Good Karma (9 page)

He laughed. “Oh go on. It’ll be fun.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. The words are right there on
the screen. It’s easy.”

“Mark.” She was whining, but she didn’t care.
“Are you trying to humiliate me?”

He shook his head and squeezed her hand. “Oh
come on. It’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is.” What he was asking was the
equivalent of throwing her into the ocean without a life preserver
when she didn’t know how to swim…in the middle of a hurricane.

“Oh, go on. You know if you don’t you’ll
regret it.”

A spotlight turned on her.

“Don’t make me do this,” she said.

He pointed toward the stage. “They’re
waiting. No one else can go until you do.” He took her hand and
helped her out of her seat.

“Mark, no…”

“You’ll be great.” He gave her a gentle
nudge, and she nearly tripped over her own feet. “Come on,
everybody,” he yelled into the crowd. “Give her a little
encouragement. It’s her first time.”

Really? He had to make virgin references at a
time like this?

But the crowd cheered. A couple of men beside
her clapped her on the back. “You’ll be fine,” one said.

“Just try to imagine everyone naked,” said
the other.

“I don’t think that’ll help.” But she was
walking now.

Toward the stage.

All eyes on her.

The spotlight warm.

This had to be how death row inmates felt on
their final walk to the electric chair…or however they did that
sort of thing now.

The walk took far too little time, and the
next thing she knew she was in front of the DJ who was working the
karaoke setup.

“What am I supposed to sing?” she said.

“What would you like?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea.” Her voice
broke and sounded a little higher than usual. “I’ve never done
this.”

“How about ‘Royals’ by Lorde?” he said. “It’s
usually a good one for first-timers. Easy. Slow. Kinda one
note.”

She knew that song. She had sung along to it
on the radio a few times. “Okay.” Maybe this wouldn’t be so
bad.

“Just watch the monitor. The lyrics will come
up for you a couple of seconds before you need to sing them.”

“Okay,” she said again.
God, kill me
now
.

He smiled. “You’ll be fine. Just relax.” He
winked and nodded toward the stage, indicating she should get
ready.

Uh-huh. Relax. Learning how to breathe
underwater would be easier. How had she let Mark talk her into
this?

Her heart raced, her palms were sweaty, and
her whole body trembled, but she managed to make her way to the
microphone.

The music started. With the light shining in
her eyes, she could barely see Mark all the way in the back, in the
shadows, but could tell he was sitting with his arm over the back
of the chair she had just vacated.

Her voice shook as she sang the first line,
but at least she was on key.

She continued and fell a little off-key on
the second line when it dipped into her lower register, but she was
back on track when she sang the third line.

As she continued to sing, she began to relax.
In the front of the crowd, by the stage, a couple of men watched
her appreciatively, a glint in their eyes. Their suggestive gazes
reminded her of Saturday night, the red dress, the way the men at
the benefit had appraised her.

And then something wondrous began to happen.
She began to enjoy herself. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the
spotlight, or the crowd swaying and singing along with her, or
maybe it was the fact that her goddess alter ego—the one she
discovered in Chicago and who relished the attention—was dancing
and laughing inside her mind. Whatever the reason, with every line
she sang, she fell a little bit more in love with being on
stage.

She fed off the energy of the crowd, off the
electricity of the room, off the intensity of her own
adrenaline.

By the time she reached the final chorus, she
was holding the audience in the palm of her hand and didn’t want to
leave the stage.

They cheered for her. They whistled and cried
for more. She covered her face with one hand, trying not to laugh,
then set the microphone back on the stand and headed toward the
steps.

The DJ high-fived her. “That kicked ass!”

Now she did laugh, pure elation singing from
every cell in her body. Then she darted into the crowd, back to her
table and into Mark’s arms as he scooped her up and hugged her.

“That was incredible,” he said, setting her
down.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I did that.” She
clapped her hands on the sides of her face, too torqued up to sit.
“That was so awesome! I’ve never done that before. Can I go back up
there? Can we do it again? I want—”

His lips crashed down on hers, and her soul
lit like a supernova as her rambling thoughts ceased, replaced by a
whole lot of Mark. Every part of him invaded every part of her for
what felt like a very long time. When he finally pulled away, they
were seated, and she was in his lap, but she didn’t remember
sitting down.

