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Authors: Karin Kallmaker

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Car Pool (15 page)

BOOK: Car Pool
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“Sounds typically NOC-U,” Anthea said. She sipped the iced tea she had ordered. “Competence is expensive.”

Shay gave a short, unamused laugh. “Not necessarily… I saw the payroll sheet once. These dummies are not cheap to the company. It’s so bad I keep thinking it’s deliberate.”

“Deliberate? Why would they do it deliberately?”

“To make it look like they’re spending money on groundwater control while they do absolutely nothing.”

“But that would be wrong.”

Shay looked at Anthea, and blinked several times. After a moment, she said, “I’ve worked on a lot of cleanup sites. You’d be surprised at how much company management will lie, cheat and steal to avoid spending money on cleanups. They’ll go to almost any lengths.”

“But if they knew about it, surely they’d do something.”

“If the managers of industrial firms cared about people and the earth more than profits, maybe. But that’s just not the case.”

Anthea stared at her glass for a few minutes. “Maybe it’s just incompetence. It does seem to rise to the top at NOC-U. The people I’ve seen promoted surprise me.”

“They promote people with the same thinking. It’s self-perpetuating.” Shay leaned back in her chair and stretched her legs.

Anthea concentrated on what Shay was saying to keep herself from staring. Trim and muscular, these legs were not the kind that usually attracted her. Lois had jogged regularly, but her legs weren’t as

slender. She didn’t know how Shay kept them that way when she didn’t have a spare moment to run.

“I’ve seen two kinds of management styles in toxic-producing corporations. The incompetents who truly thought that if they ignored the problem it would go away. And then there are the people I’d say are truly evil who add up the numbers and decide other people’s lives are less important than the money. So they do nothing or they dump in someone’s backyard. And when the EPA catches them they use lawsuits and appeals to keep on doing nothing. And then they try bankruptcy and the people who let everything go that long take their golden parachutes and someone else gets to deal with it.”

“—it’s her favorite speech,” Harold was saying. “Next comes the part about the rainforest and global warming.”

Shay glared at Harold. “Anthea is a complete innocent about toxic waste. And NOC-U produces it. It’s an oil refinery, for God’s sake.”

Adrian arched his eyebrows at Shay. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were a despoiler of innocents. I should take Anthea away from your influence.”

“I’m not an innocent,” Anthea said. “But I guess I never really thought about it.” She suddenly felt stupid and gauche. “I keep forgetting what NOC-U makes. All I ever see are numbers and volumes. I’m an accountant, not an engineer.”

“You sound like Dr. McCoy,” Harold said.

“You could be an accountant for lots of other companies,” Shay said. “Nonprofits would be thrilled to have you, even in this lousy job market.”

The very idea of looking for another job frightened Anthea. Wasn’t she better off with a situation she knew? “Next you’ll be calling NOC-U the patriarchy,” she said with a smile.

“It is,” Shay and Adrian said simultaneously. They grinned at each other.

“Andy,” Adrian said, “haven’t you ever noticed that there’s only one woman on the board of directors? She happens to be the only person of color, too.” Anthea flushed. She felt picked on. It must have shown in her face because Adrian added, “I’d die if you didn’t work there. And any semblance of the corporation’s knowing anything about what anything costs would cease to be.”

“Not that there’s any correlation between cost and price of goods,” Anthea said. “Our unit’s only function is to make sure the profit margin exists. I’ve always known that. It just never bothered me before.”

“Innocence lost,” Adrian said. He looked at Harold. “I remember when it happened to me.”

“You must tell me about it.”

“They’re at it again,” Shay said in a whisper to Anthea. “I haven’t seen this much flirting since lunchtime in junior high.”

Anthea offered to give Harold a lift home, which he accepted, and the Bug hummed its way up a steep alley off Castro Street. In one fluid motion, Harold vaulted from the back seat to the curb. Adrian applauded.

Shay said, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” but Harold

didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he was writing his work extension number down for Adrian.

Adrian took the piece of paper and, while looking up at Harold, said, “Tell me. Is it true what they say about black men?”

Harold leaned on the car and looked down at Adrian’s feet. “Is it true what they say about the size of a man’s feet?”

“Oh my,” Adrian said. “It’s true.”

Anthea shrieked and covered her face with her hands.

Shay said, “Do you think that if you tried you could be any less subtle?”

