Melissa Good - Tropical Storm

“Doesn’t sound like a bomb,” Dar commented, getting up to answer a light knock on the door. “Nice service.” She opened it and allowed the room service waiter in with a tray. “Put it over there.” The waiter left, and she Tropical Storm 199

poured two steaming cupfuls of the chocolate, adding a tiny mini-marshmallow to each cup and bringing one over to Kerry. “Here you go, good for what ails you.”

Kerry took a sip and managed a smile. “Thanks.” She turned her attention to the television, where searchlights were showing what looked like hundreds of men in various uniforms up to their thighs in water, moving debris and other things around. “It looks horrible.”

“Mmm.” Dar exhaled, then picked up the phone and dialed a number.

“It’s Dar.” She paused, listening. “What’s the story on that plane that went down?” Another pause. “Well, maybe not, but I was supposed to be on it.”

She sighed. “I don’t think so either, but I’d like to be sure. Thanks, Gerry.” She hung up. “Let’s see if we can get some real info.”

“Who was that?” Kerry asked, feeling her spirits rebounding a little. “Or is it one of those—‘if you tell me, you have to kill me’ kind of things?”

“Friend of mine at the Pentagon,” Dar replied. “God, look at that…”

The overhead helicopter shot showed a chaotic mess of fires, lights, and movement on the screen, then suddenly, people started yelling and raising their hands up. The reporter paused and listened to his earpiece, then smiled at the camera. “I’ve just been told they’ve started to find some survivors. It appears as if the plane broke up upon landing in the Everglades, and some people, I repeat, some people have survived.”

“Wasn’t a bomb, then,” Dar commented. “That disintegrates in the air and doesn’t leave much in the way of live humans.” She leaned back against the headboard and stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankles. Kerry was sitting cross-legged on the other side of the bed, cupping her chocolate in both hands.

They watched as first a few, then more injured people were brought out, and helicopters started landing, ready to transport the victims. Kerry finally slid back until she was leaning against the backboard too, wincing as she rubbed her neck, stiff from sitting hunched over for so long.

Dar turned out the lights, leaving just the television on as she stretched her legs out next to Kerry’s. “You doing all right?”

Kerry let her head rest against the padded wood. “I don’t know,” she answered after a pause. “I didn’t think they were keeping that close a watch on me. Jesus! I never even told them I was going to Orlando.”

Dar sipped her chocolate thoughtfully. “Remind me to have Maria mask your travel next time,” she said. “What in the hell do they think they’re doing, anyway? You’re a grown woman.” She frowned, turning to look at Kerry.

“They think they own you?”

Kerry’s lashes fluttered in the bluish light from the television. “It’s hard to explain,” she murmured. “I don’t think you’d understand if I…”

“Damn straight I don’t understand,” Dar replied bluntly. “My parents never agreed with pretty much a damn thing I did, but they never denied me the right to be whatever I wanted to be,” she said. “And they sure never followed me around.”

Kerry turned to face her. “Well, that’s why I left.” She felt a bit embarrassed, and sensed in a way she’d been diminished in Dar’s eyes, somehow. “I wanted to get away from all that.”

200 Melissa Good

“Seems like they don’t want to let go,” Dar said.

“Seems like,” Kerry admitted. “They are my family.”

Dar looked away, out the window for a few seconds. “In that case, glad I don’t have one.”

Kerry felt a jumble of emotions stir inside her. Fear, chiefly—rooted in the knowledge of how fragile her freedom seemed sometimes—and shame that she could sit here feeling like that next to Dar, who was so proudly independent. “They, um…” She curled her hands around the cup of hot chocolate, glad of its warmth on her suddenly chilled skin. “They think they’re doing what’s best for me. I guess.”

Her companion glanced at her. “You really buy that?”

Do I? “I think they buy it,” Kerry admitted softly. “I’ve got different plans for my life.”

“Good.” Dar patted her hand, then went back to reviewing the screen.

The low murmur of the television settled between them as they watched in silence for a while, the images flitting on and off the screen. But Kerry found herself unable to focus on them, and she blinked a few times as the cool air in the room stung her eyes. A warmth against her shoulder almost made her jump, until she realized it was Dar’s arm, as the dark-haired woman shifted slightly and lifted her cup up to her lips, the motion apparently not a deliberate one. Kerry appreciated it nonetheless and she relaxed a little bit, silently acknowledging the long day, the sun, the unexpected crisis, and the several ales that were playing havoc with her emotions. She exhaled softly.

After another moment’s silence, Dar turned and looked at her, one brow lifting in question. “Long day,” Kerry said. “I think I should go get some sleep.”

“Good idea.” Dar set her cup down, then reached over and took Kerry’s from her. “We’ve got a presentation to do.” She picked up the television remote and clicked it off, plunging the room into unexpected darkness.

“Oh.” Kerry had been in the process of persuading her body to move from the comfortable surface. “Hey, give me a chance to find my way out of here.”

“Bed’s big enough for the entire board of directors.” Dar’s voice floated over to her. “You can stay where you are.”

Kerry’s vision adjusted, and she could see the dark square that would lead her into her own room. She was so tired, though, that even the thought of moving made her eyes close, and she didn’t protest as Dar pulled the covers up over them both. Oh well. She caught a hint of warm skin and clean cotton, and sleep took her before she could absorb the tingle the knowledge brought her.

Dar regarded her companion, who was curled onto her side, her breathing already evening out into sleep. She let her arm rest on the bed near her bedmate, and after a few minutes, glanced up at a touch. Fingers were curled around her forearm. Dar looked at her companion closely, saw the steady, even breathing, and realized she was deeply asleep. An unconscious motion, then, Kerry reaching out to her instinctively, desiring the comfort of a touch she’d never presume while awake.

