Old Wops, AYSO San Francisco… the list went on and on, none of it with any possible bearing on her case-until finally Gina simply had to stop, the pages in her hand dropping back onto the table.
She looked at the time again. Barely 9:00. She should go to bed. Tomorrow would be another day, and it might turn out to be worse than this one.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the camping picture again, and her hand reached for it as though of its own accord. There was Jedd, still and again. Smiling out at the camera. Rugged and handsome. In his element, really. A very attractive guy who'd known what he was doing around the bedroom twenty-some years ago and probably had learned a few tricks since.
Stop it!
But she couldn't take her eyes off the picture. The picture. The picture.
"Jedd," she said into the telephone, "it's Gina. I've been thinking about when you were here the other night, and how maybe I shouldn't have been so… difficult. And cold. I know it's a little late, but I thought if you were on your way home from somewhere, if you were in the mood, you might want to stop by."
Thirty-six
Gina's hands were shaking slightly as she applied a light touch of coral-shaded lipstick with greater than average care. She wanted to look not just good, but terrific. The rope-belted chinos and tank top she already had on, she knew, would be good for seduction-almost pajamalike, revealing her curves, accentuating the muscle tone, her flat abs. Not that Jedd was likely to get all the way over here and change his mind because of how she looked, but she wanted to make herself irresistible. Hence the subtle eye shadow to camouflage the more obvious signs of fatigue, the blush to highlight her cheekbones, the glossy lipstick she hadn't used since her time with David.
She wasn't going to think about David. Not now.
Checking herself one final time in the mirror, satisfied, she said, "Not bad for an old broad," and left the bathroom, turning out the lights behind her. In the living room, she put on the old classic Tony Bennett/Bill Evans album, the volume so low as to be nearly inaudible. She'd already long since packed away her case materials and her
briefcase, and now she crossed over to her bar area and poured two solid Obans into her good crystal glasses.
Dimming the lights to an intimate level, she took a last look around. Everything was perfect; she was ready. And still the soft knock on her door nearly made her jump. Crossing over to the window, she looked out and recognized Jedd's car again parked on the sidewalk across the street. She let out a long breath of relief.
Okay, he was here. She could stop thinking about what could go wrong and just be in the moment now. It would be all right.
She went to open the door.
"Why, Gina Roake, the scotch in your glass is shaking. I do believe you're nervous."
"Why would I be nervous?"
"I don't know why. You really shouldn't be." Conley was sitting back, smiling, his hand with the drink in it resting on the couch's arm, one ankle crossed onto the opposite knee. "We're pretty much the way we were, a couple of old friends, just doing what comes naturally…"
"After a gap of over twenty years, Jedd. I'm not exactly the same as I was back then. In fact, I'm not even close."
"Well," he said, "anybody tells you that you're still not beautiful, they need their eyes examined. I hope you're not telling me that you've spent any time alone that you didn't want to be. That would be criminal."
Gina sighed with a bit of theater. "It may be a little harder than you think it is out there. Of course, you, with all your power and charisma…"
"And a wife whose daddy controls the purse strings, and I mean all of them. My darling Lexi gets any idea that this kind of harmless fun is any part of my life, I can kiss the so-called power and my promising career good-bye. And I'm not kidding." He took a good pull at his drink. "By the way, the other night when I told you I'd be discreet? I know you already realize it, but just to be upfront about things, that's got to be part of the rules."
Gina put on a little artificial pout, a twinkle of humor in her eye. "Rules already? And here I thought we were wild spirits, running free."
"That too. But I find it's better to get the ground rules settled up front. It avoids a whole lot of unpleasantness down the line."
"Actually," Gina said, "I'm with you on that." At the other end of the couch from him, she lifted her glass. "Here's to that dying breed, the consenting adult."
"Hear, hear." Conley clinked his glass against hers, had another sip.
Gina did likewise, then said, "Okay, I'm officially not nervous anymore."
"Good. Me, neither."
"But you weren't to begin with."
"I was, a little. After the last time, I thought I'd get here and you might change your mind."
"Well, Jedd, I don't think that's happening, not tonight." She hesitated for a calculated time. "But I do have kind of an idea, if you don't mind. Though it may be a little kinky."
"Kinky's not the worst thing in the world." He flashed a look across at her. "What is it?"
"No, never mind."
"Gina. Come on. What?"
She sighed dramatically. "The main thing is I don't want to scare you off. I mean, what I said earlier is true. I've grown up a little bit since… since we were together. I'm not exactly the same in what… what works, I guess is the best way to say it."
"Well, we want things to work."
"Yes, we do."
Jedd nodded and continued to stare at Gina with open approval- surprised, perhaps delighted, and certainly no less interested. He tipped up his drink. Then, putting the empty glass down, he spoke deliberately and confidently, a smile starting to form at the corners of this mouth. "I very much doubt if anything you suggest is going to be so kinky it scares me off. What do you have in mind?"
"I'll just tell you, and if you don't want, it won't matter. We can just stay here."
"Okay. As opposed to where?" "Well, that's my idea. Stuart's house."
For the briefest of seconds, he couldn't keep the shock from showing in his face. But he recovered quickly, back in the game. "Stuart Gorman's house?"
She came forward, brought her knee up onto the couch under her, clearly excited. "Nobody's there, Jedd. And I've got the key. So we sneak in and go up to Stuart and Caryn's old bedroom and do it on their bed. I don't think the place is even a mile from here."
"Well, sure, I know where it is. It's just-"
"No. It's okay. Never mind. You're right. Dumb idea."
"I didn't say that."
"No, really, it's okay. We can just stay here." But in the guise of an explanation, she kept up the pitch. "I've just kind of got this… tradition, you might say. Do you know about the Mile High Club?"
Jedd grinned. "Sure. I'm a member, as a matter of fact."
"Why am I not surprised?" She put on another fetching pout. "Not me. Not yet at least. Anyway, my own private little club is kind of like that. When my clients are in jail, if the opportunity's there, I go to their houses."
"You have got to be kidding me." Conley stared at her in pure admiration. "You're a fucking dangerous woman, Roake."
She nodded. "I like to think so."
"How many times so far?"
"How many times what?"
"Have you done this?"
"This would make lucky thirteen. If you go, that is. I've been waiting for number thirteen. It had to be special."
Getting into the idea, Conley asked, "Who were the other guys? I've got to know some of them, don't I?"