Harold said to Adrian, “Women are such prudes.”

Anthea let out the clutch and the little car shot away, leaving Harold waving. Adrian and Shay waved back until they turned the corner.

“Sorry I embarrassed you,” Adrian said, leaning forward. Anthea didn’t think he sounded in the least bit sorry. “Believe me, that was tame compared to what I’ve heard has gone on in this car. These little stains back here, for instance —”

“I don’t want to know,” Anthea said. What on earth was Shay thinking, she wondered.

Maybe the car’s past would rub off on Anthea, Shay thought. Maybe when they were finally alone in the car, she’d ravish her and make passionate, thorough love to her. The Legend was a nice car, but it hardly inspired the libido.

There. She had finally admitted exactly what she wanted Anthea to do. And she wanted to return the

passion. She wanted Anthea to be aggressive and demanding. And why, she asked herself, did she want the one thing Anthea was least likely to do? She was so … feminine.

They reclaimed Anthea’s Acura from the garage and Adrian said he was going to spend some time with his friend and would find his own way home. He gave Anthea the pink slip and then waved them away.

Shay offered to lead the way to the Bay Bridge, since Anthea had no idea where she was, then Anthea would take over and Shay would follow her. With Adrian’s help they put the top up and Shay kept a lookout for the VW’s round headlights behind her as they drove away.

She didn’t put great store in creature comforts. She’d lived in too many less developed areas to think an expensive car was the be-all and end-all of existence. Still, there was something to say for a car that was in good working condition and that sported a 20 CD mixer and wall-to-wall sound. A stereo like this would drown out the Horizon’s bad cylinder. She enjoyed the experience of driving a car that probably cost as much as what she’d make this year, knowing she wasn’t likely to repeat it. And now that she thought about it, this car would probably provide room for agile people to try new things. She told herself not to think about it, but it was like someone telling you not to think of a white bear. The more she told herself to think about anything but making love to Anthea the more she thought about Anthea’s hands and legs and hips and thighs.

When she’d first met Anthea, Shay had thought her cold. Pleasant, but emotionless. The first time

!

she had genuinely laughed, Shay had been startled. After that she had gone out of her way to make Anthea laugh. She forced herself to face facts. She might be able to get Anthea to laugh, but Anthea would never bubble or chatter. And Shay had always been attracted to bubbly, voluble women. In fact, Anthea was a hundred and eighty degrees different from the kind of woman Shay usually lusted after.

The VW passed her on the Bay Bridge and Shay changed lanes to follow it. They didn’t take 1-80, much to Shay’s surprise, since that was the way they always went home from work. Instead, they went through the MacArthur Maze, and dropped down onto 24, which would eventually take them through the Caldecott Tunnel to Orinda and Walnut Creek. She assumed they’d get off the freeway long before that. Anthea could hardly live in the height of the Claremont district.

At the last exit before the tunnel, she followed Anthea off the freeway, then eventually found herself behind the Claremont Hotel. They wound up some fairly steep streets, but the Legend had no trouble with them. Shay wondered if her Horizon could make it. They were going right up to the top. Where rich people lived.

Anthea turned left into a driveway and Shay pulled in behind her. “Wow,” she said, as she handed over Anthea’s keys. “You must have an incredible view.”

“Come take a look,” Anthea said, as Shay had hoped she would. She’d try not to drool on anything. “Would you like some coffee or tea,” Anthea asked as she unlocked the front door.

“Tea would be nice,” Shay said. “Oh my.” She

stood still, staring around the entryway. As Anthea turned the lights on, Shay fell in love with the light oak hardwood parquet that gave way to a pale rose carpet in the living room. The shades of color in the wallpaper were subtle, like Anthea’s moods. Shay couldn’t believe she’d once thought Anthea moody. “This is like something out of Architectural Digest.” The furniture was a simple, clean style — subtle geometries at work, no floral prints. Shay was willing to bet it hadn’t come from Sears.

“It is nice, isn’t it? The view is this way.” Anthea unlocked the sliding glass door that led to a deck. “It didn’t used to be so good, but the fire took all the trees. Now you can see much better, but I’d rather have the trees back.”

Shay stood in awe. Through the hazy dark she could see the Golden Gate, the Bay Bridge and all of the Oakland estuary. She was actually looking down on the Claremont Hotel. Her knees suddenly felt weak, and she dropped into a chair at the patio table. Anthea wasn’t comfortably well off. She was rich.

