Darkest Love (4 page)

Strange creatures indeed.
Annie Childs was the one Rain had hurt the most. If anyone should be upset about being bested by Rain Mistern, it was her. And of all Rain's competitors, she was the most
competitive
, sweating away at her peer-reviewed studies almost as much as she did on the popular stuff. She would hate to have missed out on the Award for Contribution to Popular Understanding of Anthropology.

And the way I ignored her after the sex on Sivu
. Rain pushed the thought out of his mind. It was definitely a bad habit of his.

“Thanks.” Rain took the award from the presenter, Mandy Paulson, a lovely Oxford associate professor he had slept with more than once, and caught her smirk just before she stepped aside.

Not the time to look down on popularization, Mandy. I've looked down on you while you worked me with your sweet lips. And the stories I told the guys were very popular.
“I'd like to thank all of you,” he said to the crowd, raising the award and enjoying the whoops and squeals. He saw with relief that Mandy was smiling too, and winked. Fucking her had been so hot he'd rolled into campus the next morning and scored fresh tenure.
The after-sex glow makes a great impression
. “I'd like to thank all of you. I have worked with most of the people in this room, and I know that your knowledge is reaching wider audiences all the time. In fact,” Rain tapped the trophy, “this award belongs to all of you. Anthropology is a very collaborative field, and the work that we do together–the knowledge that we share–is what makes it so rich.”

“Collaborative,” someone snarked at the front, miming a vulgar gesture.
Oh, very mature.
Rain ignored that reference to the fact that he had slept with most of the women above associate lecturer level at the top twenty universities in the US.

“Yes, a collaborative field. A field that is as robust as it is because we compare impressions, and foster one another's understanding. When the field started to take shape in the time of Margaret Mead, debate raged about whether it is even possible to objectively observe a primitive culture. Field notes that made it back to England varied so widely in their impressions of the same tribes that people laughed at them. Men studying primitive women told you something completely different to women studying primitive women.”

Rain, paused to let the words sink in. There were many Margaret Mead fans in the room, and many who believed he should not be permitted to observe women ever again–personally or professionally. “It raises many interesting questions. Does the anthropologist really tell you about the primitive culture when he writes? Or is he telling you more about himself?”

Rain grinned. “Working together, we have a system of checks and balances. Working together, we arrive at the truth. And this truth we convey in turn to a popular audience–one that is more and more eager for our insights.” He raised the trophy. “Have a great night, people.”

Rain gave Mandy another kiss before swooping off the stage, enjoying the thunderous applause and the smiles from the audience, even dirt-dress, who had swept the soil into a tidy pile on the red carpet.

The speech had gone well. A bit fluffy, perhaps, but hey, it was the science popularization award. And the proceedings were being broadcast to all sorts of non-specialists.

“You were fantastic, Rain.” He kissed dirt-dress on her fingers before turning to another colleague: a Vassar woman who pulled him in for a hug. Rain tried not to spear her with the pointy trophy, and grinned as the bodies in the tables started to rise, giving him a standing ovation. A couple of cameras swooped in to get a shot of his face nestled on Miss Vassar's shoulder, with the award nestled in the small on her back.

Just above her shapely ass
, Rain thought as cameras flashed and the smell of the woman's peachy perfume reached his nose. It was probably a great shot. He'd have to take a look at it on the internet tomorrow.

* * * *

“Oh, don't be disappointed, Ann. You probably missed out by a whisker.”

“Lily, I am not disappointed,” Annie snapped as they rounded the pillars by the entrance of the New York Waldorf Astoria, heading for the car park. “Stop saying that.”

Lily's brown eyes widened. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, shivering in the wintery NY air. Annie could sympathize–it was a big adjustment for her, too, after Sivu.

“All right, don't get your Spanx in a knot,” Lily deadpanned, pressing the clicker on her Peugeot so the beep sounded and the locks jumped up. Annie stuck her tongue out at her friend, trying to look casual but beginning to have regrets about bringing Lily instead of her family. Her high school best friend–and fellow Columbia science grad–knew all her secrets, including her crush on Rain Mistern and the fact she always wore Spanx to awards nights.

