Going Topless

Going Topless

What does predictable Susannah Carmack do when confronted with her late husband's infidelity? What any self-respecting widow might. She allows her sister, Chelsie, to drag her on vacation to Amsterdam, where she gets lost in the Red Light District, is pursued by a younger man, and sunbathes on a topless beach. But will going topless help her escape the pain of the past? Chelsie Joyner has always believed a roll in the hay can cure what ails her. But her free lifestyle never helped her forget Martijn, a married professor with whom she had an affair five years ago while doing graduate work in Amsterdam. She's determined to find closure on this trip. But when her adulterous affair is made known, can Susannah, still smarting from her husband's betrayal, forgive Chelsie for the ultimate sin? Sensuality Rating: SIZZLING Genre: Erotic Chick Lit/Women's Fiction Length: Full Novel (62,000 words)

GOING TOPLESS

Renee Knowles

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THIS E-BOOK: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to one LEGAL copy for your own personal use. It is ILLEGAL to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. GOING TOPLESS Copyright © 2007 by Renee Knowles ISBN: 1-933563-74-5 First E-book Publication: December 2007 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2007 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Dedication This book is dedicated to the memory of my dad, Ron Krupka. The best dad a daughter could ever have. Also, to my wonderful husband and my family for their unwavering support. Renee Knowles

GOING TOPLESS Renee Knowles Copyright © 2007

Chapter 1

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 1. Always wear sexy underwear. A black lace demi bra, a red satin peek-a-boo thong, lace-topped fishnet stockings. When you dress sexy on the inside, you feel sexy on the outside, and that can go a long way in catching the attention of Mr. Right. Monday, 7:00 am Denver, Colorado Susannah Carmack pulled on a pair of basic white cotton panties and searched frantically for her one pair of run-free black pantyhose. Today was definitely a pantyhose day, no matter that the temperature would climb into the nineties. This morning she was meeting with the owner of the trendiest Mexican restaurant in Denver’s Lower Downtown. With any luck her company, Saucy-lito, would become their sole supplier of salsas, mixes and condiments. That would be one hell of a coup. She finally found her pantyhose under a variety of rarely, if ever, used lingerie. Susannah pulled them on, teetering from side to side as she balanced, eventually bumping into her nightstand and knocking to the floor the birthday

Going Topless

7

card her mother had sent her last week. Happy 39th, she’d written. Oh, and please read the article I’ve enclosed, honey. It’s time to think about moving on. The article her mother had clipped from some women’s confession magazine was titled “27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man.” Susannah knew her mother meant well. Her mother always did. Yet, she couldn’t resist sending her mom back an article from the latest issue of Professional Woman, titled “20 Reasons a Woman Doesn’t Need a Man.” Reason number one: vibrators. Her mom hadn’t mentioned anything about moving on since then. She finished dressing and was heading to her blue Chrysler Sebring when she remembered the appointment with her lawyer this afternoon. He said she needed to bring the title of Stephen’s Corvette with her. Susannah punched in the code on the garage keypad and slid under the rising door. She rarely parked in the garage. There was never any room, what with the Corvette and the mounds of lawn equipment her husband had bought. Equipment she’d rarely used since Stephen’s death a year ago. Pulling open the heavy driver’s side door of the yellow ‘69 Corvette, she tried to remember where Stephen had kept the title. She slid the seat forward and opened a black metal box behind it. There were registration papers, insurance papers long since expired, but no title. Then she saw a lone piece of pale green stationery folded over twice. Her chest tightened. It looked like such a very feminine piece of stationery, with embossing on the outer corners. Curious, she unfolded the paper and read. Her breath caught in her throat. Each word, each syllable, leapt off the page with the force of a twister. It was short, playful and signed Love, Diane XXOO. Diane... Who the hell was she? Susannah crumbled the paper into her palm, biting her nails into the letter so hard she felt her pulse beneath it. Her husband... Her husband. Her husband who’d been her companion since the seventh grade, whom she’d sainted in her mind. She hadn’t so much as kissed another man since his death... That same husband had been having an affair.

8

Renee Knowles

**** 11:30 am Saucy-lito store, 16th Street Mall “You can’t be sure from this note that Stephen was unfaithful,” her sister Chelsie said. “Did you read the damn thing?” Susannah was still on edge after her bumbled meeting an hour ago. She’d barely been able to speak coherently to the restaurant’s owner because she’d been so distracted. Chelsie shoved the note onto the counter and shook her head, her long golden-brown braids doing a dance. “I admit it’s suspicious, but…” “Suspicious?” Susannah spat. “It said, ‘Thanks for the great weekend. Can’t wait until Barbados, sweetie.’ Hardly sounds ambiguous to me.” She remembered the Barbados trip, and her husband’s protests about how it was not going to be fun in the sun, but it would be work, work, work. “Besides, a wife knows.” Chelsie snorted. “I hate to point out the obvious, but if ‘a wife knows’ then you wouldn’t just be discovering this now.” She moved to the center display case and picked up a cracker from a sample tray. “You might be making something out of nothing, ya know. You’ve been known to do that on occasion.” Her sister was right. And how Susannah wished this was one of the occasions. “If you ask me, mon,” Toby, Susannah’s manager cut in, standing up from where he’d been stocking shelves, “all this is alms ouse—nonsense. Not a damn thing you can do about it at this point.” The Jamaican shook the dust off his hands from the boxes and trained his dark eyes on Susannah. “It isn’t nonsense. I need to know—” “Hon, you’ll never know.” Chelsie crossed her arms over her chest, which was covered by a t-shirt proclaiming ‘Fur is for Old Geezers’. Another one of her many causes, but from the shirt it wasn’t clear if she was after the fur wearers or old people. Yet her sister’s words echoed in Susannah’s head. She would never know the truth.

Going Topless

9

“Suz,” Chelsie said, Toby moving to stand next to her. “We’ve been thinking. You haven’t been on a vacation since Phoenix. And that was three years ago. It’s time for you to have some fun.” “Fun?” Susannah blinked. “I have too much work. I have to try and repair any damage I did at this morning’s meeting with Mr. Ramírez. Maybe there’s still a chance he’ll take us on.” Susannah noticed an odd look pass between Toby and Chelsie. “This store consumes you,” Chelsie said. “Since Stephen’s death all you do is work. You might as well be dead yourself. I mean, when’s the last time you even thought about sex?” Violent heat rose in Susannah’s cheeks. “None of your damned business.” “Exactly. You live in a cocoon. You need to get out of this city, away from the memories, and remember what it’s like to get your groove on.” “Sex doesn’t solve everything, Chelsie. It’s too soon.” Go on vacation to have sex? Was her baby sister insane? The last thing Susannah was going to do was go on a trip. She needed to keep her mind occupied, not free it up. Chelsie wasn’t going to let it go. “Remember what a blast we had in Phoenix, drinking margaritas and hanging by the pool?” Phoenix, Susannah thought. Stephen had attended a conference there, and she’d brought Chelsie to keep her company during the day. Susannah searched her mind. Had she been introduced to a Diane there? “Well, Toby, I guess she agrees. I’ll take your silence as a yes, Suz, you’ll go.” Chelsie reached into her purse for something. “No!” Susannah protested. “I can’t leave Saucy-lito.” “A-w-w,” Toby drew the word out, “you hurt my feelings. Come now, mon, I’ve been working here for almost two years. You know I can take care of things.” Her manager smiled a slightly crooked grin, his teeth blazing white against his smooth, coffee-colored skin. That charismatic smile had charmed many a female customer. Susannah had no idea how she’d let this discussion go this far. “I can’t go away right now. It just isn’t possible.” Munching on a chip from a table with a sign proclaiming "Spice up Dinner Tonight with Saucy-lito Dips," Chelsie advanced on her. “Enough of these

10

Renee Knowles

excuses. For over a year, you’ve grieved, worked yourself ragged, and nearly sapped all the energy out of everyone around you.” “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never cried on anyone’s shoulder.” “I know, Susannah. But all this silent, unspoken tension is exhausting everybody—most of all you.” Chelsie moved back to stand by Toby and placed her slender fingers on his muscled arm. At five-foot-five, she was dwarfed by the six-foot-four Jamaican, who positioned his hand on hers in a show of unity. “Now hear us out.” Susannah’s mouth dropped. They were tag-teaming her. “You’ve been a martyr for the past year,” Chelsie began. “Enough already. Stephen wouldn’t have wanted it. We don’t want it either. Hell, sis, you look like shit. You need to start living again.” She softened her face. “Sorry, but I have to give it to you straight. You’ve tried it your way. Now—” she glanced up at Toby and he nodded to her “—try it ours.” Tears stung her eyes as Susannah finally closed her jaw. “What’s this? An intervention? You’ve joined forces to make over the lonely widow?” Chelsie rolled her blue eyes. “Not make you over, hon. Just refresh your attitude. Look, we’ve been trying to find a time to talk to you about this for the past two days. Toby has already agreed to work whatever hours he has to, to keep the shop going while you’re gone.” Susannah turned to the opened box of salsas Toby had abandoned and started placing them on a shelf. “I do not look like shit. And I don’t need any damn vacation.” She twirled to face them, wielding a jar as if it were a weapon. “I was doing perfectly well until I found that freakin’ note this morning.” “Tap di blinkin lyin.” Toby reached out to gently take the jar from Susannah’s shaking hand. “Girl, you’ve suffered enough. You need to make a change. This time, we’re not giving you a choice.” Although he’d been a U.S. citizen for over ten years, he tended to slip back into his native slang when he was riled. Chelsie held up a printout. “Our plane reservations. Non-refundable. Eticket. I expect you to pack your bags and be ready to go one week from today.” Susannah started to protest, but then caught a glimpse of herself in the oval mirror behind the counter. Damn. She did look like shit. Dark circles framed her large, brown eyes. She closed those eyes to try and block out the stares of her

