Jo Ann moved deeper into the darkness of the park, searching for a place to sit and rest and reorganize her jumbled thoughts. She was aware that she was staggering and she was suddenly glad it was night. It would have been embarrassing if the park was filled with people, people who would have stared at her with disapproval ... very embarrassing.
A bench appeared and she stumbled toward it gratefully, collapsing on the wooden slats with a prolonged sigh. I'll just rest for a minute, she told herself sleepily. Just for a minute...
"Well, now," a voice chortled, "Look what I found."
"Hey, we got ourselves a regular Sleeping Beauty."
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. You got company."
Jo Ann opened her eyes dully and squinted up at the group of teenage boys that surrounded the bench. "Go away..." she mumbled thickly, feeling sick and weak and in need of more sleep.
They laughed and the mocking sound penetrated the fog that enveloped her. A hand slid up the length of her leg and all at once she was sober and frightened. She could feel herself beginning to shake and there was a terrible pounding in her head as she tried to push herself up from the bench. A rough hand shoved her back to it and when she opened her mouth to scream, another hand came around from behind her to muffle the sound.
"Relax, honey," one of them laughed. "You might just as well relax and enjoy it."
Then the hands were lifting her and carrying her away from the bench and through the thick foliage further into the blackness...
CHAPTER ONE
Jo Ann looked up from her electric typewriter and over to the door that led to the private, inner office where the executives stayed. Inside that office, unnervingly concealed behind the translucent glass, she knew that Stan Wyatt was finishing up his mail. Stan Wyatt ... the handsome one. Stan Wyatt ... the charming one. Stan Wyatt ... the worldly one. And the one who, in only an hour, was going to take her to dinner.
A warm blush of excitement suffused her skin and as Jo Ann forced her attention back to her work, she wondered how she was going to hold out until quitting time. The new dress she'd chosen for the occasion was hanging in the metal locker, just begging to be worn. The black chiffon creation had cost half her week's salary, but Jo Ann felt it was worth every penny. Tonight was special, and the evening deserved a special outfit. For if everything went as she hoped, Stan Wyatt was going to propose.
Just the thought of it was enough to make Jo Ann turn the typewriter off and close her eyes dreamily. How long had she been waiting for this, she asked herself, shutting out the sounds of the other people in the office. Almost a year now. But she had been strong. And good, despite the hell it had been, at times, holding out on Stan. But soon, all need for restraint would be over and she could give him her all. As a wife. And as a lover.
"Hey, wake up, girl. The weekend isn't here yet." The familiar cheerful voice cut through Jo Ann's reverie and snapped her attention back to the present. "Hello, Laura." She smiled up at her friend and tried to suppress the color that was heating her cheeks.
"Goofing off on the company's time, eh?" The sad-eyed blonde with the short curly hair mocked a stern, administrative expression. "You'd better watch out before one of the slave drivers in there catches you." Laura nodded toward the closed door.
Jo Ann chuckled at her private interpretation of Laura's words and wheeled her chair closer to the desk. "Are you down here on business, or just spying on the poor secretaries?"
"Business, unfortunately." Laura leaned over Jo Ann's desk and dropped a stack of papers onto it. "The new list of record titles just came through. The boss wants them stenciled before five. I'm really sorry, but..."
"That's okay." Jo Ann picked up the papers and glanced at the top sheet. "I need something to keep me busy anyhow, so I won't start daydreaming again. This shouldn't take long."
"Just as well, then," Laura smiled and leaned a little closer toward Jo Ann. "What's got you so up in the clouds today anyway? Or shouldn't I ask?"
"The same as usual." Jo Ann looked over toward the inner office and then quickly back to Laura. "It isn't easy to work, with Stan just on the other side of that door."
"I should have guessed." Laura sighed softly and straightened up. "If I were you, kid, I'd take it easy with that man."
"What do you mean?" Jo Ann asked, feeling the unexplainable discomfort that arose at times between herself and Laura. "I'm not doing anything I shouldn't."
"I don't doubt that for a minute," Laura chuckled.
"But that doesn't guarantee that you'll always be able to keep your head."
"Don't be silly." Jo Ann pretended to concentrate on the papers in her hand and tried not to let Laura's attitude upset her. Perhaps her friend knew something about men that Jo Ann didn't. But whatever it was, she didn't want to hear. She was getting everything she had always wanted. And that's all that mattered.
"I'll have these lists ready before I go home," Jo Ann promised, anxious to change the subject.
"Good." Laura turned to leave, as if taking the unspoken hint. "By the way," she called back over her shoulder, "I don't suppose you'll be available tonight. I thought we could take in a movie, if you're not tied up."
"I wish you'd mentioned it earlier. I would have loved to," Jo Ann lied. "But I've already made other plans."
"Well," Laura shrugged, "if you should happen to find yourself with any free time, I'll be home all weekend. Just give me a ring."
"Sure thing." Jo Ann forced a pleasant expression despite the growing discomfort she felt. She had purposely avoided mentioning what her specific plans for the evening were. And although she felt the omission was merciful, the necessity to lie to Laura left her with a guilty aftertaste.
Poor thing, Jo Ann thought as she watched Laura walk across the office. She never seemed to have any dates. Something strange about that, Jo Ann told herself, noticing the shapeliness of Laura's hips as they swayed through the doorway. Laura was an attractive girl. And a smart one, too. Maybe that was the trouble, Jo Ann decided. Laura was too smart. Lots of men were scared by women with brains.
Not Stan, though. He wasn't afraid of any woman alive.
Jo Ann felt the slow grin spread smugly across her face as she reached down to find a box of mimeograph stencils. Nothing frightened Stan. Not even her own fears. And the more Jo Ann resisted, the more persistent he became.
At least the stifling modesty would soon be over with, Jo Ann consoled herself as she rolled the blue paper into the typewriter. Just a little longer. And then she would discover the mysterious pleasures she had denied herself all these years.
All these years ... Jo Ann had to laugh at herself as she began to type. At twenty-one, she was the only person she knew who felt old. Old and wasted. An unnatural emotion for a girl of her years, Jo Ann knew. But an honest emotion, nevertheless.
And why not, Jo Ann asked herself. What had she done with those twenty-one years of her life? Nothing. Nothing at all. At least, not until a year ago...
Bootesburg was a bore. Jo Ann had felt the truth of that fact creeping up on her ever since she'd gotten out of grade school, but not until her twentieth birthday could she really admit it out loud.
"But the family has lived here ever since we can remember," Mama had protested, when Jo Ann confided her sentiments.
"I know," Jo Ann tried to be kind to the woman whom she had nothing in common with except the fact that they were related. "But I want more out of life than a small-town job, a small-town husband, and small-town babies."
"And what's wrong with Roger Harris?" Papa chimed in from behind his newspaper. "Half the girls in Bootesburg are running after him and you're the one who caught him."
"Who wants him?" Jo Ann frowned at the memory of trembling hands creeping up over her sweater and the smell of horses that always clung to Roger's clothes. "Let some other girl marry him, if that's what she wants. Not me.
There was a long silence, during which Papa finished reading his newspaper article and Mama's frown grew considerably deeper.
"Well, yes or no?" Jo Ann blurted finally. "Are you going to give me the carfare or aren't you?"
"I certainly am not!" Papa shouted, slamming the paper down beside him on the hammock and rolling his fingers into thick, rough-knuckled fists. "If this town was good enough for your mother, it's good enough for you."
Jo Ann backed down and, trembling as she always did when Papa yelled, looked imploringly over at her mother for help.
"No. Let her go." Mama's tone was soft and wistful, but decisive. "If Jo Ann isn't happy here with us, there's no need for her to stay."
That was all Jo Ann had been waiting to hear. Within twenty-four hours, she had packed her bags, bid a tearless farewell to friends and relatives, and was train-bound for New York.
The big city rose around her like a concrete and steel giant, overwhelming and protecting Jo Ann at the same time. Checking often to make sure that the money was still in her purse, she made her way across town to a hotel for women she had seen advertised in the paper. Settled in her room, with a month's rent paid in advance, Jo Ann congratulated herself for having taken the first step to escape the living death called home.
The days that followed were filled with job interviews, tests and more job interviews. It soon became apparent that a girl from out of town with only a high school diploma and limited commercial skills was not in great demand. And so, in response to a sign she saw on a subway billboard, Jo Ann took half of the money she had left and enrolled in the Speed-Sten School, to become a bona fide secretary.
After the first week of shorthand lessons, her teacher, Mister Preston, told Jo Ann that she was a very promising student and would make an excellent secretary when she had completed the course. He also offered to give her some outside coaching in his apartment, any night she happened to be free. Having been loudly and thoroughly forewarned by Papa against such extracurricular activities, Jo Ann declined Mister Preston's offer and continued learning ... in the classroom only.
During her term at school, Jo Ann eagerly sought out the acquaintanceship of the other girls in her class. To her surprise and disappointment, they didn't turn out to be the sophisticated and interesting people she had pictured as living in the big city. Instead, most of them were high school dropouts, eager to use a job as the fastest route to the nearest husband.
After a week of listening to them, Jo Ann promised herself that she would be different. There was nothing wrong with getting married, she decided. If the right guy came along. A man who wanted more than a hot meal on the table when he got home and a little wife to jump into bed with. That sort of thing she could have had in Bootesburg, with Roger Harris. New York, for Jo Ann, would have to be a proving-ground ... a place where she could meet someone with worldly interests and smooth city manners. Perhaps a man with money, who could treat her to all the things her mother had never had.
And if she ever found him, then she would take him back to her home town and let him prove to the folks that she had been right all along.
Eight weeks and eighty-five-words-a-minute later, Jo Ann passed her final test, accepted her diploma and went out onto the streets of Manhattan to look for employment once again. And this time, her big opportunity came after only two days.
She had been waiting in the reception room of the Sterling Record Corporation for well over half an hour and Jo Ann was beginning to get annoyed. It was one thing to be turned down, she told herself, but to have to wait for the disappointment was more than was reasonable to expect from someone who was down to her last twenty dollars.
"Mister Wyatt will see you now," the receptionist said, suddenly above her.
Jo Ann thanked the woman timidly and started toward the door marked Private. Touching the edges of her hairdo nervously, she arranged a pleasant smile across her face and took a deep breath. She must remember what Mister Preston told her when she left school. "There's no need to be nervous if you can do your job. An accomplished secretary will be a successful one." Mister Preston never went for a job interview, Jo Ann decided. For, prepared as she felt, she was twice as nervous as she had ever been before.
He was reading a paper and wearing glasses when Jo Ann tiptoed through the door of Stanley Wyatt's office. Standing soundlessly on the thick brown rug, Jo Ann retained her smile and wondered how long it was going to take the man to acknowledge her presence.
"Sit down please," Mister Wyatt said without raising his glance from his desk. "I'll be with you in a minute."
Haven't I waited long enough, Jo Ann wanted to ask him. Instead, she perched herself primly at the edge of a green leather club chair and hoped that her stocking seams were straight.
"Now, your name is...?" Mister Wyatt began, removing his glasses and smiling at Jo Ann from across his blotter.
Jo Ann felt her throat go dry as she returned the gaze of the deepest blue-green eyes she had ever seen. "Jo Ann Mason," she croaked as she noticed the hard muscled neck against the crisp freshness of his starched white shirt.
"You mustn't be nervous, Miss Mason," Mister Wyatt crooned, allowing his gaze to trace the outline of Jo Ann's calf. "This office just looks scary. We're really very nice people here at Sterling."
"Oh, I didn't mean for you to think I don't like the place..." Jo Ann stammered, shaken by the addition of a charming manner to the man's staggeringly good looks.
"Of course you didn't," Mister Wyatt laughed once, as if enjoying Jo Ann's flustered state. "Shall we get to the dictation test first?"
"Yes, sir." Jo Ann looked down quickly, grateful for the opportunity to escape his eyes and his disarming smile. Plunging her hand into her pocketbook, she extracted her steno pad and her carefully sharpened pencil and steeled herself against the possibility of his being a fast talker.
Happily for Jo Ann, Stanley Wyatt took long pauses between sentences to think and she was able to record every word verbatim. Transcribing her notes on the typewriter was an easy matter then and before she knew it, she was filling out her social security number on a form and agreeing to report to work at nine the following morning.
The slamming of a desk drawer behind her startled Jo Ann and brought her out of her thoughtful haze. Smiling embarrassedly at the girl behind the next desk, she grabbed for the record lists and began copying them as fast as her fingers would go.
The work took longer than she had anticipated, but Jo Ann kept up her furious pace, determined to finish in time to dress before five. When she finally looked up at the clock on the wall, it told her she had only fifteen minutes before she was free.
"Here they are," Jo Ann announced, dropping the fresh copy on Laura's desk and beaming proudly at her work.
"That's pretty fast action," Laura nodded approvingly at the neat pages before her. "You must have really worn your fingers down."
"Nothing any accomplished secretary couldn't do," Jo Ann cracked, snapping her fingers and laughing at her own attitude.
"Would an accomplished secretary like to have some coffee with an overworked cover designer?" Laura answered, smiling hopefully.
"Nope. Gotta run." Jo Ann tried to ignore the dull disappointment in Laura's eyes. "But I'll call you over the weekend, I promise."
"Okay, girl. But make sure you do. My feelings bruise easy."
Jo Ann simply smiled and left Laura's office. Ordinarily she would have remained to chat for awhile and make sure her friend didn't take her rejection as something personal. But now, the need for swiftness caught Jo Ann up and compelled her back to her own office. Finally, she was free. Her time was her own.
And she wanted to spend it with no one but Stan Wyatt.
CHAPTER TWO
Quitting time.
Jo Ann heard the scraping of desk chairs and the shuffle of shoe leather as she arranged the contents of her make up kit on the brim of the washroom sink. It was the same sound she had been accustomed to hearing every day at five o'clock. Suddenly the office woke up and its plodding people came to life again. Dull life, Jo Ann reminded herself. For where were they going? Home to supper tables, dirty dishes and television sets. Hardly a reason to rush.
Not her, though. Brightening with a feeling of eager anticipation, Jo Ann pulled a cake of soap from a plastic bag and set it before her. As the other girls filed into the washroom for a quick make up change before facing the rush hour, Jo Ann pretended not to notice their expressions of unmasked curiosity at the sight of the half dozen cosmetic bottles she had taken out.
"Heavy date, huh, sweetie?" a chubby redhead remarked on her way by.
"You bet," Jo Ann snapped, smug with a comforting sensation of importance and self-esteem. Wouldn't they all just turn green with envy if they knew whom her date was with, Jo Ann thought. And she would gladly tell them, except for the promise she had made to Stan. He was sensible, of course, about not wanting rumors to fly around the office. But still, Jo Ann would have enjoyed viewing their surprise and envy when the girls found out she was seeing Mister Wyatt ... Sterling Record Company's most eligible bachelor.
Leaning forward over the sink, Jo Ann ran the warm water and worked a soft lather up over her face. Tonight, she must look her very best. Beneath her fingertips, she felt her stale make up dissolve and run, leaving in its wake an energetic freshness and newness, usually experienced only in the mornings. She would need all of her energy, too, Jo Ann reminded herself ... if only to keep one move ahead of Stan's roaming hands.
It seemed like forever before the last of the girls had gone and Jo Ann was alone in the room. Glancing once toward the door to make sure, she reached for the top button on her blouse and began to take off her office clothes.
The white cotton slid over her shoulders and Jo Ann looked down at the tops of her breasts that swelled above the lacy slip. Stan would love to get his hands in there, she thought, ignoring the blush that invariably accompanied such candidness. Soon, she told herself, unzipping her skirt and stepping out of it. Soon she would let him get his hands on everything...
The slip floated down to land atop her rumpled skirt on the floor and Jo Ann returned to the mirror to view her nearly naked body. Only her bra and panties remained to hide the smooth white flesh that she was so proud of. Jo Ann stared at the sight of her full, high breasts and tiny, nipped in waistline. No diets for her, she thought proudly. Her figure was just fine. Good enough for any man.
The warm water felt good on her arms and neck. Jo Ann rinsed the soap from her flesh and reached for the towel she had brought from home. Glancing at her watch, she moved faster, aware that she had only ten minutes to get dressed. It wouldn't do to keep Stan waiting. There were too many girls who would be more than willing to take her place at a moment's notice, if he got impatient.
As she unfastened the clasps over her back, Jo Ann felt her breasts fall free of their moist confinement, and she took a deep breath. She had never liked underwear and if not for the revealing outlines of tight blouses and sweaters, she wouldn't ever bother to wear any. Tossing the bra away with the rest of her discarded clothes, she reached down to the elastic hem of her panties and drew them downward.
The sensation of complete nakedness caused her to hesitate for a moment and regard her body in the mirror. How much longer would she have to remain a virgin, Jo Ann wondered, allowing her fingers to slip silently across the creamy roundness of her hips. As she touched herself, a tingling nervousness rippled through her body and compelled her hand downward. How many times had she thought about a man when she was naked, Jo Ann wondered. A man who would take her body and make it burst with the pleasure of fulfillment ... a man who would make sure that she'd never want again for that certain kind of loving that makes a woman complete...
Forcing herself to move, Jo Ann reached into her carry-all bag and pulled out the new black underwear she had bought to go with her dress. The soft lace bra cupped her breasts and lifted them high. Jo Ann inspected the peek-a-boo effect of the material for a moment before she moved to pull on the matching black panties. She felt a slow, hot throbbing in her breasts and knew that she had dallied too long with her thoughts about a man. She would have to hurry now or she would wind up trying to sate that uncomfortable need that crept up on her so often in the night.
The tight chiffon sheath slid over her breasts, around her hips and down, until it finally came to a snug fit about her body. Jo Ann zipped up the side of the dress and coaxed the neckline a little lower over the expanse of stark white flesh. Just enough to make herself look interesting without creating an open invitation. Stan would like that, she figured. He'd like it even better if there was no dress at all to get in the way ... but there would be time for that. And if Jo Ann could wait, so could he.
Running a comb through her honey-blonde hair, Jo Ann rearranged the simple style into one more fitting for evening wear. Satisfied that every wave was perfectly in place, she picked up her mascara and worked to bring out the softness and depth of the azure blue below her sleepy, heavy lids. A creamy coral lipstick completed the picture and Jo Ann tossed the make up happily back into the bag before opening a bottle of perfume. Finished at last, she dabbed a few extra drops beneath the top of her bra and walked out of the room.
The main corridor of the Sterling office building was deserted when Jo Ann stepped out of the elevator. Glancing down the hall and seeing no one, she was seized by a momentary panic. Had he gone off without her? Had Stan decided that a girl who wouldn't tumble in bed wasn't worth waiting for any longer? Were ail her plans for him futile and done with now?
The sight of a familiar figure at the cigar stand outside the glass lobby door caught Jo Ann's eye. Her high heels clicking as she moved, Jo Ann hurried along the marble corridor and out into the street.
The last days of winter were taking their sweet time to depart and Jo Ann squinted against the cold wind. Hugging her dress coat tightly about her bare shoulders, she moved toward the curb where he was standing.
"Well, hello there." Stan's gaze stopped falling abruptly when it reached the top of Jo Ann's high collar. "I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you."
"I had to wait until everyone got out of the office," Jo Ann explained quickly. "You said you didn't want anybody to get any ideas about us..."
"That's my girl." Stan patted Jo Ann's cheek with his hand and led her away from the office building.
Warmed by his approval, Jo Ann hurried to keep pace with Stan's long stride. She hadn't the slightest idea where he was taking her, but she didn't really care. At last she had him all to herself again. That she had managed to remain patient through an entire day of hardly speaking to him was something suddenly unimaginable. But now, waiting was a thing of the past and there was nothing left for her to do but enjoy the pleasure of his company and the reassuring clasp of his strong hand.
"I hardly saw you today," Jo Ann commented as they turned a corner and walked up the block. "I missed you."
"I was busy." Stan's words were clipped, almost cold.
Jo Ann returned immediately to silence, deciding against pursuing conversation that Stan wouldn't respond to. An old, nagging irritation crept into her mind and she fought to ignore it. So he wasn't the romantic type, Jo Ann told herself for the hundredth time. What difference did it make? And yet, she knew that she would never quite adjust to that disquieting quality in him.
"We'll take a taxi," Stan announced, turning toward the gutter and searching the street.
Jo Ann nodded and remained still. She could tell that Stan wasn't in one of his brighter moods. Instinctively, she searched her mind for something clever to say that might cheer him up. Then, just as quickly, she decided against making the effort. If something was bothering him, he would tell her or not tell her as he chose. From past experience she knew that no cajoling on her part could boost him into a pleasant frame of mind. For now, she decided, it was enough just to be with him. No point in pressing her luck.
Stan opened the cab door and gave the driver his Fifty-Ninth Street address. As Jo Ann climbed into the taxi ahead of him, she could feel Stan's eyes taking in the sight of her exposed legs and she was glad. Any positive form of attention from him was an encouraging sign.
"How come we're going right to your place?" Jo Ann ventured as the cab began its slow journey toward the East Side.
"I just thought we'd have a little private dinner," Stan answered, the faint hint of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "I've got something special on my mind for tonight and I don't want any interruptions from nosey waiters."
Jo Ann grinned and lowered her gaze modestly. So she had been right after all, she told herself gleefully. Tonight was the night he was going to pop that all-important question. She should have known better than to fear his losing interests.
The cold wind made her shiver, but Jo Ann didn't mind as she waited for Stan to unlock the front door to his apartment house. Soon they would be alone and she would hear him say the words that would assure her of a lifetime of success ... the words that would prove that she had escaped, finally, the stigma of small-town breeding for the glamorous and easy life as the wife of a New York executive ... Jo Ann Mason ... rich, chic. Important.
"Come on. I'm going to freeze out here."
Stan's irritable voice severed Jo Ann's concentration and compelled her indoors. Moving quickly so as not to annoy him further, she hurried through the tiled lobby toward the red elevator door.
"Don't tell me you're going to cook," Jo Ann affected a light tone as Stan followed her into the elevator.
"Of course not." Stan glanced unamusedly over at her and then sighed aloud. "I ordered some Chinese food sent over before I left the office. Dammit, but I'm tired." He opened his shirt collar and loosened his tie.
"Don't worry, I'll make you feel better," Jo Ann said, anxious to get back on the right side of him even at the risk of a misleading double entendre. "You just mix yourself a drink and relax when we get upstairs."
Stan nodded absently and toyed with his key ring. When the elevator stopped, he rushed out into the hall and down toward his apartment.
Following him along the hall, Jo Ann enjoyed the sensation of thick red carpeting beneath her feet. Soon this would all be hers, she told herself, looking around at the smooth ivory colored walls and bright modern chandeliers. Her home. A home in the best section of town with plenty of room and plenty of light. And all thanks to Stan.
Once inside the vestibule, Jo Ann allowed Stan to help her off with her coat before proceeding into the living-room. "You want to take a shower before dinner?" she asked over her shoulder. "Don't let my presence make you modest." She laughed softly then, knowing that her last words were totally unnecessary.
"That's the best idea I've heard all day," Stan answered, sounding a great deal friendlier than before. "Pour me a scotch and soda first, will you?"
Without bothering to answer, Jo Ann reached into the Italian Provincial liquor cabinet and fished through the bottles for Stan's favorite brand. Finding it, she poured a stiff shot into a heavy crystal glass and went into the kitchen to find some ice and a mixer.
Stan was stripped to the waist when Jo Ann appeared in the doorway to his bedroom. Trying to force her eyes from the catalytic sight of his muscular shoulders, she extended her hand in his direction and offered him the glass.
"I won't be long," Stan said, before taking a deep swallow. "If the delivery boy from the restaurant gets here, there's some money on the kitchen table."
"I'll take care of it," Jo Ann said, and turned to leave.
"Hey, didn't you forget something?" Stan called after her.
Turning around quickly, Jo Ann hurried into Stan's waiting embrace and parted her lips eagerly for his kiss. Her mouth melted pliantly beneath the pressure of his and she caught her breath as sudden excitement rose within her and threatened to turn her knees to jelly.
"You'd better take that shower," Jo Ann's voice was husky as she pulled away from him.
"Why don't you mix yourself a drink while you're waiting," Stan said, reaching for the buckle of his belt.
Jo Ann hurried out of the room, knowing he'd strip right in front of her without any compunctions whatsoever. The idea of viewing Stan totally undressed intrigued and upset her at the same time. She had never seen a naked man. Of course, she had changed plenty of diapers in her baby-sitting days and seen enough dirty photographs back in high school. But it still wasn't the same thing as having Stan right there in front of her without any clothes on. An inexplicable shudder ran through her as she returned to the bottle of scotch in the living room.
