Holiday Escort Page 6

  "I don't understand what you're asking."

  "You're too amazing to put up with her shit," she said.

  "I don't like not knowing when to expect her home," I said. "But otherwise she treats me well. I am reluctantly between jobs, so right now I have some flexibility. But I don't want to remain a kept woman forever. I don't know if the relationship will last after I find a job."

  "I hope you'll forgive me if I hope that is a very long time."

  "My plan for networking through her friends isn't going to work?"

  "No."

  I sighed. "If you relax and try to enjoy dancing with me, I'll forgive you."

  I finished two songs with Sally. Karen turned the music off. I turned to her. "That's all?"

  "Well," said Karen.

  I put a hand on a hip. "I slaved for days. I want more than four songs."

  Karen mimicked my posture. "And we want a lesson. You'll get what you want if we get what we want."

  I laughed. "Seriously?" She nodded.

  I thought about it. "All right. Karen, you're a better lead than I am. I don't know if I can teach you anything."

  "You can teach me to actually lead a molinete."

  "All right," I said. "Let's show everyone what it is." I pulled her to the center of the room, stepped into her arms, and then said into her ear, "Slow steps then do a forward and back, I'll self lead it."

  She stepped left, right, left, then her right step was backwards. I stepped forward with that but across her so that I danced a circle around her. Forward, side, back, side, until I'd walked all the way around her.

  After that I made everyone work on the basic step pattern: forward, side, back, side, working in a straight line across the room and back. Then I grabbed each person and led them into a molinete with me leading. Steve laughed at being made to follow, but he did it. It felt weird to hold Karen that way, but it was nice, too.

  We spent a half hour on it. They had it down after a fashion, and Karen was leading it a lot better, before I told them, "Now I want you to add it into your dances. It's best done in the corners. So at least once around the room, do a molinete. For now, it's okay if you tell you're partner that's what you want, but work on leading it properly."

  Then I turned to Ursula and asked her to dance. She asked if she could follow.

  We danced for another two hours. I followed with Steve and Karen but led with everyone else. I had never led that much before and decided I enjoyed it.

  We eventually moved back upstairs. I curled into Karen again, her arm around me. By eleven, people started heading home, and our last guest was gone shortly before midnight.

  "Damned early milonga," I said as we closed the door after our last guest. I took Karen's hand and pulled her back to the sofa. She looked confused but sat back down in her place, and I curled under her arm again. "Is this okay?"

  "Yes, it's okay," she said. "You were amazing again tonight."

  "Loraine told me something troubling," I said after we had cuddled for a few minutes. "She told me I shouldn't expect any of your friends to refer any work to me." Karen didn't respond. "I was hoping to lean on your contacts."

  Karen still didn't respond.

  I looked up at her. She was pointedly not looking at me. "Oh hell," I said. "You're hoping I don't find a job." I pulled away from her. She seemed reluctant to let me go. "I deserve honesty on this, Karen."

  She looked over at me. "I would hire you myself if I could," she said. "Although I suspect you would eventually sue me for sexual harassment."

  I laughed. "I don't mind your arms around me, Karen. You feel nice. You can sexually harass me all you want."

  She smiled.

  "Are you doing anything to discourage my job search?"

  "Actually, I think you're going to have a flurry of interviews in January. I've already told two people they can't have you until after January second."

  "Really?"

  She nodded. "If you find a job without me, you are of course free to interview as much as you need. But I told my contacts no interviews until January."

  I searched her face. "All right," I said. "That's fair." And I slid back across the sofa and moved under her arm again. I cuddled into her warmth, and we talked quietly for another half hour, the conversation growing quieter and quieter.

  Then I felt her hand on my chin, and she lifted me to look at her. Slowly she lowered her lips and kissed me. It felt nice. I closed my eyes and kissed her back, but when I felt her tongue dance against my lips, I didn't open for her.

