Midas Touch (9 page)

Sandra forced herself not to look away. “You gave me a lot to think about,” she admitted. “I’ve never found myself in a situation like last night. Control has always been important to me.” Seeing a gleam spark in Lona’s eyes, she quickly added, “In my work I mean. I never, we never should have …” She trailed off into an uneasy silence.

“I realized I misjudged you after you sent me away,” Lona responded.

Sandra felt a stab of mortification. She seemed to be a total failure at everything involving sex. She knew her face was glowing, and to add to her embarrassment, the damn machine was broadcasting her slightest agitation.

“It’s all right,” Lona said, taking Sandra’s hand. “I want you to know, for a few minutes last night you gave me a glimpse of something I’ve been fantasizing about for years.”

“What?” Sandra asked, stunned.

“When you wrapped my hair around your hands and rode my mouth I was able to imagine what it would be like to be totally dominated by you. The memory of last night will provide me more fantasies than any real person ever could.” She leaned forward and softly kissed Sandra’s lips.

The blaring monitor again betrayed Sandra. “I guess there’s

something wrong with the machine,” Sandra mumbled as they both glanced at it.

Lona gave her a wicked smile. “I’m sure there is.” She hesitated before adding, “I hope we can still be friends.” Sandra could only nod.

Lona turned to leave but stopped at the door. “If you ever change your mind, call me.” Without waiting for a reply, she winked and floated out of the room, just as the now exasperated-looking nurse returned.

A red-eyed and drawn-looking Margaret arrived soon after Lona’s departure. She came bearing a thermos of homemade chicken soup.

“Dr. Rayburn told me I could bring this over,” she said, pouring a small portion into a bowl. “I trimmed off the fat, like the doctor said. I knew they wouldn’t be feedin’ you proper,” she continued. She hovered by the bed until Sandra finished most of the bowl.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Margaret shook her head. “You nearly scared the life out of me,” she scolded and gathered up the soup bowl and thermos.

“I’m sorry,” Sandra apologized, patting her hand.

“You’ll not be scarin’ me like that again now, will you?”

“No. I’m going to be so careful, when I get out of here, I’ll live to be a hundred.”

“Good. Good.” Margaret blinked away tears. “For you gave me a fright for sure.”

Sandra could only stare. Margaret was genuinely worried about her. With a start, she realized there were people who worried about her. They were concerned about Sandra Tate the person, not Sandra Tate the successful businesswoman. In a blinding flash of insight, she realized she had walked around in a vacuum her whole life, holding herself apart. With Laura being the only possible exception, she never allowed herself to trust anyone’s friendship.

She even held a portion of herself from Laura. There was always a part of herself held in reserve.

0

“My heart,” she whispered in surprise. “I’ve never allowed anyone into my heart.”

“Your heart!” Poor Margaret was already racing to the door.

“I’ll find a nurse.”

“No. Wait. Come back. I was talking to myself. I’m fine.

Really.”

Margaret eyed her. “For sure?”

Sandra smiled and said. “Yes. For sure.”

Sandra felt something change inside of her—a subtle softening which made her smile bigger and made her want to make Margaret smile.

Sandra squeezed Margaret’s hand. “How could I leave when I have a beautiful woman like you waiting for me at home?”

Margaret blushed a deep crimson, but smiled in spite of herself.

“You tell Minnie she’d better watch her step. I’m a single woman, and I might decide to steal you away from her.” Margaret hissed a flustered but pleased admonishment. “Enough of your fancy talk. I’ve work to do. Will you be home tomorrow?”

“Only if you promise to be there to fluff my pillow,” Sandra said with a lewd smile.

Margaret shook her finger at her and huffed. “Had the likes of Margaret O’Shea ever fluffed your pillows, lass, you would’ve been home much sooner each evenin’.” With a defiant toss of her head, Margaret made a stately exit.

Seconds later, Ida Rayburn swept in with Sandra’s chart.

So much for rest,
Sandra thought wearily.

“Was that Margaret I saw leaving?” Ida asked.

