Part 10 (1/2)

”You don't have to,” Jackie said. She felt her color rising. ”I'm... I mean, I do want to meet new people, but...” She looked at her feet. Diane was nice and probably had nice friends. ”Is your friend... a man or a woman?”

”A woman,” Diane said. ”Oh dear, have I got it wrong?” She dropped her voice. ”I know some nice men, too. Mark's brother, for instance, is a sweetheart. Nicer even than Mark but not as funny.”

Jackie laughed with relief. ”No, you got it right. I didn't know that you knew. I mean; I haven't known for that long.” She frowned. ”How did you know?”

Diane shrugged. ”I don't - oh. Now I remember. Another friend of mine said she'd met someone whose name she couldn't remember at a dance, but it was someone who worked here and was new. I a.s.sumed it was you from her description. And since she's gay, I a.s.sumed you were, too. She said you're a great dancer.”

It was Jackie's turn to blink. ”Oh, that explains it. I've been to a couple of women's dances, but it's hard to hear names over the music, much less remember them.”

”Well,” Diane said, ”I could give my ticket to my banker friend and tell her I can't go and someone I work with is going, you could just gab about art and if you didn't like each other, you wouldn't have to stress about it, you wouldn't even have to talk to each other, and it wouldn't be a date, so what do you say?” She wiggled her eyebrows encouragingly.

”I'd wouldn't mind going with you,” Jackie said. Diane continued to make encouraging faces until Jackie laughed. ”But if your banker friend is really that nice, I guess I could live if she went in your place.” She resolutely would not keep her evenings free for a mythical call from Leah that would never come.

”I'll call her this morning and see,” Diane said, with a grin. ”Back to business. The Dearborns have completely revised their dining hall ideas. Again. This is going to be the longest inn renovation on record. So guess what I need you to do?”

Jackie held out her hand for the specification sheet. ”Blueprints and elevations with HVAC. Consider it done.”

”We only have to stay a few minutes, then maybe we can go dancing,” Constance said.

”Maybe this won't be as dreary as the last one,” Leah said. ”Openings can be fun. I've been to a few that were. Well, at least one.”

”Painted Moon will be an opening to remember, darling. I'm working on getting the Sunday magazine to do a photo spread.”

”I'll do the installation as soon as you're ready for it.” Leah opened the door for Constance who swept by her with the click of high heels and a waft of Chanel Number 19. She was wearing the same dress she always wore to gallery openings - a skintight sheath that closely matched her skin tone and was painted with sequins in all the right places. An expensive fake fur dangled over one shoulder and cabuchon-cut amber dangled from her ears.

Leah followed her in more sedate black slacks and deep purple jacket - her standard festive wear. As they approached the gallery owner for the obligatory handshake and well-wishes, she whispered in Constance's ear, ”We can't go dancing with you in that get-up. You'll split a seam.”

Constance wrinkled her nose. ”You're probably right. We could go back to my place, though. I could change. Or not.” She threw a wicked smile over her shoulder.

”Connie...” Lee began wearily. She broke off to add her smile and ”Good luck,” to the owner. Even though she and Constance had agreed to be friends only, Constance still flirted with her and Leah was bothered by the mixed signals. Then they were past the receiving line and into the main gallery which was primarily occupied by sculpture.

A few pieces immediately caught Lee's eye. Constance was already deep into the room, making a beeline for a photographer Lee remembered vaguely from an exhibit several years ago. Constance must have seen something she liked - Lee recognized the signs. Photographs would be displayed in Constance's gallery, eventually.

She drifted to the exhibits that intrigued her. The gallery was filling up - definitely a success. Constance began working the crowd, something she was very good at. Leah watched her for a while, in between studying the pieces.

She came to a Jellica Frakes piece, one she hadn't seen. Oh, it was lovely - made her fingers itch. It was cast wrought iron painted white, and about four inches in diameter at the base, flowing upward about six feet to a breadth of about three feet. At the top the iron curved over and spilled downward again. The downward slope was a replica of fine lace work. In fact, it was very like a long bridal train upside down. The lace work was delicate-looking but the piece itself, Leah thought, was about deceptive strength.

She stepped back to admire it further and trod on someone's foot. The owner of the foot squawked. She spun around to apologize. ”I'm so sorry-”

She was face to face with Jackie.

Jackie's annoyed expression melted into shock. They stared at each other.

