Can't Touch This (20 page)

I
 turn to Rory.
“I’m sorry about that.”

He shrugs as he sits there with an open shirt and gray boxers, his trousers draped over the chair.  “Don’t worry about it.  Nosy co-worker?”

I scoot up on the bed against the headboard.  “Something like that.”

He lets out a long stream of air.  I do the same.  Everything’s changed.  The mood’s been killed.  His appetite for me has faded and suddenly I’m not amorous either.

He stretches out on the bed next to me, burying his face in the pillows.  “I’m so tired,” he mutters.

“The show starts in like seven hours.”

“I know,” he mutters.  Frustration steams off of him like a hot shower.

I tug my dress up over my shoulders to cover myself.  My voracious craving for him is gone.  I can’t even imagine picking up where we left off.  It would be… wrong.  My stomach growls and I feel nauseated that I lied to Kyle, after he’s been nothing but nice to me.

I want Rory to leave.

Now.

I don’t know how to tell him that, though.  I don’t want to be labeled a tease.

Rory looks up and smiles.  “Your hair’s all messed up.”

“Gee, I wonder why?”  I reach over to run my fingers through my unruly hair.  “Rory...”

“Uh-hmm...”

It seems wrong to be with him now.  I feel dirty.  Totally deceitful.  I’m a disappointment to my company, to my colleagues, to professional women everywhere, and especially to Kyle.

As Rory’s lips move across my neck, I tense up.  I can’t do this.  Not after hearing Kyle’s caring voice on the phone.  To sleep with Rory now would be a huge mistake.  Tantamount to professional suicide.

It’s not who I am.

Rory obviously doesn’t feel the same way.  He begins to nibble my ear and his tongue sweeps the sensitive flesh of my lobe.  I close my eyes for a second, and try to unwind, but the image that comes into full view in my mind of the man stretched out next to me, caressing me, is Kyle, not Rory.

I bolt straight up.

“What’s wrong, Vanessa?” Rory asks, sitting up, too.

“Nothing, it’s just—  Look, Rory, I’m sorry.  I don’t think it’s a good idea to—”  I focus on my hands in my lap, unable to meet his stare.

 “Getting cold feet?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m an easy lay.”

“There’s nothing easy about you,” he says with a crooked grin.

“I’m serious, Rory.  I’m not a one-night-stander.  I’m a relationship gal.  I can’t just—”

He stands up and moves toward his pants.  “Don’t worry, Vanessa.  Your virtue is safe.”  He fastens the slacks, bends down, and cups my face in his hands.  “I should go.”

“Yeah, I think so.”  Surprisingly, I’m relieved.  Now I’m not being disloyal or unfaithful to anyone.

Rory blows me a kiss as he heads to the door.  “Get some sleep.”

When the door closes, I roll over and pound my fist into the pillow and groan.  That’s what I get for answering the phone.  Late night calls are always trouble.

*****

T
he next morning,
after fitful sleep filled with images of Rory and Kyle melding in to one person—
I’m going insane—
I shower, dress, and head over to the Moscone Center.  Reagan’s obviously hung-over.  Kyle nods at me and returns to setting up his computer in our cordoned off conference space.

I’m glad Rory left last night because I could never look Kyle in the face if the deal had been consummated.  “Everyone feeling okay?” I ask to cover my uneasiness.

Reagan groans.  “I feel like ass.  What was in those drinks?”

I pat her on the back.  “A lot of alcohol.”  I peer in at Kyle.  “What’s up with you?”

“Client meetings.  Hope it’s okay that I’ve taken over this space.”  He’s dressed to the hilt in a black suit, tan shirt and silk tie.  He looks like a million bucks.  And ready to get down to business, as per usual.

“Good luck to you.  Knock’em dead.”  I swivel back around to Reagan.  “Either of you seen Ted this morning?”

“Called his room twice last night, but no answer,” Kyle says.

Hmmm, so maybe I’m reading too much in to my late night phone call.  Perhaps Kyle was simply checking in on all of us?

The booth is soon packed with people, but we’re short-handed because Ted doesn’t show up until almost noon.  He gets a healthy glare from both Kyle and me when he finally crosses into the booth.

“Where have you been?” I demand.

Kyle steps up.  “Dude, we’ve got clients looking for you.”

