Falling (6 page)

One glance in the mirror as she gathered her things…and she gasped out a sound that was, without doubt, an
eeeek
. The blonde cloud of frizz would need a whole greenhouse of flowers to urge it into anything resembling hair, trendy or otherwise.

If Cris saw her like this, he'd run all the way to the Keys and her previous mental discussion with herself would turn out to be moot.

Slowly and cautiously, she sneaked from the spa and crept to the elevators, praying she wouldn't see anyone along the way. The sanctuary of her now-tidy room was a relief and she almost cried at the sight of her flat iron, tucked into her cosmetic case.

"God, I love technology." She plugged it in and grabbed her styling mist. Some things were an absolute necessity. Thoughts about hot sex with handsome concierges could wait until after the beast had been tamed.

Which took more time than she'd expected, but it was Florida, it was summer and it redefined humidity, so all things considered-it wasn't surprising. The worst of the day's heat was waning when she was finally done, since she'd added a brief nap to her afternoon's non-schedule.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten much, and slipping into a comfortable sundress, she decided it was time to brave the outside world.

She hadn't been hiding in her room, of course, because that would have been the action of a cowardly woman who might, possibly, have been rather sinful. And that wasn't her.

Nope. Wasn't her at all. Just like she wasn't the woman who was rather hoping to be even more sinful.

Maybe.

God, she was so frickin' confused. She needed a drink, several of them perhaps, and then some food. Followed by a period of intense analysis and more drinks.

And Cris.

The heavy door to her room clanged shut behind her as she realized the only thing she really wanted was to see him again. To look at him and perhaps understand what was happening to her. To them. If there
was
a "them".

The flowers were as vibrant as ever as Jen walked through the foyer to the sound of music and laughter in the cocktail lounge. As the sun set, the large doors had been slid to the side, opening the room to the pool area beyond and the rising sound of night as it fell over the Sunshine State.

Tiny lights came on, fairy twinkles hinting at the flowers beneath which they were wired. Gentle blues rippled beneath the surface of the pool and an iridescent glow highlighted the water tumbling from the top of the man-made falls. Air masses changed with frequency at this time of year it seemed, so she wasn't surprised to find warm scented air replacing the shiver of air conditioning.

It was no longer a wet slap against hot flesh but a delicate caress.

It was exactly as it should be, thought Jen as she admired it. Hollywood meets the tropics, courtesy of Thomas Edison.

A louder burst of laughter drew her attention back to the bar and she moved toward it, noting a group of older visitors enjoying what must have been one hell of a joke.

"Here's a beauty, George." One senior gentleman with a shock of white hair waggled his eyebrows and stood at Jen's approach. "Might I ask you to join us my dear? It would be my pleasure to provide you with many drinks. I'm told my attraction multiplies by a factor of the number of empty glasses in front of a lovely woman."

Jen chuckled. "You're very kind. And given that statement, I'll take advantage of your offer for a drink. But just one. I doubt there are many women who could possibly withstand your charm after more than that."

He laughed appreciatively and held out his hand. "Palmer Miles, Daytona. It's a great pleasure."

Jen put her hand in his, pleasantly surprised when he raised it to his lips and elegantly placed a tiny kiss on her knuckles. "Jennifer Hodges, Boston. And I love gin and tonics."

"Then you shall have one." Palmer raised his hand theatrically. "A gin and tonic for this delightful vision, my good man."

Jen bit back a giggle. "On vacation, Palmer?" The drink appeared and she took a grateful sip, managing not to choke as she realized
my good man
had an extremely generous hand with the alcohol.

"I wish I was, but not this time." He leaned against the bar and looked around. "I'm lecturing."

"Really? In the bar?"

He grinned. "Har har. No, after dinner, I'll be talking to this lot about life, love and how they can sustain our…" he made appropriate gestures with his fingers…"
golden years
."

She tilted her head to one side and sipped again, enjoying the tart and fragrant bite of the liquor. "Can they?"

