Some Like Them Rich Page 10

  Don shifted, his arm going under mine and making me more comfortable. Then suddenly I was free. With lightning speed, he broke contact and righted the chair with me still in it. He smiled at my surprise as he stepped back.

  “See you at lunch. Right after your diving lesson.”

  He ran off down the beach, leaving behind a confused and frustrated me. I grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at him, but the wind forced it back and tiny granules as sharp as glass bit at my face.

  Chapter 10

  It felt good to be pursued again. After meeting Clay Reynolds in the grocery store, I never expected to see him again. But he’d called me several times, inviting me out. I’d refused, everytime.

  Until now.

  Going parasailing with him was the least I could do. And it was something adventurous. I wasn’t very adventurous by nature. I often chose the safe road, ordering the same thing in restaurants, eating the exact same lunch every day, shopping in the same store, buying the same styles. But on the Vineyard, I was different, free. Amber’s idea of enhancing our biographies also meant I could change my life. At least for now I could have some fun.

  “Are you ready, Lila?” Clay shouted over the wind.

  I nodded, adjusting the harness. “This is very tight,” I said.

  “It has to be,” the trainer said. “It’s a safety feature and we’re all about safety here.” He smiled reassuringly.

  A band was strapped under my breast circling my body. Another went through my legs and connected to the first one. Over my shoulders were other bands made of some super-strong material. Together they forced me to stand erect, giving me perfect posture.

  “Just relax and let the wind do all the work,” the trainer instructed me again.

  I checked my snaps and buckles as I glanced at Clay. He was no longer in his harness, since he’d gone first and I’d watched him soaring in the sky. It was now my turn to sail into space. My harness was attached to the giant sail that was to be my guide to the heavens.

  “Ready?” Clay shouted again.

  “As ready as I’m going to be.” I smiled tentatively. My heart was pounding. I could feel it in my ears and my head. I was scared, but I was going to do this. I’d spent my life being safe, staying on the straight and narrow road, not making waves. I know now that I wanted more than that. And I wouldn’t get it by always being safe.

  I signaled to the boat driver that I was ready. Clay and the trainer stepped back and the boat took off. Moments later I was airborne, as if my weight was half what it was and what I worked at keeping it. The wind embraced me, lifting my feet from the water, invisible hands pulling me above the earth and all that tethered me to it.

  I was free.

  The air pulled at my hair, pushed against my breasts and my body with equal force. I held on as tight as I could while the world below me surrendered.

  It was exhilarating, like nothing I’d ever felt before. I looked down on the island. Houses, cars, and people were reduced to doll size. I don’t know how long I stayed in this new world, but it wasn’t long enough. When the boat dropped me into the water and Clay’s strong arms lifted me back on the dock, I wanted to do it again.

  “It was wonderful,” I said, breathless and excited. “I want to do it again. It’s like flying on the wind. You can’t imagine how great it is.”

  “Lila, take a breath,” Clay said. The smile on his face was huge. His white teeth gleamed, a perfect picture framed by lips that I wanted to kiss. “I knew you would love it.”

  Without thinking I threw my arms around his neck. “I did,” I said.

  No one had ever taken me parasailing before. No one had even suggested anything out of the ordinary: dinner, movie, renting DVDs. Clay was different. He thought beyond the ordinary. No box forced him inside. He was as free as the air that let him float to earth.

  Moments later, as I tried to pull back from the embrace, Clay’s arms tightened around me. It felt good being held. I hadn’t been really held by a man in a long time. I could smell the dried water on his skin. It was mingled with another smell all its own. Clay’s unique smell. I liked it, to the point that I wanted to open my mouth and taste his skin, feel the warmth of his naked body against my tongue.

  I swallowed, forcing myself to keep from acting on my thoughts. I hadn’t known Clay very long and wouldn’t get to know him any better. He was everything I was looking for in a man. Everything except the money, I thought.

  There were other qualities I needed other than money. It was ironic that I wouldn’t get to know any of the values Clay held. Our one date was all there was and all there would be.

  “Let’s get dressed and have something to eat?” he suggested.

  The trainer was already unhooking me from the harness. I looked at the people waiting for the chance I’d just had to sail above the water.

  “Lunch sounds wonderful.” I smiled, knowing that second to flying again, I wanted to spend more time with Clay.

  “What would you like to eat?”

  It had been a while since anyone asked me. They thought because of my looks, my head carried no brain. The fact that I’d been top salesperson for the last three years made no difference. To them it was an invisible act. People ordered from me because I had great tits and ass. Some of them did, I admitted that. But all procurement officers, formulary directors, and material management professionals weren’t male. The fact that a lot of the purchasing agents I dealt with were heterosexual females was immaterial to a man who naturally figured my presentations involved a big smile and a double-D cup.

  “Seafood, of course.”

  “How about the hotel restaurant. I’ve eaten there a couple of times and the food was good.”

  “You mean the St. Romaine?”

  He nodded. “It’s not far. We could walk.” He looked at my bare feet. My shoes were flats and I would have no problem walking, but I frowned at the thought.

