Beyond Seduction Part 20

For the rest of the afternoon, she wrote c.r.a.ppy s.e.xual fantasies that involved no heart. After all, that was her specialty.

He picked her up that night, exactly as he'd promised.

"I saw the press conference. You need a better tie," she said.

"You're going to take me shopping for a new tie?"

"We can't go shopping anymore," she reminded him.

"We can shop again, not that I will, but we could if we wanted, which I don't. What did you think?"

"You're going to win," she answered, looking out the window, watching the trees of New Jersey pa.s.s by. He was going to win unless something got in the way. Her.

They didn't talk about it anymore.

She stayed the next few days at his house. She didn't spot any reporters, which made it easier to pretend that there was no campaign. Sam would be gone during the day. Lunches with rotary clubs, teas with the local library. She wanted to see that one, just to watch Sam handle a china teacup, but wisely she stayed away, and every day, when the sun rose up over the small corner of Bergen County where Sam resided, she would find herself a little more entrenched into this world.

She and Max bonded, although she was careful to keep the bathroom door closed when she dressed. She was brewing some tea when she heard her cell ringing.

"Why aren't you home?"

"h.e.l.lo?"

"This is Sheldon. Where are you?"

"You don't want to know."

Max barked.

"Is that a dog? For seven days people have been looking for you, and you're spending your nights at a place with a dog?"

"There's nothing wrong with dogs."

"I know, but a person with a pet, well, that implies a heart. You don't spend the night with people with hearts."

"I want you to know that you're not a blood relative. Only my brothers can insult me like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Ha. Got you. It's okay. You're learning the ways of the brood."

"Where are you?"

"You were supposed to forget that question."

"Nope, sorry. No forgetting here. I'm dying to know. I've got suspicions."

"I don't want to know about your suspicions."

"You're confirming my suspicions."

"Don't tell Jeff."

"I'll try to resist, but he has ways of making me talk."

"I don't want to hear this, Sheldon."

"Sorry."

"What's the latest on the wedding?"

"Dresses are done."

"Yay!"

"Flowers are not done. Andrew wants to fly in some Hawaiian flower, which Jamie said is ridiculous, that roses and daisies will be beautiful. Jeff and I started a pool on which flowers will be at the altar. Want in?"

"No."

"You don't sound good."

"I'm fine."

"Not being kidnapped, or taken over by pod people?"

"Nope."

"I was watching the news yesterday and saw the new candidate for the House."

"Oh, who's that?"

"We don't have to talk about this, but I thought you'd want to talk about this."

"Was there a purpose to this call?"

"Yes."

"And it is?"

"You promised to do work for me. I expect you at my apartment on Sunday, eleven o'clock."

"'Kay."

"I can't believe you're there."

"We covered that territory already. Anything else?"

"Sordid details?"

"None to share."

"You could write about it in your blog, you know."

"No."

"d.a.m.n, Mercedes."

"I'll see you on Sunday.'

"But-"

"Hanging up now."

Mercedes put away her cell and looked into Max's ever-hopeful eyes. "What are we supposed to do?"

And just like she did every morning, she went back into the bedroom, picked up Sam's pillow, held it close, and smiled.

THAT AFTERNOON, THE doorbell rang. Mercedes wanted to answer it, wanted to tell the stupid reporter to get out of Sam's private life, but she didn't. That wouldn't be smart, so she opted not to answer, and hope the unknown door-knocker would go away. Those hopes were dashed when she heard the key in the lock.

"d.a.m.n boy doesn't even bother to set the alarm. Somebody's going to rob him blind..."

Mercedes realized that this must be a repairman; he looked like a repairman in his faded work s.h.i.+rt, his greased denims, and the shock of gray hair. She smiled politely. "h.e.l.lo."

"I'm here about the leak in the shower."

"Yes," said Mercedes, not realizing that Sam had called someone about the leak in the shower.

"Sam's not here?" asked the man.

"No. He's at work."

"When he gets home, you ask him why the h.e.l.l he called Pete Connelly to fix his shower. I told him he needs to replace that thing. Doesn't have the decency to call his own father for help? What sort of son does that?"

"His father," repeated Mercedes, as the green (not hazel) eyes cut in her direction.

"Yeah. Who're you?"

"I'm the interior decorator."

Sam's father snorted, and Mercedes pretended not to hear.

"You're here to fix the shower?" she repeated, for lack of something more intelligent to say.

"Well, yeah, don't have enough time to stand around chatting."

"I'll get out of your way," she said and rushed to the back of the house.

Immediately she called Sam on her cell. "Your father is here," she whispered into the phone.

"My dad?"

"Your dad."

"Wow."

"Sam, he looks like he knows."

"Knows what?"

"Knows that we've had s.e.x."

"I guess I'll have to make an honest woman out of you then."

"Sam!"

"You can go and hide in the bas.e.m.e.nt. That's what I do when Olga comes to clean."

"It's your father."

"Do you want me to tell him to leave?"

"G.o.d, no. He'll think I'm rude."

"I'm sure he'll really like you, Mercedes. Why don't you talk to him?"

"He's a little gruff."

"Yeah, that's my old man. Listen, we're going to meet Tony tonight. Is that okay?"

"We? Me. You. Us?"

"That's an affirmative."

"I don't think this is a good idea, Sam."

"As much as the idea is tempting to me, I can't just keep you tied up in my bedroom forever."

"Can you not joke about bondage when your father is in the house?"

"I thought you liked it."

"I did, but I don't need to talk about it anymore."

"Mercedes, you write erotica. Why can't you have a sensible discussion about s.e.x?"