The Pleasure Set Read online

  Later that evening, she spotted Theresa and Roger through the crowd. Theresa was wearing a dark blue strapless dress with a rather large sparkling diamond necklace. She looked ravishing. Theresa glanced her way and smiled just as Roger’s hand settled on her shoulder.

  “Not as much fun as the Tire Store, is it?”

  Laney turned to meet the million-dollar smile of Candace Dooring. Other than being involved in a few group chats, Laney hadn’t talked much to the TV star.

  “Candace, hello,” she said.

  “Stag tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me, too. I don’t have a husband to drag around. As a matter of fact, I don’t even have a wife to drag around. But it’s all good.”

  Laney laughed. “Neither do I.”

  “Especially with Roger here.” Candace lifted her chin toward Theresa. “She sure has her sights set on you.”

  “She does?”

  “She hasn’t focused that much attention on anyone in a while. I’m just not sure that’s a good thing,” she said, and shrugged in an odd way. “But you’re safe tonight. Wifely duties call. I heard you all had fun at the bank the other night.”

  Laney’s heart stopped for a millisecond. “You heard we were there?”

  Candace nodded. “Fucking the system. Don’t worry. No one talks outside the group. That’s the problem.”

  The reassurance made her feel a little better, but Candace’s last words were a bit cryptic.

  “You should be careful,” Candace added. “The Pleasure Set is more than you might think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Candace’s eyes darted left and right abruptly. “I stopped going. There’s something—”

  Morgan walked up.

  “Hello, ladies.” Morgan placed her hand on Candace’s shoulder. “Having a nice time?”

  “Yes,” Laney replied.

  “Candace, we haven’t seen you out in a while. Everything okay?”

  Candace wouldn’t look at Morgan and stared straight ahead toward Laney. “I’ve been working.”

  Morgan smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “Well, let’s hope we see you soon.” She nodded to Laney and meandered away.

  Candace gulped down the rest of her drink. Laney couldn’t ascertain the source of the tension and wasn’t sure she should bring it up because Candace seemed very apprehensive now. Changing the subject might help. “So, what have you been working on?”

  “A television series called Cyber High. It’s popular with the pre-teen crowd. We’re mini-gods to anyone under thirteen.”

  Laney wondered what Candace’s producers would think if they knew about her partying with the Pleasure Set. Worse yet, she wondered what the pre-teens would think.

  They stayed in back by the open bar and talked for another half an hour or so. It was too crowded for Laney to even try to make her way around to see the paintings hanging on the walls, so getting to know Candace was fine with her.

  She hadn’t spoken with Theresa, whom she’d lost sight of right after Theresa smiled at her. A few of the Pleasure Set women had ambled by to say hi while refreshing their drinks, and finally, around ten thirty, she told Candace she would be leaving.

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Candace said. “But I’m afraid the paparazzi may get pushy. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Mind? Probably half of her friends and all of her coworkers would love for the paparazzi to hassle them. “Let’s go.”

  Out on the street, cameras flashed and people hollered, “Candace, over here!” as they made their way through the crowd.

  Pushing through the throng of camera-jockeying people was daunting as Laney and Candace were swarmed and jostled. Candace slipped her arm through hers and gripped her tight. Everywhere Laney looked, flashes burst in her eyes. She had seen Candace’s pictures in magazines and now the famous actress was holding on to her. The paparazzi were on both sides of them, those in front of them walking backward as they called out Candace’s name.

  Candace told her to keep pushing through and didn’t let go until the paparazzi finally retreated a couple of blocks down the street.

  “Thanks, Laney,” Candace said as she retrieved her car keys from her purse. “Can I give you a lift to your car?”

  “No, I’m just a block or two that way.”

  “Okay, then. And Laney…” Candace hesitated. She suddenly looked scared. “Be careful.”

  Candace’s lips parted again and Laney leaned closer to hear the words that were forming, but instead a subtle grimace washed across Candace’s face and her mouth clamped shut.

  Laney watched Candace unlock the door and climb into her Lexus. Why did Candace’s concern seem so dire?

  *

  Laney had been to the O-Bar on Santa Monica Boulevard many times. The designers had hit all their marks in creating an elegant dining atmosphere. Just the right elements of fabric, stone, water, wood, and fire in both their dining room and popular Forbidden Garden made this the perfect atmosphere to share with Sandrine.

  The server brought Laney the fettuccini and wild mushroom pasta, and Sandrine chose the pan-roasted salmon.

  “Try this.” The forkful Sandrine offered Laney tasted delightful.

  They shared bites and light conversation until dinner was almost over. Laney loved hearing about Sandrine’s life. She was viewing a more detailed picture of who this wonderful woman was. Sandrine was as delightful as usual, and even the small talk at the beginning of dinner was enjoyable and full of wit and appeal.

  It was easy to open up to Sandrine, and after dinner, Laney asked her to go for a drink in the garden. As the servers came to take their dishes, Laney ordered red wine to be brought outside.

