The Lonely Hearts Club (10 page)

“Jae,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

*

“Are you working this weekend?” Liz asked as she took the exit from the Vine Street overpass onto Twenty-third Street. As she headed south of Market into a more residential section of Center City, the traffic eased and she glanced at Reilly in the passenger seat. Reilly sprawled, legs apart, head back, forearms resting in the bend of her thighs. She gave the appearance of being utterly relaxed, but Liz felt a thrum of barely suppressed tension vibrate in the air between them.

“No,” Reilly replied. “I’m back-up call on Sunday, and it’s probably fifty-fifty that I’ll get called in, but I’m not on first call again until Monday. There are five of us, so it works out to about once every four days, considering vacations and things like that.”

“How about I pick you up in the morning and take you back to your car?”

Reilly rolled her head to the side and regarded Liz for so long Liz thought she was going to refuse. Then she said, “Only if I buy you breakfast.”

“The Downtown Diner?” Liz asked.

“Is there any other place?”

“Not that I can think of.” Liz hoped her stomach would be settled enough to do the place justice.

“So we have a deal?” Reilly asked.

“Deal,” Liz repeated. Not a date, she immediately added silently as Candace’s warning that she should tell Reilly about the baby echoed in her mind. She would tell her, if the right moment came along, but the topic wasn’t something that just popped up in casual conversation. And that’s all that was really happening between them—a few casual meetings. They were neighbors, but she needed to know someone a lot better than that before she confessed her secrets. “Is eight o’clock too early?”

“I’m a surgeon, remember? That’s lunch.”

Liz laughed as she turned onto Pine and double-parked in front of the address Reilly gave her. “I keep early hours, too, but Saturday
is
Saturday. You’re allowed to sleep in.”

Even with Reilly’s face partially in shadow, Liz could see her expression change. For a brief instant, sadness washed across her features, blunting the sharp clear planes of her face and leaving a shimmering after-image of loss. Liz leaned closer and touched Reilly’s hand. “I wish…”

Liz hesitated, surprised both by her actions and her uncertain sentiment. What was she doing? Reilly grew very still, her hand slowly closing into a fist beneath Liz’s fingers. Liz fought the urge to wrap both her hands around Reilly’s, as if she could take away the hurt with something as simple as a touch. Foolish, because she should know better than anyone that wasn’t possible.

“You took such good care of me the other day,” Liz said. “I wish I could somehow return the favor.”

“Well,” Reilly said, her voice husky, “you did cheer for me tonight, and I’m pretty sure I got that last hit because you were louder than anyone out there.”

Liz recognized the evasion, but respected Reilly’s right to her privacy. God knew, she protected her own. “Then I’ll have to do it more often.”

“That should work.” Reilly turned her hand over and squeezed Liz’s fingers, a fleeting connection that nevertheless felt to Liz like a caress. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night,” Liz said. She waited in the car and watched as Reilly climbed the stairs to her building, keyed the lock, and finally disappeared inside. Only then did she recognize the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach as disappointment. She had hoped Reilly would ask her in.

“Crazy, that’s what that kind of thinking is,” Liz muttered as she drove away. “You have got more than enough to handle without complicating it with someone, even a very nice someone like Reilly Danvers.”

Reilly Danvers. Liz liked the sound of her name. She liked the way she traveled around the bases, sleek and sure. She liked the way she occupied space, as if she owned it. She especially liked the way Reilly had gently held her hair back and wiped her face when she’d been sick. She liked a lot about Reilly Danvers. Enough that it was time to be extra careful.

Reilly stared at the ceiling, watching dawn chase the night shadows away. Even as the room lightened, unease lay heavily in her chest.

Saturday
is
Saturday
.

Liz had made the observation lightly, as if everyone would understand the meaning. Weekends were mini-holidays, after all, two days in which to do something special. Two days to relax and enjoy life. Except that wasn’t true for her. Weekends were no different than any other days of the week. Saturday wasn’t a day to sleep late, make leisurely love, and drink coffee in bed with the newspapers scattered across the covers. Sunday wasn’t a day to take an early morning run, go back to bed after a quick shower, and awaken a woman with soft kisses and murmured promises. Those intimate moments were no longer part of her life.

She had accepted the emptiness in her life, even welcomed it, because even though she missed Annie, she also took comfort in knowing she could not repeat her past mistakes if she remained alone. She would always miss Annie’s smile, her laughter, and even the anger that so often ended in kisses. But just the same, her thoughts of Annie had faded these past few years—until meeting Liz. Odd, that Liz made her think of Annie. They were nothing alike. If anything, Annie had been more like Liz’s friend Candace. Annie had charged through life, a little wild, a little reckless, wanting to experience everything on the edge. Life with Annie had been a crazy ride filled with delirious pleasures and unexpected pain and hidden secrets. Secrets, Reilly had learned, that could kill.

Reilly threw aside the sheet and sat up on the side of the bed, hating that the memories had come back to haunt her now, when she had finally succeeded in burying them. She couldn’t change the past, couldn’t undo the mistakes she had made, and she still had nowhere to go with her fury. Annie was not here to answer the question that haunted her. Why? Why hadn’t Annie trusted her?

Annie wasn’t here to answer, but one thing Reilly knew with certainty—she had failed the woman she loved, and she never wanted to be in a position where it could happen again. If that meant being alone forever she didn’t care. Loneliness was a small price to pay for her sins.

Reilly glanced at her bedside clock, wondering what the hell she was doing. She was supposed to see Liz in just a few hours. Liz was somehow responsible for the past plaguing her so ferociously these last few weeks, and that alone should have been reason enough to avoid her. But it wasn’t. Liz was warm and open and refreshingly direct—exactly the opposite of Annie, and the kind of company Reilly hadn’t realized she craved.