  She broke the kiss shortly after. I opened my eyes and looked up at her, then reached up with my hand and pulled her into a second kiss. This one was shorter.

  We stared at each other for a long time afterwards, are eyes only a few inches apart. I pulled away just a little bit and said, "You're the first woman I've ever kissed, Karen. You feel nice, and I like the kisses."

  "But?"

  "The kisses are nice, but they're just kisses."

  She caressed my cheek and I smiled again. "Okay, kisses and caresses."

  She returned the smile.

  I kissed her neck quickly then pulled away. "I think ending the evening on a positive note is a good thing."

  * * *

  In bed, I wondered why I had let her kiss me and why I had kissed her back. I tried to think if there was someone else I would rather have kissing me. I thought about my latest ex-boyfriend. It had taken some time, but I realized I was happy to be rid of him. I think I'd been more upset with how he'd left than the fact he'd left in the first place.

  I lied awake for an hour but didn't come to any conclusions.

  Wandering Eyes

  Tuesday night was another event. Karen picked me up at six. A judge she had mentored with was hosting an event at his home. During the ride she asked me to be a little more circumspect. "He's very conservative," she said.

  "Homophobically conservative?" I asked.

  "No. But a little prudish." She paused. "And you should be there on your own merits. There will be a lot of powerful people there. Most of them are associated with law, but you might find some interesting contacts. Just don't act desperate."

  Still, she held my hand when we arrived. I was introduced to the judge, James Landers, and his wife Megan. The judge was in his sixties and looked just like you might expect a judge to look like. His wife was impeccably dressed and coifed. I was glad Karen had bought me the clothes she bought me.

  Megan asked how we'd met. We told a brief version of the story. Karen made a point of saying, "She has been amazing. Marsha Henderson told me Madeline was the best personal assistant she'd ever had, and watching her at home, I can believe it."

  "Of Henderson Travel?" Megan asked. I nodded.

  "I see someone I wanted to talk to," Karen said.

  Megan immediately grabbed my arm and said, "Go ahead, but I'm keeping your girlfriend with me."

  Karen laughed and wandered off. Megan began grilling me about London. "I've only been twice," I told her. "I'm not much of an expert." I answered her questions as best I could. Then she began pulling me around the room, introducing me to other people, and in each group she somehow dropped I was looking for a job and that I was truly amazing.

  In the process, I collected business cards from two people who wanted my resume. I turned to Megan. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome. Anyone who can make Karen smile like that is all right in my book."

  "I think I'm just a holiday fling for her," I said. "I'll be out in the cold in January."

  Megan laughed then realized I was serious. "Oh Madeline, Karen never smiles. Never. But she smiles at you. I've known she preferred women since she clerked for James, but I've never seen her hold someone's hand."

  I looked over at Karen. She was talking to another woman. She was well-dressed in a low-cut black dress with a dazzling necklace draped in place. She was leggy with long, blonde hair. It looked like an intense conversation. "Who is that?" I asked Megan.

  "I'm no
t sure," she said. "But here. You need to meet Henrietta. She's a million years old, but she knows everyone in business."

  Later I looked around for Karen. She was still talking to that woman, who had her hand on Karen's arm. I frowned and excused myself from the group I was talking to. I moved so that I was in Karen's line of sight and looked at her until she noticed me. I looked down at her arm and pointedly frowned.

  She stepped slightly away from the woman she was talking to, breaking the contact. I smiled and went to refresh my wine. On my way back, Henrietta snagged my arm and kept me with her for a while. I couldn't figure out what she wanted, but if she could get me job interviews, I wasn't going to complain. But she finally released me and I went in search of Karen.

  She was still talking to the blonde, who had her hand on Karen's arm again. I was getting a little pissed. I worked my way through the room, coming up to Karen's side on the arm the blonde was touching. I slipped under Karen's arm, dislodging the blonde, and said, "Hey, honey, who is your friend?"

  Karen looked a little put out. I didn't care. I stared at the blonde.