“Sorry, Annie,” Lily offered as Annie slid into the passenger seat, tipsy from the three cocktails she had downed after Rain's speech. It was not fair of him to look so delicious on stage: to flash that smile. To raise his trophy to the roof with the sexiest look in his eyes. His blazer sort of rearranged itself around his muscles as he stood in triumph, tightening around the gorgeous body Annie had seen naked.

“No problem, Lily.”

“No, I'm really sorry. I know it's a bit of a rollercoaster with Rain. That was bitchy of me.”

“It wasn't,” Annie snapped again as her friend started the engine and pulled out of the car park, thankfully sober. “I'm just sick of you saying that.”

“It's ok to admit it hurts you.”

“It doesn't.” Annie's voice rose up shrill on ‘doesn't', ruining her effort to sound just casually irritated. “And there's no rollercoaster with me and Rain. It's just not on. I am not his girlfriend. Never have been.”

They drove in silence. The more Annie thought about it the more she fumed. Was Lily pushing the issue because she wanted to hear the details?
People love to hear about another's misery
, Annie thought, watching the other woman's slender hands pushing the buttons on the car stereo.
Your best friend is no exception.

“You love to push my buttons, don't you?” Annie said.

Lily smacked the steering wheel, stopping at a light. She turned to Annie, showing her a flash of brown iris, then back to the street. “To be honest, I was worried you would do that again. With Rain. I knew you would, when I heard you'd be on Sivu together. Now…well, I am annoyed. I'm annoyed you're going to be mopey for weeks. I'll have to clean up his mess.”

“So you badger me on awards night?” Annie said, eyes filling with tears. “When we're not even out of the
car park
? And when he's just beat me to an award?”

Lily zoomed off, taking the car to 60 mph in a frantic, frustrated second as the light turned green. “Don't be like that.”

“And you throw in a crack about my hidden corsetry? Spanx, Lily?”

Her friend's shoulders relaxed. Annie could see she was sorry. “You know I'm jealous of your curves, Ann. Your tits are as big as my head.”

Annie had to laugh at that.
You're gorgeous, Lil.
The speed ramped up and the window descended as a much-more-welcome push of Lily's finger sent fresh night air into the car. Annie closed her eyes and eased her head back into the rest, examining the starry sky in the window.

“I'm also annoyed because you'll probably want to go home now. And we both look good.” Lily winked at her, then flipped the vanity mirror and examined her mascara.

“I wasn't planning to go to the after-party, no.”

“Come on,” Lily urged. “You can flirt with the other guys. Make him jealous.”

“He won't even notice me. He'll be the one surrounded, Lil. And anyway…” Annie fixed her friend with a stare. “…the last thing I want is more people whispering about my sex life.”

Lily winked. “They're anthropologists, Annie. Their conclusions are sure to be measured and thoughtful.”

Annie scoffed. “Their conclusions will be something along the lines of ‘cock-hungry disgrace.' And my papers will never be read the same way again. A big slutty shadow will fall over them.”

“Congrats on the Kaamo stuff, by the way.”

“Thanks.” As the lights of Manhattan zipped past and the mood mellowed in the friend-filled car, Annie had a change of heart. The night was very glittery. And it was only ten o'clock.

And, though she would never say it to Lily, she really wanted to see if Rain would talk to her at the party.

I am truly an embarrassment.
“Let's go, Lil. What the hell
.”

The other woman squeaked in excitement and reached over to give her a perilous high five.

“Eyes on the road, you maniac!” Annie returned the palm smack then closed her eyes, trying to plan how she would cope if Rain didn't come over.

Rain was surrounded by colleagues from Vassar, Oxford, Harvard and Brown when Annie and Lily walked in to the after-party venue: Guastavino's on East 59th Street.

They came face-to-face with Rain's back. Annie could see he was clutching a snifter of cognac. He shifted from foot to foot as he answered questions from beaming faces that were, Annie had to admit, doing a good job of concealing any jealousy.

