you’ve become!”
“How dare you not write me?” he asked, pulling away. “I should spank you for that right now. And hard!”
Garda put her hand to her throat. “Hugo, don’t start with me the first second.”
“What? You felt something just then, didn’t you? Something here?” Hugo pressed his palm against her tummy.
“Hugo, how could you be just the same after all these years?” she laughed and let herself continue to be hugged.
“You found me by accident, didn’t you?” he asked, releasing her and enjoying the delicate blush that suffused her cheeks. “God, you’re still beautiful. But I don’t like the pale lips. I remember that dark red lipstick you used to wear. So sexy.”
“Yes, I found you by accident. I’m in town on business and I found your lovely little B&D journal in my room at the Inn. Naturally I devoured it and was agog to see you were the publisher, and right here in the village. Too good to be true!”
“See, I told you I’d make a magazine.”
“I think I need to put an ad in it.”
“Let me put up the sign and we’ll have lunch.”
“You own this place too?” she asked as he ushered her out.
“Yes, shortly after you departed I had a favorite aunt leave me some money and I used it to go into the antique business. The magazine is just a sideline. It barely pays for itself.”
“You should charge more for it.”
“Everyone’s going on-line these days.”
“I got off to some of the stories and illustrations last night in my room.”
“Naughty girl!”
They strolled back to The Bone and Feather Inn and had lunch in the pub.
During the cocktail stage Garda confided that she had never married but had been in a series of failed relationships with highly competitive though not technically dominant men. She had tried attending local support groups in San Francisco and Los Angeles but never felt attracted to the people she met at their parties and was profoundly bored by their interminable meetings. Once or twice, out of curiosity and desperation, she had answered a male dominant ad in a local paper, but was consistently disappointed.
“Who are you in town to see?” Hugo asked.
“Randy Price. You know him? He’s letting the studio I work for shoot at his estate and I’ve brought contracts for him to sign.”
“Yes, I know him. He’ll come on to you, but don’t succumb. He’s not our kind of people,” Hugo counseled.
“Hugo, this isn’t Ally McBeal. Mega millionaire clients do not come on to female lawyers old enough to remember life before pantyhose.”
“You don’t look your age,” Hugo promised her, squeezing her leg under the table. Again she blushed. Then Hugo thought, “What am I doing?” and withdrew his hand.
“So what about now?” he asked, “in a relationship?”
“No,” she said helpfully.
“Maybe you do need to place an ad.”
“How about you, Hugo?”
“Well, I couldn’t wait for you forever, so I finally did get into a relationship.”
“Would she mind your squeezing my leg under the table? Is that why you suddenly withdrew your lovely hand?”
“Yes, I suddenly remembered Laura, who is conveniently out of town for a few days, but who deserves to be mentioned.”
“Wife Laura?”
“Girlfriend. My illustrator too.”
“For how long?”
“Well, I met her five years ago, but temporarily lost her to another. It took a few years to get her back, so I’d say we’ve been together about two years.”
“Live together?”
“No. She lives up at the Cliff House. Her little sister landed the composer Anthony Newton for a lover off my introduction and he took to Laura as well.”
“Convenient,” she said.
“And rent free,” he grinned.
“Oh dear,” she frowned, sipping her cocktail.
“What?”
“I’m feeling that horrible jealous feeling again.”
“Really?” Hugo couldn’t help but be pleased that Garda still loved him. “You’re so bad. You probably haven’t had a good spanking in years.”
“Hugo, stop, you’re making me blush and I haven’t done that in years either.”
“Come visit me later. I have a great playroom.”
“I have to have dinner with Randy, but I can drop by afterwards,” she promised.
“With dark red lipstick and earrings on.”
“Just as you like, Hugo,” said Garda agreeably surprised that nothing had changed between them.
After lunch Hugo took Garda through the village on foot, stopping at a small, chic looking dress shop on Main Street. “A friend of mine owns this shop and my former-girl Friday works here,” Hugo said, ushering Garda into the smart boutique. Inside they found one small and elegantly shapely brunette in her late 20’s or possibly just 30, clad in a close fitting gray wool dress steaming the wrinkles out of some hanging suits while a second, taller and still more slender brunette, in another version of the grey wool dress, in her middle 20’s, with her hair in a shiny black French roll, stood meticulously folding cashmere sweaters behind one of the counters. Both women looked up but only the smaller one smiled.
“Hi girls. Damaris, Pamela, this is Garda Hudson.”
Garda said how do you do and shook hands with them while Hugo explained to her that Pamela, who had until recently been his own assistant at the shop, had just signed on with Damaris as a custom seamstress.
“She’s got art and fashion degrees and was wasted behind my counter,” he disclosed, smiling at Pamela, who returned the smile but faintly. “So for her own good, I let her go,” he continued.
“My good too. I love my new assistant,” said Damaris, delighted to be running her own business in Random Point with such a suitable partner. Indeed, the two women with their nipped waists, black hair and pale olive complexions might have been sisters.
“And I love my very first girlfriend in the scene,” Hugo said, squeezing Garda’s slender waist.
“Your first, Hugo?” Damaris seemed to appreciate the poignancy
