Tropical Storm

Chapter Eleven

KERRY ENTERED THE conference room and gave a smiling nod to the assembled group as she slipped into a chair halfway down the table. It was the first meeting she was going to attend without Dar’s comforting presence by her side, and she was a little nervous. She put her PDA down on the table and glanced around, folding her hands together.

The meeting was to coordinate a project to replace the current technology they were using for their huge intranetwork with a more advanced type, and that affected virtually everyone in the company. Dar had meant to attend, but she was in the middle of straightening out a huge problem affecting the entire West Coast and had told Kerry to just go on, take notes, and not to agree to anything.

Easy enough. She was a little worried about Dar, though. The morning had started out fine, but after she’d taken care of the day’s urgent morning e-mail, she’d stopped by to check on something and found her boss standing by her window, staring out at the water with a grim expression. Something was bothering her. Even after only two weeks, Kerry could see it plainly. Dar had given her brief answers, a dismissive attitude that had surprisingly hurt. But there was this meeting, and they had work to do, so there was no time for her to ask any more questions.

So she sat here, instead, worrying about someone she barely knew and sitting in a meeting she was barely prepared for. Kerry sighed. Good thing it’s Friday. She glanced up as a tall, bearded man stepped to the head of the table and sat down, shuffling some papers in front of him, then looking at her with an unpleasant frown.

“Do I understand we’re not deemed important enough for Ms. Roberts to be here?”

Kerry bit her tongue for a minute, then cleared her throat. “Actually, she’s cleaning up a mess out in the western region. She asked me to sit in for her.”

The younger man sitting next to him winced. “Ouch. The Pacific deal?”

Kerry nodded. “She forced Unisys to ship those mainframes a week early, and she was pushing some of the folks out there to get a team out for install.”

The bearded man didn’t look any happier, but he grunted and focused his attention on his papers. “Well, all right, let’s get started with this.” He glanced at his neighbor. “You have a technology presentation?”

Kerry settled in, opening her PDA and scribbling a few notes as the lights dimmed and a circuit diagram flashed on the screen.

Tropical Storm 115

DAR TOOK A sip of the water on her desk and focused her attention on the woman sitting in front of her desk. The Marketing VP was busy outlining a new scheme and wanted Dar’s input on whether or not their current infrastructure would be able to handle it. She took a breath and swallowed, forcing down the nausea that had added itself to her daily headache, today’s being worse than usual, so bad that she suspected what she was suffering was actually a migraine.

It had started with a spell of tunnel vision, the edges of her sight becoming a whirling, sparkling blurriness. The pain had started at the base of her skull and was working upward, the throbbing so bad it was making her stomach upset. The Marketing VP’s voice wasn’t helping. Eleanor had an unfortunate nasal voice, and Dar felt herself losing her concentration, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a dark place and tune the world out.

But she couldn’t. There was too much to do, so she grimly sucked down more water, calculating whether she could risk downing another four or five ibuprofen. “Looks good, Eleanor. We can work out the bandwidth, but I’d write in the overhead for additional T3s into those contracts.”

The woman scribbled a note, nodding. “Yes, we can do that.”

The phone rang, and Dar punched the speakerphone button. “Yes?”

“Dar, we’ve got a problem.” Mark’s voice was irritated. “T and T

requested Internet access for some of their senior techs, and they’ve got an open TCP/IP stack on their boxes. I can proxy them, but there’s a chance someone can get into them from that damn intranet they support and hit us from the inside.”

“Fine. No,” Dar uttered, resting her head on her hand. “Tell T and T

nothing doing.”

“I did,” Mark replied. “But Alai’s complaining up and down the place and chewing my ass.”

Dar took a breath and released it. “Tell him I said no,” she answered evenly. “Tell him if he has a problem with that, he can call me directly and I’ll tell his little, punky, unintelligible ass no.”

Momentary silence. “Okay,” Mark answered slowly, drawing out the word.

“And you can tell him from me, if he’s so stupid he can’t understand a simple concept like network security, we can find him a new position painting stripes outside in the parking lot of the Bank of New Zealand,” Dar continued, her voice deepening into a growl.

Longer silence. “I think I’ll let you tell him that,” the MIS chief finally replied with a hesitant chuckle. “I don’t want to deprive you of the pleasure.”

The throbbing got worse, and Dar suspected she was near throwing up, the very thought of which made her head hurt even more. “Thanks.” She hung up, then looked at Eleanor “Are we done?”

The woman blinked at her. “You all right, Dar?” she politely inquired.

“Not that you usually aren’t in a foul mood, but this seems a bit much, even for you.”

Blue eyes pinned her mercilessly. “Are we done?” Dar repeated testily.

The woman stood and shook her head. “Yes. Have a nice…weekend, Dar.” She paused. “Or whatever.” She walked out, closing the door behind her 116 Melissa Good with an unnecessary force and gave Maria a look. “She’s got a bug up her ass today, doesn’t she?” Her eyes fell on Kerry, who had just entered the office and was now standing near the secretary’s desk. “Oh, sorry, honey, you’re still kinda new, aren’t you? Haven’t gotten sick of her yet? My god, you’ve lasted six times as long as the others. You must be some kind of saint.”

Kerry gazed at her. “I like my job, and my boss,” she replied mildly. As the woman just shook her head and walked out, Kerry turned her attention back to Maria. “She has been pretty upset all day; is something up?”

Maria shrugged. “I tell you…something is wrong, but she won’t say.”

The secretary lowered her voice. “I worry. She got a call from the doctor today, early this morning. She’s been so quiet since.” She nudged Kerry. “You better go in, she was asking where you were.”

“Okay.” Kerry sighed, then picked up her offering of coffee and gently tapped on the door, pushing it open as she heard the low response. She entered to find Dar seated behind her desk, her arms resting on its surface.

“Hey, you looking for me?” As she moved closer, she noticed the pale tinge to her boss’s normally tanned skin and she set the coffee down, peering at the taller woman in concern.

“Yeah. “ Dar exhaled. “Um…those contracts, the ones Duks wanted reviewed. Did you take them? I can’t seem to find them.” She rested her head on one hand, her eyes closing briefly. “Thought I had them in the bin there.”

“Dar?” Kerry circled behind the desk and knelt at her side, putting a hand on her arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dar’s brows creased. “Yeah, I’ve just got a lousy headache,” she admitted. “It’s driving me nuts.”

“You look terrible.” Kerry leaned closer. “Why don’t you lie down on the couch?”

“Just…” The older woman drew herself up, taking a long breath. “I’m all right. I need to find those contracts, I told Duks I’d get them back to him this afternoon.”

Kerry studied her for a moment. “I was reviewing them, but I thought I brought them back. Let me check my office. I’ll see if I can find them.”

Dar nodded and let her head rest on one hand again. “Good enough.”

Kerry walked toward the small door which led to the back corridor between their offices, then stopped and turned, taking her courage in both hands and returning to the desk. “Dar?”

Blue eyes glanced up at her in minor annoyance. “What?”

Kerry perched on the edge of the polished wood. “Um…listen, why don’t you go home?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kerry,” Dar said testily. “There’s noth…” She clamped her jaw down tight, as her stomach threatened to rebel and closed her eyes. “Damn it.”

“Dar?” Kerry’s voice took on a cajoling softness. “Come on, let me take you home, okay? You can lie down. I know you’ll feel better.”

