Too Close to Touch (13 page)

Apparently it was, because Mick studied her as she chewed. “What is it about her?”

“About who? Post OfÞ ce Chick?”

• 93 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“About Gretchen.”

Kylie shifted uncomfortably, looked down, and began Þ ddling with her own sandwich. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?” Kylie’s protest sounded too vehement to her own ears. She wanted to run as fast and as far from this conversation as she could.

“Of the fact that she left with Jori.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She felt Mick’s green eyes boring into her, but she refused to look up and kept eating, despite the fact that her stomach threatened to protest. What the hell was wrong with her?

“She’s your boss, Ky. You get that, right? Nothing can happen.

You’d get Þ red.”

Kylie did look at Mick then, her eyes blazing a warning to end this discussion.

“I’m only saying this for your own good,” Mick went on. “I’ve known you for more than twenty years and I can certainly tell what’s going on in that head of yours. Why you insist on trying to hide it from me, I have no idea.”

Kylie averted her gaze, denying Mick eye contact. It was the only weapon she had.
Pathetic
, she thought.

“The rumor mill has it that she got her last assistant Þ red when she was at Kaplan.”

Kylie whipped around to glare at her best friend. “Maybe she was unhappy with her assistant’s competence, Mick.”

“Maybe she was fucking her assistant, Kylie,” Mick shot back.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t believe this.”

Mick held up her hands in surrender. “Look, I’m not saying that’s what happened. I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”

Kylie rolled her tongue around in her mouth, her anger building.

“You know, you ask what it is about Gretchen for me. What about you?

What’s your deal with her? First, you’re sure she’s a big, lying closet case pretending to be straight. Now you think she was sleeping with her employees at her last job? Make up your mind, Mick.”

Mick took another bite of her sandwich and offered no response.

They were both quiet for a long while. When Kylie had cooled down, she took a deep breath and said, “I would just prefer that Jori

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TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

not suck her in and fuck her over like she does to every other woman she dates. I like Gretchen and I don’t want that to happen to her. Okay?

That’s all.”

Mick nodded and spoke just as softly. “And all I’m saying is, you don’t know that Gretchen’s not just like Jori.”

It was true. Kylie hated to admit it, but there it was. What did she know about Gretchen, after all?
Not nearly enough
, a little voice whispered.

“I hate Þ ghting with you,” Mick said. “Can we just call a truce?

Please?”

Kylie exhaled with quiet relief. “I don’t want to Þ ght with you either. Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?”

“Deal.”

They ate in silence for several minutes. Predictably, Mick couldn’t sustain that.

“Hey, what do you have going this weekend? Want to do something?”

“Sure,” Kylie answered absently. Hanging out with Mick was always a good time. “I need to yank that shrub out in front of my house.

Maybe we could do that, and then I’ll cook you dinner.”

“And we can get a movie.”

Kylie smiled. “Okay.”

v

When Kylie returned to work, Gretchen was up and out of her chair, pacing around her ofÞ ce and ß ipping through a binder. It was such a change from her earlier demeanor that Kylie stopped in her tracks and stared for several seconds before poking her head in the door.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

When Gretchen looked up, she was smiling widely. Kylie noticed for the Þ rst time that Gretchen had high, chiseled cheekbones and gorgeous, perfectly straight teeth. Gretchen crossed her ofÞ ce to the doorway and astonished Kylie by lightly pinching her cheek.

“Ms. O’Brien, things are starting to look up. They’re deÞ nitely starting to look up.”

Gretchen’s giddiness was contagious and, in seconds, Kylie was also smiling, her face still tingling where Gretchen had touched it. “Tell me.”

• 95 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“Sarah Stevenson has a huge appointment next week in Albany.

I’m going to drive down there and see the client with her. And Jeff Carson’s got one that’s almost as big in his neck of the woods.” Her smile lit up the ofÞ ce. “They’re getting off their asses, Kylie. See? I told you. They’re cranking it up. All they needed was a kick in the pants.”

The phone rang before Kylie could respond and she picked up the extension in her cubicle.

