Dangerous Pleasures (4 page)

Lizzie came by a few days before they were to leave. It was the weekend, and she had come out to Egret Pointe to help Phyllis, who couldn’t seem to decide what she wanted to take with her. “She’s driving me crazy. It’s Tuscany. It’s going to be August. What the hell is there to decide?” Lizzie grumbled.

Annie laughed. “She’s done nothing for the last month but talk about it,” she told her sister. “She’s so excited she hasn’t complained once about Dad and his golf.”

“I had forgotten what she’s like. I hope she doesn’t ride Nathaniel. I want this to be a wonderful trip for him,” Lizzie said. “His passport came, didn’t it?”

“It came,” Nathaniel said, joining them. “Ma, I was just on the computer. You’ve got an e-mail. It’s from someplace called the Spa, and it says you’ve won.”

“Junk mail probably. Delete it, sweetie.”

“No!”
Lizzie almost shrieked.

“It’s junk mail,” Annie repeated.

“I don’t think it is,” Lizzie told her sister.

“You ladies figure it out,” Nathaniel told them. “I’ve got to get to work.” He bent and kissed his mother’s cheek. “See you later.”

“Come on,” Lizzie said, dragging her sister into the den, where the computer was kept. Seating herself before the PC, she clicked the mouse on the message. “Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!” She gasped as she read it. “You’ve won, Annie! You’ve won the grand prize!” Then she sat back. “I can’t believe it. You’ve won!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I entered you in a contest,” Lizzie began. “Remember you told me you couldn’t afford any extras on your cable bill? Well, the Channel Corporation—they’re the people who own the Channel—are the ones renovating the old Gardener estate as a women’s spa. They were having a contest. The big prize was a week at the spa, all expenses paid. There were some smaller prizes, among them one hundred free subscriptions to the Channel for a year. I was trying to win one of those for you. But this e-mail says you’ve won the grand prize! Eight days, seven nights, and you’ve got a free year’s subscription to the Channel! I can’t believe it.”

“You entered me in a contest?”
Annie said.
“Why?”

“You need to live your fantasies,” Lizzie told her sister.

“I don’t have any fantasies,” Annie replied.

“Every woman has fantasies,” Lizzie answered softly. She took her sister’s hands in hers and looked into Annie’s pretty face. “Sis, Nat is gone. He isn’t coming back. It’s been two years. And in that time you’ve devoted yourself mind, body, and soul to the kids. You are a spectacular mom, but you’ve lost yourself in the process. The Channel lets you live your fantasies, mild or wild. It’s just for you. And you need something just for you. Trust me on this one, Annie.”

“I can’t accept this prize, Lizzie. It’s for the third week in August. Sure, the four older kids will be away, but what am I going to do with Wills? A spa vacation with a four-year-old? Not going to happen.” The phone rang, and Annie picked it up. “Hello? Oh, hi, Mavis. What? You’re kidding? When? Wills? He’d love it! Yes, of course I’ll let him go. I trust you and Ted. He’s going to be thrilled! Look, my sister’s here. Can we talk later? Okay. And thanks so much, Mavis. Bye.” Annie slowly set the telephone back in its cradle and turned to look at her sister. “Talk about spooky.”

“What is it?” Lizzie asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Mavis and Ted Iaonne have been planning a trip to Disney World in Orlando for a couple of months. Their little boy, Mark, is one of Wills’s friends. They were in nursery school together, and are starting kindergarten in September. They were taking their nephew, who’s two years older than Mark, with them. He fell out of a tree this afternoon and broke not one, but both of his legs. He’s not going anywhere. They want to take Wills with them.”

“What a great trip for Wills,” Lizzie said. “When?”

“That’s the spooky part,” Annie replied. “It’s the third week in August.”

“But that is perfect!” Lizzie enthused. “Now you can accept your prize, and I don’t know anyone in this world who deserves a week at a spa more than you do, sis!”

“What about this Channel of yours, though? It’s not for kids, is it?”

“Nope, only ladies,” Lizzie said. “Don’t worry about the kids gaining access to it. They give you a special remote. It’s programmed to your touch, and
only
your touch. Even if one of the kids got it, it wouldn’t work for them.”

“What do you fantasize about?” Annie asked her sister.

