Authors: Julie Blair
“Sounds good.”
Jamie pulled into her driveway and let the song end as she stared at the dark house. She hated the sterile lawn and shrubs. Maybe Carla could help her—No, of course not. Should she be friends with her? Wasn’t it dishonest to Sheryl?
Tossing her keys on the counter she went to the living room and poured a tumbler of Wild Turkey, her new drink of choice, not bothering to turn on lights. The house felt less lonely if she couldn’t see the emptiness. She smelled Carla’s perfume on her shirt as she unbuttoned it and realized she’d forgotten the flowers. Sadness stopped her fingers. She wanted those roses. She undressed and got a towel from the bathroom.
Setting the tumbler on the edge of the hot tub she lowered herself into the water and put the jets on high. She took a long swallow. The whiskey burned down her throat but landed softly in her stomach. Why shouldn’t she and Carla be friends? Sheryl had friends Jamie had never met.
Jamie climbed out of the hot tub, irritated at Sheryl’s absence. She marched to the pool and dove to the bottom. The cold took her breath away, and she surfaced sputtering. Breaking into freestyle strokes, she swam until her arms felt like lead sticks.
Jamie showered and put on sweats and a light-blue sweater Sheryl always said looked good on her. She cupped her breasts through the soft chenille fabric and pinched her nipples. She wanted Sheryl’s mouth on her. Sitting against the headboard she tried to focus on the book. Every time she heard a car she willed it to be Sheryl. She yawned and turned another page. Maybe she and Carla could trade books.
Jamie stirred from sleep and then closed her eyes against the glare of the bedside light. Checking the clock, she was surprised it was after midnight. She was alone. Wasn’t Sheryl home yet? She went to the kitchen and found her purse on the counter. The guest room again. Anger gripped her as she marched down the hall, the hardwood floor cold under her feet.
“Sheryl.” Jamie sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook Sheryl. She lifted the book from her chest—
Ten Tips for Getting the Promotion You Deserve
. Sheryl opened her eyes. “Come to bed.”
Sheryl tugged the sheets up to her chin. “You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“No more guest room.” She pulled the covers back. “I want to be close to you.”
“Jamie…” Sheryl yawned.
Jamie pulled Sheryl to her feet, wrapped her arms around her, and kissed her. She found Sheryl’s breast and rubbed her palm against it. They needed this. Sheryl’s nipple responded and she deepened the kiss. They needed to stay close.
“Jamie—”
“I want to make love to you.” She explored Sheryl’s mouth as she caressed her breast. Pulling her mouth from Sheryl’s she took her hand and led Sheryl back to their bedroom in silence. Lowering her to the bed she began to unbutton the chocolate-brown pajamas, kissing along the exposed skin.
“Jamie, slow down—”
“No. Everything about us is too slow.”
“Have you been talking to—”
“I haven’t been talking to anyone.” Jamie lifted her head and looked into Sheryl’s eyes. She wanted to see in them the same desire that was heating up her center. “I want you.” She took Sheryl’s mouth before she could protest, slid her tongue in, coaxing, waiting. Finally Sheryl moaned and explored her mouth.
Yes, more.
Sheryl was warm, and tasted minty, and smelled of the perfume Jamie loved at the moment, and Jamie wanted to devour all of her.
She slid her hand inside the pajamas, down Sheryl’s side and then up her stomach to her breast. She squeezed it in rhythm with Sheryl’s tongue. Sheryl wrapped her arms around Jamie’s shoulder, and that’s all the encouragement Jamie needed. She straddled Sheryl’s thigh to give her clit the pressure it needed as she deepened the kiss and teased around the edge of Sheryl’s nipple.
Sheryl spread her legs, and Jamie slid her hand inside the pajamas. She wanted Sheryl to press against her fingers, to coat them with wetness. “Come for me,” she whispered, as she buried her fingers in Sheryl, stroking deep as she rubbed her clit against Sheryl’s thigh, holding back, waiting for Sheryl. Sheryl moaned against her cheek and clenched around her fingers, and Jamie let herself come with a long moan. She lay on top of Sheryl, spent, breathing heavy, kissing her neck. Sheryl shifted under her.
“I have to be in early.” Sheryl kissed her cheek. “I love you. Let’s get some sleep.”
