Magnetic, page 5
Jenny swallowed the last of her wine and refilled her glass. “You know…Ronnie might laugh at this, too, and Layne will be off the hook.”
“I don’t know, Jen. She seems to enjoy Stacy. She’s affectionate with her, touches her a lot. Do you remember the time we spent a long weekend in Pensacola, and she brought that girl…what was her name?” Molly snapped her fingers as she thought. “Help me.”
“Jane.”
“No, that wasn’t it.”
Jenny stretched her legs out with a sigh. “It’s generic. They’re all Janes, baby.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Fine, Jane. After the first day, Ronnie acted like she was annoyed that Jane was there. She didn’t hold her hand, barely looked at her. She behaves the same way when she spends more than a few days with any particular woman, but she’s not that way with Stacy.”
Jenny took a sip of her wine. “Yeah, this is awkward and has to be torture for Layne.”
“I don’t know how to act. I feel so rude because I’m nervous about drawing Stacy into our conversations. She must think we’re the rudest people on the planet because we’ve barely spoken to her.”
“She doesn’t talk much, either. She’s probably in shock, too,” Jenny said with a smile. “I imagine she wanted to freak when she saw Layne, but she played it cool.”
“Stacy stares at her a lot. Did you notice at lunch earlier how Stacy kept glancing Layne’s way? And in the van, she kept staring past us at Layne.”
“I noticed,” Jenny nodded, “but, Mol, we can’t intervene. The three of them have to work this out in their own way. Don’t get any ideas about talking to Ronnie. Let’s just be supportive of Layne.”
Molly tugged on one of Jenny’s toes. “What do you suppose she’s doing over there right now?”
“Plotting her escape. She’s probably on her cell phone begging David to call her back to the office.”
*******
“Just checking in,” Layne said when David answered his extension.
“Why?”
“I wanted you to know I had cell service here in case you needed anything.”
“That’s kind of you, but I don’t. I sent out an email to everyone this morning stating that you are not to be contacted for any reason. They are to consult with me if whatever arises can’t be handled. Where are you, by the way?”
Layne sighed. “A ranch in Crawfordville, Florida. I’ve only been here a few hours, and I’m ready to pull my hair out. Do you know what poison ivy looks like?”
“It makes a terrible rash, that’s all I know.”
“No, the plant. If I find any, I’m going to launch myself into it headlong, so I’ll have an excuse to leave.”
David laughed softly. “That can be handled with cream, I think. Perhaps you should consider a woodchipper.”
“David, I’m miserable, let me come back.”
“Why don’t you look at this from a different perspective? You have the opportunity to relax and have a good time, so do it. Ride a horse, take a stroll.”
“If I were crazy enough to get on a horse, I’d ride it home, and if I stroll, it will be out to the main highway where I will hitchhike back to New Orleans. I’m that desperate!”
“If you show up here on horseback, I’ll lock you out of the building and consider having you committed.”
“This place is the same thing. I’m a few steps shy of cross-stitching my name on a pillowcase. The only difference is I can wear my own clothes and keep my shoelaces.”
“Then get dressed and go outside. I have to go now. I’ll see you in a few weeks and not one day sooner.”
Layne growled and tossed her phone onto the bed when the call ended.
Chapter 7
“Isn’t this marvelous?” Molly looked up at the twinkling stars above. “Dinner under a night sky.”
The evening was cool, and dinner was served outside. Servers moved between the tables, taking dinner and drink orders. When one approached their table, Layne was the first to order. “I’d like my own personal pitcher of margaritas. Don’t bring me a glass. Just a really long straw.”
Jenny smiled up at the server. “That sounds great, but I’d like a glass. You might as well bring a couple of pitchers because it doesn’t sound like she’s going to share with any of us.”
“Layne, why don’t you and I go shopping in Apalachicola tomorrow?” Ronnie said. “Stacy wants to do some sketching, and I thought you and I could pick up a few souvenirs, then maybe sun on St. George.” Ronnie looked at Molly and Jenny. “Y’all are welcome to join us.”
