Bold and Brave-Hearted Page 16

  “As I recall, there’s still about a month’s worth of chili con carne in the cupboard. I’ll handle it.”

  “Good. You need a lift home?”

  He shook his head. “I can find my way.”

  “Wish me luck, then. ’Bye, Tommy, good to see you again.”

  Her high heels clicked a retreat back to the street. A moment later, the familiar sound of her car engine started, and quickly faded away.

  “Man, that is some foxy lady you’ve got there!”

  Tommy said in awe.

  “Yeah, she is that, my man.” But she wasn’t Jay’s foxy lady…and very likely never would be.

  STATION KUCP had a pipsqueak of a signal but Jay found it just as Kim’s voice announced, “Good evening, Paseo del Real. Welcome to the first, and I hope not the last, edition of ‘Late Night with Lydell’ on KUCP, your public radio station. I’m Kim Lydell, your host for the evening, and I think you’re going to find tonight’s show fascinating. For our first hour we’re going to be talking about the art of dance—”

  Jay groaned. Oil spills might have been more interesting.

  “—and with us via the phone are two experts. One is the world-renowned ballet director of the San Francisco Ballet Company and the other is one of his protegées, a young woman who gave up the ballet stage to become one of the most noted striptease dancers in the Tenderloin area of the same city. We’ll be right back after these announcements—”

  Jay burst out laughing. Damned if she hadn’t come up with something titillating after all!

  Lying down on the couch, he stacked his hands behind his head on a pillow and settled down to listen to the premier edition of “Late Night with Lydell.”

  A moment later, Cat joined him, his purr growing in volume as Kim began to introduce her guests.

  WOMEN WERE supposed to glow when they perspired; for the past three hours Kim had sweated from every pore in her body.

  With a silent sigh of relief, she announced that KUCP would be airing uninterrupted music till dawn, switched off her mike and leaned back in her chair. Unlike at KPRX-TV, there were no directors or producers on hand, only the station engineer, Joe Montoya. He gave her a boyish grin and a thumbs-up through the glass partition.

  “How do you think it went?” she asked the young man, her adrenaline still speeding through her veins. She hadn’t done any radio broadcasting since her college days and had been rusty on the equipment. But Joe had covered for her when she’d almost disconnected a caller.

  “Hey, you were great. Your lead-in had me hooked right from the top.”

  Thanks to Jay not letting her get away with a dull story.

  Kim did think her first segment had gone well. Finding a former ballerina who had turned burlesque dancer because as a single mother she couldn’t earn enough in ballet to make a living, had led right into the topic of adequate funding for the arts. Certainly a subject suitable for public radio, not at all outrageous. Kim might have exaggerated just a tad in the opening to call her guest a stripper—and burlesque was suddenly experiencing a resurgence of popularity—but the interview had seemed to flow nicely.

  Each of the next hour-long segments featuring guest experts on the recent coup in Indonesia and a specialist on techno-stock purchases, Kim considered adequate programming for such short notice. She’d do better next time. Assuming she got a next time.

  Shoving back her chair, she stood. Her shoulders and neck ached, her blouse was damp and stuck to her back.

  “I wish we’d gotten more calls.”

  Joe was shifting things around his control panel, setting up the next tape for the all-night show. “Your five calls are practically a record. We don’t exactly have a big audience, you know.”

  “I know.” Still, in some magical way she’d hoped for more interest from whatever audience they had. She’d hoped Jay would be one of her callers. Which was an unfair thought. Funding for the arts and military coups probably didn’t hold his interest long.

  She picked up her purse and dropped the pen she’d used to take notes into the side pocket. “I don’t know who told Mr. Abbott I was job-hunting, but I’m sure glad they did. I’d really like to land this spot.” Facial scarring didn’t show on the radio. No one would care what she looked like, only whether she did a good job of attracting an audience.

  “I was in Abbott’s office last night. I couldn’t help but overhear Councilwoman Anderson talking to him. I mean, it’s not like she even knows how to whisper.”

