Madam of Maple Court (14 page)

Sex. Hot, sweaty sex, the kind of sex she read about in erotic novels. Did it really exist? It must, since books, magazines, TV dramas, movies, and uncountable talk shows devoted so much time to helping people to achieve it. She hadn't had any good sex since the early days with Vin. Now she was thinking that it might change, and she was excited about it.

Would Gary open up this new sexual world for her? She had no idea, but slowly she realized that she was becoming more and more curious about what that world might contain.
Patience
, she cautioned herself,
just go out there and see what's what. Meet people, have dates, and let the rest take care of itself
.

Gary seemed to be a really nice man, with a deep love of his children and an easy friendship with his ex-wife. He had explained that he didn't want Pam to meet his girls because he attempted to keep a separation between the sections of his life. At first he'd introduced his daughters to his lady friends, he explained to her, but eventually, when the women faded, the girls had been disappointed because they'd grown attached. Now he never invited a woman he was dating to do anything with his children. Pam regretted that. She would have enjoyed being with children and maybe, for a short time, she could get a taste of what she'd been missing.

On their third date, she and Gary went to a different comedy club in lower Manhattan. The entertainment was mediocre but the conversation on the way home in the car was enlightening. On the way down they'd made small talk and there had been little chance for conversation during the performance. So, when the last comedian had finished, they retrieved her car from the garage and she maneuvered through the traffic across Canal Street. "Tell me a little about yourself," he said. "Only child?"

"Does it show that much?"

"In some ways, yes. You're pretty independent and a pretty strong person. Did you know that the original seven astronauts were all either onlies or oldests? They make the best organizers, and you seem to me to be like that, too. Are your parents still around?"

"I'm sorry to say no. They died several years ago. They were older when I was born and after Mom died of breast cancer my father followed quickly of a heart attack. I think he stopped living when she died and it was just a matter of his body catching up."

"Are you sorry you never had children?"

She turned toward the Henry Hudson Parkway northbound, using the need to avoid other drivers as a moment in which to gather her thoughts. "I've always wanted kids and my parents wanted grandchildren, but it wasn't meant to be, I
guess. What about you? Parents? Brothers and sisters? You don't sound like a born and bred New Yorker."

"I'm originally from Kansas, believe it or not."

"Kansas? Corn fields? That's quite a switch from farms to high-rises."

"Not as much as you might think. We were business types, not farmers. My family came over from Sweden when I was a baby and we all spoke both Swedish and English at home. When I was a little kid I was never sure whether the words I used were English or not. When the kids in the neighborhood teased me, however, I learned quickly.

"My folks had saved for many years before they came here, and when they arrived they bought a small mom-and-pop grocery. They were forced to close it down a few years ago when Wal-Mart and Shop-Rite arrived in town."

"I'm sorry," Pam said, steering around a minivan. "That must have been tough."

"Not really. They were ready to retire. I was long gone, and neither my brother nor my sister was interested in running the store even before the competition made that impossible."

"Brother and sister still back in Kansas?"

"Yup. Karen's been married and divorced three times. She's got three boys, one by each husband. It's been tough for her, juggling who goes where for what holiday. That's part of what's made me so careful with my girls. I see how troubled her boys are, not knowing who's what in their lives. Each time they get settled as a family they're jounced out of their security again. It's made them suspicious of any man they meet and that made me crazy about not upsetting my kids the same way."

She'd always envied families but she didn't envy Gary's sister and her brood. "I can imagine."

"My parents are the only constants in the kids' lives. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I guess it's the price you pay for being a good listener."

"How about your brother?"

"He owns a small insurance agency in the same town in which I grew up. He married his high school sweetheart and they've got four kids. He and Sue have been married almost fifteen years and I think by now they cohabit more than love each other."

It was funny that Gary should use that word. She'd begun to think she and Vin had been cohabiting for the past few years as well.
Maybe more people do that than have really good relationships. Maybe it is an inevitable result of a couple's knowing each other too well
"Did you have a good childhood?"

"Really good. We all helped in the store and, although I complained bitterly, I enjoyed stocking shelves. I had something to show for my work when I was done, even if it was only neat rows of cans of peas and an empty box. That's not so true for me anymore."

"Why not?" Pam asked as she drove beneath the George Washington Bridge.

"What I do doesn't ever get 'done.' I do some private work, like I did for you, but most of my firm's business is corporate. I go into an international corporation and show them how to beef up their security, both personally and in their paper and computer systems. They read my recommendations and sometimes they implement some, seldom all of them. What I suggest is time consuming and deducts from their bottom line, so they hem and haw and do the items that don't cost too much. When things go wrong, and they do more often than not, they call me back, complain, then sometimes see the error of their ways and we go back and help them put through the hard parts."

"Sounds frustrating."

"It is, a little. We've got several jobs going at the moment, all over the world."

She glanced over and watched his face, alternately illuminated by overhead lights and shrouded in darkness. "Like where?"

"We have projects going in Sweden, Russia, India, and Brazil right now."

"Wow. What about languages? It sounds like you and your staff have to speak Swedish, Russian, Spanish, and whatever they speak in India."

"Actually, Brazil speaks Portuguese, and India speaks so many languages that it's difficult to work without a translator. I hire people who are fluent in the ones I think I'll need and I have a running account at Berlitz. Most computer systems can be set up to speak English until we're ready for implementation. Then we can switch to whatever the locals speak. I'm the Swedish expert and I speak a smattering of several more languages, enough to get along as long as things don't get too complicated."

She exited the highway onto the side streets in Riverdale, stopped in front of Gary's building. Without warning, he reached over and shifted the car into Park, then cupped her head in his hands and kissed her. It was a revelation. Heat! She hadn't felt it for many years, the lava-flowing, all-consuming heat of a passionate kiss. She felt her knees shake and, despite her trembling hands, she stroked his hair and kissed him back. His tongue requested entrance and she parted her lips. Her breath caught in her throat and her pulse pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear.

