Across the Pond Read online

  “I’m touched beyond belief.” Tears leaked out from the corners of my eyes and my voice registered at barely a murmur. “I had no idea.”

  The timer went off, breaking the spell, but not spoiling the moment. With an oven-gloved hand and dishtowel, I removed the piping hot cast-iron roaster. My whole salmon appeared as if swimming in a sea of fragrant juices amongst tiny bubbles. Steam quickly heated my cheeks, which were already pink with pleasure. I placed the scalding dish on top of the stove while Faith closed the clasp of the necklace. Without checking the salmon for doneness, I scurried to the bathroom mirror to see how I looked. Faith eventually came up and stood behind me as I fingered the jewel that reminded me of an engagement ring, only better.

  “Selecting the diamond was easy, but I wasn’t sure what length chain would be best. This fits you perfectly.”

  “Oh Faith, I love you so much. This is the nicest surprise ever. It’s exquisite. Thank you.” After words failed to express my true emotions, I stopped rambling and planted tons of kisses onto her, painting her lips and face with my love instead.

  “Happy anniversary, beautiful.” Faith managed a murmur during the rare moment when her mouth was free. “You’re smothering me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I like it, but we should probably eat before dinner gets cold.” She led me by the hand back to the kitchen, where I lit the candles and she popped opened the champagne. “To us,” we toasted.

  “You’ve outdone yourself, Janalyn. I rate this meal five out of five stars. But now I’m pleasantly stuffed. I can’t eat another bite.” Faith pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “I think I’ll take my shower now unless you need me to help clean up.”

  “The dishes can wait. I’d rather help with your shower.” I smiled brightly.

  Again, Faith led the way, and I was eager to follow. In the bathroom, I stripped her clothes off first. Cool air, in contrast to my warm, wet kisses, constricted her nipples to fine points. Mine tightened in response. It seemed she could hardly contain her desire; nor could I. With haste, she removed my dress, gasping at discovering I had nothing on underneath.

  “Oh my, my.” Her eyes darkened. Both of us vibrating with unmistakable need, we stepped into the shower, now hot and steamy. I soaped up her slick body, rinsing her off using the handheld showerhead, and when we were done, we towel-dried each other off. My body ached for me to get Faith into bed as quickly as possible.

  “God, Janalyn. Had I known you were naked under that dress all during dinner, I’d have skipped the food.”

  Her words were music to my ears. I loved being a tease for her, especially when she responded like this.

  “Don’t move a muscle.” She leaped out of bed, naked.

  “Where are you going?” I asked

  “Downstairs. Stay put.”

  “Don’t take all day.”

  Faith reappeared with her incredible edible bouquet. “Time for dessert!”

  She fed me chocolate-covered fruit in bed in exchange for having sex in every position imaginable.

  At one point, we got out of bed, so that she could fuck me with a strap-on that delivered both anal and vaginal pleasure simultaneously, and I had to stand on tiptoes for prolonged periods of time in order to climax; I swore my thigh muscles were close to snapping. Had I remained in that position another second, I surely would have needed emergency services. When my orgasm exploded, I came so hard that Faith caught me just before I fell in a fine puddle of contented flesh and bone.

  Blissful hours passed before we fell asleep in each other’s arms, totally sated and exhausted. It was an anniversary to remember.

  Saturday morning, I woke refreshed, yet stiff. I stretched awakened muscles I hadn’t even known existed. After the crazy, heat of passion positions in which we had found ourselves last night, it’s a wonder I could move at all. Our bodies were entwined, our flesh sticky with the enticing aroma of post-sex afterglow. Faith was one minute in dreamy slumber and the next sleepily nibbling on my earlobe, her heated breath tickling me. It was like being on a slow simmer, after so many hours of scalding hot carnal pursuits.

  I could luxuriate in the contours of her body for hours and never tire of tasting every inch of her. Her nibbling led to her kissing her way down my neck until I wanted more, much more. I was ready to be taken, to be ravished by her, but our tender moment was rudely interrupted when her cell phone rang at the highest volume.