“That sounds fun,” Molly said brightly. “Jen, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah, shopping. Fun, fun, fun,” Jenny said as she perused the dinner menu.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Layne, what do you think?”
“That sounds fine,” Layne said, relieved that she’d have something to do to make the time pass quicker. That Stacy wouldn’t be joining them made the idea all the more appealing.
“Great, and maybe that cute cowgirl will drive us.” Ronnie winked at Layne and looked around. “I’m sure we’ll run into Stick at the dance, and, Layne, you can tell her we want to go first thing in the morning.”
“I’m not going to the dance tonight.” Layne rubbed her brow. “I have a headache that I hope to numb with the margaritas, then I’m going to pass out.”
“Do you need some Tylenol?” Molly looked concerned. “I have some back at the cabin.”
Layne smiled at her. “No, I’ll be fine, but thank you.”
Molly looked at Stacy. “What’re you going to sketch tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.” Stacy set her menu aside. “I’ll walk around until I see something that catches my eye.”
Jenny draped an arm over Molly’s shoulders. “So you paint and draw?”
Stacy nodded. “I prefer to paint, but that’s too much to pack around.”
“Do you sell any of your paintings?” Molly asked.
“No, it’s mainly just a hobby.”
Molly propped her chin in her hand. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I—”
“Ladies, two pitchers of margaritas,” the server said with a smile as she set one directly in front of Layne. “I brought you a glass just in case you decided to share with your friends.” She set it next to Layne’s pitcher along with a straw. “Have you decided on what you’d like to have for dinner?”
Layne watched Stacy out of the corner of her eye as everyone ordered. She laid a hand on the table, and Layne was reminded of how talented her hands could be. She blinked as she recalled how those fingers had brought her to dizzying heights. How they’d soothed and stroked her when she could take no more and felt herself giving into sleep. She remembered the night vividly, but as she regarded Stacy, it seemed like a dream. She didn’t know anything at all about the woman sitting across the table from her, but she did know what she sounded like in the throes of ecstasy, what her kisses tasted and felt like.
“Layne?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to eat or just drink?” Jenny said with a laugh.
“Oh, I’ll have the margarita chicken, may as well keep with the theme,” Layne said, smiling up at the server.
“There’s Stick,” Ronnie said when she approached the table. “We were just talking about you. Why don’t you join us?” Ronnie nodded at the empty chair next to Layne.
“Oh, I see you’ve begun with the mayhem margaritas,” Stick said as she sat. “They’re very potent.”
Layne filled her glass and inserted the straw. She sucked hard, hoping it would go straight to her head so she could sleep soundly and soon.
Ronnie leaned up on the table. “We’d like to go shopping in Apalachicola tomorrow, then go to St. George.”
“Well, you may want to go light on the margaritas because you’ll have to be here at the main house at eight in the morning.” Stick grinned at Layne. “Be sure to remember your sunscreen. I’ll have you out all day.”
“Tell us about Apalachicola,” Molly said. “What’s there to do?”
“The strip is small. We park on one end and you’ll be able to walk to all the shops and restaurants. It’s a very pretty little town. I grew up there.”
“So you can tell us all the good places to go for souvenirs.” Molly nudged Jenny. “We should bring the girls in your office something.”
“I’ll take you to my favorite place. There’s not much of the kitschy stuff, but you can find some really unique items there. The folks are real friendly, and if you’re lucky, you may find one of their cats napping on a display case or shelf.” Stick waved off a glass when Jenny offered. “I can’t drink the margaritas and expect to function tomorrow.” She looked at Layne and smiled. “I want to be alert so I can show you a good time.”
