A Half Dozen Fools Read online

  "Maybe," Elyse answered in a teasing voice, "only five or six times before, during, and after dinner."

  He nuzzled her neck. "Mm...what a body! You make me crazy, you know that?"

  "You might have mentioned that a couple of times, too."

  He laughed and tickled her ribs.

  "Ow--stop! No tickling! I hate that--stop, Bobby!"

  He stopped only to kiss her.

  Before he got too hot, Elyse decided to revisit a subject she'd alluded to during dinner and hadn't fully pursued.

  Gently breaking away, she slid back against the sofa and assumed an alluring pose. Bobby grinned and waited for her next move. Pouting playfully, she draped herself suggestively against the armrest. He leaned back to look at her, head cocked to one side.

  "So, Bobby?" she ventured.

  Bobby's blue eyes sparkled with desire. "Yes, Elyse?"

  "Remember back at dinner, when I mentioned how my friend, Nissa, got that great gig in Belize?"

  "Mm-hmm..."

  "Well, she's a good makeup artist, but, believe me--so am I."

  "I have no doubt of that. You showed me your artwork. From that alone, I'm impressed. I have no doubt it translates to the skin."

  "Right. Well, that's kind of my point."

  "What's your point?"

  Since asking favors did not come naturally to her, Elyse poised herself in preparation. Throughout her whole life, she'd found it difficult to come right out and ask for what she wanted. She preferred to go out and earn it. But she'd also come to realize there were certain places you couldn't get to without assistance. If she wanted the opportunity to earn in a new way, she was going to need a little help getting in.

  This is business, and my career's at stake.

  She bucked up to make her request when the prickly fear of rejection suddenly spread across her skin. She swallowed and pushed it away, focusing her mind solely on what she needed now.

  "Okay, well," she began. "Nissa's a lucky girl, wouldn't you say? A free gig to Belize, working with all those super models and a famous photographer?"

  Bobby cast her a coy look. "Why, Elyse, you want to go to Belize?"

  "No, I don't care so much about that part as I do the other."

  "What other?"

  "The part where she's working with all those big people--all that talent."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes, Bobby. Look...working at the Make-Up Place is nowhere. I want to do film and television. Like my buddy, Dylan. He's a staff makeup artist for One Day At A Time."

  Understanding dawned over Bobby. "Oh..."

  "He'll help me any way he can, only nobody's leaving at the moment. Who would? It's such a great gig." Emotion got the better of her, and she suddenly threw all caution to the wind. "I need a break, Bobby! I need the chance to work in a better place, like in film or TV. I'd be great!"

  Bobby raised his brows. "I'm sure you would--I have no doubt of that."

  Elyse got excited thinking how incredible it would be to earn big bucks doing what she loved. Deep fires of passion stirred in her belly, and her creative juices began to churn.

  "God, Bobby--it would be so awesome to work in network television. I'd kill for the chance!"

  "Well, baby," he said. "I don't think that's necessary. I can help you out, but nobody has to die."

  Elyse laughed and drew herself up to her knees.

  "I was hoping you'd say that," she purred. "I didn't really want to have to kill for a gig."

  Kneeling close, she pressed against him. He slid his arm between her legs and brought the crook of his elbow up against her crotch. She gyrated against it, and he massaged her backside. Soon she was rotating in rhythm with his rubs.

  Rubbing her ass, he seemed to become lost in thought. Elyse kept her gaze on his face.

  "Yeah," he said slowly, "I can get you in. Lennie does my makeup, this sweet little gay guy. Funny, too. I don't see why he can't show you the ropes. Lemme talk to the producer..."

  A wave of elation washed over Elyse. "Really, Bobby? You would do that for me?"

  "Yeah. I've got the muscle...only, just one thing, you have to promise."

  "What's that?"

  "No talk about us on a personal level. Nobody can know about our relationship, and how we're--involved."

  Elyse stopped gyrating and looked at him. "Look, I'm a consummate professional," she said flatly. "I'd never let my personal relationship interfere with my work--never."

