Chapter Six
T elfer jerked awake and sat up. His hand, flung out for balance, hit a warm, round mass, and he froze.
Then he carefully removed his palm from Laodice’s spectacular ass—thankfully covered by bedclothes, but still a generous mound under the covers.
“—and shine, lovers!” Sarah’s voice was saying, far too loudly. The glow around the room brightened. This time, he could hear electronic bird chirping in the background.
On the first night, he and Laodice had stayed on their own sides of the enormous bed. Last night, they seemed to have migrated towards the middle. Telfer was painfully aware of the unwelcome pressure in his groin.
Morning erections were a normal physiological response, he told himself. There was no need for him to feel awkward or embarrassed. Laodice might be impractical in some ways, but even if she noticed, she surely wouldn’t hold an inadvertent bodily function against him.
Especially since she hadn’t even moved yet. She was huddled under the covers, her back towards him, her face buried, the masses of dark chestnut hair spread over the pillows the only identifiable feature.
“—see you downstairs soon!” Sarah finished, and the room went momentarily silent.
Then the bird chirping was back.
“Fuck me, someone shoot those birds,” Laodice moaned. She rolled over and flung the covers back so they lay across her thighs. She was still lying down, her eyes firmly shut. It seemed as if she proposed to get up in stages.
Telfer stopped breathing. Her skin was rosy and sleep-flushed, strands of that long, dark hair falling over her face. She was wearing her yoga pants and T-shirt, perfectly decent and covered up, but the soft cotton did nothing to conceal the fall of her heavy breasts or rounded stomach.
She looked eminently, deliciously touchable .
“I get first shower,” Telfer said, and hurtled from the bed.
There was startled motion behind him, but he thought he’d moved fast enough that she might not have noticed the reason for his flight. He locked the bathroom door behind him and exhaled. Okay. He could hope the whole…situation would go away, or he could take it in hand, so to speak, and go into the day with desires satisfied, all the less likely to present him with inconvenient lust at an awkward moment.
When you thought about it that way, masturbating in the room next to your barely awake co-worker made perfect sense.
He started the shower, peeled out of his clothes, and stepped into the welcome rush of warm water. As he wrapped his hand around his erection and closed his eyes, Telfer fixed his mind firmly on a standard fantasy in his repertoire.
It was more or less a replay of an encounter from a year or two ago. His partner for the evening had been traveling on business, and he’d gone to her hotel room with the usual understanding that this would be a one time affair. She’d been stunningly beautiful, with long limbs and a wicked smile, smart and funny and a little sarcastic in a way that had made their bar room flirtation more interesting than the customary precursor to sex.
But the sex had been fantastic.
She’d nipped at his throat, mocking little love bites, as she’d slid her hand down his body and cupped his cock, and he’d thrust up into that grip, already slick from their foreplay.
Her long hair had brushed against his chest, then his belly, then his thighs, as she moved lower. In the fantasy, she teased the tip of his cock with her tongue, then slowly engulfed him, her eyes rolling up to watch his response.
She had Laodice’s face, Laodice’s eyes, Laodice’s long dark hair pooling around his legs.
Laodice’s mouth, wrapped around his aching cock.
Telfer thrust helplessly into his fist, two, three times, and came so hard that he nearly fell. He braced himself with his other hand against the shower wall and panted for breath while the water sluiced over his belly and thighs, washing the evidence away.
Hm.
This was going to be a problem.
When he emerged, Laodice didn’t look as if she suspected what he’d been up to. She’d done something elaborate with her hair, adding a jeweled clip that caught the light. Telfer looked away before he could do something stupid like consider how the sparkle compared to the excited gleam in her eyes.
“I’ve decided that it’s a new day, and I’m going to be positive,” she told him. “Sarah was probably nervous yesterday and trying too hard to do everything right. The flower arranging class was great, so we know that Halcyon can definitely offer an experience I can write about.”
Telfer opened his mouth to point out that the flower arranging class had been run by an outside vendor, and then closed it again. Laodice would certainly have considered that. If he verbalized the observation, it would imply he thought she was incompetent or lacked insight neither of which were true. “I think that’s a sensible approach.”
Laodice beamed at him.
Telfer basked in the warmth. Then Sarah’s voice broke in again. Objectively, the woman had a nice voice. Subjectively, hearing it was beginning to feel like sandpaper scraping along his nerve endings.
“Hurry up, slow-pokes!”
“We aren’t in kindergarten,” Laodice muttered. “Oh, are you good to take the burner again today?”
