Tropical Storm - DK1 (41 page)

Read Tropical Storm - DK1 Online

Authors: Melissa Good

Tags: #Lesbian, #Romance

“You walk straight, you don’t slur your words, and you haven’t kissed any of the wandering characters.”

Dar considered that. “That’s true.” She jumped a little when her cell phone rang, then let out a short laugh and reached for it. “Yes?”

“You owe me a picture, Big D.” Mark’s voice sounded very, very satisfied. “Did you get to see a firework or two?”

Dar turned around and walked backwards, watching the lasers bounce off the huge geosphere. “Yeah, I got to see one or two.” She straightened back up. “Good work. Can you set up the link for tomorrow morning? I’ll need to dial in via the cell.”

“Already done. Where’s my picture?” Mark nudged. “You don’t know what an inspiration that was, I did things tonight the likes of which Babbage never imagined.”

“All right, all right.” Dar laughed helplessly. “I’ll have Kerry take one, okay? Tomorrow.”

“She there? Put her on,” Mark requested. “Hey, Kerry?”

“Right here.” She covered her other ear with one hand.

“Did you actually manage to get her out of the damn hotel for an hour?”

the MIS chief whispered.

Tropical Storm
197

Kerry glanced over to where Dar had climbed over a railing and was inspecting a bush cut in the shape of Figment the Imagination dragon. “Oh yeah. In fact, I got her to go to one of the parks tonight.”

“You rock!” he praised. “Damn woman hasn’t had a vacation in ten years.” He sighed. “You having fun?”

“It’s been…” Kerry smiled to herself, “…very educational. I’ve learned a lot, and I hope things work out for the bid. This is a very interesting account.”

“Ain’t what I asked,” Mark chided.

“Yes, we’re having fun. Thanks for asking.” She looked up to find Dar watching her, the dark-haired woman’s body relaxed against the railing.

“Whoops, gotta go. Talk to you later, Mark.”

They walked off toward the shuttle stop, amiably bumping shoulders as they maneuvered through the thinning crowds.

SHE WAS YAWNING by the time they got back to the hotel, their monorail depositing them neatly in the lobby. Like a puppy, Kerry followed Dar to the elevator, resisting the impulse to latch onto the back of her shirt to keep up, and she had to take a minute to blink her eyes clear before she could open her room door. It was quiet and mostly dark inside, and she really wanted nothing more than to curl up in her already turned-down bed, dressed as she was, and just conk out. Instead, she changed into her nightshirt, wincing where the pink skin around her bathing suit marks stung, then she turned and noticed her message light flashing. Perplexed, she lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk. “Hello? Yes, I have a message?”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Stuart,” the voice on the phone answered promptly. “It’s from a Colleen. She said it was urgent, and could you please call her.”

Urgent?
“Okay, thanks very much.” Kerry depressed the receiver, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong back in Miami.
Another flood
in the complex?
She hoped it wasn’t the plumbing again, at any rate.

She dialed her friend’s number, and waited until the sleepy voice on the other end answered. “Col?”

Colleen woke up instantly. “Jesus son of Mary, Kerry, where in the Hell are you? Your parents are going insane. They’ve called here three times!”

My parents?
“Um.” Kerry rubbed her head at the unexpected source of the panic. “I’m in Orlando, as you should know. What’s the big deal?”

Silence from the other end of the line preceded a deep breath. “You haven’t heard?”

“Haven’t heard what? No, I’ve been in meetings all day, and then… What is it?” Kerry asked. “Someone shoot the president or something?”

“Jesus Christ, Kerry, the plane you were supposed to be on tonight crashed in the Everglades. Pretty much everyone on it died, they think,”

Colleen answered. “The only reason I didn’t go nuts is the hotel said you hadn’t checked out and I know you’re not a skip.”

Kerry sat down on the bed, her legs suddenly unable to hold her up. “Oh my God.” She lifted a shaking hand to her mouth. “I’d better call my parents.”

“Then call me back, okay?” Colleen said softly.

“Okay, I will.” Kerry hung up, then rested her hand on the receiver for a 198
Melissa Good
long moment before she picked it up again and dialed. “Mom?” Her mother’s voice practically jumped out of the phone at her. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m fine.

I’m still in Orlando. The meeting went on longer than we thought, so we’re staying over another night … No, no, not at all. The office knew I wasn’t on the flight.” A pause. “You could have called the … hello, Father.”