The sound of running water in the shower gave Jo Ann an unusual sense of privacy. Curling up in the corner of the long sofa with her drink, she looked slowly about the room and viewed what would soon be hers.
The apartment was furnished in good, expensive, masculine taste. As her glance wandered along the hard, square lines of the cherry-wood tables, Jo Ann sensed a great deal of Stan's presence in the room. She would enjoy that when he wasn't at home with her during the day, Jo Ann decided, wiping a spot of soot from the end table near the sofa. Yes, she would enjoy the apartment altogether, from the heavy white drapes to the beige marble mantel above the fireplace. She would be comfortable there. Comfortable and blissfully secure.
The strong taste of the scotch mellowed her insides. Jo Ann leaned back against the soft material of the couch and felt the liquor travel all the way down to her stomach. Outside, she could hear the wind howling furiously and she pictured the thousands of people hurrying to get in off the streets. But she was warm and safe. And it looked as though she would remain that way.
The ringing of the doorbell jolted her to her feet. Without stopping to slip back into her shoes, Jo Ann padded out into the vestibule and pushed the intercom button.
"Singapore Delivery Service," a heavily accented voice called distortedly through the little metal box.
"Come on up," Jo Ann answered, pushing the buzzer and allowing enough time for the man to get inside the lobby.
A few minutes later she heard the elevator stop at Stan's floor and she unlocked the door.
"Here's your supper, Missus Wyatt," the smiling Oriental man announced.
Jo Ann accepted the warm packages without bothering to correct him. She had never before been referred to as Stan's wife and the feeling was a pleasant one. Placing the bags on the kitchen table, she picked up several bills and paid the man. Then she gave him an extra large tip.
"Was that the food?" Stan's voice was muffled by the closed bathroom door and the shower spray.
"I'll set it out for us," Jo Ann called back, already picturing herself fixing Stan's dinners every night ... a role which she would undoubtedly adore.
The smell of chow mein filled the kitchen and whetted Jo Ann's appetite. Resisting the temptation to sample the contents of the many cardboard containers, she walked back to the living room for her drink.
She was surprised to find that there was little more than a few melted down ice cubes in the glass. Humming absently, Jo Ann picked up the bottle of scotch and poured herself a refill. There was no need for soda anymore, she decided, as she tasted the liquor. The first drink had done its job of dulling her taste buds to the unpleasant flavor. Now she could enjoy the effects without sacrificing the well being of her stomach. Besides, Jo Ann decided as she took a healthy sip, the evening called for a celebration. And nobody felt more festive tonight than she.
Jo Ann was well into her third drink when she heard Stan open the bathroom door. Carrying the bottle with her, she hurried back into the kitchen to meet him.
"I see you've started the party without me," Stan said, approvingly when he noticed the bottle in Jo Ann's hand.
"You want another?" Jo Ann asked thickly, holding her glass out to him.
"No, I've got what I want." Stan's voice was soft as he noticed the plunging neckline of Jo Ann's dress for the first time. Instantly, he moved toward her.
"Oh, no you don't," Jo Ann sang out, backing around to the other side of the table and pulling out her chair. "Dinner's going to get cold."
Stan grimaced in pretended distaste and walked over to his side of the table. Pulling his bathrobe cord a little tighter about his waist, he glanced down at the array of food before them.
It suddenly occurred to Jo Ann that Stan probably wasn't wearing anything beneath that blue robe. Determined to ignore a slight trembling in her hands, she lifted a serving spoon and reached for a container of rice.
"Eating at home is a nice idea," she said, for lack of something more ingenious. "I love Chinese food."
Stan grunted his agreement and held out his plate to be filled.
As she spooned out the food for him, Jo Ann couldn't help but notice the appealing change in Stan's appearance since the shower. His curly black hair, mussed and tousled from a day of running anxious fingers through it, was now slick and smooth. A fresh shave gave him an air of boyish innocence that Jo Ann knew didn't belong there, but enjoyed anyway. And his eyes seemed to sparkle now with renewed interest. How could she help but love him, Jo Ann asked herself. With Stan, a girl didn't have a chance to escape. But then, what girl in her right mind would want to?
"I think I'll take you up on that offer," Stan's words were almost lost in a mouthful of food as he held his glass out near the bottle of scotch.
Jo Ann put down her fork and poured for him and for herself. She could feel the last three drinks working on her system to make her light-headed and a trifle giddy. The sharp outlines of objects in the room seemed the slightest bit fuzzy now. But she didn't mind. Stan would take care of her, even if she got drunk. And so, she felt free to do exactly as she pleased.
"You know, I might just make a habit of this," Jo Ann said, before she raised the glass to her lips.
"Best thing in the world for you," Stan agreed, raising his own glass in a silent toast to her. "Takes away all the nasty inhibitions in young girls."
"The hell it does," Jo Ann answered hastily, knowing exactly what he meant and knowing, too, that she could never get that drunk.
"We'll see," was Stan's only comment before he returned to the food.
Jo Ann ate quickly, hardly able to wait until dinner was over. How would he say it, she wondered, picturing how ridiculous Stan would look on bended knee. No, he definitely wasn't the type to get mushy, Jo Ann decided. He'd probably just ask her point-blank to marry him and that would be that.
Should she hesitate at all before answering, Jo Ann wondered for a moment. No, that would be silly. What was she trying to pretend? Stan must know how she felt. She had told him often enough. Thank goodness he felt the same way.
"You don't want coffee, do you?" Stan asked, putting down his fork and patting his stomach.
"No, not now." Jo Ann felt a twist of excitement playing havoc with her nerves. Any moment now. All she had to do was get him into the living room, and then...
"How about a cigarette in the other room, then?" Stan nodded toward the door.
Jo Ann had all she could do to keep herself from running over to the sofa. Encouraged by the sound of Stan's footsteps immediately behind her own, she moved carefully, not wanting to betray how anxious and excited she really felt.
Stan set their glasses down on the coffee table and reached over to the silver cigarette box. Placing two white cylinders between his lips, he lit them and offered one to Jo Ann.
"Dinner was delicious," Jo Ann blurted, needing to release some of the explosive energy that was building up inside of her.
"Glad you liked it." Stan turned to her slowly and narrowed his eyes to study the sight before him. "Did I tell you how great you look tonight?"
"No, you didn't." Jo Ann hoped she didn't sound as flustered as she felt. It was almost like the first time she'd met him, the day she had gone for the job interview. The same blue eyes ... the same disarming smile ... the same sensation of being close to the pleasantest type of danger she knew.
"Well, then, I'll tell you now." Stan moved a little closer, seemingly unaffected by Jo Ann's state of tense discomfort. "This looks beautiful." He kissed her cheek. "And this looks beautiful." His lips traveled to the hollow of her throat and caressed the sweet softness there. "And these look beautiful..."
Jo Ann felt her flesh spring instantly to life as Stan's mouth slipped down to the neckline of her dress. Forcing herself not to bolt, she allowed him to linger there for a few moments. Then, when his hands began to travel up over her stomach, she pushed him gently but firmly away and reached protectively for her cigarette.
"I get the message." Jo Ann tried to sound amusing, but strong. "Thanks for the compliment."
"Oh, come on, baby." Stan sounded more disgusted than wounded. "We know each other much too well to still be playing children's games."
"There's nothing childish about this game." Jo Ann heard the thickness of her speech and tried to fight it. "You just be a good boy, huh?"
Stan did nothing for a few minutes, but continued staring at her as though trying to make up his mind about something. Then he turned around and picked up his half-empty glass of scotch.
Jo Ann felt the buoyancy drop out of her mood as she watched the lines of Stan's face harden and tighten into an expression of silent annoyance. She wanted to reach out for him and apologize ... to try to explain how frightened she was of giving him what he wanted ... but something inside her cautioned her to remain silent and stick to her guns.
"You said you had something special on your mind." Jo Ann's voice was suddenly timid, almost quaking. "What was it?"
"Forget it," Stan snapped, dragging deeply on his cigarette and refusing to look at her.
Jo Ann felt the war of nerves beginning and she knew she was in no mood for it. What had started out to be a wonderful evening was fast turning into a fiasco. Reaching for her glass, she drained it in two gulps and clenched her teeth against the sudden awareness of taste.
"Are you going to sit there and sulk all night?" Jo Ann knew she was only going to irritate him further, but she couldn't help herself. It wouldn't have seemed so bad if he blew his top or argued with her. But that unbearable, uncommunicative silence of Stan's was more than she felt equipped to contend with. "Since when do you worry about me?" Stan sounded almost adolescent in his petulance and Jo Ann moved impulsively to stroke his cheek. "Come on now," she crooned, feeling braver when he didn't push her away. "We were supposed to have a good time, remember? Don't spoil it."
"I'm not spoiling anything," Stan whirled around to face her, eyes wide with anger. "You're the one who turns into a cold fish every time I get close. Sometimes I don't know why I bother to try."
Jo Ann felt the stab of fear pierce through her chest. Swallowing hard, she wrenched her face into a smile and said, not what she wanted to, but what she felt she had to.
"Why don't you let me have another drink and then maybe we'll try again?" Jo Ann's voice sounded far away to her, but she couldn't think. All she knew was that she was losing him. The look on Stan's face couldn't be misinterpreted. He was getting tired of her. His patience was running out. And she had better do something fast, or else he'd be gone.
"You really mean it?" Stan said, the reappearance of a smile already beginning to reshape his features.
Jo Ann nodded and swallowed hard. Maybe the liquor would do the trick after all, if she really wanted it to. She'd heard about how frightened brides often were. A couple of drinks and things would be much easier all around. It was worth a try.
Stan's fingers darted out toward the bottle and brought it back to Jo Ann's glass. Lifting it, he filled the glass half full and set it down before her.
Jo Ann clasped her fingers in her lap and watched him pour. Inside of her, something was screaming to run and get out while she still could. Nothing was worth that price, not even Stan. But something else, something stronger and more convincing, told her that if she let Stan slip out of her life, she would never have another chance. It was now or never. No Stan, no marriage. No marriage, no success. No success and it was back to Bootesburg forever.
Jo Ann reached over for the glass and lifted it slowly toward her lips. She knew that Stan was watching her and she fought not to seem like she was stalling. She had to go through with it. Now. Tonight. It might as well be painless, she told herself, closing her eyes and gulping fast.
Her throat seemed to catch fire and she gagged violently.
"You don't have to choke yourself," Stan said, pulling the glass from her hand and getting to his feet. "Stay here. I'll get you some water."
Jo Ann wiped the tears from her eyes and looked down at the coffee table. Only a little bit of the liquor remained in the glass. It tasted like lye, but she polished off the rest of it. And soon, she prayed, the liquor would hit so hard, she wouldn't know what she was doing ... or care.
"I'm sorry you have to booze yourself up to make love to me," Stan said, handing her the water.
Jo Ann downed the cool liquid quickly, grateful for the relief it brought to her burning, grating throat. "It's not that," she said when she could speak again. "I told you I'm just scared, that's all."
"But there's nothing to be scared of." Stan dug into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a tissue for her. "Take it from me, baby. You'll love it."
Jo Ann wiped her lips and said nothing. What was there to say? It wasn't as though Stan was giving her a choice. His tone was sweet, but her back was still up against a wall. Yes or no. Put out or get out.
And she had to stay.
"How about some music?" Stan suggested, looking a little uncomfortable for the first time.
"All right." Jo Ann would have agreed to almost anything to get off the topic of sex.
Stan pulled open the door to a long cabinet and flipped on the hi-fi. The room was filled suddenly with soft music, flowing from four separate speakers. "Dance?" he asked.
Jo Ann nodded and pulled herself unsteadily to her feet. An uncomfortable heaviness had settled inside her skull and she found it difficult to focus. Somehow, she managed to find her way into his arms and gratefully, she rested her full weight against the strength of Stan's body.
"That's much better," Stan whispered against her ear as he pulled her closer and moved her in tempo to the soft music. "Just relax and let me do all the worrying."
Jo Ann hugged him tightly and wished she could do as Stan suggested. The comforting sensation of his arms around her was nice, but she knew it wouldn't remain that way for long. Soon, those arms would be reaching ... pawing ... feeling ... working to bring about an inevitable end. And she dare not say no.
Stan's hand traveled to the small of Jo Ann's back and she tried not to stiffen. Yielding to the insistent pressure of his embrace, she moved closer to him, until their bodies were pressed tight and her breasts were crushed against his chest.
"That's a good girl," Stan whispered, tracing down along the outline of Jo Ann's spine with his fingertips and allowing his touch to linger at the soft curve of her hips.
Jo Ann felt his thigh brush against hers and she forced herself doggedly not to pull away. The sensation wasn't at all unpleasant, she discovered, as his lips made a moist trail down her neck to her bare shoulder. Shivering with the beginnings of excitement, Jo Ann sighed and hoped he would kiss her some more.
Instead, Stan pushed her away and held her at arms' length, while he stared unashamedly at her body. "Nice," he murmured, viewing the tops of her breasts and then dropping his glance to the black material that hugged her flat stomach. "Very, very nice."
Jo Ann turned away as the inevitable blush tinted her cheeks and made her feel vaguely ashamed of herself. Moving forward, she buried her face in the folds of Stan's bathrobe, unable to tolerate his inspection any longer.
He began to dance again and Jo Ann felt her toes go numb. She must be getting drunk, she told herself hopefully, wishing she could cast aside the modesty that wasn't allowing her to let loose and enjoy herself completely.
Silent, sure fingers sneaked up the front of her dress and came to rest just beneath Jo Ann's quivering breasts. Trying to concentrate on the beat of the music, she said nothing as those fingers continued upward with electrifying pressure.
She felt her nipples rise to rigid alertness as Stan pressed his thumbs there and pulled her toward him. Jo Ann sighed as a familiar throbbing started and grew in intensity with each passing second. Perhaps she could go through with it after all, she thought, pressing herself harder against his hands and enjoying the delightful waves of sensation that were flooding her body.
Stan suddenly pulled her to him and in one second, Jo Ann was aware of his excitement. Steeling herself against her instinctive fear, she allowed him the closeness of her body. Soon, her hips began a slow, instinctive indulation of their own, as Jo Ann floated with the tide of desire that was slowly obliterating the last traces of her better judgment.
"Let's go inside." Stan's voice was noticeably heavy as he released Jo Ann and steered her toward the closed door of the bedroom.
Jo Ann stumbled forward, filled with the need to end her yearning and allow her body to be satisfied. Her clothes felt suddenly heavy and burdensome and she longed to rip them off and throw them away. But as Stan sat her down on the edge of the bed, she knew that he'd want to undress her, in his own time, in his own way. So she didn't move, but just sat, waiting, trembling, hoping.
Stan sat down beside her and urged Jo Ann toward the mattress. Gazing up into his smile, Jo Ann took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. Sooner or later it would have to happen anyway. And she knew that Stan was going to be the man with whom it would happen. Why not now? No reason at all.
His kiss was long and Jo Ann sought out the tip of his tongue with her own. She was vaguely aware of her legs dangling over the side of the bed, but the awareness of Stan's hand poised at the cleft between her breasts made everything else seem secondary in importance. She wanted him to touch her. To touch her and make her forget that there was such a thing as fear.
"I've been waiting so long for this," Stan murmured, nipping at the lobe of Jo Ann's ear and then kissing her hair.
Jo Ann rolled toward him and pressed herself against Stan's body. She didn't want to hear him talk anymore. She didn't want anything, but to feel flesh upon flesh ... need beside need, until she was completely lost within the sensations of fulfillment.
The material of her dress rustled, as Stan reached below the hem and cupped Jo Ann's knee with his hand.
"Easy now," Stan whispered, when Jo Ann tensed. "Let me do the work."
Jo Ann rolled onto her back, unable to speak, unable to reason. In only a few minutes, an overpowering necessity had arisen and made itself known. And now, she no longer wanted to resist, no longer wanted to wait. She was gone ... deliciously caught up in the need of her body ... her need for Stan.
His hand moved, bypassing the tops of her stockings, until it came to the textured lace of her panties. Jo Ann arched her back as her desire mounted. She could hear Stan's shallow breathing and it only served to increase her own excitement. Why was he toying with her, she wondered. Why couldn't he just take her and relieve this unbearable tension that was making her squirm with delightful imbalance?
She gasped when the elastic hem of her panties yielded to the pressure of Stan's grasp. She opened her eyes once, but the darkness above her head was spinning in rhythm with the eddy of desperation that churned within her. And then, his hand moved again...
"No!" Jo Ann heard the shrill scream of her own voice and its sound shocked her into a sitting position. "No ... no!" She continued yelling, unable to stop the flood tide of terror that had so suddenly smashed through her drunken state of self-deception.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Stan turned on her, his face contorted with annoyance and surprise.
"Just leave me alone!" Jo Ann yelled, pulling her skirt back down over her knees and running from the bed.
"Have you gone completely out of your mind?" Stan came running through the doorway, just a few steps behind her.
Unable to bring herself to answer, Jo Ann picked up her shoes from the living room rug and threw herself toward the front of the apartment.
"Come back here!" Stan yelled as Jo Ann opened the door and rushed out into the hall.
She could hear his voice behind her, but Jo Ann didn't stop to look back. Stan was wearing a bathrobe, she knew, and so he wouldn't follow. And that was all she cared about. Another few minutes and she would be safe again. Safe, alone, and far away from alien hands, alien kisses, and alien desires. Far away from the man she thought she loved.
CHAPTER THREE
The cold night air hit her like a lead wall and sent her staggering down the street. Jo Ann closed her lips tightly against the wind and forced her feet to carry her forward. She knew she had forgotten her bag and her coat, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter. People stared, but she kept on walking. She should be cold, she knew, but only her lips responded to the weather. Only her bruised, aching mouth, where Stan had pressed against her teeth and brought her pain.
Her calves began to ache and Jo Ann considered removing her shoes. She would have done so, except that she couldn't find them. She knew her feet were down there somewhere near the sidewalk, where ever that was. It was all too confusing. She would keep the shoes on. To hell with her feet. To hell with Stan and marriage and everything else. She wanted to be alone.
The old man's eyes darted down to her breasts and back up to her face. His hungry expression was apparent to her, even in her drunken state, and Jo Ann cursed loudly at the preposterous, would-be lover. The man hurried across the street as Jo Ann's poisonous laughter rang through the air after him.
Two blocks away she could see the lights of the Fifty-Ninth Street circle. Jo Ann headed in that direction, eager to see smiling faces ... desperate to rid herself of the slimy feeling that clung to her skin. It was cold, she knew.
She should be freezing. She felt nothing. Only hate. And confusion.
Couples strolled arm in arm along Fifth Avenue, comfortable in each other's presence, despite the weather. Jo Ann watched them from her bench near the fountain and despised them all. Why should they be so damned happy, she asked herself. What had they ever done to deserve it? It was she who was entitled to the emotion. She, Jo Ann Mason, who should rightfully be laughing and flirting and having a good time with her man. But all she could do was watch from a distance and grow progressively more nauseous.
She thought about going back to Stan's place for her coat, but instantly decided against it. He wouldn't try to touch her again, she knew, but still, she couldn't see him. She couldn't face him. At least not until she had had a chance to calm down and unravel the mystery that had caused her to become hysterical. For a moment, she thought she knew what it was that had set her off. Still, she couldn't be sure. And she knew she mustn't make any move at all until she knew what she was doing ... and why.
A policeman looked at her curiously, but passed on without questioning her presence. Jo Ann got up and started walking west. Tonight she just didn't fit in anywhere, she told herself belligerently. She was a total misfit. Frigid and violent and heaven only knew what else set her apart from the rest of the human race ... a failure.
The lobby of the Plaza Hotel was crowded with well-dressed people as Jo Ann passed by its doors and glanced in. If only she could be one of them, she thought, noticing their beautiful clothes and feeling shabby in comparison. Forty dollars. Half a week's salary for a dress. And when it was all done, she still looked like something fresh off the farm.
The quiet of Central Park South was dark and inviting. Jo Ann staggered down the block, anxious to escape the bright lights that were forcing her to view herself with contempt and disdain. There, before her, lay an expanse of street that seemed deserted. Perhaps she could find herself if she walked there. Perhaps, in that darkness, she would discover an answer to her irrational behavior and finally know herself.
The trees tilted crazily above her head and Jo Ann laughed at their unnatural angles. Her eyes were playing tricks on her, she knew, but they were funny tricks and she liked them. As she walked, her laugh grew louder. Suddenly everything was funny ... Stan and herself and her screwy ideas of marrying one of the bosses. "How stupid," she thought aloud. How preposterous to think that half a glass of scotch could blot out a fear she had lived with ever since she could remember.
A woman turned her nose up haughtily and Jo Ann stopped laughing. "Go ahead, scowl, you old stiff," she called after the retreating figure. So what if the woman was pretty, Jo Ann muttered under her breath. That still didn't give her the right to look down on Jo Ann.
The light turned red at the corner and Jo Ann crossed the wide street. On the other side, a low, gray stone wall guarded the borders of Central Park. In the darkness, Jo Ann moved toward it, eager to find a bench where she could rest and reorganize her thoughts.
The group of boys stopped talking the moment she came into view. Jo Ann pretended not to notice their probing eyes and flashing teeth as they started to make obscene jokes about her. Quickening her pace, she walked past them, anxious to escape the sight of men, hungry for her flesh.
"Hey, baby, you got the time?"
Jo Ann recognized the tone and tried to flee from it.
But the sidewalk suddenly veered off course and began to turn upside down.
"You better be careful, honey, or you'll fall down."
Jo Ann felt the hand grasping her arm and yanked away. She stumbled and the sidewalk began to reach up for her. Suddenly she stopped in midair, as strong hands caught her shoulders and yanked her back to an upright position.
"Thank you..." Jo Ann Started to speak, but the sight of that same leering boy from the bench made the words catch in her throat.
"Maybe you like to sit down and rest a little, lady?" His eyes sparkled and his green shirt clashed with the color of his tie.
"No, I'll be all right." Jo Ann tried not to sound frightened. "Just let me..."
"No, you better sit down." The boy looked past her shoulder and suddenly his friends seemed to crawl out of the darkness.
Jo Ann tried to count them, but they kept moving in all directions. "Please..." her voice started to quaver and the beginnings of awareness chilled her more than any winter night could ever. "I have to go home now..."
"You don't look too good," the boy continued. "I think you should rest. What do you think?" He turned, grinning to his companions for support.
"Yes ... yes ... rest." Their voices darted about Jo Ann's head, making it turn quickly in futile attempts to find their sources.
"But I don't want to sit..." Jo Ann's protest was weak and spiritless.
"I don't think you know what you want, baby," the leader said and stood proudly until his friends had finished laughing at his remark. "Maybe you better come with us. We show you something you like."
"No..." Jo Ann started to balk, but another boy was right beside her, blocking her path. She whirled and suddenly there were boys all around her ... laughing ... mocking ... devouring the sight of her scantily clothed body with hungry eyes.
She would have screamed, but a hand closed quickly over her mouth. Jo Ann felt the presence of boys on all sides of her as unfamiliar hands urged her toward an opening in the park wall and then across the grass. Once, she managed to forced her head around to look behind her, but she couldn't see the street anymore. And she knew that no one passing by would be able to see her either.
The park was black except for occasional circles of light thrown by the yellow street lamps. As she stumbled forward, Jo Ann's soft whine of protest was lost among the raucous howls of laughter and obscene conversation of the boys around her.
"Over there," one of them called, pointing to a clump of low bushes beside a tall, dark boulder.
Jo Ann tried to pull away, but there were too many hands holding her. Inside her skull, a giant hammer pounded mercilessly and a great throbbing racked her temples. She felt herself being steered down a path, between trees and then pulled to a stop.
Jo Ann urged her eyes to focus, but the moonless night and thick underbrush made clear vision impossible. She heard laughing voices behind her, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. All she knew was that she had to get away and save herself.
With all the strength she could summon, Jo Ann kicked out at the nearest shin. The toe of her pointed shoe found its mark. Jo Ann heard the boy cry out only a split second before his fist came smashing across her face. Her stomach lurched violently and threatened to block out awareness altogether. Jo Ann fought the dizziness in terrified silence.
"Hey, take it easy with the broad," the leader's voice commanded from somewhere in the darkness. "She won't be as good if she's out cold."
"But the bitch kicked me..." a whining voice protested as its owner rubbed an aching shin.
"You'll get your chance to pay her back," the first boy answered. And everybody laughed but Jo Ann.
"Come on, bring her over here," the leader said from the other side of the clearing.
Jo Ann tried to break away, but it was no use. Foot by foot she felt herself losing ground as the boys dragged and tugged her roughly over the rocky terrain. She tried to bite the fingers that covered her mouth, but her jaw was numb and refused to move.
