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“Yeah, well, Pete Baumgartner got a D in her fourth-grade English class and he’s had it in for her ever since. Maybe she did see Big Foot eating out of her trash can.”
Jason threw his head back in laughter.
Sara loved seeing him like this, with his guard down and supremely relaxed.
Those whiskey-colored eyes of his were so enticing at these moments. But it was his mouth that had been her undoing from the beginning of their relationship. She couldn’t look at it with its sensual lines without wanting to know how it would feel to be kissed by him. Once her lips had touched his she couldn’t resist wanting to kiss him again and again. Just the thought of kissing him aroused her.
His laughter under control, he met her eyes across the table. Placing his knife and fork in his plate, he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, dropped it onto the plate, and got to his feet. “Are you finished?” he asked softly.
Sara tipped her head back slightly in order not to break eye contact. “Yes.”
The pulse in her neck thumped excitedly. She’d already put her utensils and napkin in her plate. Now, she sat there almost primly, looking up at him.
They had not made love in more than two weeks. Ever since the night he’d proposed. Unfortunately, all of their present problems stemmed from that night. If he wanted her again maybe he had decided to forgive her for turning him down.
Jason went to her and held out his hand to her. Sara placed it in his and he slowly drew her to her feet and pulled her into his arms. She tipped her head back, anticipating his kiss.
She closed her eyes as his face descended toward hers but quickly opened them again when she felt his lips on her forehead instead of on her mouth.
Jason smiled warmly at her as he straightened up. “It’s getting late, and we both have to get up early. I’ll walk you to your car.”
Sara schooled her features. She would not let him see how much his rejection had wounded her. If emotional detachment were his objective she would show him how it was done.
“You’re so right,” she said, her tone eminently reasonable. “I’ll just get my jacket.” She hadn’t bothered to bring her shoulder bag inside. It was locked in the car. Her car keys were in the pocket of her jacket.
He was still holding her by the arms. She turned her back to him, breaking his hold. Walking to the coat tree near the back door, she grabbed her jacket and put it on.
They walked side by side through the house to the front door where Jason opened the door for her and followed her outside. Sara peered up at the sky once they had descended the steps that led to the stone circular driveway.
“Thanks for a lovely evening,” she said when they were standing in front of the Mustang. The tension between them was palpable. Sara fought the urge to throw herself into his arms and beg him to forgive her.
Jason didn’t dare touch her again because he was on fire with the desire to make love to her. He was only a man. But he had his pride. He wouldn’t make love to a woman who didn’t love him enough to marry him. He’d said he was easy, but he wasn’t stupid. This was a war of wills and he was going to be the victor. No. He didn’t want her to come crawling back to him, begging him to forgive her. But even if he had to take cold showers every night and run ten miles each day, he would not take her to bed until this matter was settled between them.
And the only way that was going to happen was if she said yes to his proposal.
That was his final decision.
However, as he gazed into her upturned face, her almond-shaped eyes golden in the bright moonlight, and her mouth looking especially inviting, he knew he was going to suffer mightily for his convictions.
Sara had been watching him while he wrestled with his thoughts. She could guess what was going on behind those hooded eyes of his, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that she would emerge victorious in this test of wills.
But just so he knew what he was fighting for, she tiptoed, grabbed him and kissed him soundly. Jason, caught off guard, thought of breaking it off but her mouth felt so good on his he immediately capitulated.
He held her firmly against him. Her arms went around his neck. His hands molded her shapely body to his, moving downward until they rested on her firm buttocks. Their bodies pressed closer together as they hungrily sought the temporary satisfaction a kiss afforded. As soon as Sara felt his manhood growing hard against her belly, she withdrew her tongue from his mouth and disengaged herself from his embrace. “I’d better go. Don’t want to keep you from your bed.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp, and reached for the door’s handle.
Jason calmly stepped aside and let her get behind the wheel of the Mustang.
“I know that it seems like I’m sending mixed signals, Sara,” he said, “but I’m having a hard time knowing exactly how to handle this situation. Do we go on as if nothing has happened between us and continue making love? Or would it be better to call a moratorium on sex until we know where we’re going? I don’t know the best course so I’m winging it.”
“Let’s just agree on the last choice, all right?” Sara said as she started the car. “It might do us both good to be celibate for a while. But don’t play with me, Jason. I didn’t turn down your proposal because I wanted to hurt you. I had a very good reason for doing it. I can’t tell you that reason right now. No amount of psychological blackmail on your part is going to get your answers any quicker. Believe it or not I’m trying to do the honorable thing here.”
Jason was shaking his head in the negative. “You’re killing me with all this secretive crap. If you trusted me, you would be able to tell me anything. If you don’t trust me, then you don’t love me. It’s as simple as that.”
