Coffee sonata, p.13
Coffee Sonata, page 13
“Have I done something to upset you?” Vivian’s voice, tinged with sudden sorrow, stung.
Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it. I kissed you, for heaven’s sake! I more or less attacked you on the couch and forced a kiss on you… “No. Yes. I mean, it was my fault.” She sent the customers at the other end of the room a worried look. “Let’s don’t talk about it here.”
“Fine. Where then?”
“I don’t know. I’m busy now.” Goose bumps rose all over Mike’s arms and legs. Can’t you see I’m dying, Vivian? Stop pushing.
“Can you come over tonight? We could walk the dogs and have a late-night snack.”
Mike wanted to decline. More than anything she wanted to hide from Vivian, who had pierced her shields with strange effortlessness. But I did promise to be there for her. “All right. I close at ten. I can ask Martha and Edward to cover for me the last half hour.”
“I’d like that. A lot.” Vivian slumped back a little on her stool.
“I’m off, then. Thank you, Mike,” Erin said.
“Go home and rest. You’re still pale.”
Eryn frowned. “I’ll try.”
She left, and Vivian also rose from the stool and finished the last of her espresso. “Delicious, as always, cara. See you later.”
Mike nodded, reached for the cup at the same time as Vivian, and their hands met. Vivian, who apparently hadn’t seen Mike’s hand, grasped it. “Mike. Don’t shut me out,” she whispered. “Please.”
The touch almost did Mike in. She squeezed Vivian’s hand and held on for a few seconds too long. “I’ll be there.”
*
“Hold the elevator, please!”
Eryn, about to press the button for the third floor, opened the outer gate while Manon hurried through it, holding at least eight shopping bags from different boutiques and carrying her briefcase under her left arm. “Eryn. Great. Could you save my computer? I overestimated my strength.”
“Got it.” Eryn grabbed the briefcase and tried to hold back the gasp that escaped her when she inadvertently stroked the outside of Manon’s breast. “Sorry.”
Manon put down her bags and reached for the briefcase. “Thank you,” she said. “That could have been a disaster.”
“Here you go.” Eryn handed it over and motioned toward the bags, happy to have something else to focus on. “You’ve been busy.”
“Yes. I have so many functions coming up, not to mention the fund-raiser concert in a few weeks. I had to restock my wardrobe. I realized just how busy I’d be when Marjorie and I tried to find a time to go over the research material with you—should you choose to accept.”
“You sound like Mission Impossible.” Eryn smiled. “‘Should you choose…’”
Manon hesitated, then chuckled. “I did, didn’t I?” Manon seemed more at ease and younger as she leaned against the elevator wall. Only when it stopped with a sudden jerk did she square her shoulders again. “You will give it serious thought, won’t you, Eryn?”
“Yes. I said I would.” Please, don’t try to weasel a decision out of me just yet. Eryn opened the inner gate.
“I know. I know.” Manon held up her hands, palms toward Eryn.
Eryn pushed the outer gate open and regretted her terse reply. They might be offering me the chance of a lifetime, and I’m acting like I’m being stalked. “Hey. Want a cup of coffee?”
Manon looked at her for several seconds, and Eryn had no idea what might be going through her head. “Coffee would be lovely. Thank you.”
“I don’t have Mike’s flair for making espresso, but I make good regular black coffee.”
“I’d take instant after trying on seventeen cocktail dresses at Genevieve’s.”
Genevieve’s Boutique & Shoes was one of the fancy clothing stores on Main Street that carried shoes costing half a month of Eryn’s salary. “Seventeen? You’re kidding.”
Eryn took mercy on the briefcase again, and Manon gathered her purchases. “No. All gorgeous, which made it almost impossible to choose.”
They walked into Eryn’s condo and into the kitchen. “Please, sit down. I’ll have some real coffee—not instant—brewing in a minute.”
“Sounds heavenly.”
Eryn busied herself with the coffee machine, pouring ground coffee beans into the filter and measuring water. Manon’s discreet scent permeated the kitchen, and Eryn hoped it would linger after she left. “You like it strong, don’t you?”