“I can’t.” Dar protested wearily. “There’s too much to do.”

“I’ll do it. Come on, I’ll drop you off, then I’ll come back here and finish stuff up,” Kerry coaxed. “Hey, it’s Friday afternoon. You can get out of here a few hours early, can’t you?”

Tropical Storm 117

Dar stared at her. The sea green eyes warmed and gentled as the blonde woman regarded her, and suddenly Dar just wanted to give in. “Well…”

“C’mon, you’re white as a sheet.” Kerry gave her a worried frown. “Dar, please, I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’d have to run screaming from the building if it did.”

That, at least, made her smile just a little. “All right.” She surrendered, leaning back in her chair and letting her head rest against the cool leather. She kept her eyes closed, listening to Kerry shutting down her computer, and the faint jingle as she captured Dar’s car keys from the top drawer. “Teach me to hire a debating champion, huh?”

“Come on,” Kerry urged quietly. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah, all right.” Dar pushed herself to her feet, then shouldered her laptop and followed as Kerry lead the way across the room and opened the door. She gave Maria a look as the secretary glanced up, startled. “Maria, I’m, um…”

Kerry held up the car keys behind Dar’s back and exchanged worried looks with Maria.

“You’re…offsite at a meeting,” Maria said quietly. “Emergency calls only, ay?” Dar nodded. “That’ll do.”

Their exit was quiet. Kerry was amazed they managed to escape the building without Dar being stopped a half dozen times, but it seemed they picked the right time—everyone else was either in afternoon meetings or still at lunch. She walked with Dar across the lot, wincing herself at the lurid, bright sunlight that seemed all the odder in contrast to the thunderheads building above them. “Looks like it’s going to rain.”

Dar glanced briefly up, then shielded her eyes against the sun. “Oh, that was a bad idea.”

“Sorry.” Kerry put her hand on Dar’s back as they approached the Lexus.

“You should get in before I do something else that dumb.”

“Eh, I’d survive it. How dumb could it be if it’s you?” Dar muttered.

Kerry had to smile at the compliment. She got the executive settled in the passenger seat, then walked around and prudently adjusted the driver’s side to accommodate her lesser inches. “Where do you live, anyway?” she inquired hesitantly.

Dar smiled wearily. “Get on McArthur Causeway and go east. It’s the last light before you go over the final bridge over to the beach.”

Kerry stared at her in confusion. “Dar, that’s the Coast Guard terminal.”

A faint chuckle. “Not quite. It’s a ferry base just to the west of that.” She exhaled. “Place called Fisher Island. You gotta take a boat to go there.”

Kerry slowly put the Lexus into gear and eased out of the parking lot, turning right and heading for the causeway. “Oh,” she mused. “I’ve heard of that.” She shot her companion a worried look. “Do you have something you can take for your headache? I mean, you look like it hurts pretty bad.”

“The island pharmacy is filling a prescription I got yesterday,” Dar answered quietly. “I think this is a migraine. I’ve never had one before, but it’s really lousy.”

“Ouch.” Kerry turned onto the causeway and proceeded east. “I’ve had 118 Melissa Good those a few times. Did it start off with your vision going weird?” A faint nod confirmed her guess. “Stomach ache?” Kerry inquired sympathetically.

Another nod acknowledged that as well. “It’s a migraine.” The blonde made a face. “I usually find a dark place somewhere to sleep it off.”

There was silence for a bit. “How’d the meeting go?” Dar finally asked, as Kerry was turning right into the ferry terminal and proceeding cautiously through the cone-marked lanes. The ferry was just pulling up, so Kerry put the car in Park and considered the question.

“All right, I guess. The guy who chaired it, Michael something, he was really nasty. He had a bad attitude, but the presenter for technology was good.”

“Michael Districa.” Dar nodded. “Hates my guts.” She opened an eye and waved at the security guard, who lifted a hand in response. “Just drive onto the ferry. They’ll tell you when to stop.”

Kerry obeyed, edging the Lexus onto the ramp, then into its assigned lane, where a white-shirted deckhand motioned her. She braked when he held up a hand, then she watched as he carefully chocked the wheels. Once all the cars were loaded, the ramp was raised and the ferry chugged away from the dock. Now she had some time to shift her eyes to the right and study her companion. “How’d Pacific go?”

Dar kept her eyes closed and leaned her head against the doorframe, which was cool from the air conditioning. “Done.” She murmured. “I had to threaten to close a division, but the bastards finally made it out there.”

“Chalk another one up for DR, then.” Kerry smiled, watching as the ferry closed with the island terminal. “They were really worried about that one. I heard Mr. Draefus talking about it on the elevator with that person from Marketing.”

“Mmm.” Dar winced and swallowed hard as her stomach twisted. She was pathetically grateful for Kerry’s driving her home. The way she felt, she’d probably have ended up in Biscayne Bay. “Thanks for making me see reason, by the way.”

Green eyes regarded her warmly as Kerry just barely kept herself from reaching out and squeezing her boss’s arm. “You looked so miserable, I couldn’t stand it.”

A pale blue orb appeared and regarded her curiously. “You couldn’t stand it?”

Kerry took a breath, then released it, unsure of how exactly to explain her comment. She was saved the trouble by the ferry docking, which required her to concentrate on what she was doing. She pulled the Lexus up the ramp, into a welcoming spray of water which rinsed the salt off the car. Then she proceeded down the only road she could see, coming to a T intersection and looking at Dar in question. “Right or left?”

“Right,” Dar replied. “Go to the second inset left turn; the sign says

‘Seaside.’ Drive in, then go into the bay on the end.”

Kerry glanced around curiously. The island featured a small golf course in its center, and the apartments surrounded the perimeter. There wasn’t much car traffic, but she spotted several golf carts whirring along the road, and the trees which surrounded the course isolated the apartments from it.

Tropical Storm 119

She turned where Dar indicated and pulled into a condo complex, which held several clusters of homes, each set at right angles to each other. “Down there?”

She indicated the underground parking.

Dar nodded. “Yeah, first or second spot on the left. Doesn’t matter which one you pick.”

“All right.” Kerry pulled the car into a spot, then set the parking break.

“Here we are.”

“So it seems,” Dar replied wryly. “We didn’t think this out really well, Kerry. If you give me a chance to swallow a few pills, and let this die down, I’ll take you back for your car.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can take a cab, thanks. You’re here because you don’t feel well, remember?” She opened the door and hopped out, literally.

“Damn, this is a high car. Listen, I’ll just get you settled, then get out of here and out of your way.”

Dar dragged herself upright and got out, leaning against the car as she closed the door and breathed in the fresh ocean breeze with a sense of mild relief. She led the way up to her door, plucking the package hanging from her mailbox off and glancing at it. “Ah, the drugs. Good.”

“They deliver it here?” Kerry was looking around, her fingers trailing against the thick stonework. She followed at Dar’s back as the taller woman unlocked the door and pushed it open, a waft of cleanly scented air hitting her in the face.

She walked into a spacious room with a vaulted ceiling. The immediate impression she got was of cool, clean openness, with eggshell-colored walls, two dark leather sofas, and marble floors. Her attention was immediately captured by the huge framed print over the couch, a planetscape in dark, vivid, vibrant colors which seemed to jump out a her in the low light. “Wow.”