“No problem.” Telfer checked the time in an automatic gesture before he slid it into his pocket, and frowned. “It’s 5:43 a.m.”
Laodice scrunched her nose, then strode over to throw back the heavy red velvet drapes hanging over their window. The sky was pale blue, the sun a glimmer on the horizon.
“It’s possible that Sarah’s problem isn’t nerves,” she said grimly.
“Well,” Telfer said. “Let’s see.”
Unfortunately, the morning didn’t offer much to make them optimistic. Danielle brought in water for the table before it was requested, but the breakfast servings were still minuscule. There were tiny white bowls of hummus, pita bread cut into slim triangles, and chunks of fresh cucumber and tomato.
“Is this supposed to be a Turkish breakfast?” Carrick asked, in an undertone.
Telfer stared at the meager offerings. No cheese, no olives, no jam, and no soft, pillowy squares of pide bread. He could feel whole generations of Turkish matriarchs rolling in their graves. “I sincerely hope not. Kahvalti involves food .”
Carrick stifled a guffaw.
“Meditation,” Sarah announced, and they spent an interminable period being told about the guiding beings that existed to lift them to higher consciousness and also something implausible about soul bonding on the cellular level.
Telfer felt himself drifting off at one point, only to be wakened by Laodice’s tug on his hands. She tilted her head towards Sarah, and after a moment Telfer realized that the “guided meditation” had shifted to an unmistakable sales pitch for Sarah’s side hustle, which seemed to be a spiritual life coaching business, delivered remotely “so that you can access your true manifestation of Universal Light!”
Telfer scanned the room to see how the others were reacting. Alma and Erik were gazing at each other, apparently oblivious to the rest of the world. Hazel looked confused, and Jesse sullen. Yvette and Xavier were exchanging raised eyebrows. Patrick looked fed up, Samuel was clearly miles away, doing something else in his head, Britt was listening with apparent equanimity, and Carrick was asleep.
Even as Telfer noticed it, Carrick slumped and let out a sound that was a mix between a snort and a snore. He jerked awake, but the tension had broken as the rest of them laughed. He gave everyone a sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” he said.
“That’s all right, I think we were finishing,” Patrick said. He got up, and Telfer shuffled to his feet too.
Sarah clearly didn’t agree, but there wasn’t much she could do with her guests pointedly preparing for departure. She announced there would be a short break before the next class started.
“Great,” Alma said. “And could we get some snacks? Crudités or something?”
“No nuts,” Erik said. His voice was soft, and Telfer realized how little he’d heard the man speak.
“You got it!” Sarah accompanied them out to the lounge space that had become their de facto group gathering spot, animatedly discussing snack options with Erik. At one point she touched his arm, then tossed her hair back and laughed.
“Subtle,” Laodice observed. She’d followed Telfer out and was standing right next to him. Well, of course she was. That was their cover. But the scent of something sweet was rising from her hair. It was making him distracted. And hungry.
“Could I speak to you two for a moment?” Alma asked, and ushered them closer to the grand entrance, away from where the others were gathered.
“Sure!” Laodice said cheerfully, and lowered her voice. “Do you want us to run interference?”
Alma looked over her shoulder, where Erik was stoically eating crackers while Sarah talked at him. “Oh, that? No, don’t worry about it.”
“It doesn’t bother you, that she keeps flirting with Erik?”
“Only when it bothers him,” Alma said. “And it’s pretty unprofessional behavior. I don’t think much of her ethics. But no, I’m not jealous. I know Erik would never cheat on me. There was one bad moment in our relationship when I thought he was concealing things from me, and it almost drove me crazy. Have you heard of the advice columnist, Ask Cassandra?”
Laodice jumped. “Um, sure. It’s an advice column in Agora , right?”
Alma’s gaze sharpened. “Right, you both work at Olympus.”
“I’m in the Wardrobe,” Laodice said hastily. “We don’t talk to the writers much. And she’s anonymous anyway. I heard that she might even be a guy.”
“I suppose,” Alma said. “It doesn’t really matter. But Erik was being shady about how he was spending his time, going away on trips frequently, and he seemed to have much more money than a freelance copywriter should be earning. Instead of talking with him about it, I made the mistake of bringing this up to my sisters, and they were like, he’s married, he’s got a rich wife, you’re the side piece, do some snooping.”
“Uh, wow,” Laodice said. “That was supposed to be your first move? That’s some bad advice.”
