Midas Touch (7 page)

Margaret waited for Sandra to decide whether to allow Lona

to come up or not.

Sandra considered brushing Lona off, but if Lona said it was urgent, it probably was.

“Send her up,” she said, earning another glare of disapproval from Margaret.

“You should be in bed. Not having to listen to the likes of that bloody woman.”

“Margaret, I’ll be fine. Go on to bed and make sure you give Minnie my best tomorrow when you talk to her.”

Margaret was gearing up for a battle, but Sandra cut her off. “You let me know if she starts feeling worse,” Sandra said.

“I’ll stop by to see her on my way home tomorrow and take her some flowers to cheer her up.” The ploy stopped the softhearted Margaret cold, as Sandra knew it would.

“Ah, bless you. You’re so busy, but still take time to care for others. You’re too good for this old world,” Margaret said with a sniff. She dabbed her eyes as she made her way to her room.

Sandra shook her head and made a mental note to check on Minnie’s progress. The doorbell rang and she went to answer it.

“Sandra, darling. Are you all right?” Lona Cromwell floated through the doorway and pulled Sandra into a crushing embrace.

“I’m fine,” Sandra said, maneuvering herself away from Lona’s arms.

“I was so shocked when I heard the news.”

Sandra’s face burned. The news spread much more quickly than she anticipated. How? Considering Carol’s distaste for gossip, she doubted it came from her. That left Ingrid Bennington.

“You poor thing,” Lona cooed, and reached for her again.

Sandra avoided the hug by executing a quick turn toward the kitchen.

“I was about to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“No, dear. You know I detest coffee. Tell Margaret I’ll have tea.”

“Margaret’s already in bed, but I’ll fix you a cup.”

Lona shook her head and clamped onto Sandra’s arm. “You

need someone to take care of you. You’re entirely too lax on your household. You need to rule with a firm hand.”

“Lona, I’m perfectly capable of fixing myself a cup of coffee.”

“I wasn’t just referring to your household staff,” she replied, giving Sandra a knowing glance.

Clueless, Sandra stopped and stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re such an innocent.” Her hand pushed the hair back from Sandra’s face. You may be a financial genius, but you know nothing about what women want.”

Sandra felt her face turn scarlet.
Has Carol told the whole world
I’m lousy lover?

“Look at you,” Lona chuckled, increasing Sandra’s discomfort.

“I don’t have your experience, I’m sure,” Sandra snapped, yanking her arm away as she made her escape to the kitchen.

Lona Cromwell’s reputation spread much farther than Texas.

Long ago, Sandra stopped trying to keep up with all the rumors.

Lona followed her, seemingly unaffected by her remarks.

Sandra smiled when she found a sandwich sitting on the counter alongside a pot of coffee. Margaret had again gotten the last word.

“Did it ever occur to you, I move from woman to woman because I couldn’t have what I truly wanted?” Lona asked as she continued to approach Sandra.

“And what might that be?” Sandra asked. She tried to ignore Lona’s closeness as she searched the pantry for tea.

“You.” A hand trailed slowly down her back and Sandra shivered in spite of herself. She turned and backed up trying to get away, but Lona trapped her against the pantry “I’ve waited for you to notice me for so long, but you could never see beyond Carol.”

“Lona, stop it.” Sandra tried to move past her, but Lona held her space and continued.

“I knew you weren’t happy. I could see the sadness in your

eyes. And her screwing every woman who showed the slightest interest.”

Sandra flinched. There it was. Ingrid was not Carol’s first affair. She wanted to know who the other women were, but could not bring herself to ask. Lona was still talking.

“She never knew how to treat you, but I do.” Her hands were on Sandra’s waist. “I can make you feel like the powerful woman you are. I would do anything you told me. Anything.”

Where is this going?
Sandra wondered.

“Tell me what you want,” Lona whispered in a sultry voice.

Her lips brushed against Sandra’s eat “You deserve it. Whatever it might be. I’m yours for the taking.”