Going Topless

11

conspirators. Had she been hiding for the last year? Only living a half-life? “Look, sis, my lunch hour is nearly over. I have to get back to work.” Susannah opened her eyes, and a long breath escaped her. Toby said, “Susannah, you’ve given your all to your business this past year. And it’s paid off. But you’re burned out. You’re not going to be any good for Saucy-lito until you take some time to recharge.” Susannah remembered how she’d royally messed up the meeting this morning. Deep inside she knew they were both right. She’d been on a downslide for a year, and she didn’t know how to pull herself out. Life was about taking chances. Hadn’t someone once said that? “All right. I’ll go.” Oh my God. Did that come from her mouth? Chelsie broke into a bright smile. “Don’t you even want to know where the hell you’re going?” Susannah laughed. At this point she wasn’t even sure she cared. “Yeah. Bring it on.” “Amsterdam,” Chelsie said. “Amsterdam?” Europe? “Why not the Caribbean, or the Florida Keys? A little sun, a little tanning lotion...” “You’ll love it in the Netherlands, Suz. It’s amazing there, and it’s easy to get around because most people speak English. Besides, this way there can be no hiding at the beach.” Chelsie had spent a year in Amsterdam doing graduate work at the university. She’d had a special fondness for the place ever since. Susannah feigned an innocent look. “I would never hide at the beach. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Yeah. Right.” Chelsie waved her off and left Saucy-lito, promising to call later. “All right now,” Toby said with a knowing twinkle in his dark eyes. “Don’t you be thinking of ways to hide yourself in Amsterdam.” Susannah half-nodded and gave him a tight-lipped smile. She was way

12

Renee Knowles

ahead of him on that one. **** 3:30 pm Downtown Denver Jack Callahan wasn’t a man Susannah thought of often, but this afternoon, sitting in front of his polished mahogany desk, the full force of his dark good looks hit her. Suddenly his presence was very, very real. All this stuff about moving on must finally be getting to her. Her lawyer was dressed in a pair of deep-blue jeans and a burgundy and white striped golf shirt. And Susannah couldn’t help but notice how nice his backside filled out those jeans when he rose to pull a file out of the cabinet. “I’m actually on vacation this week,” Jack said as he turned around, forcing Susannah to swiftly raise her eyes to where they should be—his face. Evidently she wasn’t swift enough. His gaze met hers with a surprised, but pleased gleam. Busted. “That’s why my assistant isn’t here today.” Jack placed the file on the desk. “I don’t normally look as if I’m heading out to a ball game when I come to work. You said it was important, so I made an exception.” He smiled. A warm, welcoming smile, like the ones Stephen used to casually toss at her. Only Jack wasn’t Stephen. Stephen had been a golden boy, in every way. Jack had thick dark hair, with clear blue eyes and a deep dimple on the left side of his face. Faint, distinguished lines framed his temples. She squirmed a little. God, he was hot. How come she’d never noticed before? Susannah realized he was staring at her and that she’d not responded. She sat up in her chair. “Oh, well, thanks for coming in. I only hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. I mean, I didn’t intend to take you away from your vacation.” He shook his head. “Susannah, you could never be an inconvenience.”

Going Topless

13

A tingle swept through her. The way he’d said that. Was he flirting with her? When was the last time a man had even looked at her? Or had she been so dead inside she hadn’t noticed? Well, she was noticing now. A flush crept up her neck. And it wasn’t due to the hot temperature outside. She tried to shift the conversation back to business. “Well, it felt like it was time to give the car to someone who would actually put it to some use.” Stephen’s Corvette in the garage only served as a stark reminder of his absence, and after this morning she definitely wanted to be rid of it. It was the last piece of the estate she needed to get in order. Jack picked up a pen. “For what it’s worth, I believe you’re doing the right thing. Time to move on.” Moving on seemed to be the theme of the day, the week, hell, maybe the whole damn year. “So, you wish to gift it to your brother-in-law and his wife?” “Yes,” Susannah said, relieved to get to the task at hand. They spent the next quarter hour discussing the particulars, and Susannah gave Jack the title she’d finally found at the bottom of that same metal box where she’d found Diane’s note. When it was time to go, he shook her hand. The feel of her small hand surrounded by his large, smooth palm was oddly comforting to her. They stood for a moment, neither letting go until Susannah came to her senses and pulled away. Jack cleared his throat. “Well. I need to pick up my son from my ex’s and head over to the Rockies game.” His son? An ex-wife? Hmm. Susannah picked up her briefcase. “Heck of a loss yesterday. Twelve to nothing. Their pitching stinks this year.” She glanced up and saw a glint of admiration in his blue eyes. “Their pitching stinks every year.” He laughed. “Didn’t realize you were a baseball fan.” “Yeah. Growing up, my dad and I used to watch all the Sunday games together. Dad was a Yankees fan, had been since he was a boy. And when

14

Renee Knowles

Colorado got a team, he bravely stuck to his first allegiance, ticking off quite a few of his friends.” Her dad had been an amazing man, and they’d kept up their Sunday tradition until he’d been too sick to watch TV. Jack rubbed his jaw. “You know, you’re more than welcome to join us. My boy is six and tends to be a little unruly, but I’ll do my best to keep him in line.” A small ache formed in her chest. A son. How Stephen and she had wanted a son. “Um. No. Thank you,” Susannah said over the lump in her throat. A date? It sounded suspiciously like one... She wasn’t ready. “I need to get back to the store. Thanks for all your help and for coming in on your time off.” She turned to leave, conscious of his eyes on her. He must be really interested to invite her out. Her stomach did a small bounce. Feminine confidence booming as it hadn’t in ages, Susannah put a little sway in her walk as she exited his office. Her pencil skirt was slim, and she hoped he would notice her curves. She couldn’t resist a peek back. Wahoo! He was looking. And he appeared to like what he saw. Halleluiah. She still had it! At least she did until she forgot about the small step down from his office to the waiting area. Her heel caught the lip of the step, and she stumbled forward. Arms flailing, she toppled to her knees and dropped her briefcase to the floor. Oh, shit! Jack ran to her. “Are you all right?” She wanted to shout, “No, dammit! I’m not all right. My dead husband was unfaithful to me, my baby sister wants to run my life, and now I’m a lumbering idiot on top of it!” Instead, she rose as gracefully as she could manage, her cheeks burning as hot as a habanero pepper, and commented that at least she hadn’t fallen flat on her face. Then she quickly picked up her briefcase and raced out of the office, not looking back.

Going Topless

15

Chapter 2

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 2. Play hard to get. Tease him. Make him wonder. Don’t give away all your feminine secrets too soon. A man loves a good challenge. Make him work for it. Monday, 7:15 pm Boulder, Colorado Ring. Chelsie Joyner heard the phone and fumbled to find her key, finally pulling it from her purse and into her apartment lock. Ring. Dammit, the stupid thing wouldn’t budge. She twisted and jerked it around until it finally turned. B-e-e-p. Chelsie slammed the door. She missed another call because of the damn apartment key. She threw down her purse and kicked off her shoes, sending them flying in different directions. It was probably only Mattie. She’d left three messages at work, but Chelsie had been on a deadline and hadn’t called back. Her imbecile boss had been at her all afternoon. He had a major presentation to the State Senate first thing in the morning. A bill was being voted on to determine whether or not All-Terrain Vehicles should be allowed to continue to use public land, causing environmental damage and noise pollution. Her office’s case, on behalf of the state’s environmental department, was that the ATVs shouldn’t be allowed to roam. Chelsie and her co-worker had been writing the speech for a week, and she could recite it in her sleep. Yet her boss was convinced they all needed to go over it one more time.

16

Renee Knowles

So now it was after seven, she hadn’t eaten, and she had three messages blinking on her machine. She hit the play button. B-e-e-p. “Hi, honey. Just Mom. Did you talk to Susannah? Is she going to go? Let me know how it went. Bye.” Of course, her mother always called about Susannah. Chelsie hit save to remind her to call her mother. The machine beeped again. “Where are you? I’ve left messages all over town.” The caller let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Call me. It’s important.” Mattie. Chelsie had better call her first, since her friend was the travel agent who’d booked the trip to Amsterdam. Mattie often left multiple messages, but maybe there was a problem. B-e-e-p. “Chelsie, hey, I’ve been thinking about you. Didn’t get a hold of you yesterday, but I’ve got tickets to the new musical at the Pavilion. They’re for seven o’clock tomorrow night. Love for us to go together. Call me.” Chelsie quickly deleted the message. It was Richard. Her chest tightened, as it always did when things began to get complicated. She’d learned the lesson early on that the old proverb of reaping what you sow doesn’t necessarily apply to love. Sometimes the more you gave the less you got. What did Richard want from her anyway? How many times had she told him no? So, they shared some sushi, and had a night of really great sex. Just because he had the sleek, athletic body of a runner and could keep a rhythm going all night long, didn’t mean he was going to be more to her than a one-night stand. Like all the others. The constriction in her chest worsened until she felt like she might suffocate. She thought she’d become very good at one-night stands. It almost didn’t bother her anymore. She had a compartment for everything in her life, including sex. And as for her heart... Well, she liked to think of it as being carefully tucked away, maybe in an old Birkenstock box in the back of her closet, with the label “Danger: May Implode at Any Time” on it. Then this was why she was going back to Amsterdam. Why she had to go back. Susannah wasn’t the only one who needed to move on.

