After Hours (16 page)

"What happened to your parents?"

"Both dead. I don’t know how. Don’t care how because it wouldn’t change anything.”

Curtis silently swore. She was an orphan with no ties. That would be a problem. His father liked to know a person’s bloodlines, but he’d handle that problem when the time came. He gathered her close, as if protecting her from that threat. He’d deal with everything one at a time. First, he had to remember the reflection in the car mirror and why her umbrella mattered.

“You’re still tense,” she said, her head resting on his chest.

“There’s something I’m trying to remember,” he said, he didn’t want her worrying about another nosebleed. But when he felt her stiffen, he realized he’d said the wrong thing. If she knew he got his memory back, it meant the end of their charade. Ending it now wasn’t an option, not until his memory was whole again. “I think I saw who attacked me,” he clarified. He felt her relax.

“Your memory will soon come back to you.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “I know this might not be the right time to say this, but--”

He kissed her. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say. He didn’t want to talk anymore. As he held her in his arms he was free from doubt, from worry, from shame and when they became one again, all he wanted to do was delve into sweet ecstasy.

***

She was an evil woman.
Amera lifted herself up on her side of the bed and gazed down at Curtis as he lay sleeping on his back. She didn’t know how he could stay so still. He was a marvelous, wonderful, magnificent lover. She’d never had sex before and now she wanted to do it again and again and again with no one but him. He exceeded her every imagination. Not that she imagined a lot. She’d heard women discuss sex, some with disdain and some with awe, but she’d always thought it would be something nice to try sometime.

But it was better than ‘nice’ it was even better than ‘good’. She couldn’t come up with enough superlatives that satisfied her. He’d awakened a woman in her she hadn’t even known had been asleep. All her senses felt alive--colors seemed brighter, sounds clearer, the scent of his skin like an intoxicating aroma. He was amazing and she was taking advantage of him. It was one thing to change his mind about closing the factory and getting money for Peale House, and even getting him to help Bill, but to use his body for her own pleasure? She had crossed the line.

Why did he have to be so good at it? Why did it have to feel so right? She’d felt certain her deception had been discovered when his nose started to bleed. For a moment, she expected him to come to his senses and say ‘What the hell am I doing?’ but instead he looked embarrassed. He’d never been embarrassed about his nosebleeds before, not with her. And, as she grabbed the tissues, she felt as if this was where she belonged. By his side. Not just in bed, but always.

“How long are you going to stare at me like that?” Curtis asked, his eyes still closed.

Amera sighed. She should forget about the office party and the clothes, pretending to be his wife and getting revenge. Sure, she could use him, but she was hurting herself. The awful thing was that she liked him now. Much more than she should.

Curtis opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Amera bit her lip then said, “I’m an evil woman.”

His face relaxed into a wicked grin. “And I’m a bad man.”

She shook her head. “It’s not the same.”

He stood up and started to change. “Let’s eat,” he said pulling up his pants. He turned to her and winked, making her heart leap. “Then you’ll model what you plan to wear to the office party.”

***

“What’s this?” Florence asked looking at the check Amera had handed her.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.”

“A check made out to you.”

“I signed it over to Peale House on the back. Happy holidays.”

“How did you get him to do this?”

She didn’t want to tell her friend about her deception. Only she and Owen could know about it. “He owed me a favor.”

Amera was glad to be out of the house away from him, although distance didn’t keep him far from her mind. They’d spent most of the last two days in bed and when they weren’t in bed they hotly debated topics they’d never agree on, and discussed some projects he wanted to launch in the future. She liked his sharp mind, how he challenged her and treated her as his equal. Their topics of conversation weren’t sexy, but they were real. She got to see another side to him--a human side. That morning she’d seen how much so. She had been sneaking a melon from the fruit spread the chef had laid out when she heard Curtis’ footsteps.

She turned around and screamed.

Curtis spun around then stared back at her confused when he didn’t see anything behind him. “What?”

He was a shark in a suit.
He looked so much like the old Curtis that Amera half expected him to demand what she was doing in his house. Could his memory have returned already? Amera leaned against the kitchen island unable to get her mouth to move. She hadn’t seen him in a suit since he’d left the hospital.

Curtis took a hesitant step forward. “Are you okay?”

No, his memory hadn’t returned. He wouldn’t have asked her that if it had. She started to relax, then felt foolish for her outburst. “Yes, I’m sorry.” Amera cleared her throat. “I didn’t hear you coming.” She sat down and took a deep, shaky breath.

He sat down beside her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” she said, looking out at the clear December morning and the manicured lawn. She couldn’t look at him, not yet. “Why are you dressed up?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Because I’m going out.”

Amera turned to him alarmed. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you still need to rest.”

Curtis rested his arm on the back of her chair and leaned in to kiss her on the neck. “Thanks to you, I feel very rested.”

The warm pressure of his lips made her skin tingled. She touched a hand to her face, feeling flustered. That was a problem. She couldn’t be flustered, she had to always be two steps ahead of him. If she’d been thinking correctly, over the weekend she would have been prepared for Monday and a moment like this. She hadn’t even thought about how she could get her job back. Her two weeks were up. How could she tell him that he’d fired her, but had made a mistake? Plus, she couldn’t have anyone at the office know about them being married.

“I still think you should take another week. At least until after Christmas.”

Curtis leaned back in his chair. “Do I look like my father to you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes slightly narrowed. “I meant, do I look like the kind of man who needs to work from home because he’s so sick?”

“Oh,” Amera said, clearing her throat and feeling her face grow warm.

“I’m not my father.”

“I didn’t say you were,” she said surprised by the ice in his tone. “Just that you look like him. Except...” She let her words fall away.