  Kim laughed. That was true enough.

  “I think I heard her mention your name.”

  “Really?” Kim knew Mrs. Anderson had connections at the university, but she’d seen her only yesterday at the chief’s birthday party. If she worked that swiftly at everything she did, Harlan Gray was definitely in trouble. “I’ll be sure to thank her when I see her again.”

  “I think Abbott’s the one who ought to be thanking her.” A surprising blush stained his cheeks. “I could listen to you talk all night.”

  Pleased with his approval, she slung her purse over her shoulder. “Well, I’m off, Joe. Thanks for your kind words and for keeping me on track tonight.”

  “Wait a sec and I’ll walk you out.”

  “You don’t have to.” She’d parked right behind the building. “I can find my way.”

  “It’s part of campus security, ma’am. Women aren’t supposed to walk alone after dark.”

  “Good point.” Although she wished Joe hadn’t called her ma’am. He wasn’t that much younger than she was, maybe in his early twenties and still in college. Somehow his gesture of respect made her feel ancient.

  She waited patiently for him to walk her downstairs and safely out to her car. Once he had, she thanked him and drove off. The streets of Paseo were eerily deserted at this hour, the stores dark. Even the big gas station at Paseo and Broad Street was closed.

  She considered going back to her own house. But her nerves were still jittery, her body filled with unspent energy.

  Darn it all! Foolish or not, she wanted to be with Jay.

  The lights were off when she arrived. Of course, there wasn’t much point in him turning them on, since he couldn’t see, but she worried he was asleep. Maybe he hadn’t even listened to the show. She didn’t want to wake him.

  Quietly, she slipped into the house. The streetlight cast the darkened living room in faint shadows. One of them moved, forming itself into the shape of a broad-shouldered, lean-hipped man.

  “Hey, blue eyes. You knocked ’em dead.”

  Hearing his praise made her spirits soar. “You listened?”

  “Sure I did. What guy wouldn’t want to check out a stripteaser?”

  She eased toward him. “Burlesque dancer. Very high class.”

  “A single mother making it on her own. Good for her.”

  She slipped her arms around his midsection and rested her head against his chest. He had listened and cared. A commentator couldn’t ask for much more than that—except a larger audience.

  “We didn’t get many calls.” You didn’t call, she wanted to say.

  He nuzzled his cheek across the top of her head and his hands stroked down her back. “Some of us guys were too busy listening and fantasizing about you to pick up the phone.”

  “From a professional perspective,” she whispered, wanting to purr like a kitten, “I shouldn’t come between the audience and my guests.”

  “Trust me, nobody will mind.” His hands covered her buttocks, pulling her closer. “I don’t know about you having a night job, though. Might cut into your sex life.”

  “Da boom-boom-boom, da boom.” She gyrated against his arousal, stripteaser style. “Or make it more interesting.”

  Groaning, he scooped her up in his arms, and Kim was confident there was no better way in the world to expend surplus adrenaline than by making love with Jay.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m going stir crazy.” Kim rinsed her coffee cup a
nd set it on the draining board to dry. She and Jay had slept late that morning. Since then she’d paced the floor waiting for a call from Mr. Abbott, knowing full well it was too soon for the university to have made a decision. Twice she’d checked to make sure she’d arranged call forwarding correctly—cursing her thrift for never having purchased a cell phone she could carry with her. Then she changed the message on Jay’s answering machine in case she missed Mr. Abbott’s call altogether.

  “Why don’t we get out of the house for a while?” she suggested.

  Jay shoved back his chair from the kitchen table and picked up his empty cereal bowl. “Great. We can go bowling. There ought to be open lanes this time of day.”

  She scowled at him. “Beyond the fact you can’t see the pins, you’re still supposed to be taking it easy.” Though as she thought about it, Jay was amazingly athletic—and adventuresome—when making love. For that matter, she’d surprised herself in that regard, too. No wonder she’d slept so soundly.

  “Okay, let’s go to the beach.”