“Yes. She brought me a thermos of homemade chicken soup.”

Ida nodded and chuckled. “She called me earlier and made it clear she didn’t trust your health to our culinary endeavors. We reached a compromise. I agreed she could bring you food. She promised she would make you eat healthier in the future.”

Sandra groaned. “Ida, you have no idea what you have done to me. Margaret makes you look like a cream puff.”

Ida gave a gruff grunt. “Good. Somebody needs to make you listen. Since you aren’t doing a very good job of taking care of yourself.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. Let’s see how you’re doing.” Ida flipped open Sandra’s chart and began to scan the data.

Sandra wiped her sweaty palms on the sheet as she waited.

“First and foremost, your heart is healthy.”

Sandra expelled a sigh of relief.

Ida glanced at her. “It won’t be if you don’t start taking better care of yourself. A nurse will be in shortly to remove the monitoring equipment, so you can get a good night’s rest.” She glanced back down at the chart and continued. “Your blood pressure has stabilized, but it’s still higher than I would like and you are anemic.”

Sandra leaned her head back against the pillows. As long as there was no damage to her heart, she could handle the rest. She would do whatever Ida suggested.

“Now are you ready for the bad news?”

Sandra felt her gut clench. The monitor announced her agitation.

Ida flipped the chart closed and reached over to turn the monitor off. “Don’t get upset. You’ve got several decades left yet.

The bad news is you’ve got to make some changes.”

“Okay,” Sandra conceded.

“I’m going to release you in the morning. I’ll give you a prescription for what amounts to a kick-ass multi-vitamin. Take it for thirty days. I want you to start a daily exercise routine of walking. After you return from your three month hiatus, cut your working hours to no more than fifty hours a week.”

Sandra nodded. She would have to think about the fifty-hour work week, but that could wait until later.

Ida frowned. “I thought I’d get more of an argument from you. I guess this little episode gave you a scare.”

“More than you can imagine,” Sandra admitted.

“Good. Sometimes a bit of a scare can be a healthy thing.

Now, don’t forget to take the vitamins,” Ida said as
she turned to leave.

“I will,” Sandra promised.

Ida laughed as she headed out the door. “I know you will.”

She turned just before the door closed and said, “I gave the prescription to Margaret.” She walked away before Sandra could respond.

Sandra smiled as she heard Ida’s chuckles drifting down the hallway.

After the nurse removed the heart monitor, Sandra fell asleep.

She opened her eyes to find Carol sitting by her bedside.

Anger surged through her as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Where’s your lawyer?”

Carol was nervously twisting the gold chain that served as a handle on her purse. “I apologize for showing up at your office. I only did it because I was so angry with you.”

“Angry with me!’ Sandra said amazed. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

“Oh, Sandra.”

Sandra started to say more, but the tears streaming down Carol’s cheeks startled her into silence. In their eight years together, Sandra had rarely seen Carol cry.

“I only slept with Ingrid to get even with you. I resented you never having time for me. I just wanted to get your attention.”

Sandra sighed. “You certainly achieved your goal.”

Carol leapt from the chair and threw herself into Sandra’s arms.

“Please. You have to forgive me.” She clung to Sandra and sobbed harder.

Sandra sat stiffly, surprised by Carol’s outburst. She slowly became aware of the tantalizing smell of Carol’s perfume. Carol’s hands clutched at her back, pulling her closer crushing her breasts again Sandra. Her tears were warm on Sandra’s neck. Sandra’s arms encircled Carol and held her tighter.

“I promise. I’ll be so much better. You’ll see,” Carol said as

her lips brushed Sandra’s neck.

Everything was happening so fast. Her growing feelings of desire took Sandra by surprise. She was grateful the heart monitor was no longer on her; otherwise, it would have been transmitting her desire to everyone within hearing distance. The feelings she had felt for Carol early in their relationship were resurfacing.

“Sandra, I’m so happy. Everything will be just as it was before this horrible thing happened. You can call the bank and tell them there’s been a mistake.”