In spite of her revulsion, Sandra felt a part of herself responding. Her robe opened and Lona’s hands roamed over her bare skin. Lona’s lips inched down Sandra’s throat and trailed a burning line between her breasts before she stopped to whisper in Sandra’s ear. “Take control. Make me please you.”

Sandra felt a stab of excitement course through her.
Don’t do
this,
she warned herself as she grabbed Lona’s hands and tried to push her away. The last thing she needed now was to become involved with Lona Cromwell. Sandra wished her body was as reasonable as
her brain.

“Yes,” Lona moaned when Sandra’s grip tightened.

“Lona, stop it.” Sandra shook her. “I want you to go home.”

“No,” Lona cried, her face distorted in anguish. “I want you to control me. I need you. I’m bad. You need to punish me!”

Sandra watched mesmerized as Lona unzipped her jumper and slid it off her shoulders to reveal herself to Sandra. Each pierced nipple held a small gold ring connected by a thin golden chain.

“For you,” Lona cooed.

Sandra closed her eyes and tried to control the desire sweeping through her.
I’m doing this because of Carol,
she told herself.
She
made me feel powerless and I’m only reacting to Lona because I need the
control back in my life.

No matter how much she talked to herself, her desire for

Lona escalated. She shoved Lona away, ill and ashamed of the lust pounding her body. Lona slipped to the floor.

Sandra collapsed onto a stool and dropped her head to the cool wood of the counter. She had almost given in. Lona’s submission had excited her, but the sight of her pierced and chained body also shocked Sandra.

Lona groaned. For one heart-stopping second Sandra thought she might be physically hurt. She started to rise, but Lona stopped her with a smoldering glance.

“I knew you would respond,” Lona said hoarsely, and crawled to Sandra. Lona’s face held a look that both attracted and frightened Sandra.

“Let me thank you,” Lona begged.

Sandra sat transfixed as Lona crawled to her. In one swift move, Lona spread Sandra’s legs and buried her head between Sandra’s thighs. She wanted to protest, but Lona’s tongue was creating magic previously unknown to Sandra. She gave in to the hunger consuming her. Desperate for the release offered by Lona, Sandra wrapped her hands in Lona’s long black hair and pulled her tighter against her throbbing center. Lona moaned and moved as if possessed. Sandra slipped to the edge of the stool and rode Lona’s tongue until she dropped over the edge of sensation and swirled unimpeded through a warm void. She sat stunned with her hands wrapped in Lona’s hair, while Lona contentedly licked away Sandra’s juices.

Sandra was scared. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, she had lost control. She glanced down at the tangle of Lona’s hair between her legs. How would she ever be able to face this woman again?
We both wanted it,
she reminded herself.

Nevertheless, this was definitely not something she intended to continue. Lona’s busy tongue made it difficult for her to concentrate on anything.

Lona was the kind of woman who would be attracted to anything she saw as unattainable. With her goal achieved, perhaps she would lose interest. There was still the matter of getting her out of the house and quickly, Sandra thought.
Control. She wants

to be controlled.
Lona started to look up.

“Don’t look at me.” Sandra forced as much brusqueness into her voice as possible. Lona immediately dropped her head and lowered her body. Sandra gritted her teeth.
Be persuasive.
“I’m through with you,” Sandra snapped. “Go home and don’t bother me again.” She half expected Lona to rise and slap her; instead, Lona crawled out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, Sandra heard the front door open and close.

Sandra felt ill and ran down the hall to the bathroom. She had not eaten anything since breakfast and suffered a spasm of dry heaves. Having witnessed a side of herself she never knew existed scared her.

Sandra washed her face and rinsed her mouth. As she dried her face, she was shocked to find dark circles ringing her eyes.

The cut above her eye glowed red and angry-looking against her pale skin. She released a long sigh, admitting she felt as tired as she looked.

The tightness in her chest began again. She slowly made her way back to the guest room and lay on the bed with extra pillows piled behind her head to alleviate the pressure building in her chest.

She stared at the ceiling until the pressure subsided. The eastern sky grew light before she slipped into a restless sleep.

She slept less than an hour. Thoughts of Lona and Carol banged around inside her skull. It would be useless to try and go back to sleep. She took a hot shower and spent extra time on her makeup to hide the circles beneath her eyes.