Finally, they stopped moving. One of them shoved her and she felt the trunk of a tree press into her back. Tears sprung to her eyes as the rough bark scraped her shoulders and scratched her skin. The voices tapered off to complete silence then, as the leader approached and stood not two feet away from Jo Ann.
Jo Ann stared back at him and the boy's face widened in a slow, lascivious grin. His eyes traveled the length of her trembling body, feasting on every curve.
"You gonna be nice, baby," he hissed, reaching out and pressing a palm over Jo Ann's breast. "Very nice."
Jo Ann shrank from his touch, but the trunk of the tree behind her prevented escape. Breathing heavily, she glared defiantly as the boy began a slow, circular movement with his hand. She tried to speak, but the words were muffled by the hand still over her mouth.
"We let you go, if you promise not to yell," the boy said, glancing up at Jo Ann's face. "You promise?"
Jo Ann nodded quickly and took a deep breath the second the hand was removed from her face. "Please..." she begged, when she could speak. "Let me alone..."
"You crazy, baby?" The leader smiled and his friends chuckled. "Guys like us need a girl like you."
"I've never..." Jo Ann began, before an overwhelming shame silenced her.
"We show you how, liar," the leader spat. "You learn very quickly, I bet."
Jo Ann felt her knees buckle and she braced herself for the fall. Instantly there were hands about her waist, hoisting her back to a standing position, hurting the flesh beneath her clothing.
"That's a nice dress you got on." The leader closed the short distance between himself and Jo Ann with one step. "You wanna take it off?"
Jo Ann started to speak, but the boy didn't wait for an answer. His hands shot out and closed about her hips, pulling Jo Ann in his direction.
Jo Ann fell forward into his arms and the boy tilted his head down toward her mouth. His tongue dove deeply between her lips until Jo Ann thought she was going to gag from the intrusion.
Suddenly the leader pulled away and turned to the boy beside him. "Stay over there," he ordered, nodding toward the far side of the clearing. "We don't want any visitors."
In a moment the boy was gone and the leader returned his attention to Jo Ann. "How you doin', honey?"
Jo Ann knew he didn't want an answer and so she gave none. Her brain churned wildly in a vain attempt to fathom a way of escape. But even as she thought, Jo Ann knew there was no hope.
Cruel, sadistic fingers squeezed her breasts and Jo Ann winced from the pain. She could see the evil smile on the boy's face, but it didn't seem to register. All she knew was that she suddenly felt tired ... old and worn-out ... and the cold ground beneath her became irresistible.
"That's it, baby ... lie down." The boy let Jo Ann slide to the earth and then released her.
Through terror-widened eyes, Jo Ann watched him kneel down beside her. She wanted to yell at him ... to claw out his eyes and ruin him with her knee ... but she couldn't move. Her throat was on fire and her legs were numb ... her whole body ached with fear and exhaustion ... and she wanted only to die.
Above her attacker, eager eyes stared down at her, waiting for a reaction ... silently asking for something to excite their owners. Jo Ann looked away, unable to face the hideous faces that were looming in the darkness, waiting for their turn to come closer ... counting the minutes until she would be theirs.
Long fingers reached for her knee and rubbed their way up under her dress. Jo Ann tried to move, but a great weight held her down. She whimpered softly. Her nylon stockings gave way to insistent tugging and Jo Ann felt them roll and curl near her ankles. Thrashing her head from side to side, she tried to muster up the energy to push the boy off her body. But her struggles only seemed to arouse him further and he pressed himself down harder on top of her.
"You gonna give me a hard time?" The boy's fingernails dug into the tender area of Jo Ann's thighs and made her scream with the pain.
Immediately, her voice was cut off again by a rough hand and her head held still.
Jo Ann felt her new black panties rip as they were forced from her hips. She tried to fight the hands that tugged her dress up over her thighs, but a few minutes later the coolness of damp earth chilled the backs of her legs and she knew her exposure was complete.
As the leader moved closer, the horrible awareness of what was about to happen charged Jo Ann's body with a super-human burst of strength. Digging her heels into the ground, she forced herself upward and sank her teeth into the fingers that pressed against her mouth.
There was a fast shuffling of bodies and an angry grunt of pain. As Jo Ann pulled herself to a sitting position, she sensed a quick movement on either side of her. Before she could move to defend herself, she was forced back down to the ground and pinned there.
"Please, I never ... I swear..." Jo Ann begged for the short moment it took the leader to return to her. She closed her eyes just as his slap stung her cheek and set her head ringing dully.
But the pain in her head lasted only a moment before another, greater pain ripped through her and blotted out everything else.
Jo Ann lay mute and impassive to the sounds and movements about her. Once, she thought about Stan ... about home ... about the way she had hoped it would be. But soon, she couldn't think, she couldn't respond to anything.
Through glazed eyes, she saw the boy's face above hers, contorted with desire, shriveled with intensity. Only vaguely was she aware of his departure and the immediate presence of another face.
A hand crept down into the top of her dress, but Jo Ann didn't feel its presence. Once, she saw the tops of the trees fall from view and she knew she was rolling over onto her stomach. Once, she saw a flash of skin in front of her eyes ... once, she felt a belt buckle scrape across her forehead...
After awhile, Jo Ann stopped caring. They lifted her, turned her, positioned her, but she didn't know it. She remembered Roger Harris, as one of the strangers rubbed her breasts and kissed them. Then, quickly, surprisingly, the voices began to fade, and the laughter disappeared among the trees.
And Jo Ann stared up at the cloudy sky ... alone.
CHAPTER FOUR
The shrill persistence of a distant car horn cut through the blur around her brain and impelled Jo Ann back to awareness. Smoothing her rumpled dress down over her legs, she pulled herself to her knees and then stopped abruptly. The ground trembled beneath her. She lurched forward, gasping. The spasms in her stomach crashed and rolled turbulently until she thought she'd pass out. And then, she rolled back onto her haunches to recuperate in the sudden, welcome aftermath of total calm.
The tree trunk was rough but Jo Ann hugged it tightly to remain upright. She wanted to walk, but her head refused to stop throbbing and her feet refused to move. She couldn't feel anything of the rest of her body ... almost as though it wasn't there anymore. Her strength was gone. Her free will a thing of the past. And she knew she would never again be able to look herself in the eye without remembering what had happened to her ... and why.
The wind made the branches above her sway and suddenly fright took over. It rushed up all at once ... the awareness, the pain, the horrible memory of what had happened and what now remained. Jo Ann forced herself to take one step and then another. She could walk. She wasn't dead yet. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.
The exit onto Central Park South appeared miraculously before her and Jo Ann flung herself toward it. Panting for breath, she managed to make it to the street and almost smiled at the sight of moving traffic and distant pedestrians. At least she wasn't completely alone any longer. And despite the pain, she knew the worst was over.
An old man and his wife stopped to look quizzically at her, but Jo Ann kept on running. She didn't know where she was headed, but she didn't want to stop. There was a strange comfort in motion ... the awareness that she was free again. The knowledge that despite everything, she had survived.
The Fifty Ninth Street circle was practically deserted when Jo Ann reached it. She was tempted to find a bench and rest awhile where it was safe, but thought better of it. Once she sat, she couldn't be at all sure of the strength necessary to get up again. Better to get indoors ... where somebody could take care of her.
But who? Jo Ann made a mental list of all the friends she had made in the city as she walked south on Fifth Avenue. She remembered Stan's apartment, barely three blocks away, but she knew she couldn't go back there. She must go someplace where she wouldn't have to explain ... someplace where she wouldn't be reminded of the mess she had made of her life ... somewhere where she wouldn't be judged for the things she wasn't capable of doing...
The taxi screeched to a stop at the curb and Jo Ann threw herself into the back seat. Ignoring the driver's strange look at the sight of her, she gave him a downtown address and leaned back against the warm leather. Her body had started to shiver and for the first time since she had left Stan's apartment, Jo Ann was aware of the intense cold.
"May I trouble you for a cigarette?" She leaned forward and smiled as best she could despite the bruises on her face.
"Are you sure you're okay, Miss?" The driver sounded more frightened than concerned as he handed Jo Ann a pack of cigarettes.
"Yes ... I just slipped off the curb," Jo Ann lied, hoping he wouldn't press the issue.
The driver shrugged and headed west on Fifty-Seventh Street. Jo Ann sighed, grateful for his silence and ran her fingers through her rumpled hair.
As feeling returned to her flesh, Jo Ann felt the stiffness set in. By the time the driver pulled up at the corner of Waverly Place and Sixth Avenue, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to make it out of the cab.
"Wait here, will you please?" Jo Ann asked, turning back to the driver.
Seeing him nod, she glanced up to the third story window of a gray building and smiled at the sight of a small lamp that glowed in the window. Moving as quickly as she could, Jo Ann walked into the narrow lobby and searched the names on the register until she found the one she was looking for.
It seemed like hours before the buzzer answered her and Jo Ann pushed open the heavy brass door. Clenching her teeth against the pain in her knees, she climbed the flight of stairs and slumped against the apartment door at the top.
Bare footsteps padded across a wooden floor and hesitated for a moment on the other side of the door. "Who's there?" a sleepy voice asked.
"It's me ... Jo Ann. Open up, please."
The lock turned quickly and the door moved inward. Jo Ann stared at the girl in front of her for a long moment, before collapsing in tears against the doorframe.
"For heaven's sake, come on in." Laura encircled Jo Ann's waist with her bare arm and helped her inside. "What happened to you?"
"I've got a cab waiting downstairs," Jo Ann said. "Please pay him. I'll give you the money in the morning."
"Sure thing. You just wait right here," Laura said, helping Jo Ann into a chair, before she put a blouse on over her bra. "You sure you'll be able to stay alone while I go down?"
"Go ahead." Jo Ann accepted a handkerchief and dried her eyes. "I'll be all right, I promise."
Laura nodded dully and reached onto the record cabinet for her wallet. Without taking her eyes from Jo Ann, she slipped on a pair of loafers and walked slowly toward the front door. "Help yourself to a drink, if you'd like," she said, tucking her blouse into a pair of fitted black slacks. "I won't be but a minute."
"No thanks," Jo Ann murmured, but Laura was already out the door.
Tilting her head back against the rim of the wicker chair, Jo Ann forced herself to calm down and regain her composure. It was all right now, she told herself, lifting a trembling hand to wipe her eyes again. Everything was fine. Laura would take care of her. Laura wouldn't judge.
"That cab driver seems to be pretty shaken up about you," Laura said as she walked back into the apartment and locked the door behind her. "It took me a full five minutes to convince him that he didn't have to take you to a hospital."
"I guess I do look kind of strange." Jo Ann smiled despite herself at the sight of Laura trying to be tactful.
"Did you take a drink?" Laura looked around for the sight of a glass.
"I don't really need one. Thanks, anyway," Jo Ann said, knowing she'd never touch liquor again as long as she lived.
"You wanna tell me what happened?" Laura sat down cross-legged on the convertible sofa bed and pulled a pillow up beside her.
"Could I have some coffee first?" Jo Ann asked, unwilling to risk hysteria again.
"Of course." Laura jumped up off the bed and walked to a hot plate in the corner of the room. Shaking the aluminum coffee pot, she smiled at the sound of water inside it and turned on the burner. "I've only got instant, but it's not bad."
"That'll be fine," Jo Ann said and tried her best to look contented.
Laura stood fidgeting with her hands and staring at Jo Ann. Her hair was still tousled from where she had been lying on it and her eyes betrayed a great need for sleep. "You want to wash up before dinner?" she asked, affecting a light-hearted expression and pointing toward the bathroom.
Jo Ann nodded and walked across the room. Every movement was an effort, but she fought not to let it show. No point in upsetting her friend any more than necessary, she thought, wincing at the pain in her stomach.
With the bathroom door safely locked behind her, Jo Ann slipped off her shoes and steeled herself for a glance in the mirror. Turning slowly, she leaned forward and silenced a gasp with her shaky hand.
Her face was like a death mask, pale and tight about her high cheekbones. Jo Ann touched a deep red bruise on her forehead with tender fingers and felt the swelling there.
Cold water, that was the answer. Turning on the tap, she reached for a nearby washcloth and saturated it in the sink. Then she patted it, very gently, against her throbbing skin.
Jo Ann shifted her position several times to try to find a comfortable one in front of the sink. No use. Everything hurt. Everything ached. She felt torn to shreds.
Tossing the washcloth into the tub, she turned and unlocked the door. She hadn't even the energy to comb her hair.
The aroma of fresh coffee floated down the hall and brought inspiration. Sniffing the invigorating aroma, Jo Ann walked toward its source, eager to feel some warmth inside her.
"Not very pretty, am I?" Jo Ann found herself unable to meet Laura's eyes as she entered the living room. "I hope you're not upset."
"It's you I'm worried about." Laura pulled two heavy white mugs from the window sill and set them on a coffee table. "You look like you just wrestled with a Mack truck."
Jo Ann didn't even try for a clever retort. Instead, she sank down onto a folding chair and stared at the stream of water Laura was pouring into her cup.
"Cream and sugar?" Laura asked.
"Please." Jo Ann glanced over at the spoon and wondered if she had the energy to lift it.
The coffee was sweet and strong and Jo Ann tried not to drink too fast. She felt the heat scalding her cracked lips, but refused to give up. There had to be something that would make her stomach feel better, she told herself. It was worth any sacrifice, even pain, to rid herself of the nauseous sensation.
"If you're nauseous, then you shouldn't be drinking coffee," Laura said, sounding suddenly crisp and efficient. "Let me make you some hot soup."
"Please, don't go to any bother," Jo Ann smiled apologetically, feeling as helpless as a child.
Laura snorted and opened a cupboard. Pulling out a can, she opened it and dumped the contents into a pot of water and set it on the burner.
"Let me have a look at that cut," she said, sitting down in a chair next to Jo Ann's and tenderly brushing a wisp of hair out of the way. "I think we ought to put something on it."
"No, it'll be okay," Jo Ann protested weakly, unable to tolerate the thought of a burning antiseptic on top of the rest of her discomforts.
"Who asked you?" Laura smiled and hurried into the bathroom.
Jo Ann sat patiently while Laura cleaned the cut and applied a soothing white cream. The cool paste felt good on her forehead and she was glad Laura hadn't listened to her.
"Any place else?" Laura asked, when she had finished.
Jo Ann sighed and pulled her skirt up over her knees. The gritty brown earth stains soiled her flesh and made it look rough and chapped.
"I think you'd better lie down for that," Laura said, rising and walking toward the bed. "Come on, before it has a chance to make trouble."
Jo Ann walked obediently over to the bed and stretched out on her back. Despite the pain, she felt comfortable under Laura's care. It was good to have somebody minister to her ... somebody gentle, somebody who wouldn't pry. And even as her knees stung beneath Laura's touch, Jo Ann was glad she had come here.
"I don't think I'll be able to get all that dirt off without some hot water," Laura said, looking down and studying Jo Ann's soiled legs. "Come on, I'll run a hot tub for
"Please don't," Jo Ann said, stretching her legs out across the mattress. "I'll be fine if you'll just let me lie here for awhile."
"Fine and filthy." Laura pushed her chair back and stood up. "Now, give me your hand and stop being such a difficult patient."
Jo Ann sighed and pushed her legs over the side of the bed. Laura was too kind, she told herself. She didn't deserve such a good friend after the shabby way she had treated Laura that afternoon. She would be more careful in the future, Jo Ann added silently. People like Laura were few and far between.
The steam from the bathtub rose and thickened the air with moisture. Jo Ann squirmed at the sensation of damp clothing sticking to her skin as she watched the water rise in the tub. Beneath the front of her dress, her breasts complained with the need to be free of the scratchy, moist brassiere. Her spine felt like it was about to break. And that bath looked very inviting.
"I'll help you with that," Laura said when Jo Ann reached painfully around for the zipper on her dress.
Jo Ann stood silently as Laura loosened the material for her. Raising her arms straight above her head, she waited for Laura to hike the dress up and away.
Then she remembered. She wasn't wearing any panties ... they had been torn off and discarded. But it was too late. The dress was already up over her shoulders.
The expression on Laura's face was a combination of surprise and awareness. Jo Ann looked over at her furtively, then turned embarrassedly away.
"It's okay, Jo Ann. You don't have to explain." Laura's voice was soft, tender.
"It wasn't my fault..." Jo Ann heard herself start to explain.
"I'm sure it wasn't." Laura sounded sincere. "Come on now, let's get rid of the rest of your things."
Jo Ann stood still while Laura unhooked her brassiere. Naked finally, she stepped carefully over the rim of the tub and slowly lowered herself into the hot water.
The soothing warmth covered her body and lulled Jo Ann toward a state of calm. Still unable to look at Laura directly, she reached for a washcloth and soap.
"I'll do that," Laura said, taking the cloth out of Jo Ann's grasp and urging her to lean back against the smooth porcelain.
Jo Ann watched her tender breasts bob on top of the water. She could see a red welt that had risen next to one of her nipples and she hoped that Laura wouldn't notice it.
"Feel better?" Laura asked, patting a thick lather over Jo Ann's naked shoulder.
Jo Ann nodded and closed her eyes. How good it was to be catered to, she thought, as Laura's delicate touch tried to soothe away the pain. The washcloth lapped between her breasts and tickled a darkened point. Jo Ann felt the tip grow rigid beneath the water at the contact and blushed. Neither girl spoke for a long while.
"Okay, you're all clean and new," Laura announced, pulling the stopper and reaching beside her for a towel. "Dry off and I'll get you some pajamas."
"You don't have to do that," Jo Ann said. "I can make it back to my place all right. I'm sure I can."
"Nonsense." Laura brushed aside the last of Jo Ann's argument with a decisive wave of her hand. "You'll stay here. Unless, of course, my apartment isn't good enough for you."
"Don't be silly. I only meant that..."
"Then it's settled." Laura tossed Jo Ann a towel and left the room.
Jo Ann patted the last drops of water from her glistening body and hung the towel back onto the rack. Picking up the flannel pa jama top, she smiled at the bold blue stripes and slipped into it.
The draw string bottoms were too big on her and Jo Ann chuckled at their baggy fit. Finished at last, she pulled on Laura's extra pair of slippers and padded out into the other room.
"Well, there's one hell of an improvement." Laura put down her second cup of coffee and nodded approvingly at the smiling figure on the other side of the living room. "You ready for that soup now?"
Jo Ann went to the table and began to eat without a word. When her bowl was empty, she placed it in the sink and turned to Laura. "All gone," she said. "I'm a good girl, huh?"
"You bet your life you are." Laura winked and stood up. Walking over to the bed, she drew back the fresh sheets and patted the mattress. "Come on, now," she called to Jo Ann. "You can use a good night's sleep."
Obediently, Jo Ann crawled between the covers and rested her head happily on the softness of the pillow. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Laura began to undress.
The woman's back was to her and Jo Ann felt glad for the opportunity to observe Laura without being seen. She had somehow expected Laura to take off her clothes in the dark and the woman's lack of modesty surprised her.
A long, narrow back dove straight down to softly curving hips. Jo Ann stared at the sheer white panties and marveled at her friend's gorgeous figure. The old curiosity returned to mind as she noticed Laura's soft thighs and supple legs ... how come Laura had no dates?
Long graceful fingers reached up for the little clasps and unhooked the bra. Tossing it onto a nearby chair, Laura turned around quickly and smiled at Jo Ann. "All set?" she asked, reaching for a light switch.
Jo Ann quickly shifted her glance away from Laura's high, pointed breasts and nodded. "Don't you wear pajamas?" she asked as the room was plunged into darkness.
"Only at pajama parties." Laura's voice was tinged with amusement as she felt for the bed and crawled in.
The sound of the traffic out in the street caught Jo Ann's attention and held it, despite her tiredness. It was always the same in a strange bed, she remembered. Somehow, she never felt quite safe, without her old pillow and accustomed quilt. But where could she be safer, Jo Ann asked herself, wondering at the illogical workings of the human mind.
The second she closed her eyes, she saw him ... teeth flashing ... eyes glowing in the darkness. "Laura!" she cried out, grasping for the girl beside her.
"Hush, baby." Laura put an arm around Jo Ann's trembling shoulders and tenderly stroked her long hair. "It's all over now. You're safe."
Jo Ann took a deep breath and savored the pleasant, sweet odor of Laura's soft body. Suddenly, the warmth of Laura's closeness made her feel secure.
And soon, holding Laura tightly, Jo Ann fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
"How do you like your eggs."
"What?"
"I said, how do you like your eggs?"
Jo Ann rubbed her eyes and tried to wipe the cobwebs from her brain. The bright afternoon sunshine made her squint and she turned her face back into the soft pillow.
"Oh, no you don't," Laura said, bending over her and scratching her head. "Eleven hours sleep is enough for anyone. Even you."
Jo Ann yawned loudly and rolled over onto her back. Suddenly, a shooting pain darted up her leg and with it, her memory of the previous night returned. Bolting upright in the bed, Jo Ann stared blankly at the strange apartment and finally looked into Laura's patient face.
"It's all right. You're with me, remember?" Laura wrinkled her nose and pulled a dish towel from her shoulder. "Now, like I said, how do you like your eggs?"
"Scrambled," Jo Ann answered absently, unaware of how she could possibly be expected to possess anything vaguely resembling an appetite.
Cautiously, she stretched her arms and quickly rubbed a sore shoulder. How long could this go on, she wondered. Hadn't she suffered enough for her mistakes?
"I must look like a monster," Jo Ann said, remembering with distaste the frightening face that had greeted her in the mirror last night.
"You look a damned sight better than you did when you tumbled in here," Laura called from the stove. "If you don't believe me, have a look for yourself."
Jo Ann got out of bed and slid into Laura's slippers. Hiking the loose pa jama bottoms up higher over her hips, she stumbled, still half asleep, into the bathroom to see.
Laura was right. The swelling on her forehead had diminished to hardly more than a pink discoloration. Her jaw still looked a little lopsided, but Jo Ann knew that skillful make up could cover that easily. Smiling, she reached for a comb and decided that she would muddle through, after all.
And then, something else occurred to her. Closing the bathroom door softly behind her and locking it, Jo Ann pulled off her pajamas and returned to the mirror to view her body.
The rest of her didn't look very different, either, Jo Ann told herself, surprised. Funny, she thought. Somehow she had always expected to look different in some way. But even after what had happened, it was impossible to tell.
Climbing back into the pajamas, Jo Ann unlocked the door and returned to the living room. Nobody need know, unless she chose to tell them. Of course, Laura must have guessed, after the way she looked last night. But Laura wasn't the big-mouthed type. Jo Ann smiled. Her secret was safe.
"Hmm, looks good." Jo Ann pulled her chair closer to the table and reached for the pile of toast in front of her. "You should have told me you were such a good cook. I would have come over sooner."
"You were always too busy," Laura answered, a hint of pain fleeting across her features.
"Sorry." Jo Ann looked away, knowing that Laura had spoken the truth. , "Forget I said that, please." Laura squeezed Jo Ann's hand and then took a piece of toast for herself. "I'm just a little keyed up today. It's not your fault."
"Did anything happen?"
"Never mind, forget it." Laura's tone was almost brusque. "Let's eat."
"Okay." Jo Ann picked up a fork and tried not to pry. With the first taste of food, she found to her amazement that she was hungry, after all. For the next fifteen minutes, she didn't speak at all.
"That should be good for at least five pounds," Jo Ann said, finally putting down her fork and sighing. "I never thought I could eat so much."
"Who can blame you?" Laura said. "You've been through a lot, these past twenty-four hours."
Jo Ann felt the smile drain from her face as that terrible image returned to her mind's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Jo Ann," Laura smiled weakly. "I didn't mean to open my fat mouth like that."
"It's all right," Jo Ann said. "I should have told you the whole story anyhow."
"That's not necessary," Laura said quickly. "I don't have to know."
"I want you to, though," Jo Ann said, feeling obligated to explain her sudden appearance in Laura's apartment.
"Some other time. Please." Laura looked as though she were fighting to remain in control of herself. "I just don't want you to talk about it now."
"All right, if you say so." Jo Ann picked up her cup and drained the last of the coffee.
"Well, what would you like to do today?" Laura asked, suddenly brightening as she pushed her chair away from the table.
"I hadn't really thought about it," Jo Ann said. "I just figured I'd go home and pull myself together again."
"And what will you wear?" Laura stifled a laugh. "You don't expect to go traipsing through the streets in a cocktail dress at two in the afternoon, do you?"
Jo Ann blushed as she realized that Laura was right. "Maybe I could borrow something of yours? I'll wash it and return it to you tomorrow, I promise."