Leah had not forgotten the blue of Jackie's eyes. She had not forgotten the way her lips were shaped, or how they parted when Jackie was breathing hard.

Jackie was breathing hard.

Leah realized she was breathing hard, too. It had only taken this glance to put her right back in the kitchen at the cabin and recreate the same feelings in her body she had had then. The texture of Jackie's skin. The taste of her lips.

”I take it you two have met,” a voice said.

Leah blinked. Jackie took a deep breath like a swimmer coming up for air. Her gaze fell away and she glanced at the pet.i.te woman in a business suit who stood next to her.

”Umm, Leah this is Laurel, a friend of a friend. Laurel, this is Lee Beck, the artist.”

”Pleased to meet you,” Laurel murmured. A smile hovered around her mouth. 'I see a... piece over there I want to study, so I'll catch you later, Jackie. If I don't, say hi to Diane for me, okay?”

Jackie opened her mouth as though she wanted to ask Laurel to stay, but then merely nodded. Laurel melted into the crowd, but not before she looked at both of them again with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile.

”I got the pictures,” Leah said. ”I don't know how to thank you. I've picked up the phone once a day and words... words failed me.”

”It was nothing.”

”It was more than nothing.”

”I mean I was glad to do it. And you're welcome.” Jackie was staring at the floor and Leah couldn't stand it.

”Look at me.”

Jackie looked up and their gazes locked again. Her lips were slightly parted and they trembled slightly. Leah glanced down at the turquoise silk blouse she wore, and the short black skirt. This was the everyday Jackie, not the woman who had been stranded at her cabin in Sharla's clothes. The everyday Jackie overwhelmed Leah's nerves even more than the s...o...b..und Jackie had. Leah had not thought it possible.

Their intense stare was broken by someone jostling Leah into Jackie. She felt the warmth of Jackie's silk-clad b.r.e.a.s.t.s against her and every nerve ignited.

”It's so crowded in here,” she said weakly. ”Maybe we can find a place to talk.”

”Talk,” Jackie echoed. Leah took her by the arm and led the way to the back of the gallery. There had to be somewhere with a little privacy. She found an unlocked door at the end of a side room and propelled Jackie through it. Crates and packing materials left little floor s.p.a.ce, so they stood behind the closed door.

She turned Jackie to face her and lost all her resolve. She had wanted to be alone with Jackie and now she was. The sight of Jackie's face looking up at her-those trembling lips. She looked so vulnerable Leah was afraid to touch her. If she touched her she wasn't sure she would be able to stop again.

It was Jackie who slowly raised her hand. She slid her finger under the lapel of Leah's jacket. ”Nice jacket,” she said in a faint voice, as though she was trying to make normal conversation but her composure had failed her.

Her fingers slipped downward and released Leah's jacket. Leah caught her hand and then the distance between them was gone in a breathless moment of arms winding and bodies arching. The silk covering Jackie's back was warm and only enhanced the softness of the skin underneath. Her braid was heavy against Leah's hands. It would be so easy to slide the blouse to one side and feast on the warmth of Jackie's shoulders. She kissed the exposed curve of Jackie's throat. Jackie's breath was an indrawn hiss echoed by a tremor in her body as she pulled Leah's head down.

Leah clung to her desperately, her every intention to finish what they had begun in her kitchen. A half-step backward put Jackie's shoulders against the door. Jackie moaned through their pressed lips, arching her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s against Leah. Her arms dropped to Leah's waist, sliding under her jacket.

Leah's hands were under Jackie's skirt, caressing the smooth hips through thin pantyhose. Still she kissed Jackie, her tongue exploring the welcoming mouth, inviting exploration in return.

Jackie's knees buckled and only the pressure of Leah against her kept her from sliding to the floor. Leah slipped her leg between Jackie's, suddenly aware that they were reaching a point of no return in a semi-public place.

She broke their kiss, leaving Jackie gasping. ”I want to be with you,” she murmured in Jackie's ear. ”I mean it. But not here.”

Jackie turned her head to one side. ”I know. I want to.” Her voice was barely audible. ”I don't want you to stop. But I feel like I'm going to pa.s.s out. I want you to make love to me.” She pressed her forehead into Leah's shoulder.

Leah held her until Jackie stood up on her own and raised her head. ”It's overwhelming,” she whispered. ”Nothing else matters.”

”I know,” Leah said. She smiled and traced the corner of Jackie's mouth with her thumb.