Stacy watched Stick and noticed how she’d turned sideways in her chair toward Layne, making it clear she was there for more than her work. Layne would glance at Stick occasionally but faced the table, steadily nursing her drink. The night they’d met, Layne had been open and maintained steady eye contact, and when Stacy made innuendos, she could see by Layne’s body language and facial expressions that she was well aware of where Stacy was leading her and was eager to follow.
“How’s that margarita treating you?” Stacy asked with a nod toward Layne’s glass that was almost empty.
“Very well, thank you,” Layne said with a faint smile.
“And your headache?”
Layne glanced at Stacy. “Almost gone.”
“Maybe you’ll feel like dancing now,” Stick said hopefully.
Layne shook her head. “Not tonight.”
“Layne travels a lot with work.” Ronnie jumped into the conversation when Stick looked disappointed. “She has to mingle and entertain clients, so I think she’s ready to let her hair down and relax.” Ronnie tipped her glass toward Layne. “God knows you need it.”
Stick picked up the pitcher and refilled Layne’s glass. “What is it that you do?”
“We restructure customer service and human resources departments for companies that receive less-than-stellar customer satisfaction ratings.” Layne glanced at Stacy nervously for a second. “When corporations begin to grow, they’re inundated with business they struggle to maintain, and they tend to forget that they wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for the people that buy their product. Too much emphasis is put on moving the products, and they let service slip after the initial sale. We evaluate their operations and their staff, then we rewrite policies and help them to move the right people into different positions where their strengths can be better utilized.”
“Oh, I bet that doesn’t always make you popular,” Stick said with a smile.
“Not always, no.”
Ronnie smacked her hand on the table. “I almost forgot, Layne. Alana Mayeaux is Stacy’s cousin.”
Layne visibly stiffened and glanced at Jenny, who looked away with a smirk. “Ronnie…I already—”
“Are those eyes?” Jenny practically shouted and pointed to the woods. “Are those eyes looking at me? Is that a fucking bear?”
Stick looked over her shoulder and laughed. “That’s a raccoon in a tree. They get kinda brazen when they smell food.”
Jenny looked at Layne wide-eyed and shook her head, silently telegraphing a warning. “I was scared to death there for a moment.”
“You act like you’ve never been outside.” Ronnie pushed Jenny’s glass closer to her. “Drink and chill out.”
“It could’ve been a bear.” Jenny made a face and looked around at the other tables where people stared at her like she was insane.
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Layne, you were saying?”
“I…was going to say that—”
“What’re the words to Blue Moon?” Jenny looked up at the sky. “The moon looks blue tonight. I wanna sing.”
“Layne was talking.” Ronnie looked annoyed. “Mol, what is wrong with your spouse?”
Molly shrugged. “This is normal.”
“Come on, sing it with me.” Jenny started to clap. “Blue, blue something borrowed something…shit.”
“So you know Alana,” Stacy said and smiled at Layne.
“Uh…yes. We’ve worked together for years.”
“I’m curious about your name, Stick,” Jenny said, smiling at her.
“My grandmother used to call me stick bug when I was a kid. I was so lanky, and no matter how much I ate, I couldn’t gain a pound. It used to embarrass my mother because no one believed she was feeding me.” Stick grinned. “Eventually, it just shortened to Stick, which I prefer over Agatha. I adored my grandmother, but not her name.”
“My grandmother called me bug,” Molly intoned with a grin, “because she said I bugged the shit out of her. She lived with us for a while, and I was always getting into her things.” Molly shrugged. “I like to rearrange.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Jenny looked at Layne, who also raised her glass.
Molly raised a brow. “I’m not that bad.”
“You’ve rearranged my sunroom six times.” Layne wagged a finger at Molly. “And I think you were the one that hung that print in the living room, though you blamed it on Jenny.”
Jenny shrugged. “You know it wasn’t me. I didn’t even notice you had a print in there.”
“That’s a shame, Ms. Observant,” Layne said with a laugh. “It was yours, the one I gave you for your birthday last year.”
Jenny’s jaw dropped as she turned to Molly. “My Midnight on the Bayou?”