Anthea returned with china teacups — on saucers, no less. Shay sipped timidly from her cup and discovered it was not as delicate as it looked, so she relaxed. Anthea had money, but it wasn’t an insurmountable obstacle. “It’s so quiet,” she said. “Just the crickets and an occasional car.”

“For a while after the fire there weren’t even the crickets. I stood here at night and it was kind of creepy. But they’re back. When it isn’t so hazy, I can see Sausalito. It’s kind of limited tonight.”

“I’ll take it,” Shay said. She wondered what Anthea would do if Shay suggested spreading a

blanket out on the deck and… she clenched her thighs. Oh, dear. Think about a white bear, she told herself.

“We need music,” Anthea said. “I’ll find something.”

By the time Anthea returned, Shay could hear the swelling tones of Stomu Yamashta. She relaxed even further. She used to meditate to music like this.

“I don’t think I’d ever leave home,” Shay said. She tipped her head back and looked at the stars. She imagined Anthea standing over her, leaning down, kissing her. White bear. White bear. She closed her eyes against the vision and clenched the arms of her chair.

What seemed only moments later there was a soft touch on her shoulder. Shay sat bolt upright, shocked that she had actually fallen asleep. Anthea retreated.

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d get a horrible crick in your neck if I let you sleep much longer.”

Shay twisted her neck around. It had a familiar ache, the kind of ache it had after she’d spent a considerable amount of time between … don’t start that again, she chided herself. White bear. Don’t start. White bear. Her body felt as if she’d been in a hot tub. What on earth had she been dreaming about? The sensation between her legs … she’d obviously been dreaming about sex. Probably about Anthea. Oh, great.

“Thanks,” she managed to say. “What time is it?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“Oh.” It was time for all good guests to go home. Argh. She stood up. “I can’t believe I was so rude.”

“Mrs. Giordano will think I’ve kept you out too late on a school night,” Anthea said. She didn’t sound offended.

Shay sat quietly in the passenger seat while Anthea drove the Legend down out of the hills.

“See you tomorrow,” Anthea said. “Thank you for helping me get the VW.”

“It was fun. And thank you for dinner. That was fun, too.” This was the point where Anthea was supposed to suggest they do it again. Shay waited a moment, then felt very awkward, so she started to open her door.

“Shay,” Anthea said. Shay turned back. Anthea lightly touched Shay’s lips with her own. Shay shivered and let out a tiny moan. Then she realized Anthea would figure out Shay was burning with desire and for some reason it seemed very important to hide that fact. She drew back sharply and bashed her head on the door window.

“I’m sorry,” Anthea said. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, my fault. I was just surprised.”

“I just wanted to thank you—”

“You didn’t have to stop —”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Shay rubbed the back of her head. “I… urn.”

“Well,” Anthea said, her face only partially illuminated by the dashboard light, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah. It’ll be all too soon.” Shay realized how that sounded. “I mean the morning, not seeing you.” She remembered she had to proofread her report. It felt like she had been away from work for weeks.

Anthea laughed. Shay had really made a fool of

herself, but at least Anthea had laughed. “I knew what you meant. See you in the morning.”

Shay staggered into her apartment and threw herself down on the bed. She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. What an utter fool she had made of herself. She had behaved like a child. Falling asleep … how could she have done such a thing? She felt the front of her jeans. At least her fly was buttoned. She threw one arm over her eyes as she upbraided herself. The other hand lazily rubbed the buttons, then she realized she was throbbing underneath the fabric.

Slowly, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid her hand downward and inward, as tantalizing yet direct as she had hoped Anthea would be. She closed her eyes and imagined Anthea’s fingers. In the dark, her pulse racing, her fingers slipped through the wetness she wasn’t surprised to find. Her heart rate soared with her passion.

7 Slippery When Wet

Shay seemed reticent to Anthea, but maybe she just hadn’t slept well. Anthea had slept miserably. Lois had been right — she was so boring she had put Shay to sleep. And then Shay had practically killed herself trying to avoid a kiss. Obviously she wasn’t Shay’s type and she’d only embarrassed them both. Meanwhile, last night she had been a mass of libidinous jelly.

BOOK: Car Pool
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