Out Of Love Part 21

Carmen leaned back in her first-cla.s.s leather seat and sipped a scotch with her left hand. With her right, she rolled her thumb and index fingers together, trying to recapture in her mind the feel of Judith's nipple as it became erect. The next two weeks were going to drag by, despite the hectic schedule she faced at work.

She would have to let Cathy know first thing on Monday to reschedule her meeting in San Diego for another day. At present, she was scheduled to land at O'Hare at eleven thirty on Friday night, the same night Judith was due to arrive in Chicago.

No way was she going to give up even a minute of time they could be together.

Judith O'Shea had gotten to her. Not like Robin, the personal trainer, or Kim Tau, the magazine editor with whom she had spent five years. Or any of the other women who had piqued her s.e.xual interest and hung around until she was forced to admit it was a relationship. Only one other person had gotten to her the way Judith had-Brooke Healey. And that realization both terrified and thrilled her.

144.

Chapter 12.

Judith loved Sundays. While most people looked forward to languishing in bed on this day of rest, her habit was to get up early and head out for a hot, b.u.t.tery croissant and a strong latte.

Then she would return to her apartment to devour both her breakfast and the Sunday Times. Most Sundays, she followed that with a leisurely shower and the trip to Brooklyn.

She had an extra task today-making a reservation to Chicago for the weekend after next. It was a popular route, which meant virtually all airlines would offer it at the same price.

As her laptop booted up, she watched through the window as the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in almost a week.

It was too bad Carmen wasn't still in town.

That thought drew her eyes to the futon, where she had fantasized before falling asleep last night about Carmen's hands and mouth all over her . . . every inch, she had said. That mystery 145 would undoubtedly be revealed in a couple of weeks, and Judith's greatest fear was that she would disappoint. Carmen was overtly s.e.xual, and while Judith knew her body would respond, she wasn't as confident she could reciprocate, at least not on the level Carmen might expect.

She logged on to the wireless network, which she shared through an informal arrangement with her neighbors on the other side of the wall. A quick check of her e-mail yielded a delightful surprise-a note from Carmen. She read quickly, just to make sure things were as they had left them yesterday afternoon. Her eyes went wide as she realized Carmen had already made her reservation out of LaGuardia at six thirty on Friday, arriving at O'Hare at eight that night. She would have dinner waiting . . . and hoped Judith would accept her invitation to stay at her home rather than a hotel.

Judith almost laughed at the last bit. She had never even considered staying in a hotel, especially after their heated session on the futon. That struck her as yet more evidence of Carmen's insecurity, something that made absolutely no sense.

She typed her reply, chiding Carmen over purchasing the ticket already, but thanking her just the same. A six thirty departure would squeeze her a bit, but she could make it, and yes, she wanted to stay in Carmen's home. This insecurity needed to be put to rest.

If she lived to be a hundred years old, Carmen would never regret naming Lenore vice president of The Delallo Group. The young woman would be running her own company someday unless Carmen found a way to bring her on as a partner.

"So this is our timetable for conversion," Lenore explained, standing at the head of the conference table by the glossy white erasure board. Her prop was a multi-colored PERT chart out-lining a work plan to complete the time-share transition for Bill 146 Hinkle and Franklin Resorts. "Obviously, this is the first critical piece." She circled a marker that read "hire additional programmer."

"I liked your friend," Carmen said, spinning in her chair to face Raul. "But his salary demands are a little high."

"He's worth it, Carmen. He's one of the best."

"He's asking for almost as much as you make, and you've worked here six years. Does that seem fair to you?"

"You could pay me more if it would make you feel better."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. Her employees were well-compensated, but worth every penny.

Cathy entered the conference room carrying a cardboard box. "Lunch is here." She set the box on the desk and began to take the items out. "Here's a Greek salad for Lenore . . . roast beef for Raul . . . and a roast beef for Carmen."

Carmen's mouth was watering already. The only thing rarer than the Quincy Street Deli's roast beef was the occasion for her to eat it. Cathy seldom let her order-"Hey! This is turkey."

"They were out of roast beef," Cathy replied nonchalantly.

Carmen glanced at Raul, who quickly tucked his sandwich beneath the table. "He has roast beef."

"They ran out right after that." She picked up the box and left the room, with Carmen in pursuit.

"Do you have to do this all the time?" she demanded, dropping the turkey sandwich on Cathy's desk.

Cathy set the box beside it and reached inside, pulling out another sandwich, which she slapped into Carmen's hand. "For your information, I don't enjoy policing your diet, but you won't do it yourself. I happen to care about you. I figured you probably didn't pay attention to your cholesterol this weekend and thought you ought to get back in the habit of eating right."

Carmen scowled, remembering the Alfredo sauce on Friday, the rich pierogi on Sat.u.r.day, and the London broil at her mother's yesterday. Though it pained her, she tossed the roast 147 beef back into the box and picked up the turkey. "Sorry."

"When are you going to start taking better care of yourself?"

"You didn't even ask about my weekend."

"And you didn't ask about mine."

Carmen was startled by the sharpness of her friend's tone, but the words nailed her. "I'm sorry. That was selfish."

"It's okay."