“Nothing’s as simple as that!” Sara cried. “The fact is, Jason Bryant, you’re a spoiled brat who doesn’t really know how the world works. You think you’re sophisticated because you were a hotshot attorney and therefore you’ve seen it all. But, believe me, you need years of maturing before you’ll be truly enlightened. Good night!”
With that, she put the car in Drive, hit the accelerator, and sped out of his driveway.
Chapter 4
“Sara, darn it, slow down. What is the matter with you this morning? You know I don’t have the legs of a gazelle, like you do. Mine are more like a Dachshund’s!” Frannie protested as they set off on their jog the next morning.
Sara ran in place a few seconds while Frannie caught up with her. She smiled at the comical sight Frannie made with her abundance of black frizzy hair done up on top of her head. She resembled one of those toy trolls people liked to keep on their desks.
“Nothing’s the matter with me,” she said. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“You’re running as if the hounds of hell are after you,” Frannie told her. Beside Sara now, she peered up into her face. “And you have that ‘don’t mess with me’ glint in your eye. You’re mad at somebody. How many guesses do I get? Oh, wait a minute, I don’t need to guess. It’s Jason, isn’t it?”
Sara picked up her pace again.
Frannie ran harder to keep up. “Okay, okay, I get the message. You don’t want to talk about it. Even though it would help to talk about it. My mother says a friendly ear is worth more than a year on a psychiatrist’s couch.”
“Your mother’s a psychiatrist!”
“Yeah, but she’s an ethical psychiatrist. If she thinks a patient is better served by simply talking to a good friend, she’ll tell them to save their money.”
“That’s ethical, all right,” Sara agreed, laughing. She slowed down. “Okay. Yesterday he came into my office all sweetness and light, talking about how he’s easy and he’s willing to wait for me. He invited me to dinner, with the promise of more afterward.”
“More of what?” Frannie asked, her delicate brows arched in curiosity.
“Do you want to hear this, or not?”
“Just wondered what made you think he was suggesting sex later on? After all, you two haven’t been together in that way since he proposed, right?”
“I really do tell you too much about my personal life.”
“You know I live vicariously through you. So don’t stop the supply now that I’m hopelessly hooked.”
Sara laughed. “I could tell there was the promise of more because of his body language. We were affectionate at the office, very affectionate, almost to the point of having sex on the desk.”
“It has been awhile, huh?”
“Exactly. We hadn’t kissed like that since before the proposal. Of course I would think that he’d decided to give me the benefit of the doubt and resume our physical relationship!”
“I see your point.”
“Thank you!” Sara took a deep breath and continued. “But later that night, after dinner, he got up and made a move on me so similar to his old self just before he used to jump my bones, that I got all hot and bothered. He went to kiss me. I closed my eyes, and what do you suppose happened then? He kissed me on the forehead as if I was his baby daughter whom he was kissing good-night! Then, he said it was getting late and he would walk me to my car.”
“After making like Valentino?”
“Yeah, girl, had me about to pant like a dog.”
“The scum!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Oh, he’s definitely still mad at you,” was Frannie’s considered opinion.
“I know.”
“You’re doing all you can,” Frannie said sympathetically. “You wouldn’t have accepted your last assignment if you had known he was going to propose. But Elizabeth was already under our protection before he popped the question.”
“Bad timing.”
Frannie nodded her agreement, her frizzy hair bobbing up and down. “You’re making a huge sacrifice for that schlimazel.”
“What does that mean in English again?” Frannie was always tossing out a Yiddish word or two that Sara had to have translated.
“It means someone who’s prone to mistakes or plagued with bad luck.”
“It was all just bad luck when he proposed. I was so ready to say yes, I could taste it. But I couldn’t because Elizabeth needs us.”
“Oh, girl, I do feel for you,” said Frannie. “But, now, lend me your ear because I actually have a problem that I could use your help with.”
“Fire away.”
“Melissa is hinting around about setting me up with her father. The poor kid wants a mother so badly, she’s considering me for the job!”
A pickup truck that they recognized as belonging to Joe Rizzo, a local olive grower, slowed down next to them. “You ladies in those jogging shorts does an old man’s heart good!” Joe yelled.
“Get on to work, you pervert!” Frannie yelled back at him, grinning. Joe meant no harm. He often bought her a beer at the tavern on a Saturday night. Fifty-nine, and a widower the past five years, he was so busy fending off most of the single women of a certain age that he didn’t have the energy for serious flirting. At least that’s what he’d told Frannie.
Joe laughed heartily. “Enjoy your day, ladies.”
“You too!” Sara called.
