The Glittering Life of Evie Mckenzie Page 12

  He stood and stepped before her, holding out a hand in offering. She took his hand and rose to face him, aware of the searing heat of his touch on her hand, his solid form just inches from her.

  His grip on her hand tightened slightly and he moved forward, just enough that their bodies were practically touching.

  Evie knew she should step away. She should turn and leave Jack’s office, go back to her life. She was an engaged woman. But when Jack inclined his head slightly and his hot breath danced along her neck, she felt her reserve failing. When Jack’s tongue darted out and rimmed the edge of Evie’s ear, her knees threatened to give. And when his strong hand found its way around the small of her back, drawing her against the full length of his body, she knew there was no going back.

  ‘I …’ She tried to fight it, but there was no fight in her.

  ‘I know.’ Jack’s voice was soothing, and the hardness of his body against her was overwhelming. Evie couldn’t help herself. Her arms went around him, her hands finding the tense, firm muscles of his back as her head tilted back in surrender.

  Jack didn’t hesitate. He took her mouth with his own, his arms tightening around her body as he pressed himself against her. He kissed her hard, his lips moving against her own until his tongue began to trace the line between her lips. She yielded, letting him in, and his tongue began to thrust into the welcoming wetness of her mouth, Evie matching the thrusts and rhythm without thinking about it.

  She pushed against the firmness she felt in his pants, wrapping one leg around his, her calf pulling him toward her. Jack issued a deep groan, and Evie was lost. The sheer guttural need in that single groan pulsed through her core, revealing a tension that she needed to relieve. She drove herself against him, and his hands pulled her tighter still.

  He spun her around, lifting her and setting her gently on the edge of the strong desk, fitting himself between her legs as his tongue continued to plunder her mouth.

  Evie knew that she should stop this, but his hands on her, his tongue in her mouth – it was all she had wanted for so long. She felt powerless to pull away. She spread her legs apart, letting her skirt hike up around her thighs in a most immodest manner, wishing it weren’t there at all.

  Jack broke away from her then, and for a moment Evie felt that her world had lost its mooring. Where was she? Why had he stopped? She heard the door shut and the lock latch, and then Jack was back in her arms, one of his hands beneath her skirt, wrapping itself around her backside and pulling her closer still to the throbbing pressure within his pants.

  ‘Oh God,’ she cried. ‘I want …’ She had no idea how to complete the thought.

  ‘What do you want, baby?’ Jack purred in her ear.

  ‘I don’t know, I don’t know.’ She shook her head, missing his mouth on hers. Her eyes were squeezed shut. She was willing to surrender herself to anything this man offered.

  His tongue found its way to her throat, tracing small circles up the length of it until Evie was writhing against him. The hand beneath her skirt had moved to the mound between her legs, pulling the soft fabric aside and teasing the soft flesh at her center.

  Evie cried out in her desire, unable to regain her sense of propriety. She didn’t care. She lived only for that moment, wanted only whatever Jack would offer her next.

  ‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of having you in my arms again?’

  She responded by pushing against the hand that was slowly working circles around the most tender parts of her, and gasped when Jack inserted two fingers, feeling as if he’d penetrated her very core. ‘Yes!’ she cried. She rocked her hips against the pressure of his hand and felt the tension within her building to a release. She couldn’t stop herself, and she buried her head against his shoulder as her body shuddered in release, going limp in his arms as her climax subsided.

  ‘I love you.’ It was a whisper, and Evie wasn’t sure if she’d heard it correctly. There was a dull buzz in her head that made it impossible to know what was real and what was imagined. She lifted her head from Jack’s shoulder and was immediately embarrassed. She pulled her legs together and smoothed her skirt, sliding off his desk.

  ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t do that.’ Jack’s voice was stern. ‘Don’t ever apologize for being you, for being beautiful.’

  ‘No, it’s just that …’

  ‘I don’t care about any of that. It’s all baloney and you know it. This. This is real. And you’ll figure that out soon.’ Jack turned away from her, running a hand through his hair and smoothing his trousers.

