Never Say Never (8 page)

I imagined what it would be like to sleep with Michelle, squirming just a little as I lay on the lounge chair. I rolled over and put my face in my hands.

I had no misconceptions about where this new relationship was going. I knew very well that it wasn’t about falling in love and living happily ever after. I was certain that Michelle wasn’t looking for that sort of thing. Just as I was equally certain that for me, it was more of a physical attraction than anything else. So far.

It felt good to be wanted. Pure and simple. Particularly by someone as young and attractive as Michelle. The question was, could I get sexually involved with her without getting too emotionally involved? After all, I would be returning to Boston in a couple of months. The last thing I wanted was to be pining away for someone.

The question rattled around in my mind for several minutes until I decided that my heart was probably pretty safe with this one. But I knew there was only one way to find out for sure.

I made a silent pledge to let go a little, to enjoy myself, and Michelle, as much as I could.

By four o’clock I’d had enough of the sun and headed back to my room. I started thinking about dinner, then thought perhaps I should spend some time writing letters that evening. I let myself into my room, the fragrance of freshly-cut flowers greeting me as I did. A huge bouquet of roses, carnations, and baby’s breath had been placed on the table. I smiled and approached them to lean down and inhale deeply. A small card was tucked into the arrangement, and I pulled it out and opened it up. It was simply signed
Michelle.
My smile grew. It was nice to know that she was thinking about me too.

I decided to call and thank her, hoping that I could catch her before she left for work. I was in luck.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you,” I said when she answered the phone.

“You’re welcome.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

“When do you have to go to work?”

“Actually, I’m on my way out now.”

“Oh. I’ll let you go. I just wanted to thank you.”

“Okay,” she hesitated. “Listen, if you’re not doing anything later, you can always come down to the club. It’s usually pretty quiet on Sundays, and you could keep me company.”

“I have to work tomorrow,” I told her.

“Ah well, can’t blame a gal for trying. Can I call you before Friday?”

“Of course.”

“Then I will. Talk to you soon.”

We said goodbye, and I hung up the phone, feeling a little depressed.
What did you expect? That she’d take the night off?

I took a shower and ordered room service. While I watched TV and wrote letters, the scent of the flowers occasionally wafted over me. By nine o’clock I’d had enough. I changed quickly and called a cab.

It was nearly ten o’clock when I reached the bar. Someone was shouting “Last call,” and I flew from room to room, not knowing where, or if, I’d find her.

I finally spotted her in the main room overlooking the dance floor. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw her, astonished again by her striking beauty. She was behind the bar, leaning against the counter and idly wiping the inside of a glass with a towel. The cuffs of her long-sleeve white shirt were rolled back to expose her forearms. A black bow tie hugged her neck, matching a short vest of the same color. She was lazily watching two couples on the dance floor moving to a slow love song.

I slipped along the side of the bar until I was beside her. She hadn’t noticed me, so I grinned and leaned over the counter as far as I could.

“Do I still have time to order a drink?” I asked.

Startled, she swung around. Her surprised smile was all I needed to see. Any second thoughts I might have had vanished instantly.

“I can’t believe it.” She reached out to grab my hands in hers. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too.”

She filled a wine glass and slid it across the counter to me.

Then she pouted a little as I took a sip. “It’s late. The place is nearly empty, so we’re closing in ten minutes.” I nodded. “I know.”

“Maybe we could go for coffee?” she asked. “I know you have to work tomorrow. I wouldn’t keep you out long.” Her eyebrows were raised with hope.

My eyes traveled over the dark skin of her face. Her hair was tousled again, and her eyes were bright. Her mouth was  calling me.

“Coffee would be nice,” I told her.

“Good.” She grabbed a towel and brushed it over the countertop, then ducked beneath the counter to step out and stand beside me.

“You know,” she whispered in my ear as her arms slipped around my waist, “I hear the coffee at your hotel is absolutely  fabulous.”

I laughed softly and lifted my arms until they circled her waist.

I buried my face in her hair and inhaled deeply.