  Going to the St. Romaine meant my chances of running into Amber increased fourfold. So far my day with Clay was going great. I didn’t want to spoil it by having Amber cut her eyes in my direction.

  “We don’t have to go there. We can go anywhere you like. I’d just like to spend some time with you.”

  My heart warmed. I smiled, unable to stop myself. I’d heard that line before. Most times I rolled my eyes and walked away. It was code for “I want to feel your breasts and go to bed with you.” From Clay I didn’t have that impression.

  Maybe I didn’t want it. Surely, I didn’t want it.

  “I noticed a small restaurant on the other side of the island. It’s near that grocery store where we met.”

  His mouth turned up in a memory-smile. I could read his thoughts since they were as clear as my own. We both remembered the tomatoes and cantaloupes rolling around the floor in the store.

  “You know the way, you drive,” he said fifteen minutes later when we were standing beside his car. He flipped the keys toward me. Instinctively I caught them.

  “You want me to drive?” The surprise in my voice was unmistakable.

  “Sure. You couldn’t have gotten to that store without a car. So I assume you drive.”

  “I do, but …”

  “But?” he questioned.

  “But cars are generally an extension of—” I stopped. Who was being the chauvinist now?

  He completed my sentence. “Male sexuality.”

  Biting my lower lip, I nodded.

  “I don’t really like to drive,” he said. “You’ll be doing us a favor.”

  I smiled broadly. “I love to drive,” I said.

  “See, we’re compatible.”

  With a laugh we got in the car and headed toward the place of our first encounter and the restaurant along the opposite shore.

  The restaurant had both inside and outside seating. We chose the outside and were seated at the edge of the railing looking at the ocean. A soft breeze blew over us. Clay laughed when I ordered a salad.

  “That’s not all yo
u’re going to eat?” he said. “Not after that ride on the parasail?”

  I remembered my vow to take chances. “That’s to start,” I lied. Scanning the menu, I chose a lobster tail with drawn butter, a baked potato loaded with sour cream, and broccoli spears. It was partially healthy, I rationalized. At least the salad was.

  And I ate it all. I’d never felt so satisfied in my life. We lingered over coffee and dessert until the place was empty of all patrons except us. Clay kept me laughing with stories of his childhood and escapes from his aunt.

  “How about a walk?” he asked when we finally relinquished our luncheon seats.

  “Along the beach?” I suggested.

  He nodded.

  We stepped from the restaurant directly onto the sand. I grabbed his arm. His muscles clenched under my hand. Bending down, I took off my shoes. He wore sandals and he removed them, too. Then as natural as sunshine, we linked arms and began walking.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” I said. “I’m glad Amber talked me into coming.”

  “Amber, that’s your friend? The one with the disapproving eyes?”

  I looked up at him. “She’s really a wonderful person when you get to know her. You saw her on a bad day.” I lied so easily. I didn’t usually lie, didn’t have to, but this was a summer of deception and I knew that from the beginning. Even though I wanted to be totally honest with Clay, I had to maintain the story we’d agreed on. Telling one person we were not who we appeared to be could lead to disaster for us all. And while I might leave the Vineyard exactly as I’d come, there was no reason to think that Jack and Amber wouldn’t find what they were looking for.

  “It’s your turn now,” Clay said.

  “My turn for what?” I asked.

  “At lunch I told you all about me. Now it’s your turn to tell me your story.”

  I looked down at our feet as we walked. I thought about what to tell him, what to say.

  “There isn’t that much,” I began the partial truth-partial lie we’d rehearsed. “My father owns a pharmaceutical company. I work there.”

  “There’s more to you than what you do and what your father owns.”

  In truth, my father was a vice president of a company that manufactured flooring supplies: wood, tiles, stone, gluing products, and carpeting. He made a modest middle-class income. We never wanted for anything. His job afforded his four children things like dance lessons, football camp, and the universities of our choice. But we were far from rich.

  “So, tell me about Lila.” Clay squeezed my arm, bringing me closer to him. It was the perfect gesture, but more than that, his words were like shining beacons to my psyche. Most men’s next question would’ve been what pharmaceutical company did my father own. Dollar signs immediately appearing in their eyes.

  But Clay had broken the mold on that. More for me than my job, than my fictitious parent. He really wanted to know about me and not look at or Braille my outer frame with hands that couldn’t find a place to rest.

  “Do you have any sisters or brothers?”

  “Three,” I answered. “Two brothers, both older. One sister, younger.”

  “Are you a close family?”

  “Yes.” I smiled, thinking of the last Thanksgiving we’d all been together, plenty of food, laughter, and love. “When we were kids, we hated each other, but we grew closer as we got older and started our own lives.”

  “Families are generally like that. Do they all work in the pharmaceutical business?”

  I shook my head. “I’m the only one who followed my father. One of my brothers works on Wall Street. We call him the financial wizard. He always liked managing money. Now he does it for the family. The other brother owns a bank and my sister lives in Italy and manages an art gallery.”

  “Wow! I’m amazed you even spoke to me.”

  “Not speaking would be rude,” I said, grinning. “Especially when we were chasing tomatoes.”