Roger Stuart’s voice thundered down the line. “That’s it. No daughter of mine is living down where terrorists can just bomb an airplane. That place has too few Americans in it, God damn it. You’re coming home.”

“Are you sure it was a terrorist? I didn’t hear any details. I don’t…” Kerry felt a sudden jolt in her guts at the thought of leaving Miami and Dar.

“Nothing happened, we weren’t on the flight!”

Her father cut off further objections. “No ifs, ands, or buts, Kerrison.

That’s final. Could you imagine the press if you’d been on that plane? My God! Make the arrangements.”

The line went dead. Kerry slowly put it back down on the cradle and stared at it. “Glad I wasn’t on the plane too, thanks for asking.” A noise made her look up to see Dar standing in the adjoining doorway, a quietly grim look on her face. “I guess you heard.”

Dar nodded, then entered, crossing the room and sitting down next to her on the bed. A remote control was clasped loosely in the executive’s hands. “I have the news on in there.” She looked at Kerry intently. “Are you all right?”

“Oh yeah,” Kerry answered bitterly. “My father was so damned relieved he wouldn’t have to spin-doctor my death.” She leaned her elbows on her knees and looked down at the carpet. “They want me to leave Miami and go home.”

Dar hesitated, then awkwardly put one arm around her companion’s shoulders. “Because a plane crashed? That makes no sense, Kerry.”

“Because Miami’s full of degenerates, perverts, and foreigners who do nothing but plot against the US,” Kerry answered with a sigh. “Do they know what made the plane go down? He said it was a terrorist. Is that true?”

“Didn’t stick around there long enough to find out. C’mon, let’s go into the other room and watch the news. Maybe they’ll say.” Dar hesitated. “Sorry about all this.”

Kerry looked up, grateful for the warmth of Dar’s arm around her. “We would have been on that plane.”

“I know,” the older woman replied calmly. “But we weren’t. C’mon, I ordered up some hot chocolate. Let’s go see what happened.”

They settled on Dar’s bed, and she turned the volume up on the television, which was tuned to CNN. The picture was mostly dark, with flashing blue and red lights everywhere, and the occasional flare of yellow.

The reporter wore a windbreaker, and it was obviously raining and windy where he was. “As of this moment, the FAA is not commenting or speculating on what brought down this Boeing 727, only that the pilot reported problems over West Palm Beach and decided to swing west, away from populated areas.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bomb,” Dar commented, getting up to answer a light knock on the door. “Nice service.” She opened it and allowed the room service waiter in with a tray. “Put it over there.” The waiter left, and she
Tropical Storm
199

poured two steaming cupfuls of the chocolate, adding a tiny mini-marshmallow to each cup and bringing one over to Kerry. “Here you go, good for what ails you.”

Kerry took a sip and managed a smile. “Thanks.” She turned her attention to the television, where searchlights were showing what looked like hundreds of men in various uniforms up to their thighs in water, moving debris and other things around. “It looks horrible.”

“Mmm.” Dar exhaled, then picked up the phone and dialed a number.

“It’s Dar.” She paused, listening. “What’s the story on that plane that went down?” Another pause. “Well, maybe not, but I was supposed to be on it.”

She sighed. “I don’t think so either, but I’d like to be sure. Thanks, Gerry.” She hung up. “Let’s see if we can get some real info.”

“Who was that?” Kerry asked, feeling her spirits rebounding a little. “Or is it one of those—‘if you tell me, you have to kill me’ kind of things?”

“Friend of mine at the Pentagon,” Dar replied. “God, look at that…”

The overhead helicopter shot showed a chaotic mess of fires, lights, and movement on the screen, then suddenly, people started yelling and raising their hands up. The reporter paused and listened to his earpiece, then smiled at the camera. “I’ve just been told they’ve started to find some survivors. It appears as if the plane broke up upon landing in the Everglades, and some people, I repeat, some people have survived.”

“Wasn’t a bomb, then,” Dar commented. “That disintegrates in the air and doesn’t leave much in the way of live humans.” She leaned back against the headboard and stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankles. Kerry was sitting cross-legged on the other side of the bed, cupping her chocolate in both hands.

They watched as first a few, then more injured people were brought out, and helicopters started landing, ready to transport the victims. Kerry finally slid back until she was leaning against the backboard too, wincing as she rubbed her neck, stiff from sitting hunched over for so long.

Dar turned out the lights, leaving just the television on as she stretched her legs out next to Kerry’s. “You doing all right?”

Kerry let her head rest against the padded wood. “I don’t know,” she answered after a pause. “I didn’t think they were keeping that close a watch on me. Jesus! I never even told them I was going to Orlando.”

