Madam of Maple Court (27 page)

"It's your rule. Can't you certainly break it if and when you want to?"

He stopped and thought. "I guess I could, and several women have asked me to. I don't know why I originally made it, but when I made it clear to women I went out with, it made it all easier. No one is disappointed when I don't call the next day."

"I just regret your rule and I'll hope you get in touch with me again. I'll be sad if you don't."

He scowled. "Want to see me again for a fee? Having sex with me is simple enough. Easy money."

Pam allowed her own scowl to show. "Think what you will, but the money has little to do with this. Okay, it did at first, but now that we've talked and I know you a little, I'd like to see you again. Is that so difficult to believe?"

He still looked skeptical. "Would you see me for free?"

How to answer? "Marcy and I discussed that and at first I didn't understand her rule against it. However, she said that her business depends on not letting her employees entertain her clients off the books, and I agreed to her terms. So I guess the answer is no. I value Marcy's friendship and my commitments too much to consider it."

He looked triumphant.

"However, if I were free to do so, I would."

"That's easy for you to say when you can't do it."

"True, but that's the way it is. You have only my word on it and, of course, I could say anything and not mean a word of it. You have no way of knowing, except what you know about me and my aversion to deception."

He remained silent and thoughtful until he put her into a cab so she could return to her garage. "What you said is bouncing around in my head. I'll think about my rules, and about you," he said, surprising her by leaning in and kissing her soundly as she sat in the taxi.

"Please do, and I'll hope to hear from you or Marcy."

As she drove toward the Henry Hudson Parkway her cell phone rang. She pulled over on West End Avenue, checked the caller ID, opened the phone, pushed the speaker button, and balanced it on her thigh. "Hi, Linc. What's got you up so late?"

"I just wanted to be sure everything went okay."

"You knew about my meeting with my client?" She was taken aback and embarrassed that Linc knew she was now a full-fledged prostitute.

"Marcy let it slip. I worry when anything goes on outside of the building and I wanted to be sure that you were okay with everything. You're pretty new at this, and maybe a little naive."

Her embarrassment was quickly replaced with annoyance and she let it show in her voice as she pulled back into traffic. "So you don't you trust my or Marcy's judgement. She okayed this guy seven ways from Sunday."

Linc spoke quickly. "Of course I trust her, but I just worry that you'll get into something you're not ready for."

"Don't sweat the small things," she snapped. She was angry at his interference and his lack of faith in her. She was also humiliated knowing he'd been thinking about her with Matt. "It's really none of your business."

"Marcy made it my business when she put me in charge of taking care of you."

"Well, stop. I can take care of myself. You can be my bouncer when you're at my place for a party, but when I'm by myself, butt out." She knew she was getting really out of line. He was only guilty of caring about her. She stopped herself and warmed as she considered his concern, and her voice softened. "I'm sorry, Linc," she said, her voice softer. "I'm really okay with all of this."

"That's all I wanted to hear. Good night."

"Good night, Linc. Thanks for caring."

"You're welcome."

She basked in his obvious affection and she delighted that she had no hangover from her first evening as a real working girl.

Men. Pam's life was beginning to be crowded with them. Who would have imagined it when Vin was killed? Now she was seeing Rob, who took her to Broadway theater, concerts at Lincoln Center, and dinners at the finest restaurants. From time to time she wondered at his slightly proprietary attitude, but he hadn't asked whether she'd begun working for Marcy. He had, however, introduced her to several business friends who planned to use her house for gatherings. Occasionally he bought her small gifts, but nothing as expensive as the pendant. Now his tokens were books he'd found that he thought she'd enjoy and CDs and DVDs of performances she'd mentioned she liked. It was getting difficult to mention liking something because he inevitably found a way to buy it for her.

She had seen Linc quite a few times. They ate pizza or take-out Chinese food at her kitchen table and made wonderful, hot, hungry love afterward. He too brought her the occasional present, but his gifts were sexy magazines and books with stories of couples making love in new and interesting ways. They even tried a few new things and she slowly became more and more adventurous.

Then there was Gary. He still spent the majority of his time in Europe, but they talked once or twice a week on the phone, e-mailed almost every day, and he'd hinted that when he returned and his life got "back to normal" he wanted to spend a day with her and his children. Children. She eagerly anticipated the day she'd meet his daughters.

In addition there was her party-planning business. She'd planned and hosted or was planning several weddings and engagement bashes for wealthy friends, friends of friends, and people who'd heard of her ability to make things entertainment happen. She was busier than she'd ever been, and happier.

Nothing had happened with her personal entertaining business since her evening with Matt. Marcy had told her that since so many men were on vacation with their families and companies cut back in July and August, the summer was usually slow in her business. Pam hadn't talked to Marcy in almost a month, so she was surprised and delighted when the phone rang one afternoon in late August.