  I have a love-hate relationship with cell phones—one minute wondering how I ever lived without one and the next wanting to flush it down the toilet. There was nothing worse than an annoying ringtone that didn’t stop.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?” I asked, wincing as I stretched.

  She glanced at the screen and swiped decline.

  “Who would call this early on a Saturday morning?” My bare breasts brushed hers as I reached for the phone, but she moved it out of my reach, so I sat up instead, with my back against the headboard. “Let me speak to them.”

  “It’s work.”

  “So why didn’t you just pick up?” Feeling a sudden chill, I pulled the sheet so it lay just below my chin and rested my cheek on my knees to face her.

  “I wanted to discuss it with you before I made a decision.”

  “What decision?” Why was she waffling? “What do they want?” The tone of my voice rose despite my best efforts to remain calm.

  “I know it’s our anniversary, but—”

  “Oh no, but what?” I pouted.

  “But Longhorn Bill’s Grill has been slapped with a hefty fine, with a deadline to clean up or pack it in. They want me to fly to Dallas tonight. Oh, Janalyn, I’m so sorry. I won’t go if you don’t want me to, but the promotion is within reach, and if I don’t jump on this, they’ll give it to someone else. And well, we all know who would just gloat in my face.”

  “I know, I know.” I swallowed my disappointment. “You go, and when you get back, we’ll continue right where we left off. Call them back.” I got out of bed and headed to the shower.

  I heard Faith say, “I’ll catch the next flight and meet you there…” before I closed the door behind me. A hot shower or a cold shower? Either way, I was doomed. A cold shower to quell the longings in my loins, or a hot shower to steam away the loneliness that settled in my gut? And Faith hadn’t even left yet.

  That night, Faith rang and gushed about my delicious dinner and our intense coupling. I couldn’t stop thanking her for the diamond necklace and telling her how much I missed her.

  “How’s it going over there, though?” I asked. She was a restaurant whisperer. She managed to save more establishments from going under than all the men on her team. I was so damn proud of her and didn’t blame her for wanting to shine in a field where women were just being recognized as knowing a thing or two.

  “I think they’re willing to work within my plan, starting with getting rid of the head chef.” Enthusiasm filled her voice. “That was the hardest part too, as the chef is Bill’s—the owner’s—brother-in-law, and Bill’s wife owns half the business. With this and a few other major changes, I believe they have a strong chance of staying viable. What a mess, though. Thank you for understanding.” Faith sounded upbeat and completely in her element. This pleased me.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, so please hurry home and stay safe.”

  She blew me kisses, and I saved them all. I spent Sunday morning fixing the toilet, planning to surprise Faith with my plumbing prowess. Then I went for a mid-morning run. After my second shower that morning, I was high on endorphins and texted my trusted friend and colleague Debs, on the off chance she was free for a matinee and dinner, nothing fancy, She was, and so we made a plan.

  While I lived on Long Island, my best friend, Deborah Foster-Baker, a.k.a. Debs, resided in Manhattan. We of
ten hung out near Roosevelt Field Mall as a suitable midpoint location with lots of options for activities. Driving to meet her took about thirty to forty minutes by car, depending on the Northern State or Long Island Expressway traffic. Her train ride from Penn to Westbury or Carle Place was around the same.

  I had wanted to see The Dark Knight with Christian Bale and Heath Ledger for some time. Debs was a real pal, not only meeting at the spur of the moment, but agreeing to the movie of my choice. Whenever Faith refused to see another super-hero or sci-fi flick, Debs was my best bet for companionship. Even when our entertainment tastes didn’t match, Debs was open to experiencing every genre imaginable. If I wanted to see a movie on the big screen before it went to DVD or cable TV and Faith had no intentions of enduring something she didn’t find intellectually gratifying, then she had no objections about me going with a friend. Besides, with Faith often traveling to further locales and wherever demand for her services were required, I think she felt relieved whenever I had plans, perhaps because she felt it absolved her from being away from home so much.