“I’m sorry.  Really I am.”  Ted’s eyes are beet red and he reeks of cigarette smoke.

Kyle waves his hand in the air.  “Ever heard of a shower?”

“What happened to you last night?” I ask.

“I was so wasted.  I went to my room, changed into my swim trunks, went and got in the hot tub, and fell asleep.

Kyle isn’t thrilled with this news.  “Passed out, you mean.”

Ted shrugs.  “A security guard making rounds found me this morning and rousted me out.  I’m sorry guys.”

I shake my head.  “Ted, you could’ve drowned.”

“No, there wasn’t any water in it.”

Suddenly the tension in the air over his lateness cracks like veneer and Kyle and I almost fall over laughing.

“I’m never gonna let you live this down, man,” Kyle says with a smirk and slaps him on the back.

Ted scowls and moves to his demo station.  “Go fuck yourselves.”

By the end of the day, I want to cut my feet off.  Reagan’s back hurts and Ted’s itching for nicotine.  Kyle has had a steady stream of unhappy customers in the conference room, but they all withdraw smiling.  Gorgeous, and he’s good at his job.

Ted is wrapping up a final demo when his computer battery is finally exhausted.  “Oh man, I left the power cable in my room.  Vanessa, can I use your laptop over here?”

“No problem.”  I dig my computer out of the bag and quickly set it up.  When the power comes on, the techno-dance CD blares out.

Mortified, I hurry to click it off.  “Sorry, I was listening to music last night.”  That means my Director demo disk is in my hotel room.  “You’ll need a CD.”

Ted pops the disk out of his computer and doesn’t miss a beat.  Fifteen minutes later when the show closes, he’s made a sale.  “Thanks Vanessa.”  He ejects his CD.  “You saved my ass.”

“Anything for the team.”

Thoroughly depleted of energy, I rejoice when the last booth panel is in the crate, labeled for shipping, and sent off with the union handlers.  Now, I might have time to find Rory before our flights.  I don’t want to leave things like we did last night.

First, I have to settle my tradeshow bill.  I’d given them my corporate card when the show started, so it’s only a matter of signing off and making sure I get a discount for the one-armed man, Sid.

Reagan and Kyle accompany me to the decorator’s desk.   The woman at the counter takes my forms and then announces, quite boisterously, “DigitalDirection.  Your credit card was declined.”

I spin around; horrified that my fellow exhibitors might think I’m skipping out on my bill.  That’s when my eyes meet Rory’s steely blue ones.  I had no idea he was in line next to me.  Is that a smirk on his face?  Son of a...

Think fast.

“Oh, there must be some mix up,” I say in a hushed voice.  “It’s a company card and there shouldn’t be any problems.”

“Well, there
is
a problem because we’ve run it twice.”

“Do you have another one?” Reagan asks.

I bite down on my bottom lip wondering how to solve this.  “No.  That’s it.”

Rory slides along the counter.  “Everything okay, Vanessa?”  I see a yellow receipt in his hand.  Apparently SalesTracker doesn’t have any problem with
their
company credit cards.

“Oh, err, no, nothing at all.”

“You call not being able to pay your bill ‘nothing at all?’” the woman snarks off.

“Do you need help?”  Rory reaches for his wallet.

“We’re fine, Ellery,” Kyle interjects.

I put my hands up.  “No, it’s not a problem.”  My labored breathing is going to give me away.  I have to take control.  Can’t let the competition see me sweat.  “You know what?  I accidentally gave you my
personal
credit card.  Of course that’s not going to work.”  I glare at the woman behind the counter, daring her to contradict me.

“Are you sure, Vanessa?” Rory presses.  Reagan and Kyle watch, knowing damn well what it will mean if Rory thinks we’re having financial trouble.

I laugh it off, though.  That college elective drama class in is about to pay off.  “No, I’m serious.  I gave them my Visa. You think someone like me has that much credit?”  I make a big deal to laugh it off like it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Kyle flips open his wallet.  “Here, we’ll use my company card.”

I look down to see that it’s his personal MasterCard.  My eyes lift to his, no words need to be said as an understanding passes between us.

When Rory saunters off a bit too gleefully, I turn to Kyle.  I can’t resist laying my hands against his face.  “My hero.”

A smile curls the side of his mouth and his dimple pops.  “Pleased to be of service to you.”