  "Madeline," Karen said after a brief pause. "This is Tessie."

  "Hello, Tessie," I said. "Aren't you just the cutest thing?" I looked up at Karen. "You really shouldn't monopolize Tessie all night, Karen. I'm sure there are other people who want some of her attention, too." I looked pointedly at Tessie's exposed chest for a moment then smiled at Karen.

  I didn't wait for a pause but just began pulling Karen away from the blonde. As soon as we were clear, I broke all contact with her, but I stayed by her side the rest of the evening. I caught Tessie eying Karen a few times, but each time I smiled sweetly at her from across the room.

  We said our goodbyes about eleven. Other than Karen flirting with the skank, I'd had a nice time. I waited until we were two blocks away before I dropped my smile. "I thought you said you weren't going to do that."

  "Do what?"

  "Flirt with anyone else. Megan had just been telling me how happy you were to be with me, and I looked over and that skank was trying to rip your clothes off."

  She glanced over at me.

  "If you want a relationship with that skank, tell me. I'll get out of the way," I told her. "But it was rude to flirt with her in front of me. And if you sleep with her before I move out, I will give you salmonella poisoning. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Madeline," she said. "You are over-reacting. Tessie is married."

  "Ah, so she was just looking for a little something on the side?"

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "I get it. You haven't had anyone in your bed for a while. A woman has needs, and lord knows I'm not filling them for you."

  "You are being jealous over nothing."

  "All right," I said. "Whatever you say. You weren't flirting with her. She wasn't flirting with you. I got it all wrong. My apologies."

  We were quiet for the rest of the ride, but Karen made a point of hanging my coat up for me then grabbed my arm when I tried to walk away from her. "I'm sorry."

  "For what? You said nothing happened and that I got it all wrong."

  "I wasn't flirting with her. I kept trying to get away from her. But you were right. She was flirting with me."

  "You were smiling at her, Karen, and you let her keep her hand on your arm."

  "She was nattering on about something. I don't know what. I was smiling because I was thinking about you." She paused. "You're right, she's a skank. But her husband is important, and he dotes on her."

  "He dotes on her chest."

  Karen laughed. "Probably."

  I slid closer and kissed her cheek. "You're forgiven."

  * * *

  There were no more events before Christmas Eve, for which I was thankful. Karen had warned me her family could be rough to manage.

  "Are they going to snipe at my cooking?"

  "My sister will probably find something to be snide about."

  "Does your sister make krumkake?"

  Karen laughed. "No."

  "Do any of them tango?"

  "No."

  "Do any of them have the awesome body I have?"

  She laughed again. "No."

  "Then your sister can take her snide comments and stuff them in her Christmas stocking."

  The morning of Christmas Eve came. Karen went to work but promised she would be home by three.

  "If you are not here by four, I will tell your family about our relationship," I told her. "I am serious. You will not arrive late and make me worry I'll be greeting your family without you here."

  She promised me she'd be home by three. I didn't believe her.

  I ran around in the morning, making sure everything in the house was absolutely perfect. My present to Karen was under the tree, as were all of her presents to her family and the ones I'd take to mine on Christmas Day. I had several bottles of white wine chilling, and every decoration was perfect.

  I gave myself a solid workout session in the ballroom downstairs, which I'd been using as my little gym. Full of endorphins, I took a shower and began cooking.

  I baked fresh bread and a new batch of krumkake. The turkey was in the oven right on time.

  Three o'clock came and went. No surprise. I called Karen. She didn't answer. I texted her. "You better be ignoring the phone because you don't want to pick it up while driving." She arrived ten minutes later. She got a kiss for being on time, sort of. We both went upstairs and changed clothes.

  Karen's parents arrived first at four fifteen. There were a little early, but it was okay.