The kiss lasted for long moments, each drowning in the other. Finally he sat back. "Toni and Peter are taking the girls away next weekend. How about coming to my place for a drink on Saturday, then we'll find someplace for dinner?"

She didn't fool herself. She knew what going to his place meant, and it excited and aroused her. "That sounds wonderful," she said, trying to pull herself back into the here and now from the breathless place her mind had reeled to.

"Yes, it does, doesn't it." He slipped out of the car and through his front door.

On Friday afternoon Marcy called. "Pam, I've got a lead for you. Rob Sherwood of Forest Technology is looking for a place to hold an end-of-summer party for about fifty people, mostly guys from out of town." She gave Pam the tentative date. "I thought of you but didn't want to say anything to him until I checked it out. Interested?"

"I'd certainly like to learn more." She'd had some discussions with people recommended by folks from the Banner party but nothing was definite yet. This would get her operation off the ground, and if all went well he might be the source of some more corporate work.

"Shall I have him call you or would you prefer to call him? If you make the call, I won't have to give out your number until you're sure what you want to do."

"Why don't I contact him directly rather than put you in the middle?"

"That would be great," Marcy said. "He's a great guy and has lots of friends who might be interested in using your place as well. You have to understand one thing before you sign up, however. He sometimes hires a few of my ladies to mingle with his visiting guests."

"Mingle. That's a new name for it," she said with a giggle. She'd be housing hookers. Did it matter? She considered it seriously and couldn't get too upset about it. It didn't matter, not really. Any guy at the Banner wedding, or any of Vin's parties for that matter, could have brought someone like that and she'd have never known. Actually, any of the women could have as well. The more she thought about Marcy's business, the less opposed she'd become. "That's okay as long as no one in my neighborhood knows anything."

"That goes without saying. Let me give you his number and then I'll call him so he'll expect a phone all from you."

Marcy hesitated. "Let me give you something to think about from the get-go. People from his group, those who are being 'entertained,' will know where you live. We've never had a problem here at Club Fantasy, but we're also very careful not to give out any home information. Most of my calls, at least the initial ones, are made on prepaid cell phones so no one can get any information from caller ID. And, of course, Rock lives here and he's a formidable presence."

"Rock?"

"He's the bouncer, greeter, and general factotum. He's also a black belt in several martial arts and looks it. No one would ever consider messing with Rock."

"I understand, but I've got to find some way to earn a living and this is something I'm good at." She sighed. "I'm well into my thirties and I've never held a job, never earned a cent myself before Grace Banner gave me that check."

"You've worked with your charities and all. All that experience must equip you for lots of things."

"I've done lots of things, but what I've been doing doesn't amount to a marketable skill, at least not anything entry level, and anyway, entry level doesn't pay much. I don't type, I don't have computer skills more than using our spreadsheets and finding what I want on the Internet so I can make calls to donors. I've pored over newspapers and surfed employment sites on the Net. I haven't yet found an ad for a faux rich woman to help run a large company at an exorbitant salary. This party business is something I can do for starters. Maybe I can make contacts with places that might hire an in-house cruise director."

Marcy's laugh was welcome. "I think you're underrating yourself, but I do see your point. Okay, let's see what happens with this guy." She paused, then with a joke in her voice, she added, "Of course, you could always come to work for me. I could get you lots of visitors at exorbitant rates."

Pam huffed out a breath. "Me? That's silly. I've never even done any sexual experimentation. What would I know about giving good head, anal sex, or being a dominatrix?"

"It's not all kinky sex by any means, and I don't entertain, just evaluate, something I think you'd be good at. Most of what I do entails charm, intelligence, the ability to make men feel comfortable. You've got all that. You're the kind of woman men want to protect, but with a sensuality beneath that men would really respond to."

"Stop the kidding, Marcy. I know you think you're serious, but be real."

"I am, but right now you don't want to hear it and that's fine. I'll drop it. But don't think I won't bring it up again from time to time."

Yeah, right.

As Marcy had suggested, she waited a few hours, then called the number she'd been given. She considered buying one of those prepaid phones Marcy had mentioned but decided that just calling a businessman to have a discussion about a party wasn't anything dangerous.

As she dialed, she found she was nervous. Hookers or not, this might be the beginning of a new business venture and she wanted to make a good impression. "Mr. Sherwood? It's Pam DePalma. Marcy Bryant told you I'd be calling."

"Of course, but can we dispense with the last names?" His voice was deep and pleasant. "I'm Rob. May I call you Pam?"

"Certainly." She tried to think of her next sentence, but Rob saved her the trouble.

"Marcy told me your house would be perfect for my get-together. She told me quite a bit about it, including the wonderful grounds. You've even got a heated pool and a hot tub, I gather."

Marcy had never seen her house, so she had obviously trusted Pam's description. "I do, and it's lovely this time of year. Lots of things are in bloom. A few of the late azaleas and lilacs are still gorgeous and the rhododendrons are fabulous. My rose garden is my pride and joy. I think you'll like the place. Would you like to come up and see it before making a decision?"

"That would be prudent, I guess. That way we can discuss things person to person. Would Sunday work for you? Say about three?"

"That would be perfect. Do you have a car or should I plan to pick you up at the train station?"

"I have a car so I'll drive, but I understand you're pretty close to the station for the folks who'll be coming up that way."

"It's only a short cab ride. For some of the parties I threw for my husband, we hired several local off-duty taxi drivers to be available just for our guests. They dressed in polo shirts we had made and it looked like a fleet of specially selected cars."