Dar turned with a puzzled expression, then managed a smile. “You really didn’t expect wooden crate furniture, did you? I thought I gave a better impression than that.”

Kerry walked over to the picture and stared at it. “That’s amazing.”

Dar continued toward the kitchen. “Thanks. There’s an artist who does those. He makes that spidery tracework with live electricity.”

“What?” Kerry caught up with her as she reached the doorway and entered the huge kitchen. “Whoa!” she yelped, turning in a circle and taking in the square room, with its neatly kept appliances. “You could fit my car in here.” She laughed. “I thought my mother’s kitchen was big.”

Dar took a glass from the cabinet and opened the refrigerator door, pouring milk into it from the dispenser, then ripping open her medication bag impatiently. “If you wait for this stuff to work, I’ll give you the nickel tour.”

She got the bottle open and checked the dosage, taking two pills out and popping them in her mouth, followed by a swallow of milk. “Hope I can keep those down.” She grimaced, leaning against the counter as a wave of pain tightened around her skull.

Kerry gently took hold of her companion’s elbow. “Come on. Which way is your bedroom?”

Dar took a steadying breath and straightened up. “I can make it, thanks.”

The warmth around her arm disappeared, and she pulled her jacket off as she 120 Melissa Good made her way into the bedroom.

It hurt to even take her clothes off. She left them draped over the chair and pulled an old T-shirt over her head, leaning against the wall as the pounding made blood red flashes behind her closed eyes. “Ugh.” She started to go to the door, then paused and grabbed a pair of shorts. “Think. Think, think, damn it.” It had been a long time since she’d had anyone else in the condo who’d care what she was wearing, hadn’t it?

“Hey,” she called out to Kerry, who poked her head in the room. “Listen, I…I think I’d better lie down until this stuff kicks in.” She leaned against the jamb, watching Kerry’s face. “There’s a terminal in the study, if you wanted to finish up that stuff.”

Kerry studied the perceptibly swaying woman and sighed. She stepped forward again and put a hand on her arm. “Come on, don’t worry about me.

Let’s get you settled.”

Dar didn’t resist the touch this time. She let herself be guided over to the waterbed and sank down into it. “Oh, man.” She curled onto her side, clamping her jaw down on another wave of nausea. The pain tightened again and she wrapped an arm over her head, finding it hard to breathe, it hurt so much.

“Here. Roll over.” The voice was quiet and familiar and she obeyed, feeling hands gently probing at the ache in her neck. The warmth of the touch was startling, and she inhaled sharply as the strong fingers worked at the tight muscles across her back. It was an intrusion she had no interest in protesting, and she wasn’t sure at all where it was all going except that it had been so very long since she’d known this kind of compassion, and it felt wonderful.

“Easy…wow, that’s really tight. Hold on.” Kerry worked at the tense shoulders, feeling uncertain and very awkward. Dar’s skin felt nice and warm through the soft cotton of her shirt, and she was uncomfortably aware of just how inappropriate this all was. She was also uncomfortably aware of how much she was enjoying it. But Dar wasn’t protesting. In fact, she buried her face into the crook of her arm and exhaled, groaning a little under her breath.

Definitely not protesting.

It took a while before she could feel the knots release under her fingers, and by that time, Dar was edging towards sleep. Kerry stopped her massaging and removed one hand, but kept the other there, making gentle circles with just her fingertips, which only stopped when she realized Dar was deeply asleep, her breathing steady and even.

She withdrew her touch, then stood and backed out of the room quietly, not stopping until she was in the center of the living room, where she let out a long-held breath. “Whew.” She ran a slightly shaking hand through her hair.

“Okay, okay, just settle down, Kerry. It’s over now, she’s all right. Just relax.”

Jesus. She folded her arms across her chest and tried to sort out the churning emotions she felt inside. “Okay,” she finally murmured to herself,

“you did the woman a favor, so just chill.” Just a favor, like anyone would do.

For a friend. Kerry tipped her head back and studied the plaster-swirled vaulted ceiling, breathing deep and slow, as she’d once taught herself to do before a big debate, to steady down her nerves.

It worked. Curious now, she looked around, taking in the apartment with Tropical Storm 121

an appreciative eye. “So this is where you live, huh?” She wandered around the large room, examining the soft leather of the couch. “Ooo, bet that’s comfortable to sit on.” She stepped up into the dining room and went to the windows, which were covered with slatted blinds. She lifted a blind up to expose the ocean view and sighed. “Man, that’s nice.”

From there, she wandered into the kitchen, peering at the appliances, which showed little use, and the center food prep island, which showed even less. “You don’t spend much time in here, do you?” She peeked inside the refrigerator and shook her head. “Good grief, Dar. Do you expect me to believe you live on milk, chocolate chip cookies, and, ” she opened the freezer,

“frozen pizza?” She slapped her head in disbelief. “I’m not seeing this.” She looked again. “Oh, excuse me…and ice cream.”

She left the sadly ill-stocked kitchen and made another circuit around the living room. A door led off to the right, and she poked her head in, seeing a large desk complete with computer. “Ah, the study.” She glanced up the stairs curiously, then trotted up the carpeted steps, finding three rooms and two bathrooms there, one bedroom apparently meant to be the master bedroom from its size, and a wraparound balcony open to the sea. She wondered why Dar chose to sleep downstairs, then figured it was probably just easier for her to deal with one level, since she...

Kerry looked around again, then went downstairs and took in the quiet living room. Since she lived here alone. Her eyes flicked to the entertainment center, then to the living room table, and she realized that other than the large picture above the couch, there was nothing personal in the room. No pictures.

No clothes scattered around. No diplomas or quirky, knick-knack items.

Nothing. It was as though the enigmatic woman who lived here was just visiting, afraid to put a personal stamp on the place.

Kerry thought about that as she wandered into the study and sat down at the large, polished desk. And found at last, a small, framed photograph, which she picked up and brought closer. In it was a younger Dar, dressed in a white karate outfit, one hand resting on a tall trophy, the other arm wrapped around an older man who was grinning proudly at the camera and pointing to her. His bearded face was strongly reminiscent of Dar’s, and his eyes were the same pale blue. She turned the picture over and read the words penciled on the back. “Two of a kind. 1990.”

“Hmm.” Kerry carefully put the photo back down, then considered what to do. She could just leave—Dar was sleeping, there was no longer a need for her to hang around here. The phone was there, she could call a cab. On the other hand, Dar had sort of said it was okay for her to stay, by telling her where the desk was, and kind of assuming she’d do something with it. On a third hand, the prescription had said to take one pill, and Dar had taken two, and wasn’t it dangerous to leave someone sleeping like that?

Two hands to one. Kerry gave a brisk nod, and flipped on the computer.

“I can finish up everything from here. In fact…” Her eyes found the HP

Laserjet 4Si tucked against one side of the desk. “Heck, I can even reprint those dumb reports.”

Satisfied, she waited for the machine to boot, then logged in with her own logon. The system hesitated for quite a while, then obediently gave up her 122 Melissa Good personal menu. She signed into a terminal session, then got to work.