Jamie rolled onto her back and a shiver ran through her. She clutched Sheryl’s hand. She was with Sheryl in their bed. They’d made love. It would be all right. She closed her eyes but sleep wouldn’t come.
Jamie sat at the dining table and sipped her coffee, trying to focus on the newspaper. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the dinner with Carla and Mike. They seemed so committed to each other. She and Sheryl had once been like that—a team, rooting for each other, planning and dreaming about their future. Now it felt like they were on parallel paths that seldom touched. She had to get this business mess sorted out.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
Jamie lifted her face for a kiss. When Sheryl pecked her cheek, Jamie pulled her onto her lap, and before Sheryl complained about wrinkling her suit or messing up her hair, Jamie cupped the back of her head and kissed her slow and deep. She could get used to the new perfume. She broke the kiss and cleaned a smudge of lipstick from Sheryl’s cheek with her thumb. “You look nice.”
“Like I belong in the district office?” Sheryl’s eyes gleamed. Jamie wanted to think it was from making love last night.
“Like a kick-ass director of curriculum.”
“I’m so close.” Sheryl stood and straightened her navy-blue suit. “The superintendent called yesterday to ask my advice on a situation at another high school. I hope I said the right thing.”
“Is kissing up to him really what you want to do?”
“You do what you have to to get what you want.”
“Isn’t it kind of dishonest?”
Sheryl patted her shoulder. “No. It’s what grown-ups do. You’re in such a bubble with your business—no politics, no compromising, everything the way you want it.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re going to have your business problem solved soon, right?” Sheryl rubbed her hands over Jamie’s shoulders.
“Yes.” Thanks to the office manager she couldn’t tell Sheryl about. Was this one of those compromises? “Let’s make reservations for our anniversary vacation.” Sheryl’s hands left her shoulders.
“Let’s wait.”
“Can’t you compromise with us like you do at work?”
“What do you think last night was? I wanted to sleep. You wanted to make love.”
A cold shiver spread through Jamie, and she shoved her hands in the pouch pocket of her sweatshirt and clasped them. That was a compromise? “I needed us to be close.” Jamie looked up at Sheryl, searching her face for a sign she felt the same.
“And we were.” Sheryl kissed her cheek. “Now I need to go get that promotion. I’ll be late tonight.”
Jamie watched her walk away. “Those heels aren’t the best for your back.”
“Always the chiropractor, aren’t you? Shoes are about fashion.” Sheryl wiggled her fingers as she closed the door.
*
Jamie’s office chair creaked as she leaned back in it and stared at the picture of her father. He would never have done something like hide the identity of his office manager from her mom. But he’d also tell Jamie to do what was best for the business. Compromises. She heard the back door open and was on her feet before Carla appeared in the doorway. Her pulse jumped with nervousness and she laughed at her silliness. This wasn’t the morning after.
“You forgot these last night.” Carla set the vase of flowers on Jamie’s desk.
“Thanks.” Jamie’s throat tightened with emotion that made no sense. Why were these flowers so important? She stood and stuck her nose in the bouquet. Just as fragrant as she remembered. Yesterday rushed back—telling Carla the truth about that night, Carla in her arms. She pulled her head from the bouquet. Today they were on the other side of it. Friends. “You look like your garden.” Yellow sweater and pink blouse, and a necklace of colorful beads.
“I hope you mean colorful rather than in need of pruning.”
“Thank you for reading my mind.”
“It’s not hard.” Carla closed her eyes and touched her temple. “You’re thinking you need a fresh cup of coffee.”
Jamie handed her the mug, and for a second they both held it. “You’re not wearing your ring.”
Carla looked at her hand and lifted her finger from the mug. The skin was lighter where it had been. Her nails had the same tasteful French manicure they always did. “I was going to keep wearing it until we talk to Lissa, but…”
“If I can help…” Carla looked like she needed a hug but it probably wasn’t a good idea. “How’s your back?”
“Stiff when I got up, but I didn’t have to crawl to the bathroom. You have no idea how grateful I am.”
“I’m glad I could take care of you. And thank you for dinner. It was…”
“Strange?” Carla’s eyes sparkled with humor.
“Yeah. But fun. I like your hus…um, Mike.” Carla smiled and Jamie let it lift her spirits. “I’m glad we’re going to be friends.”
“Me, too. I’ll get us coffee and then we can go over some things.”
“I want to adjust you first.” Jamie followed Carla out the door. She liked the subtle sweetness of her perfume.