“It’s temporary,” Molly said with both hands up. “Layne needed something above the mantel.”
“I can’t wait to see your new place, Layne,” Ronnie said, smiling at Molly and Jenny, who were bickering quietly among themselves. “Are you happy with it?”
Layne nodded and felt light-headed. “It’s bigger than the apartment, and there’s a back deck. We grilled burgers and sat out on it the other night.”
“You were invited but otherwise engaged,” Jenny said, “so no bitching.”
“I remember.” Ronnie grazed the backs of her fingertips across Stacy’s neck. “But it was short notice, and I’d already made plans to stay in.” She gave Stacy a suggestive smile and looked back at Jenny. “We were doing some rearranging of furniture ourselves.”
Molly cleared her throat. “I’ll bet.”
Layne felt a heat envelop her as she remembered how she and Stacy had “rearranged” the hotel room. Stacy had used everything with a surface before they managed to make it to the bed. Layne had worried that the coffee table would give way under her weight in the sitting area.
A scant niggling sensation formed in the pit of her stomach, and she realized it to be the stirrings of jealousy. She’d been so caught up in worrying about how Ronnie would feel if she knew about her and Stacy that Layne had not taken the time to entertain her own feelings. She glanced at Stacy, who met her eye for a fleeting second, knowing that Ronnie was enjoying now what she’d gotten a taste of.
“It’s a pretty night,” Layne said while the music coming from the dance faded as they drew closer to her cabin. “Thank you for walking with me, though I’m sure you’d rather be on the dance floor.”
“I can dance any night, but I don’t often get the opportunity of such pleasurable company.” Stick reached out to steady Layne as she stumbled when her sandal caught a root. Her fingers grazed the skin of Layne’s arm as she reached down to take her hand. “Are the margaritas doing a number on you?”
“Yes, I see a dozen cabins where I know there’s only one. If you’ll get me to the stairs on the right one, I’ll be grateful.”
Stick chuckled. “Take my advice, drink plenty of water before you turn in.”
“Does that work for you?”
“That, a light breakfast of toast the next morning, then a Red Bull.” Stick led Layne up onto the porch of her cabin. “I’ll have a cold one in the van for you tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you and thanks again for the escort. I’m not at ease with the woodland critters. Pickle-brained or not, I would totally lose my mind if I encountered one.”
“Then I’ll make it a point to be with you as often as I can.” Stick leaned in and kissed Layne on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Layne stood in the doorway of her cabin for a moment and watched Stick disappear into the darkness. She was sweet, good-looking, and definitely interested, and unfortunately, Layne was not.
Chapter 8
Jenny banged loudly on Layne’s cabin door for the third time, wondering if Layne had already risen and trekked to the mess hall. She was about to leave when the door opened a crack, and one bloodshot eyeball stared out at her. “You’re not going,” Jenny said as she put a hand on her hip. “Layne, I was looking forward to having someone commiserate in my misery while Molly and Ronnie drag me through shops of junk.”
“I think the margaritas were made with gasoline,” Layne whispered and opened the door wider as she slowly made her way back to the bed with one hand stretched out in front of her and the other on her stomach. “I’ve never puked so much in my life. This morning before dawn, I think my ribcage flew out and it was on fire.”
“You never drink like that. You should’ve known this would happen.”
Layne sank onto the bed. “Lower your voice, please.”
Jenny went into the bathroom and filled a glass with water. She dug around in Layne’s toiletry bag until she found a bottle of pain relievers. “You need to take a couple of these and empty this glass.”
“Again with the shouting,” Layne rasped and clutched her forehead.
“I think you’d feel better if we can get some food into you. I’ll run over to the mess hall and get you some toast. You wanna chance some bacon, too?”
Layne sat up straight, her face ashen, before she bolted to the bathroom. Jenny grimaced when she heard the retching. “That would be a no on the bacon,” she said as she set the water and bottle of pills on the bedside table.
