Pleasure for Pleasure (14 page)

“You want something to eat?” his dad asked, a skillet in hand.

“No, thanks. I have dinner plans.”

“Oh, a hot date?”

“Something like that.”

“Always so private, you. Just once I want to meet one of these girls you go out with. Good thing I'm here tonight, I can meet this one. What's her name?”

“Her name's Josie. But this isn't serious, so don't get any ideas in your head.”

“What you need is to find a nice girl to settle down with.”

“You're one to talk.”

His father flashed him an indignant look. “I had twenty-five good years with your mother. We got married young, but that's what kids did in those days. I never regretted a thing.”

Good
years? Trent has always assumed his dad looked back on his marriage with regret, that he'd missed the passion their marriage lacked. His recent skirt-chasing behavior had done little to discourage that theory. Rather, it had tarnished his mother's memory, and that made Trent angry.

“I didn't think you were happy with Mom.” A stab of pain sliced through Trent's gut. He'd come to terms with his mother's death, but he'd never completely gotten used to it, and occasionally the brutal reality of it hit him anew.

His father shot him a look of disbelief. “We had our problems, but your mother was my best friend. There's not a day goes by that I don't miss her.”

Trent blinked. He'd never discussed this subject with
his dad before, and maybe he'd made too many assumptions. Now that he thought about it, he had to admit that what his parents had lacked in passion, they'd made up for in other ways—strong friendship, happy family life, shared interests.

He suddenly got the feeling he'd been looking at relationships from the wrong angle all along.

Trent hadn't met a woman yet that he could envision himself having a happy marriage with—passionate or not. He sometimes doubted he ever would, and occasionally, that thought bothered the hell out of him. Other times, he figured he was lucky not to have to endure the pain of losing a loved one all over again.

“Are you seeing someone now?”

His father waved a hand in the air. “Women—who needs 'em.”

“Why did you break up with that last girl?”

He frowned, drying his hands on a towel. “She stole money from my wallet.”

“Sounds like you had yourself a real winner.”

“Hey, she was cute. That's all I knew.” He pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table.

“I know someone I think you'd like.”

“Oh, yeah? She got big knockers?”

This was the kind of thing that made Trent less than thrilled at times to have his dad around. “That's not exactly a politically correct way to say it.”

“So does she?”

Trent cringed. “She has a nice figure.”

“How old?”

“Does it matter?”

“I don't want some divorcée on the rebound. They spend the whole night complaining about their exes.”

“She's not a recent divorcée, and she's about your age, maybe a little younger.”

“Why are you so interested in fixing me up all of a sudden?”

“I think you'd like this woman, that's all.”

His dad shrugged. “Okay. Why not? Introduce us.”

That had been easy—too easy. His dad must have been even lonelier that Trent had first suspected.

He grabbed the cordless phone from the wall and went into the bedroom to call Josie. The phone rang three times before she picked up with a breathless “Hello?”

“Hey, it's me. What're you doing, running a marathon?”

“No.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I had to run for the phone before my mom picked it up. I didn't want her to hear if it was you.”

“Don't want her to know about us?”

“I don't want her getting the wrong idea, thinking we're an item when we're not.”

His stomach twisted and he told himself it was just his pride that smarted at the thought that Josie didn't want them to be “an item.”

“Sure, makes sense. I'm calling because my dad is moping around my apartment, and I hate to leave him here alone like this. I was thinking, your mom…my dad…”

“I'm listening.” From the sound of her voice, he could picture the perplexed crease forming across her forehead.

“Maybe we could fix them up.”

“Oh. Jeez, I don't know. I mean, I can't remember the last time my mother dated someone her own age.”

“Yeah, well, same for my dad. They're perfect for each other.”

Josie sighed. “She hates matchmaking.”

“So we'll make her think their meeting is accidental.”

“But how?”

Right—how?

“Uh, invite her to dinner with you tonight. I'll take my dad along, and you guys will walk by our table and you can act like you're just bumping into us. Then we'll invite you to join us.”

“Hmm. But what about our lesson?”

“I'll buy you dinner instead, and we'll reschedule the lesson.”

“Isn't that breaching our student-teacher relationship?” she said, her tone teasing.

“Most student-teacher relationships don't involve sex lessons, so I think we can make up the rules as we go.”

“And our rules allow dinner on you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tell me where you want to meet, then I'll call you back to let you know if I can talk my mom into dinner.”

“How about that new Italian place on Irving?”

“Trattoria Venezia?”

“That's it.”

“Okay, I'll call you back in a few.”

Trent disconnected and sank back on his bed. He stretched his arms over his head and closed his eyes, indulging in thoughts of what he'd hoped to be doing on his bed tonight. Images of Josie, the arch of her back, the fullness of her breasts, the honey-colored triangle of curls he longed to bury his face in… He groaned and sat up. No, if he kept on thinking like that he'd have to
kick his dad out on the streets and drag Josie in here pronto.

What he needed was patience, distraction, a bucket of ice down his pants.

The phone rang and he snapped it up and pressed the on button. “Hello?”

“She's up for dinner. But this has to be authentic looking. If she suspects it's a setup, she'll never go for it.”

“I'll see you there around seven-thirty then?”

“That's fine.” Her voice dropped an octave lower. “Oh, and by the way, I was looking forward to our lesson tonight. Just so you know, I won't be wearing any underwear.” And with that she hung up the phone.

Trent flopped back on the bed and let out a frustrated groan. Another month of this temptation and he'd go insane.

 

J
OSIE HAD NEVER FELT
so scandalous in her life. Sure, she'd done some pretty eye-popping things in the past month with Trent, but that was all in the name of his sensual development.

