Finding Shayla Page 9

  “I love them, too. I don’t need to go anywhere. I just need to be with you.”

  “Thank you, Shayla. That means the world to me.” She was silent for a few minutes. “I don’t suppose you’re ready to tell me more about your ex?”

  Shayla shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been with women who are manipulative and evil, and maybe mentally and emotionally abusive. But I don’t know. I just want to know what he was like.”

  “He was horrible. Mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive. He was controlling and demanding. And nothing I ever did was good enough.”

  Try as she might to keep them in check, the tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Oh, babe. I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intent. I just want to know what I’m up against. As I said before, I never want to trigger you.”

  Shayla wiped away the tears, irritated and frustrated that she’d cried in front of Jazz.

  “I’m broken,” she finally said. “I’m a mess. It will take a lot of work to fix me. But I’m willing to put in the effort.”

  “As am I, sweetheart. As am I.”

  ***

  Cayenne was having a remarkably good time. Farris had a nice house and lovely wife. And exceptional neighbors. She was thoroughly enjoying Karen and Linda. It turned out they’d been together fifteen years. That seemed an eternity to Cayenne. She wondered if she’d ever be able to string another relationship together that lasted more than eight hours.

  The game was an exciting home run contest that the Diamondbacks ended up winning. When it was over, Karen approached Cayenne.

  “We have the hard stuff at our house. Whisky, rum, vodka. Would you care to come over for a night cap?”

  “That would be great. Thank you.”

  She walked with them to their cottage.

  “What’s your poison?” Linda said.

  “Whisky, please.”

  “Ice?”

  “Neat. Thanks.”

  “To carry on from our earlier conversation before we were interrupted, how come we’ve never seen you at any women’s events in Casa Grande?” Karen said.

  How to respond? She didn’t like to do couple things because she wasn’t a couple and had no intentions of becoming one? Or she liked the club because she could always pick someone up there?

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. “For starters, I didn’t know about them. And, well, if the truth be told, I’m not that into coupley things.”

  “Coupley? Is that even a word?” Linda laughed.

  “It is now,” Karen said. “And it’s not all couples. There are plenty of single women there as well. Who knows? You might just meet Ms. Right.”

  “I’m not looking for her. Thanks though. I keep my relationships to one night. Max.”

  “And just where do you find these willing and able participants?” Linda seemed genuinely interested.

  “There’s a women’s bar there. I go there on occasion.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Have y’all never been there?” Cayenne was shocked.

  “No,” Karen said. “I mean, someone might have mentioned it to us at one of the gatherings, but we didn’t pay much attention.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t. Being all happily married and whatnot.”

  Karen and Linda exchanged a look, but Cayenne couldn’t interpret it.

  “Sometimes even the happiest married couples like to add spice to their relationship.” Linda looked at Cayenne pointedly.

  Cayenne understood what she was saying. She was surprised to hear this but didn’t judge. It didn’t matter to her what these two near strangers did.

  “I get what you’re saying,” she said. “Maybe someday the three of us can hit the club together.”

  “That would be fun,” Karen said. “How’s your whisky? Need a top off?”

  “Thanks, but no.” She stood. “I should get going.”

  “What’s the hurry? Have another drink and we’ll play a game or something.”

  “A game? Like what?”

  “Do you like Trivial Pursuit?”

  “I haven’t played that in forever. I’m not very good.”

  “Neither are we,” said Linda. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  Four whiskies and a game of Trivial Pursuit later, Cayenne was in great spirits. She hadn’t laughed that hard in she couldn’t remember how long. Unfortunately, she knew she shouldn’t drive at that point and hoped it would be okay if she crashed on their couch.

  “You know, Cayenne,” Karen said. “You’re very handsome.”

  “Thank you?” Where had that come from?

  “Well, you see,” said Linda. “Since neither of us is particularly butch, we do enjoy a hot butch when we see one.”

  “Well, thanks. I’m happy to provide you with some eye candy to enjoy.”

  “So does that mean we can look but not touch?”

  “Huh?”

  Karen had stood and was behind Cayenne rubbing her shoulders.

  “I love a muscular woman,” she said.

  Part of Cayenne was decidedly uncomfortable. But part of her couldn’t help but react to the feel of Karen’s talented fingers on her neck and shoulders. Who knew? Maybe this night would turn out much differently than she’d anticipated.

  Linda was on her knees rubbing Cayenne’s thighs. Two women? When was the last time she’d treated herself to that? It had been a few years. That was for sure.

  “You’re so strong,” Linda slid her hands under Cayenne’s shorts. “I can feel it in your thighs.”

  “Okay, you two.” Cayenne’s voice shook with need. “Which one do I get to kiss first?”

  Karen started nibbling her neck and Cayenne was throbbing. Linda’s hands kept inching upward on her thighs and every muscle in Cayenne tensed, longing to feel her touch where she needed it most.

  Linda rose off her knees and leaned into Cayenne. She pressed her lips into Cayenne’s who responded with vigor. She kissed Linda hard and deep and soon her head was spinning. Desire coursed through her. Nothing mattered at that moment. Nothing except getting some much needed release. And she was sure these women could provide that for her.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away from Linda and turned in her seat to pull Karen in for a kiss. Karen was a much better kisser than Linda. Not that Linda was bad. But Karen’s tongue maneuvered through her mouth, igniting every spot it hit.