“Yes, please. Nothing’s worse than weak coffee.”
God, that voice of hers. Its velvet, throaty qualities rippled along Eryn’s spine and sent dark shivers through her abdomen. How can a voice cause physical reactions? Eryn had never experienced such a blatant response. Sure, her former lover Jenny had been hot, sizzling, even, but it had taken obvious overtures and hands-on caresses for Eryn to react the way she now responded to Manon’s voice. Say something more. Please.
“I like the way you’ve arranged the copper pieces.”
That’s it. A topic. “They were my aunt’s, and she kept them in a cabinet.”
Eryn glanced up at the collection, everything from copper coffeepots to cookie cutters that she’d polished and now displayed on the window sill. She wasn’t going to tell Manon how, while polishing the smallest toy-size kettle, she’d begun to cry.
Amanda never spoke ill of Harriet Goddard to Eryn’s face, but Eryn had once overheard her great-aunt talk to one of her friends. “The child needs love. It’s as simple as that. If Harriet can’t see past her own prejudice to meet her daughter’s needs, then I will. She praises Eryn’s sisters for tying their shoes, and this child…she brings home top-grade essays to show her mother, and…Harriet’s a fool. A blind, misguided fool.”
The conversation had stuck in the seventeen-year-old Eryn’s memory all these years, and Amanda’s condo had been the only place she’d been able to relax and be herself.
Not now, though. She felt jittery and as if she were running a temperature, merely because Manon was sitting on one of her kitchen chairs.
“Your kitchen is so cozy. Perhaps I should go for something less…strict. My interior decorator talked me into an austere-looking…well, you’ve seen it.”
Manon’s kitchen was white, gray, and brushed steel, very modern. “Yes. It’s beautiful, but not very homey.”
“I know.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as Eryn finished setting up the coffee machine. She turned and reached for mugs from the cabinet, moaning when she accidentally raised her left arm too high.
“Let me help.” Manon was immediately by Eryn’s side and placed an arm around her waist. “You’ve been carrying that bag of yours all day. It may have made your shoulder worse.”
“No, I’m okay. It’s only when I try to raise my arm above my head—”
“Listen to me. Sit. I’ll pour the coffee when it’s ready.”
“All right.” Eryn knew when to give in. Manon’s voice, as sexy as it could be, sometimes sounded relentless. “You take it black, right?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
“I downloaded the pictures I took at the Dodd Mansion.” Eryn sat down, reached into her bag, and pulled out her computer. “Want to see?” Anything to get away from feeling so darn jittery.
“I’d love to.” Manon rose and pulled out two ceramic mugs from the open cabinet before walking over to stand behind Eryn. “Marjorie’s still striking, don’t you think?”
“Yes, you can tell she was gorgeous. She doesn’t look her age at all.”
Eryn pulled up the image folder and made sure only the pictures she wanted to show Manon were highlighted, then clicked the button that launched the preview.
Manon leaned closer and steadied herself against the kitchen table. “You’re a good photographer,” she said as the first few images rolled by. “Marjorie looks really great and…what…”
Eryn stared at her computer in horror. Frozen, she watched as the slideshow kept going and displayed the five close-ups she’d taken of Manon.
Shit! What the hell…how could this happen? I selected only the pictures of Marjorie. The silence was overwhelming, and Eryn wanted to crawl down under the table and hide.
“When did you intend to use these?” Manon straightened up and walked over to the counter. She poured coffee into two mugs and slowly, deliberately turned around. Her slate gray eyes were cold. Darker than usual, they bored into Eryn and demanded an answer.
“Never.” Eryn clasped her hands tight in her lap.
“Never? I find that hard to believe. You were there as a reporter, and you made sure I thought you were taking pictures of only Marjorie or the two of us together.”
“I was. I mean, I was there for the Chronicle. These…” Eryn gestured toward the computer screen with a queasy feeling in her stomach. “These were…for me. It was still wrong of me. I…You looked so photogenic, but that’s no excuse.” Damn, I really screwed up. She doesn’t trust me as it is. And now…I’m such an idiot!
“For you? What do you mean?”