"I have a better idea," Laura said, lighting a cigarette and offering one to Jo Ann. "Why don't we go downstairs and buy you a new outfit? That's the best cure I know of."
"With what?" Jo Ann asked. "I didn't bring a pocket-book last night either, you know."
"I've got some money," Laura said. "Oh, no. I couldn't possibly."
"Of course you could," Laura interrupted Jo Ann's embarrassed refusal. "You can pay me back whenever you have it."
"Are you sure you can spare it?" Jo Ann felt herself happily relenting.
"Don't worry. Money is one thing I can spare." Laura got up quickly and pulled open a dresser drawer. "Let's see what we can put on you in the meantime."
Jo Ann pulled the bulky blue sweater down around her hips and regarded herself in the mirror. "Not too bad a fit," she commented to Laura's smiling face.
"I must admit you do a helluva lot more for that sweater than I ever could," Laura said. "The slacks aren't exactly a cinch, though."
Jo Ann had to laugh as she noticed the bagginess of Laura's pants on her. They were almost as loose as the pajama bottoms and she looked lost in them. "If you don't mind being seen in public with me looking like this, why should I complain?" Jo Ann said as she turned from the mirror.
"Here, take this jacket." Laura pulled a green parka from the closet and handed it to Jo Ann. "At least it'll keep you warm."
Jo Ann thanked Laura, then followed her out of the apartment.
The streets of Greenwich Village were crowded with weekend tourists and Jo Ann had to weave her way down the block to get through them. Stopping at a corner for a light, she turned around expecting to find Laura right beside her. Instead, a strange man was standing there, looking curiously at her outfit.
Jo Ann turned around and spotted Laura about four stores back, talking to a young woman with jet black hair. Retracing her steps, Jo Ann walked over and joined them.
Conversation halted abruptly as Jo Ann approached. "Looks like I lost you," she said to Laura.
The woman with Laura chuckled bitterly and shoved her hands into the pockets of her stained white trench coat.
"Jo Ann, I'd like you to meet my friend, Leslie Porter," Laura said, sounding somewhat strained.
"Hi." Jo Ann offered a pleasant smile and a friendly nod, but received nothing in return.
"Where are you two headed?" Leslie's voice was deep and expressionless.
"We've got some shopping to do," Laura answered quickly. "I'll give you a ring tonight."
"Yeah, you do that," Leslie said, without taking her eyes from Jo Ann. "It would be a nice surprise."
Jo Ann felt relieved when the unfriendly girl turned and shuffled away down the street.
"Not very sociable, is she?" Jo Ann commented as she and Laura walked together toward the corner.
"Leslie's got her problems." Laura's voice was unnaturally restrained. "You have to understand her."
No I don't, Jo Ann thought, but said nothing.
"Let's try in here," Laura said, suddenly ducking into the doorway of a little clothing store with a fishnet over its entrance.
Jo Ann followed her inside and glanced around at the bright colored attire on display.
"Can I help you?" a middle-aged woman with blue-gray eyes and an over-anxious voice asked.
Jo Ann was about to speak when Laura cut her off.
"We're looking for a whole new outfit ... from the skin out," Laura announced.
The saleslady nodded automatically and glanced curiously behind Laura at Jo Ann, before turning and heading toward the rear of the store. "What kind of an outfit did you have in mind?"
"Something sexy," Laura answered immediately, looking as if she might break into laughter at any moment.
The saleswoman nodded again and disappeared into a back room.
"I love to shake up that old dyke," Laura whispered to Jo Ann. "She thinks nobody knows."
Jo Ann smiled as though she knew what Laura was talking about and reminded herself to ask at a later date. A moment later, the woman returned, carrying several large boxes.
"Shall we try this selection first?"
Half an hour later, Jo Ann emerged from the store carrying her new outfit under her arm.
"Are you sure I can't help you with something?" Laura asked, looking unexplainably proud beside her.
"Don't be silly. These are very light." Jo Ann clutched her parcels protectively and quickened her step. "Let's go right back to your place. I want to put everything on all at once."
Laura said nothing, but fell in step with Jo Ann, as they walked back along the avenue.
"Well, what do you think?" Jo Ann asked a short time later, as she paraded up and down in front of Laura in the living room of her apartment.
"You're a knockout," Laura said, glancing down along the smooth line of Jo Ann's new blue lastex slacks. "I wouldn't guarantee your safety in that outfit, though."
Jo Ann smiled and turned back toward the mirror. Despite herself, she had to admit that this new kind of clothing looked nice on her. She had never shopped in the Village before and the latest styles there seemed to suit her well.
The white boat-neck sweater molded her breasts and accentuated her small waistline. Jo Ann followed the line of the outfit with her fingers, down to the skin-tight material over her hips.
"I even like the tennis sneakers on you," Laura said. "At least they don't slip off the backs of your heels, like my loafers did."
Jo Ann laughed and turned back toward her friend. "How can I ever thank you?" she said. "You've made me feel just great today ... not to mention last night."
"Forget it," Laura said with a wave of her hand. "Just make sure it doesn't take another crisis to bring you back here."
Jo Ann smiled and gathered up her crinkled cocktail dress. "I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning," she said.
"Can I count on that?" Laura looked suspended between hope and disbelief.
"Absolutely." Jo Ann raised her right hand into an oath-taking gesture.
"You sure you won't stay for lunch?" Laura asked again.
"I've really got to go," Jo Ann's tone turned serious. "There are still a few things I have to attend to."
"If you say so," Laura shrugged. Jo Ann started for the door.
"Hey, you forgot this," Laura said, holding out a five dollar bill.
"Thanks again." Jo Ann took the money and crumpled it in her hand. A moment later, she closed the apartment door behind her and started down the stairs.
Alone on the street, some of Jo Ann's lightheartedness began to pall in the light of present thought. Slowing down her pace, she tried to decide what she would say ... how she would explain herself. One thing she knew for sure: there'd be a whole lot of explaining to do ... the next time she spoke to Stan.
CHAPTER SIX
To call or not to call. That was the question.
Jo Ann paced back and forth across her hotel room waiting for the telephone to ring. She'd questioned the housekeeper three times since she'd returned from Laura's apartment last night, but the answer was always the same. No, Mister Wyatt hadn't called. No word. No message. No encouragement.
Running her fingers over the clinging lastex of her new slacks, Jo Ann smiled and thought about yesterday. Funny, she told herself, how a miserable experience like that incident in the park could lead to a pleasant afternoon. Laura was right. Jo Ann should have visited sooner. It didn't matter, though. From now on she would know better. She had a good friend in Laura. And now, she would enjoy that friendship often.
The other problem returned to mind to sour Jo Ann's mood and compel her attention back to the matter at hand. Whether or not she wanted to, she knew she must speak with Stan. He deserved some kind of explanation for her actions. But what explanation could possibly make him understand? And more important, what could she say to make him forgive her?
Jo Ann's instinctive reaction was simply to tell the truth.
Yet, even as she formed the words in her mind, she knew that it was the wrong approach to use on Stan. He wasn't the type to really understand and sympathize with a woman. His kind of man preferred few words and lots of action. But the type of action he wanted Jo Ann knew she couldn't give.
Strange that he hadn't called, Jo Ann thought. He should have at least been concerned about her arriving home safely. She could have been killed out there in that park and Stan still wouldn't know.
The awareness chilled Jo Ann and made her hug herself in frightened recollection. Timidly, warily, she allowed herself to think about what had happened for the first time since she had been alone. The scene was clear enough and her memory served her well. But even though she knew it to be fact, Jo Ann found it difficult to fully accept that such a monstrous thing had been done to her.
There was no denying the truth, though, agreeable or otherwise. She wasn't a virgin anymore and Jo Ann knew that sooner or later she was going to have to face up to that hard, cold fact. Her days as a girl were over. It shouldn't really matter anymore whether or not she slept with a man. The first time could only happen once, she reminded herself. And that first time in her life, revolting though it was, had come and gone.
And what was she going to do about it now, Jo Ann wondered. No answer came to mind to set her at ease.
Call, damn you ... call!
It would be so much easier if Stan broke the ice, Jo Ann thought. If only he could be like the other men she had known. Then he'd be on the wire, apologizing and begging her forgiveness for getting her so upset. But Stan wasn't like the others, Jo Ann knew. Undoubtedly that was what had attracted her to him. But now, for the first time, she felt sorry for that specific difference she had always loved before.
No sense in stalling any longer, Jo Ann told herself, walking toward the door. She had to face him sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner. The longer she stalled, the harder it was going to be.
The telephone at the other end of the line rang several times without being answered. Jo Ann stood in the hotel lobby biting her fingernails and glancing back and forth across the room to make sure nobody was within hearing distance. What would she say to him, she asked herself again. She still hadn't the slightest idea. Best to play it by ear, according to his attitude and receptiveness, Jo Ann decided.
"Hello." The familiar voice was crisp and impersonal.
"Hello, Stan. This is Jo Ann. How are you?" She knew the words sounded as forced as they felt, but there was nothing she could do to hide her discomfort.
"I'm fine." Stan sounded unmoved by Jo Ann's call. "What do you want?"
Jo Ann shuddered at the coolness of his tone and manner and tried not to let Stan's attitude intimidate her. "I phoned because I didn't hear from you."
"What did you expect, after the way you carried on?" Stan's voice sounded suspended at the edge of a derisive laugh.
"Oh." Jo Ann's voice was hardly more than an astonished whisper. She hadn't counted oh his being insulted in the light of what had happened to her. But, she reminded herself, Stan had no way of knowing about that. As far as he was concerned, she had just run out and that was that.
"You still there?" Stan asked.
"Yes ... yes, I'm here," Jo Ann answered quickly. "There's something I have to talk to you about, Stan," she whispered, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece.
"And what's that?" Stan sounded bored.
"Not on the telephone." Jo Ann smiled at the girl who walked past and hoped she hadn't heard any of the conversation. "Can I come over?"
"You mean to my place?"
"Yes." Jo Ann preferred to ignore the obvious implication in favor of the urgent need to settle things with him as best she could. Once Stan knew what had happened, he couldn't stay mad at her. And that confidence was already beginning to make her feel better about seeing him.
"I'll be home for another hour or so," Stan continued in his indifferent tone. "If you can make it before I leave, come on ahead."
"I'll be there." Jo Ann hung up without saying goodbye and before she had the chance to ask if he had a date with another girl. The mere thought of that possibility was enough to hurry her back to her room to dress. No, Stan wasn't getting away from her as easy as that, Jo Ann decided. She still needed him. And as long as she felt that way, she would do everything in her power to hold onto him ... maybe even more now than she was able to do before.
An early sunset bathed the streets of Manhattan as Jo Ann stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked down the street for a taxi. Confident that she looked well in the new outfit she was wearing, Jo Ann held her head high and walked erect. The bruises on her face had conveniently disappeared beneath her make up and the bruises on the rest of her body were only for herself to know about. The tight slacks hugged her body and made her feel exceptionally thin and alluring. No need to go creeping hopefully into Stan's apartment with her tail between her legs, Jo Ann assured herself. The combination of the way she looked with what she was about to tell him would soon have Stan Wyatt on the defensive. And then, she'd be in delightful control of the situation ... and the man.
The ride across town seemed exceptionally long, but Jo Ann took advantage of the time to form her story and structure it to her own best advantage. No need to remind him or emphasize the fact that she was drunk, Jo Ann decided. It would be enough to tell Stan that she had been attacked. If Stan was any sort of a gentleman, he would realize that if it hadn't been for his upsetting her, Jo Ann wouldn't have been out on the street alone in the first place. And then the guilt should take over and block out any hard feelings he might have been harboring about her actions. It was all very pat. She couldn't miss.
But she did.
As Jo Ann came to the end of her story, she looked in vain for some kind of expression on Stan's face to tell her that she had evoked the desired reaction. There was none. He sat dead pan and smoking while she talked. And then, when she had finished, there was only silence between them.
"Well, don't you have anything to say?" Jo Ann asked finally, when the lull in conversation threatened to smother the last of her self-control.
"What am I supposed to say?" Stan's voice was flat and unsympathetic. "That I'm sorry? Okay, I am. But that doesn't change what's happened."
"Thanks loads." Jo Ann felt the anger rising inside her and fought not to lose her temper. What was the matter with that man, she wondered from behind narrowed eyes. Didn't he have any feelings? Didn't he care anymore?
"Look, this is pretty much all your fault, you know," Stan snapped. "Who told you to go tearing out of here anyway? None of this would have happened if you had stayed..."
"No, not in the park, anyway." Jo Ann felt the words fly from her lips before she could stop them. "You could have performed your own private little rape in the comfort of your own apartment."
"Well, if that's the way you feel, the hell with you." Stan ground out his cigarette and stormed over to the bar.
Jo Ann fumed silently in her chair and looked for the excuse that would mitigate what she had just said. There was none. She had meant every word.
"Would you fix me one, too?" Jo Ann heard the meekness in her tone and hated herself for it. Yet she knew that, despite all her other feelings, she had to make up with Stan. Her original approach had failed. She must come up with another one ... and fast.
Stan pulled a second glass from the cabinet without saying anything. From where she sat, Jo Ann could see the tight set of his jaw ... the thin line of his mouth. He was mad. Very mad. And only one thing, she knew, could alter his mood.
"Can't you even understand a little?" Jo Ann pleaded, hoping desperately that she wouldn't have to make that one sacrifice to get him back.
"I understand that I've wasted a hell of a lot of time on you," Stan growled, turning back toward Jo Ann with a glass in each hand. "Frankly, I don't think it was worth the effort."
Jo Ann accepted the drink with trembling fingers and tried not to shudder at the first taste of the liquor. She was getting no place fast, she knew. Everything she wanted to say was coming out wrong and making the situation worse between them. Better just to shut up, until she knew she would say the right thing.
The silence lengthened into an uncomfortable barrier between them. Jo Ann drank faster as the feeling of desperation intensified within her. She felt trapped. Helpless. And totally unable to correct the damage she had done.
"Maybe you'd prefer that I just left," Jo Ann said, desperate to open the channels of communication between them again. Even at the risk of another argument ... or worse, Stan's agreement. , "You can do whatever you want," Stan said without looking at her.
"I don't see what you're so angry about," Jo Ann seized the opportunity to keep him talking. "I'm the one who got all messed up."
"And I'm the one who's been taken for one large sucker," Stan yelled, slamming his glass down on the table and storming across the room to the window.
"The least you could do is offer a little sympathy," Jo Ann's voice came out hoarse. On the surface she was still fighting, but deep down inside, she knew she had already lost the battle. It was too late. Stan just didn't give a damn anymore.
"What good would sympathy do?" Stan continued to stare down at the street. "Besides, I didn't think I was dealing with an immature kid."
Jo Ann jumped up out of the chair and hurried over to stand in back of him. "And you expect me to sleep with you?" she hissed. "You can't even make it as a friend, let alone as a lover."
"What would you know about friends?" Stan's voice was equally venomous. "All you think of is your precious virginity. like yours was the only one left."
"Thank goodness I found out what you're really like now," Jo Ann turned on her heel and headed toward the door. "Even Laura was more understanding about the whole thing than you are."
"That figures." Stan's tone suddenly changed to one of cruel amusement.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Jo Ann sensed the presence of a meaning that apparently had escaped her.
"How close are you and Laura?" Stan asked. "Close enough." Jo Ann waited to hear what else he had to say.
"Then you should know what I'm talking about." Stan didn't bother to hide his smile as he turned around and walked back to the sofa.
"Well, I don't know," Jo Ann said. "And I'm not sure I really care to."
"Maybe you've found out already." Stan's voice was baiting, mocking. "Maybe that's even the real reason why you didn't want to go to bed with me."
Jo Ann stared at him for a few moments without answering, as the realization of what Stan was implying occurred to her. "You bastard," she yelled, suddenly despising him. That Stan could sink to such a rotten tactic to soothe his wounded ego was less than she had expected of him. Much less. And suddenly, the alienation of his affections didn't seem like so much of a loss.
The slam of the apartment door resounded behind her. Jo Ann didn't bother to wait for the elevator, but hurried toward the staircase and ran all the way down to the first floor.
It had become dark by the time she returned to the street. Jo Ann turned the corner and moved quickly, anxious to get as far away from Stanley Wyatt as she possibly could. Far away from his lack of understanding, from his lack of ethics, and from his lack of love.
By the time she reached the corner, her pace had slowed and her anger had mellowed to hurt. Tonight, she was sober. Tonight, she felt the cold.
And tonight, she didn't want to be alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The streets of Greenwich Village were crowded with loud, boisterous high school kids when Jo Ann got off the Fifth Avenue bus and started walking west. Hunching her shoulders against the cold, Jo Ann plodded through the crowd, oblivious to the laughter, oblivious to the happy spirits around her. She was miserable. And nothing could distract her from her thoughts.
He was a louse, Jo Ann told herself again. A no-good, unfeeling, inhuman louse. It was well she was rid of him. Men like Stan weren't worth the ground they walked on. Inconsiderate. Common. Selfish.
And already, she missed him terribly.
Mind over matter, Jo Ann encouraged herself, sidestepping an amorous drunk and crossing the street. She had managed without Stan before he came into her life. She would do just fine again, now that he was gone. One more mistake in her life to chalk up to experience and get over. She could do it ... but it wasn't going to be easy.
She would quit her job and start all over again, Jo Ann told herself, building momentum as she walked. There were other jobs in New York ... and other men. She wasn't old. Nobody else knew what had happened to her, except Laura. She could find work ... and a husband.
The memory of pounding the streets from employment agency to employment agency knocked some of the enthusiasm out of her plans and slowed Jo Ann's rate of thinking. This time of the year wasn't a good time to go job hunting, she knew. Offices were filled. Openings were scarce. And Laura, her one real friend in the whole city, wouldn't be there, working in the same office with her.
The memory of what Stan had said about Laura fired Jo Ann's anger and made her shake her head' in amazement. How could he, she asked herself. He was burned up because she didn't go to bed with him. Fine. Maybe Stan had also been annoyed that Jo Ann didn't return to his apartment when it was all over. Well, that was fine, too. But to come out and accuse Laura of being queer, just because she had showed Jo Ann some simple, human kindness ... that was unforgivable. Stan was the one who was warped. Anybody who could think like that had to be. Jo Ann considered herself lucky to be rid of him ... and tried as hard as she could to believe it.
The neon lights of the bar on the corner blinked their invitation as Jo Ann approached them. Yielding to an impulse, she ducked through the doorway and down a narrow flight of stairs into a dimly lit room.
The Avant-Garde lounge was dismal and smoky. Jo Ann paused for a moment while her eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom before proceeding toward a high-backed stool. Climbing onto it, she rubbed her icy fingers and waited for the bartender to notice her.
"What'll it be, babe?"
Jo Ann looked up past the dirty turtle neck sweater to the beard and then into two beady eyes. "Scotch," she ordered automatically, unable to endure the intense stare of the man with the crooked smile.
He shuffled away toward a shelf filled with bottles and Jo Ann reached quickly for a cigarette. She was sorry she had come into the place. One drink, she promised herself. Only one drink. And then she would be on her way.
"Here ya go." The bartender slid the shot glass dangerously close to Jo Ann's elbow and then sent a tumbler of water slipping after it.
Jo Ann smiled her thanks and lifted the glass to her lips. Wincing at the terrible taste, she replaced her drink on the bar and took a deep drag on the cigarette to kill the flavor.
Glancing to her right, Jo Ann watched as the shadows crystallized into human shapes around the room. It seemed to her that everyone was dressed for a funeral, in blacks and dark, dark greens. How depressing, she told herself, that people should have to wile away a perfectly good evening in a dismal joint like this one. That people should have to hide from the world in hazy states of drunkenness...
That people should have to do what she, herself, was doing at that very moment.
The awareness seemed to rip right through her body and set it quivering before the truth. Hurrying to the bottom of her drink, Jo Ann raised her hand to get the bartender's attention. He returned a few minutes later, carrying a refill in his hand.
"No more for me, thanks." Jo Ann reached into her pocket for some money. The faster she could get out of that grimy cellar and back to her senses, the better she knew she could feel.
"You can't refuse this, babe. It's a present."
"What?" Jo Ann stared back into the crooked smile, certain that she had heard incorrectly.
"That's right. The man over there," he pointed to a thin figure hunched over the corner of the bar.
Jo Ann didn't know what to say. "Thanks ... I guess," she finally muttered, convinced that she had no choice, really, but to accept.
The bartender disappeared again, leaving Jo Ann alone with her curiosity and her second shot of bad scotch.
"You don't really have to drink it, if you don't want to." The voice was right beside her ear. "I was just looking for an excuse to say hello."
Jo Ann turned and looked down into the smiling face of the man who had just been at the end of the bar. Amazed at his speed in reaching her, she returned his smile and lifted the glass tentatively toward her mouth. "Thank you for sending this over," she stammered, not wanting to insult the stranger, but not knowing how to refuse without seeming impolite.
"It's rotten booze anyway," the man continued, as if he hadn't heard her. "That's the only kind they have here."
Jo Ann quickly turned away from the man and pretended to give her full attention to finishing the drink. He didn't have to say any more. She knew what was on his mind. It was written all over his face ... that same look she had seen on Stan ... that same desire mirrored in the eyes of the boys in the park ... that same repulsive, animal lust.
Gulping and choking, Jo Ann downed the shot and propelled herself off the barstool. Without looking to see if the man was following her, she raced up the stairs and back out into the street where it was crowded. Once outside, she kept on running and didn't stop until she was safely in the hallway of Laura's apartment house.
The sound of the doorbell echoed through the apartment. Jo Ann stood breathing heavily and listened to the welcome sound of footsteps, hurrying toward her from the other side of the door.
"Welcome back, stranger." Laura's grin was broad and genuine. "I never expected to see you so soon."
"Don't joke." Jo Ann hurried inside and locked the door behind her. "I'm all messed up."
"What, again?"
Jo Ann smiled despite herself at Laura's obvious attempt at humor. "Well, not the same kind of mess this time," Jo Ann said. "Thank goodness, this time I'm still all in one piece."
"I'll second that," Laura cracked, plopping herself onto the couch and lifting a half-filled glass of rye and ginger. "Want some?"
"No thanks. I've just finished two." Laura pulled off her coat and tossed it into a sling chair. "You'd think I'd know enough not to drink, after the other night."
"Few of us ever learn from experience," Laura said, her eyes reflecting a momentary private thought. "What's up this time?"
"Stan and I are all finished," Jo Ann announced seriously.
"Should I say I'm sorry ... or congratulations?" Laura didn't seem at all shocked.
"I haven't decided yet." Jo Ann sat down and slipped off her sneakers. "We just had a pretty stinking scene."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not yet." Jo Ann knew very well why she had said that. She was dying to talk about it. Advice was what she needed most ... advice from someone older and wiser than herself. Somebody like Laura. But she wasn't all that ready to hurt her friend's feelings again, by telling her what Stan had said. It was enough for awhile just to sit and enjoy the warmth and comfort of Laura's patient presence.
"All right, then ... what shall we talk about?" Laura asked, finishing her drink and setting her glass down a little too heavily on the end table to appear completely sober.
"I don't know if I really want to talk at all," Jo Ann said, as a sudden feeling of fatigue drained the life from her limbs.
"Well, if we can't drink and we can't talk, what's left?" Laura smiled impishly and cocked her head to one side.
Jo Ann avoided the question by hoisting.her legs over the side of the chair and gazing off in another direction. "Do you think all men are the same underneath?" she asked, as a persistent, nagging fear threatened to overwhelm her once more.
"Underneath what?" Laura's voice sounded uneven, almost unreal.
"Laura, are you drunk?" Jo Ann turned quickly back to the woman and stared at her.
"Not yet." Laura smiled and lifted herself off the sofa. "But it sounds like a damned good idea. Care to join me? Or did I already ask you that?"
"All right, but make it a weak one," Jo Ann said to be sociable. No harm in a little drink in the privacy of a friend's apartment. There was no danger here. Only the danger of too much thinking.
Jo Ann sipped the highball slowly, relieved that it's taste was pleasantly sweeter than she had expected.
"Now, where were we?" Laura asked, when she had settled again on the couch with a fresh drink. "Oh, yes. Cruel, cruel male animals. Aren't they just awful?"
From Laura's sarcastic tone, Jo Ann couldn't be sure whether her friend was being the least bit sincere in her words. Needing, however, to talk, Jo Ann ignored the possibility that Laura was making fun of her and continued. "You think you know a guy," she said. "And then, when the showdown comes, he turns out to be a complete stranger. Does that make sense to you, Laura?"
"Perfect sense." Laura turned dead serious suddenly. "I learned that little secret a long time ago, my dear child. Stinks, doesn't it?"