  Cayenne fought the urge to rip her shorts off and bury Linda’s face between her legs. She was ready for action and didn’t want to wait another minute to please and be pleased and experience everything Linda and Karen had to offer.

  Karen pulled away and rested her head on Cayenne’s forehead.

  “Easy there, turbo. We’ve got all night.” Could she read Cayenne’s mind? Her timing was impeccable.

  “The night’s half over,” Cayenne said.

  “You’re right. Of course,” Linda said. “I say we head into the boudoir.”

  “I’m not sure she’s ready,” Karen said.

  “Oh, I’m ready.”

  “Just a minute. What kind of kinks have you enjoyed?” Karen said.

  “Kinks? I don’t really have any, but I’m up for most anything.”

  “Well, we have a few. Nothing hard core mind you.”

  “Okay, well, if I can’t take it, I’ll just let you know.”

  Linda and Karen each took one of Cayenne’s hands and led her to a spare bedroom. It looked like a miniature dungeon. All sorts of torture devices lined the walls. The large bed in the middle looked inviting though. Although Cayenne wasn’t keen on the scarves tied to the posts. She wouldn’t mind being tied up in her own bed, but she didn’t fancy being tied up by two total strangers who might take pictures or worse, leave her there and take her wallet and badge. No, she thought as she fought back from the fog of lust. This wasn’t going to happen.

  “What do you think?” Linda said. “We can use whatever you want.”

  “I
think I need to get going. It’s not that this stuff doesn’t appeal to me, it’s just that I don’t really know you two well enough to allow myself to be treated to any of this.”

  “Seriously?” Karen said. “You know us well enough.”

  “No. No, I really don’t. Look, thanks for a lovely night. I enjoyed it. And, maybe when we know each other better, we’ll be able to play. But, for now, I’m saying good night.”

  She hurried to the door and out into the night air. She took a few deep breaths, then climbed into her car and drove the short distance to her home. Inside, she threw herself on her couch. Damn. That had been close. Who knew what those two would have done to her?

  Sure, she could have been simply paranoid, but it hadn’t felt right. She could have really suffered career wise at the hands of Karen and Linda. They’d seemed nice enough, but what did she know?

  And, damn, but they had her primed. She’d been almost ready to do anything with them. Good thing she came to her senses. Disgusted and still marginally horny, Cayenne went to her own room where there were no torture devices or scarves. She stripped down and climbed into bed.

  One nice thing about the women is they’d taken her mind off of Shayla for a few hours. Even watching baseball, her mind had continuously drifted to Shayla. The Diamondbacks were playing the Dodgers and Cayenne couldn’t help but wonder if Shayla was somewhere in LA, possibly even at the game. She could be living a whole new life. Maybe she’d even changed her name. But Cayenne wasn’t going to give up. She was going to see Shayla stand trial, get off for self-defense, and then who knew? Maybe they’d start yet another new life. Together.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tuesday morning, Shayla was up at five. She ordered room service breakfast and drank two pots of coffee. She was nervous and excited. Her first screen test. She felt like she was back in college trying out for her first part. And look how well that had gone. She only hoped this morning went as well.

  Not knowing what traffic would be like, she took the elevator downstairs at eight fifteen to catch a cab. But as soon as she stepped out of the hotel doors, Jazz’s limo pulled up.

  “Hey, good lookin’. Need a lift?” Jazz looked disheveled but adorable.

  “Oh, wow. This is much nicer than a cab.”

  “I thought you should show up in style. Now, come on. Get in.”

  Jazz scooted over and Shayla got in the car.

  “Thank you so much for the ride,” Shayla said.

  “You’re so welcome. How are you doing? Ready to nail this?”

  “Oh, Jazz. I’m a nervous wreck. I hope I don’t puke all over them.”

  Jazz patted her hand.

  “You won’t. I have the utmost faith in you.”

  Jazz dropped her off at the studio with the promise to pick her up in an hour.

  “What if it only takes five minutes and then he tells me I’m horrible?”

  “That’s not going to happen. Now get in there and knock ’em dead.”

  Feeling less confident than Jazz, Shayla took a deep breath and walked inside the studio. Television was new to her but acting wasn’t. She could do this. She had the talent. She just needed to prove it to them.

  She was shown into a well-appointed waiting room where she filled out reams of paperwork. Mostly they wanted to know about her experience, and she went into great detail so they would know how talented she truly was.

  Shayla felt really good when the screen test was over. She’d been amazing, or so she thought. She wanted to celebrate but knew that would be premature. She saw Jazz’s limo and made herself walk even though she wanted to skip.

  “You look good,” Jazz said. She’d obviously had a shower in the past hour as she was much more put together.

  “I feel good. I think I did really well. Oh, Jazz, what if I get the part?”

  “If you get the part you need to grow thick skin. I can’t show you any preference on the set even if you are my girl.”