  O-Bar’s outside Forbidden Garden area was as magnificent as the dining area, with the added bliss of seventy-degree weather. The night had cooled and a light desert breeze ruffled the fabric-shade structures. With up-lit palm trees, flickering candles, and grassy islands divided by stone pathways, the Forbidden Garden embodied elegance and relaxation.

  They sat toward the back on a wicker sofa punctuated with plush caramel-colored pillows. As they drank their wine, Laney let her head fall back and looked at the stars.

  “How have you been all these long days since we last had dinner?” Sandrine asked.

  “Well, I haven’t seen you, which is a bummer.” Laney grinned and watched Sandrine’s mouth turn up into a smile as well. “But otherwise, things have been exciting and a little crazy.” Laney didn’t want to share the details with Sandrine; it would definitely not be appropriate. But she didn’t want Sandrine to misunderstand their time together. “This date, however, has been the most enjoyable one I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Not exciting, you mean?” Sandrine’s sly grin let Laney know she was kidding.

  “A different kind of exciting.”

  “And certainly not crazy,” Sandrine said. “I hope.”

  “You hope?”

  “A crazy date. You know, the kind that makes you look at your watch and wonder if you’ll ever get home without the police getting involved.”

  Laney laughed. “So you’ve had those kinds of dates?”

  “Yes.” Sandrine sipped her wine.

  “You have to tell me.”

  “Once,” Sandrine began, “I was on a date with a woman whom I had met at an organic food store. We decided to go out for dinner, so we went to a restaurant in town and five minutes into the main entrée she took off her jacket. What she had on underneath, let me just say, was more revealing than is acceptable in public.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. It was a silk tank top with the armholes cut so low you could see the skin of her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and when she gestured, everything jiggled around and sometimes wiggled right out.”

  “Wow.”

  “When too much of her breasts started popping out, the manager came over and asked her to cover up.”

  “Did she?”

  “Not only did she n
ot, she got so incensed that she stood up and pulled her tank top off.”

  Laney laughed and Sandrine joined her. “She said, ‘This is me and this is a natural thing, a thing of beauty.’”

  “No, she didn’t!”

  “Yes. I tried to convince her to cover up, too, but she yelled, ‘This is for you! I’m beautiful and special and I want you to see me!’” Sandrine paused. “Of course, everyone else could see her, too, so it wasn’t that special in my book.”

  Laney laughed even harder. “I take it that was your last date?”

  “Oh, yes. I made her leave before the restaurant could call the police. With my luck, someone I know would have shown up, and then I would have been the butt of jokes at the station for a long time.”

  “I remember once,” Laney said when the laughter died down a little, “I was on a blind date that a coworker set up. When she picked me up, she was driving a hearse.”

  “Like a vintage hearse converted into a classic car?”

  “No. Like a working hearse with the mortuary name on the side. She explained that she worked at a funeral home and needed to drop by work really quick before our dinner. When we arrived, she parked out back and invited me in. She gave me a quick tour, which was a little weird, but I was thinking, hey, everybody has a job, and the business of dead people is a job.”

  Sandrine chuckled. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

  “You’d be right. She kept stalling and I got a little creeped out. Then the back door buzzed and she answered it. Some paramedics were wheeling in a gurney with a body on it. She apparently had been paged on the way over to my house to receive a new, ah, client.”

  “No!”

  “Yes. I waited in the chapel while she did whatever she had to with the body, and after a long while, she came in apologizing for the delay. She said that since we had missed our dinner reservations, she’d ordered pizza in.”

  “In the mortuary?”

  Laney rolled her eyes and nodded. “She had set up a table and we ate dinner with about twenty dead bodies.”

  Sandrine’s genuine-sounding belly laugh warmed Laney’s heart. “I suppose romance was hard to come by with all those people so near.”

  “It was nonexistent. I could barely gulp down the pepperoni before I pretended to be tired so she would take me home.”

  Laney and Sandrine continued to share funny stories on the drive back to Sandrine’s. When they pulled into the driveway, Laney turned off the engine and they sat there until the laughing died down.

  “You mentioned earlier that your last serious relationship ended badly.”

  Sandrine nodded. “It did.”

  “What happened?”

  “I met Chris, my ex, when she was at UCLA studying for her master’s degree. Things were good at the beginning, but I sensed that she had an edge that she hadn’t really shown. She would go off into some dark mental place at times, but she always came back. It began to happen more often and when I tried to find out what was going on with her, our conversations led to arguments. I was beginning to wonder if she was having an affair or secretly on drugs, but I found out that she simply couldn’t control her anger. One day, after an unusually rough night of arguing, she got drunk and tried to stab me.”

  “She did?”

  “Tried. I’d never seen her that drunk before. She just went ballistic. Before I knew it, she disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a carving knife. She came out swinging it and trying to slash me. I eventually subdued her, but I could see the intent in her eyes. I made her leave that night. I was so shocked I could barely think. And the next morning, I woke up totally devastated. I knew that no matter what she said or did after that, I’d never be able to trust her.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “When I was little…” Sandrine paused for a long moment. It seemed that she was debating the direction her thoughts were taking her.

