Windward Whisperings (9 page)

Back in bed, the way his body responded, he had an insatiable hunger for her, too. He grew hard
in the space of a heartbeat. “I haven’t reacted to a woman like this since high school. I was with you
back then.” He scraped a hand across his unshaven face.

“I’m not exactly immune to you, either.” She nestled close, dragging her blanket up to cover her
breasts.
“Don’t cover yourself up. I want to look at you.” His penis stirred against her and thickened.
“The weekend’s half over. You can only see half.” On purpose, she let the edge of the blanket
dip, displaying the tops of her breasts and valley between them.
“What shall we do tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid I can’t play.”
“You’re busy on Sunday?”
“I go to church and then volunteer at the hospital.”
“I didn’t pick you for a church woman.”
“It’s a broad church. I keep the commandments.” She met his gaze, but his wandered south and
locked on her cleavage. It was just the reaction she’d hoped for. He’d leave and still want her.
“How about this, skip church and reschedule volunteering?” He threw her a pained look.
“I’m locked in. I pick up Coral, the sixteen-year-old who lost a foot. We go to church and out to
breakfast. After that, we volunteer in the amputee wing.”
“What do you do for them?”
“Most of their problems are on the surface. They learn to mobilize a different way. We like
being there when they accomplish that. It thrills us to the bone.”
His jaw muscle twitched.
She teased, “Now, don’t be mad. I have time for one board game, but then I need to take Thor
on a walk.
“Monopoly?”
“With us, the rules will be different.” She let the blanket drop. “The loser does something he or
she has never done before.”
His hungry gaze centered on her bare breasts. “Maybe our board game will last all night.”
“Sorry. Tonight I sleep.”
He kissed a nipple while his thumb made the other grow hard. “I’m hungry. Still, not for food.”
They went the first round. When Garrett lost, he pinned her against the shower wall, and
washed her in all areas between her thighs. They went another round. When she lost, she put on a
one-woman show, touching herself. She did her best to show arousal in her expression, let her black
hair spill over her eyes while she gasped and moaned. The kick it gave her was the pleasure she was
giving him. She felt like a cat in heat.

The full moon was a huge, bright light in the sky, casting a glow. Ahead, Thor moved along the
beach in the semidarkness. Garrett’s cell rang. It was Nana begging him to come for a visit. He told
her in a month and felt guilty.

Kitzie said, “They miss you.”
“I can’t always be there for them. They’ve become so manipulative. I’m so damn busy, not to
mention being on the opposite coast. They’re past caring about my schedule. I need to do it when I
can. I don’t like being forced.” He slipped the phone into his pocket.
She eased her warm hand into his. “They’re at risk for loneliness, Gar. Even with all those nice
people you pay, they want to see
you
. Money doesn’t solve all problems.” Her voice was soft and
warm. Her speech had an easy rhythm because she was a manipulator herself.
“I can’t visit them now.” His voice sounded flat.
“When you do, I’d like to come. I have flyer miles.” She smoothed her hand down his arm and
stopped at his wrist. “A button is loose.”
He bent his elbow and pulled at the navy thread protruding from the sleeve button. “This is my
favorite jacket.”
“Yeah, it’s a Hugo Boss. Leave it with me. I’ll sew it on.”
“You’re an impossible woman, Kitzie. You cook and sew, but you’d starve before you’d accept a
piece of bread from me. Hell, you even have frequent flyer miles. Finally, I could outspend you a
hundred to one, but you won’t let me.” He was running out of ideas.
“Maybe I don’t want to get used to fancy restaurants and a first-class cabin.”
“Tell you what. You sew on the button, and next weekend we’ll go to Duke’s.”
“It’s a deal.” She scanned his face and pulled the jacket off his shoulder.
He was frowning.
“Did the board game not agree with you?”
“Of course it agreed with me, but there’s something about a game. I guess I feel like your toy.”
He wiggled his other shoulder out of the jacket and then handed it to her.
She laughed. “Forgive me. I was trying to keep things light between us.” She rose on her tiptoes
for a kiss.
Since their last kiss in the tub, his body had been humming with anticipation for another. He
kissed her deeply and breathed the fragrance she wore, the enticing scent of pomegranates. “You
have quite an assortment of feminine weapons.” He rested his chin on her head. “Well, with us, I
doubt if we can keep it light. To leave you again, I can’t imagine it. In the meantime, I need to find a
way to save Naiad.”
“I hope you can. I never want you to be unhappy.”
He hugged her and left. If she had reached for him, he would have made love to her all over
again.

His Beemer took him on a lonely drive to his rented condo. The sun had set, but he heard
seagulls and the surf. As he settled inside his condo, he reminded himself that he was a rational man.
A weekend with Kitzie had changed that. Or, perhaps she’d awakened something inside him that lay
dormant for ten years.

He knew he had a tendency to bury himself under work and to thrive on pressure. She’d either
make him a better person or ruin him. Odd, a woman who cared about amputees and senior citizens
could yank him out of his comfort zone. Her agenda pushed toward relentless.