“Uhhh…” His eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Sorry?” His apology lilted like a question as his gaze searched
hers. He looked like he was barely suppressing his surprise at his
own actions.

His arms held her tightly, his hands pressed
securely against her back.

“Wow,” she said flatly, awestruck and numb.
She touched her fingertips to her lips, which lifted slightly at
the corners as she gazed into his eyes.

He stared at her mouth for what felt like a
minute, his eyes dazzling with mischief. “That was nice.”

Nice? Try hot. Smoking. Sizzling.

He gently lifted her off his lap, and she
managed to find her own chair again.

“That was out of line, wasn’t it?” He pursed
his lips as if stifling a grin.

“Um…” Her heart raced, her mind leaped with a
hundred torrid thoughts, and every fiber in her body vibrated. And
yet she couldn’t speak.

He straightened his shirt and took a deep
breath. “I promise to behave now.” He crossed the tip of his index
finger over his heart. And were his cheeks flushed?

Karma turned her attention back to her drink
and the stage, but his kiss continued to burn its way through her
body, making her breathless and aroused. She glanced at him out of
the corner of her eyes. That’s when it hit her. She didn’t want him
to behave. But did she really want him to
misbehave
? That
could pose a problem now that they worked together.

With one kiss, Mark Strong had flummoxed
her…and excited her.

And damn her, she wanted more.

Chapter 9

Don’t
forget to love yourself.

-Soren Kierkegaard

Thursday night, Karma was cleaning up dinner dishes,
still daydreaming about the night before…and the Saturday before
that…and all the wonderful moments she’d spent with Mark so far.
The way his lips had felt against hers. The way he looked at her.
The way his hand had felt on the small of her back. The dusting of
dark hair on the backs of his hands.

She wanted to slowly unbutton his shirt and
run her hands over his chest and down his stomach…see if he had
dark hair everywhere. What if he did? What would that feel like
against her fingers? Would it be coarse or soft? Thick or, like on
his hands, only a dusting? He probably had a nice stomach, too,
ribbed with muscles. She already knew he had a nice chest. His pecs
were firm, raised, and sexy. She was into chests. And arms. And
hands.

God, she could
not
get that sexy man
out of her mind, and now she was aroused. Again. The way she had
been every night since Saturday.

Checking the clock, she saw she had just
enough time before the game started to slip in to her bedroom, lie
back on her bed, and imagine Mark Strong pulling her against him
the way he had when they’d danced. She imagined what might have
happened in his hotel room. He would have undressed her, taken off
his shirt, slipped his hands up her thighs. Would he have licked
her? There. Right between her legs. She had never experienced that
before, but she wanted to. Would Mark have given her that?

As she imagined all that Mark could do to
her, her arousal grew. She was wet and slick, and she fantasized
that her finger was his tongue. Just the thought was enough to send
her over, and she gasped and shuddered into the fantasy.

Sex with herself was safe for sure, but she
was growing bored with safe sex.

She wanted something dangerous. Something
hot. Something purely Mark Strong. On the conference room table. Or
in the chair.

Now
that
was something to think
about!

Gathering herself, she straightened her
clothes and returned to the kitchen, her body warm and tingly, a
smile on her face.

She’d just finished popping a bowl of popcorn
and was on her way to the living room when her phone rang.

She dashed to answer it. The caller ID showed
her dad’s name.

“Hi, Dad.” She flopped onto the couch and
crossed her legs under her, resting the bowl of popcorn in her
lap.

“Hi, sweetie. What are you up to?”

“Just sitting down to watch the game.”
Telling her dad about her oh-so-naughty thoughts of the dapper Mr.
Strong was so not going to happen.

“It should be a good one tonight. Game
seven.” Like her, Dad was a huge sports fan, and the Pacers were
playing tonight. Daddy-o was over the moon they had made the
playoffs.