“Gretchen Kaiser’s ofÞ ce. This is Kylie. May I help you?”

“God, you’ve got a sexy phone voice.”

Instead of being happy to hear the greeting from her old friend, Kylie felt her spirits deß ate. “Hey, Jori. How’re you doing? Still in town, huh?”

“For at least a few more weeks. Hey, we need to get together. You, me, and Mick. And maybe Gretchen would want to come. You think?”

I’d rather stick needles in my eyes
. “Sure, sounds great.”

“Cool. Is she there?”

“Yeah. Hang on.” She buzzed Gretchen. “Jori’s on the line.”

“Oh, great,” Gretchen replied. “Put her through.”

As the call was transferred, Gretchen closed her door. Kylie deliberately turned away from Gretchen’s windows. She didn’t want to see her talking to Jori, all smiles and good news, and it bothered her that she felt that way. She was glad Gretchen had shut the door, yet at the same time, she was hurt. She didn’t want to hear the conversation, but she felt excluded and resented it. She picked up the handset to her phone and rapped herself in the forehead with it.

“Jesus,” she muttered. “What am I, twelve?”

v

Saturday’s weather was crappy. The temperature was chilly and it rained on and off all day long, creating a dampness in the air that sent Kylie looking for a sweatshirt.

“Don’t like the weather in Rochester?” she mumbled, pulling the dark green shirt over her head. “Just hang out for a minute. It’ll change.”

The sound of tools against porcelain rang through the upstairs of her little house. She grabbed a Corona from the refrigerator, pushed a wedge of lime into the opening, then plugged it with her thumb and

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TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

turned it upside down to move the lime down into the beer, just as Mick had taught her. Taking her own Diet Coke from the counter, she headed up to the source of the noise.

“Here you go,” she said, holding the beer out to Mick, who was elbow-deep in the tank of her toilet. “A reward for all your hard work.”

Mick took the bottle, her green eyes crinkling with gratitude.

“There’s nothing better than a beautiful woman bringing me a beer.

Life is good.”

After a quick swig, she went right back to work and Kylie pulled herself up onto the vanity to watch. She was always amazed that Mick just knew how to Þ x things. She just
knew
, like it was in her blood or something. Kylie was sure she could learn how to Þ x things, too, but Mick was always offering and it seemed to make her feel good when she could repair something for Kylie. So, more often than not, Kylie took her up on her offers.

Despite the chill in the air, sweat beaded across Mick’s upper lip.

Her red T-shirt was clinging to her and Kylie admired the muscular build of her torso, not for the Þ rst time. The veins in her forearms stood out prominently and she exuded pure strength. It was a quality of Mick’s that often sent a bit of an erotic tingle up Kylie’s spine; all that power tended to make her mouth go dry. She took a swig of her pop.

The ends of Mick’s brown hair were also dampened with sweat and Kylie smiled fondly at the sprinkling of gray that was visible. Had they really known each other for over two decades? Were they really old enough to be getting gray hair?

Mick caught her gaze and narrowed her eyes playfully. “What are you grinning at?”

“Your gray.”

“Forty’s just around the corner, babe. For both of us.”

“Hey, I think gray can be sexy.”

“Says the blonde whose gray can barely be seen.”

“That’s because I don’t have any,” Kylie teased.

“Bullshit.”

Kylie laughed. Mick was right. Kylie affectionately referred to her hair stylist as the Hair Goddess. She’d subtly introduced highlighting into Kylie’s regular hair-maintenance routine so the encroaching gray was covered before anybody noticed. Except Mick.

“You know all my secrets. It’s unfair.”

• 97 •

GEORGIA BEERS

Mick gave a Þ nal twist and sat back on her heels. “There. That ought to do it.” She cranked the water back on and waited while the toilet Þ lled. Once full, it stopped and sat silently. She and Kylie looked at each other.

“It’s not running!” Kylie was happy but not surprised.

“No, it’s not.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Told you I could Þ x it.” She stood up and brushed her hands on her pants.