IT HAD TO be a dream, Dar fuzzily realized. She was in a large, open field, with the buzz of crickets all around her, and only the hiss of the wind beyond that. No traffic sounds, no airplanes—just this awesome, beautiful silence that filled her soul with peace. She was lying down with her eyes closed, absorbing the sunlight, and enjoying the soft, cool breeze that stirred the stalks of grass around her. She was naked, but that didn’t bother her, and she could feel the solid, warm weight of another human being draped over her, softly breathing against the skin of her neck. It was peaceful. She was happy and contented. It was perfect.

And, as dreams do, it slowly faded, allowing the real world to nudge at her, and she reluctantly obeyed, dragging her consciousness back to the present, which forced her to open her eyes and see the soft light of her bedside clock, which told her it was eight o’clock and very dark.

Dark, she realized, as her ears caught a howl of wind and the patter of rain against the window, and stormy. She rolled slowly over, gingerly moving her head, relieved at the lack of pain. Her mouth felt dry, and she blinked at the ceiling, then stiffened as her subliminal senses made her aware that she was not alone in the apartment.

Then she remembered. “Ah.” A faint, worried frown edged her face, and she blearily remembered Kerry’s gentle touch on her as she went to sleep. For some reason, that called up the memory of her dream, and she shoved it back in irritation. Aw, chill out, Dar. The kid was just trying to help. She was probably uncomfortable as hell doing that, so remember to thank her.

For a moment she paused in thought, acknowledging the fact that she was glad Kerry was still there. Then she sighed and smiled a little ruefully.

“Ah, Dar, what have you done this time, hmm?”

She rolled out of bed with a yawn and trudged to the bathroom, blinking at her disheveled look with a scowl. She raked her fingers through her hair to order it a little, then gave up and walked quietly into the living room, where she stopped suddenly. A faint smile touched her lips as she surveyed Kerry’s sleeping form, tucked into the corner of one of the couches, her hand resting on a pile of papers. Her head was resting on the soft, padded arm, and she’d thrown her jacket over her shoulders for warmth. Asleep, her face was open and innocent as a child’s, and Dar felt an irresistible affection brewing in her for the young woman. Silently, she padded back into the bedroom and pulled a soft blanket from the closet, returning to settle it gently over Kerry before she continued into the kitchen.

The weather was lashing against the seaside windows, and Dar glanced out, surprised to see whitecaps traveling up and down the usually calm coastline. The barely visible buoys were bobbing right and left, their red and green signals waving wildly over the sea’s surface. “Huh.” She reached behind her and turned on the small, cabinet-mounted television, flipping through the channels rapidly. “Let’s see. Sensational local news, must be Channel Seven.” Seeing a weather map and a concerned-looking badly toupée’d weatherman, she gave the changer a rest. “Uh oh.” She turned up the Tropical Storm 123

sound a little.

“Rising suddenly in the straits of Florida, the low that had settled just north of Cuba has intensified, and a hurricane hunter plane from NOAA confirms a center of circulation and tropical storm force winds.”

“Goddamnpieceofcrapstupid— It’s November, damn it!”

“The National Weather Service in Miami has issued tropical storm warnings for the entire southern coast of Florida, from Cape Sable all the way around up to West Palm Beach. Interests in the area should be making preparations for tropical storm conditions within the next twelve to twenty four hours.”

“Aw, nuts.” Dar sighed in exasperation. “I thought we were over this for this year.” A soft sound behind her made her turn to see Kerry entering the kitchen, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and a puzzled, somewhat concerned look on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

Dar gestured to the television. “Tropical storm.” She exhaled. “Out of nowhere!”

Kerry peered at the screen, then up at her. “What does that mean?”

A dark brow cocked. “Well, for one thing, it means you’re stuck here.”

She picked up the phone and dialed, waiting with drumming fingers until someone picked up. “Hello, Rocky, this is Dar Roberts. What’s going on?” She listened. “I figured. Thanks.” She hung up. “Yep, the ferries are locked down for the duration. Only emergency runs are being made with the boats if people have to get off or on.”

Kerry considered the unexpected development. “Hmm. Sorry. I guess I should have left when I had the chance. I just wanted to get those reports done, then I…I guess I was tired, so I just lay down for a minute…” She gave Dar an apologetic look. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, my head didn’t explode,” Dar said. “And I can move around without wanting to puke, so I guess I’m better.” Her brow creased. “I’d better get candles and flashlights out. No telling how long we might lose power for.”

She stepped to the edge of the window, and pressed a hidden switch. “Better get the shutters down now.”

With a mechanical hum, protective aluminum shutters slid down over the huge, ocean-view windows, clanking down with a rattle and whining to a halt. Dar did the same to the kitchen window, then showed Kerry where the switches were for the other rooms. She left the blonde woman to do that, while she entered the laundry room and pulled out a covered basket, returning to the kitchen and putting it on the island. She opened it and peered down.

Inside were neatly packed flashlights, candles, sterno cans, and other supplies. “Hmph.”

“Okay, all done.” Kerry reported, as she came back into the kitchen.

“What else can I do?”

124 Melissa Good Dar gazed at her, then ducked back into the laundry room and came out, tossing her a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “They’ll be big on you, but a whole lot more comfortable than what you’re wearing if the lights go out,” she explained wryly. “It gets pretty warm in here without air conditioning.”

Kerry had caught the garments and glanced at them, then she gave Dar a wry grin. “Makes sense.” She took the clothing with her into the small half bathroom near the study and quickly changed, stifling a giggle at the ungainly size that made her feel like a child. “Good grief.” She removed the belt from her skirt and belted the long T-shirt, then folded her clothing up and returned to the kitchen in her bare feet. The marble tile felt cold and the terra cotta of the living room wasn’t much better.

Dar was still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and studying the basket. She looked up as Kerry entered, and half grinned at her outfit.

“Definitely big on you.”

Kerry looked down at herself and returned the grin, shrugging her shoulders. “Beats the monkey suit anyway. Thanks.” She went over to the basket. “So, is this a hurricane party?”

The dark-haired woman turned her head and regarded her. “More or less,” she said. “I…there’s canned stuff in the closet for storms. I don’t have much around here otherwise.” She indicated the refrigerator. “I mostly order in from the island restaurants.”

Kerry leaned back on her elbows. “What kind of canned stuff?”

Dar indicated the closet. “I have no idea. I had someone bring an assortment in. I was too busy to do it myself.”

“Uh huh.” Kerry pushed off from the counter and explored the closet.

“Well, I think I can make something interesting out of this.” She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t cook much, do you?”

Dar shook her head. “Not at all. I have cereal for breakfast, and I can make coffee. That’s about it,” she admitted. “Why?”

Kerry sighed, selecting some items and putting them on the counter.

“Well, I’ve gotten myself stuck here in your face, so I might as well make myself useful. “ She went to the refrigerator and studied the contents. “Hmm, I like challenges. Ah…” She pawed in the freezer and retrieved several frosty boxes, which she also set on the counter. “Do you have anything, um, like a pot?”

Silently, Dar pointed to the cupboard. “What are you doing?”

Sea green eyes regarded her in mild amusement. “I’m cooking. I can do that, you know.” She grinned at Dar’s expression. Then she turned to the cabinet. “Let’s see, you said you had cereal.” She opened the door, then turned, and put her hands on her hips. “Dar Roberts, I am not seeing Tony the Tiger in your closet, am I?”

