"Doesn't it though," Kimberly quipped. "I've told myself several times that I should move south. Unfortunately, I just keep saying it rather than doing it." She smiled at Camarin who was now sitting across from her. She didn't look at all like Kimberly imagined. Pat's depiction of her as the ruthless reporter seemed an injustice.
"What keeps you here?" Camarin asked. She smoothed her skirt and leaned toward Kimberly. "Someone special in your life that you don't want to leave behind?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone.
Kimberly smiled again and bit her tongue. "I can't say it's any one thing," she replied. "How about you, Camarin. Anyone special in your life?"
Camarin blushed. If you only knew, she thought to herself. Ah, but the possibilities are endless, said the little voice inside of her. To Kimberly she replied in a somewhat teasing voice, "Hey, this interview is about you!" She spotted the waiter and signaled for him to come over. "A half bottle of zinfandel, please." The waiter nodded and left.
Although she didn't like to drink so early in the day, Kimberly needed something to help her relax. Perhaps if she only had one, she'd be okay. Meantime, she wanted Camarin to explain why she had decided to interview her, of all people. She leaned back in her chair. "So, Camarin, what is this feature article you're wanting to do?
I can't imagine how anything I do would be interesting enough for other people to read."
Camarin smiled and reached inside her briefcase. She handed Kimberly a copy of the phony outline Lisa had written. When Kimberly finished reading, she held up her recorder. "Okay if I tape?"
she asked.
"Of course," Kimberly replied, feeling a little giddy at the prospect of being featured in an article that would appear on the worldwide web.
"Kimberly, I hear some women complaining that we've sold out.
We're mimicking the male world of corporate politics. What's your response to this?"
The waiter returned with the wine before Kimberly had a chance to respond. He poured a sample for Camarin to taste, waiting tactfully as she tested the aroma and flavor. "Excellent," she informed him. She waited while he poured a glass for each of them. When he left, she settled back with her wine. Kimberly was obviously nervous. She was concentrating on the menu selection, allowing Camarin the freedom to cast her eyes appreciatively over her body.
Camarin eyed her smooth breasts and pert nipples hungrily. The tips were pressing against Kimberly's blouse, teasing Camarin through the fabric. How could she possibly follow the script when the star character was so delectably sexy! She reached for her water glass, trying to quench a thirst she knew had nothing to do with water. Um, um, she thought. Although she already knew what she was going to order, Camarin fastened her eyes on the menu – anything to deter her dangerous thoughts.
Kimberly sensed Camarin watching her. Thinking she was scrutinizing her for purposes of the article, she tried to appear calm and indifferent to her gaze. She was focusing on the menu very intensely, reading the descriptions over and over and not registering anything she read. When she felt Camarin's foot brush against her knee, it startled her. She looked up and saw Camarin's tongue moving over her lips, her eyes half-closed and her expression unguarded. If Kimberly hadn't known better, she would have thought Camarin was flirting with her.
Camarin's breath caught in her throat when she saw Kimberly returning her gaze. She took another sip of water, then returned to the menu. "All set to order?" she asked.
Kimberly nodded and took a sip of the sparkling white wine. When she thought about her life, it really didn't make very much sense.
From the time she became an adult, Kimberly's life had undergone many changes. Now she felt stagnated in a relationship she did not understand. Yet, she could not bring herself to end it. How could someone like her be interesting to someone of Camarin's caliber?
Camarin indicated to the waiter that they were ready to order. Pad and pen in hand, he hurried over to their table.
Camarin ordered first, then mused about the woman sitting across from her. After Kimberly ordered and the waiter left, Camarin posed a question. "Kimberly, what can you tell me about your life?" She smiled as Kimberly eyed her quizzically. "Things like how you got started in business and what prompted you to leave the university where you were teaching." She waited for Kimberly to answer, noticing the way her eyebrows drew together as she thought about Camarin's question.
Leaning back in her chair, Kimberly swirled the wine around in her glass. It was a habit she'd picked up from a former lover. It was very relaxing to watch the tiny bubbles form, then burst. Much like she imagined a woman's climax to be, bursting full and fruity in your mouth. Oh, Kimberly, came the censoring voice of her superego. You can't be having thoughts like this! She frowned, irritated by her own conscience. Why not? she silently challenged it. She rubbed her forehead, trying to focus her mind on the interview rather than the strange thoughts she'd been experiencing since her visit to Morgan Estates.
"Kimberly?" Camarin prompted.
Kimberly realized she was still waiting for her to answer. "The practice of business is not the cut and dried procedure described in textbooks," she explained. "I felt like I was giving students a false impression of how their lives would be. How could I teach them to manage the market and predict market forces when I myself had never managed a business?" Kimberly paused and finished her wine. She was so tired it didn't take much to make her giddy.
"Go on," Camarin urged. She leaned over and refilled their glasses; Kimberly's more than her own. She was supposed to get Kimberly tipsy and off balance. Getting her in bed with another woman would undoubtedly be a challenge. Camarin smiled at the thought. She felt her clit twitching at the thought of deflowering this lesbian virgin.
She crossed her legs, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation. She performed some of her best roles when she was aroused. It seemed to feed her creativity.
Kimberly puzzled over why Camarin was looking at her so intently.
The way her eyes kept straying to Kimberly's chest, she thought a button might have popped open. Or perhaps she'd spilled a drop of wine down her front. "Will you excuse me, Camarin? I need to go to the powder room."
"Of course," Camarin replied, thinking how quaint and old-fashioned Kimberly seemed. She took advantage of her absence and emptied the rest of the bottle into her glass. Motioning the waiter over again, she ordered another half bottle.
Kimberly looked herself over very carefully in the mirror. As far as she could tell, nothing was amiss. Her headache looming bigger than ever, she massaged her temples. This was not a good day for her. She thought about the evening ahead. Mark had invited her to dinner and the prospect was not a pleasant one. On impulse, she left the restroom and stopped at a public phone in the lobby.
She dropped coins into the slots and listened to the familiar jangle as they slid into place. The dial tone sounded and she punched in Mark's number. Not wanting to talk to him personally, she called him at home. Two rings and his answering machine came on. She waited for the beep, then let him know she couldn't make it this evening.
"I have so much to finish on this new contract we're working out with one of our vendors," she explained. "I really wish I could make it, honey. With this promotion coming up, I can't afford to screw up this contract. Thanks for being so understanding, sweetie. I'll call you later." Kimberly hung up the phone and returned to her table.
She was too distraught with guilt to notice Camarin's inquisitive gaze.