Going Topless

17

B-u-z-z. Now what? Chelsie bolted to the door and opened it, not surprised to see Mattie standing there in a green jogging suit that had seen better days, her bobbed, dark hair a frazzled mess. “Hey,” Chelsie said. “I just got your message. Richard called, too. Can you believe he’s still hanging on?” Mattie’s brow furrowed. “I think you should give the poor guy a chance. He did send you that yummy candy bouquet, didn’t he?” Chelsie’s stomach did an involuntary flutter. He really had held on longer than most guys. “That’s so done. As if I would eat that much chocolate.” “I don’t understand why you punish these guys so. A lot of the men you meet are really intelligent, nice, normal guys. What’s wrong with them?” What’s wrong with them? Chelsie thought. They aren’t Martijn. “I’d be happy to take your leftovers,” Mattie said. Mattie Choi had always followed in Chelsie’s footsteps. Ever since fifth grade when the class bully, Kristie Steppenhammer, had lit Mattie’s books on fire by throwing matches in the new, quiet girl’s locker, and Chelsie had come to her defense by slamming her fist into Kristie’s jaw with a satisfying crack. Chelsie had been suspended for a week, and poor Kristie had to have her jaw wired shut. But the bitch had never bothered Mattie again. “H-e-l-l-o.” Mattie waved her hand in front of Chelsie. “It’s not like you to space out.” “Must be work,” Chelsie said. “So what’s so urgent? Didn’t hit a snag in the trip planning did you?” Mattie plunked down on Chelsie’s earthy green futon and looked away. Uh-oh. Chelsie knew that look. “What’s wrong? I thought you said everything was cool. Did the price change?” She was already using a chunk of her house savings to pay for this trip. Her friend’s eyes swung back to her. “Well, no, nothing like that. It’s just that an unexpected…er…situation has arisen.” She paused and Chelsie thought she might have to physically wring it out of her, but then Mattie continued, “I booked three tickets to Amsterdam.”

18

Renee Knowles

“Three? It’s just me and Suz.” “Not anymore!” Mattie shot up from the futon with a huge grin on her face. “I’ve decided to join you! Won’t that be fun?” “Join us?” Chelsie was shocked. And maybe a little pissed. How dare Mattie not ask first? “It’s okay, isn’t it?” Her friend’s face grew tight, a deep line etching between her brows. “Um, yeah, sure. I mean, I told Suz it would just be us. Wow. Uh, what a great surprise.” She feigned a smile, but evidently her friend caught the tension in her voice. Mattie’s face fell. “I did have to pull a few strings to arrange for us to get those incredibly low fares, ya know. Especially on such short notice. And I dropped everything else I was working on when you called.” Guilt washed over Chelsie, and she turned away from Mattie to grab a bottle of water from her fridge. Her friend relied on her for so much. What to wear, what to say on a date. Sometimes she hated the pressure of running Mattie's life as well as her own. No sooner had the thought passed through her head that an idea formed. A selfish scheme, but one she couldn’t resist. Mattie might be just the person to distract Susannah and give Chelsie some time alone to accomplish her own goal. She swiveled back to Mattie, who stared at her with wide, dark eyes, holding her ground. “I know you handled everything, Mattie,” she began in a soothing voice. “And of course, you’re welcome to join us. Sorry if I sounded rude. I was just surprised is all.” “That’s cool.” Mattie smiled. “I’m so excited about going to Europe. This is going to be the best trip ever.” It would be interesting, that was for sure. Mattie started for the door, “Oh, and call Richard. Give the guy a chance.” After Chelsie had eaten and showered, she lay in bed, Mattie’s word’s echoing in her mind. She picked up her mobile phone from the nightstand and fingered the keys. Should she call Richard? She remembered the slight scruff of his beard scraping her chest as he

Going Topless

19

sucked on her nipples. And his long, smooth fingers rubbing her between her legs until she screamed. She closed her eyes and pictured his large, blue gaze and strong, squared jaw. But soon the vision faded, and an older, more angular man’s face took Richard’s place in her mind. She opened her eyes and slammed her phone back onto the nightstand. She wasn’t ready for something more with Richard or anyone else. It was time to face her past. Or else she wouldn’t have much of a future.

20

Renee Knowles

Chapter 3 27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 3. Be adventurous. Don’t be afraid to try something new. Scuba diving, parasailing, sushi. Let him know you are willing to experiment—both outside the bedroom and inside, too. Monday, One Week Later 1:00 am London Time She’d done it. Susannah had left her store and her comfortable house and was now zipping thirty-five thousand feet above the Atlantic. She unlatched her silver watch and changed the hands to read European time. Chelsie sat next to her snoring lightly, and Susannah elbowed her to get her to turn the other way. Chelsie’s friend Mattie sat across from them on the 767, with her seat back as far as it would go, sleeping as soundly as her sister. How people slept on planes was something Susannah would never understand. Stephen had always been napping before the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign had been turned off. She ran a hand through her hair and then absentmindedly thumbed through the airline magazine. She’d been thinking a lot about Stephen the past week, and not just about his probable infidelity. A range of emotions had been assailing her. But mostly she’d been gripped by unwarranted guilt over the distance she felt from her late husband lately. No longer did she go into his closet, still filled with his wool sweaters and silk ties, and breathe in the odor of him. No longer did she wonder what he would do when a crisis arose. Now she did what she thought best. And no longer did she

Going Topless

21

fantasize about his arms wrapped around her at night. Now her fantasies starred other men. Sometimes a hot guy she’d passed at the grocery store, or maybe a customer at Saucy-lito. But many times the men were nameless and faceless, and they were doing a hell of a lot more to her than just holding her. She slammed the magazine shut. Did that make her a bad wife? Or a woman ready to start the next chapter of her life? “Excuse me, ma’am?” A blonde flight attendant stood next to her. “Yes?” Susannah said, a little startled. “May I offer you a drink or anything?” she asked in a clipped British accent. Susannah thought. “Yes. A glass of Chardonnay, please.” The woman nodded and left to get the wine. They’d be landing in London in five hours, then, after a short layover, it was on to Amsterdam. Susannah looked back at her snoring sister and thought about the two weeks that lay ahead. Could she really let herself go? Have an affair? Or as Chelsie had put it so bluntly this morning at the airport, “knock boots with some European hottie.” The thought made her both anxious and, if she was honest, a little flushed. No strings, no worries, only sizzling sex. The blonde came back with her drink, and Susannah took a long sip. She wasn’t normally a drinker, but with her face glowing warm from her provocative thoughts, she suddenly wondered how many glasses of cool wine she could down before they started their descent into Heathrow. **** Monday, 5:00pm Central European Time “I think we’re lost,” Mattie stated. “That’s obvious!” Chelsie snapped back as she turned down another narrow canal street in Amsterdam. “Don’t get ticked at me.” Susannah saw Mattie fold her arms and lean back in the passenger’s seat. “I wasn’t the one who lived here for a year. You’d

22

Renee Knowles

think you’d have a better sense of direction.” “I never drove when I lived here. I walked everywhere. So don’t knock my sense of direction. It’s you! You can’t read that map worth a sh—” “Listen, you two,” Susannah broke in from the back seat. “This is only making matters worse.” They’d been stuck in London for six hours due to fog, and now they’d been driving around the thin, cobbled Amsterdam streets in circles for what seemed like hours. “We’re all tired and hungry. Chelsie, find somewhere to pull over.” “Where do you suggest?” She had a point. There were few places to park and look at a map on these lanes crowded with summertime tourists and seemingly billions of bikes, the preferred method of transportation in Amsterdam. “Turn here,” Susannah said, taking a chance that the side street they were approaching would be less congested. Amazingly, her sister did as she said without argument. This street, or straat, was still pretty full, but Chelsie found a place to pull over and turn on the flashers. When Susannah had first seen their small blue Peugeot wagon in the Hertz parking lot, she’d thought it would be too little for them. Now she realized the futility of a big car on these European city roads. While Chelsie and Mattie bickered over the map, Susannah rolled down the window and gazed around. Though it was nearly July, the air was crisp and fresh. A faint musky scent wafted up from the canal, not harsh, and not really unpleasant. Only a mossy organic smell that seemed to peel back the centuries. In fact, if not for the cars and jean-clad vacationers swarming around them, she might have thought she’d been transported straight into a Golden Age painting. She could easily picture Vermeer’s Kitchen Maid doing work inside the tall, slender brick houses surrounding her. The gabled buildings hugged each other, some standing straight and proud, and others stooped slightly forward, as if their age had finally caught up with them and they needed a respite. While Susannah was taking in this seventeenth-century picture, she sensed someone staring at her. Her eyes slid to the right, and there was a tall, gorgeous brunette standing in a large glass window wearing nothing more than a fire-engine red lace bra and panties. The woman smiled at her, licked her plump, probably collagen-filled, lips and squared her shoulders to showcase her magnificent 34 C’s to perfection. Was this supposed to be an invitation?