Dar hung her head, then looked up at Kerry through dark lashes with a sheepish grin. “Corn and sugar are two of the food groups, right?” she inquired hopefully. “Let me guess, you do Grape Nuts.”

Kerry glanced around, then tiptoed over to her, and whispered. “Cocoa Krispies, but don’t you tell anyone.”

They shared a conspiratorial grin. Then, unexpectedly, Dar reached out and put a hand on Kerry’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping me out, Kerry. Sorry Tropical Storm 125

it got you stuck here.”

Kerry cocked her head a little, and a gentle smile appeared. “If I helped, then I’m not sorry,” she replied. “Besides, I’d rather be stuck here with you than by myself in this. I hate storms.”

“Fair enough,” Dar answered. “Besides, I learned something new about you.” Kerry’s brows lifted. “You give killer massages.” Dar grinned, catching her by surprise. “Wasn’t on your résumé.”

Unable to suppress a grin of her own, Kerry said, “Glad my skills got put to good use.” They looked at each other in a lengthening silence until Kerry glanced at her culinary selections and cleared her throat. “Right. Well, let me get to it. You must be hungry, I know I am.”

“All right, I’m going to log in and make sure they’re prepping the building,” Dar replied, still gazing at her. “I’ll be in the study if you need anything.”

Green eyes lifted and met hers for a long, searching moment, then dropped away. “Okay. I finished up a bunch of stuff, and I reprinted those reports you were looking for.”

Dar nodded and slipped out of the kitchen, leaving her to her thoughts and the seldom-used range.

THE PAGE ON the screen was surely an important e-mail. Dar ran her eyes over it for the sixth time and still didn’t read it, her thoughts drifting off into some other realm with disgusting ease. Enticing scents from the kitchen kept distracting her, and she tried to remember the last time someone actually cooked something specifically for her, without her paying for it one way or the other.

It had been her father—cooking eggs and bacon, his one and only specialty, on the morning she’d come home to find him saucily sitting in the living room, his freshly pressed fatigues almost blending into her furniture. “Just stopping through,”

he’d said, “on my way out.”

Out to Saudi Arabia, he meant. Out of life was what it had been. Dar glanced at the picture, and felt a hand clench her heart. It wasn’t that they’d even spent that much time with each other over the last several years. It was that he, alone among all the people she’d ever known, had understood her.

Understood the competitiveness, and the fierce will, and the desire to conquer she’d inherited from him—and she had understood him, in all his complexity. His had been the only approval she’d ever needed. When that picture had been taken— her eyes flicked to the frame —he’d strode up after she’d won the tournament, and put his arm around her, and told anyone who cared to listen that “this is my kid.” It had filled her with a sense of belonging that nothing, and no one, had ever equaled. Then he was gone. And she’d sworn at his graveside she would never let anyone touch her heart like that again. Never.

But now, softly, gently, someone was scratching at the door. Someone who was as different from her as anyone she’d ever met. Her mind told her she was crazy to let it happen. Her heart knew she was helpless to prevent it.

The wind rattled against the shutters, sounding like dried bones clattering together. Dar nodded quietly to herself, and this time, read the e-mail.

126 Melissa Good KERRY TOOK A last taste, then gave her creation a satisfied look. She’d managed to find some frozen chicken strips, frozen shrimp, and two packages of frozen snow peas, all of which she stir-fried, adding spices whose seals she had to break. Then she made a sauce with peanut butter, milk, a little sugar, more spices, and some ginger. She’d steamed a pot of rice from the bag in the cupboard and found Dar’s stash of plum wine. “All right…” She took out two plates and washed the dust off them, then went to the study door and peered in.

Dar was studying the screen, the light from it washing her tanned complexion and sparkling off her pale eyes. After a moment, those eyes turned and met hers, and a dark brow edged up in question.

“Dinner’s ready,” Kerry stated.

She got a genuine smile back. “Smells interesting.” Dar stood and stretched, then moved around the desk and followed Kerry into the kitchen like a curious puppy dog. She peered over Kerry’s shoulder at the pot and sniffed appreciatively. “Mmm.”

They carried their plates into the living room and rather than use the big table, settled on the couch in front of the television. Just for the hell of it, Dar had lit a candle and put it in the center of the coffee table, and they ate by the flickering light in addition to the TV screen, which Dar flicked on. Quickdraw McGraw was just winning another battle, and she blushed. “Um…”

Kerry chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I like Space Ghost.” She watched as Dar moved through to the Weather Channel, and left it there as warnings and other information scrolled across the screen. She watched it for a moment, making a mental note to call Colleen and make sure her apartment door was closed tight. “Wow.”

“They make it sound worse than it is.” Dar commented, watching the screen. “See that guy? Idiot. Showing us what the storm’s like. Hope it blows his damn toupee off.” She accepted the plate Kerry handed her, piled with a nice mound of rice covered in stir-fry. “Thanks.”

“Hope you really like spicy.” Kerry bit into a piece.

Dar took a bite and chewed, amazed at the result of what appeared to her to be magic from the ingredients Kerry had found. “Wow.” She eyed her companion. “Anything you can’t do?”

Kerry’s blush was readily visible against her fair hair and lashes. “I really suck at bowling,” she finally said, with a chuckle. “Glad you like it.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. “Migraines really are the worst,”

Kerry commented, after taking a sip of wine to clear her mouth. “Last time I had one, I was in college and it was right before finals. I thought I was going to blow an entire semester.”

“Well.” Dar frowned briefly. “I can live the rest of my life without having another one, that’s for sure.”

“Do you know what triggered it?” Kerry asked. “Mine were usually some food or drink—smoked ham once, in fact.”

Dar didn’t answer, her expression growing thoughtful and a little grim.

“I don’t think it was that,” she remarked finally. “I g…” She hesitated. “I don’t know what it was.”

Kerry watched her from the corner of her eye, a little surprised at the Tropical Storm 127

sudden change of mood. Okay, so we’re stuck here with each other, for I don’t know how long. Something’s bugging her, and she’s a very private person. I should keep my nose out of her business. Right? Right. She ate a few more bites, then eyed Dar’s silent profile. And bowed to the inevitable. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Startled, Dar paused in mid chew and looked up at her. “Talk about what?”

“About whatever it is that’s bothering you,” Kerry replied softly. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but here we are, and I’m a pretty good listener.” She paused, then went on. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know that well.”

Dar chewed slowly and swallowed, considering the offer. Then she took a breath and released it. “It actually is your business,” she said evenly.

“I...won’t be at work on Tuesday. You’ll need to attend the staff meeting for me at ten.” She ate another piece of chicken. Thinking about it for a moment, she finally admitted, “I have to check in to the Miami Heart Institute, they’re running a bunch of tests on me.”

Kerry was at a loss for words. She hadn’t expected this at all.

“Well…they’re just tests. Maybe they won’t find anything, you know?”

“I know what they’re going to find,” Dar replied quietly. “They’re going to find that I have a…malfunctioning valve.” She kept her eyes on her hands, which rested together. “My father had it.” She picked up her fork and took another bite, outwardly very composed.

Kerry took her cue from that. “They can do something about that, right? I know I heard about some stuff they’ve been doing lately; it’s incredible.”

Dar pressed her lips together and nodded an acknowledgment.

“Probably.”

Kerry looked at her. “How can you be so calm? I’d be a nervous wreck.”