“For my personal viewing pleasure.” Eryn knew her attempt at irony was futile. “I’ll erase them right away.” She placed her index finger on the touch pad.
“No! Wait. Let me look at them.” Manon walked closer and handed a mug to Eryn, her eyes on the screen as she sipped her coffee. “They’re not bad. I don’t like being the center of attention for pictures, so you actually took some good ones…because I didn’t know I was your target.”
Eryn’s throat constricted at Manon’s choice of words. Target. It made her sound like paparazzi or, worse, a stalker. She merely held on to her mug, not sure what to say.
“And you won’t use these for the Chronicle or sell them to anyone else?”
“I can burn them on a CD for you, then erase them from my hard drive.”
“You could already have e-mailed them to your office.”
“I haven’t! I shouldn’t have taken the pictures, but, damn it, I’m not a freakin’ liar!”
“All right.” Manon bit into her lower lip. “Don’t erase them. Just give me your word that you won’t share them with anyone without asking.”
“I promise.” Eryn had to put her mug down on the table since her hands were shaking so badly. “Are you very angry?”
“I was for a moment.” Manon leaned closer and examined one of the pictures. “What am I looking at? I’m so focused on something behind you. Oh.”
Eryn turned her head and found that Manon was closer than she realized. She accidentally bumped her nose into Manon’s cheek, making her jump.
Manon held on to the backrest of Eryn’s chair. “I should get upstairs. It’s late.”
“Manon, please. We keep tiptoeing around each other.” The words flowed out of Eryn, tumultuous and scattered. “Ever since I told you I’m attracted to you and…and I have no idea if you ever have or could imagine…I mean I have the feeling you’re not indifferent to me, but…”
Manon inhaled deeply and drank some coffee, perhaps to buy time. “Eryn, don’t.”
“I have to say this. I don’t want to waste time beating around the bush. I look at you and go weak at the knees. Literally,” Eryn insisted, and stood up. “And at times you look at me with this strange expression of…I don’t know what! Am I that scary?” Another joke fell flat to the ground and incinerated on impact.
“You have no idea,” Manon quipped, her eyes sooty black.
“That’s what I said! I have no idea how you feel and it’s driving me insane. You set up this great working opportunity for me and make it very hard for me to refuse, and then you act as if we’re casual acquaintances. Where do you stand, Manon? And most important—are you gay or not?”
Chapter Twelve
Manon tried frantically to think of a plausible excuse to run out of Eryn’s kitchen. Instead, her mind went blank, and all she could do was to stare at Eryn for several agonizing seconds. Her tone turned from chilly to ice age. “That’s a very personal question. What do you expect me to say?”
“How about the truth?” Eryn said kindly. “How about quitting this I-don’t-know-if-she-knows-that-I-know game? I’ve been an out lesbian since I was fifteen. My mother hates me for it, but the rest of my family range from very supportive to ‘fine, live your life, but let’s not talk about it.’ I’ve fought hard to remain out.”
“It must’ve been difficult.” Manon tried to refocus the attention back to Eryn’s life.
“For me, it would’ve been harder to stay closeted.” Eryn pulled out the chair next to her. “Please. Sit down. I think you know quite a bit about being in the closet.”
“You assume too much.” Manon’s chest constricted. Reluctantly she sat down, ramrod straight, on the very edge of the chair, at a ninety-degree angle from Eryn.
“Do I?” Eryn said gently. “My gaydar is rarely off.”
“Your what?” Manon had no idea what Eryn was talking about.
“Gaydar. Inner radar that says if the other person is gay.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“I disagree, but okay—ever heard the saying ‘it takes one to know one’?” Eryn leaned forward and grasped Manon’s arm.
“Yes, I have,” Manon managed. The touch burned through her shirt. She looked at the pale hand, adorned with pink, blunt nails and occasional freckles. It was small yet unmistakably strong. “But it’s still a personal matter that—”
“We’ve shared lots of personal things. Especially last Friday night. What’s your worst fear? That I’ll jump your bones if you admit you find women attractive? Or that I’ll out you?”
