An hour later they sat at a table enjoying a glass of wine. The restaurant was crowded, but they chose a table outside to enjoy the evening and watch the people walk by.
“When do you defend?” Fran asked about her dissertation. Fran had been her proofreader and knew almost every word of her thesis.
Caroline knew she had no idea what she was reading but wanted to help just the same.
“Three weeks after I get back.” The critical date loomed over her and would until it was over.
“How do you do this and study at the same time?” Fran waved her hand at the other racers.
“If I don’t know it by now, I don’t deserve to get my Ph.D.
Supernova-driven interstellar turbulence is not something you cram for in a few days.”
“True,” Fran said. “Here, you’ve got to taste this.” She stabbed a piece of pasta and extended her fork across the table. Caroline took the bite, but before she could comment on the spicy taste Fran said, “There she is.”
“Who?” Caroline knew the answer to the question but asked it anyway.
“Who, hell? Shannon Roberts and she is coming this way. No, don’t look…”
“I wasn’t going to. I know what she looks like and I don’t care where she is.” Then why is my heart racing and my throat all of a sudden very dry?
“Bullshit. Oh man, she is hotter in real life than in her pictures.
She’s looking this way, she’s—”
Caroline set her drink on the table a little harder than she intended.
The wine spilled over the edge of the glass. “I don’t want a play-by-play commentary of her evening, Fran.” By the look on Fran’s face, she was up to something. When she motioned to Shannon to come to the table, Caroline knew she wasn’t going to like it.
“Too bad; here she comes.” Caroline took a deep breath in anticipation of seeing those piercing blue eyes again.
“Caroline? I don’t want to interrupt, but I wanted to congratulate you again and wish you luck this week.”
Shannon was standing, and since Caroline was still seated she
• 74 •
Descent
had to look up past a pair of memorable breasts to meet her eyes. The dryness in her throat rapidly progressed to her mouth.
“Thank you. The same to you,” she babbled. Fran nudged her under the table and she remembered her manners. “Shannon Roberts, Fran Loming,” she said by way of introduction.
“Pleased to meet you, Shannon. I’ve heard so much about you,”
Fran said sweetly.
It was Caroline’s turn to kick her under the table. Shannon’s eyes narrowed as she gave Fran more than a cursory once-over. She didn’t look happy.
“Thank you, Fran was it?” Shannon asked.
“Yes. Even though I’m a very big Caroline Davis fan, good luck to you as well.”
Caroline could have sworn her very straight friend was flirting with Shannon but knew it had to be her imagination. Shannon focused her attention back on her.
“I won’t keep you, Caroline. Have a nice evening.”
“Wow.” Fran sighed to Shannon’s back as she walked away. “She is so hot she sizzles. My God, Caroline, was she always like that? She practically left burn marks in the floor. Every woman was looking at her and a few are going after her.”
Caroline had not yet begun to breathe normally again, and Fran’s chatter about Shannon’s sexual magnetism didn’t help her scattered nerves.
“If anyone could make me turn the corner, it would be her.”
“Stop it,” Caroline snapped. Fran looked shocked at her outburst.
Caroline softened her voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you. It’s just that this race is…the series…”
“Bullshit,” Fran said again. She had such a way with the English language. “There is something going on between you two, and the sooner you admit it and do something about it the better off you’ll be.
Jesus, the way she looked at me, I thought she was going to knock me out of my chair and wipe the floor with me.”
“Fran, please.” She didn’t want to get into it again with her today.
Fran was relentless, and she was just not up to it.
Shannon had walked out on her once and she had said nothing more than polite conversation until a week ago. She thought they had
• 75 •
JuliE CaNNoN
something special going on, but obviously it was just a high school fling. They had to jump through all kinds of hoops to finally talk to each other after her father caught them, but it had never been the same.
Their conversations were forced and as much as she willed it, their connection was lost.
“Okay, CD,” Fran said. “I’ll leave it alone. At least for now.
You’ve got to concentrate or you’ll fall down the two point seven meter mountain and break your freakin’ neck. Then I’d really have to spoon feed you.”
Caroline forced a laugh and couldn’t wait until the check came.
v
Shannon paced her room, oblivious to the food on the room service tray getting cold. She had gone to Ms. Farren’s for a quick bite to eat prior to venturing out to enjoy the sights, sounds, and beauties of the Scottish countryside.
She’d been keyed up lately, snapping at everyone and drinking way too much. Other times when she got like this she simply needed to blow off some steam in the arms of a woman on the dance floor and the bedroom floor. Or the living room floor, or the foyer floor, or any number of other hard surfaces that were handy.
Seeing Caroline and her date enjoying a romantic, chummy dinner was not what she needed tonight. She should have turned and walked right back out the door but instead found herself standing beside their table. Caroline and Fran. The name gave her a sour taste in her mouth. They were obviously close. Body language said volumes more than words, and they definitely had spent more than superficial time together.
It felt like a fist hit her stomach as she imagined Fran touching Caroline, kissing her, stroking her to orgasm. She had no right to feel possessive about a woman she didn’t really know anymore. She had no right to her. Hell, she gave up that right ten years ago when she threw her under the bus that just so happened to have her father at the wheel and Dean Phillips in the co-pilot seat.
She had no idea why she still felt something for Caroline. Sure, she was drop-dead gorgeous, but so were the dozens of women she had
• 76 •
Descent
slept with, and she barely remembered some of them. Maybe it was because of the way they had ended things. For years, she had dreams about Caroline. They were set in the places where they used to go together—the movies, the local diner, the back corner of the library.
But mixed in were current places and people she knew. Caroline was happy, sad, furious, and teasing all in the same dream. Shannon felt like she was sneaking to or away from something and she had just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She didn’t need Freud to tell her what that meant. More often than not, her dreams didn’t make any sense and she woke feeling tired and disjointed because she had spent the entire night trying to figure out what in the hell was going on.
Shannon grabbed her jacket, her wallet, and room key and closed the door firmly behind her. She needed to get out and do something.
Anything to get her mind off Caroline. Caroline was a sexy, sensuous woman and there was no doubt in her mind what she and Fran were probably doing now.
“Fran, what kind of stupid nineteen forties name is that?” she asked the empty hall. “Francis? Francine? Francesca?” She tried the names out while waiting for the elevator.
Losing patience, she strode to the door marked Stairs and bounded them two at a time to the first floor. She had no specific destination in mind, but after exiting the revolving door she turned right and headed toward the bright lights of the expo area of the race. Workers were still setting up booths, tents, and vendor displays, so the place was lit up like midday. Shannon wandered around the grounds tripping twice and almost falling on some stray cable and electrical cords. She’d better be careful, she told herself. With her luck, tonight she’d trip, fall, and break her arm over some stupid orange cord no bigger around than a thick pencil.