A slight shrug. “Nothing I can do about it. I’m going to drive down there early on Tuesday, probably have to stay overnight.”

Good grief! Kerry felt like the world had just upended itself into her lap.

She hardly knew Dar, and yet she was suddenly as concerned for her as she would have been for her own family. Maybe even more so. “Dar?”

“Mmm?”

“I don’t want to go to that staff meeting,” Kerry said. “I’d rather take the day off and go down there with you.”

Dar stared at her in honest surprise. “Why?”

“No one should have to go through that alone,” the blonde replied. “Was that what you found out this morning? You looked like you’d gotten bad news. I thought I screwed something up again.”

With a sputter, the lights went out. They were left staring at each other in the low, golden light of the candle, which painted them in tones of ochre and black. Dar finally dropped her gaze to her plate. “All right,” she agreed softly.

“It’s a long day of mostly waiting. I’d appreciate someone intelligent to talk to.”

Kerry felt a sense of relief. “Sounds like a plan,” she began, then her eyes widened as a gust of wind shook the condo. “Whoa! Dar, are we safe in here?”

“Huh? Oh, sure. I went through Andrew in this place.” Dar waved her fork, her mood improving markedly. “This is just a little tropical storm.”

128 Melissa Good Something slammed against the shutters, and Kerry jumped. “Yow!”

Dar chuckled softly. “Here, come over on this side of me, okay?” They switched places, putting Dar closer to the window. “Better?”

Another bang, and Kerry jumped again, this time right up against her taller companion. “Sorry,” she muttered, drawing away. “I hate storms. We were snowed in for two weeks, once, and I…” She hesitated. “I just don’t like them,” she finished awkwardly.

Dar leaned over and nudged the smaller woman with an elbow. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kerry eyed her and timidly nudged her back. “Easy for you to say.”

They smiled at each other and returned to their plates. Dar was right, Kerry realized. The condo certainly did seem to be getting pretty warm, pretty quickly now that the air conditioning was off. At least she was starting to feel really warm. Maybe it was the chicken.

After they finished, Dar suggested they go into the study, where she’d left the shutters off the north-facing window, a small one, and could open it to get some air in the place. She put a large, faintly cinnamon-scented candle on the desk and sat behind it, while Kerry settled on the small couch against the wall. Dar opened the window and a cool, humid breeze blew in, ruffling her dark hair and stirring the papers on the desk.

It was very quiet, only the wind’s howling and the rattle of the shutters coming through over the ceaseless pounding of the surf outside.

“I guess it was a lot worse during Andrew, huh?” Kerry asked quietly, tucking her legs up under her and leaning on the arm of the couch.

Dar nodded. “Oh yeah. They evacuated the island, but a few of us stayed, along with a few security people. They’d always told us how sturdy these places were, so we stupidly believed them. Surprisingly, it was true. We had very little damage—mostly surf damage to the seawalls, and some boats that got slammed up against the dock because their owners were either too stupid or too lazy to secure them.”

“Mmm.” Kerry put her chin down on her arm. “Do you have a boat here?”

“Yeah. It was my aunt’s; it kind of came with this place.” Dar leaned back in her chair and put her bare feet up on the desk. “Every once in a long while I take it out, just cruise around the artificial reefs a little, do some shallow diving, that kind of thing.”

Kerry nodded slowly. “I like boating. We used to take sailboats, the really big ones, out on Lake Michigan in the summer. I learned to run one of the racing kind. That was a lot of fun.” She considered. “You don’t do much swimming, though, it’s kinda cold up there.” She looked up. “Do you enjoy the diving and stuff?”

“I do. Very much so, in fact.” Dar fiddled with a pencil that had been on the desktop. “It’s not smart to go out by yourself, though, and I…” She hesitated. “I don’t have much time nowadays.”

Kerry soaked it all in, the spoken words and the unspoken ones. “I’ve always wanted to see what that was like. I used to watch the Jacques Cousteau specials all the time and wonder.”

A quick smile chased itself on and off Dar’s face. “We can probably Tropical Storm 129

arrange that,” she commented offhandedly. “It’s beautiful out there, on a nice, sunny day. When it’s calm, the sun filters down through the water, and you can see all kinds of fish, in every color.” She leaned down and pulled open a desk drawer, tugging out a folder and leafing through its contents, then handing it over to Kerry. “Here, see for yourself.”

Kerry got up and perched on the desk, tilting the folder towards the candle to get the light. She poured slowly through the pictures, examining them in fascination. Most were of fantastically shaped coral formations, with clouds of fish over them. Kerry wished it was daylight, so she could see the colors better, but one picture was a huge, flat, striped fish that seemed to be staring right into the camera lens. “Oh, wow!” She looked up at the quietly watching Dar. “Did you take these?”

“Mmm-hmm. Most of them at John Pennekamp Park down in the Keys, but this one…and these two were off Bermuda.” Dar put a fingertip on the striped fish. “He didn’t like me taking his picture. Right after I snapped this, he got right in my face and whacked me with his tail.”

Leaning closer to the light, Kerry peered at the fish. “Mmm. I bet that hurt.”

A hand lifted and gently pushed the blonde hair back. “Careful, don’t want you catching on fire. You can’t imagine the paperwork I’d have to fill out.” “Yikes, you’re right.” Kerry put the endangered locks back behind her ear and smiled. She turned to the next picture, this one of Dar, in a sleek black one-piece swimsuit, a scuba tank propping up one elbow and a huge lobster in her other hand. “Good grief, how much did that thing weigh?”

Dar peered over her arm. “Me or the lobster?” She chuckled. “Ten pounds. It was huge. The damn thing dragged me half across the reef before he tired out and I could bag him.”

“Mmm.” Kerry studied the picture, a faint, curious smile twitching her lips. “Did you have him for dinner?”

“Nah,” Dar cheerfully told her. “That big…well, after four pounds or so, the taste starts to go down. No, I took the picture, then let him go.”

“Oh, I did that too when we went fishing,” Kerry admitted. “It got everyone so mad at me. I’d catch these nice big fish, and the guys would fight them for an hour, finally drag them onboard, and I’d let them go.” She lingered over the photo for a moment more, then went on to the next.

“You have a big family?” Dar asked gently.

Kerry kept her focus on the pictures. “Oh well, not really. My mother and father, of course, and I have a younger brother, Michael, he’s in law school, and a younger sister Angela, who’s married and has one child and another on the way.”

“What’s it like having siblings?”

Kerry felt her chest tighten. “It’s…all right, I guess. There’s always some competition.” She glanced aside. “You don’t have any?”

“No, I always wondered what it would be like. Thought it would be nice to have a sister, or something.” She paused. “Is it?”

Kerry pondered the question. “I can’t really remember not having any,”

she confessed, “so it’s hard to say. We fought like kids do, but I love my 130 Melissa Good brother and sister.” She frowned. “I miss seeing them.”

Dar studied her profile. “Your father’s a senator, huh?”

The blonde head inclined once. “Yes.” Kerry’s jaw almost clicked shut audibly.

Hmm. Dar’s curiosity was sparked. “That must be a little strange.

Everything’s kind of public record, huh?”

Kerry’s eyes fastened on her hands, clenched lightly around the folder.

“More or less, yeah.”

A silence fell, lasting until Dar cleared her throat. “You…want to talk about it?”

