9½ Days. Mia Zachary

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ right.

      The early-autumn heat wave made everything hot and tight and sticky. Not unlike the heat she felt racing along her veins whenever she relived those mind-blowing moments at the St. Charles Hotel. Over the past two nights, the firefighter from the elevator had become the faceless lover of her dreams. In her midnight fantasies that first explosive orgasm was followed by several others as they made crazy, passionate love against the wood-paneled wall.

      Jordan gave herself a mental shake as a truck horn blared impatiently. She had to stop this. There was probably a special area in purgatory for good girls gone bad. And she might as well get used to the idea because, if her daydreams were any indication, she was more than willing to be bad again.

      She crossed the street with a determined stride, heading toward the Pratt Street Pavilion where she was meeting her college roommates, Sheris Smith and Melanie Walters, for their Monthly Monday lunch. In the tiny amphitheater between the two main buildings of the Harborplace complex, a crowd clapped and ignored the midday heat as a juggler tossed bowling pins in time to music.

      The cool air inside the Pavilion was a welcome relief, and Jordan took a moment to let her body adjust and to check her watch. Five minutes early. Which meant Melanie would arrive at exactly twelve-thirty, and they should only have to wait another fifteen minutes after that for Sheris to show up.

      She opened the door to the Cheesecake Factory restaurant, gave her name to the hostess and asked for an inside table. Once seated, she settled in with a raspberry iced tea, idly gazing out the tinted glass window.

      Families and couples of all ages strolled along the red brick promenade on the harbor’s edge. Water taxis and duck boats carried tourists around the Patapsco River between the Inner Harbor and Fell’s Point. A line of people waited to tour the USS Constellation, a three-masted Civil War sloop anchored at Pier One.

      Looking past the facade of the World Trade Center, Jordan could see the triangular glass roof of the National Aquarium. She’d been meaning to get over there and see the new Amazon River Forest exhibit…

      “Hi!” Melanie bounced toward the table at twelve-thirty on the dot and waved to several people as she walked by. Mel was a diminutive dynamo and seemed to know everybody. With her petite figure and boy-short hairstyle, she looked like a happy pixie.

      She dressed like one, too. Today she wore a bright yellow-and-white-striped pants set that complemented her coffee skin. Jordan smiled. You couldn’t help but smile at Melanie. She was like a walking dose of antidepressant. Her wide-set eyes always reflected her joy in life.

      She stood up to trade hugs. No air kisses with Mel, who was genuine in everything she did. “I’m glad you could come today.”

      “Of course, Jordan! I wouldn’t miss our monthly lunch! How have you been? Is that our waitress? I’m dying of thirst!”

      “Try the raspberry tea. I think you’ll like it.” Jordan kept her voice carefully modulated since Melanie tended to make either a question or an exclamation of everything she said. “So, tell me what’s new.”

      “Rochelle did so well in school! And can you believe it? Chris made the winning goal for his soccer team during the last game of the season! Guess what we’re doing? Bill and I are taking the kids to Disney!”

      “That sounds great. But I thought you were planning a vacation without the kids.” Although Melanie treated her boyfriend’s children like her own, Jordan knew she often wished for more adults-only time.

      Melanie reached for her tea and drank half of it before answering. “Oh, that’s our anniversary trip in November! Bill and I are going back to Costa Rica! I think he’s finally going to propose! Have you and David talked about where you’ll spend your honeymoon? You two would just love Costa Rica!”

      She was saved from having to answer when she noticed heads near the restaurant entrance turning. “There’s Sheris.”

      Sheris nodded in response to Melanie’s excited wave and sauntered across the dining room. She always moved as though she owned whatever place she was in. Given her family’s diversified investments, she might very well have part ownership of the restaurant.

      Jordan stifled a pang of envy over her friend’s casual stylishness. Jordan spent hours meticulously planning her outfits and tending to her hair and makeup. Meanwhile, Sheris managed to look gorgeous in whatever she’d thrown on before casually running a brush through her hair and walking out the door. Her dark gypsy curls fell past her shoulders, which were bared by the white peasant blouse she wore with a short leather skirt and sandals. Only Sheris could wear leather in this heat and still look cool.

      “Sorry I’m late,” she offered as she brushed a kiss near each of their cheeks. Sheris dropped her overstuffed Louis Vuitton bag on the floor and slid into the seat across from Jordan.

      “You’re right on time, actually. Are you sick?”

      Sheris laughed. “No, just depressed. I came downtown early to do some pity purchasing.”

      Jordan glanced down but didn’t see even a small shopping bag. “You didn’t find anything you liked?”

      “Actually I saw several things, but I restrained myself in case I’m still feeling blue tomorrow.” Sheris pulled back her hair to reveal a stunning pair of Ceylon sapphire earrings that exactly matched her deep-set eyes.

      Melanie angled closer to get a better look. “Wow! Those are really blue! I take it you broke things off with Grant?”

      “Yeah. It seemed best.” Sheris’s reply sounded offhand, but the expression on her face said otherwise. She paused while the waitress brought another glass of tea and three menus.

      “You know, it was so great in the beginning. I thought maybe…well, you know how it goes. I got restless, he got defensive. He wanted to buy a place together, I suggested he find a place by himself.”

      “I’m sorry, honey.” Jordan reached over to grasp her hand.

      “Me, too.” Sheris offered a bright smile. “But, hey, they can’t all be Bill or David now, can they?”

      “Or Logan.” Melanie threw out the comment while perusing the extensive lunch choices.

      Sheris dropped her menu on the table. “Now what in the world made you bring up my ex-husband?”

      Mel looked embarrassed. “It just slipped out? I must have heard him last night?”

      “Has he still got that little radio program? I didn’t realize.” Sheris tried unsuccessfully to sound dismissive and bored.

      Jordan pictured the full-size, full-color billboards on I-95 and the B/W Parkway coming into the city and hid her smile. If Sheris wanted to pretend to be the only person in the Baltimore metropolitan area who didn’t listen to In the Mood with McGuire, so be it.

      “Logan was just one in a long line of relationship regrets.” With that, Sheris changed the subject. “I’m going to have the Crusted Chicken Romano over Fettuccine. How about you girls?”

      “Mmm. Sounds good,” Melanie replied. “But I’m going to go with the Seafood Cobb Salad.”

      Jordan’s stomach growled at the thought of fried chicken and carbohydrate-laden pasta or fat-packed avocados, shrimp and blue cheese. She СКАЧАТЬ