore. She thanked her lucky stars and set out to have a busy
day of cleaning and jewelry designing. First, though, she grabbed a tub of
strawberry yogurt from the fridge and ate it slowly as she always did, savoring
the cool, tart pleasure of it. Garbo and Harlow were out on the side porch,
curled up and napping on a white-painted iron daybed that Connie had kept out
there just for Fawn. It was a perfect place to sleep on warm summer nights,
with the sea singing her a soothing lullaby and the breeze calming her fears.

Across the very private side yard
stood a tiny guest house; it was only a square stone box divided up into a
small living area with a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a bath, with its own
little porch offering glorious sea views. Fawn had awakened with the guest
house in her mind, and decided it would make a much better craft studio. It had
sat empty for years; didn’t even have any furniture, which gave her a great excuse
to peruse all the local flea markets and shops.

Her financial situation was pretty
well fixed. The sale of the mansion netted a good sum which was to be split
down the middle between her and Richard. The divorce laws in
California
were fairly straightforward, at
least as she understood them. Stephanie had advised her to hold off on taking
possession of the bungalow until the divorce was final, so Richard would have
no claim on it. She did, though she didn’t think he’d ever try for it. He hated
that house, didn’t much like Connie – probably because she saw through his
guise, and never let him treat Fawn badly when they were there together.

Her cell beeped; she flipped it open.

“Fawn, it’s me,” her mom said. “Are
you settled in?”

“Yeah.
I was going to call you last night,
but it was late. How are you today?”

“I’m all right. The panic attacks
haven’t happened as often since I started following the suggestions in the book
you gave me. Thanks for finding it.”

“You’re welcome. You know, I spent
most of last night looking over Connie’s photo albums. I’m sure she would have
liked for you to have some of them…”

“If she had, she would’ve left them
to me. I don’t want them, anyway. The past isn’t something I care to revisit at
this stage of my life.”

“I guess I understand. I believe I’m
beginning to understand a lot more about you, and Connie.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, just that I realize she wasn’t
the perfect mom. I mean, no one can be, really. But it seems to me she loved
Beau too much, and he loved her with equal passion, so maybe there wasn’t much
room left for you.”

“Why are you dredging all this up
now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s being in
this house again. And looking at the photos, and seeing how truly unhappy you
were. And, too, this divorce has me analyzing my own life, and how I came to be
the person I was with Richard.”

“I always said he wouldn’t have
looked elsewhere if you had given him what he needed.”

“I tried. But I guess it wasn’t in
the stars for me to have a baby.”

“You could have hired a surrogate. He
was all for that.”

“Well, I wasn’t. I had to draw the
line somewhere, Mom.”

“If you want a man’s love, you can’t
be drawing lines. It’s all, or nothing.”

“Like you and Dad? It’s all for him,
and nothing for you. Don’t you realize that yet?”

“I didn’t call to be insulted,
Fawn
. I’m hanging up.”

“No, wait, Mom.
I’m sorry. I do wish you’d see the
way things are, though. It isn’t too late to get out from under his tyranny and
enjoy the rest of your life.”

“I see no reason to leave your
father. My marriage is solid.”

“Well, if you believe that then I
guess there is no hope. I am sorry I upset you. Maybe I’m thinking too much.”

“You always do. And you can’t
possibly understand my life or your father’s love. You had it all with Richard,
and you let him slip away. Don’t start trying to unravel my life to justify
ruining your own. Goodbye.”

She hung up. Fawn bit her lip, trying
to stop the flow of tears but she failed. A knock set her shaking. She peered
round the kitchen doorway; saw a tall shadow at the French doors on the patio.

She dried her tears quickly, tossed
the yogurt cup into a recycling bin under the sink and strained to see what she
looked like in a beaded glass cabinet door. The sun streaming through the
windows was not kind, revealing the dark circles she’d developed after a rough
night. Sleep had eluded her until nearly dawn, and even then it had been
troubled, laced with anxiety and fear.

“If only I had some make-up,” she
pouted, remembering that she hadn’t bought any in at least two years. A trip to
the drugstore in the shopping mall across the highway was definitely on her to
do list.

The knocking came again, a shade
louder. She reluctantly went to the French doors, realized it was Taury Trahern
standing there.

“Oh my God!” she thought as she saw
him in full daylight, dressed only in faded jeans and a pair of tennis shoes.
He smiled at her and waved his hand. Her breath caught for a second; she patted
her chest, thinking to restore it. Then she swallowed hard, and opened the
doors.

“Hi, I hope it isn’t too early. I was
worried about your ankle; seemed to me like you twisted it last night.”

“Hello. Yeah, I did, a little, but
it’s
fine this morning.”

“That’s great.”

There was a moment of awkward
silence. He glanced around at the house.

“Well, as long as I’m here, maybe you
could show me your cottage? I’ve been wondering what it looked like on the
inside.”

“Connie never asked you up here?”

“She did, but my mom was one of those
mothers who thought her kids were a nuisance to everybody but her. She never
let me accept the invitation.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But I do have a lot
of plans today.
Maybe some other time?”

“Sure. I’ll make you a deal though,
you show me your house, and I’ll show you mine. Okay?”

She smiled at him. “Okay!”

He nodded then took off down the
pathway, his blond hair bouncing in the breeze. She stared after him until he
made the beach and disappeared into his house.

FOUR

Fawn began her chores, but her mind
wasn’t on them. It kept racing back to Taury Trahern. He was so friendly; it
made her feel like he was really interested in her as a woman. But she knew
what she looked like.
And how beautiful he was.
He was
probably one of those guys who felt they needed to be sweet to every female,
out of some sense of duty. Yeah, that was it, and nothing more. It wasn’t his
fault that she broke out in a fevered sweat at the mere sight of him – that was
her love-starved body overreacting. She didn’t want to seem stuck up or mean,
but for her own sanity she felt she had to avoid him.

Days passed fairly quickly. She
cleaned up the bungalow, finished designing all the custom jewelry that was
pre-ordered, and painted a few pieces of dark furniture white to brighten them
up.

Every so often she’d glance down at
the beach house; sometimes she would see Taury performing Tai Chi or swimming
in his pool. Other times he’d be carrying dry wall panels or paint cans into
the house. She wondered if he was doing the renovating all on his own.

One afternoon she fell asleep on the
porch daybed, woke up abruptly from a seriously stimulating wet dream – about
Taury, of course - only to realize he was knocking on her French doors. She
could hear him calling, and cowardly stayed where she was, hoping he’d go away.
But her car was there, and he could see it so he didn’t stop. He came around
the side of the bungalow, found her on the porch.