Substitute for Love (9 page)

And there it was, she thought. You’re still looking, she acknowledged to herself. She could not envision making such a declaration with Clay. Maybe she wasn’t angry any longer, but their relationship was definitely over. If they weren’t moving toward a point when they gave each other their futures then what exactly were they doing? Playing house, as Tori had said?

Vows were exchanged and followed by a kiss. Holly tried to imagine herself as a bride, but she didn’t fit in this picture. She had to fit somewhere, she thought.

They followed the bride and groom to the reception hall when the rituals were concluded. The quiet contemplation during the ceremony had given her an insight she wanted to think more about, but a new band was striking up a lively swing number, making it hard to think.

Clay took her elbow for a moment and she had to consciously resist the urge to pull it out of his grasp.

“Holly, you are looking wonderful. You’ve lost weight.” Winnie Maltin was the dean’s wife, and she had always been friendly. The dean was on the other side of the hall, in a cluster of faculty.

“No, I’m just not wearing all my usual layers. It is a party, after all.” She felt gratified for having made an effort.

Winnie regarded Clay. “You look the picture of health, as always.”

Clay flashed his charming smile. “As do you.” After all the years, however, Holly could tell he was already finding the socializing tedious. It was superficial, he had so often complained, and the ability to talk comfortably with people at parties should have no bearing on how a person was evaluated.

“That necklace is beautiful,” Winnie continued, turning back to Holly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear it before. Certainly not the earrings.”

“They were my grandmother’s. Her name was Rose. She left them to my mother. I’ve had them since she died.”

“What delicate work. American Beauty roses, aren’t they? There’s a greenhouse at the rear of the house and they have some beautiful roses in there. George and I were looking at them earlier. You should stroll through it.”

Colleagues drew Clay away and Holly chatted with Winnie for a while. The dean stopped to say a few words, then went on his way. Winnie excused herself shortly thereafter, and Holly was abruptly alone and far from where Clay was putting his hands in his pockets and looking disapproving.

What a drip. The thought was unbidden and she knew then that it had to be over. She sipped her sparkling wine with a silent toast to her own future.

After a moment she became aware of a man next to her. She glanced up and he smiled congenially. “How do you know George?”

“I’m a friend of a Fullerton professor,” she answered. “And you?”

“Stan Barquette,” He held out his hand and Holly shook it, hoping her reluctance didn’t show. “I know George from way back. He’s a man to consult when you need to make a decision. After a talk with him, I decided to run for the Assembly in district thirty-three.”

“Whereabouts is that?”

He launched into a pat speech about his district, its concerns, the needs of his future constituents and how the current representative was headed the wrong way. “He’s a good man,” he concluded, “and I don’t take anything away from his intentions. But it’s time for different ideas.”

Holly merely nodded politely. Like Clay, she had few illusions about politics and politicians. In response to Stan’s polite question she said, “At the moment I’m considering if I’ll go into teaching as well.”

“Really? Well, we can certainly use all the teachers we can get. Do you have kids? Do you like working with them?”

“No, and I don’t know.”

“Teaching is a rewarding field, whatever level you decide to teach. Grade-school teachers are the most badly needed.”

Suspicious that his assumption was that as a woman she would be most interested in teaching young children, she replied, “I’ve read that. However, I’m not sure many grade schools have much use for a conceptual mathematician.”

It would have been comical if it hadn’t proven Aunt Zinnia right. Like something in a cartoon, curtains came down in his eyes and he took a nervous half-step away, feigning a need for one of the napkins on the nearby buffet. Men want decent women, she could hear Aunt Zinnia say, and they’ll never be convinced that a woman who is smarter than they are isn’t outsmarting them in other ways — ways that decent women wouldn’t consider.

To give the devil his due, Clay had never reacted that way to her brain. But — oh, shut up, Jo— he had successfully stopped her from furthering her academic success. Was it because he couldn’t handle the idea of having a relationship with someone who was smarter than he was, or at least appeared to be?