"That's for sure," Jo Ann agreed wholeheartedly, somewhat relieved to know that she wasn't unique in her new, disquieting sentiments.
A thoughtful smile suddenly appeared to brighten Laura's features. "You know," she said, her eyes twinkling, "you remind me a lot of my brother Charlie."
"How's that?" Jo Ann asked.
"He's a lot like you," Laura said. "Always getting disillusioned about people he thought were so great. You two really should meet each other."
"A fine pair of losers, huh?" Jo Ann said softly.
"Sensitive would be a better word for it," Laura corrected her. "Yes, you and Charlie, two gullible, sensitive dopes."
Jo Ann sipped her drink, amazed that she wasn't feeling particularly tragic anymore. Laura had fixed things, of course. The woman had shown Jo Ann by her casual attitude that a fight with Stan didn't mean the end of the world. People have fights every day. Women learn the truth about men ... the wrong kind of men ... and survive, despite bruised feelings.
"Thanks," Jo Ann whispered, amused that her earth-shattering problem just seemed to dissolve in the presence of Laura's experience and realism.
"Thanks for what?" Laura asked, looking as if she were trying to follow the feverish, unspoken workings of Jo Ann's thought process.
"I expected to be shattered for at least two hours," Jo Ann chuckled at what now appeared to have been nothing worse than a lucky break for her. "When I left Stan's place, I felt like the end of the world was right before me.
"Why, for goodness sake? He's not the only person left in the world."
"I thought he was." Jo Ann's voice softened with embarrassment. "He did a damned good job of getting me riled up, though."
"Why?" Laura asked. "You don't honestly believe that Stan Wyatt is so different from the rest of the men in New York, do you?"
"I don't know." Jo Ann felt the embarrassment showing in her sheepish smile. "I guess there are lots of things I don't know, huh?"
"That I'll agree with." Laura swallowed another mouthful of her drink and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "What could Stan have said that shook you up so?"
"It's not so much what he said, but what he didn't say," Jo Ann answered.
"You just lost me." Laura leaned forward and knotted her forehead in concentration. "Either he said something or he didn't. Which was it?"
"I suppose I expected more sympathy than I got from him," Jo Ann said. "You know, about what happened in the park."
"Forget it." Laura leaned back and nodded with sudden understanding. "Don't you know that each guy wants to be your first? The thought that someone else beat them to it is like a splinter where you can't pull."
"But he knew that...."
"Makes no difference," Laura interrupted Jo Ann's attempt at logic. "It wasn't him ... that's the problem."
"You'd think he could at least be gentle about the whole thing. The way he carried on, you'd think I invited it."
"No comment." Laura looked over at her empty glass and then back to Jo Ann. "Was that all that got you so hot under the collar?"
Jo Ann hesitated, unsure whether it would be wise to tell Laura the rest of Stan's conversation.
"C'mon, c'mon," Laura coaxed after a few moments of intense silence. "What else did Prince Charming say?"
"Well..." Jo Ann felt her throat tighten as though to hold back the words she didn't really want to say.
"Out with it," Laura pressed. "I don't mind a little dirty language, if that's what you're stalling about."
"It was about you." Jo Ann was sorry for the words, but it was too late.
"What about me?" Laura leaned forward again, her expression a mixture of concern and caution.
"Why don't we drop it? He was just being a nasty liar."
"What about me?" Laura's tone was a command now. "Well, he said you weren't very nice."
"More than just that, I'll bet."
Jo Ann looked over at Laura before continuing. There was no getting out of it now, she knew. The truth had to be spoken. She had gone too far to back out now. "He said you were a ... a lesbian."
Laura's belly laugh rose and filled the room and then suddenly died a short, gasping death.
"Did you ever hear anything so preposterous?"
"It's not so preposterous." Laura ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek and smiled bitterly. "Not at all."
"Of course it is," Jo Ann protested loudly. "Why in the world should he come out with a dig like that?"
"Simple," Laura said. She raised her glass and sighed. "It's true."
Jo Ann's jaw fell open and didn't close until Laura had stood up to get herself another drink.
Then, still flabbergasted, she emptied her own glass and reached for the open bottle of rye on the table.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Come on, now. You don't have to turn yourself into an alcoholic over it." Laura closed her hand gently over Jo Ann's and coaxed the bottle from her shaky grasp.
Jo Ann looked away and remained silent, unable to face Laura, unable to think of anything to say. The temporary lapse of tension she had been so glad for was gone now. Her mind churned with a thousand unanswered questions, a thousand unvoiced fears. She felt stunned, lost ... unsure of whom to trust and what to feel. Stan hadn't been lying after all. Laura had just admitted that. What was left now, Jo Ann wondered.
"What's the matter, Jo Ann?" A slight trace of hurt began to make itself heard in Laura's timid tone. "Did I suddenly grow horns or something?"
"Of course not," Jo Ann answered quickly, hoping that she sounded sincere, wishing she wasn't as naive as she knew herself to be. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all."
"You'll get over that." Laura leaned back and smiled wryly. "I'm not the only one in New York, you know."
Jo Ann sat very still, listening to the sounds of traffic outside and wondering what time it was. Suddenly she felt too tired ... and very alone. "I'm sorry," she offered finally. "This has just been one hell of a week for
"Then take it easy." Laura patted her knee. "You'll be gray before you're thirty, if you let every little thing get the better of you."
"I suppose you're right." Jo Ann forced a smile for Laura's benefit and tried to relax. "Do you mind if I have that drink now? I won't make it a habit, I promise."
"Of course." Laura lifted the bottle and poured a stiff shot into Jo Ann's glass. "Ice?"
"No thanks." She wished there were some way for her to be alone for awhile, without insulting Laura. She needed to think, to plan ... to organize the shredded fragments of her life back into some semblance of logic and order. So much had happened so quickly, she thought. And despite her desire to be sophisticated about it all, Jo Ann could not deny a definite desire to pack a bag and catch the first train back home to Bootesburg.
"Enough of this gloominess." Laura stood up, stretched and slid her feet back into a pair of loafers. "How about some supper?"
Jo Ann popped out of her daydreaming just long enough to answer. "I don't feel much like seeing a lot of people," she said. "Couldn't we just stay here quietly, like we are?"
"All right." Laura smoothed her palms down along the creases in her slacks. "I'll run down to the delicatessen and get some sandwich fixings, if you like. It won't take more than ten or fifteen minutes. In the meantime, try to relax, will you?"
Jo Ann smiled and silently thanked Laura for being so understanding. But then, how much insight did it take for someone to see that she was upset and confused, Jo Ann thought. Nevertheless, she felt grateful for the much needed solitude she was about to receive.
The sound of Laura's footsteps faded down the stairs. Jo Ann glanced furtively toward the door and then leaned over to pour herself another drink. Promise or no promise, tonight she needed the courage that the scotch gave her. It might be easy for Laura to accept a state of crisis with a smile, Jo Ann told herself, sipping the liquid and enjoying the warmth it spread through her quivering insides. Laura had been around New York for a long time. Jo Ann, on the other hand, was not so well insulated against the perils and surprises of the big city. Maybe, in time, she could learn...
And Laura could help her, no doubt about that. Jo Ann took another sip and remembered to recap the bottle. As she thought about her relationship with Laura, in the light of what she had just learned about the girl, Jo Ann realized that she was playing with fire. Still, the game had its advantages. Laura was the only real friend she had in the city. To sever their friendship now, Jo Ann knew, would mean an indefinite period of being alone. No one to talk to ... no one to confide in when things got too confusing to figure out. No, she would stick around, Jo Ann decided. This was no time to condemn others.
The minutes seemed to stretch endlessly, until Jo Ann found herself pouring another drink. She felt pleased that the liquor was doing its job. The edge was gone from her nervousness. The fever-pitch of fear had lowered. And for no good reason that she could put her finger on, Jo Ann felt that somehow, some way, everything was going to turn out all right with Laura around. For, whatever else the woman might be, she was sincere and that was the most important thing of all. She wouldn't let Jo Ann down, the way Stan had. She would always be there to sympathize and to help.
And suddenly Jo Ann knew that she needed Laura now ... as badly as she had needed Stan. Maybe even more so.
"Thought I was going to let you starve, didn't you?"
Laura burst through the doorway, laden with overstuffed paper bags.
"Here, let me help you with those." Jo Ann jumped out of her chair and crossed the room on unsteady legs.
"I think you'd better just sit down and watch." Laura chuckled at the sight of Jo Ann's condition and shook her head. "I've met dames before who couldn't hold their liquor, but you are by far the worst."
Jo Ann laughed too, glad that Laura wasn't angry with her. Retreating to the chair, she sat and watched Laura, who was grinning over her mysterious purchases.
"I decided that plain old sandwiches weren't enough for tonight, so I splurged." Laura began to pull smaller bags and wrapped foods into view. "We've got a little of everything that was ever cooked, smoked or bottled."
Jo Ann felt her spirits soar, despite the unimportance of anything like food. Someone was paying attention to her and that, she knew, was the secret of feeling good. Tucking her bare feet up under her, she continued to watch Laura's animated preparations. "Are you sure I can't help with something?" she said, not really wanting to budge from her comfortable position, but feeling a little sorry for Laura amid the total disarray on the table.
"Don't be silly. I'm having a ball," Laura called back, waving Jo Ann off with a swift movement of her hand. "Just give me five minutes and everything will be ready."
"How about a drink?" Jo Ann said, needing to participate even in some small way in the sudden festivities.
"All right." Laura nodded absently as she arranged a plate of imported cheeses and hunted through a drawer for a knife.
Jo Ann poured the liquor into Laura's glass and waited for Laura to finish unwrapping a package of cold cuts. Despite the addled state of her brain, Jo Ann felt herself being caught up in Laura's enthusiasm and genuinely looking forward to sampling the strange delicacies she saw before her. With Stan, it had always been Chinese food or steak. Now, the sight of black caviar was a welcome change.
"All set," Laura announced and took the glass that Jo Ann was still holding.
"Looks delicious." Jo Ann took her seat at the table and surveyed the food.
"Don't just look," Laura said with an amused tone. "Taste."
"What's that?" Jo Ann asked, pointing to a strange looking vegetable.
"Artichoke hearts, dopey." Laura shook her head. "Haven't you ever eaten them before?"
Jo Ann colored and reached her fork over to take a piece. Again, she felt so inexperienced beside Laura. But all of that would soon go, she promised herself. She would learn. Everything. And perhaps, with Laura's help, she would stop being such a child.
"Say, that's not bad at all." Jo Ann finished her portion and took some more.
While Jo Ann was happily engaged in sampling the new foods, Laura took a bottle of chianti out of the refrigerator and reached into a cabinet for two long stemmed glasses. "As long as we're being so damned continental, we might as well go all the way," she said, returning to the table and placing the bottle before Jo Ann.
"After scotch?" Jo Ann looked from Laura to the bottle and back again.
"You won't know the difference, once it's inside you." Laura pulled the cork and began to pour. "Besides, you're already too far gone to be saved."
"You're right," Jo Ann agreed wholeheartedly. She was too far gone, she knew. Too far gone and too mixed up. All she wanted now was somebody to share something with. Anything. Anybody, who could save her from feeling abandoned and estranged from the rest of the world. And Laura, Jo Ann felt, was just the person to help her out. Without another word, she raised the wine glass to her lips.
When she had drained the last drop of the red wine, Jo Ann put down her napkin and excused herself from the table. She was drunk, she knew, but she didn't care. At last she felt free. Free from concern, free from responsibility. And free from anything that might prevent her from finally looking out for her own best interests.
She had been a dope, Jo Ann told herself while Laura finished her dinner. An absolute fool to allow Stan to wrap her around his little finger and then toss her away. She should have seen through him a year ago. He had never cared about her, really. All he cared about was himself.
But not Laura. Laura was different. Stealing a peak across the room, Jo Ann wondered why she had been so shocked, almost appalled, to find out that Laura was a lesbian. So what, she told herself angrily. It was time to cast aside the old world mores. Wasn't that precisely what she had left Bootesburg to do? And now, the first time she had come across something they didn't have back home, she had balked.
No more, Jo Ann decided. She would be cool, suave, cosmopolitan. Laura was a woman, just like herself. Perhaps with different interests, but not so far removed as to necessitate a feeling of discomfort. Jo Ann had acted like a scared kid. Somehow, she would have to show Laura that she was above such petty discriminations.
"Why don't you finish your wine in here with me?" Jo Ann called in what she imagined to be a light, pleasant tone of voice.
"Sure." Laura took her glass and left the table immediately. "I thought maybe you had sunk into one of your dark, thinking moods again."
"That's all over with," Jo Ann announced too vehemently. "Just forget the way I acted before. I'm fine now."
"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that." Laura wore a patronizing look as she made herself comfortable on the far side of the sofa.
"You don't have to sit all the way over there," Jo Ann said, wondering where the floor had suddenly gone to ... and why her shoes felt as though they had helium in them. "I know you're not going to bite."
"My goodness," Laura said, moving closer, "what happened to you all of a sudden?"
"Knowledge, my dear. It does wonders." Jo Ann mocked an overly-regal tone. "Today I learned the truth about Stan and the truth about you ... and none of it bothers me in the least."
"Of course not," Laura nodded without belief and reached for a cigarette. "Would you like to smoke while you're forgiving the world for its sins?"
"That's not fair." Jo Ann heard the sudden rise in pitch of her own voice as the anger flared within her. "I'm sick of acting like a child. And I wish you wouldn't treat me like one, either."
"Oh, pardon me," Laura murmured, obviously stifling a laugh. "Now, what would the terribly adult Miss Mason like to do this evening? Movies? Television? Just name it."
For a moment, Jo Ann considered going out, but the thought of the weekend crowds, with all that liquor inside her, convinced her to shake her head no. "I'd rather stay home with you ... just the two of us," she said.
Laura's features converged, for a moment, into an expression of curiosity. Then she walked across the room and snapped on the television. "What would you like to watch?"
"Anything ... just anything." Jo Ann leaned back against the sofa and fought to keep her eyes open. The woozy feeling in her head was coming on fast and getting stronger with each passing moment. She felt glad she hadn't tried to go out.
The television screen blurred and Jo Ann looked away. She fought the urge to doze, aware of Laura right beside her on the couch and not wanting to be rude. Somehow, the day seemed to have slipped away from her. It was over ... yet she could not go to sleep for awhile. There was nothing more to be done, and yet nothing at all had been accomplished. Jo Ann seemed to hang in suspended animation, trusting completely in Laura ... devoid of a will of her own...
And then, she slept.
The sound of the newscaster was somewhere off beyond the realm of conscious attention. Jo Ann wrinkled her nose at the persistent irritation of his stacatto voice and rolled over. Beneath her head she felt something warm ... something soft. Laura's lap. She smiled, glad that her friend hadn't gone away.
"Are you awake yet?" a soft voice whispered above her.
Jo Ann nodded and yawned. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't budge. Then the combination of softness and warmth took over and drew Jo Ann back to finish the dream she had started.
The next thing she heard was the click of the television being turned off ... and then silence. She listened for something familiar, but nothing came. Only silence. And then, slow, careful footsteps in her direction.
"Jo Ann? Jo Ann, wake up."
Jo Ann recognized the velvet voice. It was Laura. She yawned. "Jo Ann, it's one o'clock."
"So turn back the clock." Jo Ann yawned again, unwilling to allow anything to disturb her. She was too comfortable, too warm. And she liked just lying still, with someone close beside her.
"Jo Ann, do you want to sleep here?"
"Urn hmm." Jo Ann wrinkled her nose. Invitation accepted ... gladly.
"Then let me make the bed. Just get up for a minute."
Begrudgingly, Jo Ann pulled herself to her feet and allowed Laura to guide her to a nearby chair. Curling herself up between its arms, she fell quickly back to sleep.
"Come on now. The bed's made."
Automatically, Jo Ann stood up and walked until she felt something press against her shins. She knew it was the mattress. Opening her eyes only long enough to get her bearings, she lay down quickly and dove for the blessed darkness beneath the pillow.
"Jo Ann, you can't sleep with all your clothes on."
"Oh, yes I can," Jo Ann mumbled almost incoherently. She was beginning to feel slightly annoyed. Her sweet state of semi-consciousness had been threatened and interrupted too much. Soon she would wake up completely and she didn't want that. With morning, she knew, there would be a hangover to greet her. Tomorrow for hangovers and problems, Jo Ann thought. Right now she wanted more sleep and nothing else.
"Let me help you ... I've got pajamas you can wear ... come on, now."
Jo Ann yielded to the insistent pressure of Laura's fingers, tugging at her shoulder. Rolling onto her back, she pressed her eyelids tighter together and wished the overhead light would blow itself to bits.
"Light bothering you?" Laura seemed to have read Jo Ann's thoughts.
Jo Ann nodded and smiled as she heard Laura move to the wall. A moment later, a welcome blackness returned and Jo Ann relaxed once more.
"Let's get rid of the sweater first, huh?" Laura spoke as she would to a child.
Jo Ann nodded without opening her eyes. It felt so good to lie on cool sheets, so good to be catered to by someone who obviously had more control of her faculties than Jo Ann. As the top button of the sweater came open, she sighed happily. She was safe again. Laura was taking care of her.
The cold air hitting the tops of Jo Ann's breasts brought sudden awareness. The sweater was gone, she could feel that ... and hands were fighting with the zipper on her slacks.
Jo Ann raised her hips and allowed the lastex to be slipped down to her ankles and then away. A hand reached up for her brassiere ... a needle of excitement flashed down her flesh.
Jo Ann. moved her legs over the sheet as Laura's hands reached around for the clasp on her bra.
"You'll have to help me and roll over," Laura said, sounding slightly out of breath.
"It's hiding," Jo Ann giggled ... and didn't move.
Laura sighed and moved closer. "Remind me not to feed you anything but milk from now on," she said, reaching around to Jo Ann's back.
Jo Ann felt the closeness of another body and responded automatically. Despite the sleepy haze that surrounded her brain, she became aware of something ... something pleasurable beginning to happen to her. For a moment, she couldn't figure out why it had begun. But then she realized. Laura's arms were around her. Sweet Laura. Laura, her dear friend.
Without stopping to think, Jo Ann reached up toward the warm flesh above her and pulled it close.
"Watch that now," Laura's voice was almost sharp as she forced Jo Ann's quivering hands back to the sheet and pulled herself away. "We don't want to have any casualties tonight, do we?"
Jo Ann sensed an unspoken threat in the sudden separation of bodies that Laura had induced. It wasn't fair for her friend to pull away ... not tonight. Not when she needed so badly to be held, consoled, pampered.
"Come on, let me get rid of the rest of those clothes," Laura sounded slightly winded and impatient.
Without a word, Jo Ann rolled over and lay very still while her brassiere was unhooked. She felt the beginnings of desire throb through her breasts and she tried to fight it. But she knew it was no use. Something inside her, something urgent and undeniable was screaming for attention, commanding Jo Ann to seek a way of fulfillment and comfort. The means or the partner weren't important. All that mattered was that she quiet the growing need within her ... and quickly.
"Okay, now let's try to get the pajama top on."
Jo Ann was only vaguely aware of Laura's voice as she rolled over onto her back again and stretched her arms into the air. She knew the room was dark and the awareness lent a feeling of safety. Laura couldn't see her face ... she couldn't possibly be witnessing the need Jo Ann knew would be apparent there, if the light had been on. No matter what happened, Laura would think it was because Jo Ann was drunk. A perfect excuse.
Jo Ann purposely made it impossible for Laura to get the sleeve of the pajamas over her arm. A few minutes later, she heard her friend sigh and lean back against the mattress.
"Okay," Laura conceded, as though talking to herself. "Looks like there'll be no pajamas tonight."
Jo Ann smiled into the darkness. So far so good. Now, if Laura would only hurry and crawl under the covers.
The sounds of Laura getting undressed threatened to go on forever. Jo Ann lay very still, pretending to be asleep and hoping her friend would hurry and come back to bed. Her body ached with the need to be touched again ... fondled, caressed, satisfied. She wasn't alone in the bed ... at least she wouldn't be for long. And that knowledge was enough to make her tremble with expectancy.
The far side of the mattress dipped beneath Laura's weight. Jo Ann waited for her to get completely under the quilt before she rolled over ... right into Laura's arms.
"What's all this?" The astonishment was clear in Laura's voice.
Jo Ann didn't answer, but kept her eyes closed and hugged Laura tightly. She could smell the sweet scent of the woman's flesh and suddenly she became aware of the fact that Laura wasn't wearing pajamas either. A firm breast pressed against Jo Ann's shoulder. She snuggled closer, waiting to feel some response from the woman beside her.
Laura tried to edge away across the bed, but Jo Ann held her tighter. She could hear the woman's breathing grow shallow and more rapid. Good, Jo Ann told herself. At least she wasn't resisting.
"Come on, honey. You don't know what you're doing," Laura whispered as Jo Ann wrapped her legs about Laura and squeezed them tight.
Jo Ann took a deep breath and hoped that Laura was still fooled by her pretense of sleep. It was almost impossible for her to he still now.
Jo Ann felt Laura stiffen and pull away as her fingers reached up to fondle the woman's breasts. How long was Laura just going to He there like that, Jo Ann wondered, as her own aroused desire threatened to explode and crush her body.
"Please." Laura's voice was hardly audible as she tried to move Jo Ann's hand away. "Please, baby, don't."
Jo Ann's need heightened at the sound of Laura's attempt to refuse her. Now it had become a challenge, a strange new game. And Jo Ann swore to herself that she would win.
With movements calculated to inflame, Jo Ann squirmed against Laura's naked body and listened to the woman sigh. Her flesh was warm and moist and it felt good against Jo Ann's.
Suddenly Laura's hand began to move and Jo Ann smiled. Now it was going to happen. Soon, she would know what it meant to be satisfied.
Rolling flat onto her back, Jo Ann allowed Laura to touch her breasts. Beneath the woman's expert touch, Jo Ann's flesh sprang to erect, quivering points of life, to be fondled and kissed.
A glistening film of perspiration broke out to dampen Jo Ann's body and chill her. Pulling the quilt up to her chin, she moved a little closer toward Laura, anxious to feel the warmth she knew was there ... anxious to find peace and contentment through the workings of Laura's tender fingers.
The fingers crept slowly down over Jo Ann's naked belly and stopped there for a moment. Jo Ann tried to wait, but she couldn't. Reaching down, she pressed Laura's hand further along the path of pleasure, until the contact was complete and fulfillment was assured.
"We shouldn't, Jo Ann ... we shouldn't," Laura's voice rasped from somewhere in the darkness.
Lost in her climb toward release, Jo Ann ignored Laura's words. Writhing beneath Laura's hand, she drove herself faster ... harder ... then suddenly, the delicious contact was completely withdrawn.
Before Jo Ann could protest, warm lips covered her own and rendered her silent. The tip of a tongue darted between her teeth and revolved inside her mouth.
Jo Ann reached around to the nape of Laura's neck and buried her fingers in the smooth, lacy hair. Her body was on fire and she fought not to throw Laura onto her back and crawl on top of her. Jo Ann felt lost ... she didn't know what to do now. They had gone as far as her imagination had permitted. And the rest, she knew, was up to Laura.
As if sensing Jo Ann's pleas for guidance, Laura ended the kiss and placed her mouth at the edge of Jo Ann's shoulder. Slowly, lovingly, she kissed her way toward the hollow of Jo Ann's throat and then down to the yielding softness of her breasts.
Jo Ann took a deep breath as her body tingled with a happy new sensation. She raised herself slightly toward Laura as the woman continued to move downward...
A gasp tore loose from Jo Ann's throat. Instinctively, she raised her hips and sought to release the pressure that was driving her wild.
Laura's hands guided her into a slow, sensuous rhythm and Jo Ann fought to maintain it. Inside her skull, drums were pounding and she could no longer think. This was something she had never known ... never even guessed at. She could practically feel the blood coursing through her temples as that inevitable moment neared.
Reaching down along her own moist flesh, Jo Ann buried her fingers in Laura's hair and hung on as a reflexive spasm started in her limbs and set her body thrashing amid a hurricane of completion. It seemed to go on endlessly, churning, quaking, ripping the last of her strength from her body...
And then, sighing, relaxing, she began the slow, quiet descent back toward reality and awareness. She felt Laura move up toward the pillow. But now, she didn't care. She was calm again. Peaceful.
And the whys and wherefores of her strange actions could wait until tomorrow to be explored.
CHAPTER NINE
Friday again. Coffee break time.
Jo Ann turned off the electric typewriter and slid her chair back from the desk. The week seemed to have flown. Whizzed by without her. But despite her disoriented state, she realized that today was a week. A week that she had been living with Laura ... as her lover.