  “Evidently your new watch doesn’t have a calendar function. It’s still early spring.”

  “That’s the best time for walking along the beach. No crowds. No pretty girls in bikinis distracting us serious guys from—”

  “Right. There are no girls because it’s cold at the beach this time of year.”

  “It’s not raining, is it?”

  “No,” she admitted. “In fact it’s sunny.”

  “Perfect. Get your jacket, and we’ll go by Vince’s Deli, pick up some sandwiches and pop and have a picnic. It’ll be great.”

  Lacking a better idea, Kim agreed. It might indeed be relaxing to stroll along the beach. At least she’d stop staring at the phone, willing it to ring, and get her mind off her troubles. Jay probably needed a change of pace, too. Only a few more days until he’d learn if the explosion had blinded him or permanently impaired his vision; a few more days until he’d see her scars for the first time. Unless she left first.

  A sick feeling filled her with dread. What would she see in his eyes the first time he looked at her?

  After showering, she dressed casually in jeans and tennis shoes, applied her makeup lightly and was ready to go. Wearing cutoffs, a stenciled T-shirt and ancient running shoes without socks, Jay was waiting for her.

  Unerringly, her gaze was drawn to his muscular legs roughened by a light furring of brown hair. “You’ll freeze without long pants,” she pointed out.

  “Naw. If I get cold, I’ll go for a run to warm up.”

  “I hope you don’t expect me to keep up with you.”

  “Only in bed, blue eyes. Only in bed.”

  That she could do—with pleasure.

  She drove them to Vince’s Deli, a hole-in-the-wall shop a block off the main thoroughfare in the heart of the business district. Two glass cases displayed a variety of cut meats, pasta dishes and salads. A half-dozen round tables provided limited seating, but most of the business was takeout. They were too early for the lunch crowd, so the deli was empty.

  Guiding Jay through the maze of tables, she stopped at the counter and looked up at the sandwich selections posted on the wall. “Let’s see, they’ve got turkey, roast beef, meatball—”

  “I’ll have pastrami on a roll with extra mustard. Vince has got the best pastrami in the county—guaranteed—and mustard so hot you taste it all the way down.”

  “Okay, I’ll have the same.”

  His head swiveled in her direction. “You like hot mustard?”

  “Sometimes. According to my mother, it’s a throwback to my peasant ancestry. She insists it’s gauche to disguise perfectly good food with spicy condiments.”

  Jay laughed. “Then I must have peasant stock on both sides of my family tree. As far as I’m concerned, catsup, mustard and hot sauce are the three major food groups.”

  Kim chuckled. She had seen him doctor his food more than once and been concerned he’d added too much hot sauce. But he’d never even blinked.

  An elderly man appeared from the back room. Barely taller than the glass case, he had white hair, angular features and a hooked nose so large it looked too big for his narrow face.

  “Jay, my boy! Where you been keepin’ yourself, eh? You don’t like deli no more?”

  “Hey, Vince. Yeah, I still like deli. I’ve been busy is all.”

  Jay reached across the counter and Vince took his hand in both of his, lowering his voice. “I heard on the news about your eyes, son. You gonna be okay?”

  “No sweat, Vince. I’m gonna be fine.”

  Vince shot Kim a curious look. “Busy with this pretty lady, I betcha. No time for your old friends, eh?”

  “I’m here now, aren’t I?” Jay introduced Kim briefly. “We want two of your best pastrami sandwiches on buns with double mustard, okay?”

  “You got it, son.” Vince went busily to work slicing buns and layering mustard, pickles and pastrami on the bread but it didn’t slow down his ability to talk. “You know, when this boy worked here I couldn’t keep enough pastrami on hand. I swore he kept hiding it in his hollow leg and takin’ it home to his mama.”

  Jay laughed. “I ate every bite, Vince.”

  “You worked here?” Kim asked.

  “Among other places.”