  The truth was I did have three siblings. And my brother did work on Wall Street, but he was no wizard. He was a trader and good at what he did, but he wasn’t rich. My second brother was a vice president of a small bank in Chicago. He didn’t own it, and everyone in a bank was a vice president. My sister was an art student in Italy. And our father had never set foot in a pharmaceutical company.

  Clay and I continued walking, but I steered the subject away from personal issues. After a while we stopped talking altogether. We walked along the edge of the water. Our feet were wet, but our hearts were linked. My hands had moved from holding his arm to circling his waist. Like lovers, we followed the sun. Finally it was time to turn around and return to the car.

  I thought of it as relinquishing the fantasy and returning to the real world. But for another hour or so I could stay in the perfect world that had surrounded me the moment Clay had appeared at my door to take me out for the day.

  “Where are we going to have dinner?” Clay asked.

  “Dinner? We just had lunch.” I put my hands on my stomach. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to eat again.”

  “You will.”

  “Can we go somewhere and relax? Or would you like to rent bicycles or roller skates, maybe a flying saucer for a trip to the moon?”

  “You’re laughing at me?”

  “I am, but it’s been really fun. I’ve never been asked to do some of the things you suggested. Parasailing was wonderful. I’m glad we did it.”

  We’d stopped walking and were looking out at the water. It seemed to go on forever, at least until it met the sky. I sat down in the sand. Clay joined me. The sun had me squinting. It turned the ocean surface into a shimmering dance of jewels.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” I said.

  He looked at the water, his eyes sweeping the limitless ocean and the uncluttered beach area. His eyes came back to me. “It surely is.”

  His arm went around my back. I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder. I inched closer to him until even air couldn’t pass between us. We sat like that watching the gulls, the sky, and the water for longer than I’d ever been with a man who didn’t try to make a move under those circumstances. The difference with Clay was I wanted him to make a move. I yearned for it, but he only held me.

  We stayed at the beach talking and exchanging stories until dinnertime. Then we had dinner in the same little seaside restaurant. We ate inside, in a quiet little corner. And we danced afterward. Clay was a wonderful dancer, and being held in his arms was like heaven.

  By the time I slipped my key in the door of the house, the day had died and slivers of sunlight streaking the eastern sky announced the beginning of another one.

  “Today was perfect,” I told him.

  “Almost perfect,” he said. His eyes bored into mine. I watched as he leaned into me, his mouth aiming for mine. When our lips met, the heavens must have had everything in alignment.

  “Now it’s perfect,” he said.

  I exhaled, then smiled.

  Clay touched my chin. “You have a beautiful smile,” he said.

  I knew it was flattery. Yet it didn’t keep me from giving him an even bigger smile and another laugh.

  I felt wonderful. My heart was singing. Nothing could spoil how perfect this day had been.

  “So tell me, you haven’t thought of that other guy once today, have you?”

  Except that, I thought. Orlando immediately came to mind. I hadn’t thought of him all day, but I said, “What other guy?” I hoped Clay’s reply wouldn’t have anything to do with Orlando. He didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him.

  “The one who put the hurt in your eyes.”

  My smile froze as solid as the two miles of ice in Antarctica. I dropped my eyes. I wanted to turn away, put some space between us, but I stood my ground. “You know Orlando?” I hadn’t said a thing about Orlando and I knew Jack and Amber wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t even know them.

  “Is he the man who broke your heart?”

  A million things went thro
ugh my mind as to how I could respond to that, but none seemed as adequate as the truth.

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “You hide it well,” he said. “But I’ve been there and I know the signs.”

  “You had a man break your heart?”

  He laughed, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest. “It was a woman. About five years ago.”

  “How did you get over her?”

  “Time, good friends, and traveling helped.”

  “How long did it take?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged.

  I’m sure I looked confused. I was confused.

  “It doesn’t happened from one day to the next. Just one day the hurt is a little less and finally it’s gone. It does help if you have someone to guide you through it.”

  I looked skeptical. This sounded like he’d led me straight to a pick-up line. “And I suppose you’re applying for the job?”

  “Not exactly.” He voice was serious. I stood up straighter as if his words had strings that pulled me up.

  “So you decided to be my savior?” I said as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “No!”

  “You decided I needed someone to help me through the crisis, through my bereavement? And you appointed yourself.”

  “No, that’s not how it was at all.”

  “Well, I don’t need your sympathy. Thanks for a perfect day.”

  I turned the key in the lock so hard it should have broken off. But the door opened. I went inside and turned to slam it closed. At the last minute I remembered Jack and Amber were sleeping and softly closed and locked it.

  In my room, I flopped on the bed and cried. How could he spoil such a wonderful day? I thought he was really interested in me, when all the time he was practicing drugstore psychology. But what really made me angry was it worked.

  I hadn’t thought of Orlando since the telephone rang and Clay’s voice was at the other end.

  Chapter 11

  Joel was progressing well. He’d graduated from the side of the pool to the low diving board. The child and I were a lot alike. Joel wanted something and he was willing to work hard to get it. In his case, however, it was innocent and healthy.