  Evie stood before him uncomfortably, the tension between them having returned. It was as if the past ten minutes hadn’t occurred, except that Evie would dream about them for days to come. ‘I guess … I’ll see you Friday,’ she said.

  ‘Friday. At Maison.’ Jack turned back to her and took her hand, which he kissed. ‘I look forward to it.’

  ‘So do I.’

  Evie wandered back to the car where Buck waited, wondering if he could see a change in her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tug

  As Tug and her father shared a meal together for the first time in months, she came up with a meager plan. She waited until the inevitable moment when her father’s eyes squinted an apology and he went to the cupboard to pour himself a drink. The first of what would be many, Tug knew. And she had only to wait until he excused himself upstairs, his humility and embarrassment unable to stop him from pouring another drink before he sheepishly wished his only child goodnight.

  Tug went to her room and dressed. She piled it on, pushing her typical neckline a bit lower, rouging her cheeks just a bit more than usual. She tried to make herself look more glamorous, more refined, and older than she was. It was going to be important tonight. She pushed away thoughts of guilt and regret about what had happened at Evie’s. She had made a mistake, trusted the wrong people, and folks had gotten hurt. But no amount of heartache would help them now. Tug packaged up the remorse and shame she felt at what she had done and hardened them into a dense little square, which she pushed down into the core of her soul. She hid it there in a dark corner she didn’t plan to visit often. A softer girl might have made another choice, but Tug knew that softness wasn’t her option. Feeling sorrowful would get her nowhere.

  Despite the pain she felt, Tug told herself that moving forward was her only choice. No white knight would come to rescue her. If she wanted to continue to eat, she needed to work. And this was the only work Tug knew. She had no one but herself, and no skills beyond those she’d developed at Evie’s. She rouged her lips in the mirror and forced a smile to come to her lips.

  When she was done, it was dark outside, but she waited until night was in full swing and then went out. She drove her father’s car down to the Village club she’d been to with Chuck, hoping that, for once, luck would be on her side.

  The club was just as packed as it had been before, but Tug was disappointed to find herself awash in a sea of festivity, with Texas Guinan nowhere in sight. She pushed her way to the bar and waited for the man behind it to notice her. In the meantime, she scanned the crowd, looking for the bigger-than-life club proprietress who she hoped might remember her once again.

  ‘What can I get you, doll?’ The bartender smiled at her cleavage, and Tug pushed away the irritation that came immediately when a man chose to speak to her body and not to her face. She’d chosen the dress purposely, hadn’t she?

  ‘Scotch if you got it.’

  ‘Sure, but ya sure you don’t want something sweeter? Pretty girl like you …’

  ‘I’m sure.’ Tug doubted she would ever drink a mixed drink again, after what had happened at Evie’s. The newspapers had continued covering those sickened as they followed Roger and Chuck’s legal developments. Most had improved, but the man who had gone blind still couldn’t see, and the woman who had lost the use of her legs was wheelchair-bound. Tug shook the thought
s away. One day, she told herself, when she was as successful as Guinan, she would make amends.

  The scotch appeared before her and Tug handed the man some money, but just as he reached for it, a woman’s hand snatched it from his grasp.

  ‘First one’s on me,’ a southern drawl informed him.

  Tug turned to see Texas Guinan holding her money back to her, a wide smile on her face. ‘Hello, Tug. You’re looking swell.’

  ‘Thank you Ms Guinan. You look wonderful, too.’

  ‘What brings you back around? And where’s your handsome escort tonight?’

  Tug wondered how much Guinan knew about Evie’s, and about Chuck. Was she just playing dumb? ‘Chuck’s landed in a bit of trouble,’ Tug said. ‘But he should be okay, I think.’

  ‘I might have heard a bit about that.’

  ‘The club is ruined.’

  ‘Had a good run, though.’

  ‘I suppose so. Not for long.’

  ‘All good things must end, Tug.’

  ‘Not for you, though, Ms Guinan. Seems like your success just marches forward.’

  Guinan raised an eyebrow. ‘You might be right,’ she said. ‘What can I do for you, Tug? I doubt you dropped by just to sample my wares.’