They were lovers again, occupying the same space in time. He dragged his thoughts to a place of
less confusion, the business of saving Naiad Boatworks. He thought in broad strokes revolving
around the sales department.

Naiad had a whopping inventory of Starrs. The affordable harbor racers should sell. If they did,
Naiad would be out of the red. Perhaps the sales staff took kickbacks for not selling. If they had a
set salary and Naiad commissions were less than a kickback, it’d be worth it.

He logged onto his laptop and used Biltmore’s all-encompassing password to search through
salesmen’s payroll files. He expected them to look normal. They always did at first glance, but then
he compared them with sales history. When he found dramatic drop-off, he shared the information
with Leviticus Blake.

He knew a sales department getaway, designed to boost enthusiasm, was on the March schedule.
Sedona had given him a list of convention centers, but nothing had been booked. Since Biltmore
had given him free rein with finances, he could use those funds elsewhere. Monday, he’d review
fiberglass by-products for each class boat they produced. He’d determine the most popular among
them, and go from there.

Still on his computer, e-mails had piled up. He should respond to them. Instead, he phoned
Nana and Poppy.
He heard two clicks. They’d answered their phones simultaneously.
“Hello, Garrett.”
“Hello, dear.”
They exchanged weather news, more interesting on the East Coast than the West, and then he
asked, “Remember Kitzie? She’s coming along when I visit you in a month.”
Poppy asked, “You’re seeing the wild African American beauty again?”
Hallelujah. Part of his memory is in tact.
Nana said, “Why don’t you two visit us next weekend?”
“I’ll arrange it.” After he hung up, he bought two e-tickets. His phone rang again. This time it
was Kitzie.

Sitting up in bed, the sheet to his waist, he rested his hand on her bare shoulder. “You’re a
dedicated lover.”
“While you’re here, feel free to order me around.” She wiggled under the covers. “I will obey.”
“That’s not the way it is, and you know it.” His recollection of the night before was the exact
opposite, when it came to his schedule. He had been about to turn in, but she’d phoned, inviting
herself over. After that, he took control. He wanted her to keep coming back. His body always
ached for more.
The alarm came on with the crackle of talk-radio. He reached over and turned down the volume.
She nestled against his shoulder. “What time is it, bright eyes?”
“Five-thirty. For a Monday morning, I’m bushy tailed.”
“Hope your energy lasts through your meeting.” Her hand moved along his arm with a warm
touch. She bunched closer and moved a leg across his thighs.
“It could turn into a blame-game between departments.” He was fully aware that his talents
didn’t lie in interpersonal relationships. He curled a strand of her straightened black hair around his
finger. She was ample breasted but on the thin side. Still, she was completely beautiful. Her caramel
skin was the softest he’d ever touched. Because it was on her, he could get drunk on the scent of her
lotion, which he knew to be some sort of pomegranate extract. “You’ll explain that bag process.”
“I’ve practiced my spiel.” She scooted up until her head rested on his chest. “It won’t cost much.
If the workers in production like the idea, don’t be a chameleon. They need someone to stand up for
them.”
“You can. I’m on Biltmore’s side. Naiad’s on its ass.”
“Maybe we’re both working for the wrong company.” Several seconds ticked past until she said,
“I need to get home, take Thor on a walk. Hey, I’m excited about seeing your grandparents.”
“Glad you are. Be sure to compliment Nana on her African Violets. Take notice of her earrings.
You’ll have to look hard for tiny birdhouses, bees, frogs, apples, and you-name-it.”
“Tell me, what was her last decorating project?”
“In particular, she likes to wallpaper. She doesn’t stop with the walls. She covers everything
standing against them. Last fall, her wallpapering venture cost me fifteen hundred.”
Kitzie smiled. “Bet it gives their place a nice change.”
“Hey. I appreciated you coming over.” Last night she’d kissed her way from his heels to his
forehead and took her time doing it. Any thoughts of hostilities lying in wait at the meeting had
flown out of his brain like leaves on the wind. Now, those worries were back.
“It’s freezing in here.”
“That’s what I like about southern California. The temperature drops at night are invigorating.
She scrambled from bed and threw on the silk robe she’d left on a chair. She pushed aside
vertical blinds and shut a sliding glass door. “The temperature must have dropped forty degrees. Did
you turn into an Eskimo?”
“Nope. I’m just your hot lover.”
“True. I’ve got glowing marks to prove it.” On her way across the room, she turned around and
walked backward, touching her hip, her breast. “I’m glowing all over, here and here. And here.” She
slipped the robe from her shoulder.
“I like you best in nothing.”
Flashing a smile, she opened the robe, holding it out like wings. Slowly, she let it slide down her
back, just above her buttocks. “Is this far enough?”
“All the way off.”
The robe dropped to the floor. Her body was a curve against the window until a headlight from
a passing car washed over her body, turning her into a figure of bronze. As the car turned the
corner, light outlined her breasts and legs. She laughed. “If I were a hooker, what would you pay
me?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
“You want me. You couldn’t stop yourself from coming over last night, remember? Get over
here.”
Kitzie crossed the room. When she reached the bed, she lifted the sheet and crawled under it.
Her hands were like ice on his body.
He laughed and reached to protect his groin.
Her mouth warmed him.