Dar put her head down on her pillow and looked up at the dimly seen Tropical Storm 201

ceiling. She felt off-balance and thought maybe all those mugs had been a few too many after all. What am I thinking, sharing my room, sharing my bed with Kerry? Sure, we’re becoming friends, and yeah, we had fun, and sure, I tossed off a client to go spend time with her, but…

A soft rustle attracted her attention, and she turned her head as Kerry stirred, shifting a little closer and moving her grip, her fingers slipping along Dar’s skin in a wonderfully warm sensation. It felt really nice. Kerry was smiling, just a little, in her sleep, and Dar smiled back, gazing at the smaller woman with quiet affection.

With a faint shrug, she dismissed her misgivings and closed her eyes.

After all, the bed was big enough for a half dozen people, and no one had to know they’d both slept in it. She tugged the covers up a bit further, bringing a puff of air up from under them. Aware of Kerry’s warm scent which imprinted itself into her senses as a compound of clean cotton, sun tan oil and a hint of apricot. Nice.

KERRY BECAME FUZZILY aware of pale sunlight, warm against her closed eyelids, and a sense of quiet peace that radiated mostly from the shoulder against which she was snuggled. She took in a breath and recognized the scent of the wool blanket, and a pleasant, spicy smell her brain amiably identified as Dar Roberts’ perfume.

Her body was relaxed, and one arm was wrapped around a gently moving surface that was warm and soft, and she was aware of a feeling of contentedness that eased through her as she nestled a little closer, soaking in the wonderful sensation. Another breath, then her sleepy mind put together Dar, and scent, and the shoulder she was cuddling, and almost spat her heart out of her ears in her haste to get blood to her brain. Oh goddamnitalltohellIcan’tbelieveIdid... She held her breath and cracked open an eyelid, seeing smooth, tanned skin at very close range. Oh my god. It was very quiet in the room, and she very carefully rotated her eyeball up and peeked at Dar’s face.

Fast asleep. Phew. Kerry cautiously unwound herself from her unexpected embrace and eased away, feeling a vague but definite sense of regret. She lifted her head a little to check the clock, relieved that it was only seven thirty.

She curled an arm around her pillow, and once again, safely on her side of the bed, she took the opportunity to study her sleeping boss. Damn, I got lucky.

What if she’d woken up? Jesus, Kerry. Remember you work for her, okay? This is supposed to be business.

But her body ached to go back to her snuggling, craving Dar’s touch with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. It had felt so good. She sighed and rolled over. C’mon, get moving. Go do something productive like get breakfast ordered, and check the mail. Stupid crush.

She got up, and trudged out of the room, going to the phone in her own room and calling room service. Then she remembered she was supposed to call Colleen back, and checked her watch. I should catch her. She dialed the phone and waited. “Col?”

“Ker? Oh damn, I fell asleep last night again. Did you call?”

“It was too late. I had a bad time with the folks, and then we watched the news…and I fell asleep too,” Kerry told her. “But some of those people lived. I saw that.”

“About fifty percent of them, yeah.” Colleen yawned. “You coming home today?”

“I think so, yes. We have a meeting at ten, and they said they would Tropical Storm 203

announce who won the bid. After that, there’s no reason for us to hang around here.”

“How is it? Boring?” the redhead asked.

Kerry indulged in a sweet memory of waking, then sighed. “No, it’s not boring. We had these meetings and a sort of fight between our account team and the IBM account team, that was kind of wild. Then we had to, um, evaluate some stuff last night, so…”

“Honey, that sounds as boring as my Aunt Mary’s penances. Did you even get to pick up that Pluto thing you wanted?”

Kerry smiled wryly. “Well, to be totally honest with you…yes, because I spent most of the day in Epcot yesterday.”

There was dead silence. “Ooo, you little stinker. All business meetings, huh?” Colleen laughed. “You sneak away, or did the dragon lady not need you?”

“Um, no, she was there too,” Kerry told her. “The meetings let out early yesterday and weren’t going to start up again until today, so there wasn’t much we could do but a little sightseeing.”

“Ew. You got stuck walking around Epcot Center with the robot woman from hell?” Colleen made a sympathetic noise. “You poor thing.”

“I survived.” Kerry debated whether or not to protest her characterization of Dar, then figured she had plenty of time to do that when she got home. “Anyway, everything’s okay, I got my Pluto, and we’ll be back tonight.”

“Your folks really bad?” Colleen asked, knowing the answer.

Kerry was quiet for a moment, then she exhaled. “Yeah.”

“Sweet Jesus, Ker. Sorry you had to be there all by yourself. I was thinking of you.”

“It was all right. Dar kind of figured out what was going on, and patted me on the head, and all that.” Kerry assured her. “Listen, I gotta go and get ready for this meeting. Talk to you tonight?”

“Right. See you then, girlie.”

Colleen hung up and Kerry did likewise, but she sat there for a long moment on her unused bed, deep in thought.

IT WAS THAT stupid dream again. Dar shook herself out of it, waking to find the sun streaming into the room, and herself alone in the bed. The feeling of loss and disappointment was almost palpable, and she rolled over, curling up and hugging her pillow to her until she got a handle on it, and the feeling faded back.

It had been so damn real this time. Some little cabin somewhere—must have been up north, because a cool breeze was coming in—and she had been just curled up in the early dawn, her arms wrapped around another sleeping form. She remembered a feeling of lazy happiness and a faint tingle of expectation, as though for some reason she’d been waiting for the day to begin.