“Except what?”

“You’re better looking.”

Curtis rubbed his chin clearly pleased by her words. “Of course.”

“Now about work--”

“I’m not going to the office. I have other errands I want to do, so you have the day off.” He stood up then bent down to kiss her. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“But--”

“Don’t worry,” he said heading down the hall. “I won’t over do it.”

Amera jumped up and followed him. “You haven’t eaten breakfast.”

He put on his jacket. “I’ll grab something later.”

“But where are you going?”

He grinned. “If you must know, I haven’t done my holiday shopping yet.” He kissed her again then left.

Holiday shopping. She hadn’t expected him to say that. He was just one surprise after another. But the sight of him in a suit had shaken her and persuaded her to give Florence the check he’d written out to her, before his memory returned. She wasn’t fully sure how to deal with a man who looked like Curtis, but didn’t always act like him. Should she buy him something for Christmas? It was next week. Should she stay around that long? How could she convince him to stay home the rest of the week?

These thoughts filled her mind after she left Florence and wandered the shopping mall. She didn’t know what to get him. He was a man who had everything--except a real wife.

***

“What did she come by for?” Vernon asked, looking through the window to watch Amera get in her car.

“She came to drop off a check.”

He turned to her. “Don’t cash it.”

Florence waved the check. “Why not? Money is money.” She held the check with both hands and held it like a banner. “And look at all those pretty zeros.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Florence put the check in a drawer then locked it. “You’ve been real jumpy these last few days.”

He returned his gaze to the window. “I’ve just got a few things on my mind.”

Florence came from behind the desk, stood beside him and said in a soft voice, “What things?”

Damn, he wished he could tell her, but he knew he couldn’t.
“You know I don’t like her coming here. What if you cash that check and she starts asking how we spent it?”

“I’ll give her a good story.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. “Relax, it’s not that much and it should keep her at bay for awhile. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

Vernon held her close, hoping she was right.

***

Bill rubbed his eyes in disbelief when he saw Curtis enter the factory. He rushed up to him, ready to report. “Sir, as you can see, everything is running on schedule. The machine wasn’t damaged as a result of the accident and we only lost a few hours that day so--”

“Where’s the mother?”

“She’s over there,” he said, pointing to one of the machines. “She’s very sorry about--”

“Bring her and her brother to see me,” he said turning towards the office.

“May I ask where Ms. Thurston is?”

“No.”

Bill silently swore. At least Amera could give him a clue as to what Curtis was thinking. He reluctantly gathered Maria and her brother Jorge and told them to follow him. They were excellent workers. Their family was third generation Pennsylvanians, who’d fallen on hard times, and he hated knowing that soon they’d have to look elsewhere for employment.

“Sit down,” Curtis said once they entered the office.

The two sat, their eyes never leaving him. Bill stood off to the side.

Curtis held his hands behind his back. “How is your son?”

“Fine,” Maria said in a shaky voice. “He’ll be able to keep his hand.”

“Good.”

“But--,” she stopped when her brother sent her a hard look.

“But what?” Curtis said.

“Nothing sir,” Jorge said.

He looked at Maria. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Okay.” He nodded at Jorge. “That’s a quality shirt you’re wearing. I noticed you wearing a similar one the other day. Where did you get them?”

“My sister made them.”

“Really? You have your own business?”

“No, sir,” she said quickly. “It’s just something I do on the side.”

He nodded. “Make me three shirts and I’ll pay for your son’s extra medical expenses.”

She gasped and tears sprung to her eyes. She surged to her feet and clasped her hands together. “Oh sir, thank you.”

Curtis turned to Bill embarrassed by her exuberance. “Get a tape measure.”

“Sir, we can’t thank you enough,” Jorge said, shaking his hand.

“It’s a simple exchange,” Curtis said in gruff tone. “One that no one can know about.”

***

Making people happy was so easy
, Curtis thought on his drive home. He hadn’t gone there initially to do so, but he didn’t regret it. Out of habit, he turned to ask Amera her opinion then remembered that she wasn’t there and he couldn’t let her know what he was up to. It had been an exploratory visit because he’d noticed the young man’s shirt and wanted to know who made it. When it came to clothing, he could always spot fine craftsmanship. Bill was right, Valdan had a talented work force. While Maria took his measurements, he’d learned that Jorge had gotten a computer degree, but worked at the factory because he’d learned some outdated computer languages and hadn’t been able to get a job in the field. He could get the factory to stay open a little longer, but perhaps there was a way to keep it open permanently.

Feeling sorry for the rats? Do you want to be a rat too?
Curtis winced as if his father had spoken the words and followed them with a slap. It didn’t matter, if no one knew about it. He couldn’t be seen as weak. But it felt strange that seeing Maria and Jorge’s joy made him feel strong not weak. It didn’t make sense. Why would his father and grandfather warn him against this? He must be missing something. He rubbed the side of his head feeling a headache begin to develop. He had to tread carefully.

He took out his cell phone to make a dinner reservation and started to dial then stopped. He couldn’t take Amera out. They couldn’t be seen together as a couple if he wanted this charade to work. He put his phone away. Fortunately, it didn’t stop him from shopping for a gift.

Two hours later he regretted the impulse. He sat in a luxury department store with two personal shoppers on either side of him and a host of items displayed in front of him with no clue what to choose. He’d never had to shop for someone before. He’d always had someone else do that trivial act for him. And for the past five years that person had been Amera. He now realized how little he knew about her. He knew her past and that Bill had saved her life, but he didn’t know what colors she liked or if she’d prefer hand beaded crystal jewelry over an Australian glass vase.

He stood hating the feeling of inadequacy. “Never mind.”