“You’re absolutely right. It is.” I leaned back to see her eyes as they looked into mine. “But actually,” I began, swallowing my nervousness, “the coffee that they serve in the dining area isn’t nearly so good as the coffee served in the rooms.” Her eyes grew wide with surprise. Her smile couldn’t have been any bigger than my own.

“Room service? Hmm. Is the coffee just as good in the morning?”

“Even better,” I promised.

“I can’t wait.” With a grin, she tossed the towel back on the counter, grabbed my hand, and led the way through the crowd and out to the parking lot.

Michelle was an incredible lover. Ardent and insatiable one minute, laughing and playful the next. We barely slept and I was exhausted before I even got to work the next morning. I hadn’t even sat down in my chair before Billy popped his head around the corner and wished me a loud and singsongy good morning.

“Good morning to you,” I replied, sheepishly recalling the last time I had seen him.

“I’d be willing to bet that one of us had a very pleasant weekend.” He grinned suggestively as he stepped into the office and settled into a chair. My face flushed as I stumbled for a reply.

“I really am sorry about the other night,” Billy continued. “I hope I didn’t spoil anything for the two of you.” I finally found my voice. “We somehow managed to salvage the weekend,” I assured him, keeping my voice low but playful.

“Ooh, I’d love to hear all about it. But I’m afraid I’ve got bad news. The programmers ran into some problems over the weekend. Grandfather got wind of it and is on his way to see you.”

“Oh, great.” I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed.

“Sorry.” He lifted an armful of computer printouts and stacked them neatly on my desk. “Thought you might want to have a look at these before he gets here.”

“Thanks.” I flipped through them briefly. “From yesterday?” I asked.

“Yep. Once you’ve had a chance to get a handle on things, give me a call. We can go over everything then.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

“No problem.” He stood up to leave and was almost out of the room before I called out, waving him back in.

“Have you heard from Sara?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Didn’t she come back last night?”
Last night? Oh my God! Could Sara have actually been next door
last night? And this morning?
“I hope not,” I muttered aloud.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh,” I waved him off. “I don’t think so. At least I didn’t hear her.”

“Are you worried about her or something?”

“Kind of. Yeah.” I looked at him hard. “Sara didn’t take it well when I came out to her. I’m worried that she might have flipped out when we took her to the bar last Thursday.”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry. She’ll be fine.” He checked his watch. “She’ll probably be here any minute.” He hesitated, then headed back to the door. “Gotta go, doll. Good luck with John.”

Reluctantly, I watched him go before turning back to the stacks of paper before me. The next hour was spent assuring John Austin that everything was fine. Bumps were expected during a conversion, everything was on schedule, not to worry, and so forth. He wouldn’t leave my office until I pointed out that the problem wouldn’t get solved if I spent the day talking to him instead of getting to work.

Once he left, I checked my watch. Ten-thirty. Where was Sara? I had a gnawing fear that she had resigned from the project.

My anxiety bubbled as I grew more and more certain that she wouldn’t return from Boston.

I scooted my chair across the floor and gazed out the window at the parking lot. It was a beautiful day. Gorgeous. A perfect day to play hooky. Michelle’s laughter came to mind. So sweet. I had enjoyed her this weekend. Thoroughly. The thought crossed my mind again that Sara might have been in her room last night.

I thought hard, trying to remember if I’d heard anything.
Not
that you would have noticed.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked, trying to clear the cobwebs. No, the silence from the other side of the adjoining door was deafening over the weekend. I was almost certain that she hadn’t been there.

“You sure look awfully tired.” Poof. Sara was there beside me, leaning her hands on the windowsill and looking down at me. All smiles. “Rough weekend?” She raised a brow and sat in a facing chair, crossing long legs at the knee and tugging at the hem of the skirt that just barely covered her thighs. There was no mistaking the innuendo in her voice.
Uh-oh. Maybe she had been
there after all.
My nervousness quickly changed, replaced with an odd mixture of anger, relief, and frustration. I wasn’t in the mood for her repartee. I didn’t reply immediately, but held back to check my anger, boldly eyeing her from her legs back up to her face.

