Rebound (18 page)

For a moment there
was only silence. Kevin wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking. She was
pretty sure he wasn’t even breathing. He took a breath closer to a
gasp and said, “I’ve missed you too, Suze.” He seemed on the verge
of saying something else, but instead let out a near inaudible
groan. He told the taxi driver the address Susan had already given
him, then turned back to Susan. “We’ve got reservations for Min’s
in ten minutes.”

Min’s was
Susan’s favorite fancy restaurant. One could order anything from
escargot to rack of lamb, fresh seafood that was as exotic as it
was delicious, and every conceivable kind of steak. Not to mention
Susan’s favorite dish: consolazione, which was Italian for
comfort
. Angel hair pasta tossed with a marinara so
rich it made all other pasta sauces taste like tomato juice, topped
off with primavera vegetables, grilled chicken that had been
marinated in butter and chardonnay, and then covered with
mozzarella and baked to a perfect, melted gold.

They also had the
best bread in Chicago.

And Kevin remembered
her talking about it...

Suddenly the fire
that broiled her flesh start licking inside her, making her quiver
as she melted against his shoulder. She was going to give Kevin the
greatest night of his life. A man who remembered things like
that…that was a man worth giving the most lavish of gifts to. And
she couldn’t stop thinking how much she wanted to give him herself
as a gift.

But just for tonight!
Just one last time, that’s all she’d need...just once more in his
arms, to get over him...to have him naked against her, to have him
hard inside her...

To get over
him...

Just thinking
those thoughts made her breath come hard and her heart thump in her
chest. But every time she thought,
to get over him
, her heart skipped a beat.

She was overly
excited. What she needed was a drink, a good meal, and to talk with
him like they used to. That, or a cold shower. Or Kevin in a nice
long, hot shower with her...

Susan sighed. Not a
tired sigh. Not a sigh of contentment. No, the sigh that escaped
her lips was feral and lascivious, and downright obscene.

Kevin chuckled.

She straightened, not
liking the way he’d laughed at her. She pulled herself from Kevin’s
shoulder and settled back into her own rather spacious side of the
cab--okay, she scooted over maybe a half an inch, but she wasn’t
sitting in his lap.

A thought
sparked in her mind, something that had been nagging at her since
the moment she’d laid eyes on him earlier that day, and it was that
something that brought her out of her little erotic reverie. “Why
the hell
are
you working for Francesca
Costa?”

Kevin got this
uncomfortable look on his face, the kind he used to get when his
mother visited in college and asked if he’d meet any nice young
ladies. That alone made Susan’s mind kick into hyper-drive. What
the hell was he doing with her?

He was about to say
something, but Susan cut him off, purging the rampant thoughts that
had burst like fireworks in her mind. “And why the hell didn’t you
tell me you were coming to town…or have you been in town? And why
haven’t you called me? And why…” There were just too many things
she wanted answers to. But one bloomed bright and hot in her mind.
“And why the hell are you trying to poach my opera house from
me?”

Susan had expected
him to throw up his arms and surrender. She expected him to tell
her there was nothing happening between him and Cougar Costa. And
she certainly expected him to tell her he’d back out of the running
for the opera house. But he didn’t do any of that.

What he did do was
laugh at her, which infuriated her to no end. But he did have these
sexy little crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, and that was
playing havoc with her concentration.

“First off,” he said
once he’d stopped laughing, “the opera house job is up for bid.
It’s not anyone’s opera house yet, so don’t even try staking some
sort of claim.” His gaze bore deep into hers, capturing her very
soul for an instant in its heated embrace. “And as for me working
for Francesca Costa…that’s none of your business.”

Susan gasped,
opening her mouth to yell at him. None of her business. How could
him sleeping with that woman not be her business? Another thought
sparked to life in her mind, this time like a giant, fiery
disco-ball
. I’m not
going to seduce him for just a night. I’m going to steal him back
from that lecherous, Gucci wearing alley cat.
Susan smiled coolly as she settled back into the
seat of the taxi cab.
You’re mine, buddy. Just you wait, you won’t know what hit
you.