The awareness chilled her and Jo Ann tried to think about something else. She had been avoiding the truth, she knew. Avoiding it and making excuses to herself for her unnatural actions. Yet, she knew of nothing else to do ... nothing else she felt she could do. Laura had saved her, when she needed to be saved. She couldn't just run out on the woman now. Trapped or otherwise, Jo Ann felt that she had to stay. At least until something better came along.
The deep, resonant voice on the other side of the glass door reached her ears and urged Jo Ann quickly to her feet. A great deal of time during the past week had been devoted to avoiding Stan. She had done a pretty good job of it, too, Jo Ann reminded herself proudly. Another two hours and she could put him out of her mind for an entire weekend. Or at least not have to see him every hour.
"Bastard," Jo Ann muttered to herself on her way to the employees' lounge. Stan had done a pretty good job of staying cool himself. She didn't mind that he had stopped saying good morning to her and that he practically ignored her when they were within speaking distance of each other. But when he started farming his dictation out to the other girls in the office, Jo Ann knew that the tension was obvious to everyone. Luckily for her, the other girls had the tact not to ask any questions. But they were talking, Jo Ann knew. Gossiping and speculating as to the probable reasons behind her losing favor in Mister Wyatt's eyes.
The hell with them, Jo Ann decided, pushing open the lounge door and stepping inside. If the situation got too uncomfortable for her, she would just quit and get another job. Laura would take care of her until the money started coming in again. Yes, Laura would take better care of her than Stan ever had.
The atmosphere in the lounge grew abruptly thick with strain as a noticeable silence pervaded the room. Jo Ann stood off in a corner, sipping coffee and trying to ignore the furtive glances of the other girls from her department. What were they staring at, she wondered, feeling an uncomfortable warmth burning her cheeks. Those idiots must be having a field day, she told herself, hoping her extreme discomfort didn't show.
The chubby redhead from the desk next to hers sidled up and threw Jo Ann a long, sly grin. "Don't look now, honey," she murmured, "but the lion just walked in."
Jo Ann followed the woman's gaze right into the stone-faced expression on Stan's face. He turned away quickly, without so much as acknowledging her presence. Yes, this has been one helluva week, Jo Ann thought, tossing her half filled coffee cup into a wastepaper basket and striding out the door into the hall. Thank goodness, it would soon be over.
The long white envelope with the official Sterling Record Company imprint on it was waiting for her when she got back to her desk. Jo Ann glanced down at the letter, wondering what it was doing there and what it said. Maybe someone upstairs was requesting another list typed, she thought, remembering Laura's last minute request the previous Friday. But why hadn't the order been sent on an inter-office memo slip?
Jo Ann read the letter twice before slamming it down on the desk blotter. This must be some kind of a lousy joke, she thought, picturing the smug look that sometimes appeared on Stan's face when he considered himself victorious. Unable to believe what she had seen, Jo Ann picked up the letter and read it for the third time.
She had been right. It was her week's notice. She had been fired. But why?
Too angry to think, Jo Ann stormed out of the room and marched back toward the lounge. If Stan Wyatt thought he was going to get away with that crap without so much as a peep out of her, he was very mistaken. Armed with an overpowering sense of righteous wrath, Jo Ann burst into the employees' lounge and searched the room for Stan.
He was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, talking to a pretty young brunette from another department. Oblivious to the looks on the faces of those around her, Jo Ann crossed the room and tapped him on the shoulder.
Stan's smile froze when he turned around and saw Jo Ann. "Yes, Miss Mason?" His tone was as official as the letter he had written her.
"Don't Miss Mason me," Jo Ann snapped, shoving the crumpled letter at him. "What's this supposed to mean?"
"I think your notice is self-explanatory," Stan said without changing his expression. "You don't have to worry. You'll get an extra week's severance pay."
"You know what you can do with that," Jo Ann snarled and turned her back on him.
Just in time to see Laura walking into the room.
"Hi, there," Laura smiled cheerfully as Jo Ann approached her. "Another week all gone. Isn't it great?"
Jo Ann walked past Laura and out of the room. She couldn't talk. Not even to her friend. All she wanted was to get as far away from everything and everybody as she could.
Storming back into her office, Jo Ann grabbed her bag and her coat and marched out. The hell with the letters, she thought, glancing back at the unfinished work on her desk. Let Stan give it to that girl he had been talking to in the lounge. She was through.
The afternoon was warm, but Jo Ann didn't stop to appreciate the weather. Without taking note of her direction, she started to walk. It seemed as though the energy of her fury could carry her on indefinitely. So what, Jo Ann told herself. Nobody would miss her if she got lost ... least of all herself.
By the time she had calmed down, Jo Ann found herself standing at the corner of Fifty-Seventh Street and Fifth Avenue. Glancing down the block, she caught sight of the Fifty-Ninth Street circle and the park beyond. A faint wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. Why had she walked that way, she wondered. Was it because Stan's apartment was so near? Force of habit?
Whatever the reason, Jo Ann didn't bother to wait to find out. Hailing a taxi, she hopped quickly inside and gave the driver Laura's address. It was time to go home ... or to whatever it was that she shared with Laura. As long as there was quiet, that's all that counted.
The apartment was dark and empty when Jo Ann turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Tossing her coat over the first chair in her path, she moved to the bar and poured herself a drink. Suddenly she felt directionless. A living thing without purpose or meaning. And all because of Stan Wyatt.
She would show him, Jo Ann encouraged herself as she leaned back further into the soft cushions of the couch and slipped off her shoes. She would find another job and get along just fine without him. Nothing to worry about and no reason to be upset. Jo Ann took a sip of her drink and wondered if her courage would last an hour.
It was two hours before she heard Laura's footsteps outside the door. Glancing over at the little clock on the kitchen table, Jo Ann noticed that it was already past seven. Strange, she thought. Laura usually got home by five-thirty.
The senseless expression on Laura's face announced her condition before she did. "Hiya, baby," she drawled, hurrying across the room to plant a wet kiss on Jo Ann's cheek. "Did you worry about me a lot?"
"I knew you were late," Jo Ann said, grateful that Laura had moved away. Just what she needed tonight ... Laura drunk, on top of everything else.
Laura took off her coat and yawned loudly. "What time is it?"
"Ten-past-seven." Jo Ann glanced at her watery drink and decided against finishing it. Somebody had better stay sober tonight, she thought.
"Good, then we still have time to make the party."
"What party?" Jo Ann wondered if this latest idea was a figment of Laura's drunken imagination or just one more thing she had missed during her foggy week.
"Leslie's party."
"Who's Leslie?"
"You remember." Laura sat down heavily beside Jo Ann and placed a possessive arm around her shoulders.
"The girl we met last week when we went shopping for your clothes."
"Yes, I remember," Jo Ann admitted sadly. The vision of that prune-faced woman with the dirty trench coat was one she had felt happy to put out of her mind as soon as Leslie was out of her sight. And the thought of seeing her again, just a week later, was no more appealing than it had been when they first met.
"Do we have to go?" Jo Ann asked.
"Why ... did you make other plans?" Laura looked as though she were about to be furious.
"Hey, what's eating you tonight?" Jo Ann moved off the couch, not in the mood to be browbeaten. "First you walk in here polluted and then you start looking for a fight."
"I'm sorry." Laura lowered her eyes and slouched. "I saw you stamp out of the office today and I got shook."
"Why should it bother you?"
"You know damned well why," Laura's tone rose again. "I saw who you were talking to in the lounge."
Jo Ann grasped the essence of Laura's annoyance and shook her head. Stan Wyatt ... the taboo subject. Just the mention of his name was enough to set Laura off these days.
"Why do you have to keep thinking of him as competition?" Jo Ann asked. "I told you there was nothing between us anymore."
"Then why'd you go looking for him in the lounge this afternoon?"
Jo Ann whirled, her own fury blocking out the fear of Laura's. "Because, if you must know, he fired me. That's why." Jo Ann walked back to the bar to find the bottle she had started on earlier.
"Gee, baby, I didn't know." Laura was suddenly all apology and repentance. "I just thought that..."
"I know what you thought," Jo Ann snapped, tired of arguing, sick to death of trouble. "If you can't trust me ... well, that's just too bad. I refuse to worry about you getting drunk every time you see me talking to some guy-"
"All right, all right. Forget it." Laura moved a little closer and kissed Jo Ann on the ear. "Let's call a truce, huh?" she asked, taking the bottle out of Jo Ann's hand and turning her around.
Jo Ann yielded patiently to the sour tasting kiss and wondered what she was going to do with Laura this evening. From only a week's experience, she knew that if they stayed too close to each other for any length of time, they would be sure to wind up in bed. And at the moment, she just wasn't in the mood.
"You want some supper?" Jo Ann pushed Laura gently away after a reasonable amount of time and forced a smile. "You must be starved by now."
"No, I don't want anything." Laura's shoulders drooped slightly and she sulked back to the sofa. "You go ahead and eat without me, if you're hungry."
"For heaven's sake, let's not have one of those nights," Jo Ann whined, reaching for a cigarette and wondering if she had the control not to lose her temper again.
"Okay," Laura suddenly brightened. "No more arguments. Come over here and we'll make up."
Jo Ann felt a sense of imminent doom as she went to Laura and sank down into the woman's arms. This was what Laura needed to feel secure, she knew. A body in bed. Jo Ann's body, to assure her that no man could take away her girl.
The kiss was long and Jo Ann felt nothing. Searching frantically for an excuse to get out of Laura's arms, she wondered if she might not have done better, after all, to have remained in the hotel. Suddenly, it seemed that everything had a price. Even Laura's friendship.
"I tell you what." Jo Ann's burst of inspiration set her smiling again. "You go inside and shower and we'll go to that party, if you want. Okay?"
"How long will it take you to get ready?" Laura sounded agreeable.
"Give me half an hour," Jo Ann said. Anything to get out of the apartment and avoid a scene with Laura, she thought. Even an evening with Leslie and god only knew how many others like her.
CHAPTER TEN
The shrill sound of a cheap record player blasted out from behind an apartment door and down the dim, smelly hall. Jo Ann recoiled inwardly from the attack upon her senses that the environment of Leslie's house provided. Intent, however, on maintaining an optimistic outlook, she forced herself forward toward the noise.
At least there would be other people to talk to, she told herself, stealing a glance at Laura's solemn, uncommunicative expression beside her. They had exchanged hardly a dozen words on the way over from Sixth Avenue. Just as well, Jo Ann thought. Considering the lousy mood the liquor had left Laura in, the lack of conversation was probably a blessing.
"This is it." Laura's announcement seemed redundant as she came to a halt in front of a battered door that seemed to strain in a futile attempt to contain the noise behind it. "Well, don't just stand there looking stupid. Ring." She leaned heavily against a cracked wall and yawned.
Jo Ann raised her hand toward the door and fought the urge to turn and run. She had hoped that the prospect of a party would help Laura's mood as well as her own. But the undeniable fact of Stan Wyatt's existence hung between them, to fill Laura with jealous anger and Jo Ann with irritable discomfort.
"Hello, baby. Come right on in."
Leslie Porter, much changed from the way Jo Ann remembered her at their last meeting, smiled in the doorway and swayed slightly. Her straight black hair was pulled back severely and knotted at the nape of her neck. A tight fitting white sweater clung desperately to her breasts, revealing the outline of a white brassiere beneath.
Jo Ann pretended to overlook the fact that Leslie's enthusiastic welcome had obviously been directed toward Laura. She stepped timidly into the crowded apartment. A second later, the thick, smoke-laden air seemed to rush in and choke her. Jo Ann slipped off her coat, taking little breaths and trying not to choke.
The first thing she noticed was that there were no men. Glancing carefully around the room, Jo Ann stared at the sight of female couples, locked in tight, sensual embraces, barely moving to the blaring music. Somehow, the congregation didn't seem like a party. The atmosphere was too intense. Jo Ann didn't have to think twice to know why.
"Just throw your coat anywhere," Leslie ordered right behind her. "We'll sort all belongings whenever this shindig breaks up."
Jo Ann held her jacket in front of her, suddenly sorry that she had chosen to wear her tight black slacks. She felt naked. Exposed and up for sale in the presence of so many hungry eyes that stared from points about the room. Automatically she turned toward Laura for some assurance of protection.
The expression on Laura's face had softened miraculously to one of smiling complacency. Jo Ann watched her gaze slowly and carefully about the room, stopping to check a face, a body ... and then glancing away until something else caught her attention and inspired another degree of incandescence in her already sparkling eyes.
No need to worry about Laura not having a good time, Jo Ann thought glumly. It was apparent to Jo Ann that she would have to fend for herself.
"What're you drinking?" Leslie asked when Laura's coat was piled on top of Jo Ann's over a nearby chair.
"Anything that pours," Laura said, her eyes still leaping from one feminine body to another.
"I'll have scotch, if there is any," Jo Ann blurted, suddenly needing something to compensate for her feeling like a third wheel. She had never seen Laura so completely indifferent to her presence. And the sensation of being suddenly thrust on her own again was quickly threatening to make Jo Ann miserable.
Leslie led them to a cluttered, improvised bar and searched for a clean glass. Jo Ann stood right beside her, fidgeting with her hands and wondering if Leslie, too, was going to leave her to her own devices, once the first drink had been served. The prospect of being assimilated into that faceless mob that filled the room was a frightening one. And even though she knew she had no place else to go, Jo Ann still wished she hadn't come.
Her fears were soon substantiated. Almost as soon as the drink was in Jo Ann's hand, Leslie was gone. And so was Laura.
Jo Ann smiled sheepishly at nobody in particular and looked for something to lean against. The room had no furniture except for a few folding chairs and they were all occupied by coats and pocketbooks. Inching her way between the swaying bodies, Jo Ann crossed to the far side of the room and stationed herself against a cracked white plaster wall. There were at least twenty other women in the room, she guessed. Yet she couldn't help but feel abandoned.
The music paused momentarily while somebody turned over the records. Jo Ann watched from her darkened corner, catching an amorous glance from one girl and then turning from the sight of a long kiss shared by two others. No one in the room seemed to be in the least concerned with a sense of abnormality.
Jo Ann tried to look relaxed. She had heard about such parties before, but not having experienced the sight of one, she couldn't help but feel shocked. All about her, women acted as if their attitudes were the most natural and reasonable ones in the world. No men were needed. They had each other. And from the looks of things, Jo Ann sensed they had found a way to reconcile their differences from the rest of society.
"Wanna dance?"
Jo Ann almost dropped her glass at the suddenness and nearness of the contralto voice. Whirling to her left, she found herself staring into the glazed eyes of a middle aged women with thick, mannish features.
"No thanks. I'm with someone," Jo Ann quaked, hoping that the woman wouldn't press the issue and embarrass her further.
The stranger shrugged resignedly and slouched off into the crowd. Jo Ann relaxed. She was safe for awhile longer.
The music began again. Jo Ann took a sip of scotch and listened to the slow, sensual beat of drums. The song was a popular one and as an alto sax began to wail, she found herself humming along with the plaintive melody.
The level of conversation softened as the girls resumed their positions on the floor and began to move their hips in rhythm. Jo Ann squinted into the semi-darkness for a glimpse of Laura. She was not to be seen. Leaning back against the wall again, she decided not to worry about Laura. Tonight, Laura would be rotten company anyway. Absence was better than hostility.
The drink was gone. Jo Ann placed her glass on a win-dowsill and peeked through the shades out to the street. It had begun to drizzle and the sidewalks of the Village were almost clear of people.
A leaden hand descended on her shoulder. Jo Ann smiled to herself, glad that Laura had come back to find her. Without shifting her gaze from the street, she reached up to grasp the strong fingers near her collar.
The large pinky ring shocked her to awareness. Turning quickly, Jo Ann tried to stifle her cry of surprise at the sight of the strange face so close to her own.
"Come on, honey. You just gonna stand here all night by yourself?" It was the same woman who had approached her before.
Jo Ann cleared her throat and wished that Laura would come to her rescue. "I told you that I'm not alone," she said in the pleasantest tone she could muster.
"That's okay," the woman persisted. "Your girl's busy, too."
"What do you mean?" Jo Ann felt an instinctive de-fensiveness creeping up to alter her features and mold them into an expression of outraged disbelief.
"Look for yourself." The woman nodded toward the couples on the dance floor.
Jo Ann glanced past the woman's shoulder and instantly caught sight of the back of Laura's white shirt. The head that rested, eyes closed, face smiling, on Laura's shoulder belonged to none other than Leslie Porter.
Jo Ann stared, unable to tear herself away from the sight of Leslie's dreamy expression as she and Laura rocked back and forth to the commanding beat of the drums. Inside her chest, she could feel her heart pounding with her sudden anger. The two women were locked together, oblivious to everything around them. And from the way their hips were moving, Jo Ann could easily imagine what they were feeling.
"Well, how about it?" the woman asked again.
Without answering, Jo Ann led the way to the floor. She didn't know exactly what she expected to do with this stranger. But whatever it was, it had to be better than standing off by herself while Laura had a good time.
"Well?" The woman stood with her arms outstretched, waiting for Jo Ann to fill them.
"I ... I've never done this kind of a dance," Jo Ann stammered, aware that her cheeks were coloring and grateful for the lack of overhead light.
"Don't worry ... you'll learn quick." The woman closed the gap between them and pulled Jo Ann close.
Jo Ann concentrated all her attention on following the tempo and not stepping on her partner's toes. As she had expected, there wasn't much foot work involved. Only the slow undulation of hips and thighs in rhythm with the sultry music.
"That's just fine." The woman's voice was husky as she crushed Jo Ann's breasts flat against her own and rubbed their bodies back and forth against each other. "You say you never did this before? Bull."
Jo Ann didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted by the woman's uninvited familiarity. Deciding there was no harm in a dance, she kept quiet and resisted the urge to look over and see what Laura was doing.
She didn't have to look. Laura and Leslie walked past a moment later. Jo Ann followed their path with her gaze. It led to the other side of the room and through a doorway.
"That son of a bitch," Jo Ann muttered under her breath.
"What did you say, honey?" the woman asked, unwillingly loosening her grip on Jo Ann's body to peer into her face.
"Nothing." Jo Ann looked away and wondered just how far she should trust Laura. She wanted to run after them and see what was going on, but a sense of pride told her to stay where she was.
"By the way, my name's Cooky."
"Mine's Jo Ann."
"Nice name," Cooky whispered, spreading the odor of beer. "Sounds like a little girl."
"Thanks." Jo Ann fought not to scream as an overwhelming sense of confusion rose within her. What was she doing in the middle of a bunch of crazy women with a dyke who was half-loaded and feeling the hell out of her? What was she doing living with Laura? What was she doing living in New York altogether?
"I think I need another drink," Jo Ann said.
"Stay right here. I'll get it for you."
"Scotch."
"Right." The woman walked away.
Jo Ann resumed her vigil against the wall, thankful at least that she didn't have to fight the mob at the bar for a drink. Despite herself, she glanced often at the closed door through which Laura and Leslie had disappeared a few minutes ago. She was dying to know what was happening on the other side of that door. But she knew she dared not try to find out.
"Scotch for you and beer for me." Cooky emerged out of thin air and stood spread-legged before Jo Ann. "Bottoms up, baby."
Jo Ann nodded her thanks and raised the glass to her lips. It was crazy, she knew. The party, the incident at the office ... indeed, her whole life. Crazy, futile, and meaningless. And the more she thought about it, the less it seemed to matter.
"Come on, Jo ... drink up and let's dance some more." Cooky wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and put down her glass. "You don't want to waste all this good music, do ya?"
Jo Ann shook her head. She hadn't paid very close attention to the woman's words, but they couldn't be very important, she knew. Whatever Cooky might lack in the way of charm was compensated for by the fact that she was right there. Interested and solicitous and close. And if Cooky was the best company she could hope for tonight, Jo Ann knew she would be forced to accept, whatever the price.
Jo Ann walked out onto the dance floor behind Cooky and waited for the woman to turn.
As they began to move, Jo Ann leaned in close, grateful at least that the woman was taller than she. Maybe with her eyes closed, she could forget who she was dancing with. Maybe with her eyes closed, she could block out a lot of things.
It only helped slightly. As she allowed her cheek to be coaxed onto the woman's shoulder, Jo Ann knew that there was nothing about Cooky that could make her feel comfortable. She would just have to stick out the evening until Laura decided it was time to go home.
"Hey, baby, why so stiff all of a sudden?" Cooky asked somewhere above jo Ann's ear.
Jo Ann shrugged and tried to appear at ease. She knew that she couldn't tell Cooky the real reasons behind her discomfort. From her experience with Laura, she had learned that one didn't bring up the subject of men in such circles. Best that Cooky think Jo Ann's reticence was due to being shy.
"Oh, come on. You don't have to be shy with me," Cooky said when Jo Ann had recited her spontaneous lie. "We're old friends already."
"But what about Laura?" Jo Ann knew the meaning could easily be misconstrued, but the words were already out.
"In this game, we all know there aren't any rules," Cooky said. "You see your friend around anyplace?" Jo Ann shook her head.
"Well, there's your answer." Cooky slid her hand lower along Jo Ann's spine and increased the pressure there. "Now, how about it ... you gonna cry or have a good time?"
Jo Ann had to admit a perverse logic behind Cooky's words. It did seem that Laura was occupied somewhere else in the apartment. What was the sense of spending the evening leaning against a wall, Jo Ann thought.
"Okay," she murmured. "Let's have a good time."
"That's better." Cooky sounded pleased with herself. A moment later she led Jo Ann into a slow turn. By the time they came out of it, Cooky's hand had slid the rest of the way down to the seat of Jo Ann's pants.
Jo Ann felt uncomfortable, but took heart from the fact that nobody else seemed to give a damn what she was doing. Allowing Cooky to continue leading her, she leaned a little closer and wondered how much more boredom she would have to endure before the party was over.
The record turned out to be an LP and one song went right into another. After a few minutes, Jo Ann stopped thinking altogether, content just to go on dancing without the need to make conversation.
When she felt Cooky's fingers work their way up the sides of her sweater, Jo Ann tried not to squirm. Her instincts told her to pull away, but the knowledge that there were so many other people in the room provided a sense of a safety. Besides, nobody was looking. Nobody cared. Why should she?
The rigidness seemed to grab hold of Cooky's limbs all of a sudden and she stopped dancing. Jo Ann blinked her eyes once, then again, jarred by the abrupt end to their fluid movement. Why had Cooky stopped dancing, she wondered. A moment later, she knew.
Eyes flashing, jaw clenched, Laura stood not three feet away from them. Silent and seething, she glared at Cooky and then at Jo Ann.
"Laura, where have you been?" Jo Ann heard the trepidation in her own defensive tone and hated herself for it. She wanted to turn her back and keep right on dancing ... show Laura that she really didn't give a damn about what had been going on with Leslie in the other room. But the same cowardice, the same desperate fear of winding up alone forced her to be sweet ... to rack her brain for something that would placate the thoughts that were obviously going through Laura's mind. "I was beginning to wonder if you had left."
"I'll bet you were," Laura snapped, her words thickened by liquor, her tone quavering with fury. "Didn't take you long to replace me, either, did it?"
"Now, wait just one damned minute..." Cooky leaped into the conversation, sounding like she was ready for a brawl.
"You stay the hell out of this," Laura's tone grew louder.
Jo Ann saw the girls around them stop dancing and turn to see what all the noise was about. "Come on, now, you two," she coaxed in the most cheerful voice she had. "Let's not ruin a good party."
"You mean, let's not ruin your party," Laura yelled. Then she turned to Leslie, who had stood drunkenly immune to everything. "Get my coat, Les."
Leslie disappeared like a well-oiled robot.
"Where are we going?" Jo Ann asked.
"We aren't going anyplace. I'm getting out of here." And with that, Laura turned and walked toward the door.
"Come on, don't let her shake you, baby." Cooky sounded almost pleased with what had transpired. "Tomorrow, you'll kiss and make up. Let's dance."
Jo Ann didn't resist as Cooky pulled her back into a tight embrace and picked up the tempo of the music. As they danced, she kept turning, hoping to find some sight of Laura. When she found her, Leslie was escorting Laura out the door.
"Please, let me go." Jo Ann pulled back from the bewildered Cooky.
"What's the matter, honey?" Cooky stared, bleary-eyed, as if not quite able to comprehend what was going on around her.
"Laura left," Jo Ann called over her shoulder as she started for the door. Winding her way between the swaying couples that seemed to be purposely blocking her way, she finally reached the other side of the room and grabbed for the doorknob. Wrenching it around, she pulled open the door and ran out into the dank hallway.
