Sexual Politics (3 page)

Their task complete, the two of them returned to the reception area and pulled on their heavy coats. She was smiling when Sean slung his scarf around his neck.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Now what?”

Freeing her hair from under her collar, she shrugged. “I suppose Lise will be in touch once she has some names for you.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “No, I meant, what’s next on
your
agenda.”

“Ooh. Today, I have no agenda.” She liked how that sounded.

“Have you eaten lunch?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I know a little place. It makes the best salads in town.”

She laughed. “A man admitting he eats salad?”

He held the door for her. “These aren’t your ordinary salads.”

“Mmm, now I’m intrigued. Sure, why not?”

* * * *

He gave her directions and they met up in a parking garage close to the restaurant. Seeing him leaning against a sleek and sexy black Porsche, she pulled into the open space next to him. He had her door open before she even picked her purse off the passenger seat. She loved it when he offered his hand to help her out of the car. This was the second time he’d done that. It was probably silly, but the gallant attention made her feel special. Her lonely heart sped a little faster.

At his insistence, they rode the elevator down to street level then walked for half a block to the unassuming bistro. The ceilings were high with huge suspended round light fixtures. The walls were bare brick. Even the neat wait staff looked unpretentious in basic white buttoned-down shirts over black slacks or skirts and black aprons tied around their hips. Though the restaurant was dressed down, it had an upscale, almost trendy feel, elegant in its simplicity.

Settling comfortably at their intimate table for two, Justine picked up the drinks menu from the middle of the table. “Wow, they have an impressive wine selection.” She looked up when a twenty-something waiter stopped over.

“Would you like something from the bar?” the kid asked.

Sean raised his eyebrows at her and admitted, “I’d love a glass of wine.”

She brightened at the suggestion. “So would I.”

Gently drawing the small beverage menu out of her hands, Sean looked it over and ordered a respectable bottle of red they could share.

“Perfect.” She smiled and picked up the lunch menu in front of her.

He peered over the top of the centerpiece. “I recommend the lemon garlic chicken on grilled romaine with toasted almonds.”

Reading aloud from her menu, she said, “With broccoli and sweet baby carrots? Ooh, that does sound good.” She laughed at how enraptured she’d sounded. Closing her menu decisively, she nodded. “Yep. That’s what I want. What are you thinking?”

“I’m looking at the lobster salad with a side of roasted vegetables.”

“Sounds decadent.”

He winked. “It is.”

After the waiter returned with their wine and took their order, they had a quiet moment to contemplate one another across the table. She was finding more and more to like about this refreshingly different man.

Fussing with her cloth napkin, she laughed at herself. “I suppose I should come clean. Not only do I own three of your photos, I’ve read an article or two about you.”

He looked surprised. “Is that right?”

She gave a bashful nod. “Mmm-hmm.”

Now he snickered. “Should I be nervous?”

His question amused her. “Not at all. You were living on the west coast at the time. Still?”

“No. I’m back here.”

“How does your wife like the change? She’s a California native, as I recall.”

“Native
and
resident. We divorced.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He gave a philosophical shrug. “She loved my work, at first, said it was dark and penetrating. Then she stopped going to my shows, didn’t want to look at my photos anymore. She said they were too depressing.” He took a sip of his water. “In the end, we didn’t have a lot in common.”

Affronted by his ex-wife’s charge, Justine sat up straight and came to his defense. “They’re moving, not depressing.” Then she thought about it and amended her statement. “Okay, some are depressing and sad, but I understand their purpose. I think. What you do isn’t solely about the art. It’s important social commentary. You don’t allow us to sweep uncomfortable things under the rug and forget them.”

Sean grinned. “
Esquire
.”

“Yes!” She couldn’t believe he placed the article so easily.

“That was a few years ago. You have a good memory.”

“Unfortunately.”

Her mood in a temporary free fall over her own depressing realities, Justine perked up when she saw the waiter return with the entrees. Everything looked and smelled delicious.

Picking up her fork, she took a taste of the lemon garlic chicken and groaned with pleasure. “Very good.”