There wasn’t much traffic on his drive to Naiad. Coming up on a yellow traffic light about to
turn red, he glanced into the rearview mirror. He hoped for no hidden cop cars and put the pedal to
the metal.
It was only pink, officer.

He thought he might beat the guards into work. Apparently not, someone moved inside the
shack window. The chainlink gate rolled back, and he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.
Soon settling into Biltmore’s office, he started coffee, and then walked to the shop floor.
He’d been there once before when Biltmore had given him a tour. He’d breezed in and out but
didn’t pay much attention. This morning he needed to scope out a meeting spot for thirty people
from middle management and up.
The shop floor looked dirtier than he’d remembered. Walls were smudged. Couldn’t have been
painted in years, he decided. The colors mimicked a battleship, gray with a water line of navy. An air
conditioner rattled away in a corner. He heard commotion above and looked up.
Edgar Wedemeyer, the production department head, was stacking boxes up on the mezzanine
catwalk.
Garrett didn’t want to startle him. He watched as Edgar maneuvered a hand truck under a stack
of cardboard boxes that he’d set by the railing on the catwalk. Each was marked WEDEMEYER in
uneven capital letters.
Soon he was directly under the catwalk, close enough to speak in a normal tone. He bent
backward. “Morning, Edgar.”
“Hey. I thought this room would be deserted. I’ve been promoted. Maybe you didn’t know.”
“I did. Congratulations.”
“Biltmore arranged for me to have an office up here. I’m moving stuff from my cubicle to my
new office.” He nodded toward a crow’s nest office on the mezzanine level. A bank of windows
towered over the floor.
“You’ll be closer to the action.” Garrett took the stairs up, two by two. “Smells like fresh paint.”
“My wife and I painted it yesterday. Maryrose thought a creamy white would be brighter than
the gray.”
“I’m sure it needed it.” In spite of Edgar being a suck up, Garrett liked the guy’s enthusiasm. He
walked past the production manager to admire his office. “Turn in your receipt for reimbursement.”
“Thanks, I will. Saw your memo, something about a meeting? Haven’t read the details. It’ll be in
the conference room, right?” Edgar was referring to the one in the executive wing. Viewed through
double doors, it was impressive with heavy woodwork and traditional paneling.
“It’ll be here. At ten.”
Edgar had lost his balance. He slipped from the hand truck and hit the railing hard at hip level.
The momentum sent his torso over the edge and picked up his feet. His arms flailed.
Garrett caught the fabric of his shirt. In a split second, the railing gave way. With a loud snap,
the horizontal bar broke from one post and swung from the other. There was the crashing of wood.
Twisted metal hung from the railing post.
“Thanks, man.” Edgar steadied himself on the unbroken portion of the railing. “The foreman
told me about weak rails. I sent a report to Biltmore, but he didn’t want to spend the money.”
“We’ll fix it. Avoid a law suit.” Garrett peered over the edge. If he hadn’t caught him, Edgar
would have landed in a boat hull thirty feet below.
Shaking, Edgar steadied himself on the hand truck.
Garrett scanned the assembly floor. A long row of Starr-14s sat on lightweight aluminum
trailers. He knew they had more boats than orders.
Big doors at either end that had been rolled shut would open soon for light. Fluorescent tubes in
wire cages pressed their weak light into the enormous space. “We’ll stop production until the rails
on both sides are replaced. You have the authority to order more lighting, have it installed. Get these
walls painted the color of papaya. Call union painters. We don’t have scaffolding, and they do.” He’d
shift funds away from the sales department conference.
“But, the men will be here in fifteen minutes to lay the next layer of fiberglass.”
“That will wait. Put them on the repairs. We’re going to use a new method for fiberglass. You’ll
hear about it at the meeting.”
“Yes, sir.”
Garrett let his gaze drift over the floor. “We’ll have the meeting in that corner while the work
goes on. Invite the shop foreman. Bring the figures for resins and catalysts.”
Edgar acquiesced with a shrug. “See you here at ten then.”
For a while, Garrett hung around. He worked with the foreman to set up tables and chairs and
noted his Spanish accent. A janitor wheeled down two gigantic coffeepots. Sedona popped in and
borrowed the janitor to pick up Starbucks grounds and items from Madge’s, the bakery on the little
downtown boulevard.
He attempted small talk with workers, but they didn’t speak much English. They stood around
doing nothing with concerned expressions. He located Miguel Torres, the bilingual foreman, again,
and asked him to explain the confusion over the work delay. Garrett made a spur of the moment
decision and walked over to Torres. “Invite your men to the meeting. Translate.”
Torres nodded. “That’d be good, Mr. Mackenzie, because they worry. They see the
improvements going on around them. They’re not doing them. I have to ask, will there be
cutbacks?”
“Not now. I can’t say there won’t be.”