In no time they were
at Min’s, and Kevin helped her out of the taxi. She liked the feel
of his warm, strong hand in hers. Yet he had taken that hand back
far too quickly. She wanted to hold onto that hand at least for
another couple of hours. But he did take her arm--a rather gallant,
gentlemanly thing to do. Yet Susan didn’t want him to be a
gentleman. She wanted him to be a beast. The insatiable beast she’d
known on the island, the beast with hot hands and hunger in his
eyes.

What she got was her
chair pulled out for her, and he sat on the other side of the
table. She had thought he would move his place setting closer to
her, on her side of the now seemingly enormous table at which
they’d been seated. He’d always moved his place setting to be
nearer to her, even before Cancun. Why wasn’t he doing it now?

He smiled at her, but
it was the tensest smile she’d ever seen. He picked up his menu and
nervously started flipping through it. “What’s good here?”

“Everything.” Susan
just stared at him, trying to get a read on him. “I’m partial to
Warm Comfort.”

Kevin’s eyes went
from reading the menu to bulging out at Susan.

“It’s a pasta dish on
the menu. It’s in Italian.”

“Oh,” Kevin said, his
face turning a lovely shade of pink as he brought his attention
back to the menu, nervously tapping his fingers against the leather
binder.

Susan couldn’t hold
herself back another moment, she had to get him in the mood, had to
let him know what she really wanted. Not food, but him!

She slipped her shoe
off and started to snake it under the table in his direction. It
seemed to be an awful long distance; she thought for a moment that
her leg would not be long enough, but then she felt the loose
fabric of his slacks.

“Susan…”

When Susan looked up
into Kevin’s eyes they were so serious she felt her heart stop, and
her foot snuck back over to her own side of the table and back into
her shoe.

They sat there for an
odd, silent beat, and Kevin said, “I’m glad we can be just friends
again.”

Friends? Just
friends again? Sure, right after this one last time
...

“I mean, I was so
afraid we’d be all different. And I want what we had back.”

Sure, she’d missed
that too. But just consider the pros of having one more night to
say goodbye...for closure on that part--that wild, crazy, hot,
wonderful part.

“Because I’ve moved
on.”

Say
what?

“So you don’t have to
worry about me. No more walking on eggshells around me, wondering
if I’m still carrying some kind of torch for you. Not anymore. I’m
over it.”

Susan had a hard time
making out what Kevin was saying for a moment, as if he was either
speaking in a foreign language or her hearing was abruptly failing
her. What Susan made out sounded to her like “I’ve moved on. I’m
over you.”

It stung. No, it more
than stung, it hurt. Those words stuck in her gut like a knife.
Somewhere inside she was sure vital parts of her were cracking,
shattering into sharp, brittle bits.

He’s
over me
.

Susan’s mouth was so
dry she couldn’t form even the smallest of words, and her throat
was so tight that she was sure she’d lost her voice. As she reached
for her water glass, she silently prayed that the waiter was
secretly a homicidal lunatic and had laced her water with fast
acting poison.

Let
it be swift
.
She brought the water
to her lips, chugged the entire glass straight down and sat there,
staring at the emptiness that was left, waiting for the effects of
the poison to take hold.

Nothing happened.

Kevin was silent on
the other side of the table, and Susan could tell he was staring at
her, waiting, probably, for her to say something. Had he still been
talking about the wonders of friendship? Or had he moved on to
other, more jovial subjects, like where she wanted to be buried?
Whether she’d like to be cremated? What kind of stinking flowers
would she prefer to have at her freaking wake?

She swallowed hard
and slowly tore her gaze from her empty glass to look at Kevin.

His expression was
one of concern. Worried, that was the word for it. He’d discerned
Susan’s looming psychotic break and was now pondering if he should
take her to the psych ward himself, or call for the goons in the
white jackets.

