Dangerous Pleasures (7 page)

“No, no,” Mr. Nicholas said. “We’re catering to women, and we want to get it right, my dear. As Nora has so cleverly put it, you are our everywoman.”

Annie laughed. “Believe it or not I find that flattering, although I’m not certain just how true it is. I do know, however, that when you’re stressed out, easing into a comfortable situation is nicer. You want to enjoy every moment of it.”

Mr. Nicholas set his drink down. “I must be going now,” he said. “This is, I know, to be a ladies’ evening, but I did want to meet you, my dear.” He took her hand, bowed in a very courtly manner, and kissed it again. “Good night, Annie.” Then, turning to Nora, he repeated his good-byes and, going to the apartment door, exited.

“What a charming man,” Annie said. “His accent, I couldn’t quite place it.”

“It has a slightly Brit quality to it,” Nora told her guest. “But actually I know very little about Mr. Nicholas, other than that he is a generous employer, and very understanding.”

“Dinner is served, madam,” the houseman said.

“It must be nice to work for someone like that. I worked only a year before Nat and I were married. In my father’s insurance office. It wasn’t very exciting, like running a spa must be,” Annie noted as she sat down at a small, perfectly set dining table.

“Actually, I run the Channel,” Nora told her guest, “but Mr. Nicholas wanted me to get the Spa up and running before I hired anyone for this venture.”

“My sister loves the Channel,” Annie said.

“Thousands of women do,” Nora replied. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“I haven’t got the money for frills. My husband was relatively young when he died. His insurance policy wasn’t particularly big. We get by. Just,” Annie explained.

“I know how that must be. When my husband was attempting to divorce me he cut me off entirely in his effort to force me to sign an agreement that would have been very much to my detriment, and that of our children,” Nora said.

“He died, didn’t he?” Annie remarked.

“Yes, poor Jeff,” Nora murmured. “The young girl he was dumping me for dumped him. He assaulted her and was arrested. Jeff never knew how to treat people. He fought with the police. With the judge arraigning him, the result was no bail. He died that night in the Egret Pointe jail of a cardiac, they said.”

“Were you divorced then?” Annie asked, unable to stem her curiosity.

“No,” Nora replied softly. “The children and I got everything.” Then she smiled. “As part of your prize you’ve won a free year of the Channel. Let’s enjoy our dinner, and then I’ll tell you all about it. You have it in your suite and should learn how to program and access it while you’re here.”

“I don’t really understand what the Channel is all about,” Annie admitted.

Nora smiled warmly. “Let’s have dinner first,” she repeated. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve ordered for us.”

As if on cue the silent houseman in the white jacket appeared from a small alcove, wheeling a serving trolley. Stopping it by the table, he lifted off two small plates with rounds of ripe, juicy tomatoes alternating with thin slices of fresh white mozzarella, and placed them before the two women. The salad, topped with fresh basil, was dressed with a subtle combination of oil and vinegar.

“Tomatoes are good only at this time of year,” Nora said as she began to eat.

When they had finished their salad, the houseman who had taken his trolley and disappeared after serving them returned again. The little vehicle made absolutely no noise as it came across the lush carpet. After taking the salad plates and putting them on the lower half of the trolley, the houseman lifted two steaming plates from the top shelf and set them before the diners. “Will that be all, madam?” he asked Nora.

“Thank you, Fritz. I’ll call when we’re ready for dessert,” she replied.

Each plate contained a generous slice of what looked very much to Annie like prime rib. She hadn’t eaten prime rib in ages, and her slice was barely cooked, just the way she liked it. There was a perfect ear of summer corn on the plate, along with a serving of French-cut green beans and several thin slices of yellow squash.

“You look as if you haven’t seen a good meal in ages,” Nora teased.

Annie shook her head. “I haven’t. You’ve cooked for kids. You know what it’s like. Burgers, spaghetti, baked ziti, chicken fingers. Getting veggies into them is a constant battle. They think French fries count. This plate is so beautifully arranged it’s almost a crime to touch it, but I’m afraid I’m shameless when it comes to rare beef.” And then Annie set about demolishing the food on her plate.

