He would try phoning her one last time. Perhaps she had gotten home in the half hour since he’d last called. The phone rang and rang, but this time the machine did pick up. As he left another message, Tom’s queasy stomach began settling slightly. She had been home to get her messages.
Unless the man hiding in her basement had checked the machine for her.
"Lila? Honey, it’s me. Please call me right away. I’m worried sick about you."
Hanging up, he decided to head over there anyway. He couldn’t sit here and wait for her to call him back. The tension was unbearable.
Just as he reached the front door, the bell rang. Lila! It must be! Eagerly, Tom flung open the heavy carved door without even bothering to look out the window.
"Hi, Tom," Jennifer said with a bright grin.
Wendi was with her. Both wore micro-miniskirts: Jen’s in vibrant red, and Wendi’s in harsh lime green, and both wore black leather jackets that looked none too warm. Both were shivering, and no wonder, Tom noted. Neither wore stockings of any kind. Their bare feet were shoved into the highest stiletto heels he’d ever seen.
"Can we come in?" Wendi’s teeth chattered. "It’s freezing out here."
Too surprised to see them to think about turning them away, Tom stepped aside to let them in. Surrounded by a cloud of perfume so strong it made his eyes water, the women pushed past him and into the living room. He closed the door firmly and followed them.
"I was just on my way out." He waved one glove to show he, at least, was dressed for the weather.
"Oh, just let us stay long enough to warm up," Jennifer pleaded. "We only wanted to come by and keep you company. You did say you were going to be alone tonight."
He had said that, but hadn’t thought it was going to be true. He’d been looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening with Lila. Instead, he’d spent the night dialing the phone and worrying himself into a frenzy.
"Mind if we take off our coats?" Wendi slipped hers off without waiting for an answer. Beneath it she wore a shirt of some shimmery material that matched her skirt.
Tom blinked twice, slowly. Wendi wasn’t wearing a bra beneath the shirt, which glimmered in the light just enough to camouflage the fact it was almost totally sheer. And she was cold; he could definitely see that.
"You have such a nice house." Jennifer, too, slung off her leather coat. Though the shirt she wore wasn’t as transparent as Wendi’s, it left nothing to the imagination either. Her nipples were hard points poking through the silky white fabric, and Tom realized he could see the dusky ring of her aureoles through the cloth. He swallowed heavily.
"Thanks." Suddenly, in his heavy layers of clothing, he felt much too warm.
Both women sat down—Jennifer at one end of the couch, and Wendi on the big, overstuffed chair beside her. Almost in unison, the tiny scraps of material they dared to call skirts rose up equally high on thighs tanned the golden color of wheat. Both crossed their legs at the same time, almost as though they had scripted every movement beforehand.
"Where were you going, Tom?" Wendi’s voice was husky. She swung her leg up and down, up and down, displaying the sculpted muscles in her calves to perfection.
He loosened the scarf around this throat. "To see a friend."
He was being subjected to a double onslaught of predatory femininity, and he was feeling a little light-headed. He knew he should tell both of them to just get out, but he was having trouble forming the words. He felt like a snake fixed in a mongoose’s glare.
"Ooh." Jennifer breathed, wriggling a little on the couch. Her movement hitched her skirt up even higher. "Anyone we know?"
"I don’t think so." He blinked, and suddenly the spell the two hot-to-trot vixens were trying to cast was broken. Of course they didn’t know Lila. Women like Jen and Wendi wouldn’t know someone like Lila. Women like the ones on his couch didn’t deserve to know someone like Lila.
"Why not just stay here with us?" Wendi suggested. "It’s too cold out there, Tom. It’s nice and warm in here. With us."
Her words made him wrinkle his mouth with distaste. They thought they were being seductive. They didn’t realize they were only being ridiculous.
"It was nice of you to stop by." His voice clearly showed he was being insincere. "But you’ll have to leave. I’m on my way out."
Wendi and Jennifer exchanged startled looks. Obviously, they had overestimated their charm. Regaining her seductive smile, Jennifer turned to Tom.
"Are you sure?" She ran her tongue suggestively along her plump, glossy lips.
"Jennifer, I’ve never been more sure of anything," Tom said grimly.
Now the looks the two women exchanged were more than startled. They were shocked. Wendi’s mouth opened and closed like a codfish, and Jennifer’s pretty features turned a bright red. Tom wagered to himself it was the first time the woman had blushed in years.
Wendi began to sputter. Jennifer, however, recovered more quickly. She hauled herself out of the depths of the couch, not bothering to pull her skirt past her thighs. The sight left Tom cold.