Lizzie laughed. “Extraordinarily kinky sex,” she said with a grin. “And sex in the Channel is guilt-free, disease-free, complication-free. I can be anything I want, and have any man I want. After a long day of being a tough bitch, it’s nice to come home, shower, and slip into the Channel for an evening of diversion.”

“I wonder why they’re opening a spa, and why here in Egret Pointe?” Annie considered. “There must be more exotic locations.”

“The Channel Corporation is a privately held company,” Lizzie said. “Egret Pointe may not be exotic, but it is charming and has an air of old-world exclusivity about it. The Gardener estate was falling apart. No one has lived up there for years. That quirky Grecian temple architecture isn’t for everyone, and the zoning isn’t for multiple houses. It was residential, but no one wanted to buy it because of all the zoning restrictions. The town board rezoned it for the Channel Corporation because they agreed to renovate and rebuild it. It’s called the Spa at Egret Pointe. I hear it’s absolutely gorgeous, and ultra-, ultraplush.”

“Just the place for a tired widow with five kids,” Annie said wryly.

“Hey, you won. That’s all that counts. Accept your prize and enjoy every minute of it. Get massaged, salt scrubbed, manicured, pedicured, and facialed to your heart’s content. They will feed you and cosset you to bits and pieces, and you deserve it!”

“I’ll bet they have aerobic classes for the already skinny ladies who live on mineral water and lettuce leaves,” Annie said with a chuckle.

“Who cares? Take a meditation class. Do a little tai chi,” Lizzie told her. “And you can feel totally superior knowing that you are much better off than all the other women there. So you’re widowed and have five kids, but you’re loved, and despite it all you are content with your life.”

“I suppose,” Annie replied.

“You aren’t content?” Lizzie was surprised. “What do you want then?”

“I’m a little bored with being the Widow Miller, and a lot bored with being held up all over town as a paragon of motherhood. I must be more than just that,” Annie said.

“Gee,” Lizzie said, “I always thought you were happy.”

“I was. I am. But my husband is gone. My oldest son is off to college in the fall. Three more years and Amy will be gone too. In ten years I’ll be down to one kid, in my mid-fifties, and when Wills is gone what’s left? I’m stuck in a big house in constant need of repairs. Alone. With no life.”

Lizzie shook her head. “I never thought of it that way,” she remarked.

“Of course you haven’t,” Annie answered. “You have a career, and you will always have a career if you want it. The law won’t leave you, but your kids do, and that’s the way it should be. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“You’ve got a college degree,” Lizzie said.

“In history,” Annie noted.

“You could teach,” Lizzie suggested.

“I’d have to go back to get teaching credits and to get certified,” Annie said. “Besides, I don’t want to teach.”

“You have work experience,” Lizzie replied. “When Wills is set in kindergarten get something part-time. People are always looking for help.”

“I worked in Dad’s insurance office for a year before Nat and I married,” Annie responded glumly. “I typed letters, sent out forms, and filed. I am barely computer literate, and only because Nat insisted. I’m not big on technology.”

“There has to be something you can do, and earn a living at the same time,” Lizzie insisted. “And now that you’ve started thinking about it, something is bound to come to you or just fall into your lap. It always happens that way.”

“How you can be such a tough litigator and believe in coincidence continues to astound me.” Annie laughed.

“You don’t have to make any decisions now,” Lizzie said. “Right now the only thing you have to do is decide what you are going to take to the spa.”

“What does one take to a spa?” Annie asked her sister. “I’m a spa virgin.”

“Did they suggest anything in the e-mail?” Lizzie queried.

“They said comfortable and casual clothing,” Annie replied.

“Okay, you’ll be there seven nights, so I’d say three pairs of nice slacks, five tops. You can mix and match. Maybe two pairs of sweatpants and a couple of tees. The usual amount of underwear, a few scarves to make the slacks seem a bit dressier at dinner, that great cornrow bracelet, and some of your turquoise earrings. Nightgown.”

“I wear pj’s now,” Annie said. “After our little Whoops it seemed less provocative, and it was always more difficult to get out of them for sex. It gave him time to put a condom on, instead of just pushing up my nightie and jumping aboard.” She grinned. “After Nat died I never switched back. Never saw any reason to do it.”

“Take a nightgown,” Lizzie said softly. “This spa experience is going to be a whole new beginning for you. Oh, better take a bathing suit or two. There’s a pool, and I’m sure they’ll have an aquacise class.”

“Me? In a bathing suit?” Annie laughed. “I don’t think I own one anymore.”