  "I know, but this is network television we're talking about. It's huge. A lot of money at stake. I couldn't afford some of the stupid kinds of mistakes I made early in my career. So--nobody can know about us--no one. You have to swear, or it's not gonna happen."

  Unprepared for such clandestine precautions, Elyse frowned. She wondered why he was so insistent on secrecy. Something in it bothered her, as if he was ashamed of their involvement. She always behaved professionally, no matter where she worked. On set with Joel, she'd behaved like a pro even while he'd flirted shamelessly with her. She'd never once let his behavior alter her professionalism. Now she tried not to take Bobby's caveat personally. Finally, she succeeded. After all, he was holding all the cards.

  "Sure, Bobby, of course. If that's the way you want it..."

  "That's the way I want it," he stated resolutely. "I'll help you, but that's how it has to be."

  "Whatever you say, señor."

  Bobby's conditions on his helping her out had dampened her mojo at the moment. Just as she started to pull away, however, he slid his arm between her legs again, and cupped her butt in his hand. Gently, his other hand reached up to massage her breast. As his thumb expertly kneaded her nipple, she softened and swiveled against him in response. He surprised her when he suddenly flipped her over, pinned her against the sofa, and straddled her.

  While he pressed against her all hot and fired up, she ran her hands along his muscles and arched her back up to meet him.

  "Thank you for helping me, Bobby," she uttered in a breathless voice.

  "You're welcome, Elyse."

  Coming up on one hand, he clasped the zipper of her jumpsuit between his free thumb and forefinger.

  "As much as I love this jumpsuit," he whispered, "I'll love it better when it's off."

  He drew the zipper down along her torso. Then he slipped his palm beneath the fabric and pushed it aside to caress her skin.

  "Mm," he said between kisses, "so soft...so beautiful..."

  A moment later, he slipped the jumpsuit away from her shoulders, all the way down to her waist.

  "I could eat you up!" He dropped down and covered her in kisses.

  Elyse lay back against the sofa, her body rocking with desire further stoked by the thought of working on New York's Finest. Aroused to ecstasy, she grabbed Bobby's hair and pulled his mouth to hers. Their passion erupted, and he gleefully ravaged her. With legs wrapped around his waist, she hung on for the ride.

  * * * *

  As Christmas approached, Elyse worked around the clock in makeup sessions. Even with a freelancer hired for the overflow, she carried the brunt of the bookings. She did her best to calmly embrace the busy days with a joyful outlook and keep the stress under control. After all, she was earning extra cash. Plus, she truly enjoyed helping ladies look their best. Whenever nonstop, back-to-back sessions threatened to overwhelm her, she'd take a deep breath and tell herself she was mastering her craft.

  Three days before Christmas, Elyse had a rare break between appointments and decided to step outside for some air. She took the opportunity to run out for coffee at her favorite coffee shop.

  As always, Eduardo greeted her with plenty of joviality.

  "Hey, Elyse. Feliz Navidad."

  "Same to you, Eduardo. Busy these days?"

  "Crazy! And you?"

  "Same. Better get it while we can though, right?"

  A lull in business gave Eduardo time to pull out his phone and share pictures of his baby daughter and son.

  "I been putting together toys
every night after they go to bed. Don't want to do it all on Christmas morning. My one day off I like to enjoy it, too, a little, you know? I even got my wife cooking that day 'stead of me!"

  Elyse drank in how Eduardo glowed at the mention of his children. As always, his joyousness inspired her.

  She suddenly realized she hadn't seen the copy guy, Keb, for a while, and wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas.

  She paid for her coffee and also stuck a folded twenty-dollar bill inside Eduardo's palm.

  "Wass this?"

  "For you," Elyse answered grinning. "A small, very small token of my esteem--Merry Christmas!"

  "Oh, no, Elyse--"

  "Yes, Eduardo. It's a gift--you can't argue."

  He shook his head.

  "I'm a regular customer, Eddie--you can't say no. Use it for your kids if you want." She blew him a kiss. "Feliz Navidad, amigo."

  Eduardo laughed. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Elyse--and gracias."

  Elyse practically ran over to the copy shop.