Sean looked pleased to hear it. After enjoying his first bite, he said, “This is off-topic, but I’ve wondered what made you decide to create Open Arms, Warm Hearts?”

In raising the new subject, he effectively put her in the hot seat. She smoothed the napkin on her lap and looked evasively away. It made confessing a little easier. “I wanted a family of my own. When I couldn’t have one, I found the next best thing. I’m helping to form new families.” Reaching for her wine, she chanced a look at him and found compassion staring back at her.

“You can’t have children?”

“I don’t know. Gary can’t.
Won’t
.”

Sean nodded slowly, a grave expression on his face. “This is going to sound forward, but I have to ask. Do you still love him?”

“No.” Ashamed of her swift admission, she dropped her gaze for a moment before looking up and finding he was still focused on her. A wave of support seemed to wash over her, buoying her body, her flagging spirits. It was a startling sensation, yet she trusted it. She trusted him, though she couldn’t explain why. “I can’t even have a dog or a cat. He’s allergic.” She laughed bitterly and wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m a miserable mess and now I’m ruining a perfectly nice meal for you. I’ll stop.”

Scowling, he reached across the table for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t you dare!”

She stared back at him, surprised. “You don’t mean that.”

“The hell I don’t.”

Biting her lower lip, she found herself smiling. “Well, I don’t want to sit here feeling all maudlin. This is
my
day!” Easing her hand out from under his, she raised her wine in a toast.

Sean tapped his glass to hers and winked. “Now you’re talking.”

Frowning with curiosity, she asked, “How is it you have free time today?”

“I wasn’t sure how long I’d be at Open Arms so I didn’t schedule anything else for this afternoon.”

“Oh. That must be nice. I don’t have a lot of say right now. There’s a woman, Lois, who organizes my schedule then tells me when I have to speak here or show up there. Another person brings me stacks of cards and letters to sign that I never have time to read first. Then I’m hustled in and out of a car driven by a man named Byrnes while a very nice but bossy woman named Marie fills me in on what I’ll be doing at our next engagement. Sometimes I swear they would all follow me into the ladies room if I didn’t say, ‘I’ll be right back,’ before running off to steal two minutes for myself. I hate being handled.”

“I’ll bet. You’re used to being in charge.”

“I know. I miss it.”

“Considering this is a rare escape for you, what are you going to do today?”

Sipping her wine, she pondered the question. “Maybe I’ll go to the museum.”

“Would you like some company?”

“Are you offering?”

“Yes. I’d love to go to the museum with you.”

“You’re on.”

* * * *

They took Sean’s sexy black Porsche Cayman. The new car smell mingled with the leather seats cupping her body. It was a heady pleasure. The only thing the ride lacked was heat. Unfortunately they reached the museum before the engine fully warmed up.

He noticed her hugging herself and rubbing her arms as they hurried into the building. “Hot coffee first?”

She gave an eager nod. “Good idea. I think the temperature is dropping out there. I can feel it even through my gloves.”

They visited the on-site café. He left her to hold a small table for them while he went up to the counter to order their beverages.

He had a small disposable cup in each hand when he returned. “As requested, hazelnut for you. Amaretto for me.”

“Thank you.” She wrapped her cold fingers around it and sighed. “Normally I avoid caffeine after noon, but some days you have to make exceptions.” She took a taste and moaned with pleasure—delicious.

Taking the opposite chair he said, “When I was younger, I could drink coffee all day long—or soda. Now I cut myself off early, otherwise my camera isn’t steady when I’m working.”

“At least with the weekend here, you can freely indulge yourself. Live dangerously.”

Grinning, he took a careful sip. “I like how you think.”

“It’s the bad girl in me.”

He chuckled. “You vixen.”

That made her laugh. “You’re good company, Sean.”

“I like hanging with you too, Justine.” He frowned in thought. “Justine. You can’t really shorten that. Did you ever have a nickname?”

“No,” she admitted. “Even my parents called me by my name. No ‘peanut’, no ‘pumpkin’.”

“Interesting.”

“How about you?”

He smiled. “Only one. My grandfather used to call me Seany Boy in a strange James Cagney voice.”