Going Topless

23

Shock warred with curiosity. What was up with this chick? Then Susannah saw the red light shining down on top of the woman, and she realized they’d unwittingly wandered into the city’s famous Red Light District. “Guys,” Susannah said. “Get a move on, will ya? I have an Amazon sex goddess standing in the window over there, thinking I’m looking for some action.” Chelsie glanced over at the brunette and started laughing. “Get a grip, sis. She probably only thought she’d play a little with you. We’re ready to head out anyway. Mattie and I think we have this useless map figured out.” Susannah exhaled and leaned back against the vinyl seat. As the car pulled away she couldn’t keep from looking back at the sex goddess and wondering what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Less than fifteen minutes later they arrived at the address Chelsie’s friend, Courtney, had given over the phone. Courtney Mackenna had attended the university with Chelsie. She was an American who’d stayed on to get her doctorate and now was an associate professor at the university in Amsterdam. Her sister parked the car across the street from the house, and they all got out and stretched. Susannah yawned, and thanked God the apartment was in a quiet area of town. Call it jet lag, call it mere exhaustion, but excited as she was to be in new city, she wanted nothing more than to fall onto a bed and sleep for about ten hours straight. “I told you I could find the place.” Chelsie opened the back hatch of the car. Susannah groaned and pulled out her briefcase and two red bags. “Never mind that it took us two hours to do it.” She gave Chelsie a playful shove. “I long for a shower and a bed,” Mattie said. Then her stomach let out a loud growl. “Oh, and a piece of pizza would be great, too.” “Hallo!” a male voice called from across the street. “You are the Americans? Yes?” Susannah turned to see who was screaming, and stilled immediately. A tall, delicious man with a shoulder-length dark ponytail ran over to them. He had a strong chin and a face that reminded her of a young Liam Neeson. “You are the Americans?” he repeated in a thick accent, his deep espressobrown eyes trained on Susannah.

24

Renee Knowles

The intensity of his gaze made the hair on her neck stand up. Her stomach leaped as if she’d been sucker punched. “Yes, we are,” Chelsie finally answered, since Susannah couldn’t seem to find her voice. “Good.” He smiled easily at her sister. “I’m Hagen, and I live upstairs from Courtney. She is down the street at a pub with her, umm…” He paused. “…roommate.” He said the word as if not quite sure it was the correct one. “I am to let you into her apartment to drop off your things, and then we will join them.” Somehow he’d managed to focus his attention back on Susannah and this time she asked, “Why isn’t Courtney here to meet us herself?” “Yes, well. She waited all day and your plane, it was late. Finally, she had to go meet her friends. I came home as they were leaving, and she asked if I would be willing to stay and let you all in.” “As long as there is a bathroom inside,” Mattie said, “I’ll be happy.” Hagen laughed. “A toilet? Yes, of course. But before we go in, you must move your auto.” “Move the car?” Chelsie pulled out her last piece of luggage and slammed the door. “Why?” “You see that sign?” He pointed toward a white sign with some red writing on it, most of which looked like gibberish to Susannah. “You can only park here for a few hours. If you mean to stay longer, you need to go to the garage. If not, you’ll get the boot.” “Get the boot?” Mattie asked. “Like, they’ll tow us?” “No, like they’ll put a metal boot on your tires, and you won’t be able to drive anywhere. Then you pay a big fine.” “That sucks,” Susannah said without thinking. Hagen smiled at her, a light twinkle in his eyes. “Yes, that does indeed suck.” He evidently understood that piece of English slang. “Come.” He touched Susannah lightly on the shoulder. Prickles drifted down her arm. My God, what the hell was wrong with her? She mentally shook her head. This kid—for he had to be still in college—had her heart racing and her mouth dry.

Going Topless

25

They followed him down the road and he pointed toward a side alley and showed them where to park. Chelsie jumped back into the Peugeot and drove to the garage, while Mattie took the key from Hagen and ran upstairs to use the bathroom. The toilet. Susannah remembered reading in the guidebook that Europeans didn’t refer to it as a bathroom. Susannah, in the meantime, stayed in the entranceway and held the door to the apartment building open while Hagen brought in their bags. The building itself was narrow, but the wooden staircase was so cramped that Hagen had to hold the luggage in front of him as he ascended. “You have a lot of bags,” he commented on his second run. Susannah laughed. “Well, you’ve just met three genuine fashionistas.” At least she and Chelsie were. “Fashionistas?” “In this case, American women who l-o-v-e clothes.” He nodded. “I think all women love to shop. But I actually didn’t meet three fashionistas. I don’t know any of your names.” Well, damn. They’d never even introduced themselves. “God, you’re right. I’m Susannah.” “Susannah.” He rolled her name off his tongue in that accent of his, making it sound very exotic. He looked her up and down. “It is a good name.” Then he took two more bags and went upstairs. Susannah remained in the foyer, if that was what you could call this small niche, to let Chelsie in through the automatically locking front door. She watched Hagen go up and down carrying their last couple pieces of luggage. He was tall and thin, not particularly broad-shouldered, but obviously fit and in good shape. She could see the muscles of his biceps and forearms flex under the red t-shirt he wore. She really shouldn’t be checking him out, but he was just the type of guy she would have been infatuated with in college. He had to be at least as tall as her manager Toby, although leaner and less bulky. And she silently cursed the fact that she couldn’t see more than an outline of his backside in the baggy jeans he wore. Damn, woman! Get a hold of yourself! You’re old enough to be his…well,

26

Renee Knowles

at least his really older sister or young aunt. Hagen sent her a flirtatious smile as he glanced down from the turn in the staircase. She grinned back. What the hell. It was time to let loose. She was single, in Europe for the first time, and at thirty-nine certainly far from being ready for a rocking chair. She could have some harmless fun. Hagen was safe enough. After all, she would never do anything so foolish as sleep with a man who had probably been in diapers when she lost her virginity.

Going Topless

27

Chapter 4 27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 4. Be a mystery. Make him long to solve the puzzle of you. Don’t tell him too much, too soon. Reveal your inner self slowly, layer by layer, and Mr. Right will be at your feet in no time. Monday, 8:00pm, Courtney’s Apartment, Amsterdam She was wearing lace. For the first time in over a year, Susannah Carmack was wearing sexy underwear. And it felt freaking great. She adjusted her white demi bra and slid a pair of Calvin Klein’s over her lace bikinis. The jeans were like an old friend, and they fit her narrow hips in a way that made them appear curvier. As she waited in Courtney’s small guest bedroom for Chelsie to get out of the shower, she picked through her suitcase and tried to decide what top to wear. Her own cool shower had energized her from her flight, and now she was hungry and ready for the night ahead. Hagen was upstairs waiting to take them to the pub. They’d insisted on showering and changing clothes first. He’d reluctantly agreed, winking at Susannah as he left and mouthing “fashionistas.” Mattie was the only one who was done getting ready, and she was sitting on Courtney’s sofa watching an episode of CSI subtitled in Dutch. Susannah slid a white silk top over her head and assessed the results. It was sleeveless, with cut-in shoulders that showed off her well-toned upper body. It had a mock turtleneck at the top, revealing the lace of her bra through the

28

Renee Knowles

ribbed silk. “Is that what you’re wearing?” She turned. Mattie stood in the doorway in a pair of faded jeans and an old U2 t-shirt. Her tone was critical. “Yes. Why?” Mattie pulled her t-shirt down over her slightly rounded stomach. “I didn’t realize we were getting all dressed up.” “I’m only wearing jeans.” “I’m wearing jeans, too, but I don’t look like I’m on the prowl.” Just then Chelsie waltzed into the room naked and still damp from her shower. “Oh, Mattie, give Suz a break. She is on the prowl.” “Bite me.” Susannah slid her feet into a pair of silver strappy sandals. “Puh-lease” Chelsie pulled on a pair of white capris—without putting any underwear on first—and then fastened a low-cut, blue satin halter around her neck and back. “You know it’s true.” She turned to Mattie. “Suz wants a piece of Hagen.” Susannah’s face flamed. How the heck did she know that? “God! He could be your son!” Mattie exclaimed, looking at Susannah askance. “So what?” Chelsie ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “Get ‘em young, and train them early.” “Before you two take this little fantasy any further,” Susannah interrupted, “I don’t want a piece of anyone.” Chelsie rolled her eyes as if to say, Yeah, right. And Mattie crossed her arms over her chest. Susannah escaped into the kitchen and poured a glass of cold mineral water from the small fridge. It was her life, dammit. “I don’t want a piece of Hagen,” Susannah whispered quietly to herself. But a small, rebellious voice in her head said: That’s right. You’d like the whole damn package.