“Anyway,” Frannie said, continuing the conversation Joe had interrupted. “Yesterday when she dropped by the store after school she asked me if I’d come to her sixteenth birthday party tomorrow night. Fool that I am, I immediately accepted. I like her, and I was flattered that she’d asked me. Then, I remembered that her father is the same creep who used to make your life miserable when you were her age and now I regret that I accepted so fast.”
“I’m all for sisterly solidarity,” Sara told her. “But you don’t have to feel offended by him on my behalf. Jason told me that Erik said he regretted being an ass back then. If you want to go to Melissa’s party, then go. But what makes you think she’s going to try to fix you up with him?”
“She told me to wear something sexy, as if she would know anything about sexy. She wears clothes so big they’re practically falling off her body.”
“That’s the style these days. Plus, since she’s a little heavy she thinks it camouflages her body.”
“I’d love to give her a makeover,” Frannie said. “Do you think she’d be offended if I took her shopping for her birthday?”
“Make it a girls’ day out and I don’t see why. Invite me and Elizabeth along and she won’t feel as if you’re targeting her.”
“Good idea. We can hop over to Santa Rosa before the mall closes tonight. Are you sure you’re free tonight? I’m pretty sure Melissa is. But I wonder if her dad would object?”
“Yeah, I don’t have a love life anymore, remember?” Sara said with a laugh. “And why should Erik object?”
“His daughter going shopping with three black women?”
“I wish he would object,” Sara said. “I have a few choice words for him that have had nearly twenty years to simmer at the back of my mind!”
Frannie laughed. “Now, watch yourself. You may be talking about my future boyfriend if his daughter has anything to do with it.”
“I’ll pray for you, girl.”
“Don’t pray too hard. I’ve seen him around. He’s got a nice tush. You know I go for big guys.”
“He’s six-four, Frannie, more than a foot taller than you. Isn’t that too big?”
“Oh, please, I once dated a guy who was six-seven. He could almost put me in his pocket. But it was nice while it lasted.”
“What was nice about it?”
“Do I have to tell you about the main advantage of dating a tall guy?”
Sara actually blushed. “No, don’t say it.”
Of course, Frannie had to say it now. “It sort of leaned to the left and, girl, I had to go around the corner to get on it.”
“You ought to quit!” Sara cried, laughing. Knowing Frannie’s history with men she was happy that Frannie could still joke about sex.
“Well, lately, all I’ve got is a few good memories,” Frannie said wistfully.
Later, back at the house, the three housemates, Sara, Frannie and Elizabeth, had breakfast together. Elizabeth had slept in while Sara and Frannie had their morning jog. When they returned, they heard her in her bedroom’s shower. Sara and Frannie went to their rooms and showered and dressed, too. By the time Elizabeth came downstairs Sara had prepared their breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham and toast.
Frannie was pouring coffee in mugs at their place settings when Elizabeth came into the kitchen and gave them a timid, “Good morning.”
Elizabeth was twenty-two, had light brown skin and dark brown eyes. She wore her natural black hair in a short afro. Although Elizabeth was a genuinely shy and modest young lady, she was under the organization’s protection because she had led a walkout of nearly five hundred gold miners in Johannesburg. Since apartheid had been abolished working conditions had improved for blacks; however, there were still some throwbacks to a colonial system that in many aspects resembled slavery.
The government passed laws to protect workers, but the gold-mining companies failed to comply. A group of miners, led by Elizabeth’s father, Edward, wrote down and presented to their bosses their grievances which included the need for better pay, health insurance, an on-site infirmary and more frequent water breaks.
Two days later, Edward Mbeki was gunned down while walking home from work.
The police never found his killer. A week after that, Elizabeth, who was in medical school in Johannesburg at the time, led a march through the city in protest of her father’s death and called for an investigation of the company that he had worked for.
She and several others were arrested.
A group of American human rights lawyers got her released the next day. A few days later, Elizabeth convinced the gold miners at her father’s company to walk out of work and stay away for twenty-four hours. The company owners went ballistic and hired toughs to beat up several of the workers.
An enterprising reporter for a Soweto newspaper actually caught one of the company’s thugs beating up a worker on video. It was shown on every television station in South Africa. Shortly after that, the company came under investigation, and was forced to comply with everything that Edward Mbeki had asked for before his assassination.
However, it wasn’t over for Elizabeth. Her family’s house mysteriously caught fire and her mother and younger sister perished in the flames. She began receiving death threats. Her college friends tried to help by concealing her in their homes. They tried to raise her spirits, but she became despondent, and contemplated suicide. That was when a black woman with a tattoo of crossed spears on her upper arm came to her and told her she was taking her to America where she would be among friends and she could continue her education.