"Up for something a bit more adventurous than Matt?" Marcy asked her after several minutes of light chatter.

"Like?"

"I've got a client with a hot tub fantasy. I'm sure you and your late husband liked to do it in your spa"—Pam and Vin had never done it in the backyard, but the vision of being there with Rob flashed through her mind as Marcy continued,—"and although he does other things here at the club, Chase has always wanted to do it outdoors. We can't oblige him here, of course, except in simulation. He also likes slightly more creative things than Matt. He's married but says his wife isn't interested in playing out any of his fantasies. He's a long-standing client and we've tried to oblige his wishes several times, but I think if we can use your backyard, he'll be in heaven and, of course, pay extra for finding the locale. We'll hire a limo to drive him to Westchester and try not to reveal too much about the location of your house."

"Did you tell him yes?"

"Of course not," Marcy said, surprised. "I said I'd always ask you first."

"Sorry. What kind of off-center things does he want?"

"He likes all forms of lovemaking, oral, and particularly being penetrated anally and the power it gives his partner, things he says his wife has declared off-limits. Your wonderful yard should be exactly what he wants. And one of these days you have to invite Zack and me up there so I can see this fabulous house and grounds of yours."

"Anytime. You just have to tell me when."

"We will. In the meantime, are you up to doing kinky things at your place?"

Pam thought of Matt's terrace and understood this new guy's desires. Doing it with the breeze in your face and the stars above was amazingly erotic. Her backyard would be the perfect place, lots of privacy and open space. Was there any danger in inviting a guy here for paid hanky-panky? What the hell. "Sure. Sounds fine."

"Oh, by the way, not to swell your head or anything, but Matt called and asked whether you might be available again. He's a bit odd, isn't he? With his no-second-date policy it nearly blew me away when he asked. He did, of course, make sure I knew that this wasn't necessarily going to change his rules with anyone else. He just wanted me to ask you."

"Tell him I meant what I said. He'll know what it means. And have him call me. I've gotten a prepaid cell phone." Pam gave Marcy the number, then continued, "About the hot tub thing, anything else I should know?"

"He wants you to do all the work and he sometimes brings a little goody bag with a few toys for you to use on him. Is that all okay with you?"

What an amazing conversation. "Do I need someone like Zack in residence?" She hated the thought of having him in her house while she was making love to another man, and she didn't know how he'd feel about it either.

"I don't think so. Chase is a longtime client and I would be totally shocked if anything got out of hand, so to speak. Oh, and he's also a probably candidate for using your house for parties. He's in Wall Street and probably entertains a lot."

"It all sounds good to me." Her second "customer." She wondered at her lack of remorse. Shouldn't she be worried about her morality? No. This was her time, and as long as no one, including this guy's wife, got hurt by what she did, it wasn't her concern. And she was having a hell of a good time!

The following Tuesday evening Pam watched the Cadillac town car with darkened windows Marcy had hired for Chase Hobart's drive to Westchester pull onto Maple Court, then drive up her driveway. The chauffeur had phoned as they turned off the highway just to be sure she was ready. She was.

Chase's entire demeanor screamed power and money. He climbed out of the car more gracefully than she'd ever seen a man move and walked up to the front door.

"Chase," she said, her voice warm and welcoming. She was surprised at how easy she felt, with only a frisson of the nervousness she'd had when she first met Matt. She was getting used to all this. "It's nice to meet you." She extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you, too, Pam." His handshake was firm, his hand warm, the skin soft.

"I understand you want to see my backyard, the pool and hot tub."

"I certainly do." He took a small attache case from the back seat and carried it with him.

Pam nodded to the driver, who pulled out of the driveway to find someplace to wait until he was called. "This way." She guided him through the house to the patio. "Would you like a drink first?"

"Thank you," he said, seeming relaxed yet assertive. "What can you offer?"

"See for yourself." She indicated the fully stocked bar, then showed him the large freestanding wine cellar. "I've got a good selection. There are several good vintages of both white and red. I'm a white bordeaux fan myself." Marcy had told her Chase was a bit of an oenophile and she counted on her knowledge to break down any barriers.

He set the case on a patio chair and said, "I'll have whatever you're having." A challenge?

She showed him the label on the bottle she'd selected, then, after he nodded in appreciation, with a few efficient movements opened a bottle of 1997 Pavilion Blanc de Chateau Margaux. "I've always been a white burgundy fan but I read an article recently on white bordeaux in
Wine News
and decided to give them another chance. I retasted one, then several. This one really knocked my socks off." She poured a small amount into a crystal glass and handed it to him. "Wonderful for a summer afternoon," she said as he closed his eyes in appreciation of the crisp, cool liquid.