Jennifer didn’t appear to notice because she insinuated herself into his arms before he could pull away. "Don’t be shy. We already decided we’re more than willing to share you."
Her glossy lips slid along his cheek, missing his mouth, but not by much. She reached up to run her hands through his hair, pulling it down over his eyes. Shaking his head, Tom grabbed her forearms and pushed her away, gently but firmly. "I think you’d better leave."
"Every man’s fantasy," Jen persisted, her voice a low, husky and sex-soaked purr.
She refused to move far enough away from him, so he stepped back and let go. Without his hands to support her, she teetered on her stiletto heels. Jen flung her hair over her shoulder with the air of a haughty princess.
"Don’t pretend you don’t want it," she snapped, using the tip of her finger to dab her smudged lips. "There are men who’d give both their balls to fuck me and Wendi."
"Then I’d suggest you go and find one of them," Tom replied. "Because I’m not interested."
That, finally, seemed to deflate her, but only for an instant. With another hair toss, Jen beckoned to her friend. "C’mon, Wendi. It’s obvious we’re not wanted."
She couldn’t have been more right, but Tom had been raised better than to agree aloud. He stepped aside to let them reach the door and ignored Wendi’s quivering lip and Jen’s furious sniffs. Just as they were pulling up the zippers on their form-fitting jackets to their heavily made up chins, the doorbell rang. Tom groaned, glancing at the clock. It was eleven o’clock on Saturday night. Time enough for all the sharks in the world to have slammed down a few margaritas and get sentimental about "the one that got away." Who was it this time? He flung the door open violently, prepared to tell the would-be seductress who awaited to stop wasting her time and go home.
It was Lila.
* * *
"Tom, I—" Lila broke off as she saw he wasn’t alone. Two sleek manes of hair, one blonde and one brunette, appeared in the hall behind him. Both were attached to pretty faces and knockout bodies dressed in little more than underwear.
"Excuse us. We were just leaving." Jennifer pushed her way past Tom. She stopped when she saw Lila, and a thin smirk curved her glistening lips. "Oh, look, Wendi. It’s Tom’s charity case. Sorry, honey, he’s already given at the office."
Lila looked at Tom’s stricken face, the smudge of lip gloss, his disheveled hair. That, coupled with the women’s smug looks and lack of clothes told her more than she needed to know. Without another word, Lila turned and left Tom’s front porch. She managed not to slip on the icy walk, got into her car, and put the key in the ignition.
Lila stared steadfastly behind her as she backed out of the driveway. She guessed he was calling after her, but she couldn’t hear him. Jennifer’s words were ringing too loudly in her ears for her to hear anything else. She concentrated grimly on navigating the still-snowy streets. She had spent the afternoon wa
llowing in self-pity brought on by the blonde’s nasty comments at The Foxfire. The phrase "charity case" had brought back every awful memory about her time with William. It had taken an entire quart of Superchocolate ice ream and a long, hot bath before she’d been able to face the thought of confronting Tom.
She’d swallowed her fear and her pride and gone to his house to tell him she loved him. She’d been greeted by something out of her worst nightmare. Her mind told her to give him a chance to explain, but her heart had put petal to the metal and driven her away into the night.
She was only a few blocks from her house when she suddenly decided she didn’t want to go back. Not to the empty house, where the temptation to give in to self-pity might overwhelm her. Instead of turning left at the traffic light, she turned right. The night was young, and so was she. She had soaked in a steaming tub, washed her hair, and put on makeup. She’d shaved her legs, for God’s sake, and she wasn’t going to waste her time at home watching bad movies on cable TV. She was going to go out and forget Tom Caine.
* * *
"This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I decided to surround myself with good-looking men." Lila looked around the crowded club.
Darren laughed loud and hard. "Honey, this is exactly the place you need to be. Ain’t nothing more soothing than being surrounded by a bunch of super hot guys."
Lila couldn’t help tapping her toes to the disco beat filling the nightclub. "Yeah, that’s such a problem for me normally."
"Stop right there." Darren snapped his fingers. "I didn’t fix your makeup and take you out just so I could listen to you be all nasty to yourself. If that Mr. Gorgeous can’t tell a good thing when he’s got it, then he doesn’t deserve it."
"Thanks, Darren. That’s what I needed to hear."
She leaned across her stool to plant a kiss on his caramel-colored cheek. Darren returned the buss, smacking his lips loudly on one side of her face, then the other. Lila began to feel better.
"Moving in on my main squeeze?" thundered a male voice from behind them.
"Sorry." Lila moved aside to let Lance slide onto the bar stool beside her.
"Not you," Lance kidded, squeezing her gently. "I meant him. Darren, don’t make me get up in your face. You may have known her longer, but she’s my boss lady tonight."