  Instead of Keb, however, a sturdy-looking young man with pink cheeks and sandy-colored hair was working behind the counter. When Elyse came in, he was busy multi-tasking. While he printed copies, rang sales, answered the phone, and placed callers on hold, Elyse looked around for Keb. She needed to know whether or not he was somewhere in the store--maybe back getting inventory, or in the office.

  Jumping the line, she called over to the sandy-haired young man. "Hi, excuse me?"

  He cast her a glance while closing a sale.

  "Don't mean to bother you," she added quickly. "I just wondered if Keb was around."

  "Nope, not here," he answered. "Went to the uptown store. Somebody's sick, or something. Had to go fill in."

  "Oh. Is he coming back here, later?"

  "I couldn't say for sure. Can I give him a message?"

  "I just wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas, that's all. Haven't seen him for a while. I work across the street, at the Make-Up Place--Elyse."

  The young man thanked his customer and spun over to the printer jettisoning copies out its side.

  "Sure," he called over to Elyse, "I'll let him know."

  She thanked him and turned to go. She was surprised at how disappointed she felt not wishing Keb a Merry Christmas, or Happy Holiday, or anything.

  When she pulled the door back to leave, it stuck, as usual. But today the bells lacked their typically merry sound. Instead of a musical tinkle, they only clanged noisily.

  * * * *

  After New Year's Day all celebratory charm evaporated, and the post-holiday blues enveloped the city. At the Make-Up Place, Rod grew especially irritable, particularly whenever returns came in. Elyse had the impression he was blaming her when he implied that she'd pushed too hard just to make sales and ended up selling the wrong items to the wrong customers.

  Damned if you do, and damned if you don't.

  The weather turned bitter cold, which served to plummet the city deeper into a bleaker mood. Rod was so irascible one morning his very breath seemed to infect the whole place with its sourness. Elyse was grateful when he finally slithered back to his office lair and closed the door on the world. Hoping to shake the bad vibe left by his negativity, she decided to step out for coffee. When Carla agreed to watch the front counter, she bundled up and ventured into the bone-chilling weather for an attitude adjustment.

  Her mind cleared in the cold, along with an overpowering curiosity to know what had become of Keb. She thought back on the time he'd bought her a coffee that bleak morning after Rick had punched a hole in her living room wall, recalling how he'd comforted her then. The way he'd listened without judgment and assured her she was still a wonderful girl now seemed like an impossibly kind reaction to the stupidity of her drama. Holding her scarf around her throat, she veered over to the copy shop to offer Keb a cup of java, too.

  The sight of the same sandy-haired young man she'd seen at Christmastime again filled her with disappointment. She forced a smile, introduced herself, and met Malcolm, the new store manager.

  "Congratulations, Malcolm. But what happened to Keb? Doesn't he work here anymore?"

  "I guess once he got things in order, he went to the upper West Side store. Getting things in shape there, too, for when his uncle gets back."

  "His uncle?"

  "The owner. Keb's uncle. He owns the copy shops."

  "Oh? Here and uptown?"

  "Yeah. Well, the whole chain actually."

  "What whole chain?"

  "In the tri-state area. Forty altogether, I think."

  "Wow. I didn't know that. So what's Keb's position?"

  "His position...Don't know about that exactly. See, his uncle's been out of commission since his surgery. Keb took over as a favor 'til his uncle got better. But the Manhattan stores were a big concern. The manager here quit right before Mr. Rotheim went in the hospital. And nobody replaced him, so Keb came on board. To kind of reel things in, I guess. Keep them in the black."

  "Geez. Who knew? Good thing he did, I guess."

  "It sure is! I let him know I always dreamed of moving to the city. So he promoted me from my Jersey store to this one."

  "Wow," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "Well, what do you know about that?"

  Elyse considered how she'd assumed Keb was a mere employee--the copy guy, she'd called him. Of course, she'd always thought he had an awful lot on the ball, just for being a clerk. Only now she regretted never having asked him more about himself. Apparently there'd been a lot more going on behind those black-framed glasses than she'd ever realized.

  While she was castigating herself for missing signs of life in Keb, Malcolm continued tooting his horn.

  "Yeah, Keb's a great guy, all right. One of the best. Super smart, too."