Manon heard a faint trace of resentment in Eryn’s voice, but also something else. She’s laughing at me. She’s openly gay and proud of it. I must seem pathetic, but she has no way of knowing… Manon looked down at Eryn’s hand. “No. I don’t think that at all,” she said quietly. I think you must see me as the most pitiful person you’ve ever met.
Eryn squeezed her arm and moved to caress her elbow. “Damn, Manon, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.”
Manon could barely make herself look at Eryn. Her heart was pounding, and nothing in her upbringing had prepared her for this situation. Normally she skidded in and out of conversational traps with the ease of an Olympic slalom skier, but now her fear and conflicting emotions immobilized her. “You’re right,” she whispered. Her throat hurt.
“What?” Eryn sat as if frozen, her hand still around Manon’s elbow. “About being an ass. Yeah—”
“No. You’re right about me being afraid. Afraid of the repercussions. I have my work and my responsibilities. I don’t have the time or the energy for any type of relationship. Don’t you see? The legacy, my family’s dedication to everything I also hold sacred…it all matters more than—”
“Than what? Your own happiness? Your life? Your future?”
“The foundation is my happiness and future! I’ve spent my life in that office.” Tears of frustration rose in Manon’s eyes. “It’s what I’ve lived for all these years. Ever since I was thirteen, the foundation has been my pride and joy, my everything.” She wanted to move her arm out of Eryn’s reach, but her touch was strangely comforting.
Eryn sat still, watching Manon with sad eyes. “That’s normally how people talk about their family or their children.”
“My existence might seem pitiful to you, but I don’t lack anything!” Manon forced her tears back, blinking repeatedly. “My foundation means a lot to a great many people, and the reward I get from helping people create better lives for themselves is more than enough.”
“How about companionship? How about human touch?” Eryn’s voice rose as she began to rub Manon’s arm. “How about this?”
Eryn sounded so passionate that Manon expected her touch to be equally forceful. Instead Eryn rose and pulled Manon with her into a careful embrace. Manon didn’t struggle. She stood passive, determined to prove Eryn wrong. She couldn’t surrender to the secret feelings she’d kept from everyone for so long.
“How about this?” Eryn whispered, now in a low purr. “I can feel your heart beat, faster and faster.” She placed her hands on either side of Manon’s chest, and her thumbs, hot through the fabric, reached just below her breasts. “I’m not forcing you. You want this.” She sounded so certain.
“You won’t achieve anything with this demonstration.” Manon used her most haughty tone of voice. “Why are you doing this, Eryn?”
“Because you’re trying to fool yourself and everybody else. And because I’m at my wits’ end how to act around you. You’re so exciting and so hot. And you look at me with such confusion and desire. That in itself is damn sexy.”
She stepped even closer and pressed her breasts against Manon. “I saw how you checked me out when I took the pictures of Marjorie. Don’t you think I know what such glances imply?” She reached under Manon’s chin and tipped her head back. “And the way you look at me now…down that aristocratic nose. You try to keep me at a distance, and it must annoy you that it doesn’t work.”
As she tried to avoid Eryn’s touch, Manon found their lips only a whisper apart. Mesmerized, she stared into Eryn’s eyes and leaned in closer, unable to resist. “Eryn, please…”
After Eryn brushed her lips against Manon’s, parting them with gentle insistence, she deepened the kiss, and Manon forgot to breathe. The incredible tenderness, the small nibbles—it all flooded her senses with arousal and panic.
“Manon,” Eryn whispered against her mouth. “I’ve longed for this. Your lips. Kiss me back.”
Manon clenched her fists at her side, where she stood stiff and shaking within Eryn’s embrace. She wasn’t in control of her body or her mind, and couldn’t think of anything except how Eryn’s arms felt around her.
“Relax, honey. Relax.” Eryn’s breath was hot against Manon’s lower lip. Manon could feel her resistance crumble. Her body ached, and even worse, her soul was in agony, demanding she give in. Eventually, Manon gave a tormented whimper, raised her arms, and slid them up along Eryn’s sides. She wrapped them around Eryn’s neck and held on as she parted her lips.