Kylie threw her arms around Mick’s neck, standing on her toes to do so. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t let it get around.” Mick hugged her, humming a soft sound of pleasure that buzzed at Kylie’s ear. Kylie began to ease her grip, but Mick held tightly for several more seconds before letting her go.

“You get yourself cleaned up and I’ll go get dinner started,” Kylie ordered. “Okay?”

“Sounds good.”

In the doorway of the bathroom, Kylie turned back. “Hey, Mick?”

Mick looked at her expectantly. “Thanks.”

Mick’s smile was Þ lled with warmth. “For you? Anything.”

v

Later on, their stomachs were full of pork chops, potatoes, and green beans. Mick put a DVD into the player and Kylie brought two mugs of coffee into the living room.

Plopping down on the well-worn couch, she said, “Did you have enough to eat?”

“Good God. If I ate here every night, I’d weigh three hundred pounds.” Mick had taken a quick shower and donned the clean Tshirt and jeans she’d brought in a duffel bag. She still had a few damp tendrils of hair around her ears and it made her seem younger than her thirty-seven years.

“Well, I made an extra pork chop, so I’ll wrap it up for you and you can take it home and eat it tomorrow or take it for lunch next week.”

“Great. Thanks.” Mick gestured at the wicker basket Þ lled with dog toys that Kylie hadn’t had the heart to pack away. “You thinking about a puppy yet?”

Kylie sighed. “I don’t know. Not yet. A little more time, I think.”

• 98 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

She had just reached a point where she could enter her house after work and not burst into tears over the painful absence of Rip. She needed a few more weeks before she could entertain the idea of replacing him.

Mick nodded. “Let me know. I’ll help you look.”

They hunkered down into the cushions and started the movie, propping their feet on the coffee table as always, enjoying one another’s presence. It was nice to be single but not feel alone, Kylie decided. It was comforting to have a friend like Mick—somebody who knew her well and was low maintenance—to have dinner with or watch a movie with, somebody she could have deep conversations with or sit with in total, easy silence.
Not that I wouldn’t enjoy some company in my bed
once in a while.
She grimaced. She’d been on her own for quite some time now, and she was starting to feel the empty space left in her heart slowly growing. Rip’s loss certainly didn’t help.

Mick interrupted Kylie’s reverie by patting her own thigh without taking her eyes from the movie. Kylie obeyed the wordless command, shifting her body and putting her left foot in Mick’s lap. Her attention never leaving the TV, Mick pulled off Kylie’s sock and began a slow, Þ rm massaging. Her large hands were so strong, her Þ ngers adept at Þ nding just the right places to press and rub, Kylie could barely keep from groaning out loud.

She suspected Mick actually liked massaging her, as she offered the treat quite regularly. Kylie had made a pact with herself, however, never to give voice to just how much
she
enjoyed it. She and Mick talked about a lot of things, from politics to money to sex, but she refused to let Mick in on the fact that her foot massages were highly erotic. Right now, Kylie could barely keep from squirming, but the fact that she was grinding her behind into the couch cushions was her own business entirely and no more than the by-product of too many nights alone.

Face it,
the little voice hissed,
you haven’t been laid in almost a
year. Any contact will get your juices ß owing
. Once again, she wished she was the kind of woman who could participate in casual sex—just have sex for the sake of having sex and getting off. It would certainly help scratch the seemingly constant itch she felt lately. If she’d been built that way, she knew for a fact she could take Mick by the hand and lead her to the bedroom. Or hell, jump her right here on the couch.

Mick could do casual sex; she often did, and made sure to Þ ll Kylie in on all the dirty, intimate details the next morning.

• 99 •

GEORGIA BEERS

But Kylie had never been able to sleep with somebody she wasn’t in love with, and though she loved Mick with all her heart, she didn’t love her like
that.
She sighed.
Which is too bad for both of us.

Mick’s voice interrupted her again and she was surprised to see that the movie had been paused without her noticing. “Did you see the paper this morning?”

Kylie blinked, trying to orient herself and pull away from her previous train of thought. “Um, no. I didn’t have a chance.”

“Home Depot has garbage disposals on sale. Good prices. We should grab one and get it installed for you. Yank out that piece of crap you have now.”