“That was smooth, Vanessa,” Reagan says.  “I’m impressed.”

I watch Kyle sign the receipt. “Do you have two thousand bucks on there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle says.

I let out a frustrated sigh.  “Jiles will be pissed at me if this gets out.”

“He should’ve thought of that when he didn’t pay your AmEx bill,” Reagan snaps.

Kyle stuffs his credit card into his wallet.  “You were quick on your feet and no one’s the wiser.  Not even Ellery.”

“Kyle...I don’t know how to thank you.”

His jaw is stern and set.  “You handled yourself well in front of the competition.  You can bet Jiles will hear about this.”

We double-time it to the hotel to check out of our rooms.  Reagan pays for mine since my card obviously doesn’t work.  Rory and his co-workers are checking out and he and I share a smile across the lobby.  My emotions are mixed over him.  He’s such a fierce competitor as apparent moments ago, but I know there’s a softer side.  He’s only doing his job by looking for the company’s weaknesses.  I would have done the same thing if I had been in his position.

I want to at least say goodbye because I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.  How can I give him a proper sendoff with Ted, Reagan, and Kyle hanging out in the lobby?

Walking to where Rory stands in line, I whisper, “Meet me downstairs.”

I wait outside the ladies room on the bottom level where Rory quickly shows up.  “Everything straightened out with your charges?”

I shrug.  “Oh, yeah.  No big deal.  My mix-up.”  I take a deep breath.  “Listen, about last night, I—”

“Don’t think twice about it, Vanessa.  I understand.”  He looks around for a moment as if he’s searching for something.  “Well, this is it for a while for me as far as tradeshows go,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“No trips for a couple of months.  I do hope we can pick up where we left off.  Very soon.”  He advances and draws me to him.

His index finger lifts my chin and I glance up into those perilously blue eyes.  He lowers his head and places a sweet, short kiss on my forehead.  I’m not sure what it means.  It feels like goodbye.

“So no more tradeshows,” I manage to say through my emotional choke.

“I’m going to be swamped working on our product enhancements, so it’ll be hard to take phone calls, texts, or stay on top of e-mail.”

This feels like a brush off.  I know, I’ve been there before.

He lifts my face with his finger again.  “Maybe I’ll visit Boston when I’m done with the project.”

I smile at the notion.  “I’d like to show you my city.”

He places my hair behind my ear and plays with the silver earrings he gave me that dangle next to my neck.  “Hey, there’s another show here in San Francisco in November.”

“I know.  We’re coming to it.”

“I should be done with this project then.  Why don’t we say it’s a date?”

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, let alone months down the road.  I want him to remember me.  My pulse accelerates; anxiety courses through my veins.  I have to stop worrying about what will happen next while he’s still here.  There’ll be plenty of time for analysis on the flight home.  I close my eyes and take pleasure when Rory layers his lips over mine in a whisper of a kiss.

“Hey, Ellery, we’re getting ready to—”

Rory and I jump apart as Gene Cappucci stands there grinning at us.  I step back hastily and straighten my shirt.

“Sorry,” Gene says.  “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”  His dark eyes move from Rory to me as he scratches his bushy black mustache.

Rory steps away.  “No big deal.”

I must be six shades of crimson by now.

“Well, I’ve got to go.”  Rory follows Gene to the staircase, but stops and turns back to me.  “Take care of yourself, Vanessa.”

As I watch him walk away, there’s something inside me that tells me I’m never going to see him again.

T
wo weeks after
the San Francisco trip, Jiles Chancey’s panties are in a knot and the proverbial shit is hitting the fan.

“SalesWanker contacted one of our clients to pitch their new iPhone application,” he screams to the assembled group of sales, marketing, and client services people.

“They don’t have an iPhone app,” Ted counters, picking up his SmartPhone to start looking for it.

“They do now.”  Jiles’ face turns fiery red.  “It’s the quickest fucking product enhancement release in the history of software.”  He slams his hand down on the tabletop and coffee and pens go flying.

I wonder if this was the big project that Rory said he’d be working on.

Reagan drums her fingers.  “How could they have gotten it done so fast after our big splash in San Francisco?  There weren’t any SalesWanker people in our booth, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t send a client over to watch a demo.”

Ted speaks up.  “I gave out five disks at the show.  I have the signed license agreements from all of them, so we can track them down.”