  Karen's father, Fred, was a big man with a ruddy complexion. He was a business owner. Karen's mother, Rhonda, looked like a businessman's wife. She was slender, well coifed, and expensively dressed. Her throat, ears, and wrists all glittered. My greeting from them at the front door felt slightly cool, but Rhonda seemed to warm up as we moved into the house.

  "Who decorated, Dear?" she asked Karen.

  "Madeline did."

  "It's all lovely," she said. "Did you hire someone to help?" she asked me.

  "I hired a handyman to do the heavy lifting," I said. "He strung the lights and garland outside. He was quite good, actually." I paused. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on the bread."

  In the end there were twelve of us. Karen's sister, Lisa, came with her husband, Bob, and their two darling rug rats. Karen's brother, Luke, was single, and their cousin, Chris, came with her husband and daughter. No one brought so much as a bottle of wine to go with the meal.

  The two rug rats wanted to open presents right away. Karen tried to fetch me from the kitchen.

  "If you want to open presents," I said. "Go ahead. I'm not leaving the kitchen until the meal is on. There's a present for you from me under the tree, and you don't get to open it until the morning." Karen made them wait, which didn't go over well with the two brats, but I caught a look from Rhonda that looked vaguely like approval.

  The bread came out of the oven. Rhonda looked over from the living room and saw what I was removing. She got up from her chair and came into the kitchen.

  "Fresh bread?"

  "Yes. With rosemary and a little garlic," I said. "The ones I made earlier are plain." I looked at her. "I'm not sure the meal is going to be to your standards."

  "I have had a lot of years of practice," she said. She looked through the kitchen to see what I was making. I had hidden the evidence I was making boxed stuffing and using store bought cranberries, but she recognized both anyway.

  I shrugged and she smiled. "I'm happy to see you aren't completely super woman," she said. "Personally, I haven't made fresh bread in twenty years, and I haven't had krumkake since Mom died." She looked sad.

  "You're being very kind," I told her. I poked my nose at the bird. It was due to come out in a few more minutes. Until then, I had little to do, but I was scared out of my mind.

  "It isn't easy supporting someone like my husband or like Karen," she said. "The sacrifices you have to make to support t
heir careers aren't for everyone."

  "This is just for the holidays," I said. "I want a real job."

  "This isn't a real job?"

  "You had children to raise," I told her. "Being a mother is a real job. And I guess supporting Karen through the holidays has been a real job, but come January, that all changes."

  It was time to pull the bird from the oven. I looked at it dubiously. I had wrestled it in, but I decided if I had a house with a few strong men in it, I could make use of them. I called Bob over and asked him to pull it from the oven for me. He did so with a smile and an appreciative moan at the scents wafting off the bird.

  "All right," Rhonda said. "What would you like me to do?"

  "Your choice. Run the stove for gravy and the fake stuffing or manage the process of getting everything else to the table." I paused. "Does your family have a tradition for carving the bird?"

  "I usually do it," she said.

  "All right, if you do that, I'll do the rest, and I'll draft people to carry it to the table."

  I raised my voice. "Yo. Girlfriend. Get your hot ass in here."

  Rhonda smiled at me for that. "You're good for her."

  I told Karen I didn't care how, but everything needed to make it to the table. I worked at the stove, taking care of the last few things. I sautéed some green beans, made the stuffing, and made the gravy. Behind me I heard Rhonda do more organizing while cutting the bird. By the time I was done at the stove, everything else was at the table. Rhonda helped me bring the last few things out to the dining room, then we grabbed our wine. I took my place at the end of the table closest to the kitchen and Rhonda bumped one of the rug rats from the spot next to me.

  We said grace and I listened to several complements on the meal.

  When the stuffing came around, Lisa offered to share her stuffing recipe for next year.

  "Lisa," Karen asked. "Did you try the krumkake yet?"

  "Yes," she said with a small sniff. "They weren't quite like Grandma's, though."

  "I know," I said. "I'm sorry. I was so hoping you would bring yours so I could compare."

  No one said a word, but I caught Karen smirking at me.