Insidious

Delsey stopped in her tracks in the doorway, stared at the herd of government staffers, fresh out of the office, already hootin’ and hollerin’, nearly all of them under thirty and happy, making huge noise. They had to be celebrating a win, maybe a contentious bill had passed.

She saw him seated in a side booth, alone, rolling a bottle of Brau pale ale, her favorite, between his hands. Her heart skittered seeing him now. This was over-the-top crazy, but it didn’t matter; she knew she was a goner.

Rob looked up and saw her. His eyes locked on hers, his lovely smile bloomed big. He rose so fast he nearly knocked over his ale, and stepped out of the booth. Getting to her was hard, so many happy folk in the way.

Then he was standing in front of her, still smiling big, his green eyes bright and hot, she couldn’t miss that. He was incredible, tall, lean and fit, splendid, yes, that’s what he was, simply splendid.

“Hi.” She couldn’t seem to get any spit in her mouth.

“Hi, yourself,” Rob said and took her hand. “Let’s see if I can’t navigate you safely through this government horde. No wonder the politicos hire them young in Washington. They’re worked like dogs and party like college frat kids, burn out at thirty.”

Delsey didn’t care if they were puppies freed from the pound.

The jukebox cranked up and Delsey’s brain kicked in. She tugged on his hand. “Listen, they’re playing one of my songs—no, not a favorite, I mean, one I wrote myself, for a friend.”

“You wrote it?”

“Yes. The title’s Bongo Beat. Do you like it?”

“Like it? My feet are already tapping. Too bad it’s too early to dance. You a good dancer?”

She grinned up at him. “Oh, yeah. You?”

“My moves are legendary.”

He led her laughing to his table, ordered her a bottle of the pale ale from a harried waiter, who rolled his eyes at government staffers blocking his way.

Rob had only to look at her face and his words came pouring out. “At lunch yesterday I sort of hoped it was an aberration or a weird temporary hallucination, but it isn’t. You’re incredible, Delsey, incredible. You’re beautiful; you’re smart; you’re funny. And your talent? You blow me away.” He stopped talking and stared at her glowing face, her dilated eyes.

“Thank you. My brother thinks I’m an idiot. All I could talk about was you.”

He reached out his hand, a beautiful hand with long strong fingers, and short buffed nails, like his. She didn’t hesitate, put her hand into his. He said, “I hate this place. I want to leave, I want you—us—alone, all right?”

“Yes, all right.”

He threw a twenty down on the table, and pulled her through the laughing crowd to the sidewalk outside the Grill. He pulled her against him, leaned down, and kissed her. People parted to walk around them.

There was a whistle, then a woman’s voice saying, “I’m jealous, go home.”

“Nah,” a guy said. “Go find a room.”

Delsey pulled back, saw the woman grinning at her and grinned back. She looked up at Rob. “A good idea,” she said, nothing more.

“The Gibson Hotel, it’s on the next block.”

They walked hand in hand to the hotel, and Delsey stepped away from him while he went to register in the small ultramodern lobby. People flowed around her, all of them talking, but she didn’t really see them or hear them. All of her was focused on him, only him, and what she was going to do to him and with him.

He was with her again, holding a key card. He took her hand and they nearly ran to the elevator. Two older couples got on the elevator with them, the two women talking up a storm, so many shopping bags in their hands, and in their husbands’ hands. They’d obviously had fun. But she knew she was about to have lots more.

Once inside the dim-lit room, Rob grabbed her, lifted her, and laid her on her back on the big king-size bed. He was over her, kissing her, and she kissed him back, her hands on his back, in his hair. He whispered, “You’re sure?”

She looked at him straight-on. “I probably shouldn’t be, but yes, I’m more than sure. If you don’t kiss me again, I’ll hurt you.”

He laughed, kissed her, and lay on top of her, and that was only the beginning.

The early-evening turndown maid stopped outside the door, her hand raised to knock. She heard moans and laughter, some words she couldn’t understand. She smiled. She left a dozen pillow chocolates outside the door, sitting on top of two towels.

* * *

Delsey lay on her back, her legs sprawled, her hair tangled about her head, half her clothes still on. Rob lay beside her, both of them breathing hard, his hand clutching hers. She felt deliriously content and happy. She felt sated. “I don’t want any more time to pass. I want it to stop, right here, right now.”

“That’d be good,” he said, his voice low and scratchy. “What’s your middle name?”

“Faith. What’s yours?”

“North, after an uncle back in the Rasmussen family tree. The old dude left my dad a bundle of money, not two days before I was born. Your brother’s name is Hammersmith. Why is yours different?”

“I was married once, for about thirty minutes. He was a criminal, but I really liked his name, so I kept it.” She grinned, turning to balance on her elbow above him. “I’m a mess.”

He raised a hand, ran it through her hair, pulling out some of the tangles. “I didn’t know you existed before yesterday. And now I never want you out of my sight. I’ve been pathetic, all I could do was think about you and grin like a fool, when I should have been working. My guys knew, the bastards. I couldn’t wait to see you. I wanted to call you an hour after you left but I didn’t know your cell number or where you were. I wasn’t about to call Savich or your brother. They might have shot me.”

He leaned down, kissed her, and began unbuttoning her blouse. “I don’t know how I could have left you half dressed. It’s like eating only half a slice of cake.” He looked down at her long bare legs. His fingers slowed. “Delsey, I don’t want you to think I do this all the time, you know, take a woman to bed the minute I meet her. I don’t. I haven’t wanted to, and that’s the truth. But you’re different, and I know this is different for you, too. Your eyes are green, like mine, only they’re darker, more beautiful.”