"He thinks he’s the black Mr. Clean." Darren rolled his eyes.
Looking at Lance’s shaved head, tiny gold earring, and white T-shirt with rolled sleeves, Lila could definitely see the resemblance. The thought made her giggle until Lance looked at her from wounded eyes. Then she kissed his cheek, too.
"Don’t fight over me, boys," she said archly. "There’s enough of me to go around."
Darren hooted and Lance chuckled. Lila slid off the bar stool and grabbed each of them by the arm. She was surprised to find herself feeling better.
"C’mon. You promised you’d take me dancing."
"Have I ever broken a promise to you?"
She shook her head, held out her hands, and let them pull her onto the floor. "Not yet."
"And I don’t aim to tonight, honey! Let’s dance!"
Lila had never moved so fast for so long. The music went on and on without stopping; one beat merging with the next so she couldn’t even tell where one song ended and the next began. The dance floor was crowded, bodies crushing against each other, but everyone moved to the same rhythm. Sweat poured down her face and streaked the careful makeup Darren had applied earlier, but Lila didn’t care. All that mattered was the sound of the drums and guitars gave her no time to think. No chance to let her mind fill with images of Tom.
Closing time came too quickly for Lila. As the club lights came on and people slowly began filtering out onto the street, Lila was filled with an exhaustion that, while not quite happy, at least was better than the draining lassitude she’d experienced earlier in the day.
The music didn’t slow, but she did. At last Lila had to beg defeat, protesting when Darren and Lance both insisted on buying her yet another drink and taking her for one more twirl around the dance floor.
"I can’t. Really. I’m exhausted!"
"You going to be all right?" Darren held the door open for Lila as they left the club with Lance.
"Fine." She yawned. "I’m going home and going straight to bed."
"We can go with you, if you want." Lance suddenly looked less like Mr. Clean and more like a very angry Marine. "In case that jerk is waiting for you."
Lila hadn’t even thought of that. "No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine."
Darren pulled her close for a hug. "You call me if you need anything."
She nodded. "I will, but I won’t."
Darren shook his head. "Honey, what’s scary is I understood that."
"Go home," Lila urged her friends. "I’ll be fine."
She got in her car while they watched and drove away with them still looking after her. It was nice to have friends. She was glad she had stopped by Darren’s apartment, and even gladder she’d caught him before he went out for the night.
Rivka would be furious Lila hadn’t called her first, of course, but she just hadn’t wanted to face her sister. Tomorrow would be soon enough to let Rivka know the romance with Tom had gone the way of the dodo. Extinct. She’d been a fool to think telling him she loved him would make everything work out all right.
Love. How long could it last in the face of the constant attention he received? The never-ending snide looks and catty comments? How long would it be before she started to get suspicious, resentful…jealous? How long could their relationship last under pressure like that? Not very long. Lila bit back a sigh and forced her eyes to blink away the tears threatening. She was absolutely exhausted.
When she climbed the stairs to her front porch, however, what she saw made her snap instantly awake. She’d tossed a plastic cover over her porch swing to protect it from the elements. The cover now hung over the railing. Below the swing, in the snow she had not yet had the energy or desire to sweep away, were two man-sized footprints.
What really had her heart hammering, though, was not the boot prints in the snow, but the words traced next to them:
LILA, I LOVE YOU. CALL ME.
Lila reached for the mangled broom she kept in one corner of the porch. The words were gone in seconds, along with the boot marks. Lila went inside.
The answering machine was blinking in double-time, an indication the tape was full. She’d had a lot of calls. Her finger hesitated over the button that would play the messages, but she didn’t push it. Maybe Tom had an excuse for what she’d seen tonight, and maybe he didn’t. At any rate, Lila wasn’t ready to hear it. When the morning came and bright light with it, maybe this whole damn situation wouldn’t seem so dark…but then again, it might. After walking over to the outlet on the wall, Lila unplugged the machine with a hard jerk of her wrist.
"Oops," she said without humor. "Power outage."
Then she went upstairs and got into bed.
* * *
Tom had waited on Lila’s front porch for hours, until he could no longer feel his feet or his hands. He had watched all the lights in the neighboring houses go out, one by one, and still she hadn’t come home. Damn it, where could she be?
Now, lying in his lonely bed, he continued shivering from being outside for so long. Though he’d taken a steaming shower, he still felt as though someone had dumped a truckload of ice cubes around him. Not even the memory of the look on Jennifer’s and Wendi’s faces when he told them to get lost could warm him…because the cold was on the inside. He was cold from eyebrows to toenails because of the look on Lila’s face when he’d opened his door.