"You're always too quick to forgive me when I act like a s.h.i.t.

You should let me wallow in it for at least a few minutes." She sat in the chair opposite Cathy's desk, putting aside the meeting that continued without her in the other room. "Tell me about your weekend."

Cathy rummaged in the box for a salad before carrying the rest of the items out to the receptionist's counter. When she returned, she sat in the chair beside Carmen. "I had Ramona and Simon for the whole weekend. We met up yesterday with Priscilla and her granddaughter at the zoo in Lincoln Park. We thought about stopping in to say hi, but I figured you wouldn't want three screaming kids running out on your balcony."

"It would have been okay, except I wasn't home. Paul brought his new girlfriend to Mom and Dad's for lunch. It was a big deal for everyone to finally meet her."

"Is this the one?"

"Who knows? He's fifty-six years old. I'd say he's not the marrying type."

"It only takes one. Did you like her?"

"Yeah. She seems like a good person. She runs some kind of literacy foundation that teaches adults to read."

Cathy took a bite of her salad and mumbled, "You want to talk about Judith?"

"I will if you like, or we can talk some more about your grandkids."

"They wore me out. But I'd rather make you listen later when I bring pictures. Go ahead and tell me what you did this week-148 end."

"First of all, we worked everything out from before. She isn't mad at me anymore about the Brooke thing." Carmen filled her in on the details of her time in New York, including the bit about the women who were traveling to Europe and what Judith's boss had done. "I felt so bad for her. She was so sad."

"You do that a lot, you know."

"Do what?"

"You take on other people's feelings. It's a good thing you didn't go into medicine like everyone else in your family. I just don't think you'd handle loss very well."

"That and I can't stand the sight of blood."

"Then it's also a good thing you didn't have children. I think you've made all the right decisions . . . so far, that is. Don't go doing something crazy now."

"Like what?"

"Like getting a tattoo in the Village. If it feels crazy, don't do it." She handed Carmen a napkin and motioned for her to wipe her chin. "So when are you going back to New York?"

"Judith's coming here, weekend after next."

That information must have come as a shock, because Cathy was speechless.

"You're surprised?"

"I guess I am. Does this mean it's serious?"

Carmen hadn't really been serious about anyone since Kim.

"I like her, Cathy. She just, I don't know . . . she got to me when she started choking up about those two women. And then she told me about her brother. He's forty-six years old and he lives in a group home for the mentally r.e.t.a.r.ded."

Cathy kept eating and let her talk.

"And she saves her leftovers to give to homeless people. Have you ever known me to go out with anybody like that?"

"Didn't Kim call the police on her cell phone when the homeless guy tried to wash her windshield for spare change?"

149.

"Come to think of it, she did."

"I don't really know much about Judith, but from what I've seen, those two are like night and day. Have you heard from Kim lately?"

"Not for a couple of years."

"I have to admit, you two made an interesting pair, but I wasn't all that surprised when you split up."

"I can't believe we lasted five years together. We were so much alike. Neither of us was willing to put the other one in front of our work. What do you suppose that said about us?"

"I think both of you got husbands when what you needed was a wife."

Carmen laughed. "I should have married you, Cathy."

"We both know who you should have married," she said quietly.

"Yeah, life's cruel sometimes."

"Maybe not. Maybe it just takes its own sweet time." Cathy finished her lunch and set the empty bowl aside. "Any chance you're falling in love with Judith?"

Carmen sighed, wadding up the crusts of her sandwich inside the wrapper. "I don't know. She lives in New York, so wouldn't that qualify as one of those crazy things you were talking about?"

"Not necessarily." Cathy tilted her head, as though contem-plating whether or not to say what was on her mind.

"Go ahead."

"I don't think it's crazy for you to fall for Judith. At least she's available . . . unlike someone else you've been clinging to for the past thirty years."

Carmen banked her paper wad off the wall and into the trashcan. "I haven't even thought about Brooke since last week." That wasn't quite true, but she hadn't let her mind wander to her usual fantasies about Brooke leaving Geoffrey and returning to live with her.

"That's a good sign. You aren't going to fall in love with 150 anyone until you fall out of love with her." She leaned over and picked up a small stack of pink messages. "Speak of the devil, guess who called?"

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"She wants us all for a girls' night this Sunday at your place."

"My place?"

"She said there weren't any men at your house."

"Are you coming?"

"Sure. Hank's two brothers are staying with us for the whole weekend and I'll be ready for a night without men."

"Why aren't all of you lesbians?"

"Men aren't that bad. All you have to do is find one who listens to you even when his mother's in the room."

"Does Hank do that?"

"In spades."

Carmen chuckled. "I suppose I could cook something for all of us . . . veal scaloppine maybe." She caught a stern look from her friend. "What I obviously meant to say was some kind of whole grain pasta tossed with vegetables and tofu."

"That sounds delicious. I'll bring cheesecake." Cathy got up to go back to her desk.

"Wait a-" She could only shake her head. "Thank you for my lovely lunch. I a.s.sume you paid out of petty cash since we're technically in a meeting."

"I did."

"Good. I need to get rolling on hiring that new programmer.

And I'm going to have to give Raul a little raise to put some distance between them."