“This is the kind of meal we will serve you here at the Spa. Your sister filled out a page of your likes and dislikes. Everyone who books in will have to do that,” Nora explained. “We will personalize as much as we can for our guests. You need to lose a few pounds. We’ve set you up with a high-protein, good-carbs diet.”

“I noticed no bread,” Annie admitted.

“People tend to fill up on bread before a meal, and then, no matter how good the meal, they don’t finish it. Our proportions are perfect. You won’t feel hungry, but you also won’t eat too much. Hopefully when you see the changes we can make for you, you’ll feed yourself that way when you get back home,” Nora concluded.

Annie had to admit when she had finished her meat and vegetables that she was no longer hungry. And while she always enjoyed a good glass of red wine with beef, she hadn’t missed it. The Pellegrino water had been fine. She looked questioningly at Nora when the houseman removed their dinner plates, replacing them with small dessert-filled plates containing a meringue filled with raspberries and peaches.

“We use a sugar substitute in the meringues, and egg whites. Nothing more,” Nora explained.

“You ought to have a small shop here at the spa where guests can purchase things like these meringues, and the marvelous lotions that were used on me this afternoon,” Annie suggested. “And they could buy those great soft terry Spa robes you have in my suite. A shop could be a real moneymaker.” Then Annie laughed. “Listen to me, would you? It sounds just as if I know what I’m talking about.”

“You very well may,” Nora told her.

Annie shook her head. “I’m no businesswoman. A year typing and filing in my father’s insurance company is hardly experience. I’m a housewife, a mother.”

“That’s just what I once was,” Nora told her. “I didn’t even have a checking account in my own name. But Mr. Nicholas said he saw something in me, and he gave me the opportunity to try to be something different. By the way, keep it under your hat that I run the Channel. It’s not public information. I’d be besieged by every woman in the world if it were known.” She smiled warmly again.

They finished their desserts along with cups of pale green tea, and then, leaving the table, they sat together watching an August moon rise over the bay. Annie realized that she hadn’t felt this relaxed, this genuinely comfortable, in ages. Obviously the Spa was working its magic on her.

“Let me tell you about the Channel,” Nora said. “At least, what I can tell you.”

“What do you mean?” Annie looked curious.

“Well, even I can’t tell you exactly how it works,” Nora began, “but it does.”

“But what exactly is it?” Annie wanted to know.

“Well,” Nora said, “I suppose the best way to describe it is to tell you that it is only available for and to women. You can obtain it through your local cable company. We provide you with a special remote. The Channel can’t be accessed by your own television’s remote, so you never have to worry about your children getting into it. And your special remote is sensitive to your skin and your touch only, so if any of the kids got ahold of it, it wouldn’t work for them.”

“Parental controls.” Annie chuckled. “I like that! Okay, I’ve got access to the Channel, and I’ve got the remote. Now what?”

“Well,” Nora said, “then, holding the remote, you think of your wildest or most dearly held fantasy, and press the A button. Turn on your television and that fantasy will be there waiting for you, and before you realize what has happened you will find yourself in the middle of that fantasy, actually living it.”

“You’re joking, of course,” Annie said skeptically.

“No,” Nora told her, “I’m not joking. Back when I was first introduced to the Channel there was only the remote. My friends couldn’t say exactly what the Channel was. No one can. I called the cable company and ordered it for the evening, like you would order pay-per-view. I couldn’t believe what happened to me next. There was my fantasy. I was there, and living it not with my son-of-a-bitch husband, but with a sexy man who thought I was terrific. But I’ve had several changes instituted since I became head of the Channel,” Nora said. “Now you can program two fantasies at a time, and live whichever suits you that evening. And you can get a yearly subscription to the Channel, too. This is a tough world in which we women now live, and we deserve a little fun. The Channel is our dirty little secret, Annie. You will love it, I promise you, but you won’t believe any of this until you’ve tried it,” Nora concluded.

There was a soft knock on the apartment door, and the silent Fritz hurried to answer it, opening the portal to admit Mr. Nicholas.

“I’ve come to escort you back to your suite,” he said, smiling. “Have you explained everything to her, Nora?”

“Everything except that the Channel is online from eight p.m. until four a.m. When it’s time to release your fantasy for the evening you’ll hear a chime giving you a two-minute warning,” Nora said. “Have fun!”

