Part 9 (1/2)
Well, h.e.l.l, she thought. This could be more than a wham, bam, roll in the hay. Give it time, Helen. Let love happen. Sometimes love prevails.
”You're a scary old broad, Martha,” Helen said.
”And you're a thief. Dudley Moore. Arthur. Right?”
Helen stuck out her tongue and pulled the comforter to their necks. Cory leaned into her shoulder. Within a loving embrace, they were ready for sleep.
”To h.e.l.l with the Queen's rules. You'll be my knight,” she said just before she dozed off.
Cory looked up at her. ”And you my lady.”
Softly, they kissed. Soundly, Helen slept.
Chapter Ten.
Although she hadn't the power to resist Cory's charm, Helen had the decency to wake up in her own bed on Monday morning. Thoughts of Cory, and not visions of Jodie Foster, encouraged a smile that hustled her happily into a new week. There was a column to write, a meeting with Stacey on Wednesday, and a Friday dinner and theater date with her very own concert pianist.
Dressed, ready to make her entrance into a new week, Helen looked at Chelsea's photo. A twinge of guilt tugged her heart, but tears no longer fell.
”I like Cory,” she said to the photo. ”I'll never forget you, but I want this change in my life.” She removed the photo from the frame and placed it inside an old picture alb.u.m. She dropped the frame into the garbage and headed out for the day.
Her week at the office proved full speed ahead. On Wednesday, the hour neared five p.m., and she'd just completed the editing on her newest submission, when her private line rang.
”h.e.l.lo,” she said.
”Good morning, Ms. Townsend. I'm taking a survey on your activities from Sunday afternoon,” Cory said, business-like. ”If you choose to partic.i.p.ate, the questions will take only a few minutes.”
Helen laughed softly. ”Okay, shoot.”
”On a scale of one to five, with five as the best answer, how would you rate my ability not to grab the controls of the airplane and drop us out of the sky?”
”That's a seven, easily. You were the consummate overachiever.”
”Question number two: If you hadn't made love with me, would you have the longing with you daily?”
In truth, she'd felt naughty when Cory outright said she wanted to sleep with her. Naughty in a nice way. Naughty in an I'm-so-glad-you-told-me-so-I-wouldn't-embarra.s.s-myself-by-jumping-your-bones kind of way. Yes, she would have given plenty of thought to sleeping with her, but Cory didn't need to know that.
”I'd give that question a low four.”
”Hmm. My plane paralysis gets a better rating, huh?”
”Courage is much more admirable than l.u.s.t.”
Cory exaggerated a sigh. ”I think that places me somewhere between the Cowardly Lion and the Mayflower Madam.”
”You could do worse. Are you in Lansing?”
”Just arrived at my hotel. There was a message waiting from Liz, my manager. I've been asked to guest conduct the Toronto Symphony on Thursday and Friday.”
Helen frowned. ”Oh. Toronto sounds like a nice addition to your Boston resume.” That response was more appropriate than ”What about our date?” She was disappointed, but there was no reason to rush their relations.h.i.+p any more than they had.
”I'll be home Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Can we plan something for that evening?”
”Sure. Give me a call.” She looked at the clock on her computer. ”I'm heading over to Stacey's for supper. Have fun tonight.”
”Thanks. We'll talk soon.”
Their conversation had ended and Helen looked forward to planning a party.
Stacey stretched onto her sofa. ”I can't guarantee a hundred people, but I know of a few who will come to your s.h.i.+ndig.” She bounced a Nerf ball from Warhol's silkscreen of Ingrid Bergman.
”It's a start,” Helen said. ”Maybe word of mouth will bring in a few more.”
”I like the idea of a variety show, and there we have it. Party planned.” Stacey sat up and threw the ball at Helen. ”Now tell me about Cory.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
”Uh, what about her?”
”You've had these cute little smiles pop up all during our conversation and I think Chamberlain is the cause of them.”
Helen took a breath. She'd thought Stacey would have missed those moments when Cory snuck into her mind. Was it the moment when she remembered having her b.r.e.a.s.t.s ma.s.saged while Cory nuzzled between her legs? Or was it the time Cory's tongue moved slowly down Helen's back? Her hormones stirred at both thoughts; she smiled again and then looked at Stacey.
”We spent some time together this past weekend. We went flying.”
”Uh-huh. Maybe you did, but I think you got laid, too.” She laughed and childishly stomped her feet on the floor when Helen didn't respond. ”You did! Oh my G.o.d, this is wonderful. No more Chelsea.”
Helen shook her head in disbelief of her actions, somewhat embarra.s.sed. ”I barely know her and I didn't try very hard to say no.”
”It didn't kill you. You're consenting adults and s.e.x is fun. Are you two an item?”
”I want to see more of her. We'd made plans for Friday, but already she's had to cancel. It makes me wonder if that's how our relations.h.i.+p would be.”
”Maybe that's her bug. Her schedule is crazy, but if you can pin her down, I think you're in for a treat. She's always been among my favorite people, and no, I've never slept with her.”
”That's good to know. All right, no more talk of her.” She threw the ball back at Stacey. ”We've agreed on food and alcohol, so keep me posted if your friends bail and I'll try to come up with another idea.”
Stacey walked her to the door. ”I love you, Blondie,” she said. ”I'm so glad you've shed your mourning clothes.”
”Me, too. Both of those.”
Chapter Eleven.