Some of those guys weren't nominated
, Annie reasoned. But a couple had been: Merv Stratton from Brown, in particular, had always struck her as the jealous type, sulking at conferences when his ideas weren't listened to, and passive-aggressively attacking whoever had taken control of the discussion. Stratton had to be reeling at the loss.

“Poor Merv,” said Lily, as if she'd read Annie's mind. Lily worked for the biology department at Brown and had done cross-disciplinary collaborations with Merv Stratton.

Annie nodded as they both examined the guy's face over Rain's shoulder, looking for flashes of emotion. Merv had written an epic book remapping Australia as a land of failed settlements. He had spent years on it, and yet it had not broken through and received the popularization win. The book had everything it took: an upbeat tone, minimal graphs and charts, snarks against consumerism and little digs designed to play on Australians' guilt about the brutal way their country was colonized. It had gotten a lot of coverage in The Guardian and The Sydney Morning Herald. Even McSweeney's had interviewed Stratton in America. Annie could imagine how bummed he must be now.

He cannot compete with Rain's writing.
Rain Mistern's punchy writing style and massive reputation helped him as much as his brilliant mind. He had everything going for him. Even the controversies about sexism helped him by getting his name in the papers and boosting sales.

And the buttocks
. Annie eyed those in Rain's Armani trousers. It was possible that those helped Rain too; there were a hell of a lot of female publishers and book reviewers out there.

Annie's eyes stayed trained on that butt as Rain's feet shifted. The ass-curve moved from one side of his pants to the other as the muscles took turns clenching.

“Eyes off, Horny Dwarf,” Lily whispered, rising up on her tiptoes to peer over the crowd. “How are we going to get to the drinks table?”

“You're not drinking and driving, Lily,” Annie shot.

“I wasn't planning to. I just mean… how are we going to cross the room and mingle? Rain's fans are blocking everything.”

It took Annie a second to realize that Rain had in fact just arrived, and people had packed him to the entrance so tight he hadn't been able to move further than this.

“Shall we push through?” Lily asked, licking her lips as she tried to get another look at the catering table by the stone wall at the far end of Guastavino's. The backlight from the iconic crescent-shaped windows cast a lot of tasty treats in silhouette: sushi platters and macaroons and towers of mini-cakes. Annie could bet there were either some great hors d'oeuvres or a man she wanted to get her hands on.

“He'll see me looking awkward with all those sorries and excuse mes and nudges.”

“I told you; you care what he thinks!”

“Well, a bit, but it doesn't mean—”

“Oh, my God. Annie Childs.” Rain had spotted them. He turned, snifter in hand, eyes not displeased. Annie's heart leapt with pleasure as an easy grin filled his face. He motioned for the women to come closer.

“We were just trying to get through,” Annie said. She felt Lily giving her a mental high five.

“Well, say
hello
first. What is this?” Rain pulled a face at her. The chatterers all around Rain had fallen silent. Lily and Annie shuffled into their circle.

“I have something for you.” Rain grinned. Annie noted the sweat on his brow, just under the sandy hairline, and the tired look in his eyes. It was just starting to creep in at the corners, in the same place where his skin crinkled when he laughed. He passed his trophy to Lily. “Want a feel? I need to fish in my pockets.”

Annie watched Lily's face as she took the trophy. Why did everything Rain say come out as a sexual double entendre?

To Lily's credit she did not run a finger down the gold statue, or bring it jokily anywhere near her lips. Annie's friend had a bawdy sense of humor. “Congratulations on this, Rain,” was all Lily said.

“What have you brought me? Is it from Sivu?” Annie demanded.

Grinning again, Rain fished in his suit pocket and brought up a silver chain. Annie gasped when she saw the brilliant navy stone at the end. She knew it well.

“Oh, Rain. My necklace!” Annie's hands shot to her mouth.

“
Why
does Rain have your communion sapphire?” Lily asked.

“The tribesmen took it. They seized it in Sivu. Oh, Rain, you are amazing!” Annie leaned in to peck his cheek, genuinely grateful and not groping for his body or a reaction for once.