She found herself laughing at the image in her mind. “You’re one up on me.”

Feeling warmth return to her chilly limbs, Justine was excited to get started. They threw away their empty cups then wandered back to the museum’s grand entrance.

Looking up and around, taking it all in, she admired the beautiful architecture. “I haven’t been here in years. I don’t know why. I’ve always loved it.”

“I come often. Anything you want to see first?” He locked eyes with her. “Show me what
you
like.”

Reading the sexy invitation in his request, Justine felt her cheeks flush with heat. Had she known he was going to lay a line like that on her she could have skipped the coffee. Reaching for a couple of maps, one for each of them, she replied to the question rather than the loaded context. “Sculptures. Classical sculptures are my favorite, but I enjoy it all.”

I enjoy it all?
Oh good Lord, did she say that out loud? How was he interpreting it? Worried about the escalating innuendo, she snuck a peek and caught him smiling. This was awkward and she was rusty. It didn’t help she was insanely attracted to this man. To her relief he shifted his attention to the map in his hands.

“This looks like the best route.” He pointed it out to her on his map. “We can hit the portrait gallery after that, if you’re interested.”

“Yes. I’m interested.” Groaning on the inside, she wondered why she couldn’t shut up. She needed to stop with the allusive comments and inappropriate hints right this minute. It was one thing to privately fantasize about
what ifs
. It was another entirely to encourage them in reality.

“Have you seen the Pompeii exhibit?” he asked.

She flipped her map over and saw the advertisement. “No, I forgot it was here!”

“We should make our way over there. Who knows when we’ll get another chance?”

That’s where they started. It was beautiful, fascinating, and heartbreaking, especially to see the castings of the bodies captured in their last moments of life.

She leaned close to Sean as they examined one of the figures and whispered, “Isn’t it incredible? It’s like he was caught mid-fall.”

Sean nodded gravely.

She went on. “It makes me sad. This happened over two thousand years ago and still…it moves me.”

He reached up and rubbed her back in a comforting way. She nearly sank against him, only catching herself at the last second.

Continuing on to her favorite exhibit, Justine suddenly wished she’d kept her mouth shut earlier. All the things she admired so much about these pieces—the exquisite details, the muscle tone and graceful contours, various facial expressions, and the dramatic poses—was lost in a haze of embarrassment as she stared over and over again at the idealized human form. It didn’t matter that she was in her late thirties and knew the anatomical secrets of men. Like an overly curious pre-teen, she was drawn to every marble penis, every solid scrotum. Where was her self-control? She couldn’t stop herself from looking, though her innate good taste made her shy away just as quickly. Her hormones and head were in a strange, indecent tug-of-war.

“Like a frightened turtle,” murmured Sean out of the blue.

Snickering in surprise, Justine muffled her laugh and nodded in agreement before fleeing past some of her favorite pieces without giving them the consideration they deserved. Sean was forced to follow. Spotting a water fountain in the corridor beyond, she headed for it. He caught up with her as she bent for a much needed drink.

Blotting her lips with her hand afterward, she straightened and turned on him, stifling her giggles. “You’re wicked.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Someone had to say it.”

“Was I so obvious?” she asked, cringing with shame, but she needed to know.

He shook with muted laughter. “You seemed…
fixated
in there.”

She covered her face with both hands and gave a painful groan, though she was smiling. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Been a while, has it?”

She dropped her hands and sighed. “Just between us?”

“Of course.”

“Too long,” she confessed.

“I suspected as much.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “There is a remedy, you know.”

“Not for me.”

He studied her silently for an uncomfortable beat before he finally nodded. “I see.”

Frowning, she looked around and noticed the quiet alcove housing ancient pottery behind her. She backed into it and waved impatiently for him to join her.

Hands on her hips, she stood up to him. “I see what you’re thinking, but I’m
married
. It might not be the most satisfying or…” She looked around to be sure she wasn’t overheard and dropped her voice. “...ideal arrangement, but that doesn’t mean I can simply ignore my vows. It would be hypocritical to condemn Gary for his indiscretions then do the same thing myself.”