*
“Thanks, Dr. Hammond. I can already move my neck better.”
“Easy. Don’t undo what I just fixed,” Jamie said to the energetic young contractor she’d been treating for several years. She handed his file over the front counter to Carla.
“We’ll see all of you in a couple weeks for your family tune-up,” Carla said. “Tell your wife I have that cheesecake recipe she wanted.”
Jamie stared at Carla. This was one of those moments she couldn’t believe the shy woman she’d met twenty years ago had matured into someone with Carla’s confidence and ease with people. She’ll have no trouble finding a girlfriend. No trouble at all. “What?” Jamie realized Carla was talking to her.
“Your next appointment called to say he’s running late.”
“Looks like I’ve got a minute. Let’s put it to good use and let me check your back again. Is it my imagination,” Jamie asked as they walked down the hall, “or are my lunch hours getting longer?”
“They’re just not getting interrupted.”
“And what’s happening to all those patients that aren’t interrupting my lunch?” Jamie held the door to the treatment room open.
“They’re filling Sara and Don’s schedules,” Carla said as if it were obvious.
“And when were you going to run this past me?” Jamie tried to sound stern, but it was hard with Carla standing so close, trying to look tough with her arms folded and her lips pursed. Those eyes gave her away—they couldn’t look hard if she tried.
“Today. See, I’m right on schedule.”
“On the table,” Jamie said, shaking her head.
“If you insist on going through patient files during your lunch, you need the whole hour, and you need to eat, too.”
Carla’s back was cool. She’d iced it recently. Carla was following her instructions. Maybe she should follow hers. “Okay.”
“And it’s ridiculous that you work such long hours. Dr. Rose worked four days a week when I started and was down to three before he got sick.”
“I said okay.”
“You did?” Carla lifted her head, a surprised expression on her face. “Well, good.”
Jamie set the drop table and did an adjustment. “You’ll be fine by the weekend.” Jamie watched Carla get off the table unassisted, pleased she was better. Opening the door she noticed her receptionist hurrying towards her.
“Dr. Hammond, it’s Lucy Marsh. She was just in a car accident. There aren’t any openings this morning. Should I schedule her during your lunch?”
Jamie held Carla’s gaze as she said, “No.”
“How about if I talk to her and see what we can work out?” Carla smiled and squeezed Jamie’s arm before heading to the front.
Her father had always taken Mary’s advice and they’d been a seamless team. Maybe she could have that with Carla.
*
Carla signed the form for the driver and kissed the white FedEx envelopes as she hurried to Jamie’s office. “I have a surprise for—” Jamie was sitting at her desk with tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Carla set the envelopes on the desk and touched Jamie’s shoulder.
“Sylvia has breast cancer. I’ve treated her since…in fact, my father treated her. I feel so helpless.”
“I’m so sorry, Jamie.” Stepping behind her, Carla massaged her shoulders. The freedom to touch her was a guilty pleasure. “How about if I have flowers sent to her home tomorrow?”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Finally Jamie opened her eyes. “What’s this?” She picked up one of the FedEx envelopes.
“Open it.”
Jamie worked the flap open, pulled out a large stack of EOBs, and leafed through them. She looked up at Carla, a frown on her face. “How did you get these?”
Carla gave Jamie’s shoulder one last squeeze. “Persistence and a little Southern charm.” She infused a bit of that charm into her voice. Jamie looked up at her, and her eyes sparked for an instant with something more than gratitude. Carla’s pulse responded as if they were alone in a bedroom, not Jamie’s office. She stepped away and sat in the chair across from her, crossing her legs.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” A collage of emotions passed over Jamie’s face. “Do you know how hard I’ve been trying to get these?”
“It’s my job.” Jamie’s smile was so full of gratitude Carla had to look away or her heart would hijack common sense again. It’s just business, she reminded herself. “I assume you want to start comparing these with our records, and I thought I’d stay and help. I can pull files while you relax for a few minutes.”
“You don’t have to.” Jamie was opening one of the other envelopes.
“Hmm…staying here and helping you or going home to a messy house. Unless you need to leave.” She wasn’t ready to ask about Jamie’s partner. She never mentioned her, and that made it easy to ignore.
“No. These are my first priority.” Jamie held up the EOBs.
“I thought I’d get dinner for us.” Carla stood and fiddled with the bouquet on the desk.