  With time to spare, I left the house for the Westbury train station to pick up Debs. As it turned out, I got there a few minutes ahead of time, so I bought us some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.

  Debs arrived at the rendezvous point nearest the ticket office of the station just as I pulled up. Her medium-length layered hair, a deep brown with golden highlights and delicate bangs, had long, finger-like locks that pointed to the notable contours of her cheekbones. The way the hairstyle was so freshly coiffed, it nicely framed her oval face.

  “Hi there!” I said, as she breezed into my car with a smile. Think Lara Croft from Tomb Raider meets Sex in the City, and Debs came to mind: athletic, beautiful, savvy, and on any given day, probably hornier than even me. Shocking, but true. She was also a fashion maven, dressing corporate perfect at work and super-sexy at play. She knew what to wear for any occasion and looked hot in everything. She loved shopping at Roosevelt Field.

  “This is a nice surprise. You saved me from doing laundry in the dregs of my apartment building.” When Debs spoke, she had your undivided attention, because you couldn’t look anywhere else but into her dark brown eyes or at her red lips.

  “Whew, wouldn’t want to waste time off doing mundane chores.” I handed her the bag. “Here, I bought you a coffee if you want one.”

  “Bless you. I didn’t have time to drink anything before boarding, but this is just perfect. Thanks.”

  She took a sip of the brew, light, without sugar and no longer scalding, and replaced the lid. “What happened to your romantic weekend? Faith off on business again?”

  “Yes, you guessed it. The anniversary dinner was exceptional, though.” I didn’t share the details, but I opened my jacket and showed her the diamond instead.

  “Oh, wow! This is incredible. Somebody put out a lot to deserve it.”

  “Shut up.”

  Debs giggled. I pulled away from the curb, and when I didn’t elaborate, Debs kindly let the subject drop. Debs and I were close, but that didn’t include sharing intimate details about our sex lives. At least I preferred to keep some things private, Debs not so much; but that was her prerogative.

  We both loved the film: all two hours and fifty-some-odd minutes of it went by in a flash, and we decided to finish off the night sharing a meal at TGI Friday’s.

  “No mentioning work, okay?” I said as we walked into the restaurant. It was already crowded, but the wait for a table was tolerable, so we put our name down on the list.

  “I’ll do you one better. The first one to say anything work-related buys. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I said, although it was not an easy task after we’d spent years working together within the same department. We had even followed each other up the corporate ladder, where we grew along with an ever-expanding company. Not talking shop was like having a brand-new puppy and not bragging about him or her to anyone who’d listen.

  Working together in a business we both believed in went a long way to keeping our dedication and job satisfaction fairly high. It wasn’t as if there were never any grievances at all, but as far as jobs went, Scott Spencer Enterprises was more than decent: to motivate us toward healthy lifestyle choices, we received company-subsidized gym memberships, and once we got holiday food vouchers for a thirty-day supply of fresh fruits, salads, and vegetables from a local Korean market. Faith and I saved a fortune that month on our shopping bill.

  Debs and I each ordered salad with chargrilled chicken breasts—dressing on the side, minus cheese, bacon and croutons—as our main entrées. We knew the bar-restaurant chain specialized in affordable food and huge portions, a reason it was always busy and, for us, a reason to avoid eating there. But it was near the movie theater, and we had opted for convenience. Still, when our orders arrived, we gaped at the enormity of the portion size.

  “This could very well feed a small nation,” I quipped.

  Debs nodded. They got the order wrong. She started picking out the fattening stuff, but soon gave up.

  I tried to catch the waitress’s attention, but she was too busy to stop. My stomach was already growling after watching the almost three-hour epic movie without so much as a kernel of popcorn.

  “Oh, go for it,” Debs said. “You raised your metabolism running this morning, didn’t you?”