She grabbed a T-shirt and shorts from a pile on a nearby chair, pulled on socks and her running shoes, and lifted her house key from a hook by the door. A run would clear her head. Having breakfast with a woman she liked wasn’t a crime, not when she knew what she needed to guard against.

*

“Sun’s coming up,” Parker murmured, cradling Candace in her arms as she slowly stroked inside her. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“Oh God,” Candace moaned. “If you stop, I’ll kill you.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Candace wrapped both arms around Parker’s neck and pressed her face against her throat. Her hips undulated with the building pressure. “Just shut up and make me come.”

Parker laughed. “Aren’t you doing that right now?”

“Uh-huh.” Candace bit down on the thick muscle at the base of Parker’s neck as she closed around Parker’s fingers and her orgasm spilled out.

“Beautiful,” Parker whispered, her clit jumping as Candace shuddered. “You make me so hot.”

“Keep going,” Candace gasped weakly, caressing Parker’s face, then her breasts. Parker groaned and Candace slipped her hand lower, drawing teasing circles on Parker’s stomach. “I want to come again. Want to come with me?”

“Oh yeah, please.”

“What…what do you want?”

Parker lifted her hips. “Just stroke me.”

Candace pushed herself up and straddled Parker’s stomach with Parker’s hand still inside her. She reached back, gripped Parker’s wet center, and squeezed. On the verge of climaxing herself, she laughed wildly as Parker stiffened and her eyes rolled back.

“Yes, oh baby yes.” Parker arched her back, her free hand grasping air.

“Parker,” Candace snapped. “Don’t you dare come yet.”

“Jesus,” Parker gasped, her face a mask of pained pleasure. “What do you want from me?”

“Fuck me,” Candace growled, rolling her palm over Parker’s clit. Parker thrust into her, hard, and again, harder, and Candace started to come. Above the raging scream of her own orgasm, she heard Parker cry out. Then there was nothing except mind-melting pleasure.

Moments later, Candace fell over onto her back and sighed. “That was excellent.”

“Yes,” Parker said, her voice a husky whisper. “It certainly was.”

Lazily, Candace turned her head on the pillow and regarded Parker. Her hair was damp, her neck and chest still flushed with satisfaction. The muscles in her neck that had been so tight as she orgasmed just seconds before now fluttered delicately beneath her sweat-slick skin. Candace always took pleasure in pleasing a lover, but seeing Parker so completely unguarded struck her as indescribably beautiful. Candace’s chest constricted with unfamiliar emotion, and she immediately had the urge to flee.

“Feel free to use the shower,” Candace said.

“You’re right, I need one.” Parker rolled over, kissed her until Candace was on the verge of asking her to stay, then pulled away. “Go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

“Thanks.” Candace smiled and caressed Parker’s cheek. “See you around.”

Parker’s eyes were dark, unreadable. “See you.”

*

Liz munched on soda crackers as she gathered her purse and keys. Happily, her stomach was cooperating for a change, and she thought she might actually be able to eat breakfast. Out of habit, she slowed in front of the mirror in the vestibule. During the week on her way to work, she checked her makeup, but today she checked her figure. Her jeans had seemed the tiniest bit tight when she tucked in her pale green scoop tee. She was just a little past ten weeks, and she didn’t think she should be showing yet. Even naked she hadn’t been able to discern any difference in her body. Still, she felt a little self-conscious, although she didn’t know why she should. Whether or not Reilly Danvers found her attractive was not high on her “important things I need in life” list.

Resolutely, she reached for the door only to stop almost immediately as her cell vibrated on her hip.

“Liz Ramsey,” she said, not even bothering to check the caller ID. It was too early on a Saturday for Candace, and Bren rarely called, not being a phone person. So it was likely the office.

“Did I wake you?” a soft, sultry voice inquired.

Liz’s stomach plummeted and she braced one arm against the door as her legs threatened to go wobbly. She took in a slow breath to make sure her voice didn’t quaver. “No. I was just on my way out.”

“You’re not working so early on a Saturday, are you?”

“Julia, you never cared when I worked before. Why are you calling?” Liz was pleased to hear that her voice held an edge. She hated that a simple phone call from Julia could unsettle her. But then, everything unsettled her these days. The other night she’d cried over a car commercial.

“I was hoping I could come by this morning.”

“Why?”

“We have some paperwork to sort out—insurance policies, that sort of thing. And we should talk about the buyout on the condo.”

“Today’s not a good day,” Liz said abruptly. “In fact, just about any day is a bad day. Have your attorney call my attorney. I really don’t want to see you.”

“Liz, honey—”

“Don’t. Don’t pretend there’s anything between us. You made it very clear there wasn’t.”

“I know the timing was terrible—”

“You’re right, it was,” Liz said. “It was about six years too late. And I’m about to be late for breakfast. Goodbye.”

Liz disconnected the call and closed her eyes. She was shaking. Damn Julia, or maybe, damn
her
for being so blind for so long. How had she not seen that they had become nothing more than shadows in one another’s lives? How had she ever imagined that they could raise a child together? She touched her abdomen. This child would change her life in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine. For the first time, she was thankful that Julia was gone. Her child would never have to bear the burden of holding together a relationship that wasn’t meant to be.

With another deep breath, she left the apartment and took the elevator down to the parking garage. Even though Reilly was only a few blocks away, Liz was ten minutes late arriving. Reilly was waiting outside, leaning against a lamppost on the corner half a block down from her house. In her tight blue jeans and faded red cotton shirt, she was easy to pick out among the surprisingly large number of people already out and about. Liz drew alongside her and powered down the passenger side window.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Do I still get breakfast?”