  “He was the best worker I ever had,” Vince insisted. “Made deliveries, swept out the back room, worked up front here at the counter, and never a nickel missing from the till. Not ever. Can’t get help like him no more. Boys ain’t interested in working. They just wanna loaf on the job.”

  Kim imagined Jay had never loafed a day in his life, until recently, and then not by his own choice. It had to grate on him terribly to have his activities so restricted. To feel suddenly useless.

  Vince placed the two wrapped sandwiches on the top of the counter. “You know, lady, you catch this boy and you’ll have a good one. No grass growing under his feet. He’ll always be able to provide for his family. He’s a firefighter, you know that?” He spoke with such pride, he could have been Jay’s father.

  “Yes, I know. He rescued me.”

  “That a fact? Well, then…” Vince glanced from Kim to Jay and back again and smiled broadly. “He’ll take good care of you, you’ll see.”

  Kim ducked her head to shield both her discomfort and her scars. She shouldn’t allow Jay’s friends to think their relationship was a permanent one. Building a lifetime together based on hot sex and spicy mustard would be courting failure even if he could deal with her scarred face.

  JAY DIRECTED her to one of his favorite beaches not far from Avila where the cliff gave way to a sandy stretch rarely frequented by tourists.

  “There ought to be a dirt pullout along here,” he said. “Big enough for maybe two or three cars.”

  “I see it.” The car bumped as it eased off the road into the dirt. “We’re pretty high above the beach here. How do we get down?”

  “There’s a path and stairs. I’ll show you.”

  She switched off the engine. “Why does that sound like it’s going to be the blind leading the blind?”

  “Damn, I didn’t know you were blind, too. I never would have let you drive.”

  She gave him a stinging shoulder punch, and he laughed.

  A strong, steady wind blew in from the Pacific, catching Jay full force as he got out of the car. They were near a point of land here, unprotected from the elements until they descended to the horseshoe-shaped beach below.

  He hooked his arm around Kim’s shoulders and tried to get his bearings from the feel of the wind in his face and the sound of the waves rolling against the beach down below. Her floral scent, the feminine slope of her shoulder distracted him, and he had to redouble his efforts in order to concentrate at all.

  “That way,” he said, pointing. “There ought to be a couple of big boulders about two feet apart right on the edge of the cliff. They mark the top of the path that leads to the stairs.”

  “If you say so.”

&
nbsp; “After my mother got real sick, I used to bring her down here. She couldn’t make the climb down to the beach and back up again so we’d sit on those rocks and eat our lunch. She said just being here made her feel better.”

  “You were very close to your mother, weren’t you?”

  “We only had each other. Before she got so sick—” His voice caught on the memories, both good and bad. “I suppose I used to envy kids who had dads and brothers and sisters, but I never doubted for a minute that Mom loved me. She would have taken a bullet for me, if she’d had to. I would have done the same for her.”

  But there hadn’t been any way for Jay to make her well. He’d had to watch her weaken and her condition deteriorate one day at a time, year after year, although her spirit never faltered. Not until the very last. He’d never forget her courage. Kim had shown the same determined bravery the night she’d been trapped by the earthquake.

  “Come on, let’s see if we can find us some abalone shells on the beach. I used to have so many, my mom finally said it was them or me. There wasn’t room in the house for all of us.”

  “I used to collect shells. I don’t know what happened to them, though.”

  “Well, then, we’ll start a new collection for you.” And maybe whenever she looked at the shells they found today, Kim would remember him and how good they’d been together.

  When Kim spotted the path Jay had been talking about and the steep steps to the beach, she didn’t want to consider how they’d get back up to the road. Little wonder his mother had stayed at the top.

  “Use the railing,” she warned when they reached the stairs. The sand that had blown across the steps made them slippery.

  “Okay, I’ll slide down the—”

  “Jay!” She grabbed for him before she realized he was only pretending to slide down the railing. She groaned and leaned her head against his shoulder. “You and your stunts are going to be the death of me.”

  “I certainly hope not,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head in a sweet caress.

  When they reached the beach, he took her hand, swinging their arms together as they walked side by side.