  “That’s not the point. How hard is it to get our orders right?”

  “At least the dressing is on the side.” Debs popped a chunk of chicken into her mouth. “Yummy, but this doesn’t taste low fat to me.”

  “Me neither,” I said. “They probably pump the chicken breasts full of saturated fat and salt to make it grill up nicely. It tastes good, but it’s not as healthy as it could be.”

  “Let’s not harp and just enjoy,” she said, but I couldn’t let it go.

  “I hate it when I order the healthiest option on the menu and get the exact opposite,” I said, but couldn’t stop myself from stuffing forkfuls of chicken loaded with bacon and cheddar into my mouth.

  While the servers seemed to have been abducted by aliens, the bar staff had plenty of time to talk us into specialty drinks.

  “Let’s order strawberry daiquiris and really go to hell with ourselves,” Debs said.

  “You’re a very bad influence. I’m driving, so I’ll have a taste of your daiquiri, and we can share dessert.”

  We were much too absorbed in talking about the movie to pick out the bacon and cheese. Debs’s drink was to die for, and we shared the Brownie Obsession.

  After we’d done all but lick the plate, I put down my spoon and groaned. “I ate way too much.”

  “Me too. We’ll be better tomorrow.” Debs had a quick look at her cell phone. “Oh well, it’s been real. Let’s get the check.”

  “I guess we split it, since no mention of work was made.”

  “Imagine that! Where is our waitress anyhow? I need to head home.”

  “You can crash in our spare room if you want.”

  “I’m wide awake now. Hopefully, the train will lull me into sleep mode by the time I get back to my apartment. Besides, I don’t have any work clothes with me, and the thought of leaving extra early in the morning to grab something just doesn’t appeal. But thanks anyway.”

  I dropped her at the Westbury train station and waited the fifteen minutes for the next train to arrive. We said our goodbyes.

  Catching up with Debs was always fun, especially on days off. It took the edge off missing Faith.

  CHAPTER 2

  Monday morning rolled around before I was ready to relinquish my dream: Faith and I were basking on a white sandy beach, sipping mai tais while warm salt water tickled our toes. A warning signal blared in the distance. Serenity vanished before we could react. No raft, we were totally unprepared. But we had each other to cling to.
/>   Just as a huge wave was about to land on our heads, the sound of the alarm clock catapulted me into reality. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over my head. With a pounding heart, I hit the clock radio button, hoping I pressed off and not snooze. As a backup, I had set both my clock and phone alarms. But waking up to music didn’t work. If anything, songs or mindless chatter between DJs lulled me back to la-la land. Faith was a much better wake-up call.

  Having a low tolerance for toxic substances of any kind, even sugar, I was still feeling sick. I really could have done without TGI Fridays. Even sharing a Brownie Obsession, with enough fat and calories for a whole day, had pushed me way over my limit. I had such trouble sleeping afterwards, made harder because I didn’t relish sleeping alone. With a wicked sugar hangover, it was no surprise that the first hour at work on a hectic Monday morning was going to be a total waste, spent removing the cobwebs from my brain and detoxing from eating too much.

  By the time I arrived at work, Debs was at her desk, and the office was all abuzz with activity.

  “You’re early. Show off,” I told her.

  “Move to Manhattan,” she replied.

  “And pay through the nose? That’s not going to happen.”

  I grabbed a fistful of memos. Some things at Scott Spencer Enterprises had remained antiquated, like still receiving memos on top of e-mails. “What have we got?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The stack of stuff in my hand and on my desk was daunting. Most of our clients were large firms who could well afford to seek out-of-network consulting services and therefore felt they had the right to exacting standards that kept us busy. Scott Spencer Enterprises had a reputation of putting cost-effective programs in place without bankrupting companies before those companies could reap the benefits of improved employee morale and performance. If people were happy and healthy, they were often more productive. It helped to have personal incentives, reward systems and peer support.