  "Where's the uptown store?"

  "Up on Broadway. At Ninety-Sixth, I think."

  Elyse nodded absently, thinking how she ought to go up there for a visit. Then she wondered how appropriate it was to seek out a guy she'd only ...ed with from time to time, and had shared a coffee with once. The more she stopped and thought about it, the clearer it seemed there was no particular reason to go and visit him, beyond curiosity.

  What am I doing? I ought to drop this. If I run into him again, I can find out what's up. If not, well, then--whatever!

  But, the desire to know what Keb was up to pressed on her. In fact, she needed to know. She thanked Malcolm and left the store.

  En route to the coffee shop, the chill air sharpened her thoughts, and she wondered how deep Keb's waters ran. She was amazed at how he'd simply concentrated on work without bragging about his real position. She found it curious that he'd never explained how he was only temporarily in a menial position. Was he that secure within himself that he'd felt no need to impress whatsoever?

  Okay, some of his dry but witty comebacks had left her feeling a bit uneasy at times. But she now realized he was mentally sharp as a tack and had been teasing her. This made her miss him all the more. She longed to hear just one more quip and feel the intensity of his gaze. She cursed herself for a profound lack of judgment in not getting to know him better. Then she realized it had all been in the timing, because when Bobby had entered the picture, he'd usurped all her attention--just as he did now.

  Inside the coffee shop she thought excitedly about how Bobby would be back tomorrow from his holiday away. Finally! He'd been gone three weeks visiting his family in Florida. She anticipated how good it would feel to have him back in town and couldn't wait to see him. Now she would hopefully move forward quickly with her career as a television makeup artist.

  Chapter 11

  Ever since Bobby had come back from Florida, Elyse noticed a shift in his behavior. He'd be incredibly attentive toward her one minute, then close off the next and recede inside his own thoughts. Whenever she tried to get him to share what was on his mind, he'd shrug and basically ignore her. Later he'd act as if nothing was wrong, annoyed if she continued prodding. She wondered if h
is weekly appointments with his shrink were for schizophrenia or another serious mental disorder. He'd never discuss it with her though. Just had a lot on his mind was his facile explanation.

  Over dinner, Elyse didn't press Bobby to explain his sullenness. She'd asked once already, when the oysters had arrived. After tasting only one, he told her she could have all the rest. When he insisted nothing was wrong, Elyse let it go and cheerfully downed them, one by one. Even though he grew crankier as the night wore on, she forced herself to enjoy her meal, alone even in his presence.

  Over cappuccinos, she mentioned the upcoming holiday. "So, my love," she said in her sweetest voice, "we haven't made plans for next Tuesday."

  "Tuesday? What's Tuesday?"

  "You know, the day when chubby little angels shoot arrows into lovers' butts?"

  "Huh?"

  "Valentine's Day, Bobby. It's Tuesday."

  "Oh."

  "Are we doing anything special? Or would you like me to cook dinner for you? I can, you know. I'm pretty darn good at it, when I try. Of course, living alone, I don't do so much of it. It'd be fun to cook for you."

  He grunted without enthusiasm. "I don't know, Elyse. I haven't thought about it much. I'm getting pulled every which way here. I don't know which end is up, right now."

  Elyse tried not to feel hurt by his lack of enthusiasm. "Does this have to do with work, Bobby--or what?"

  "Everything. Just--everything."

  They sat in silence a moment before Elyse asked brightly, "Well, so! Any word from Lennie yet on letting me apprentice him?"

  An irritated expression crossed Bobby's face, but he said nothing. Elyse frowned in consternation.

  "Hello--Bobby? You did ask Lennie if he'd take me on as his apprentice, didn't you?"

  "I told you I'm working on it, Elyse. It's all good. These things take time."

  "Okay, sweetie. Not trying to bug you. Just asking."

  Bobby motioned the waiter for the check. Elyse sat back in her chair. She burned with hurt at his lousy treatment, but said nothing. He finally noticed and apologized.

  "I've got a lot on my mind these days, Elyse, that's all."

  "It's okay, Bobby. I'm sure it'll all work out."