"Can they what?" He glanced at the dozen or so people enjoying cocktails. "Can they survive those fruity concoctions?"

Jen snorted. "No. I meant can life and love sustain us?"

"Of course. Along with a seriously fine single malt scotch and a good steak now and again." He smiled paternally. "I have no clue, my lovely. I hope so because I've lived and loved and intend to do a lot more of both until it's time to cock up my toes and move on to the next great adventure."

"And yet you will lecture these folks? Tell them what? Make believe stories?"

"No, no." He leaned toward her. "I will tell them what we all want to hear, my dear. Even you. I will give them hope. I will make them laugh. I will give them a reason to get up in the morning and mostly ignore the aches and pains that are the inevitable companions of advancing years." He touched her arm. "You should join us."

"Oh I…" She hesitated.

"Please? We'd love to have you sit in. It's informal, and a better way to pass the evening than sitting alone."

"Well, I might not…"

At that very moment, as chance would have it, she looked through the bar into the open foyer and saw a tall dark man getting into a taxi outside. She knew, without him turning around, that it was Cris.

Where he was going, who he was going to see-obviously she didn't know. Equally obviously she was indeed doomed to spend the evening alone.

Something tiny and sharp twisted in her heart and she lifted her chin, doing her best to ignore it. "Thank you Palmer. You're very kind. I believe I will join you."

"That's the ticket, my sweet. That's the ticket."

Chapter 8

He crossed and uncrossed his legs for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. This meeting was endless, the capacity of the hotel chain chairman to wax poetic seemed infinite, and the numbers he was reciting held nothing new for anyone who had perused the monthly reports from head office.

Cris had and he was bored out of his fucking skull.

He'd spent the first fifteen minutes being reassured that all was well and his hotel was running smoothly enough to serve as an example to other locations. He smiled and made sure he complimented his staff, the fortunate arrival of several conventions in the area and all the usual crap trotted out at times like these.

Then the chairs had been pulled from a large table, the executives had seated themselves and the bullshit commenced.

Projections, developments, end-of-summer programs…the numbers droned on and on, sending him into a near-catatonic state of boredom. The last minute summons to attend was viewed by corporate as an honor. He tried his very best to endorse that sentiment.

And failed dismally. He'd had his evening all planned out and was looking forward to it.

The leisurely seduction of one Jennifer Hodges.

He'd worked like hell that afternoon, making sure all the more pressing business had been concluded, and that everything was functioning as smoothly as possible. The latest group of seniors had been checked in and settled, complimentary breakfast coupons were passed around and he'd heard the cheerful laughter that heralded another successful evening at the bar.

Dinner was a buffet of local delicacies and seafood brought in just that morning. Light but tasty, it was the perfect meal for a tropical night and there would be dancing later.

He'd hoped to hold her in his arms, to see how she fit against him, how she felt swaying to a slow primal rhythm. He'd make sure she had a couple of drinks just to relax her, but no more. He wanted her to know who was touching her, running his hands over her skin, slipping her clothes from that beautifully soft and curvy body…

He crossed his legs once more, clenching his teeth on a subdued groan. He wanted her, badly. There was desire there, desire for her body and her heat and her passion. But there was more, he knew. A deep urge to learn all there was about her and not just to delve into the mysteries between her thighs. She was complex, fascinating, troubled and, in some ways, needy.

And he realized he wanted to be needed for himself, for a change. Not as the high-powered manager of a successful hotel, but as a man.

They were a match made in some tropical heaven. And if the damn meeting went on much longer he might be forced to kill somebody to find out if that tropical heaven was in her hotel room or his suite.

He sighed and focused to the best of his ability.

Two hours later, the end of his tether had come and gone and was at least a mile behind him. It was all he could do to be polite and shake hands with the men who considered the evening a raging success.

And he barely suppressed a scream of frustration as he slipped into a cab for the half hour trip back to the Palms. It was a punch in the gut to realize the evening was pretty much over and done with. Bureaucratic bullshit had interfered at precisely the wrong time and kept him away from the most interesting woman he'd met in years.