Going Topless

29

**** Susannah had always considered herself average. Average height, average-sized boobs, and average-length dark hair. Although she ran every day and took good care of herself, she’d never thought of herself as overtly sexy. And as the four of them walked toward the pub, that belief was reinforced. It was her sister who exuded sexuality. As Chelsie walked in front of her, with her tight capris and her midriff peeking out as she stepped, Susannah realized her sister was no longer the bohemian princess, wearing braids and “keep the environment clean” t-shirts. Chelsie swayed her hips (Susannah couldn’t help but remember that those hips were underwear-less. Didn’t it chafe?), and she tossed her unbound, long wavy hair as if it were an accessory. Who was this woman? Ten years older than her sister, Susannah had been married by the time Chelsie had entered the club scene. She’d heard the tales of Chelsie’s wild nights and easy sex, but hadn’t really connected them to her vegetarian, yoga-practicing sister. She wanted her to find the kind of love Susannah had known with Stephen. At least, what she’d thought she’d had with him the sixteen years they’d been together. Inside the crowded pub, Chelsie pulled Susannah toward the bar, evidently spotting her friend, Courtney. Mattie tagged along behind. Hagen headed over to a table full of women—young, I-don’t-needmakeup-and-still-look-great-first-thing-in-the-morning women. One of the girls, a redhead, reached out and touched him familiarly on the shoulder. Not that Susannah cared. She was going to keep her distance. Especially after Mattie had bluntly asked him his age. Twenty-four. She’d known he was young. With fifteen years and a whole world of experiences between them, the confirmation merely solidified her desire to resist his advances. When they reached the bar, Chelsie bent toward a woman perched on a barstool sipping a tumbler of golden-colored liquor. Was this Courtney? The woman looked nothing like any university

30

Renee Knowles

professor Susannah could imagine. She was petite and delicate, with very elegant bone structure and long, thin fingers. She was remarkably feminine, considering her hair was completely buzzed off, a small tattoo showed on the side of her neck, and she sported both a nose and eyebrow ring. “Courtney,” Chelsie screamed above the noise, “this is my sister, Susannah.” She called Mattie closer with a wave of her hand. “And this is my friend, Mattie.” “Nice to meet you.” Her voice was low and melodic. “This is my roommate, Tevin.” She turned to a man sitting on the barstool next to her. “Eh up!” he shouted in greeting, whatever the heck that meant, and held up his mug of beer. His accent sounded British, and he appeared more what Susannah would picture a professor to look like. He had blond spiky hair, wore a polo-type shirt and his eyes were framed with small, silver wire-rimmed glasses. As Courtney introduced all of them, Susannah noticed Tevin teeter on the barstool. Evidently he’d been downing those mugs of beer for a little too long. Susannah tried to smile, but she was beginning to feel a little lightheaded from not eating and the sickly scent wafting around her didn’t help. She sniffed. It was smoke, but definitely not tobacco. Less than a minute later a warm hand on the small of her back startled her. She jumped and turned to see Hagen smiling down on her. “Come.” He nodded his head to the right. “I have managed to get us all a table in back.” Mattie, who’d been silently taking in the bar scene, said, “Thank God! I’m starving.” Susannah tried to get Chelsie to join them, but Chelsie wanted to catch up with Courtney. Her sister ordered a shot and a beer chaser as they walked away. That was so not a good idea on an empty stomach. Tevin followed along behind them and when they reached the booth, Mattie slid in next to Tevin, forcing Susannah to sit next to Hagen. He let her in first, which quelled her plan to sit as far away from him as the small bench would allow. Hagen’s thigh brushed hers as he leaned forward to reach toward the middle of the table for a menu. She drew in a sharp breath at the contact and tried to concentrate on her own menu, happy to see that there were English translations

Going Topless

31

under the Dutch. Across the table, Tevin commented on Mattie’s U2 t-shirt and the two of them began debating rock bands and whether or not they sell out their ideals to become pop stars. Tevin shook his head a lot and seemed quite intent on convincing Mattie that rock music wasn’t worth her time. As they argued, Hagen picked a book up from the table and said to Susannah, “Have you ever been to the Netherlands?” “No. This is my first time in Europe.” “Then you must try a Dutch beer.” Beer? Yuck. She scrunched up her face. He laughed. “You will see. You will like it. It’s the best beer in the world. Well, next to German beer.” He handed her the book he held. “Pick one.” It listed all the local beers the pub served. There had to be hundreds of them. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” He leaned in close, presumably to look the choices over with her. She couldn’t help but notice the way his hand not so accidentally brushed hers, and how his face came so close she could feel his breath on her cheek and smell the cool mint scent. Her skin tingled. “This is a good blond.” He pointed at one called La Trappe Blond. “Fine,” she said. “Order that one.” She put down the menu with a damp palm. Hagen’s nearness was disorienting and had her heart pounding. She had to put some space between them. But it seemed he was determined not to make it easy for her when he traced the tip of her ring finger down to her wrist. “You have very delicate fingers.” She moved her hand to her lap. She should have had on her wedding ring, she thought. That would have stopped him. At the moment, it was in a box on her nightstand. Their beer came and she picked up her glass. A heavy yeast smell floated to her. “Try it,” Hagen said. She did and was pleasantly surprised. “It’s smooth.”

32

Renee Knowles

Hagen nodded and took a swig of his own dark beer. “Now try mine. It has a strong malt taste.” He slid the glass toward her. Placing her lips on the glass, she took a sip. The intimacy of touching her mouth where his mouth had just been wasn’t lost on her. Hops, alcohol, and a slight coffee taste slid over her tongue. “Mmm. That’s good.” She put the mug down but realized a little of the foam was still on her upper lip. She reached her tongue out the capture it, and saw Hagen’s eyes dart to her mouth. His eyes darkened. This was too much. A protective wall inched up around her. “It’s funny,” she said. “In my country, you’d barely be old enough to drink.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She’d wanted to push him away, but not by being bitchy. He scowled, but didn’t respond. During the meal that followed, he was quiet, and she tried to soothe her guilty conscience by telling herself it was for the best. They finished their food and a couple of glasses of beer, and Susannah glanced up at Chelsie. She’d noticed during dinner that her sister was standing at the bar with Courtney, talking to two Mediterranean-looking men. They were laughing and flirting like crazy. At least they looked like they were having fun. Would Susannah ever be able to let loose like that? But Chelsie had been drinking a lot. She was about to ask Hagen to get up so she could get out of the booth and check on her sister, when the redhead who’d been fondling him earlier came over. She talked to Hagen in a language familiar to Susannah as German. Her great-grandparents had emigrated from Germany, but she’d never become fluent in the language. With the redhead’s quick speech, she couldn’t understand more than a word or two, but she comprehended the body language perfectly. It said: I’m available. Take me home. Hagen shook his head, but finally the girl grabbed his hand and started to tug lightly. She smiled, a bright, toothy grin and pleaded, “Bitte.” Something clicked in Susannah’s head that that was the German word for please. He turned to Susannah. “I will be right back.” Across from her Mattie and Tevin were now whispering. It appeared like

Going Topless

33

they were having a little tête-à-tête. Strange, she never imagined they would be interested in each other. Susannah ran her hand over the nicked wood of the booth, and considered what she should do. It had been a long day, and suddenly glancing around at all the people hooking up around her, she wasn’t sure if she belonged in the pub. She had to get out of there. Sprinting past Hagen’s table without even acknowledging him, she raced out of the bar, headed left and kept walking. The cool night air dissipated some of the heat suffusing her cheeks. The heels of her sandals clicked furiously against the cobblestone. Though it must be nearly eleven o’clock, the sky was still fairly light, and she felt safe enough. After a few blocks, she sensed someone right behind her. She whirled around and saw Hagen. “You are walking like a mad woman. Are you all right?” he said as he drew alongside. “Peachy.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.” She stopped, causing a couple walking their dog to swerve around them. “Look, I’m tired. What do you want?” Fatigue laced her voice. His brows drew together. “I wanted to see you were okay. Do you even know where you’re going?” She sighed. He had a point. She had no clue where she was. The buildings all looked the same. She wasn’t even sure if she’d gone the right way to return to the apartment. And, she thought with dismay, she had no way of getting in if she had. “I needed some air.” She moved away from him, following a bridge to her right over the canal. A cool breeze rushed by, whipping her hair and causing her to shudder. She stopped in the middle of the bridge and watched the people coming in and out of the many taverns and cafés that lined the canal. The neon lights from the bars cast a rippling reflection in the water below. Hagen came up behind her and placed his denim jacket around her shoulders. Warmth radiated from the coat, and she could smell his clean, musky scent. For a brief moment she wished it were his long arms around her.