She entered the kitchen to find Margaret in a tiff.
I didn’t
eat the sandwich,
she groaned with a mixture of guilt and shame at the reason she had forgotten it. She decided to bluff her way through. “Good morning,” she called in a voice much cheerier than she felt. “Margaret, you were absolutely right.”

Margaret eyed her suspiciously. When Sandra failed to elaborate, her curiosity got the best of her. “And how might that be, lass?”

“You said all I needed was a good night’s sleep. After Lona

left, I went to bed and slept like a baby.”

“Then you’ll be a wantin’ breakfast?” Once again, Margaret had out maneuvered her.

“That sounds good,” Sandra agreed, trying to ignore the queasy toss of her stomach.

Margaret placed toast and a bowl of fruit before her. Sandra pasted a look of contentment on her face and pretended to study the newspaper while she forced herself to eat.

She chewed several antacids on her way to work. The food sat heavily in her stomach. It was time to call Dr. Rayburn. The heartburn would not go away, and the pains in her chest were occurring more frequently.
I’ll call after this morning’s staff meeting,
she promised herself. Dr. Ida Rayburn would make time for her.

Sandra heard Betty’s excited voice seconds before her office door flew open. Carol stormed in with Lynda Hopkins, a divorce lawyer who specialized in palimony cases.

“I’m sorry,” Betty said. “I tried to stop them.”

Sandra waved her off. “It’s okay, Betty. Hold my calls.” Betty nodded and cast a suspicious glance at the two intruders.

“So this is where the great Sandra Tate holds court,” Carol said gazing around Sandra’s almost utilitarian office.

Sandra realized Carol had never before visited her office. She wondered how many of her employees even knew she lived with a woman.

“It’s even worse than I ever imagined, but I’m not surprised.”

Carol cut into her speculation. “People like you never have any taste.”

Sandra glanced around her office. One side was taken up with a large drafting table and work center. Her walnut desk with its brown tweed side chairs sat in front of a large window from which she could see downtown Dallas. The sofa, two armchairs, and a long coffee table that served as her informal conference area completed the furniture of the room. A wide array of artwork from generally unknown artists decorated the pale beige walls.

She shrugged off Carol’s remarks and offered them a chair.

Lynda seemed somewhat embarrassed. “I’m sorry to have to do this here,” she told Sandra. “I usually prefer to meet in my office, but Carol has hired me to represent her.”

“Let’s get on with this,” Carol hissed. She studied her nails to avoid eye contact with Sandra.

Lynda sat her briefcase on her lap and removed a sheaf of papers. “Sandra, we’ve drawn up a financial …”

“Let me save you some time,” Sandra interrupted. “She’s not getting anything more than she’s already received.”

“See? I told you,” Carol shouted triumphantly at Lynda, who seemed shocked by Sandra’s response.

“Nothing.” Sandra turned to Carol. The tightness in her chest increased. She forced herself to take deep breaths before she continued. “For eight long years, I listened to you accuse me of being unfaithful, when apparently you were judging me by your own actions. I tried to encourage you to find something you liked to do and if Monday was any example, you obviously did.

You chose Ingrid Bennington, so go live with her. I’m not giving you another penny.”

“Ms. Tate,” Lynda prompted, assuming her lawyer’s stance.

“My client will be forced to take you to court.”

Sandra sighed. She had known Lynda Hopkins for ten years, and now they were opposing each other because of Carol’s greed. There was no way to explain to Lynda that giving in to Carol would result in a lifelong commitment of conceding to her demands. It would not stop with the first settlement. Carol would never be satisfied. She would always want more.

“Lynda, she’s free to do as she wishes, but I won’t willingly give her anything.”

“Sandra.” Lynda dropped the facade. “Having your relationship made public would hurt both of you. Why not listen to our proposal? It’s simply a matter of a yearly income. Once you hear our offer, I think you will agree it’s fair. Don’t you think Carol deserves something for the eight years she stood by you?”

“Stood by me! You make her sound like some fifties house-wife.” She glared at Carol. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what