Page 22 of Vistaria Has Fallen
Joshua rested his briefcase on the bonnet of the silver Chevy Cavalier and leaned on it, thinking hard. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Another thoughtful silence. “Jesus Maria...” Joshua breathed. “He reallydoeshave feelers out everywhere.”
“The army calls himel leopardo rojo.”
“Yes, I just made the connection.” Joshua frowned. “Although I wouldn’t go around blurting that out to anyone, Calli.” His brow smoothed. “It’s good to know we have friends in high places. It confirms they’re working to support us. With the problems I get handed every day, I sometimeswondered.” He patted her shoulder. “Thanks for telling me.” He got into the car and drove away.
Calli stood on the narrow, cobbled street, watching the Chevy twist around the hairpin bend twenty yards down the hill and disappear.
The conversation had cheered Josh. Perversely, Calli felt more uneasy than ever.
I want to live in your mind, at least.His voice curled through her thoughts.
Hadhe really believed she could dismiss him when his face was plastered on the front page of the national newspaper? Yet, gut instinct told her his intention had been to linger in her memories at a far more personal level.
The image from her dream, her thigh over his hip, his hand on her skin, hot and demanding, slipped into her thoughts.Thatwas what he had meant.
Why her?Why?When no otherman had raised so much as an eyebrow in her direction for five years? More? She was a dusty, ill-used thirty-something woman well on her way to becoming a rusty, disused old spinster set in her ways, entrenched in academia and teaching dry economics until she retired.
Why me?And why him?
It was beyond comprehension.
It was all theory, anyway. He had made that clear last night. Nothing wouldever come of it. He was as untouchable as she had suspected.
She went back inside, blinking in the dimness of the apartment after the brilliant sunshine outside and asked Minnie to take her shopping again. She would need something sexy to wear tonight if she wanted get herself laid.
* * * * *
“You know, you really are a knockout,” Peter said. “Joshua said you scrubbed up well. I think he wasbeing conservative.”
Calli smiled mechanically and swallowed another mouthful of the dry, overcooked steak. This was the third time Peter had told her what a knockout she was. It didn’t sound any better with repeating. Although, his need to please her added points in his favor.
She had surreptitiously checked off other criteria throughout the evening. His breath smelled sweet. He had no discernablebody odor. Clean hands, a nice white smile and a small bonus—tight buttocks beneath the dark business suit. He stood half an inch shorter than her, which she could overlook for now. In bed, the height difference would be no difference at all.
The absolute lack of any appeal he had for her was a drawback. He had light brown hair, brown eyes, nicely tanned skin to go with the white smile and heclearly worked to maintain his body. There was nothing wrong with him, yet nothing sparked her interest.
He had picked her up at the apartment right on time. She walked out the door knowing she looked as beddable as it was possible for her to get. Minnie had worked all afternoon to ensure Peter got the right impression.
Minnie had somehow intuited Calli’s intentions, for she discarded variousoptions, settling on an appearance she pronounced with her arms crossed as, “totally fuckable, honey.”
Calli’s dress was stretch lace. The halter top had a vee-neck that ended low between her breasts. There was no back to it. The dress dipped to where the indentation of Calli’s spine flattened over the back of her hips. It had no lining. Her skin showed through the lace, except for a nearly invisibleflesh-colored panel of elastic that covered her breasts and supported them. The skirt hugged her hips. The elastic fabric gave her flexibility, while the dress clung to her. The hem stopped several inches short of her knees.
Minnie insisted she wear the tallest shoes they could find, a black pair with ankle straps. Her hair was piled on top of her head and held with dozens of pins. Wisps fellaround her face. Minnie also directed the application of her makeup. Red lips, red toenails, and gold hoop earrings. Minnie could do nothing about Calli’s work-worn fingernails other than file them and paint them.
Calli looked in the mirror and frowned. “Don’t you think it’s a bit subtle?” she asked Minnie. “I should wear a mini skirt and thigh high leather boots or something. This looks...”
“Sensual,” Minnie declared.
“I want to say ‘sex’ not ‘sensual’.”
“Do you want good sex or ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’?”
Calli pursed her lips. Minnie did know more about this than her, after all. Yet Calli didn’t want to play a slow game of subtle seduction. She wanted to have sex, then she could move on with her life.
“Believe me, sensual will get you good sex,” Minnie added. “If a man understandsthe difference between the two, then he knows how to please a woman in bed. If Peter doesn’t understand it, he doesn’t deserve you. Besides, if you did walk into Ashcroft’s wearing a mini skirt and leather boots you’d be arrested for prostitution. They’re very conservative here.”