Green eyes jerked up and met hers, startled, and a little afraid. The flickering candlelight threw her shadow against the far wall with menacing size, and she studied Dar’s face for an endless moment, before letting her gaze drop to the desk. “Not really, no.”

A little stung, Dar shrugged quietly. “All right.”

Kerry dragged her eyes back up at the words, her jaw working a little. “I, um, I guess that sounds harsh, coming from someone who was asking you to do the same thing just a little while ago, huh?”

“It’s your life,” Dar replied evenly. “You have the right to keep it to yourself.”

The silence settled again, and went on longer. Kerry closed her eyes, and listened to the wind whipping the surf outside, and the trees which slapped against the outer wall. “My parents are very…they have very high expectations of us.” She slipped off the desk and went back to the couch, curling up into a ball against one end of it “They want a certain life for me.”

Dar remained silent, keeping her opinion of both the policy and Kerry’s father to herself. ILS had run headlong into the senator more than once, and he was currently trying to oust them from several government contracts in favor of his own choice, a competitor who was, in all likelihood, paying him off. “That’s a tough thing to deal with,” she said very quietly. “But surely he shouldn’t have any complaint about you.”

A short, bitter laugh. “I’m not married and barefoot in the kitchen with two kids.” Kerry stared at the wall. “I had to pretend to be majoring in something…‘fit for me’ in college. They didn’t want to hear the word ‘career’

at all.”

A realization clicked. “So that explains the English double major,” Dar commented softly.

Kerry glanced at her, surprised, then she rubbed her temples. “I forgot you had my résumé.” She managed a thin smile. “Yes, by the time I graduated, it was too late for them to protest, and I had my degree.” She took a breath. “I took an entry level job with Sperry. God, how they hated that. It was a fight just about every day. The only thing that saved me was that Brian was still going to school.”

Knowing that Kerry had spent some years in the IS field, Dar was puzzled. “What happened?”

A wry, cynical smile crossed the younger woman’s face. “Bill Clinton happened. Or, more specifically, Al Gore happened.” She lifted her chin. “All of a sudden, it was a ‘prudent precaution’ to have someone in the family who Tropical Storm 131

‘knew how those people thought’ and was into the technology end.”

“Ah.” Dar digested that. “But they still give you a hard time,” she hazarded.

“Yeah.” Kerry sighed, resting her chin on her arm.

“Who’s Brian?”

Green eyes lifted to hers. “My theoretical fiancé.”

Both of Dar’s dark brows shot up to her hairline, giving the taller woman almost a comical air of astonishment. After a moment, she schooled her face into a more casual expression. “I…um…huh?”

Kerry sighed. “We grew up together. We’ve been friends forever, since we were in strollers, practically. He’s a really sweet guy, nice looking, just graduating from law school. He likes me…”

“But?”

“But when I look at him, he’s just a friend,” Kerry replied ruefully.

“Ah, no skipping of the heart?” Dar joked gently. “No getting swallowed up in his eyes. That kind of thing?”

Kerry stared at her in silence for a few heartbeats. “N-no,” she finally stammered. “Not… It’s not like that with him…at…at all.” She paused. “What do you mean, skipping of the heart?”

Dar examined her interlaced fingers. “I wouldn’t know personally,” she glanced up with a wry grin, “but I’m told that when you meet your true love, something like that happens.” She chuckled. “You know, um, all that romantic stuff.”

“Mmm. Oh, yeah, right. I’ve heard of that.” Kerry pushed her hair back behind an ear. “God, you were right. It is getting pretty warm in here, isn’t it?” She glanced up to find hooded blue eyes watching her and a slight, almost puzzled little smile on Dar’s face. “So, that’s my story I guess. My folks give me a hard time over living down here. They think it’s decadent and licentious.” She sighed. “When I go home for Christmas, all I hear is plans for the wedding, and where I’ll live, and…”

Dar got up and circled the desk, then crouched down next to her, her features almost wholly in shadow as she blocked the light from the candle.

“You don’t have to do what they want, you know that, right?”

Kerry’s eyes held a quiet, shuttered sorrow. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

She laid her cheek against her forearm. “It’s a lot harder for me to live it.” She blinked a few times. “I feel like I have a responsibility to them.”

Dar sat down and leaned back against the couch, facing away from her younger companion. “I used to believe that, too,” she murmured. “After my father died, I thought my responsibility was taking care of my mother. I was going to give up this job, move to Richmond…”

Kerry gazed at the dark, sleek head inches from her face. Almost hypnotized, she watched her fingers reach out and tangle themselves in an errant lock. “Why didn’t you?” she asked softly.

“She told me she didn’t want anything to do with me.” Dar’s voice was quiet but matter-of-fact. “I reminded her too much of what she’d lost.” Feeling a slight tug on her hair, she turned her head and glanced at Kerry. “That’s when I figured out the only person I was ever going to be responsible for was myself.” She held the younger woman’s eyes. “Follow your heart, Kerry, don’t 132 Melissa Good live for someone else’s dreams.”

It was the closest they’d ever been to each other, mere inches separating them, so close they were breathing the same air. So close Kerry could see the faint, almost invisible scar just above Dar’s right eye, and the crystal clarity—

even in the low light—of her pale blue irises. She became aware of a sound that she only later realized was her own heartbeat, hammering in her ears in irregular rhythm. “I-I’ll try to…to keep that in mind,” she stuttered.

Dar turned her eyes towards the door and broke the tension. “Can I interest you in more of that peanut stuff?”

Kerry swallowed a few times. “Um, sure. They were small plates.”

They exchanged wry glances then laughed in thinly veiled relief.

DAR LEANED HER head out of the window, studying the worsening weather. The trees outside were almost obscured by rain, and the wind was pulling branches from them, slapping the leaves against the building and leaving dark green streaks against the wall’s surface.

A wet, cool breeze blew her hair back, and she turned her face into it for some relief. She’d opened a window on the opposite side of the apartment to get a cross-breeze, but it was still very stuffy inside, and scarfing down the spicy stir fry hadn’t helped matters. Dar glanced behind her to where Kerry was lying on the floor, her hands folded over her slim waist and her eyes closed. Even from where she was, in the flickering light Dar could see the sheen of sweat on the younger woman’s face, and she felt a twinge of sympathy as a droplet trickled down from her own temple.

It was well past midnight, but sleeping was almost impossible, at least for Dar, who was used to the air-conditioned peace of her water bed-equipped room. She enjoyed her comforts and didn’t mind admitting that—roughing it in the outdoors with bugs and snakes was not her idea of a good time. With a sigh, she rested her chin on the windowsill, and put up with the soft mist of water which drenched her skin.

Still, she was glad Kerry was there. She was getting to feel comfortable with her, too—a slow, insidious relaxation of her usually very stiff and very prickly outer shell, that she was only half-heartedly trying to stop.

“Anything interesting out there?” Kerry’s voice floated up softly.

“Rain and wind,” Dar replied in a mumble. “It’s just a little cooler, though.” She felt a warmth at her back, and instinctively moved over to make room as Kerry sidled up next to her, poking her nose out into the darkness.

“See?”

Kerry hitched herself up and leaned out, shaking her blonde head as rain dripped on it. “God, you can’t see a thing…not even lights from the city.” She tipped further forward and felt a sudden, warm pressure against her back as Dar stuck a hand out to make sure she didn’t fall over. Despite her overheated state, it felt good, a comfortingly safe sensation that made her bold enough to lean out a little further, to see what she could see.