“What are your fantasies?” Annie asked Nora boldly, and Mr. Nicholas chuckled.

“My beautiful apartment, and a Caribbean island where I play pirate with a girlfriend of mine,” Nora said with a grin.

Mr. Nicholas took Annie’s hand and tucked it in his arm. “Come along, my dear,” he said. “Nora, I will want to speak to you before you retire.”

“Thank you for dinner,” Annie said as he led her from the room and back to her own suite. “Nora didn’t say where my personal remote is, Mr. Nicholas.”

“You’ll find it by your bed, but it will work on either the screen there or in your living room,” he answered her. “Good night now, my dear.” He bowed and was gone.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

A
nnie shut the suite door. It couldn’t be true, she thought. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try it, and, going into the bedroom, she reached for the remote by her bed. Then, putting it down, she undressed slowly, took a quick shower, and put on the elegant nightgown she had bought at Lacy Nothings just for her spa stay. Fashioned of pale green silk and delicate lace, it fit her like a glove. It had cost a week’s worth of groceries, but then, no one was at home this week, she thought, soothing her conscience. You couldn’t come to an elegant place like the Spa with a worn pink cotton sleep shirt, could you? Of course not, she reasoned.

The king-sized bed had been turned down. There was a single dark-chocolate mint on one of the pillows. Annie climbed into the bed. Beneath her the feather bed shifted gently. Half seated against the pile of pillows, she drew up the down comforter and reached for the remote on her night table. There were three buttons on it. One said,
OPEN
/
CLOSE
. The other two were marked
A
and
B
. Pressing
OPEN
/
CLOSE
saw the wall opposite her bed open to reveal what appeared to be a flat-screen television. She had briefly read the suite’s instructions earlier with regard to the lights. Now she tried it. “Lights off,” she said, and immediately the bedroom darkened. Now, that was really cool, she thought. Maybe her electric bill at home wouldn’t be so high if she and the kids could do that, she thought, smiling.

Her mind now turned again to the remote in her hand. A fantasy. She had to think of a fantasy. Had she ever had a fantasy? Her father was a practical man. Her mother was a no-nonsense type. They had been good parents to her and to Lizzie, but she couldn’t ever remember a time when they had played pretend with their children, or even encouraged their imaginations. They had encouraged learning. And they had taught manners and ethics. But they had discouraged both of their daughters from anything that smacked of fancy. Annie had grown up knowing her future was already mapped out for her. She would be a wife and a mother, because that was what respectable women became.

Lizzie, on the other hand, being younger, had broken the mold when she turned around after college and got into law school. She hadn’t even told their parents she was applying, but, Annie thought, Lizzie’s summer adventures should have given them some hint that Lizzie would not follow the prescribed plan. However, their mother was too busy planning Annie’s engagement party. And there was a wedding date to set, a trousseau to be assembled, a wedding dress and bridesmaids’ gowns to find, a reception to plan. And Dad smiled benignly, went to his office, and wrote the checks required of him. No one was paying a bit of attention to Lizzie.

Sometimes,
Annie thought as she sat in her luxurious bed,
I wish I had been that focused, but I didn’t know what I wanted to be, and I loved Nat
. A fantasy. She had to think of a fantasy. She remembered her grandmother Mumford, her mother’s mother, reading fairy tales to her when she was younger. She had a wonderful big, thick book with beautiful old-fashioned colored pictures in it. Grandmother had died when Annie was sixteen. Annie and Lizzie had helped clean out the old woman’s house. Annie had found the book and kept it to read to her own children one day, which she had done now and again. Were any of the fairy tales in that book fantasies worth living? If indeed this Channel thing were actually real. But Lizzie said it was, and Lizzie wasn’t a woman to lie.

Cinderella? No. She had already had her happily-ever-after with her prince. Rapunzel? Nah. Who wanted to sit around in a tower all day combing her long golden hair? Definitely not Sleeping Beauty! Snow White? Annie had always thought there was something creepy about that girl and seven little men. And then she remembered her favorite of the fairy tales her grandmother used to read to them. It was “Beauty and the Beast.” There was something lovely about a girl who loved her parent enough to sacrifice herself—and a love so great that it could overcome evil. It might be fun to be that girl. Why not? Annie pressed the A button.