None of it felt nearly as scandalous as walking down a San Francisco street with no underwear on, the breeze whipping at her bare lower half. She'd chosen a short, body-hugging black dress for the occasion, the sort of outfit she decided a woman who didn't wear underwear would choose. And of course, that outfit would not be complete without a pair of black heels, the kind with straps that wound up around the ankles.

Okay, so having her mother in tow sort of dampened her bad-girl mood. But as they made their way to the restaurant, Josie entertained herself with thoughts of what she would do with Trent once she finally got him
to admit his feelings for her. Oh, the scandalous things they would do…

Thanks to Erika, Josie understood Trent more than she ever had before. Erika had a surprising talent for this sex coaching stuff. She'd told Josie to avoid having sex with Trent again until they'd resolved their conflicts and admitted their true feelings for each other. It was sound advice, and remarkably simple, if not exactly simple to execute.

For tonight, anyway, Josie was going to assume that foreplay—really intense foreplay—was still okay.

“Josephine, would you please stop walking so fast?”

“Sorry.” She slowed to match her mother's pace, annoyed with herself for being in such a hurry to see Trent.

“I'm surprised you can move so fast in those shoes. What are you doing dressed for a night on the town, anyway, when you're just entertaining your mother?”

Darn it, she shouldn't have been so obvious. “I need to make a trip to the cleaner's. This is about the only clean dress I have left.”

“Well, you look fabulous in it. You should choose more outfits that accent your figure like that.”

Leave it to her mother to compliment her on wearing the sort of dress that would keep most parents up late worrying. Josie used to wish she had a normal mother who baked cookies and drove her to Girl Scout meetings, but now she more or less accepted that Rafaela wasn't ever going to be normal.

“I had a meeting with Erika the other day regarding her future at the center, and I've decided that she should have more responsibility than she currently does.”

“Erika's a smart girl,” Rafaela said. “I've been trying to think of better ways to use her recently.”

“She's going to be our sex—er, sensuality—coach. We need to start advertising it.”

“A sensuality coach! That's a fabulous idea.”

“Erika's, not mine.”

“I'm sure you can handle the advertising,” Rafaela said, clearly finished with the subject.

Josie clenched her teeth to avoid making any comment. She had given up trying to get her mother more involved in running the center again, but she still found her lack of interest frustrating.

Even more frustrating was her lack of explanation for any of her recent odd behavior. She hadn't returned any money to the business account, hadn't shown the slightest worry about the shaky finances at the center, and now suddenly she claimed to be burnt out on a job she'd adored up until a few months ago?

Josie was beginning to suspect more and more that her mother had an ulterior motive. Rafaela was manipulating her somehow, but her reasons weren't clear. And Josie was so overwhelmed with the day-to-day details of running the center that she didn't have the mental or physical energy to figure out what was really going on with her mother.

She just had to hope that, eventually, everything would work out.

They found Trattoria Venezia and Josie tried to look nonchalant as they entered the small restaurant and immediately spotted Trent and his father sitting at one of the tables closest to the door.

Rafaela smiled and waved, and Josie let out a pent-up breath, relieved that her mother didn't seem to suspect any foul play at Trent's presence.

“Trent, dear, how nice to see you!”

“Hi, Rafaela. Back from Prague so soon?”

“Yes, I just couldn't stay away from San Francisco a moment longer.”

She turned her attention to Trent's father, a faint look of recognition in her expression. “Tony O'Reilly?”

“Rafaela Marcus, I haven't seen you since—jeez, how long has it been?”

Her mother frowned. “Not since you gave up the sporting goods business, right?”

“Must be.” Trent's father looked stunned and a little confused that his blind date had turned out to be not so blind, after all.

“We haven't ordered yet. Why don't you two join us?” Trent said, already standing and offering a chair to Josie's mother.

“Uh, that's okay with me. Mom?”

“If you're sure you don't mind.”

Trent's father looked even more confused now, and he was eyeing Trent with mild curiosity. “We'd be happy to have you,” he finally said, catching on to the plan that Trent must not have informed him about.

One good look at Trent sitting there in a crisp white shirt and khaki pants, and all those fantasies Josie'd been indulging in throughout the day came flooding back. Somehow, she had to get him out of here. Fast. Even if, according to Erika, she couldn't make love to Trent until he admitted his feelings, she could at least engage in a little extended foreplay.

All in the name of education, of course.

 

T
HEY MADE SMALL TALK
while looking over the menus, and Josie calculated exactly how long she needed to wait before she and Trent could slip away to the rest room. Or the car. Or the nearest hotel room.

After the waiter took their order, Rafaela smiled and
asked Trent a few questions about his store. She was watching Trent and Josie closely, too closely. Josie feared her mother suspected this was a setup, after all.

And if so, she'd never hear the end of it.

But then Rafaela surprised her with, “Why don't you two give us old folks some time alone to get reacquainted? We can have the waiter box up your dinners for carry-out.”

Trent and Josie exchanged a look. Trent's father, too, seemed a little taken aback by the suggestion.

“Uh,” Josie said, stunned. “That's fine with me. Trent?”

He looked to Rafaela. “You sure you want to be stuck having dinner alone with this old coot?”

Her mother smiled and patted Tony's hand. “It's been a long time. We have lots to catch up on.”

“I've gotta warn you, get him started talking about his boat and he'll keep you here until morning.”

Rafaela signaled the waiter. When he arrived, she explained the change of plans.

They sat awkwardly sipping their drinks while Josie wondered about the smug look on her mother's face. And then, thankfully, their dinners came and Trent and Josie excused themselves.

Outside the restaurant they stopped and looked at one another in disbelief.

“What was
that
all about?” Trent asked.

“My mother's up to something.”

“Do you think she suspects anything about us?”

“It's possible. Even if she doesn't, this might be her way of getting us together.” Josie felt herself blushing to admit, “She's always insisted we'd make a perfect couple.”