Sydney Carton, my hero. She opened A Tale of Two Cities to the last page and read the final line. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done Caitlin closed the book and hugged it to her chest. You got a bum deal, Syd.
How many times had she rewritten the ending in her imagination? In her version, Dickenss scoundrel of the French Revolution was rescued at the guillotine by a resourceful American woman. Let Charles Darnay have his sweet, good-girl heroine. Caitlin and Sydney always ended up in a little grass hut on the beach in Tahiti in her happy ending. Sometimes they ended up naked on the beach itself.
Caitlin returned the book to the hanging shelf above the telephone table. Being an English teacher as she was, the symbolism of closing the book on her fantasy life wasnt lost on her. Was it really asking too much for fate to break her out of her rut?
Her gaze traveled down to the table, beyond the trash and burrito remains, beyond the telephone, and lighted on the folded sheaf of flowery notepaper propped up next to a stamped business envelope that contained their rent check. Unmailed. Caitlin jabbed her fingers into the blond hair at her temples and lifted the chin-length tendrils into fluffy disarray. Typical.
A muscle-tensing sense of impending crisis zipped from the roots of Caitlins kinky hair all the way down to her size-nine feet. Definitely the worst of times.
Cassie Kramer had the truest heart in the world, but her impulsive approach to life had left Caitlin in the mop-up and rescue position more than once during the course of their friendship. It looked as if today would be no different. She picked up Cassies note.
Her roommates handwriting was as flowery as the colorful daisies on the paper, and had been punctuated by a series of smiley faces. Sorry about the rent check. A frowny face added its own apology. Caitlin picked up the envelope shed addressed before going to her fathers. Dropping their rent into the mailbox had been a simple enough requestone her scatterbrained roommate had somehow overlooked. But Caitlin would take care of it. With the leeway granted by their landlord, she could still get it to him by the fifth of the month.
Caitlin read on.
I know the place is a mess, too. But I got tied up, so to speak. Smiley face. Tim and I discovered that panty hose will do the trick. Another smiley face and two exclamation points.
Caitlin looked up and frowned. Whos Tim? Despite her roomies diminutive height, she was generously proportioned and had a flirty, outgoing personality that men found irresistible. She was small and feminine and spontaneous, and men with sex and fun and adventure on their minds flocked to her.
Caitlin attracted a different sort. Standing nearly six feet tall in her bare feet, she found that a decent pair of heels left her towering over most men. Adding in the three bad-ass marines she called family, who loved her a little too well, didnt help set the mood for potential lovers.
And then there was the problem of being boring to contend with.
Virginia Is for Lovers.
Her home states old tourism slogan mocked her. Maybe if she was Cassie Kramer
Cassie could hang out until closing time at smoky bars on dance night and have her pick of the litter of available men. Caitlin could last an hour, maybe two, before her eyes stung and her lungs congested. There was nothing quite like hacking up phlegm to keep a man from asking her to dance.
Or to do anything else.
She was doomed to late nights at the library, with its purified air and rarefied patrons. While she loved her books, the fiction stacks just didnt draw the kind of men Caitlin wanted to meet. Thered been a few nice ones theregraduate students, retirees, Jimmy the bachelor librarian.
But not one of them looked the part of the disreputable beast from her favorite fairy tale. Not one bore an air that even hinted at danger. They were all charming and sweet and courteousand stuck in the same drudgery-filled life that Caitlin was.
Lucky Cassie. Damn lucky.
Caitlin read on. Cassies note might well be the most interesting part of her evening.
Will you be a dear and give my note to Sean?
She shook her head, wishing she could keep up with her roomies love life. Whos Sean?
Hes coming by tonight to pick me uphe called about some sort of weekend get-together. I thought I could go, but I cant. I tried to call back but couldnt reach him. It was sort of a mercy date, anyway. Hes a friend of a friend, you know?
Caitlin chastised the piece of paper in lieu of her impulsive friend. You could have just said no.
Id apologize in person, but Tim came by unannounced and surprised me with a four-day trip to D.C. We might actually leave the hotel and see some of the sights! Three smiley faces. One of them winked.
Youll take care of it, wont you? Thanks. See you Monday. Cassie.
At the last smiley face, Caitlins frown deepened. You get a weekend of adventure in the big city and I get to be the Wicked Witch of the West to your mercy date?
She picked up the Dear John note, hoping Cassies explanation would make everything clear to the hapless Sean, who thought he had a date tonight. Minus the smiley faces, this note was even more brief.
Sean
Sorry to leave you in the lurch like this, but something came up.
Take care,
Cassie
That helps a lot. Caitlins sarcasm echoed in the foyer.
Cleaning house and breaking the bad news to mercy dates. Just the way she wanted to spend her Thursday night. She could feel the excitement oozing from her pores.
Resigning herself to her lackluster fate, she set the notes on the table, carried the plate to the kitchen, then went into her room to change into grubby clothes. With nothing more exciting than housework and paying the rent to look forward to, she entertained herself by making a big production of getting dressed.
Stripped to her bra and panties, she opened her closet and curtsied to the long dress hanging on the door. Yes, my lord. Ill go with you. She pulled a hand-me-down T-shirt off a hanger and waved at the rest of the clothes. Goodbye, Papa. I will go with this vile beast if it means keeping you and my family safe. She pulled on the shirt and bowed her head to the long dress. Lead on, Sir Beast.
Caitlin waltzed to the bed. Oh, no, sir, you mustnt.
She muttered the patronizing protest, then threw herself, spread-eagled, onto the bed. My reputation, sir. I can never be yours. Well, maybe this once. In a fit of coy giggles she rolled onto her side, reaching for the full-length body pillow she slept with. She hugged it tight against her breasts and squeezed it between her thighs.
As she closed her eyes and kissed the back of her hand, the beast who was her captor took shape in her mind. A big, tawny, catlike creature. Something more than a man, something less than handsome. Virile and uncivilized, rough and ruggedthe veneer of his princely rank stripped away to reveal his animalistic need. His hands and mouth would touch, kiss and stroke her into surrender.
Caitlin rolled atop the pillow, increasing the pressure to the sensitive endings of her breasts and clitoris. She arched her back above her faceless captor and stroked her fingers along her neck, purring in response to the pretend touch of her beastly lover. She clutched at his imaginary mane of golden hair and ground her hips into the pillow. A tingling sensation fluttered between her legs and she reached for the culmination of this fantasy seduction.