“Yep.” She grabbed the remote. “I’m turning
on the TV now.”

They talked basketball for a few minutes then
her dad said, “You up for a fishing trip Saturday?”

“Sure.” Karma was horrible at fishing. She
couldn’t even tie a knot in the line. But she enjoyed driving down
to Peterman Lake with her dad two to three times a summer. They
spent the day on the water, catching mostly nothing and a sunburn.
But the real enjoyment wasn’t in hooking fish. It was the time they
spent together, not even talking, eating ham and cheese sandwiches
on Wonder Bread and sipping iced tea from Ball jars.

“Good. I’ll pull out your rod and tackle box.
Looks like it’s going to be a great weekend.”

Despite their differing opinions of the world
and of her path in life, she was super close to her dad. He was her
hero. Her rock. The most important man in her life, who had taught
her how to ride a bicycle without ever putting on training wheels,
who had taught her how to plant and tend a garden, fly a kite,
change a tire, and gap a spark plug. He had also taught her the
principle of work first, play later.

Only, all Karma ever seemed to do was work.
She thought of Mark. Maybe it was time to play a little.

“So, how’s everything else?” her dad
asked.

“Good. Nothing new.” Aside from Mark and all
the excitement he’d brought with him, the rest of her life remained
pretty boring.

“When is some nice boy going to snag you up?”
Her dad still teased her mercilessly about “boys.”

She laughed. “When are you going to start
referring to them as
men
?” Skirting the question was better
than telling him she
had
met a man. A very virile man she
was still uncertain about, but a man nonetheless, who rocked her
world without even trying.

“When one grows a pair and asks you out.” Her
dad was incorrigible, but that was one of his most endearing
qualities.

“You know, most fathers are more worried
about keeping their daughters safe from
boys
,” she said. “If
you were normal, you’d think of my singledom as a good thing
instead of trying to marry me off.”

“Is that how it works?”

“For most dads, yes.”

“Good thing I’m not normal, huh?”

“That’s true. No one can ever blame you for
being normal, but that’s what I love about you.” She and her dad
were
likethis
. Tight. Two fingers crossed. Still, she didn’t
tell him everything. In some cases, it was better that way.

Case in point, she would keep Mark to herself
for a while.

“Okay, honey,” her dad said, “the game’s
getting ready to start, so I’ll let you go. I just wanted to line
things up for this weekend.”

“I’ll see you Saturday.”

“I’ll bring the iced tea.”

“And I’ll bring the sandwiches.”

“Love you,” Dad said.

“Love you, too.”

She hung up, increased the volume on the TV,
and settled in for the end of the pregame, trying not to remember
that tomorrow was the day Mark was taking her to dinner. If she
thought about that fact too much, she wouldn’t get any sleep
tonight.

Chapter 10

You don’t
need to take revenge. Just sit back and wait, because karma will
get hold of those that hurt you and, if you are lucky, God will let
you watch.

-Author Unknown

On Friday, around four o’clock, with her nerves
creeping in over tonight’s dinner, Karma snuck a peek into the
conference room. Mark was bent over his laptop, chin resting on his
fist. The sleeve of his light-blue dress shirt stretched against
his biceps, and his short, dark hair appeared slightly tousled.
Karma had noticed earlier in the week that he had a habit of raking
his fingers through his hair when he was on the phone or deep in
thought.

“Hi, Karma!” Jolene startled her as she
bounced up to the desk and slapped her hands on the counter as if
she were trying to draw as much attention to herself as
possible.

“Jo?” This was a surprise.

“Is he busy?” Jo’s gaze darted toward the
conference room.

Ah, so there it was. The real reason for Jo’s
visit.

“Um…” Karma looked toward the conference
room, searching for any reason to turn Jo away. Not that Karma had
any right to keep her away from Mark, but… Okay fine. She was
jealous. All week, she’d had Mark to herself, and now here came
Jolene. Beautiful, busty, little Miss Hot Body, in her barely there
blouse and up-to-there skirt.