Talking About Sex.... Vicki Thompson Lewis
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“First we’re going to order dinner and another margarita,” she said. “And then you’re going to tell me what really happened.”
“I told you what happened!”
“Yeah, right. First we order, then you spill.” Cheryl motioned the waiter over and they each chose a taco salad to go with the second margarita.
“Okay, you can begin anytime,” Cheryl said after the waiter left. For once she didn’t elaborate on that thought or spin off onto a million other somewhat related topics. Instead she sat looking at Katie with that same tiny smile, waiting.
They’d been friends for a long time, and Katie knew that Cheryl would get the truth eventually. She always did. Most of the time she talked a blue streak, which was her natural state, but once in a while, like now, she could create a silence so welcoming, so in need of being filled, that a person felt obliged to confess all. That tactic had also served Cheryl well in the courtroom.
“I’m…” Katie drained her margarita glass and set it down on the glass table with a solid click. Between Cheryl’s open invitation to tell all and the tequila fogging her brain, Katie couldn’t hold her tongue. “I’m still into him, Cher.”
“I know.”
Katie sighed. “I figured you would. So when he showed up, I was all quivery, like I used to get in high school. I didn’t want Ava to hear what we said, so I brought him into the conference room and closed the door.” The memory of that got her hot all over again.
“Who made the first move?”
“He did. He…kissed me.” She tried to breathe normally, but telling Cheryl made her relive the moment when his lips had crushed hers, and all the powerful emotions created by that contact came rushing back.
“I take it you didn’t run screaming out of the room. No, you don’t have to tell me how you responded. I can see it in your eyes.”
Katie groaned and covered her face with both hands. “I’m sure he could see it, too.” She lifted her head and looked at Cheryl. “But he did the same damned thing as prom night! Got me going and then walked out the door, saying it wasn’t the place!”
“Well, it wasn’t! You could get fired for a stunt like that!”
“I know, but I wish I’d been the one to call a halt instead of him. I hate that I want him more. It’s humiliating.”
Cheryl fingered the stem of her margarita goblet. “If you should decide to give it another try, I’ll bet you could turn the tables on him. You’re not some shy little virgin now, are you? You have some experience and you—”
“You make it sound like I know all about sex. I don’t. I do research for the show, but that doesn’t mean I have a ton of practical knowledge. It’s not like I’ve tried all those Kama Sutra tips, you know.”
“I said some, not a ton. We’ve both had some, and I like to think we have a few tricks up our sleeve that can turn the average man into a groveling fool willing to do anything to keep us happy. You need to take the offensive with Jess if you want to regain some control. When are you going to see him again?”
“I’m not!” Katie thought the conversation was getting way out of hand. “He’s too hot to handle, Cher. I lose my head when I’m with him. And besides, he’s putting up this hideous building next to the station. How can I get involved under those circumstances? I’m putting him completely out of my mind.”
“If you say so.” Cheryl held Katie’s gaze. “But I wonder how you’re going to do that. With that building going up, he’ll be in your face and on your mind for the next few months. You haven’t gotten over him in thirteen years, so what makes you think you can get over him now?”
“I just will, that’s all.”
“I have a suggestion, but it’s only a suggestion, mind you. Don’t act on it unless it makes sense. But it seems to me that a better course of action would be to make some moves on this guy—on your terms. Get into bad-girl mode and tease him until you have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“I don’t want to—”
“For one thing, it would make you feel a whole lot better about past events,” Cheryl said, pushing on, “and for another, if you end up having to tolerate that building next door, at least you’ll have some compensation for the pain. I think it sounds like a fun project, personally. Jess is easy on the eye, and if you could pin him down, he might be one hell of a lover. That intensity of his tells me that he could give a woman—”
“Shut up, Cheryl.” Katie hadn’t interrupted because she had something to say. She had nothing to say. But the longer Cheryl talked, the more Katie wondered if she could pull off such an outrageous maneuver. And that was dangerous thinking.
JESS GOT KATIE’S ADDRESS from her mother, who was thrilled to hear from him and apologetic about the things her daughter was saying about his building. Jess told her not to worry about it, that he and Katie were in the process of working things out. Then he proceeded to Katie’s apartment near the university.
Jess didn’t let too many people know he could pick a lock in under five seconds. He’d learned that trick from his father, one of the few things his dad had taught him during his rare trips back to Globe. By the time Jess had hit puberty and wised up about his dad, Mel Harkins had stopped coming to see him.
That was just as well. Jess’s mom had never admitted that her ex-husband was a thief, but Jess had figured it out by himself when she wouldn’t let him keep the portable DVD player his dad had brought him. His mom had left that perfectly good piece of equipment at a bus stop because she’d said keeping it might get them in trouble.
Since his mom didn’t talk about his dad, Jess didn’t either. If anyone asked, Jess said his parents were divorced and his dad wasn’t around anymore. But Jess had vowed to be the exact opposite of his father—steady and true. Picking the lock on Katie’s apartment door made him feel uneasy, but he couldn’t figure out any other way to guarantee he’d have her attention.
AS KATIE UNLOCKED HER apartment door, she heard music and wondered if she’d left her CD player on. Then she stepped inside and her adrenaline level spiked. At least a dozen thick tapers threw flickering light over her living room.
And there, lounging on her sofa, was Jess. She’d been thinking about him so much that she wondered if she’d conjured him up.
“Hi,” he said softly.
That was the voice of a real man, no matter how much he looked like a fantasy. Jess Harkins, the guy who revved her up like no other, was actually sitting in her living room. Heart pounding, she backed up against the door. “How did you get in here?”
“Your mom gave me the address, and—”
“A key? If my mother gave you a key to my apartment, she and I need to have a serious discussion. I can imagine her telling you where I lived. I realize that she always liked you, but giving you a key goes way beyond—”
“She