You don’t know how smart you are, she reminded herself. Mathematics could have gone light-years ahead of you while you ran actuarial data. You’ve never stretched yourself, just rested on what was easiest. Don’t go thinking that anyone will be eager to have you. Jo is not right about everything.

Stan had begun to realize he was having a conversation mostly with himself and he ambled away to pursue other networking opportunities.

“How do you know the bride and groom?”

The beautifully modulated voice in her ear startled her and she nearly spilled her wine. She turned to find that the voice matched the speaker, and she was momentarily tongue-tied, but the curvaceous blue-eyed blonde smiled as if she was used to giving people a moment to pull themselves together. “I’m … a friend of a Fullerton professor. How about you?”

“I’m here with a friend of a friend. Window dressing. I don’t mind.”

Puzzled, but not really caring, Holly asked, “Do you live in Ventura?”

She felt slightly dazzled by the smile she received. “No, I have the obligatory rat-infested apartment in Hollywood so I can write the folks back home in Clearfield, Iowa, that I live there.”

“I’m starting to think you look familiar.”

“I did a shampoo commercial and a beer billboard.” She laughed and then tossed her head so her long blonde hair drifted through the air like spun gold. “Does this look familiar?”

Holly had to swallow hard. “I don’t watch television so it must be the billboard. That must be a terribly hard business to break into.”

“It is. I’m Galina Gerrard, by the way.” She held out her hand.

“Holly Markham.” It was a good thing that was all she had to say because the touch of Galina’s fingertips sent surprising tremors up her arm. She told herself that she had never been impressed by looks over actions. How could she possibly be tongue-tied, just because Galina was gorgeous?

Galina didn’t let go, not right away. Her smile dimmed slightly, but there was new warmth in her eyes.

Holly finally took her hand back and said the first thing that came into her head. “People in Iowa name their daughters Galina?”

“No,” Galina said, her eyes sparkling. “Galina is a better name for an actress than Ruby Sue.”

She ought to have been in a panic. She ought to have done something to get herself to safety. She was falling, drowning, and all she could think was that she did not want to move.

“Oh shit,” the actress said suddenly. “Please say you’ll be around for a while. I have to go shmooze with the guy I came with. He’s winking at me.” She looked torn.

“Go take care of business,” Holly advised, not wanting her to go and desperately afraid of why.

“I’ll look for you in a little bit.”

She nodded. Had she just made an assignation? What was she doing?

Yet she knew exactly what she was doing. She was watching Galina walk away in her skin-tight blue silk dress and imagining… wondering…

She escaped to the greenhouse, leaving the wine and party noise. She needed to be clearheaded. But she didn’t want to solve for the simplest answer, or think about the variables that would help her explore the chaos she could feel swelling inside her. For a perilous moment she had envisioned herself in a wedding ceremony, and the groom wore a blue silk dress.

The greenhouse was quiet and dimly lit, heavy with the scent of roses and rich soil. She noticed a profusion of lily-of-the-valley set into a nearby alcove, and she thought of her mother. And wished, as she had not wished in a long time, that her mother hadn’t died, because she needed to talk to someone she trusted. How could she be so confused? She’d had female friends before, and never felt this way.

She went to her knees to inhale the delicate fragrance of the nearest bloom and tried to clear her mind. Could she forget this if she meditated? It had never worked for her the way it did for Clay. Her mind would wander and she always found herself worrying about incomplete chores.

It was several minutes before she realized she wasn’t alone in the long, plant-crowded room. On the other side of a wall of hanging plants she heard whispered voices. She thought about clearing her throat, then a low cry sent her crouching farther down. It was a woman who cried out and her eager moan pounded in Holly’s ears.

Was this what women sounded like? She had never made those sounds, never groaned in what sounded like pain but could only be pleasure. She could hear an echoing moan from the man, then it was drowned out by the woman’s fervent, whispered pleas.

The thrumming in her ears twined with the woman’s voice, and when the stifled, urgent groans subsided she played it all again in her head. She had never made those sounds, never heard them before, but now it was so easy to hear Tori with Murphy, with Geena. To consider, to wonder, what it would feel like to have no choice but to make those noises, to be so aroused and fulfilled that there was no choice but to moan with proof of it.