34

Renee Knowles

“So,” she said to snap her thoughts back to reality. “You deserted the redhead?” He searched her eyes. “Deserted the redhead?” Her choice of terms must have thrown him, and he took a moment to assimilate her comment. “Oh, you mean Katrina. She is a friend. We both go to university together.” “Ah.” She stared straight ahead. “Did I upset you?” “What? Oh, no. It’s only been a long day.” “I was wondering because you left so suddenly. And I saw you at the table, watching your sister.” He turned her face toward him. “It made small lines form here.” He ran his index finger down the middle of her forehead. “Worry lines. Oh great. That makes me feel much better.” She glanced away from him. Just what she wanted to be reminded of—her age. “I was only worried a little about Chelsie.” He nodded. “She will be okay. I know the men she is talking with. They are not criminals. She is safe.” Not criminals? Well, that was something. But could she trust this man she’d just met? For some reason, she did. “Besides, I would not worry. She is a grown woman.” “Excuse me?” She’d heard some of the European men were pushy. Yet she wasn’t going to let this guy tell her what to do. “You have a lot of balls.” Hagen started. “Excuse me?” “Especially for someone so young,” she went on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “And this bothers you? My age?” His voice grew louder. “It must. You mentioned it in the pub and now again.” “Of course it bothers me. I’m old enough to be—” she paused thinking of Mattie’s proclamation that he could be her son “—your aunt.” He stared at her blankly for a moment. Then he laughed. A rich, hearty laugh. “My aunt? Hmm… I see. So that is the problem.” Hagen came up behind her and placed his hands on her neck, softly massaging the tight muscles there. “I’m glad you are not my aunt. Because then the thoughts I’ve been having about

Going Topless

35

you tonight would be very wrong indeed.” She shivered. Wow. The stroke of his fingers made her pulse beat strong and loud in her ears. It had been so very long since a man had touched her intimately. “You shouldn’t be flirting with me.” “Why? Because you are married?” She swallowed. “No.” “Then you do not like it?” “Well, no, that’s not it either.” His fingers were working magic on her neck and shoulders. Her knees weakened, and she grabbed onto the iron railing in front of her to keep from leaning into him. “Then maybe it is because you do like it?” he whispered, moving his hands from her neck to her waist and pulling her against him. Her bottom nestled close to his hips. “Are all Dutch men so bold?” He laughed again. “I wouldn’t know. I’m German, not Dutch. I live outside of Berlin.” “And you’re here to go to the university?” “Yes. I’m staying in my uncle’s apartment while I finish some classes.” She took a deep, cleansing breath and sank against him. He smelled of fresh soap and male, and the heat of his arms around her was more tempting than she could’ve imagined. “You know I’ll fight you every step of the way on this,” she said honestly. “I know.” “And nothing will happen between us tonight.” “Yes. I know that, too.” “And that doesn’t discourage you?” He turned her to face him, but didn’t answer her question. “How long are you here?” “Two weeks.”

36

Renee Knowles

“Two weeks,” he repeated softly. “I would like to spend as much of the next two weeks with you as possible. As much as you will allow.” She drew her brows together. “Okay…” “Listen, Susannah. You are beautiful. And I’m very attracted to you.” He pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “You may have noticed, I am not shy when I want something. But I sense you have some, er, how would you say…? Hesitations? So, I won’t push you.” He smiled. “If at the end of two weeks we are nothing more than friends, then it will be so. And I will not regret anything. If there is more, and you wish it, we could have a wonderful affair together.” His words made her throat tighten. “The choice is yours.” Shit. Shit. Shit. The choice was hers. Could she handle it? Susannah knew she was heading toward a deep precipice and was about to fall over into the ocean below. Maybe she would drown and be swallowed up forever. Or she might just learn how to swim.

Going Topless

37

Chapter 5 27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 5. Be your own woman. Don’t rely on your man to make you happy. Have your own hobbies, your own dreams. Keep him by your side by being a savvy, interesting woman. Tuesday, 9:00 am Courtney’s Apartment Mattie Choi popped open one eye and then promptly closed it again. Her head pounded. How many glasses of beer had she downed last night? Too many, she decided, as she placed the palms of her hands over her closed eyes to further dim the morning light. A groan escaped her. She couldn’t lie there forever. She really had to pee. Damn her small bladder. Bracing herself for the pain, she opened her eyes and bolted upright. The room spun, sending her stomach into a pitch. She put her head between her knees and took several deep breaths. When she could finally sit up, she glanced around. In her dazed state, she’d nearly forgotten she’d been sleeping on a scratchy sofa in a compact apartment in Amsterdam. The red walls and modern black and white artwork reminded her quickly that she wasn’t in her plain, white living room. Crapola. She’d nearly forgotten about last night too. The throbbing in her skull intensified, but nature still called. No one else seemed to be up yet, so she slowly stood, grabbed her carry-on suitcase, and seized the opportunity to claim the one tiny bathroom for herself.

38

Renee Knowles

Twenty-five minutes later the dizziness had subsided and her stomach was feeling much better. She’d showered, brushed her teeth, and was now rummaging through her carry-on for something decent to wear. But it was fruitless. She didn’t own anything cute. She’d always considered feminine, sexy clothes as a sell out and an outrage to her feminist ideals. Suddenly they didn’t seem quite so offensive. Not when she’d seen Tevin eyeing quite a few scantily clad women last night. She took her towel and wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror. Her body wasn’t so bad, she supposed. She pushed her breasts together with her hands. They were big and still perky even though she’d just turned thirty. She could swing with the best of them. Her nipples were huge and dark, something she always thought was ghastly, but the few men who’d seen them seemed to find them as cool as a fifteen car crash at a NASCAR race. But the rest of her… She turned to take in the side view. Nicely put, her shape was what one would call lumpy, frumpy, and dumpy. She’d never be in the same category as Chelsie. Still, maybe a new pair of jeans that weren’t so baggy you could fit another person in them wouldn’t be such a bad investment. It had to be better than sitting home night after night while your one close friend was out scoring with hot guy after hot guy. Or worse, tagging along behind that one friend as she picked up these guys with barely a crook of her finger, while you sat downing a drink and being ignored by the hot guy’s friends. Hell, the wingmen didn’t even hit on her. She splashed cold water on her face. Last night had been different. Tevin had paid attention to her. Lots of attention. Sure, Mattie knew he’d been attached to Courtney at one time. He claimed they were only roommates now. It wasn’t as if Courtney had given Tevin an iota of interest during the night. In fact, Courtney hadn’t even visited their table until Tevin had told Mattie to get her to pay the bar tab. Mattie had offered to foot the bill when she’d learned that Tevin was in between jobs. But she hadn’t exchanged any of her American money yet, and the pub didn’t take credit cards. Courtney’s face had tightened when Mattie had told her the circumstances, but she’d come over and paid the bill. Mattie didn’t know what her problem was. If Tevin had been her roommate she’d gladly have covered the tab. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other through the bad and the good?

Going Topless

39

Her mother had supported her Chinese-American father during most of their married life. And they’d never argued over it. It was expected. Especially after her pop had hurt his back in a construction accident. Mattie figured if you had the wealth, why not share it? It was better than being alone. A rough knock jolted her out of her tumultuous thoughts. “Who’s in there?” Tevin shouted through the door. “I’m about to piss my pants out here.” “I’ll be out in a sec.” “Make it p.d.q.,” he bellowed. P.d.q. Pretty damned quick. He’d used the expression many times with the wait staff last night. Well, she conceded, Romeo he was not. He didn’t need to be. He was a handsome, living, breathing male. And he liked her. Hagen was putting the moves on Susannah. Chelsie had hooked up with a hot Spaniard. It was her turn. Mattie smiled. Time to get a slice of the pie that everyone else had been enjoying. She might even ask for her piece to be served with whipped cream. **** Tuesday, 10:15 am Amsterdam was the kind of city that lingered in a girl’s mind like her favorite little black dress. Which for Chelsie, never one for the usual, meant a vintage 1960’s sheath. Classic and timeless, but still very modish and hip. Chelsie’s friends often commented at how she could go from wearing braids and a screen-printed t-shirt one day, to a sexy designer dress the next. She liked to think she was eclectic. June-born Geminis were supposed to have twin personalities. And, as she walked with Courtney to the French bakery five blocks down, she realized the city was a lot like her—complex. She breathed in the heady, nutty scent of chocolate as they passed a candy shop, all the while careful not to get the heel of her sandal caught on the raised cobblestone.

40

Renee Knowles

This is one of the few cities in the world where one could enjoy a Beethoven concerto at the elegant Concertgebouw hall, in either tattered jeans or a formal gown, and no one would raise an eyebrow. Not to mention the tolerance even the conservatives and the elderly had for mild drugs and prostitution. And hopefully today, Amsterdam could bring her the answers she sought. “What brought on that silly grin?” Courtney asked as she tried to keep up with Chelsie’s long stride. “Just happy to be back in Amsterdam.” Courtney nudged her. “And I thought it might be the hot guy you met last night.” “He was cool, only I was too tipsy. It wasn’t a good night.” Being back in this city last night had caused her to reminisce about Martijn. One drink had led to another, and soon she was hanging onto the bar and flirting with some guy she could barely remember. “Well, you seemed to be having a good time. If you like it so much in Amsterdam, why didn’t you stay on?” She thought about Martijn and the months leading up to her return to Denver. She nearly put her hand over her belly and rubbed, liked she used to do. There was no way she could’ve stayed then. Now, things were different. “It wasn’t possible,” she said to Courtney. “My dad was sick, and I was needed in Denver.” “You’re back now. Maybe you should think about moving here. I might need a roommate soon.” “What about Tevin?” Her question went ignored as Courtney caught sight of a street vendor selling flowers. “Come here.” Courtney waved Chelsie over among the blooms. Her friend was much more the professor today, wearing a pink oxford and tan khakis. She’d even taken out her nose and brow rings. Courtney bought a mixed bouquet of early season gladiolas. “I hope you don’t mind if we take a small detour. Mrs. van Emmerik lives across the street in apartment four, and she loves fresh glads. She’s too old to get out much on her own, and I like to stop and visit every so often.”