“I seriously thought about it,” Alma confessed. “I mean, I didn’t think he could be such a monster. But if he was… I got as far as making an appointment with a private investigator. But the next day, Cassandra answered my email. She told me to talk to him first .”
“I remember this!” Laodice said, and looked at the lounge space again. Samuel and Patrick had joined Erik, and Sarah was heading through a staff door, talking on her headset again. “Is this the one where the guy was secretly a bestselling romance author?”
Telfer was impressed. Writing longform was something he’d occasionally considered himself, but the dedication and craft required were intimidating. He looked at Erik with new respect. “And the trips were for writing purposes?”
Alma smiled. “Yes. They were writing retreats, where he’d lock himself away somewhere isolated so he could meet his deadlines.”
“ Wow ,” Laodice said. “What’s his pen name?”
Alma’s smile deepened. “He has several, and that’s private.” She paused. “I have his permission to tell you this, of course. Erik’s working on being more open about what he does, but he’s not ready for any kind of general announcement.”
“Oh,” Telfer said. “Well, that’s kind of you. We’re honored by your trust.”
“What I’m saying is that all of this is off the record,” Alma said firmly.
The journalistic jargon made Telfer straighten. Laodice was looking carefully neutral.
“I know who you are, Laodice,” Alma said quietly. “I know you don’t work in the Wardrobe department at Olympus. You reported on my dad’s second wedding, nearly five years ago.”
Laodice looked chagrined, and then puzzled. “I don’t remember meeting you at all.”
“We never spoke. But I saw you talking to people at the reception, and I enjoyed the piece. I remembered who’d written it.”
Despite the disaster unfolding before him, Telfer couldn’t help but feel vindicated. “See?” he told Laodice. “You are memorable.”
“Not to Hazel or Xavier, and I actually interviewed them,” Laodice said. She was eying Alma with wary respect. “Um, thank you? And also, wow, your memory is amazing.”
“I assume you’re here on assignment,” Alma went on. “I’m letting you know that I know, because I don’t want Erik’s career in the piece. I don’t want you snooping around to find his pen names.”
“I was going to anonymize everyone,” Laodice said. “And we do have permission from the Halcyon owners to be here.”
“From Sarah?”
“Sarah doesn’t know,” Telfer put in. “She’s the hostess, not the business manager.”
“Ah. That was the one thing that didn’t make sense. I thought she’d be sucking up to you a lot more if she knew you were reporters.” She refocused. “I’m happy for you to keep doing your job. I don’t mind us being background characters in your story. And I won’t tell anyone else what’s going on, so long as you can guarantee that Erik’s job is not a story.”
“This feels like blackmail,” Laodice said, sounding more interested than offended.
Alma didn’t even try to deny it. “Well?”
Laodice glanced at Telfer, who shrugged. Her decision.
“You’ve got a deal,” Laodice said.
Alma’s shoulders relaxed. “I hoped you’d be reasonable.”
“Sure, but I want to be clear,” Laodice said firmly. “I’m agreeing because I wouldn’t be writing about Erik anyway. I wouldn’t try blackmailing journalists as a general rule. We tend to get talkative about it. This was a risky move.”
“I’d risk a lot to protect Erik,” Alma said fiercely. Her lips were drawn back from her teeth, her eyes bright and hard. The friendly, caring nurse was gone. Telfer felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.
Then Alma relaxed, serene and positive again. “But I’m glad I don’t have to. I like you two. Maybe we could all meet up for dinner or something when we’re back in the city?” She looked rueful. “My sister Laura is always pushing us to double date with her and her husband, but I’d honestly rather do it with you two.”
Laodice opened her mouth, probably to confess that their “relationship” was also a ruse, and Telfer broke in.
“Maybe after the story’s out,” he suggested. “And we can all trust each other a little more.”
Alma nodded, accepting that. She seemed focused on making sure that Erik’s secrets were safe, but there was a limit to how many lies you could expose to someone, and still hope for them to act normally around you. Their cover story was on shaky ground as it was. Frankly, he was surprised that Alma, perceptive as she was, hadn’t suspected that too.
***
Britt’s watch said it was nearly 10 a.m. by the time the next class was ready, and Laodice wondered how long Sarah had meant to lecture them about the benefits of signing up for her Enlightenment package. Did she really not know how the guests were responding to her? Samuel and Britt were too patient, and Hazel and Carrick too good-natured to object, but Laodice thought everyone else was annoyed with her to one degree or another.