It was empty.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jo Ann slammed her fist against the wall and gave way to the rush of tears that rose in her throat and choked off her breath. Damn that woman, she thought, realizing the impotence of her anger, but hoping its release would restore control to her trembling body. The day had been a total fiasco. Everything that had happened was bad. And now, not only had Laura made a scene in front of all those people, but she had gone off, god only knew where, with Leslie. And again, Jo Ann was left alone.
The sound of shuffling footsteps closing up behind her reached her ears, but Jo Ann didn't turn around. Whoever it was, she wasn't interested. She had had enough of people for one day ... enough of the wrong kind of people to last her for a lifetime.
"What's all the big fuss about?" Cooky's voice boomed down the hall. "That dame hit you or something?"
"Forget it, please." Jo Ann hurriedly brushed her palms across her eyes. "Nothing's happened. Nothing at all."
"Sure, sure." Cooky sidled up to Jo Ann and leaned against the wall. "You go ahead and play the brave, understanding wife. See how far it'll get you."
"I'm not playing anything." Jo Ann resented the inference and its possibility of truth. "I just didn't want her to run off, that's all."
"What difference does it make?" Cooky reached into her pocket and casually pulled out a package of cigarettes. "So she goes off, so another dame walks in. That's life. Take it or leave it."
"Very funny." Jo Ann accepted a cigarette without smiling and waited for a light.
"You wanna go back to the party with me?" Cooky's voice retained a nonchalance which conceded nothing in the way of serious concern for Jo Ann's state of dismay.
"No thanks." Jo Ann shook her head and winced at the thought of facing all those people after what they had seen and heard.
"Good, then I'll get your coat." Cooky disappeared into the apartment before Jo Ann had a chance to refuse the offer. "You and I can have a better party all by ourselves," she said a few moments later, returning with Jo Ann's coat draped over her arm.
"If you don't mind, I think I've had quite enough party for one night." Jo Ann took her coat and started to put it on.
"Okay, have it your way." Cooky's voice was suddenly razor sharp. "You wanna mope? So mope. Carry on like a sixteen-year-old brat. Why the hell should I give a damn?" She turned and walked back toward Leslie's open door.
"Wait a minute, Cooky," Jo Ann called after her, feeling trapped at having to be polite to a girl she hardly knew and didn't care for at all, but unable to think of a graceful way to give her the brush. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"I'll live." Cooky turned around, her expression sour. "You go ahead and run after your girl. Maybe if you're lucky, you'll catch her before she fills up your side of the bed with that other dame."
The possible accuracy of Cooky's words stopped Jo Ann short in the middle of what would have been an angry retort. She had just about decided to go back to the apartment alone, to wait for Laura. But the possibility of finding Laura already there with Leslie seemed to put going home out of the question.
"Well, are you staying or going?"
"I guess I'm staying." Jo Ann heard herself pronouncing her own doom, but there was nothing she could do. If Cooky had planned it that way, the situation couldn't have been more disadvantageous for Jo Ann. Now, she had no place to go ... and if Cooky was right about Laura, nothing to lose.
"That's much better, kid." Cooky walked back down the hall toward Jo Ann, extracting a key chain from her pocket as she moved.
"Where are we going?" Jo Ann asked, falling reluctantly into step beside her.
"Not too far." Cooky grinned slyly and led Jo Ann down to the other end of the hall. "Here we are," she said, slipping a key into the lock.
"You live here, too?" Jo Ann blurted.
"No, I'm the French maid." Cooky chuckled at her own humor and nipped on a light switch. "Come on," she beckoned from inside the doorway. "Nobody's going to bite you."
Jo Ann smiled stiffly and walked into the living room. The layout of the apartment was the same as Leslie's. And the surroundings were just as shabby.
"Don't mind the condition of the place." Cooky seemed to read the thought that passed across Jo Ann's mind at the sight of the unkempt apartment. "I haven't had the dough to fix it up yet. But it'll be nice, one of these days."
"Oh, I'm sure it will." Jo Ann strongly hoped she sounded sincere. The awareness of having been caught being judgmental embarrassed her and knotted her tongue. "How are you going to decorate?"
"Oh, I don't know." Cooky shrugged and walked over toward a small kitchen area. "Early Salvation Army, I guess. Depends on whether or not I inherit my million." She glanced back over her shoulder at Jo Ann, still standing sheepishly inside the doorway. "Come on in and make yourself at home."
"Thank you." Jo Ann glanced across the living room to an over-stuffed chair on the far side. Anxious to escape Cooky's disquieting invitation, she hurried toward the chair. A minute later, a spring pinched her painfully.
"You gotta watch out for that one," Cooky said, laughing loudly at the sight of Jo Ann's upward leap.
"So I see." Jo Ann rubbed the sore spot and walked back to the stained porcelain sink where Cooky was standing.
"Drinks'll be out in a minute," Cooky said, holding a glass under the running tap. "Scotch, wasn't it?"
Jo Ann merely nodded and remained silent. Suddenly the dingy apartment, the whole situation in which she found herself, seemed unreal. Laura ... a momentary step in the wrong direction. Cooky and all those other women like her ... a desperate, pathetic imitation of life. And yet, there she was, caught right in the middle of the sad, pointless fantasy, with no foreseeable means of escape.
How had she wound up there, Jo Ann asked herself, without finding any answer. How had she managed to exist for the past week without any need or sense of free will? Was she merely a puppet to be moved from setting to setting for the entertainment of others?
And where, when it was over, would the chaos end?
The feel of a cold glass pressed into her damp palm chilled the thoughts from Jo Ann's brain. Muttering a dull thank you, she gulped the stiff shot of scotch and let it burn through her stomach. To hell with sobriety and common sense, she told herself glumly. It didn't pay to make plans anyhow. They never worked out.
"Now, where was I?" Cooky began again, beer can in hand.
"I was just wondering the same thing," Jo Ann commented, knowing she wouldn't find the answer tonight, possibly never. Chances were, she would stay until morning with Cooky. And after that, she didn't know ... and wasn't sure she really cared.
"Come on," Cooky perked up. "No more of this depressed nonsense. Let's dance."
"Suits me." Jo Ann smiled limply and watched Cooky fumble with a knob on a cracked plastic radio.
The music blasted through the room and Jo Ann shrank from the brashness of the sound. A moment later, Cooky found a soft instrumental number and an atmosphere of bleak calm returned to the room.
Without feeling or enthusiasm, Jo Ann moved into Cooky's embrace and followed her sluggish footsteps around the wooden floor. The liquor inside her was making Jo Ann's stomach churn and she worked to concentrate on other things, pleasant things like daytime and fresh air, to keep from being nauseous. And when Cooky coaxed Jo Ann's head down onto her shoulder, she didn't have the energy to resist.
Thin lips kissed the lobe of Jo Ann's ear in an attempt to arouse her. Jo Ann remained politely still, vaguely willing to be excited if such a thing were possible in her frame of mind. Anything, to distract her from the mood of hopelessness that had settled around her outlook and dragged her down toward apathy.
"You still worried about your girl?" Cooky asked without breaking the tempo of the dance.
"Nope." Jo Ann's answer was immediate and sincere. "I'm not worried about anything."
"Good."
The sound of the music was all she heard for a long while. With more of a feeling of fatigue than pleasure, Jo Ann closed her eyes and tried to subordinate her misery to the music's gentle invitation to happiness. There was a time, she remembered, when a tinkling piano and the warmth of an embrace was enough to blot out anything bad. Why couldn't she react the same way now? Maybe she wasn't trying hard enough.
Pulling herself a little closer against Cooky's body, Jo Ann revolved her hips and hoped for something resembling excitement. If she could only lose herself in physical arousal, she thought ... if she could just trade the chaos in her mind for the more pleasurable chaos of the body ... then, perhaps, with the arrival of physical fulfillment, she could find an inner peace.
As though in answer to the unspoken plea, Cooky raised her hand and began gently to stroke Jo Ann's hair. Jo Ann remained nestled against the woman's shoulder, eager to be swept away, desperate to feel loved.
The hardness of the wall pressed flat against Jo Ann's back as Cooky danced her over to the side of the room. Jo Ann kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the hunger she knew would shine on the woman's face, but eager, rather, to have that desire communicated and to share in its pleasure.
Cooky's hands slid silently up the sides of Jo Ann's sweater and stopped at the bottom of her brassiere. Jo Ann stood, waiting for the touch that she knew must follow, waiting for the thrill she hoped would accompany the caress.
Trembling fingers plied the softness of Jo Ann's willing breasts, caressing, fondling, seeking to excite response.
Jo Ann took a deep breath and wondered why she remained so numb. Was she already past the point of feeling, past the stage of seeking pleasure in the nearness of another body? She must try harder, for a second chance might never come.
Jo Ann reached for the belt of Cooky's slacks and tugged at her shirttails. Neither woman spoke as Jo Ann's hands crept beneath the folds of material and came to rest on naked flesh.
The feel of Cooky's eager mouth, hovering on the edge of a kiss, reached Jo Ann. Instinctively, she parted her lips and leaned forward. Her tongue darted out, inviting Cooky's passion, begging for it to be contagious.
The kiss was hard. Jo Ann felt her lips pressed painfully against her teeth. For a moment, Stan's face flashed through her brain, but the last remains of the instinct of self-preservation forced it away, beyond the realm of consciousness. A warmth born of closeness began to envelop her body. Jo Ann let her tongue revolve inside Cooky's mouth. It was working ... the need had returned. Now, it must be nurtured and used.
"You want to go into the bedroom?" Jo Ann asked matter-of-factly when she could speak again.
"No, not yet." Cooky's voice was thick with desire.
Have it your way, Jo Ann thought, sighing as Cooky's fingers squeezed the hardened tip of one breast and then the other. As the waistband of her sweater was pulled up, Jo Ann felt the coldness of the wall on her bare back. So what, she told herself as the momentary shock began to subside. Soon, she wouldn't think about cold ... or anything, except her body's pleasure.
The clasps on her bra gave way quickly beneath Cooky's expert touch. Tingling mounds of flesh fell into view and Jo Ann smiled as Cooky's mouth descended. The moist, satisfying contact thrilled her and she pressed herself to Cooky's lips. It was good. And quickly getting better.
The grating sound of the zipper on Jo Ann's slacks went practically unheard as the flesh beneath quivered with expectant awareness. Jo Ann pulled in her stomach while Cooky ripped open a button and tugged at the black material. The slacks slid down until they were bunched around Jo Ann's ankles.
Jo Ann stood very still, enjoying a trail of tingling kisses across her naked belly. She felt her knees go weak and quickly stiffened. She wanted to remain standing. She wanted to enjoy the ecstasy yet to come. But standing still, she knew, was going to be difficult.
"Let's get rid of this," Cooky rasped, pulling the wrinkled slacks over Jo Ann's sneakers and tossing them aside.
Jo Ann yearned to remove the rest of her clothing, but she didn't dare move. She was happily aware of her body, delicately suspended at the edge of violent arousal. She fought not to give way to a need to sink to the floor and pull Cooky down with her. It would be so easy, she knew, to lose herself within a frenetic circus of flailing limbs. But she also knew that it was better to wait and take the most pleasure from each moment. To rush back to reason would be to defeat the entire purpose of the act.
The elastic band at the top of her panties stretched willingly over Jo Ann's hips and then slipped down to her thighs. Jo Ann pressed her knees together as a sudden, momentary fear overwhelmed her. Then she remembered that she was safe and allowed Cooky to remove the garment.
A muffled gasp of delight escaped Cooky's lips as she pressed them against smooth, willing flesh. Jo Ann moaned r once with delicious frustration as those lips teased and played around the creaminess of her thighs and then trailed back up to her stomach.
Pulsating breasts yielded to the explorations of searching fingers. Jo Ann hunched her shoulders as Cooky rubbed her palms against the hardened points of dark nipples and pressed them inward. Her whole body was alive now, ready to receive Cooky's attentions, frantic to know complete satisfaction.
"More ... more..." Jo Ann begged as Cooky's mouth returned to the throbbing flesh.
Unable to control herself a moment longer, Jo Ann reached down until she had found Cooky's bobbing head and made it a prisoner between her hands. Holding it tightly, she pulled it close, pressing against the temples as a fire bolt of contact spread its hot tentacles of sensation around every pore of her body.
The hard wooden floor softened beneath the soles of her feet and Jo Ann felt herself sinking downward. Pressing her palms flat against the wall behind her, she slowed her descent until she traveled the endless distance to a sitting position.
The scraping sound of Cooky's heels lasted only a moment. Jo Ann raised her hips and rocked slowly back and forth as a renewed excitement thrilled her body. She didn't have to coax Cooky anymore. The woman went willingly and skillfully to her flesh and soon, it was throbbing through the final moments...
Jo Ann felt her being soar through the blackness around her and revel in the fury of completion. She heard the loud gasping sound of her own voice, testifying without words to the totality of her body's joy. But she didn't try to silence herself. The moment was perfect in its success, but even as Jo Ann experienced it, she felt the intensity begin to wane and she couldn't help but sob. The end had come and its aftermath could only be sadness.
The coldness slowly returned to her body and Jo Ann reached for her underwear. Beside her, she knew that Cooky was resting, waiting perhaps to receive some of the same pleasure she had given to Jo Ann. It would be hard to face the woman, once she knew her cause was hopeless. The sooner Jo Ann could leave, the better.
"Can I see you again sometime?" Cooky asked meekly when Jo Ann had finished dressing.
Jo Ann just smiled. It was kinder than saying no and it served the same purpose.
A hand closed softly, pleading, around Jo Ann's knee. Without looking around, she gently extricated herself from Cooky's grasp and walked toward the door, picking up her coat on the way out.
A silence from the direction of Leslie's apartment drifted down the hall to confirm Jo Ann's suspicions. It was time to go. She turned around in the hallway, but only in time to see Cooky's apartment door close behind her. A lock clicked.
Now, she had no choice. Aching legs carried Jo Ann toward the staircase. She didn't know yet what was in store for her, but she knew that she must go home. Home ... to Laura. The party was over.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bright yellow fingers of Saturday morning sunlight inched silently up across Jo Ann's cheek. Long eyelashes fluttered slightly in response to the quiet intrusion. A lock of blonde hair glinted as she turned her head and sighed in her sleep.
Jo Ann pulled her coat up tighter around her and stirred in her chair. It creaked loudly as she shifted her position and tried to escape wakefulness. She yawned. And suddenly, she remembered.
Blinking her eyelids at the light, Jo Ann stared sleepily ahead of her. Her body was still asleep, but her mind had begun to work. She knew where she was. And one quick glance told her that she was still alone.
No Laura. The apartment was empty. And deadly quiet.
Jo Ann stretched and let the coat slip down onto the floor. What time was it, she wondered, turning around in her seat. Almost noon.
Jo Ann leaned down and picked up her coat. Five more minutes of rest and then she would get up. What was five minutes in a lifetime, she thought, tucking the collar beneath her chin and pulling her knees up toward her chest. Whatever was to come could certainly wait until she was awake. Chances were she would need all her strength anyway to face the day that lay before her.
But sleep would not return. Jo Ann opened her eyes again as the memory of last night returned to trouble her. What was the woman's name, she tried to remember. Oh yes ... Cooky.
Jo Ann fought to bring the woman back to her mind's eye. She couldn't. The features were a blur. The face eluded her. All she could remember was the voice. And the hard, knowing lips.
A tingling discomfort urged her out of the chair. Jo Ann walked over to the sink and searched for her toothbrush. Where the hell was Laura, she asked herself again, wondering if she should worry. And wondering if all the worry in the world would do her any good.
The taste of the toothpaste mingled with the taste of stale liquor. Jo Ann rinsed her mouth quickly and tried to decide if she should chance some black coffee and toast. The thought of food made her shudder. Her stomach had withstood all the punishment it was going to. Best to leave well enough alone.
Yesterday's rumpled clothing stuck to her body. Jo Ann moved to the closet and pulled out a fresh skirt and blouse. Perhaps a shower could make her feel clean again, she thought. It was worth a try. Anything, to get rid of the physical awareness of what had happened in Cooky's apartment.
Jo Ann stepped out of the shower and reached for a clean towel. She felt a little better. Awake, anyhow. And the thought of clean, fresh clothing was inviting.
Tucking the white blouse into the waist of a brown skirt, Jo Ann faced herself in the mirror. Except for the dark circles under her eyes, she looked human again. A little make-up and she could pass for normal. She smiled. She wasn't really one of them after all, Jo Ann assured herself. In a million years she could never look like Cooky.
Jo Ann looked like a woman. A soft, sweet-smelling, real woman. And she felt glad.
The unexpected sound of a key turning in the lock sent Jo Ann running toward the front door. She didn't know what she would say when she came face to face with Laura, but it didn't really matter. Laura was home and safe. That was the most important part.
"Well, hello there." Smiling brown eyes met Jo Ann's and seemed to approve of what they saw.
"Who ... who are you?" Jo Ann stammered, backing away a few steps from the young man with the curly brown hair.
"I'm Charlie. Laura's brother. May I come in?"
"Yes, I suppose so." Jo Ann shrugged and stepped back into the apartment. "Laura's not home right now."
"Oh?" Charlie closed the door behind him. "Where is she?"
"I don't really know." Jo Ann was sorry the moment she had said it. She should have made up some excuse, she thought. How strange it must look for her not to know Laura's whereabouts at twelve o'clock in the afternoon.
"Don't let that bother you," Charlie chuckled, as though enjoying the confused expression on Jo Ann's face. "I'm used to finding my sister away on mysterious trips."
"You mean..."
"Yes, I know. Everything," Charlie announced flatly. "Now can we be friends?"
Jo Ann smiled, a little taken aback by the man's frankness. He seemed pleasant enough, she thought, wondering if he had decided that she had to be a lesbian because she was living with Laura. "Would you like some coffee?"
"With whom will I be drinking it?" Charlie unbuttoned his topcoat and hung it into the closet.
"I'm sorry." She extended her hand. "My name is Jo Ann. Jo Ann Mason."
"Glad to meet you, Jo Ann." Charlie returned her handshake and her smile. "And, yes, I'd love some coffee."
Jo Ann hurried to the stove, suddenly glad she had changed her clothes. She heard Charlie settling himself into a chair and she was glad not to be alone in the apartment anymore. She wondered if they would have to talk about Laura.
"How about some eggs?" Jo Ann called.
"Only if you'll join me." Charlie lit a pipe and tossed the match into an overflowing tray. "Don't you ever empty these?"
"We sort of rushed out of here," Jo Ann answered as she grabbed the ashtray and dumped its contents into a wastepaper basket.
"And you came back alone?" Charlie asked.
Jo Ann avoided his eyes as she replaced the ashtray on the table next to his chair. "Yes," she whispered, unable to keep the tension from her voice. "I came back alone."
"I see." Charlie's words were encumbered by the pipe between his lips. "Another woman?"
Jo Ann stared at him, unable to cope with his straightforward attitude. "Yes, another woman, if you must know," she finally said, feeling slightly annoyed with his inquisitiveness.
"You don't have to get sore at me about it," Charlie said. "I was just trying to make conversation."
"Then please make it about something else," Jo Ann said testily and returned to the stove.
"Okay, let's talk about you," Charlie said above the sound of crackling butter. "Been living here long?"
"Only a week." Jo Ann dropped the eggs into tne pan and covered them. "A new one, eh?"
Jo Ann whirled, the anger clearly showing on her face.
"Okay, okay, I take it back." Charlie held his palms up defensively and attempted a lighthearted chuckle. "Don't yell again."
"I wasn't yelling," Jo Ann said. "I just want to know how come you know so much."
"Simple." Charlie smiled. "I've seen it happen a dozen times before."
"Seen what?"
"My sister on the make ... with more than one girl at a time."
"I didn't know it was a habit." Jo Ann felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach and thought she might just be sick.
"No sense in blaming Laura. She doesn't know what the heck she wants." Charlie's gaze traveled the length of Jo Ann's body. "But if I were her, I'd be home now."
Jo Ann blushed and turned back to the eggs. She wasn't mad at Charlie anymore. His honesty was simply that and nothing more. No ulterior motives. A simple, frank person, who obviously found her attractive. She liked him.
"I hope you like your eggs sunny-side-up," Jo Ann said as she placed the two plates on the table and went back for the coffee.
"That'll be just fine." Charlie put down his pipe and reached for a fork. "You have any idea at all when Laura will be back?"
Jo Ann looked at him blankly. "I don't know if she'll really be back at all," she said. "When I sa,w her last night, she was..." Jo Ann hesitated again. "Well, she was kind of..."
"Drunk?" Charlie grinned. "Yes," Jo Ann said.
"Don't worry." Charlie spooned some sugar into his cup. "Happens every weekend. She'll be home sometime today. I thought maybe she had moved in with somebody else, the way you were acting."
"I see you know her better than I do." Jo Ann sat down across the table from Charlie.
"I should. She's my sister, isn't she?" Charlie shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "This is good."
"Thanks." Jo Ann looked down and began to eat. Charlie looked nice in his blue sport shirt, she thought. Clean and polished, like a school-kid. And very out of place in Greenwich Village. "You live here in town, too?" she asked impulsively.
"Heck no," Charlie said between mouthfuls. "I'm all the way out in Queens."
Jo Ann smiled.at the way he made the borough sound like a different country. "Work out there too?"
"Uh huh." Charlie's mouth was stuffed with egg. "Got my own novelty store, just last year. You know, greeting cards, kids' games, all that stuff."
"Sounds nice."
"I can't complain." Charlie put down his fork and looked up proudly. "Only been open fourteen months and the store is paying for itself. Pretty good, huh?"
"Very good," Jo Ann agreed, figuring that he must know what he was talking about.
"Here," Charlie reached into his pocket for his wallet.
"This is the place." He pulled out a little blue card and handed it across the table.
Jo Ann glanced down and read the raised black lettering: Charlie's Novelty Shop ... Cards, Games, School Supplies.
"Yes, very nice." Jo Ann held the card out to him.
"Keep it. I've got hundreds." Charlie put his wallet away and started to eat again. "Stop in sometime and I'll give you a discount."
Jo Ann laughed softly. Charlie, in the middle of the Village, was like a fish out of water. But a very pleasant fish.
The heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs and approached the apartment door. Jo Ann's eyes met Charlie's for a brief, knowing second before they both looked toward the door.
"Good morning," Charlie called as Laura pulled herself through the doorway.
Laura hung onto the knob and stared, as though unable to comprehend what she saw in front of her. "What the hell is going on here?" she grumbled, slamming the door closed and slouching across the room to the sofa.
"Your friend was just feeding me breakfast." Charlie sounded somewhat less cheerful now, as his jovial smile went unreturned by his sister.
"How very cozy." Laura kicked off her shoes and fell down onto the pillows.
"Can I get you some coffee?" Jo Ann rushed out of her chair and over to the couch.
"You don't have to get me a damned thing," Laura yelled, pushing Jo Ann away with one hand.
Jo Ann walked silently back to the table without answering. She looked over at Charlie for assistance.
"Forget it," Charlie said, obviously embarrassed. "She must have had a bad night."
"How would you know?" Laura snapped. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"Laura, come on now." Charlie sounded on the brink of anger. "What kind of a way is that to talk?"
"I'll talk any way I goddamned please." Laura bolted upright and glared at her brother. "And if you and that no good slut sitting next to you don't like it, you both know the way out."
The resounding slam of the door shook the apartment as Charlie left.
"What did you have to yell at him for?" Jo Ann asked softly, as Charlie's footsteps faded quickly down the stairs. "He only came to see you."
"Did you show him a good time?" Laura's voice was mean and filled with contempt.
Jo Ann finished her coffee and piled the dishes in the sink. "Would you like some breakfast before I go?" she murmured.
"You're not going anywhere," Laura yelled from the sofa.
Jo Ann turned around just in time to see the woman rush across the room.
"I think we'd better have a little talk," Laura said, standing menacingly over Jo Ann.
Jo Ann quaked inside and wished Charlie hadn't gone away. She suddenly remembered Cooky's words last night and wondered if Laura would really hit her. She wasn't about to find out.
"What do you want to talk about?" Jo Ann asked timidly.
"What do you think I want to talk about?" Laura screamed.
Jo Ann sighed and sat down. Now she was in for it. And the worst was yet to come.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jo Ann slumped down into a chair, stunned. Laura hadn't raised a ringer to her. She didn't have to. The slap had been verbal. "Get out and stay out!" It was as simple as that. And now, as Jo Ann shook with uncontrollable fury, Laura lay on the sofa, peacefully sleeping off her hangover.
It doesn't matter if she is hung over, Jo Ann told herself again and again. Laura knew exactly what she was saying. And she had meant every word. Facts were facts. And Jo Ann was out on her own again.