When she surfaced from her reverie she was alone, feeling ill and dizzy. It would be cold outside. That would help.

She stood in the drizzle for longer than even her simple hairstyle could take, but she couldn’t make herself go back inside.

“What the heck are you doing out here?”

Galina — Ruby Sue, Holly thought. Anyone named Ruby Sue could not be dangerous. But she was, and so beautiful, so vivacious. Her silk dress was getting wet.

“Trying not to be seen.”

“Oh. Shall I leave?”

Holly shook her head and felt weak. “There was — I was in the greenhouse and then this man and woman came in and before I could tell them they weren’t alone they were —”

“Really?” Ruby’s eyes seemed to have a light of their own. “Let’s go peek.”

“They’re gone,” Holly admitted. She wanted two things at once — to go and to stay.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. Some woman in a black dress, that’s as much as I saw or wanted to see.”

“Let’s go make sure. Folks in Clearfield told me that Hollywood parties were just orgies, and I’ve never yet seen anything the least bit juicy. It’s been kind of disappointing.” Galina seized Holly’s hand and pulled her toward the greenhouse door.

Holly went with her. She felt weak, desperate, wondering how to solve her equation. How do women feel? How would she feel? She could hardly hear Galina’s rapid-fire questions over the thrumming in her ears.

“Here? Or over there?”

She pointed.

“Oh, I see.” Ruby disappeared around the wall of hanging plants. “From here you can’t see either door. During the day the windows would give you away, but at night, in the dark…”

Holly turned the corner into the little alcove created by the plants and benches. There was also a small armchair and an unlit reading lamp. She told herself to make a joke and to get the hell out of there. She was too close to Galina, who had perched on the arm of the chair.

“Where were they? Over here?” Galina pointed to the dimmest corner.

Holly nodded. “I didn’t see much. I was right around there, but on my knees to smell the lily-of-the-valley.”

“This is kind of professional curiosity.” Galina looked at her through long, silky lashes. “I mean, let’s face it. This sort of thing doesn’t happen all that often. At least not in my circle of acquaintances. Certainly never in Clearfield. I want to be an actress, and sex in semi-public places happens all the time on television and in movies. Just seeing someplace where it did, and putting myself into that woman’s position — was it just a quickie for some couple who likes to take some chances? Perhaps it was old lovers who felt the old passion when they ran into each other. Or did they meet tonight and feel the urge to do something dangerous?”

“I don’t know.” Questions like this had never occurred to her, not until tonight.

Galina rose gracefully from the chair and leaned against the wall where the woman had been. She ran her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes for a moment. “Of course you don’t. But we can imagine, can’t we? Perhaps it was strangers in the night,” she murmured more softly. “Yes, it’s quite private here.”

She was all mystery and silk, and her dress clung provocatively where rain had dampened it. Holly wanted to back away, but now Galina had her hand, was pulling her into the corner, turning her so her back was against that same wall.

“Can you imagine it,” Galina whispered. “Two people see each other, want each other, and do something about it? I’m tired of bony waifs in my bed. I saw you and realized how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman who was soft, and curving…”

Galina’s hand slipped around Holly’s hip. There was no air. “I’m not…” she tried to say, but she wasn’t at all sure she had actually spoken.

“And I’ve always had this fantasy of doing something just like this.”

Dangerous, seductive … Galina was leaning into her now, her breasts shocking Holly’s into responsive tightening. Her hands ran up Holly’s arms until she cupped Holly’s face and then the world paused. The music stopped, the rain stopped. Her heart stopped.

All for a kiss of fervent desire, for the eager meeting of their mouths. Her mouth opened, she pulled Galina’s arms around her. She kissed her. And moaned, low in her throat.

The world began again, and her heart pounded behind her eyes. She thought she might faint because the kiss was perfect and it would be easier if everything could just end here. Because the next moment would bring all the rest of it, the new questions, the self-doubt — the fear. Her moan became a whimper and even terrified she continued that kiss, aware of the heat of Galina’s body and that it had been so long since she had felt warm.