  She was smart. And she was right. ‘No,’ Tug said. ‘I hoped you might have a few minutes to talk.’

  ‘What’ve we been doing here, Tug?’

  ‘Maybe somewhere quieter?’

  Guinan leaned in and winked. ‘No offense, but you’re not my type.’ Then she threw her head back and laughed loudly, grasping Tug’s arm tightly as her chest shook with her laughter. ‘Oh, all right,’ she said once she’d regained herself. ‘Come on back this way.’ She led Tug through a door that was almost invisible in a dark paneled wall. There was a tunnel behind it, an unlit path that Texas navigated without fear, finding another door at the far end and unlocking it in the darkness.

  Behind the door, a dim vestibule appeared, with another door beyond it. Guinan unlocked that as well, and led Tug into the brightly lit room beyond, closing the doors behind them.

  *****

  ‘What a beautiful office,’ Tug said. The walls were paneled with dark wood halfway up, and then a deep red wallpaper took over, rising to the tall ceilings where a chandelier dripped with crystal. The color on the paper matched the upholstery of the two couches in the room, and a ladylike wood desk stood on curved legs at the center.

  ‘Thank you. Please sit,’ Guinan said. She was serious suddenly, her broad smile and effervescent laughter gone. She fell heavily into a chair, sighing as if she were exhausted. ‘What can I do for you, Tug?’

  Tug sat and looked up at Guinan, feeling somewhat awed by being this close to her idol. ‘I was hoping I might come to work for you.’

  Guinan’s eyebrows shot up, but she made no other expression. ‘Didn’t take you for a dancer,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not a dancer. I’m a manager, a bookkeeper, or a bartender.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve got all those things already.’

  Tug’s spirits fell. ‘I can do other things,’ she said quickly. ‘Anything really. I just need a job. And I want to learn from you.’

  ‘So that you can compete with me again?’ Guinan asked.

  ‘I’d rather work with you.’

  ‘Hmm. Fair enough.’ Guinan ran a hand down the front of her leg absently as she looked at Tug. ‘I might have something,’ she said.

  ‘Anything,’ Tug said, sitting up straighter.

  ‘Come back here in a week,’ Guinan said. ‘I’ll have something for you then.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’

  ‘You might wanna wait until you find out what it is,’ Guinan said, winking again.

  Guinan escorted Tug back out through the hallway, and Tug left the club feeling optimistic.

  Her optimism was short-lived, however. Derek Mulroney sat on the steps of her house when she arrived home. And he didn’t look happy.

  ‘Hello, Liz,’ he said as she approached.

  Tug cast a glance around the street, but there was no one in sight. She was alone with Derek, and the unsteady sway of his shoulders told her he was drunk. ‘Hello, Derek,’ she said.

  ‘I haven’t heard much from you,’ he said, sprawling across her steps so that she couldn’t pass. ‘Made you an offer last week. Kinda rude not to give me an answer, dontcha think?’

  She stood on the sidewalk, looking up at him. ‘It’s been a rough week.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been spending some time with your boyfriends down at the station.’

  Irritation flooded Tug, but she tried to push it down. She remained quiet.

  ‘You have nothing to say? That ain’t like you, Liz. Always so mouthy.’ Derek stood and descended the steps. ‘You sure had plenty to say when my hand was up your skirt.’ He stood on the bottom step, making himself significantly taller than Tug. She glanced around the street again, feeling vulnerable.

  ‘What do you want, Derek?’

  It was the wrong thing to say. Derek’s eyes widened and sparked, and his hands shot out, grabbing Tug’s arms just under the shoulders. His breathing increased in speed as he leaned into her face. ‘What do I want, she asks! You’re out somewhere, dressed like this.’ He was practically screaming, and when he said the word ‘this,’ spittle flew from his mouth. ‘Dressed like a common whore,’ he shouted. ‘And you wonder what I want?’ He was in her face, his eyes wild, and his grip on her arms tightened.