It was a real pity she was their hostess, because once again, the class was fantastic. The guests had filed into the big gallery room, where a perky, dark-haired couple introduced themselves as Luala and Richie and promised to introduce them to the wide and wonderful world of wedding dances.
“Have you ever wanted to try the drama of a tango?” Richie asked. He and Luala moved into a close, angular grip, eye-fucking each other intently, until he spun Luala out.
“Perhaps you want to do a choreographed dance with your attendants,” Luala suggested, moving in time with Richie as they did a step-step-and-clap move Laodice had seen on social media all summer.
“Or maybe you want to be the center of attention for a swing spectacular!” Richie said, and Luala jumped into his arms, was easily spun around his body, and then flipped over his back. She sank into an effortless split and then popped back up again.
“But whatever you want to try, we’re here to help,” Luala concluded, and Carrick whooped and started the applause, his broad face alive with pleasure.
Luala and Richie grinned at each other, and then cheerfully bullied everyone into the middle of the room to do some basic warmup stretches, which led into simple dance moves so smoothly that it took a moment for Laodice to catch on that she was doing a box step. Hazel was a fantastic dancer, smooth and fluid, and Patrick was nearly as good, adding flashy spins and head bobs as he moved. Carrick flailed along with great enthusiasm, and the rest of them gamely followed with various levels of skill.
Telfer was doing the bare minimum, she thought, but that was all right. He kept looking at her and hesitating as she bounced and twirled, probably confused by the increasing pace and number of steps as the warm-up routine got more complex. Out of all of them, he was definitely the most stiff.
The Laodice of three days ago would have cheerfully attributed that to the stick up his ass. The Laodice of today was… Well, she didn’t like Telfer, precisely, but it was a little harder to dislike him. He was helping her out, on his vacation time no less, and he’d apologized for dismissing her request for basic facts. She could have interpreted his stepping in over the shots last night as high-handed Telfer-know-best stuff, but it hadn’t felt like that.
It had felt like he was on her side.
And that was an unexpectedly reassuring place for him to be.
She whirled, did another jump—she was not wearing the right bra for this—and grinned at him.
Wonder of wonders, he smiled back.
Something in her chest tightened, and a shivering warmth radiated from the spot, descending into her belly. Telfer was handsome, and she’d always known it, but she’d never wanted him before. Now he was in his shirtsleeves, collar loosened, and there was something in his eyes she didn’t recognize.
Or maybe, did recognize, and didn’t want to consider.
The warm-up routine came to a breathless halt before she could react, in a flurry of clapping and happy voices. Even Jesse seemed to be having a good time—he whirled Hazel into his arms and dipped her, and she came up laughing, her eyes shining with love.
“All right!” Richie said. “Great work! Let’s group up and we’ll practice the most common wedding dance. Anyone know what that is?”
“The waltz,” Laodice said, a split-second before Yvette could.
“That’s right! Now, just for fun, we’re going to mix you up so you’re with different partners! I’m giving you three seconds to get used to the idea, three, two, one, go, Luala, go!”
This, apparently, was the cue for Luala to cheerfully bully everyone into new couple configurations. The dancing teachers were as relentlessly perky as Sarah was, and Laodice wondered why they didn’t grate on her nearly as much.
It was the sincerity, she decided. Luala and Richie were genuinely enthusiastic about dance and its place in a wedding, and Sarah, for all her polish, wasn’t sincere at all. Her enthusiasm was surface deep, like shiny layers of lacquer over rotten wood.
She started with Xavier, who asked if they could maybe check out her car after lunch.
“Absolutely,” Laodice promised, and was rewarded with the sight of Xavier trying hard to please. It didn’t seem to come naturally to him, but she appreciated the effort as he rotated her in careful circles. She could see him mentally counting the beat, and while it wasn’t unpleasant, there was a definite improvement when he was swapped for Patrick.
“ One , two, three, one , two, three,” Luala chanted, as Patrick twirled Laodice under his arm. “Getting ahead of us, Patrick!”
Patrick’s teeth flashed white in his dark face. “Is that against the rules?”
“No, not as long as your partner can follow your lead! Looking good, Laodice!”
Laodice caught a glimpse of Samuel and Telfer dancing on the other side of the room, which looked considerably more awkward.
“They’re both trying to lead,” Patrick chortled. “Silly boys, these men of ours. Want to try a dip?”
“If you’re sure you can hold me,” Laodice said gamely, and Patrick bent her back in a gentle lean.