Going Topless

41

This compassionate side of Courtney was one Chelsie had rarely seen. “Not a problem for me.” Chelsie would be happy to avoid returning to the apartment a little longer. She planned on seeing Martijn this afternoon and didn’t want to have to lie to Susannah. Her sister had been out taking her customary morning run when Chelsie had awoken, and Courtney had suggested they get breakfast before Susannah had returned. Courtney led the way to the elderly lady’s apartment, and Mrs. van Emmerik buzzed them in. The foyer smelled musty, and dust bunnies clung to the frayed wooden railing. The stairs creaked when they reached the landing. Courtney walked to the door with a tarnished brass “four” on it, and turned the handle. “Hello, Mrs. van Emmerik,” she called into the front room. “Misser Mackenna. Goedemorgen!” A stout woman about eighty, with white hair and an old gray housedress, sat in a chair that was facing the window. Chelsie’s limited Dutch was more than rusty, but she understood the woman’s good morning. “Hoe goat het ermee?” the small curly-haired woman continued. “Goed,” Courtney said. “Things are good.” Then Mrs. van Emmerik looked at Chelsie, her wrinkled face breaking into a smile. She said something in Dutch, but Chelsie only stared blankly at her. “My friend, Chelsie Joyner, uit Amerika,” Courtney responded. “Ah, American, are you?” Mrs. Van Emmerik’s English was low and guttural. “Yes,” Chelsie said. “I’m here on holiday.” The older lady adjusted her black-rimmed glasses. “I can speak English fairly well. But to read or write it? No. Not so good. I must speak it by sound.” Her smile widened and she pointed to the bouquet Courtney still held. “Beautiful. Are they for me?” “Yes, of course,” Courtney answered. “You are a good friend.” “I’ll put them in your vase.” She picked up a tall crystal container and walked to the sink in the kitchen.

42

Renee Knowles

“Please, sit.” Mrs. van Emmerik gestured to a small wooden armchair across from her. Chelsie sat, taking in the quaintness of furniture, the paint flecking off the walls. Out of obligation she said, “Your apartment is charming.” Mrs. van Emmerik waved her off. “You cannot fool an old woman. It was charming twenty years ago. Now, it is just a place to stay warm and dry.” Courtney brought the vase back into the room and placed it on an end table next to Mrs. van Emmerik. “Dank u! You are sweet to think of an old lady.” “You are not so old.” Courtney settled into the worn rose-colored settee next to Mrs. van Emmerik. “I remember last time I visited, Mr. Kap had been here having tea with you. His smile said that he was very taken with you.” An almost girlish giggle escaped Mrs. van Emmerik. “Just because it pains my legs to walk down the front stairs, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the company of a handsome man.” Chelsie laughed. She got the impression Mrs. van Emmerik was no stranger to romance. She was probably a heartbreaker in her day. “A handsome man can make any woman feel like a girl again.” “And what about you? Do you have a man back in Amerika?” Chelsie raised her brows. “Lots of them.” Mrs. van Emmerik let out a guffaw. “That is a good way to live.” She picked up a discolored silver photo frame from the table where the gladiolas sat. “But once you find the right one, you will know. This was my Frans. Fifty-two years we loved each other.” Her face softened and her eyes misted over. Fifty-two years? Chelsie couldn’t imagine giving herself to a man for half a decade. That intense a relationship seemed as thorny as a rose. Too many ways to prick yourself and draw blood. She could barely handle more than one date. Mrs. van Emmerik handed the picture to Chelsie. The yellowed snapshot showed a couple, perhaps about twenty, standing beside a canal. He had a mustache and wore a tweed coat and hat, and she was wearing a floral dress. Chelsie passed the photo back. “How did you stay together for so long?” she blurted, before she realized how rude she sounded. Mrs. van Emmerik only took the silver frame and smiled. “I will tell you

Going Topless

43

the secret to finding a good man.” Curious, Chelsie sat up straighter. “The way you know a man cares for you is by how he treats you in the bedroom.” “Mrs. van Emmerik!” Courtney teased in mock horror. “I cannot help it. I speak no lies. If a man takes care of you well in there— ” she pointed to a back room of her apartment, “—then he’ll be good to you outside of there, too.” A brief flash of Martijn’s dark face went through Chelsie’s mind. He’d always treated her very well in the bedroom. It was the other areas where they’d had problems. “I’ll bet your Tevin is very easy to make love with,” Mrs. van Emmerik said to Courtney. Courtney’s Tevin? Chelsie thought they were only roommates. Courtney actually blushed, something Chelsie had never seen her do. “Mrs. van Emmerik, you’re going to make my friend think you’re a wild woman.” “Ack! When you are my age, nothing makes you embarrassed anymore.” Chelsie liked the free-speaking Mrs. van Emmerik more and more. Yet with the mention of Tevin, Courtney seemed uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. She stood up. “We should probably be on our way.” After a quick hug goodbye, Chelsie and Courtney left the apartment and headed to the bakery. The scent of fresh baked dough assailed Chelsie as they walked into the small shop. Courtney examined the croissants and rolls. “Breakfast is just what I need to make me feel human.” Chelsie noticed a hot dark-haired man behind the counter, staring her way. His eyes were so dark, they were almost black. They were reminiscent of Richard’s. How did that man manage to pop into her head at the most peculiar times? She sent the clerk a cursory smile and then turned to Courtney who was still deciding what to buy. “So what’s the deal with you and Tevin?” “It’s complicated. We had a thing for a while. And he’s an okay guy, but

44

Renee Knowles

the mystery has definitely worn off. He hasn’t worked in over two months. And even before that he’d only contributed sparingly to the finances. Sometimes I didn’t know if I was a girlfriend or a bank.” “Yet he still lives with you?” “Only until he finds another job.” Courtney’s lips thinned. “Although that could be when hell freezes over.” Courtney decided on what she wanted and called the hot guy over. “Mademoiselles!” the clerk said. “What can I help you with this morning?” Though he spoke English, his accent was clearly French. Courtney chose her items and when she was done, the clerk asked Chelsie, “And what about you, mademoiselle? Is there anything here you want?” She heard the innuendo in his voice. Well, she supposed French men weren’t timid. He wasn’t that much taller than Chelsie, but muscular. She could see his broad chest through the white t-shirt he wore under this apron. “Anything I want? Let me see.” Chelsie made a show of looking over the case trying to decide on a pastry. “I think just a brioche, please.” “Just a brioche?” The clerk raised his left brow. “What about you and I and dinner tonight?” Chelsie laughed. “No, thank you. Only the brioche.” On any other day she’d say yes, but today wasn’t an ordinary day. After he handed her the bag, he put his hand over his chest. “You break my heart.” When they left the shop, Courtney said, “What’s the deal with you? That guy was a doll.” “He was pretty cute. But I have other plans for today.” When she didn’t explain, Courtney prodded, “Such as...” Chelsie paused before answering. She needed a friend. Not Mattie, who’d criticize her, and definitely not Susannah and her judgments. “I need to go to the university. You teaching?” “Uh-huh. I work every day. With Tev bringing in zilch, I need to take on classes when I can.” Chelsie knew Martijn was the instructor for two classes this morning and

Going Topless

45

one this afternoon. She’d kept up with his schedule over the Internet for the past few years. “Maybe later we can head over there together. There are a few things I think it’s time to share.” Courtney clutched her croissant-filled bag. “Now you’re sounding ominous, Chels.” “Not ominous, but potentially mind-blowing.” Chelsie knew it was time to face her demons. “Yet, you’re one friend I have who can handle it.”

46

Renee Knowles

Chapter 6

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 6. Show your saucy side. Learn how to flirt. Make eye contact. Brush his hand with yours. Let him know you desire him. But always leave him wanting more. Tuesday, 11:00 am Central Amsterdam Sweat dripped down between her breasts and her breath came hard. She didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. She longed for the badly needed release. Susannah pushed herself harder, running fast up a short hill, and increasing her pace with every step. Her calves ached and her blood pounded, but the reward would be worth it. She was nearing Courtney’s apartment building, but she wasn’t ready to end her morning run yet. Turning left, she sprinted past an old church with a golden bell tower. Inside, organ music was playing. A visit to a church was probably what she needed right now as her thoughts had been decidedly sinful of late. For the past day she’d felt about as sex-starved as a teenager. And I’m contemplating having sex with a man who is barely out of his teens. If they did it, would he expect her to be a wildly educated older woman? Would he think that she’d know gymnastic back flips or something? Get a grip, Susannah. He was hardly the gawky, innocent boy from The Graduate. He probably had more experience than she did. She hadn’t been with