The glaring sunlight seemed more oppressive than ever. Jo Ann hurried to the windows and drew the shades. She didn't want to see the world outside. It didn't care about her. She didn't matter ... to anybody. And if she could help it, in the future nobody was going to matter to her.
Laura rolled over in her sleep and muttered something incomprehensible. Jo Ann glanced over at the reclining figure and sneered. Some lover, she thought. Some friend. Laura had turned out to be as bad as Stan. And they both stank.
She had to get away. Jo Ann reached for her coat and picked up some change from the table. She had no idea where she was going, except that it was out of that apartment and far from that woman.
The creaky stairs seemed to laugh at her as Jo Ann raced down toward the street. Her brain was a jumble and she tried not to think. Laura had told her so many things ... made so many unsubstantiated accusations. Jo Ann still couldn't understand them all. Perhaps she never would, she told herself as she rushed out onto the sidewalk and hurried toward the corner.
Washington Square Park was crowded with mothers and baby carriages when Jo Ann arrived. Strolling beneath the naked branches of trees, she moved to the most secluded area and sat down on an empty bench. A dull ache had begun to pound over her temples. And as she glanced around at the families walking along the paths, she felt more than ever that she didn't belong.
"That's the way the gay life is," Laura had said. Her words still rang in Jo Ann's ears. She had hardly even attempted to defend her actions with Leslie. Laura had just skimmed over the situation in her rage concerning Cooky's solicited attentions.
She had tried to explain, Jo Ann remembered. Honestly tried to tell Laura that nothing was going on ... that they were just dancing and that, if she hadn't been left alone, Cooky would never have approached her.
But Laura wouldn't listen. Her misplaced rage about Stan had been completely transferred to Cooky's amorous advances. Nothing Jo Ann could say made any impression on Laura. And finally, she had just stopped trying.
So now what, Jo Ann asked herself. The alternatives weren't very inviting. She could either go back and try to smooth things over with Stan or see what Cooky had to offer. Both possibilities were equally repulsive. No, she would have to come up with something better, Jo Ann told herself. Something that wouldn't make her feel like the slut Laura had called her.
The word still stung. Maybe there had been some truth in it, Jo Ann admitted sadly. She couldn't deny that she had been living with Laura mostly because she had no place else to go. She didn't love the woman and never had. There were no delusions along those lines. She had needed Laura. Needed her to fill the void that Stan's exit had left. And now Laura was gone, too. What next?
A creeping sense of annoyance spread through Jo Ann and made her shiver. How could she have been so naive as to think that anybody else could take care of her, if she couldn't take care of herself? That anybody else could respect her when she felt totally worthless?
The answer suddenly dawned. The prospect wasn't pleasant, but that didn't make it any the less necessary. She would have to set herself up all over again. On her own, this time. Really on her own. With no dependency on anybody who wasn't worthy of her attentions.
The idea of beginning again without friends, in a new job and a new apartment, propelled Jo Ann to her feet. Without thinking about where she was going, she left the park and began to walk. As one step followed another, she tried to conjure up the image of herself as an independent individual ... a woman capable of supporting herself, watching out for herself, and inspiring the respect of others.
A shattering wave of doubt gripped her. Jo Ann stopped for a red light and wondered if she was just kidding herself all over again. What made her think that she was capable of overcoming the past? Where did she get the nerve to think that the very thing that had come between herself and Stan ... that uncontrollable fear that had forced her out toward Central Park and set her up for that attack ... would melt away just because she would have it so? The fact still remained that when it came to men, Jo Ann was frigid.
The added awareness made her stomach lurch beneath her jacket. Jo Ann crossed the street, walking slowly now. Was it true that she was meant for a life where only women could satisfy her? Were the rest of her days predestined to be an endless voyage from one woman's bed to another? Until she wound up like Laura, unable to trust any woman at all.
There was only one way to find out.
The apartment was still quiet when Jo Ann got back. Reaching into the closet for her one suitcase, she glanced at Laura's slumbering figure and wondered if she should leave her a note. Not necessary, Jo Ann decided. Laura couldn't understand. No point in adding any further confusion to the mess.
As quickly as she could, Jo Ann packed her suitcase and snapped the locks closed. In her wallet, her salary check remained uncashed. It was enough for a down payment on a nice apartment. The rest of the rent she would provide for when the time came. But all by herself.
Bidding a silent and unsentimental farewell to Greenwich Village, Jo Ann lugged her valise onto the Fifth Avenue bus and settled herself for the ride uptown. At Forty-Second Street, she got off and began to walk toward Grand Central Station.
The sound of the trains reached Jo Ann's ears and made her pause. Luggage in hand, she listened to the chug of the wheels and wondered if there was a train headed in the direction of her home.
Cut that out, she told herself angrily and moved on. Her home was wherever she chose to make it. There was no reason to go running back to Bootesburg, Jo Ann assured herself. She would survive in New York after all. Or drop dead trying.
The little gold key to the locker compartment clinked as Jo Ann dropped it into her purse. Returning the friendly smile of a young sailor, she turned and looked for the nearest news stand. She could feel the boy's eyes on the back of her skirt, but now Jo Ann didn't mind. In fact, she was pleased. Despite what she had gone through, it didn't show. Men still wanted her. The only question was, would she ever want them?
Forcing that problem from her mind, Jo Ann walked over to a rack and pulled out a copy of the New York Times. It was as though she had gone back a year in time, she thought, dropping a dime in the vendor's hand and moving away. There she was again, looking for a place to stay. Green and fresh and full of hope for a bright Manhattan future. Only this time, she knew a hell of a lot more about the big city and its people.
The classified ads went on for pages and Jo Ann plodded through each of them carefully. When she had checked off the most attractive offers, she changed a dollar bill and carried her dimes to a phone booth.
The one room apartment on West Seventy-Fourth Street was bright and cheerful, despite the fact that it was below street level. Jo Ann stood beside the landlord, hardly hearing his praises, as she looked the place over and waited for him to give her a price.
The red and white checked cafe curtains billowed in the breeze and Jo Ann hoped she could afford to live there. The studio couch that opened into a double bed needed a new cover, she noticed. But she decided that she could make one herself. And enjoy doing it.
"Eighty dollars," the man said. "And that's my last price."
"Seventy-five." Jo Ann hoped she sounded as independent as she wanted to become. "Will you sign a lease."
"For how long."
"Two years."
Jo Ann hesitated. Two years seemed like such a long time. But then, she asked herself, where was she going?
The door closed softly and Jo Ann sat down in a chair in the first apartment that was ever really her own. She sighed happily and slipped one shoe off with the toe of the other. Without having to coax it, she felt her body beginning to relax. And she knew then that this place was soon going to feel like home.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It had taken two solid hours of cleaning and polishing, but the apartment sparkled. Jo Ann tossed the dust rag into a closet, removed her apron and turned around to view her work.
It was perfect. She had been right about the red slip cover. It picked up the color of the curtains and filled the room with cheerfulness, despite the fact that she had made it herself. The new brass ashtrays gleamed on End tables and the highly polished floor reflected the light from the ceiling fixture. And best of all, the room looked as though it belonged to somebody who was happy there.
And why not, Jo Ann asked herself. The past two weeks had been the happiest she could remember since she had come to New York. She had found a job and next month's rent was safely tucked in the bank. And to night, he was coming to dinner.
A tingle of nervousness played with her fingers and made them tremble. Jo Ann closed the closet door, reminding herself for the tenth time today that she mustn't be panicky. Either it would work or it wouldn't. The situation was simple and the result could only be a yes or a no. A few more hours and she would have the answer.
The smell of fried chicken floated over from the stove. Jo Ann hurried toward it, trying to remember where she had put the recipe for Hollandaise sauce that she had cut out of a magazine.
Seven-thirty. Only half an hour more to wait. Jo Ann removed the chicken from the frying pan and placed it in a baking dish in the oven to keep warm. She had known when she began that it was too early to start cooking. But her mood required that she keep her mind and her hands occupied each moment. For a moment's idleness, she knew, was all the time she would need to get scared again and perhaps call the whole thing off.
Jo Ann walked into the bathroom and faced herself in the mirror. She had showered twice, eager to be spotless and sweet-smelling when he arrived. Would he like her, she wondered again, inspecting what looked like a blemish in the glass. No, her skin was perfect. And the rest of her was in good shape, too. If only everything went well...
The sound of electricity crackled through her hair as Jo Ann brushed the soft waves into place. Pulling off her blue print housecoat, she glanced at her body before reaching for her make-up. Nothing had changed, Jo Ann was glad to notice. The soft lacy material of her bra veiled her milk white breasts and made them look untouched. The pink panties clung to her hips and molded the tight roundness of her buttocks. The smooth, pliant body of a young girl, Jo Ann thought ... a girl ready to become a woman.
Jo Ann finished putting on her make-up and walked back into the other room to dress, humming softly as she walked. Reaching into her dresser drawer, she pulled out a kelly green sweater. Then she hurried to the closet for a black skirt.
The outfit was young, she knew, but tonight she felt young. Young, fresh and revitalized. The stigma was just about gone, Jo Ann told herself, pulling on the sweater. For two weeks, she hadn't heard a word from Laura nor had she sought any. It was over. A new time in her life was beginning ... if tonight went as she planned.
The black skirt flared out in little box pleats around her hips. Jo Ann whirled in front of the full-length mirror, pleased at the thin figure she saw. For two weeks, that body had gone untouched. For two weeks, she had concentrated on nothing but getting her apartment and her brain in order. And soon she would reap her reward.
The sauce thickened as Jo Ann added the flour and mixed it with the rest of the ingredients. It was a nice feeling, cooking for a man, she told herself, adding a few extra drops of cream. Up until now, everything she had done for him had gone well. Their relationship had been light hearted and completely enjoyable ... as far as it went. Tonight, the final step.
Jo Ann leaned against the refrigerator and allowed herself a few moments of pleasant reflection. He had been so nice since she had taken the apartment. So helpful. She shouldn't really be concerned about how he would be to love.
First, he had helped her find that job with the employment agency. Then he had taken her shopping for house wares and everything else she wanted to buy. Dinner one night ... dancing last weekend. If anyone deserved her attentions, he was the one.
The sound of the doorbell jolted Jo Ann to rigid alertness. Her insides shook as an immediate urge to run and hide lunged forth to overwhelm her.
No!
Jo Ann forced herself stiffly forward. It was time to conquer or be swept under forever. Tonight ... now. She must do it.
"For you." Charlie stood grinning in the doorway and pushed the dozen roses toward Jo Ann. "They'll go with the new slip covers."
Jo Ann kissed him on the cheek and stepped back to let him in. "I don't even think I have a vase for them," she said, trying to remember if there was an empty milk bottle anyplace in the apartment.
"How about in there?" Charlie pointed to the new ice bucket Jo Ann had bought the previous week.
"Good boy." Jo Ann winked approvingly and hurried to fill the bucket with water. She glanced down at the flowers and smelled them. There was no card. She decided not to let it bother her.
"Something smells good." Charlie sniffed in the direction of the stove.
"Oh, no you don't." Jo Ann quickly blocked his path and reached for his coat. "You can wait another five minutes, can't you?"
"I'll do my best." Charlie walked back toward the sofa. "How about a drink in the meantime?"
"You know where the liquor is," Jo Ann called from the closet. "Fix me one, too, will you?"
"Can you hold your liquor?"
"You know I can't."
"Good," Charlie chuckled. "Then I'll make it a double."
Jo Ann forced herself to concentrate on the final preparations for dinner and not to look at Charlie. A flurry of excitement twitched through her body and threatened to make her drop the bowl she was holding. Mustn't think about it now, Jo Ann told herself. There would be plenty of time after dinner.
"Here you are." A hand appeared from behind her holding a glass. "You want soda?"
"No thanks." Jo Ann took the drink and set it on the sink. "If I'm going to get sick, I might as well do it right."
"That's the spirit." Charlie turned her around and picked up her glass. "But don't make me drink alone, for heaven's sake."
They both laughed. Jo Ann raised her glass to her lips and took a sip. No, tonight she wouldn't be drunk, she told herself. With Charlie, there would be no need to be. And if it was going to be good, she wanted to be right there to enjoy it all.
"So how was your day?" Jo Ann preferred small talk to thought.
"Not bad," Charlie answered from the sofa. "I got a phone call from Laura, though."
Jo Ann felt the color drain from her cheeks. She was glad that she wasn't facing him. "What did she have to say?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"She asked about you, if that's what you mean." Charlie's tone remained light and unconcerned.
"And what did you tell her?"
"That you were fine. What else?"
Jo Ann sighed softly and took another sip of scotch. "How is she doing?" she finally asked in a small voice.
"Seems she lost her job, too," Charlie said between mouthfuls of potato chips. "Something about a run-in with a guy named Stan something-or-other."
"Stan Wyatt?" Jo Ann turned quickly to face Charlie.
"Yeah, that's the one."
"What did they fight about?" Jo Ann knew what the answer would be and hoped that she might be wrong.
Charlie remained silent for a few moments. "Do I really have to tell you?"
"No." Jo Ann's voice was hardly more than a tense whisper. "I know."
"So let's drop it."
"But what's Laura going to do without a job?" Jo Ann's concern was sincere. "She's got an apartment to support and..."
"Nothing to worry about on that score," Charlie said, refilling his glass. "She's got some dame that's keeping her."
"Keeping her?"
"Yeah, the name's Leslie ... the one she went off with at the party that night."
Jo Ann didn't try to suppress an amused chuckle. Figures, she thought. The two of them deserved each other. "Is Laura happy, at least?"
"As happy as she's going to be for awhile. Give her a month."
"Is that the deadline?" Jo Ann asked, suddenly feeling much better.
"Usually." Charlie stood up. "Come on now. Are we going to gab all night or are you going to feed me."
"It's ready now." Jo Ann smiled. "Just pull up a chair."
The aroma of hot coffee hovered about the room as Jo Ann and Charlie sat side by side on the couch, sipping from their cups. Too full almost to move, they relaxed quietly, each enjoying the awareness of the other's closeness without the need for words.
Finally, Charlie leaned over and nodded. "That was good." His voice was soft, his manner contented.
Jo Ann smiled and leaned happily against his shoulder. There were so many things she wanted to say to him ... so many questions that she needed answers to. But she couldn't speak. Conversation could wait until later. For now, all she wanted was to have him beside her to emanate strength and inspiration for the hours yet to come.
"Do you think Laura hates me?" she asked suddenly. "Why should she."
"Because I left her."
Charlie leaned over and kissed Jo Ann's hair. "I think she knows you wouldn't have stayed very much longer anyway."
Jo Ann's eyes widened with surprise as she faced Charlie. She had never spoken to him about her feelings for Laura or for women. Yet he seemed to know what was happening inside her. He seemed to sense that she was different from the other women Laura had known and lived with.
"I didn't mean to make her angry," Jo Ann murmured, leaning back to rest against Charlie's shoulder. "I really thought..."
"Let's not talk about it. It's finished. Laura will be fine."
"I wish I could say the same for myself," Jo Ann thought aloud.
"What prompted that?" Charlie sounded slightly surprised. "You seem pretty well set up here."
"Oh, I don't know." Jo Ann took a deep drag on her cigarette and exhaled loudly. "Things have a way of running away from me. Almost as though I don't know where I'm headed."
Charlie didn't comment. Instead, he slid his arm around Jo Ann's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately.
Jo Ann put down her cigarette and wondered how to begin. The time had come, she knew. Dinner was over and the mood was mellow. She should do something ... say something, to let Charlie know what she wanted.
No words would come.
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Charlie asked. Jo Ann rubbed her cheek against the starched material of his white shirt and shrugged. "You mostly, I guess."
"How nice." Charlie's voice was sprightly. "Good thoughts, I hope."
"Very good thoughts," Jo Ann murmured and moved a little closer to him.
"You mind if I ask a personal question?" Charlie suddenly sounded serious.
"No, not really." Jo Ann wondered what was coming next.
"I just wanted to know," Charlie began, "if you're going to be able to get along without..."
"A woman?" Jo Ann made the question easier for him. "Yes."
"What do you think?" Jo Ann turned around to face Charlie's now uncomfortable expression.
"I haven't let myself think about it very much," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I know we've had a lot of laughs these past couple of weeks and all. But still..."
"You don't have to say it." Jo Ann felt the barrier of distrust growing up between them. "I know what you're thinking." She moved a few inches away across the sofa.
"Now don't start acting like she does," Charlie's tone grew authoritative. "I'm not thinking anything. I just asked a simple question. Don't you think I have a right to know?"
"I suppose." Jo Ann felt her momentary flash of anger subside and she moved back toward him. "I have no answer for you, though," she said, feeling a sudden need to be completely honest with Charlie. "Men have always been somewhat of a problem to me."
"Well, haven't you ... I mean, didn't you..." Charlie colored and looked away.
"Only once." Jo Ann couldn't help the ice that froze her words as she thought about that night in the park.
"And that was with a whole bunch of guys who weren't asking permission."
Charlie looked as though he were about to be ill. "I'm sorry." His voice was very soft. "I didn't mean to..."
"That's quite all right." Jo Ann was amazed by the evenness of her tone. It had happened and that was that. Why get hysterical over it. "I've survived the incident."
Charlie's half-smile was laden with embarrassment and he hurried back to his cup of coffee.
Jo Ann stared unseeing at the cafe curtains on the window above her. The evening was threatening to peter out unless she did something, she knew. But what was there to do? A girl just doesn't ask a guy to take her to bed to see if she'll like it.
"Would you like to go out to a movie or something?" Charlie sounded desperate to break the silence that had lengthened between them.
"No thanks," Jo Ann said bluntly. "I'd much rather stay here with you."
Charlie looked at her strangely for a moment. Then he took her into his arms and leaned down toward her face.
Jo Ann tasted the kiss and savored its flavor. The pleasant reaction she was experiencing pleased her. She thought about what it was like kissing Stan ... the roughness ... the almost cruel persistence of his hungry lips. Charlie was different. He was gentle. Jo Ann had nothing to be afraid of with him.
"Was it so terrible?" Charlie asked above her, seeming to read her thoughts.
"Not terrible at all," Jo Ann whispered. "In fact, very nice."
"Then how about another one?"
Jo Ann nodded and closed her eyes. Willingly, she parted her lips under the pressure of his mouth. She felt Charlie sliding down beside her on the sofa, but she didn't object. Maybe she wouldn't have to say anything at all. Maybe he would just know ... and act.
"You'll be okay." Charlie stroked Jo Ann's hair and held her against his chest. "I'm not worried about you."
"Well, at least one of us is convinced." Jo Ann worried for a moment if Charlie was going to leave things as they were. Why wasn't he trying to excite her, she wondered. Why wasn't he taking advantage of their closeness to sneak the intimacy of a moving hand ... a supposedly accidental touch?
Jo Ann turned her head, suddenly hating herself for her thoughts. Charlie wasn't Stan. She shouldn't think of him that way. It wasn't fair.
"Something wrong?" Charlie asked.
"I'm just not used to being with a gentleman, I suppose," Jo Ann admitted.
"I don't really have to be a gentleman, if you don't want me to." Charlie's tone was half-joking, half-serious.
Jo Ann looked up at him and wished Charlie could really read her mind. He was waiting now, she knew, for some signal. For permission to go ahead and do to her what every man wants to do to a woman. She must decide now ... once and for all.
"I want you," Jo Ann heard herself whisper.
Through half-closed eyes, she saw Charlie's smiling face looking down at her.
"I was waiting for you to say that." His tone was tender, his eyes kind.
Jo Ann buried her face in the hardness of his chest and hoped he would be good to her. Inside, she felt herself beginning to tremble. That old, irrational terror had taken its cue to come to life.
Charlie's kiss killed it.
Her flesh seemed to melt as she felt herself being pulled tighter into Charlie's strong embrace. She let her body go limp as he hugged her to him and covered her face with soft, moist kisses. The beginnings of desire tiptoed across her flesh ... and started to grow.
Jo Ann returned his kiss now with all the passion she could command. She knew she wanted him. Wanted him and needed him. And she hoped she could satisfy him as well.
Charlie's fingers toyed at the neckline of her sweater. Jo Ann lay very still, allowing him the intimacy of a caress. Finally, unable to wait for him to take the initiative, she grasped Charlie's hand and pressed it beneath the wool and onto her bra.
Her breasts came to instant life as Charlie sighed and kneaded the willing flesh beneath her sweater. Jo Ann leaned back and let him toy with her, enjoying the surges of excitement that pulsated outward from the tips of her quivering nipples. If only he would undress her, she thought. If only he'd...
The hand on her knee shocked and aroused her at the same time. Jo Ann forced herself not to move, as gentle fingers crept upward over warm, waiting flesh.
Jo Ann gritted her teeth and counted the seconds. Charlie's touch seemed to remain suspended above her thigh. Had he changed his mind? Did he suddenly think she was cheap and not worth his attentions?
A tugging sensation at the hem of her panties answered her question and allayed all fear. Raising her hips off the sofa, she allowed him to reach beneath and caress her soft flesh.
Charlie sighed and pressed his lips to the valley between Jo Ann's breasts. The sound of kisses reached her ears and she felt as though she might cry. It was so good ... so new and so wonderfully enjoyable. Why had she waited? Why had she been so frightened?
The buttons on her sweater opened easily and Jo Ann helped him undress her until she lay stripped to the waist in front of him.
"Beautiful..."
She heard Charlie whisper and she smiled. She was staring at the ceiling, but she knew he was staring at her. And for the first time, she wasn't embarrassed.
The soft skin of her naked belly yielded beneath his touch as Charlie reached up beneath her skirt. Closing her eyes again, Jo Ann allowed the fiery sensations to play over her flesh and raise her to a fever pitch of desire. What was he waiting for, she wondered? How could he control himself? But she didn't dare ask.
The thin panties slid down over her legs and Jo Ann kicked them off with her toes and allowed Charlie to unbutton her skirt. Every inch of her wanted him now. She could feel the desire, running in hot currents up her legs ... pounding breathlessly through her breasts.
And suddenly, he was gone.
Jo Ann glanced over, panic stricken. Her expression quickly turned to one of shy comprehension. Charlie winked and turned his back. Jo Ann did the same.
The feel of his naked leg brushing against her thigh roused her from her state of reverie. Jo Ann turned slowly, straining to hold herself back. With every passing second, flesh met flesh and her need increased. It felt like a year before she was in his arms again and his mouth was covering hers.
Jo Ann squirmed within his embrace and pressed herself flat against Charlie's trembling body. A mutual craving leaped and danced between them as they remained locked against each other, arms searching, hips rotating in slow, sensual rhythm.
Slowly, gently, Charlie pressed Jo Ann's shoulders down against the slip cover and covered her body with his own.
Jo Ann clung to him with all her strength and squeezed him hard. "Please..." she murmured. "Don't hurt me...
"You didn't even have to say that." Charlie's voice was husky with desire, but sober with control. Jo Ann relaxed and waited...
Slowly, gently, she felt her pleasure intensify. Charlie's body seemed to fuse with hers as they moved together ... searching ... straining to increase the sudden ecstasy that they shared.
Jo Ann gasped and pulled him toward her. She was lost now in a frantic, delicious pursuit of pleasure. She heard Charlie gasp, but his voice was lost beneath her own little cries of delight.
The sofa groaned beneath their hurried movements. Jo Ann threw her head back and dug her heels into the soft mattress. It was happening. This time she knew. For real. For keeps.
She moaned once ... and then they collapsed in each other's arms.
The shuddering of her body refused to subside. Jo Ann clawed the flesh of Charlie's back and tried to remain still. But patience had become an impossibility. There was something more she wanted. Something, again...
"Don't tell me you're not through yet." Charlie's voice was heavy with amusement and pride.
Jo Ann didn't answer. Instead, she pulled his face down to hers and moved to excite him.
Charlie's tongue darted between Jo Ann's lips and his hands slid over her glistening flesh. Soon, Jo Ann was moving with him...
"More..." Jo Ann heard herself. "Please..."
Charlie caught his breath and hurried to please her. A few minutes later, they arched together toward a second perfect union.
Jo Ann rolled over onto her stomach and lay exhausted and spent. But, although her limbs refused to move, her brain functioned at a breakneck pace. Twice ... and she still couldn't believe it. She needed more proof, more assurance.
"Oh, no you don't." Charlie forced her hand gently away and puffed silently on his cigarette.
Jo Ann lay back and curled up against his body, contented. "I just can't get over it," she whispered.
Charlie chuckled. "You don't really have to. But there's plenty of time."
"Yes, I suppose there is," Jo Ann murmured. And as she closed her eyes, she knew that the time remaining for her would never be wasted again.