  “Your girl?” Shayla’s heart skipped a beat.

  “That’s how I think of you. Is that okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay. I love it.” She hugged Jazz and forgot about everything except the feel of Jazz’s arms around her. She pulled away and looked Jazz in the eye. “Do you often date actresses?”

  “I’ve dated a variety of people. My past isn’t something to write home about. But all I care about now is our present. And our future.”

  Shayla wanted to push for more information, but she didn’t. She was too excited. About the screen test. About her future with Jazz.

  An unwelcome visual popped into her head. Robin lying face down, the back of his head caved in. She shuddered. She needed to forget her past, too. But could she?

  “You okay, babe? You cold? We can turn on the heater.”

  “No. I’m fine. But thank you.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Shayla actually felt nauseous but knew it would pass. It had to.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking an early lunch to celebrate your successful screen test.”

  “Jazz.” Shayla laughed. “We don’t know it was successful yet.”

  “He loved you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “He texted me before you even got to the car.”

  “So do I have the part?” Shayla could hardly believe her ears.

  “I don’t know that. I just know he thought you were wonderful.”

  Shayla sat back against the leather seat.

  “Oh, thank you, Jazz. Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank me. That was all you.”

  The limo stopped in front of an old stone building downtown.

  “It looks like an office building,” Shayla said.

  “Ah yes. But wait until we get to the twelfth floor.”

  Shayla was curious. She got out of the car and held tight to Jazz’s hand as they rode up to the magic floor. When the elevator door opened, an abundance of scents wafted to Shayla’s nose. She smelled spices and meats and onions and garlic. Her stomach growled.

  “What is this magical place?” Shayla said.

  “It’s where you’re going to have the best sandwich of your life. I recommend the Ruben, but anything is good. Do you prefer French Dip? You won’t be disappointed.”

  Shayla laughed.

  “I don’t know what I want. One of everything, maybe?”

  The hostess seated them, and Shayla looked over the menu. There were more combinations of sandwiches than she’d known existed.

  She settled on one and sat back and sipped the champagne Jazz had ordered.

  “Here’s to new beginnings.” Jazz held up her glass. Shayla clinked it and took a sip of the delicious liquid. She could get used to champagne all the time. But she couldn’t think that way.

  Yes, she was enjoying her time with Jazz. Very much. But eventually Jazz would want to get physical and, if her night with Cayenne was an example, Shayla wasn’t ready to be touched. Slow down, she told herself. Jazz hasn’t even kissed you yet.

  But she couldn’t shake the niggling fear that Jazz might be patient. She might wait quite a while for Shayla to be ready. But she wouldn’t wait forever. Who would?

  ***

  Cayenne was in a foul mood Tuesday morning. A drunk had crashed into the old tree in the town square and the townspeople were up in arms. The tree was the oldest living thing in their town and the tree company was saying they’d have to take it down.

  The idiot who’d hit it was found passed out feet from his car. When he was roused, he blew a .20, almost three times the legal limit. The man wasn’t from Lazu and the fact that he was an out of towner just raised the town’s collective blood pressure that much more.

  The phone was ringing off the hook and she was tired of it. She’d just gotten a call to go see the mayor and was on her way out the door when a man came in with a vase of yellow and red roses.

  “What’s this?” Cayenne growled.

  �
��For you, Sheriff.”

  He handed them to her. She set them on her desk. She’d read the card later. She had business to attend to.

  She passed the tree as she parked in front of City Hall. She was disgusted at the man who’d done it. His name was Richard Nemeyer. He was from Phoenix. He was still out cold. She was waiting for him to wake up to question him. She really didn’t have time to be away from the station. But, when the mayor calls…

  Mayor Stewart was in the rotunda waiting for her. He ushered her quickly to his office.

  “People are fuming,” he said. “They want this guy locked up for good. Can you do that? What has he said for himself?”

  “I’m waiting for him to come to,” Cayenne said. “Then I’ll question him. So, may I go back to my office?”

  “Not yet. Look, O’Leary, you’re good at your job. And I appreciate everything you do for this town, but can you handle this? A drunk driver who damaged public property?”

  Cayenne seethed inwardly.

  “We’re doing our part. We’ve arrested him and when he wakes up, I’ll question him. It’s up to you to get a DA who can prosecute. I know the townspeople want him to do time and I’ll arrest him on a felony charge. It’ll be up to you to bring in someone who can make it stick.”

  “Who? Tell me who to get. I want the best.”

  “I don’t know. I’d start with Casa Grande and then go from there.”

  “We need him to rot, O’Leary.”

  “He’ll do time if you can find someone. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “How much time will he do?” Stewart sounded panicked.

  “I don’t know. A year. Maybe a little more. I can’t say, Mayor. He won’t rot, but his life will be ruined.”

  “Oh, that’s good. That’s what I’ll tell people.”

  “Now, can I get back to work?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. Keep me in the loop.”

  “I will.”

  Cayenne turned on her heel and left the office. She was fuming. That could have been handled in a phone call. There’d been no reason to call her to his office just because he could. Stewart grated on her last nerves. He didn’t like her and had never made a secret of that. Damned homophobe.