An Appetite for Passion (11 page)

She pictured Max walking in her backyard with her at night, his arm around her to keep her warm, gazing up at the star-smothered sky... Max waking her up in the morning with a soft, tender kiss on the shoulder... Max fixing coffee in the morning as if he truly belonged there... Max making delicious love to her, not omitting a single part of her body in his explorations... Max accompanying her all over Jeffersonville while she pointed out her favorite spots, and those of personal historical significance... Max curled up with her on the sofa, snuggling and talking, telling her all about himself.... Her reverie was interrupted by Jeff’s return.

“Got the software?” Russ asked.

“Got it!”

“Think it’ll work?”

“One way to find out.” He went to work at the computer, whistling as he worked, and Kari kept glancing at him while she worked on the mailing. It was her job to stick pre-addressed labels on the mailers, a mindless task that left her plenty of time to speculate on the election hanky-panky. It seemed obvious to her that with two damaging incidents in two days, these happenings were not just accidents or carelessness. She was also sure that Jeff wouldn’t have spirited away the mailing on Tuesday or deleted the computer information.

Or had he? Had she misjudged him? Was the fact that she enjoyed his company, was beginning to think of him as her newest friend, clouding her judgment? No! No, she was sure he was utterly innocent. Someone else was at fault...and in all probability, was trying to frame Jeff.

But no, that sounded too cloak-and-dagger. This was the stuff of novels, not real life. On the other hand, though, if these things didn’t sometimes happen in real life, they wouldn’t work as believable novels. Then maybe she
was
misjudging Jeff...maybe he
had
done it? No! But how to prove his innocence? How to find the guilty party?

“Got something!” Jeff sang out.

Russ called from across the room, “Got the speech back?”

“No, I can’t recover the speech. But I read the original, and I’m not too bad with words. I believe I can rewrite the speech. I’ve recovered part of the voters list. Some of it’s garbled, but, hey, this is a start. Half a loaf, and all that. Right?”

He worked awhile longer, saving and backing, finally printing out what he’d recovered. It wasn’t complete, but as he’d said, some was better than none. He then went right to work on the speech, cobbling it together from bits of the original speech that he remembered and creations from his own brain that, Russ had to admit, were better than the original.

Ron Larrimore himself showed up at the storefront office just as Kari was getting ready to leave. Looking over the speech, he declared himself impressed with Jeff’s facility with words. “Talk to me after I get elected,” he said to Jeff.

Jeff shook his head. “I’ll never quit my day job for politics,” he said with a grin. “Too chancy.”

“Uh—Ron....” Russ said, clearing his throat. Kari just knew that Russ was about to tell Larrimore not to offer Jeff any jobs if he was the one who had made the information disappear in the first place. On her way to the bathroom, a little while earlier, she had passed Russ’s desk and overheard him on the phone. “...probably did it himself to make himself look good. Destroy it, save the day, and look like a hero?”

She didn’t believe that scenario either, but at this point, she had to admit that things certainly looked bad for Jeff.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jeff said as Kari slipped into her coat. She wondered what was up. “You okay?” he asked when they were alone on the sidewalk out front.

Remembering her earlier sadness again, she sighed. “Yes, I guess so,” she said wistfully.

“If you need a friend...a shoulder....”

“Thanks. I know you mean that.”

“I do for real. You have my home phone?”

“Right here in my purse.” She patted her large, black handbag.

“Could you find it if you needed it? It might be lost in that cavernous bag. What do you women keep in those things?”

“That’s a secret I’ve been sworn never to tell a man. Only women know what we keep in our purses.”

“I know—you’ve got an elephant in there.”

“No, clowns. Like in the circus? If I open the bag, five clowns will climb out.”

“I doubt it. Now,
midgets
, maybe.”

“Open it and see for yourself.”

“Are you nuts? If I open it, who knows what’ll jump out and bite me. You may have a lobster in there.” He made a claw out of his hand and lightly pinched at Kari’s hand.

“No, you were right the first time. It’s an elephant. It’s going to squirt you with its trunk.” By this time, they were both laughing.

“That’s better,” Jeff said, tugging emphatically at the corners of her mouth with his two index fingers to exaggerate her smile. Lunging at him, Kari lightly bit one of his fingers. “Have you had your rabies shots?” Jeff teased.

Kari opened the door. “Thanks,” she said. Jeff had made her feel better...and he was the one who
really
needed—and deserved—cheering up.

“Don’t forget...call me if you need to talk.”

“And vice-versa! You’ve got my number, too. Do you want my work number?”

“I’ll be fine.” He gritted his teeth, determination overtaking his smile. He thrust his chin out resolutely. “When are you in next?”

“Nobody told me anything. And I have plans this weekend.”

“Good. Something fun, I hope?”

“Most definitely! Max is coming over—my boyfriend.”
Max—my boyfriend
—the first time she’d said that. She liked the sound.

“Well, give us a call Sunday or Monday, whenever you get a chance, and I’ll let you know when we’re going to have a project going. Or just drop in. There’s always something to do.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.” He waved as she closed the car door, started the car, and eased out of the parking space.

It was late, and she was tired, but nothing was going to stop her from checking email before she went to bed. There was only one piece of mail waiting for her, but it was from Max.

My dear,

Only one more day...I’ll see you in roughly twenty-four hours...and it will be a rough twenty-four hours indeed, waiting to touch your sweet face with my hands, to blend my lips with yours, to hold your body tight to mine and feel the excitement surging through it.

