Erica Orloff - The Golden Girl

After they had sent the last student home, straightened the desks, shut down all the computers and tidied the room, John said, “Maddie, you’re an angel, you really are. You never say why you do this, really, but I’m just grateful you make it here each Monday. I couldn’t do this without you. One of me…twenty-five of them. Not a great ratio.” He laughed, pulling on a leather jacket. “Um…want to go for a drink?…I mean…I’m sorry. I don’t even know if you have plans. Or a boyfriend.” He looked at her intently.

“Drinks would be great.” Finally, she thought. Okay the timing wasn’t perfect, but she’d felt something between them for months.

He broke out into an easy grin. “I know the best Tex-Mex place about five blocks from here. Margaritas sound okay?”

“They sound better than okay.” Hell, she needed a respite from this last week.

“I was hoping you’d say yes,” he said sheepishly, pulling a spare helmet out of his storage closet. “I didn’t want to assume, but I brought a helmet. Mind if we take my ride?”

She shook her head and reached up into her hair and pulled out the bobby pins holding her chignon in place. Her hair fell to about three inches below her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it and thought she heard him sigh—a good kind of sigh.

They walked out to the faculty parking lot, climbed on his bike and headed the few blocks to the Tex-Mex place called Tequila Sunrise. Riding there, her teeth chattered a bit, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, the vibrations of the Harley, or from gripping him tightly, her hands on his taut stomach, her thighs against his thighs.

She could tell he was a bit of a daredevil—and he liked speed as much as she did. The motorcycle weaved in and out of traffic, the wind whipping her face, and she quickly learned to lean when he leaned, and to become one with the bike—and the driver.

Over drinks, she was amazed at how easily they laughed and talked. She was able to keep steering the conversation to the world at large and away from anything too personal. If he asked her something, like, “What are your parents like?” she didn’t lie, but she did commit the sin of omission.

“Oh…they divorced when I was about twelve. It was very bitter. I shuttled between their apartments.”

Of course, she left out, “You might have read all the gory details on the front page of the papers. Including how my monthly child support was more than the average teacher’s yearly salary.” She wasn’t ashamed of her wealth—heaven knows she now worked hard enough for it—as did her father—and gave enough of it away. But she feared John would be intimidated by her background, and until he got to know her better, she felt it best to keep him a little in the dark. The photo the newspapers sometimes used was so formal, it barely looked like her—and she didn’t tell him her last name was Pruitt. She was simply Madison Taylor.

After drinks, he asked if he could drive her all the way home.

“Oh…no. That’s all right, really. I was going to take the subway home.”

“At this hour? Not safe, Maddie.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“At least let me hail you a cab and give you cab fare.”

“No…really. I ride the subways all the time.”

John had signaled the waitress for the bill and paid it.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

“How about a compromise? I’ll take a cab, but I’ll pay for it. You already got drinks.”

He hesitated but finally nodded.

Outside the restaurant, they walked back to his Harley.

“It’s a beautiful motorcycle.” It was—black and lots of chrome.

“It’s impractical in the city in a lot of ways, but I love to take it upstate, riding in the mountains. Maybe I can take you some Sunday.”

“I’d like that.”

“Maddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What would you say to dinner on Friday?”

Friday was actually a board meeting, and she knew she’d be working even later than usual at the office. Plus, she wasn’t quite sure how to juggle undercover work with regular work—with volunteering and now a date.

“Um…I have to work late. How about Saturday?”

“Great.”

They looked at each other, an awkward moment passing between them. Then John leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Next thing Maddie knew, she was kissing him back, hungrily. The months and months of exchanged glances and brushing up against each other culminated like an explosion. He had his hands in her hair, gripping her to him, almost making her wince—she was still so bruised from her ordeal.

She bit at his lip sexily, eliciting a moan from him.

“Maddie…” he breathed. “I’ve thought about this for a long time.”

“Me, too,” she murmured.

“I’ve been through so much in my life…and I’ve kept to myself for so long. I live like a hermit, just…keeping to my mission with the kids, telling myself the right girl is out there somewhere, but not to focus on it. But man…I ache for you.”

Maddie felt her legs buckle a tiny bit. Great, she mused. I can take down a two-hundred-twenty-five-pound CIA agent but this guy gets me knock-kneed and tongue-tied.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time either, John. I’m married to my job.”

This was true. God, Maddie thought, it had been eight months since her last lover, and that had been a disaster. The guy had been too competitive and her greater success was more than he could handle.

“I don’t even know what you do exactly.”

“Real estate. I try to put together land and development deals. It’s really boring, John.”

Okay, so it was a little white lie.

“Can I pick you up Saturday? You can’t come all the way here. We’ll go out in your neck of the woods. Give me your address, and I’ll come get you.”

“My apartment is undergoing renovation. Why don’t we meet here? I liked it. And it looked like a nice dinner menu.”

“You sure? It’s not too fancy.”

“I’m more interested in you than being taken to some ridiculously overpriced place.” Where I might run into Rubi Cho anyway!

“All right, angel eyes.” He kissed her again, and they stood on the street holding each other for a few minutes. Then he hailed her a cab.

After he had shut the door and the cab pulled away, Maddie gave the driver her address. She was still out of breath and turned on. Then her cooler head prevailed. She pulled out her cell phone. She’d had seventeen calls. She started returning them, and then, rather than going home after all, she told the driver to drop her off at the office. It was time for a pot of coffee and a very late night.

Chapter 6

The office was quiet. Of course, there was plenty of security to get inside the building, let alone the elevator. Still though ordinarily she loved the quiet, tonight it gave her the creeps. She walked silent halls, only the distant whirring of the cleaning crews vacuuming providing any noise.

A few lights in cubicles told her some staff remained. Madison sort of wished chatty Mike Kelly was still at work—he was the department’s one-man entertainment unit. But he was in L.A. on business. She’d feel a lot better when Troy officially started on Wednesday.

Maddie settled into her office. She picked up her telephone. Forty-nine voice mails. Forty-nine! She decided voice-and e-mail were the bane of her existence. She began listening. There was a sweet message from Ryan Greene extending his condolences on Claire. Two messages from Claire’s mother saying she wanted Madison to have a few of Claire’s things. And a message from Charlie checking on her. One from Marcus—same thing. Knowing them, they’d keep calling until she checked in, so she called each of them and said she was working late and would be fine.