“Hey, careful,” Dar warned, moving a little closer just in case she was needed. Kerry now had her entire head out in the rain, and she was peering around with interest. The wind was blowing her dampened hair back and she Tropical Storm 133

looked, for a moment, very much like a cocker spaniel enjoying a drive.

“Wow, look at those palm trees, Dar!” Kerry lifted one hand and pointed, then grabbed the sill again. “They’re almost going sideways!”

“You’re almost going sideways,” Dar protested, tucking her arm securely around Kerry’s waist and leaning out on one elbow. “Oh yeah, I see them.

Hey, watch it!” She pulled herself backwards, dragging Kerry with her as a coconut slammed against the windowsill, leaving a brown scuff. She could feel laughter under her tensed arm, and she released her companion with a belated start. “You could have gotten beaned in the head, Kerry!”

“What a great story that would have made.” Kerry giggled. “Can you imagine? I come in Monday with a bandage on my head, and have to tell everyone I got smacked by a flying coconut whizzing by your window.”

Dar chuckled in reaction. “That would be a little hard to explain,” she admitted. “This freak storm’s going to be hard enough to recover from—Mark had to spend six hours just doing unplanned backups, not to mention transferring operations up to Charlotte.”

Kerry shook herself rapidly, scattering droplets of water all over Dar and the carpet. “Oh.” She lifted a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry, Dar.”

The older woman started laughing. “You’re more fun than a puppy, you know that?” She shook her head and went to a closet just outside the study, coming back with a fluffy, pale blue towel and handing it to her. “Here.”

The towel was soft, and smelled freshly laundered. Kerry buried her face in it, then dried herself off with quiet contentment. She looked up at Dar from under damp eyelashes and even damper bangs. “More fun than a puppy, huh?” There was, she was alert enough to recognize, definitely some chemistry going on between them. A dynamic, shifting feeling that was half playfulness and half something deeper, more serious.

Dar was her boss. She knew she couldn’t forget that. But she also knew the tall, dark-haired woman was becoming a friend, and she had no intention of putting a stop to that either. Dar was too interesting, too complex a challenge for her to pass up. She wanted to know more about her, to know why she did what she did. So many people were shallow, so easy for Kerry to read that they were almost boring. Dar…fascinated her. Just being around the woman, she felt a thrill of adventure.

Kerry liked that. Just like she adored roller coasters, and fast racing boats, and steep downhill skiing. She glanced up at Dar through her bangs and grinned. Then she barked like a dog.

Dar just put a hand over her eyes and laughed. “I think this weather’s bringing out an unexpected side to you.” She picked up the candle and motioned Kerry towards the door. “C’mon, no sense in letting a perfectly good half gallon of ice cream melt.”

“Ice cream?” Kerry finished toweling herself off and let the terrycloth drape around her neck as she followed Dar into the dark living room. “Let me guess…another of your food groups?” Following the candle, she padded into the kitchen and stopped just short of crashing into her companion. Dar had opened the still, quiet freezer and pulled something out, bringing a wave of icy cold air with it. “Ooo, can we just climb in there?”

134 Melissa Good

“No.” Dar closed the door and felt around in a nearby drawer, retrieving two spoons. “Here, hold this.” She handed Kerry the candle and gave her a nudge back towards the study. “Espresso chip, it’s great.”

They put the container on the floor and sat down on the carpet facing each other, armed with their spoons. Dar took the first spoonful and sucked on it happily.

Kerry put a bit on her spoon and tasted it, then grinned. “Ooo.” They shared in silence for a few moments, then Kerry shifted a little, resting her elbows on her knees. “So, um, the picture up there. Is that a karate kind of thing you were doing?”

“Tae kwan do,” Dar replied offhandedly. “Yeah.”

Green eyes studied her curiously. “You still do it?”

Dar took another spoonful before she answered. “Yes, among other things. I tried out a few different disciplines. I mostly keep to that, with a little judo and jujitsu mixed in.” She chuckled. “They’re old-fashioned and not the trendy stuff, but I like the traditions.”

“Must take a lot of practice. My brother was involved in that for a few years. He got up to a…” Kerry thought, “…a brown belt, but he stopped doing it for a year, then tried to go back, didn’t work.”

“Most every night, I meet a trainer over at the island gym. We work for about two hours, depends on what’s been going on that day.” A faint smile chased Dar’s lips. “Sometimes I’m more in the mood for the rough stuff.”

“Oh, I get it—stress relief.” Kerry scooped up a spoonful of creamy treat.

“That sounds like a good idea,” she said.

Dar nodded. “Yeah, it is. I get my frustrations out and it’s not so tempting to go over the table at someone in one of those damn meetings.” She studied Kerry quietly. “It helps clear your mind, too, and it comes in handy in places like Miami.” Her eyes twinkled gravely. “You might want to think about picking up a class around your neck of the woods.”

Kerry licked her spoon. “I wanted to, when I was younger. When Mike was taking classes. I begged and begged, but no way, no how would they let me.” She considered that long-ago refusal. “I think I would have been better than he was, too. He’s shorter than I am, and he’s really clumsy.” Her eyes lifted to Dar’s. “It’s a little late for me to be starting that kind of thing. I walk a lot, Rollerblade, that sort of stuff. I used to do aerobics, but I got really bored with it.”

“Not challenging enough?” Dar inquired innocently.

“Eyah, something like that. Actually, I just couldn’t take the instructors. I just wanted to give them wedgies all the time.”

Dar laughed. Horses, water… Ah. “Well, you probably haven’t had a chance to look through the global discounts page yet, but we just got membership benefits at the new gym right across from the office. They’ve got a nice indoor climbing wall and a good selection of classes. I was thinking about switching to that one.”

“Yeah?” Kerry sucked on her spoon, then removed it and looked at it.

“Maybe a gym’s a good idea,” she remarked. “If I took up boxing, maybe I could get away with having a pint of this every day.”

“If you want, I could take you through some of the basics, just to see if Tropical Storm 135

you’re interested in continuing,” Dar commented casually, then she stopped and gazed, unseeing, at the candle. “Once I find out what’s going on Tuesday, I mean.”

Kerry caught the change in mood and she went with her instincts, putting her spoon down and reaching over to curl her fingers over Dar’s hand.

“Everything’s going to be okay; I really believe that, Dar. And I’d love to learn from you.”

Dar nodded. “All right. We’ll start on Wednesday then, okay?” How much difference would it make if she confirmed her fears anyway? She’d lived with the possibility for years, and she’d already made the decision that whatever the results, it wouldn’t change the way she lived her life. That was what her father had chosen. It had, in the end, killed him, but it had been on his terms.

He’d just forgotten how damn hard it would be on everyone else. Well, I don’t have to worry about that. No one depends on me; I’m not responsible for anyone but myself. “C’mon, this is melting.”

Kerry helped finish off the ice cream, then helped Dar drag a couple of blankets in to lay on the floor, where it was the coolest, and they settled in to try and sleep. The fat candle, in its dish in a safe place, shed golden flickering light over them, and long after Dar had dropped off to an uneasy sleep, Kerry sat quietly awake thinking. Watching a profile no longer strange to her outlined in firelight.