  She began again. “When I was little, my mother abused me emotionally and physically. My father didn’t know about most of it because she always waited until he was at work or out of town. I never knew when the yelling or the beatings would come.

  “Years later, when I was with Chris, I told my father about my mother. I thought he would die. He was totally distraught. I felt even worse telling him because of the pain I caused him. But he encouraged me to seek counseling. He even went with me to many sessions. I was just beginning to understand that in the isolation of my own mind, I was forming some very cynical perceptions of people. I was working on realizing that not all people would hurt me like my mother did. And then the incident with Chris happened.”

  Sandrine looked hesitant, as if she thought she might be revealing too much. Laney put her hand on Sandrine’s knee and squeezed it, and Sandrine seemed to gather her nerve.

  “After Chris attacked me, I began to have nightmares. In my last session with the counselor, we talked about the connection between Chris’s behavior and my mother’s abuse. And that was as far as I could go with the therapy. All I could think about were Chris’s eyes. Her expression was the same as my mother’s during the times she yelled at me or hit me.”

  Sandrine dropped her head and gazed into her lap. When she had been silent for a few moments, Laney took her hand. “That was a lot to go through, Sandrine.”

  “I let my fear take over and quit therapy.”

  “We can only handle so much. You went as far as you could at the time. There’s no shame in that.”

  Sandrine looked up, her smile tight-lipped. “After my first date with you, I wished I had gone further.” Her eyes fluttered for a moment. “I still feel broken.”

  Laney’s chest felt heavy and her heart ached from hearing what Sandrine had gone through. “Well, I think you’re doing great.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  “And you’re incredible.”

  They stayed in Laney’s car and talked a while longer. There was something very special about this woman, and Laney’s attraction for her was growing quickly. Sandrine was courageous and resilient. She made her feel comfortable, and Laney respected her quiet confidence, her gentle spirit, and especially her attentive demeanor.

  After a while, Sandrine covered her watch with her hand and said, “I don’t want to know that it’s past my bedtime.”

  “An early day for you tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Very.” Sandrine smiled. “And I’ll think of this date all day.” Uncovering her watch, she stroked Laney’s cheek lightly. “You’re a breathtaking woman, Laney.”

  Sandrine leaned over and they kissed, Sandrine’s lips caressing Laney’s softly. When her lips parted, Laney met her tongue in a slow, easy dance. Laney melted as Sandrine’s warm hand stroked her face. She felt her sweet breath and the tickle of her hair brushing her face. The kiss felt better than any she’d ever remembered feeling.

  On her way home, Laney realized how much she had enjoyed the simple and real pleasures of the evening. She would rather merely kiss Sandrine than do anything else with another woman.

  In contrast, things were getting old with Theresa. The sex had been fun, but their relationship had nowhere to go. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to play the field or have unreserved sex without much emotion. Sure, the lust and excitement were there with Theresa. Laney’s body immediately reacted to her touches, her breathing accelerated, and she instantly got wet. But her mind almost went blank. Laney’s arousal was simply a reaction to the performance of her body parts. Theresa would probably hold her if Laney asked, but she wouldn’t do much more than that. Theresa would go back to her husband and, other than some conversation on the phone, usually to tell Laney about the next outing of the Pleasure Set, they would have no real contact.

  Obviously they had established that dynamic between them: straightforward sex. And while it was certainly satisfying, the satisfaction was totally corporeal. Theresa definitely knew what to touch and kiss and how to move her body against Laney’s, but they didn’t share any joy, ardor, or true, deep
ly felt passion.

  However, time with Sandrine was wonderful and stimulating. And they had a deepening connection that Laney wanted to foster and grow.

  She pulled into her driveway and killed her car’s engine. A revelation surfaced, extraordinary and concise. She had been experiencing two different people in two different ways. With Theresa, her feelings were concentrated between her legs. With Sandrine, her feelings lived in her heart. There it was, right there. That was the difference between sex and romance. And romance felt better.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sandrine awoke to the sun shining in her window. Normally, she was up before dawn, but she had luxuriated in sleeping in and now lay there smiling.

  Dinner the night before had been fantastic. She could hardly comprehend that she had actually had a second date with Laney. The thought reminded her of classic black-and-white movies where the main characters pine over one another and both of them struggle through most of the movie until they can finally fall into each other’s arms.

  Her longing for Laney through the years of their business relationship had been like a yearning from afar. But now it seemed they had reached the falling-into-each-other’s-arms part.

  She had begun to mentally sift through her compulsory errands for the day when her cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning.” It was Laney. “How did you sleep?”

  “Very well. And I hate to admit it, but I haven’t left my bed yet.”

  “Ah, it’s a lazy Saturday morning, is it?”

  “Very much so.” Sandrine couldn’t imagine a better voice to hear first thing.

  “I called to ask a favor.”

  “Sure, Laney, what is it?”