“Then we’ll go buy you a couple,” Lizzie told her older sister.

“I’ll look like a whale, and all that cellulite I’m sporting these days…” Annie groaned. “Don’t make me get a bathing suit. Please!”

“Exercising in the water is wonderful. I do two classes a week at my gym. There’s no strain on your muscles in the water. And it’s good for your heart,” Lizzie said briskly. “What size are you now?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Annie pleaded piteously.

Lizzie looked sternly at her sister. “Size, please!”

“Sixteen,” Annie admitted.

“You don’t look it,” Lizzie told her. “Get your credit card, sis! We’re off to the mall to buy you a bathing suit. They’ll all be on sale now. Oh, I just
love
sales!”

C
HAPTER
T
WO

“M
rs. Miller?” the smartly uniformed man at the door asked.

“Yes,” Annie replied.

“I’m Karl, your chauffeur from the spa. I’ll take your bag.” Picking it up with a smile, he waited while she locked the door, and then he ushered her to the standing white limousine, opening the door so she could get in. Then he put her bag in the trunk. “It will just be a few minutes,” he told her as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” Annie said. And then she sat back to enjoy her first taste of luxury. The vehicle was cool and dim. The leather seats were unbelievably soft. She was on her way, she thought as they pulled out of Parkway Drive. Had she forgotten anything? She didn’t think so. Dad knew where she was in case of emergency, and so did the camp. Wills was off with the Iaonnes. The lure of Disney World had proved too great to permit him any fear of being without his mother. Lizzie, Phyllis, and Nathaniel had called from their villa in Tuscany already. The flight had been perfect. The dog, the two cats, and the rabbit were at the vet for the week. No, she had not forgotten anything. Suddenly her time was her own, and Annie realized that she was really looking forward to it. She couldn’t wait to see what had been done to the old Gardener estate.

The limo glided along the shore road, and then swinging right toward the water, it stopped before a pair of decorative black iron gates flanked on one side by a gatehouse and on the other by a stone pillar to which was attached a bronze plaque with gold lettering that read
THE SPA AT EGRET POINTE
. Her driver honked once. A man emerged from the gatehouse, peered at the limo, then went to open the gates. Her car rolled past the gatekeeper, who tipped his cap to her politely as they passed.

The road wound down and around. There was lush old-growth greenery on both sides of it, obviously well cared-for, well trimmed. Someone must have been taking care of the estate grounds all these years, Annie thought. Maybe the man at the gate? And then they were pulling up before what looked like an ancient Greek temple. The limo came to a stop, and immediately a young man was opening the car’s door and handing her out of the limousine.

“Mrs. Miller, I’m Devyn, your PA as long as you are with us,” he said, smiling. He was of medium height, blue-eyed, blond, and obviously fit, by the look of the arms that protruded from beneath his short-sleeved shirt. He was wearing tight white slacks and a white tee. “Karl will take your luggage inside.”

“What’s a PA?” Annie asked.

“Personal assistant,” Devyn said with a grin.

“My God, just like a rock star.” Annie laughed. “What does a PA do, Devyn?”

“I do whatever you want me to do, ma’am,” he told her earnestly.

“Oh.” A few decidedly wicked thoughts, very un-Annie-like came to mind. Lizzie would definitely approve, she decided.

“If you’ll allow me to escort you inside, you’ll need to register, even if you are our grand-prize winner,” Devyn told her, and, his hand beneath her elbow, he led her into the Greek temple. “Ms. Buckley, who is currently overseeing the opening of the spa, is waiting to greet you. Actually she’s a bigwig with the Channel Corp., which is why I think they sent her to do this. The company really wants this to succeed.”

The lobby was both intimate and elegant. The carpeting was deep green, and so plush Annie thought she might sink up to her knees in it. The chairs and couches were in shades of ivory and green, both solids and stripes. An elegant stained-glass dome in the lobby’s low ceiling allowed natural light to flood the room. But there were also lamps set upon Brazilian rosewood tables too. Annie registered at the marble front desk.

“Welcome to the Spa, Mrs. Miller,” the girl at the desk said. She was pretty and perky, and dressed in a flattering pale rose-colored raw-silk blazer. “You are, as you can see, our very first guest. We hope your stay will be everything you wish it to be. Devyn has your keys, and he’ll get you to your suite,” she chirped.