“Perfect!” he said, and then Carrick replaced him, his ruddy cheeks even brighter than usual.
“This is fun,” he declared, looking both delighted and surprised. He grinned at her. “It’s nice to know there’s maybe one thing I can do better than Telfer.”
“You’re doing great,” Laodice assured him.
Erik was next, careful and soft-voiced, with most of his attention where Alma was dancing with Telfer. “Isn’t she good?” he asked, and Laodice politely agreed. Actually, she thought Alma was losing the beat, but arguing with the hopelessly infatuated never went anywhere.
Honestly, it was nice to see a man so completely in love with his intended. She might find that much devotion a little off-putting herself, but she could see why Alma never worried that he’d cheat. Certainly, Erik would never decide that he wanted to blow off his girlfriend so he could watch a stupid basketball game with his buddies.
Reminded of Eli’s douchery, she was scowling when they switched partners again. The prospect of dancing with Jesse didn’t make her any happier, even though he was on his best behavior, the hand on her mid-back perfectly impersonal. She was relieved when he moved back to Hazel, and Telfer came to join her.
Relieved, and maybe a little bit glad.
She held her arms out to Telfer, resting one hand lightly on his shoulder and the other in his outstretched hand. His other arm came around her back, and she was suddenly very close to him, gazing up into dark eyes that looked as startled as she felt.
The attraction was obvious, electric, and undeniably mutual.
The music stopped before they could take their first steps, and they dropped the hold immediately, stepping away from each other and breaking eye contact.
“Okay!” Luala said. “Amazing work, everyone! For your first dance with your partner, we’re going to step it up a notch. The wedding dance can be many things, but for most people, those things include performance , because you’re in front of a crowd!”
“Although you may not even notice them,” Richie put in. “And of course, these people will be your nearest and dearest, so they’ll all be wishing you well. The most sympathetic audience of your life!”
Laodice wasn’t so sure. One of the first things she’d noted for her own eventual wedding was that she was going to control the hell out of the guest list. No second cousins her mother wanted to be there because otherwise they’d feel left out, no one from work who wasn’t also a personal friend, and definitely no estranged relations there for a last-ditch reconciliation effort. Her wedding was truly going to be for the people she loved, and who loved her best.
Laodice been planning her wedding since she was seven, bullying Xena into being her flower girl and begging Cassie to fill the celebrant’s role. The groom had always been played by Mr. Bones, the full-sized anatomy school skeleton her father had once brought home from a garage sale. Mr. Bones had flexible, skinny fingers that were easy to slide a plastic ring onto, and he looked dapper in a bow tie.
It was a shame Mr. Bones wasn’t available for the real-life position. True, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but he was much more reliable than half the men she’d dated in search of true love and a happily-ever-after.
Richie and Luala had kept talking while Laodice reminisced, and she came back to herself with a start. She must have missed something; the couples had shuffled into a loose circle, looking expectantly at herself and Telfer.
Luala motioned at them encouragingly, beckoning them into the center.
“Oh!” Laodice said, realizing what was happening. Well, all right, a solo waltz for a few bars wasn’t so bad, especially after they’d all seen each other be goofy and awkward anyway. Luala and Richie were good . They’d structured the class so that everyone had been relaxed, then pushed a little outside their comfort zone by dancing with others one-on-one. Now they were ready to trust their audience and perform under observation.
At least, she was ready. She took a few steps towards the center, and stopped. Telfer hadn’t followed.
“Come on, Telfer,” Luala cheered, and started a quick round of encouraging applause.
He came to her then, but the stance was wrong, his arms extended so that they were too far apart from each other. Laodice could feel his shoulder, rigid under her touch.
“Get a little closer,” Richie said, and Laodice took a step in, expecting Telfer to meet her there.
Instead, he dropped his arms. “Sorry,” he said, looking at a point somewhere over her shoulder. “I think I hurt my ankle in that last bit. I’m going to sit down for a second.”
It was a damning and obvious lie. Laodice felt the blood rush to her cheeks and twisted her hands in her skirt, fighting to control the humiliation surging through her.
Even the effervescent dance teachers hesitated, as they watched Telfer limp to the side of the room and lean against the wall, leaving Laodice alone in the circle of watching people. Then Richie stepped forward.
“Lucky me, I get to cut in,” he said lightly, and Luala started the music.
Laodice summoned her most blinding smile, and prepared to dance her ass off. How had she ever thought Telfer Terzi was hot?