I want to get to know your body, and I want to get to know all of you. Decisions, decisions—do we make love first, talk first, cuddle first—or have you some other plan for us? I’m all ears.

Did you have a good day, sweet Kari? Mine was plagued with problems, but nothing permanent or critical, and certainly nothing that being with you tomorrow won’t erase from my consciousness.

I long to hold you in my arms, to whisper tender sweetnesses in your ears, to hear your voice say my name and hear it as beautiful music.

And speaking of music, I’m not a half bad singer; I may serenade you while I’m there. What is your favorite kind of music? That’s a topic we’ve never discussed before. And please don’t tell me you like rap—that’s not music! Say you love rap and you’ll ruin all my illusions.

Well, my dear, it’s dinner time and I haven’t eaten yet. I was eager to “talk” to you, first. But now that I’ve done that, I’ll go fix a bite.

And so, that’s it until tomorrow morning, and then tomorrow night when you should be watching your driveway for a red Porsche pulling in.

Till then,

Max

Kari’s reply was briefer than usual. Partly this was due to her tiredness, partly to the constraints on what she would say to him. She wouldn’t cry on his shoulder over the bad day; she didn’t want to tell him about the negligee she’d bought for him, preferring to surprise him with it. In the end, she told him how eager she was to see him, briefly described the incident at the campaign HQ with the missing data, and let it go at that.

Showering quickly, she got in bed, but as tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep. Lots of what-ifs ran through her head. What if Max was unable to come tomorrow for some reason? What if he just didn’t like her when he met her? And then, what if Jeff really had destroyed the data and was responsible for the mailers’ disappearing act?

On a night when she needed to be wide awake the next evening, and really needed a good night’s sleep, Kari tossed and turned till well past 1:30.

Chapter 10

Jeff trudged back to the storefront reluctantly. No fool, he surmised what Russ was saying about him. What many of his co-workers were no doubt thinking and saying.

Kari seemed to believe in him. Sweet Kari. She was the only one there who he felt truly trusted him one hundred percent.

Kari. She was fun, she was funny, she was quick-witted, clever, and intelligent. She reminded him of Jennifer. Jennifer had been his best friend in college. That and more. They’d progressed, Jeff and Jennifer, from best-friendship to romance. Jeff had always believed your mate should be your friend. Not every friend could, or should, be a lover, of course, but it was good if any serious lover was also a friend.

Kari, of course, had a boyfriend—she had said as much. So that seemed to eliminate her as a potential romantic interest...at least, as long as the boyfriend remained on the scene. Too bad. But they could still be good friends. Jennifer and he had been good friends even before they started dating.

As Jeff returned to his work in the campaign office, he wondered what Kari’s boyfriend was like. Was he rotund, ultra-skinny, or something closer to average? More importantly, did he appreciate Kari?

Did he realize how special she was? Creative, industrious, upbeat, friendly, trusting, and all that other good stuff...Kari had a lot going for her. Did this boyfriend know it?

As Jeff worked, his mind wandered. Kari had taken up residence in his brain. He realized, with guilt, that half of him was rooting for Kari’s boyfriend to let her down.

He already considered Kari a friend. And part of him was cheering that friend on, wanting her to find satisfaction with the boyfriend she had mentioned. But another part of him—he had to be honest with himself—was hoping things didn’t go well with the boyfriend, leaving Jeff a clear field to become something more than a friend, as he had done with Jennifer.

Working away, Jeff suddenly felt as if he were being scrutinized. If he looked up, he imagined he’d see everyone staring at him, wanting to see what he’d sabotage next. Damn!

To prove to himself that he was just being paranoid, he raised his head from his work abruptly...and found that Eileen and one of the newer volunteers actually were looking at him. Of course, that didn’t absolutely prove what they were thinking, but the fact that they looked away as he looked up and caught them seemed pretty incriminating.

Suddenly, Jeff felt very insecure. He’d been a vital person in the headquarters since the start of the campaign. The others had looked up to him, in part because of his knowledge, in part because of his personality, and in part because of the sheer number of hours he donated to the cause. Now, suddenly, they were looking at him in a different way...with suspicion.

Jeff felt very alone. He even entertained fleeting thoughts of abandoning his work on the campaign. They could get along without him. There were plenty of other causes that could use his services.

No! He believed in Larrimore. He wanted to see the man get elected. And he was
not
going to let the other volunteers’ suspicions drive him away from working for a cause he believed in.

But he wished they weren’t all convinced he was behind the recent skullduggery. Again, the feeling of aloneness swept over him.

And again, he thought wistfully of Kari.

Chapter 11

When she first awakened on Friday, Kari was freezing. Though it was still dark out, and she couldn’t see if it was fair or cloudy, the weather had unquestionably turned colder. At first Kari thought that was what had caused her to wake up even before her rooster alarm went off, and she huddled deeper under the covers, seeking warmth even if she couldn’t go back to sleep.

Then she remembered—Max would be here tonight! Springing from her bed despite the chill of the room, she closed the cracked-open window and selected a different outfit from the one she’d laid out the night before...something more appropriate to the evident wintry temperatures than to the October date on the calendar.

Kari tried to remember if the paper had predicted the temperature plummeting this way. Finally, she decided she’d been too caught up in Max’s eagerly awaited visit to focus on the paper, had read very little of it, absorbed even less, and had probably bypassed the weather altogether.