It was definitely
Not. Fucking. Fair
.

Now he was going to have to rethink his campaign of seduction all over again. He reached for his phone. "Hey Evan, it's Cris. Need a favor…"

*~*~*~*

Jen had thoroughly enjoyed her evening. Which was a huge surprise, since if anyone had told her she'd have fun sitting with a bunch of folks older than her parents and listening to an admittedly wicked old man tell jokes with all the professional expertise of a comedian on a TV show-well, she'd have never believed it. Not in a million years.

But she had laughed with everyone else, listened intently as Palmer used that humor to get his point across, and at the conclusion applauded as loudly as anyone.

He was good. He was more than good, he was brilliant in many ways.

He'd held her captive with his words, rich and colorful, as he'd talked about his years of traveling with an advertising company. He touched on funny moments in airports far away, and sobering incidents where the civilization they all took for granted seemed absent.

He'd been in war zones and bazaars. He'd nearly bought a wife, he mentioned, only to realize the one he had wouldn't be pleased at the purchase. That made everyone laugh, but Jen had a suspicion he was telling the truth.

He was the ultimate mature bad boy and the several women in his audience were every bit as attentive as Jen. Some things about an attractive man never fade with time. And Palmer had more than his fair share.

His lecture was punctuated with references to his wife, who he referred to as his other half. Not better half, because he explained they were both human and therefore flawed. But the one person who complemented him perfectly. The rare person who understood him and shared so many of his interests. She also disagreed with him on a regular basis, wasn't shy about telling him he was wrong, and kept him in line. And when she looked at him he felt ten feet tall.

Jen had swallowed down a sigh. Palmer had been loved and loved in return. There were no perfect relationships, she realized as she listened. But if there was love, there was someplace to start from. To build on.

It dawned on her that Palmer wasn't mentioning his wife's name and always referred to her in the past tense. Sure enough, in a rare somber moment, Palmer touched on his wife's passing.

"A light went out for me that cannot ever be re-lit." His words were soft and echoed into the stillness that had fallen in the lounge. "But I know my wife will always be with me. And that, my friends, is how love will continue to illuminate what's left of my life. I won't marry again, but I will not be afraid to love, to share that magic if I find the right person who can return it. We can take love, use it, abuse it and ignore it. We can do a lot of things with and for love that we probably shouldn't. But how often do we just simply appreciate it? How often do we take a few moments from our day and say to ourselves
I am loved
. And if we do, can we fully comprehend the magnitude of those three words? How can we get away from the need to say
I love you
and understand that
I am loved
is equally important in this life equation?"

Jen leaned forward intently, wondering if Palmer was somehow speaking directly to her.

"I like to think that perhaps I can help you understand what it means to love and be loved. That it has to be a two-way street. If you love with all that you are, but receive less in return…you are being short-changed. Do something about it. If you love, but it's tempered with the flotsam of life, you are short-changing
yourself
. Do something about it."

He waved his hands, emphasizing their elegance along with his words. He was a consummate showman, and yet he was too close to the point for Jen's comfort.

"Life is short, my friends. Many of us are dealing with the annoying irritations we all will face as our years continue. We do so as best we can and consequently provide huge amounts of profitable income to more than a few pharmaceutical companies. Not to mention hair-replacement clinics." He grinned at the laughter. "We take meds for this, health supplements for that, and high-grade booze for everything in between."

Jen smiled. It was blunt and succinct, and probably not too far from the truth.

"But the best medicine is knowing how to love. And being loved in return. My wife loved me and I loved…more than I can ever say. I'm alone now, yes, but that love sustains me every day. I wake up knowing I'll never see that beloved face again, but warmed by the memories we made together." He glanced around. "If you're fortunate enough to still share breaths with the one you love, don't waste a moment of it. If you're like me, then relish the memories, stand tall on them, build on them and share the magic of that love with everyone you meet."