  Fear climbed up Tug’s spine, making her mind buzz. She needed to find a way to calm him down, quickly, but there was little she could say. ‘I just meant that you hadn’t visited me like this before,’ she said, her words rushed. ‘And I wondered what I could do for you.’

  ‘Oh, there’s plenty you could do for me,’ Derek told her. ‘But I don’t much care for used goods, and I’m pretty sure you’ve already done it for your two college boys. I think you’ve got higher aspirations than a regular old hardworking cop, is that it? Think you’re worth so much more? Think you can do so much better than me?’ His hands moved to her throat.

  Tug’s eyes flew sideways – there had to be someone else out, someone to see what Derek was about to do to her. Her hands were on his wrists, pulling them away from her, but his clutch on her windpipe tightened. ‘No! Derek!’ Her voice was strangled. She flailed in his grasp, unable to believe what was happening as her mind raced. Her feet kicked at him, the square heels on her shoe catching him in the shin as she landed a solid kick.

  Derek howled, and his grasp on her throat tightened.

  Tug kicked again, but her vision was beginning to dance in and out, and she knew she was going to pass out. Just as she had this realization, Derek’s hands flew away and he screamed. Tug crumpled to the pavement, surprised to see her father holding Derek with one arm around the policeman’s neck, his chin held just in the crook of her father’s elbow.

  ‘What exactly is going on out here?’ he said, surprisingly calm, given that he’d just found his daughter in the midst of being murdered by an off-duty policeman.

  ‘She … That’s my fiancé!’ Derek gurgled.

  ‘No it isn’t,’ Tug’s father said. ‘That’s my daughter. And no one has asked me for her hand in marriage. We’re an old-fashioned family, aren’t we, Tug?’

  Tug was getting to her feet and smoothing her dress out. She was having difficulty wrapping her head around everything that had happened in a few short minutes.

  ‘Daddy, I …’

  ‘You go on inside, sweetheart. I’m just going to have a few words with your friend here.’

  Derek had stopped flailing around, his limbs going limp in her father’s surprisingly strong grasp. His eyes rolled at Tug, but he said nothing else.

  The man holding Derek was her father, but he looked more like the father she’d known years before – the strong able man who’d provided for their family when her mother was home. The Daddy she remembered and missed. She stared at him a long minute, and then did as he
r father suggested, going inside and closing the door behind her.

  When he came back inside a few minutes later, Tug had washed her face and put on a long-sleeved nightgown that hung to her ankles. She didn’t feel like being exposed at all now. ‘What happened?’ she asked her father.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, looking grim. ‘I told that piece of trash that if he ever came near you again I’d kill him with my bare hands.’ As he finished the sentence, his face withered. The strong man who’d come to her rescue disappeared as she watched, and her father reappeared, pouring himself another drink as his back hunched over and his hands began to shake.

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ she said as he sank into a chair beside the table.

  He nodded and took a long swig from his cup.

  *****

  For Tug, the week couldn’t pass quickly enough. She wandered her house like a ghost, half-afraid to venture out lest she hear or read more reminders of her misdeeds or run into Derek. Her father seemed to have shrunken even further into himself after the altercation with Derek. She wondered if he’d used up what was left of his humanity in one final burst of paternal love. He was like a shell now, silent and thin. And almost always drunk. In some ways she thought it would be easier to live with him as things were – she almost wished she hadn’t had that final glimpse of the father she’d known.

  The day before she was set to meet Texas Guinan again, Tug went out. She made herself go to Chuck’s parents’ house, knocking timidly on the door. She was relieved when Chuck himself answered, and his reaction to finding her on his doorstep made her wonder if maybe Evie was right about his feelings for her.

  ‘Tug!’ he cried, reaching out and picking her up in his arms. ‘It’s so good to see you!’

  She laughed as he turned her in a circle and put her down inside the hall. ‘Most people just say, “Won’t you come in?”’

  Chuck looked embarrassed as he released her. ‘Sorry. I’m happy to see you.’

  ‘How are you?’ Tug gave Chuck a once-over, noticing that he looked thinner, and fine worry lines had sprung up around his eyes where she hadn’t seen them before.