“No.” I knew my voice had an edge. My eyes bored into hers.

“Actually, there was nothing rough about it.” I scored a hit. Her eyes flickered briefly.

“You didn’t go home,” she stated.

“No.” I knew what she was thinking, what she was hinting at. But I wasn’t about to let her know. “Why would I want to go home when I can have so much fun here?” I laughed and picked up a computer printout, flipped through it, and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

She actually looked relieved.

“We’ve got a little disaster this morning, and John Austin just spent the last hour down here quizzing me on deadlines.”

“Ouch. No wonder you’re a little grouchy this morning.”

“Who’s grouchy?” I squinted my eyes and growled. “Okay, out you go. That’s all the abuse I can take this early on a Monday morning.” I stood up and shooed her toward the door. “Why don’t you round up Billy and his people and plan on meeting back here at eleven for a briefing, okay?”

“Aye, aye.” She saluted me and was nearly out the door before turning back.

“I . . I’m sorry I took off last week without telling you. I should have let you know that I was leaving.”

I nodded and shrugged casually. “It’s not like I worried or anything. Or missed you.”

“Not even a little?” she teased.

“Well,” I conceded, “maybe just a bit.”

She seemed satisfied and laughed. “How about dinner tonight? Do you have plans?”

“No plans. Dinner would be nice.” She nodded and smiled and started to leave the room. “Oh, Sara,” I called her back in.

“Yeah?”

“Did you, uh, just get in? From Boston, I mean.” She nodded.

“I came straight from the airport. Why?”

Relief washed over me. “Oh, nothing. I just wondered.” The look on her face said she knew there was more to it than that. “Sure. See you later.” She shook her head and stepped from the room.

My heart felt suddenly lighter. Sara certainly had a way of adding a kind of roller-coaster element to my life. But I had to admit I was glad she was back.

The day was a long one. We huddled for hours, tediously going over line after line of code until at list the problem was identified, the resolution agreed upon. It was a weary but satisfied group that left the office just after nine o’clock that evening. I hadn’t seen Sara for several hours. She had poked her head into my office just after six o’clock to say she was headed back to the hotel and to wish us luck. As I trudged my way through the hotel lobby to the bank of elevators, I knew the last thing I wanted to do was go out to dinner. A nice warm shower and a soft bed was all I could think of.

As I fumbled to unlock my door, Sara came around the corner at the far end of the hall, dressed casually in T-shirt and shorts, and carrying a bucket of ice under one arm.

“Hey, you survived!” she called, eyes wide as she smiled.

“Barely,” I mumbled, trying to manage a smile as she drew closer.

Her brows drew together in a frown as she reached me. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” I admitted. “But I think we found all the bugs. We’ll know in the morning.”

“Good,” she nodded. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“No, but I think I have to take a rain check on dinner. I’m pooped.”

“But you must be starved. Why don’t we just order up? You go change and I’ll order room service and join you, okay?”

“Sure.” How could I say no?

I let myself into my room, unlocked my side of the adjoining door, and called the front desk for messages. Michelle had called.

The home office had called. The home office could wait. I rang Michelle and was disappointed to get her answering machine. I left a brief message, thanking her again for a wonderful weekend.

Next, I rummaged around until I found some comfortable sweatpants and T-shirt, then laid on the bed and closed my eyes.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew there was a knock on the door followed by a booming voice calling out, “Room service!” Sara bounded from one of the chairs near the table and intercepted the waiter before I could even sit up. I shook my head to get my bearings, wondering how long she had been sitting there. She ushered the young man in and stood to one side as he laid out two place settings. He fussed around until she signed the check and slipped some singles into his hand.

“I’m sorry. I must have dozed off,” I mumbled once we were alone.

“I didn’t mind. I’m sorry you’re so tired.” She waved me over to join her at the table. “I ordered soup and sandwiches. Hope that’s okay.”

I nodded, still fuzzy, and joined her.

We ate in relative silence. It was quiet, companionable. I realized with a mental shrug that this was perhaps the first time we had been alone that I didn’t feel the usual tingling anxiety.