Dar sipped her chocolate thoughtfully. “Remind me to have Maria mask your travel next time,” she said. “What in the hell do they think they’re doing, anyway? You’re a grown woman.” She frowned, turning to look at Kerry.

“They think they own you?”

Kerry’s lashes fluttered in the bluish light from the television. “It’s hard to explain,” she murmured. “I don’t think you’d understand if I…”

“Damn straight I don’t understand,” Dar replied bluntly. “My parents never agreed with pretty much a damn thing I did, but they never denied me the right to be whatever I wanted to be,” she said. “And they sure never followed me around.”

Kerry turned to face her. “Well, that’s why I left.” She felt a bit embarrassed, and sensed in a way she’d been diminished in Dar’s eyes, somehow. “I wanted to get away from all that.”

200
Melissa Good

“Seems like they don’t want to let go,” Dar said.

“Seems like,” Kerry admitted. “They are my family.”

Dar looked away, out the window for a few seconds. “In that case, glad I don’t have one.”

Kerry felt a jumble of emotions stir inside her. Fear, chiefly—rooted in the knowledge of how fragile her freedom seemed sometimes—and shame that she could sit here feeling like that next to Dar, who was so proudly independent. “They, um…” She curled her hands around the cup of hot chocolate, glad of its warmth on her suddenly chilled skin. “They think they’re doing what’s best for me. I guess.”

Her companion glanced at her. “You really buy that?”

Do I?
“I think they buy it,” Kerry admitted softly. “I’ve got different plans for my life.”

“Good.” Dar patted her hand, then went back to reviewing the screen.

The low murmur of the television settled between them as they watched in silence for a while, the images flitting on and off the screen. But Kerry found herself unable to focus on them, and she blinked a few times as the cool air in the room stung her eyes. A warmth against her shoulder almost made her jump, until she realized it was Dar’s arm, as the dark-haired woman shifted slightly and lifted her cup up to her lips, the motion apparently not a deliberate one. Kerry appreciated it nonetheless and she relaxed a little bit, silently acknowledging the long day, the sun, the unexpected crisis, and the several ales that were playing havoc with her emotions. She exhaled softly.

After another moment’s silence, Dar turned and looked at her, one brow lifting in question. “Long day,” Kerry said. “I think I should go get some sleep.”

“Good idea.” Dar set her cup down, then reached over and took Kerry’s from her. “We’ve got a presentation to do.” She picked up the television remote and clicked it off, plunging the room into unexpected darkness.

“Oh.” Kerry had been in the process of persuading her body to move from the comfortable surface. “Hey, give me a chance to find my way out of here.”

“Bed’s big enough for the entire board of directors.” Dar’s voice floated over to her. “You can stay where you are.”

Kerry’s vision adjusted, and she could see the dark square that would lead her into her own room. She was so tired, though, that even the thought of moving made her eyes close, and she didn’t protest as Dar pulled the covers up over them both.
Oh well.
She caught a hint of warm skin and clean cotton, and sleep took her before she could absorb the tingle the knowledge brought her.

Dar regarded her companion, who was curled onto her side, her breathing already evening out into sleep. She let her arm rest on the bed near her bedmate, and after a few minutes, glanced up at a touch. Fingers were curled around her forearm. Dar looked at her companion closely, saw the steady, even breathing, and realized she was deeply asleep. An unconscious motion, then, Kerry reaching out to her instinctively, desiring the comfort of a touch she’d never presume while awake.

Dar put her head down on her pillow and looked up at the dimly seen
Tropical Storm
201

ceiling. She felt off-balance and thought maybe all those mugs had been a few too many after all.
What am I thinking, sharing my room, sharing my bed with
Kerry? Sure, we’re becoming friends, and yeah, we had fun, and sure, I tossed off a
client to go spend time with her, but…

A soft rustle attracted her attention, and she turned her head as Kerry stirred, shifting a little closer and moving her grip, her fingers slipping along Dar’s skin in a wonderfully warm sensation. It felt really nice. Kerry was smiling, just a little, in her sleep, and Dar smiled back, gazing at the smaller woman with quiet affection.

Other books

The Summer the World Ended by Matthew S. Cox
Deep Surrendering: Episode Eleven by Chelsea M. Cameron
Witch's Canyon by Jeff Mariotte
The Three Sirens by Irving Wallace
Saving Danny by Cathy Glass
Rage of a Demon King by Raymond E. Feist