Sandra felt as though someone had poured ice water over her.Carol rushed on. “I’ll buy some fabulous new clothes and after you’re released we can go away somewhere. Just the two of us. Maybe Hawaii? No. That’s too cliche. Hong Kong. Yes. I’ve always wanted to visit the Orient.”

Sandra gently untangled Carol’s arms from around her.

“What’s wrong?” Carol asked. “Don’t you want to go to Hong Kong?”

Sandra stared at Carol, really seeing her for perhaps the first time. Carol would never change. In many ways, she was a child.

Sandra tried to summon the disgust and hatred she had felt when she discovered Carol with Ingrid, but it was gone. There was nothing left but sadness and an odd sense of freedom.

Her sadness was for the things Carol would never experience—the sense of satisfaction in creating something, or in doing a job well. The empowerment achieved in knowing you could survive on your own, if you had to, or the sheer joy of loving someone for no other reason than love. Looking at Carol’s tear-streaked face, Sandra realized she had never known true love herself. She had fallen in love with the idea of love when she met Carol. She never felt the kind of love you read about in romance novels or see in those wonderful old black and white movies.

I will
, she promised herself.
I will find a woman to love. Someone
who will love me for who I am, not what I own. And if I don’t, I’ll
never settle for less again.

She looked at Carol and made her decision. It was impossible

for her to hate Carol. Perhaps she should, and maybe she was about to make a mistake, but it was her mistake to make.

“I’ll call the bank tomorrow,” Sandra said, brushing Carol’s hair away from her eyes.

Carol grabbed her and hugged her again. “I knew you would come to your senses.”

Sandra extracted herself from Carol’s embrace.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll call the bank and make arrangements to have a monthly allowance deposited to your account. But you can’t move back.”

Carol began to cry again. “But, I promised to change.”

“Listen to me. The relationship is over. I have to move on with my life.”

Carol stopped crying. A frown creased her forehead. “Is there someone else?”

“No. I’ve reached a point in my life where I need more.”

Seeing Carol’s confusion, she tried to explain her feelings. “I want the white picket fence.”

“You want to get married?” Carol asked, clearly dumbfounded.

Sandra shook her head and smiled. She would never be able to explain her desires to Carol. “I need to be on my own,” she said instead.

“But you’ll still give me my money?”

Sandra could see Carol was holding her breath.

“Yes. I’ll set up a monthly allotment. I’ll call Lynda Hopkins and we’ll work out an agreement.”

Carol smiled and began drying her tears. “Well, don’t forget.

Since you’re throwing me out of the penthouse, I’ll need enough money to buy a new one and…”

“Carol, don’t push your luck.”

A look of anger flashed across Carol’s face, but for once prudence apparently stopped her tongue.

Long after Carol left, Sandra stared at the ceiling wondering where her new life would lead.

Sandra breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped through the hospital doors into the warm afternoon sun. Scheduled for release that morning, one bureaucratic delay after another dragged the process out.

“Damn,” she groaned when she reached into her purse for her keys. Her car was still in the company parking lot. She considered calling Margaret, but anticipated the lecture that would accompany the trip. She called Allison instead.

While waiting for Allison, she made use of a pay phone in the lobby to make the necessary calls to arrange Carol’s monthly allotment. She felt good about the decision to set up the allotment.

It was the right thing to do.

With the arrangements made, she went outside and found a quiet corner in the sun to wait.

By the time Allison arrived, rush hour traffic was in full swing.

Sandra tried to start a conversation, but Allison seemed preoccupied.

They fell silent as the backlog of traffic inched along.

Sandra waited. Allison would talk about whatever was bothering her when she was ready. In the meantime, Sandra filled the silence by asking about Allison’s son and mother.

“Brian spends every spare moment of his time surfing the Internet. If time is any indication, he must know everyone online.

His grades dropped slightly at the beginning of the school year.

I threatened to limit his computer time and they came back up,”

Allison said.

Sandra smiled to herself. Allison would never take away anything Brian enjoyed doing. The multiple sclerosis was growing steadily worse. He could no longer do many things by himself.