The goons would
have heavy, maybe even lethally strong drugs with them.
Call the goons.
She was going to need the heavy
drugs.

Kevin reached across
the table and patted Susan’s hand. “So we’re good?” he said,
looking deeply into her eyes.

Still no words could
find their way into Susan’s mouth. All she could manage was a crisp
nod of her head and the stiffest smile she’d ever faked.

He squeezed her hand,
his warm flesh on hers, and smiled brilliantly as he took his hand
away and leaned back in his chair. “Thank God. That’s a weight
off.” He looked so relieved.

How could he look so
relieved? How could not being with her make him so...happy? Susan
had the urge to kick him, hard, in the balls. How happy would he
look after she did that?

Just then the waiter
sauntered up to the table and started expounding on the intricate
delicacies of that night’s specials. His whole spiel sounded like
utter gibberish to Susan.

“Cosmo,” she
interrupted the waiter. “Straight up. And keep them coming.”

Chapter 13

Later, Susan couldn’t
recall one word Kevin had said, except, “I’m over you...I’ve moved
on.” She couldn’t remember what she’d said. All she could remember
was sitting there thinking, over and over again, that this wasn’t
happening.

He wanted her, he’d
always wanted her. How could he just decide he didn’t want her
anymore? And that whole “still friends” thing, what was up with
that? Was he trying to pretend nothing had ever happened?

That was
supposed to be
her
line! Susan was
supposed to be the one to get over Kevin. She was supposed to sleep
with him one last time and magically get over him. To get over him,
not the other way around!

Now, sitting in the
taxi, sliding through the practically abandoned night streets of
Chicago, Susan kept thinking about the other part of what Kevin had
said. Not the “I’m over you” part, but the “I’ve moved on”
part.

Moved on to what?
Moved on to whom?

And then it hit her.
Moved on to Francesca Costa!

“That bitch,” Susan
said through gritted teeth.

“Did you say
something, ma’am?” The cabby was young and polite, with short red
hair and slightly too big ears. But his smile was warm and
sweet.

Drunkenly, Susan
leaned forward and shot him her best smile. “Change of plan, Red.
Let’s head for Foster Avenue.”

* * * *

In his hotel room
Kevin couldn’t stop thinking how amazing Susan had looked. And how
crazy she’d been acting. Dressed like a temptress, acting like
Sybil. And she’d gotten so drunk that he’d wanted to take her home
and tuck her into bed. But he’d poured her into a taxi, for he
remembered what happened the last time he’d gone near her when she
was drunk--and near a bed.

“Don’t think about
it!” He berated himself. “You’re doing the right thing. Just be her
friend, that’s what she really needs right now.” And that’s what he
really needed right then too.

He’d been
miserable the last six months. The only thing that soothed him at
all was the work he’d done on the opera house. And he’d be damned
if he was going to go on not having her in his life. He’d
survived--hell, he’d
thrived
--just having her
as his friend, living on separate sides of the United States. There
was no reason that it wouldn’t work again.

But reason had to be
reasonable, and the way he felt when he’d laid eyes on her coming
out of that boardroom wasn’t reasonable. For a fleeting instant
he’d seen the Susan that he’d loved all that time. A woman
self-possessed, a woman in charge of everything and everyone around
her. But when she saw him, she changed. All her self-confidence had
evaporated like mist. And what was up with Francesca and Susan’s
assistant?

He needed a shower.
Kevin pulled open the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off--it
smelled like Susan’s perfume. At least that hadn’t changed tonight.
He tugged his undershirt over his head, then took off his watch.
When he drew his billfold out of his pants pocket he felt how hard
he was just from thinking about Susan.

Make that a cold
shower.

He fished his keys
and some loose change from his pocket, and the small black ring
box. He didn’t have to look inside, he had the diamond ring in it
specially designed for Susan. He’d never forget it.