Going Topless

47

anyone but Stephen for nearly two decades. Her running shoes pounded the cobblestones. She ran harder, passing boathouses decorated with a hanging flowers and creaking on the canal like old rocking chairs. Susannah had the road mostly to herself. Only a slim amount of tourists wandered about. After turning left at the next corner, Susannah dashed past several Delftware stores where blue and white pottery adorned the windows, and then sailed by a handful of antique shops, before she decided her body had had enough. She made her way back and rang the bell for Courtney’s apartment. After she was buzzed in, she hurried up the stairs and was thrown smack dab into a discussion between Mattie and Chelsie. “Forget about the guidebook, Mat,” Chelsie said as she took the book and tossed it onto the wicker coffee table. “We’re here to have some fun, not roam around like tourists for two weeks.” “I am a tourist!” Mattie said. “And I want to see the damn museum.” “Suz,” Chelsie began, “you don’t want to be tied to a guidebook your whole vacation, do you?” “No.” Her sister turned to Mattie. “See—” “But,” Susannah rasped out, still breathing heavy, “I also want to see a few of the sights. I didn’t come all this way not to visit some history.” Mattie had the look of victory on her face. “I told you she’d agree with me.” Longing for a shower, Susannah tuned out the rest and marched toward the guest room. She still had to check her e-mails before she would be able to go anywhere. Plus, in some crazy desire-filled stupor, she’d promised Hagen last night that she’d get him before they left. He’d told her that he didn’t have any classes, so they could spend all day together. At least that was his plan. Of course, she didn’t have a plan. And she was so horny her skin itched. Both of which made counteracting his proposal a little difficult. After a cool shower, Susannah booted up her laptop using the adapter she’d bought at Denver International. Courtney had sworn that the building had

48

Renee Knowles

wireless e-mail access, but Susannah—completely computer illiterate—couldn’t figure out how to get set up. In the end, Courtney was gracious enough to let her borrow her computer. She logged in. You have 15 new e-mails, the screen read. After she deleted the ones that promised her bigger breasts, Viagra for half price, and a penis so large it would need its own seat on a plane, she had only four important emails. One from Toby giving her the sales figures from the night before, two from her mom asking how the trip was going, and one from [email protected]. Jack. She quickly clicked on the email. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: Vacation Got your message letting me know you’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks. Wanted to tell you that I’ve started the paperwork for you. Everything should be done by the time you return. Missed you at the game last week. Believe it or not the Rocks won. Hope you’re enjoying yourself on a glorious white-sanded beach somewhere. Yours, Jack ps. Bet you look great in a bikini. At his last line, she let out an audible gasp. He still liked her even though she’d made a fool of herself in his office! She remembered a bit about this flirting business. If Jack could do it, then so could she. Before she lost her nerve, she began to type. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: Beaches and Bikinis

Going Topless

49

As a matter of fact, right now I’m in a tropical paradise, baking in the sun and sitting poolside. A cabana boy just brought me a funky little drink with a bright pink umbrella. May never return. As for the bikini… You’ll just have to use your imagination. Susannah ps. Really hitting the town in Amsterdam. But it made for a good story, didn’t it? Susannah hesitated, her index finger poised over the send button. Was she crazy? Before she could chicken out, she hit the key. Leaning back against the chair, she let out a long breath. She supposed she did recall what it was like to get her groove on. Chelsie would be proud. At that moment, the door to Courtney’s apartment swung open and Hagen walked in wearing a freshly pressed blue button-down shirt and jeans. His long hair swung loose and sexy, and his scorching gaze shifted right to her. Dammit all, her skin was itching already. Well, her mother couldn’t complain about her anymore. She was certainly moving on. But how on earth had she gone in less than a week from having no chance at a love life, to possibly having too much of one? **** Tuesday, 1:15 pm They say sex is like riding a bike. You never forget how. Susannah couldn’t attest to the sex adage, in fact she was pretty sure she had forgotten how to do that, but for the first time in fifteen years she was pedaling a bike. Hagen had convinced her to rent one at a small shop down the street from Courtney’s apartment. He rode alongside, his long legs and sandaled feet pedaling slowly to keep pace with her. They were heading to an area called the Museumplein. Hagen had described it as a park-like district flanked by the famous Rijksmuseum, Van Gogh Museum and Concertgebouw, the classical music hall.

50

Renee Knowles

They were supposed to meet Mattie and Tevin, who’d chosen to go by foot, at the Rijksmuseum where the world’s most impressive collection of Dutch Golden Age art was housed. Chelsie had bowed out of the trip, saying she wanted to take a look at her old stomping grounds and that she was going to the university with Courtney. Susannah suspected something more was going on by how bristly her sister was that morning. “Do you like the bike?” Hagen asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Actually, I think it’s a blast.” She was having a ball maneuvering the bike lanes and curb posts, people whizzing around them and ringing their bells at pedestrians. “A blast,” he repeated. “Sometimes the things you Americans say make little sense.” The light wind whisked her hair behind her and she laughed. “I can believe it. Even I can’t understand half of the slang the young people use these days.” She blushed. What an old lady she must sound like. He was one of those young people. “Do you have many American friends?” she asked to change the subject. “I have a few. Some go to university. In Germany, I have a close friend, Thomas, and he is from New York City.” “Ah, New York City. Thomas might not be typical of most Americans then.” His right brow rose. “How so? New York is part of America.” “True. But a world away from the rural Midwest, or the wine country of California.” He nodded. “It is the same in my country. The newly rejoined east is more likely to be full of poverty and industry than the prosperous banking centers of the west.” “Newly rejoined? The wall came down in 1989.” He leaned back on his bike and shrugged. “It may seem like a long time, but it isn’t much when you are trying to join two cultures that had grown apart for many decades.” That made sense to Susannah, yet it was something she’d never

Going Topless

51

considered. “Are there bad feelings between the two places?” “Perhaps. Although, we must all learn to work together if Germany is to stay a leader in the EU.” Hagen was much more than a European ladies man, Susannah was beginning to realize. “So, tell me more about yourself.” “About myself?” He paused. “Well, I’m a graduate student, focusing on European Labor studies. I will finish school in autumn, and return to Germany, hopefully to work for the government.” He stopped and she waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. She realized that was all the information he was going to share. “What about a girlfriend?” He smiled. “What about one? I am not against the idea.” “You don’t have one now?” “I wouldn’t be here with you if I did.” “How come a sexy guy like you doesn’t have a girlfriend?” “Ah.” His smile broadened. “So you think I’m sexy?” She huffed. “That’s beside the point. Are you avoiding my question?” He turned his eyes away, looking a bit exasperated. Maybe she was prying too hard. She’d always heard that Europeans were more private about their personal lives. But hell, the guy had basically asked her to sleep with him, and she wanted to know more about him before she made that decision. “Why must I have a girlfriend?” he answered. “I like women, but I have a lot going on with my studies. I will wait until I am done to be in a relationship.” The subject was dropped as they approached a huge brick structure. “Here we are,” Hagen said. With its stained glass windows and multiple towers, the building looked more like a Neo-Gothic palace than a museum. They stopped by the bicycle rack, and Hagen locked up their bikes. Susannah glanced around. The place was incredible. Mimes, street musicians and entertainers of all kinds dotted the brick square. In the middle of it all sat a reflecting pond surrounded by benches and skateboarders. “Is this what they call the Museumplein?” Hagen glanced up. “Yes. Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

52

Renee Knowles

Cool couldn’t even begin to describe the vitality of the multi-faceted park. It was like triple chocolate peanut butter ice cream with hot fudge and sprinkles. So much, all rolled up into one. Hagen locked up their bikes up with two locks. He insisted thieves were rampant. He glanced up at her. “So, Susannah, how come you do not have a man? Or a husband?” His eyes twinkled at her. “Touché.” Turnabout was certainly fair play, but in this case she hated to speak the words. “I did have a husband.” She paused. “He died a year ago.” The phrase still sounded unfamiliar to her, as if someone else was speaking it. His eyes softened and he took her hand, rubbing gently. “Sie sind tapfer.” “What does that mean?” “It means that you are brave.” Brave? Susannah wasn’t sure about that. But she didn’t want to dwell on this topic today. She hadn’t thought about Stephen once since they’d started out. A man strolled by wearing a white shirt and an accordion held on by a bright green-colored strap. He smiled at them and eyed them as if they were a couple. Then he began to play. The song sounded familiar, but Susannah couldn’t place it. When he was done, Hagen tossed the man a euro. “Ah, liefde in de zomer,” the musician said before moving on. “What did he say?” Susannah asked. “My Dutch is not perfect, but something about love and summertime.” Love and summertime and Europe and twenty-four year-old men. It was enough to make a woman’s head spin. Hagen still held her hand. He’d rolled up his sleeves while they were biking and Susannah noticed his forearms were hard and slender and his fingers long. She’d always thought a woman could tell a lot about a man from his hands. Whether he labored with them for a living, or if he had a gentle touch. And watching Hagen stroke her palm with his thumb, she could tell he would know just how to stroke her elsewhere. She pulled her hand back and nodded her head toward the museum. “Shall we go in?” she croaked.

Going Topless

53

The Rijksmuseum was going through a multi-year renovation. During this time they’d put their very best masterpieces on display. Art history was one of the few classes in college that had fascinated her. She’d always been particularly taken with the work of Johannes Vermeer. After searching for Mattie and Tevin to no avail, Hagen and Susannah examined the ground level of the museum with its Delftware, medieval weapons and intricate dollhouses. Then they went up the staircase to the Philips Wing where the precious Golden Age art was housed. “I want to see ‘The Kitchen Maid’,” she pronounced at the landing. Hagen shook his head. “We should see the rooms in order.” “In order? Hey, I’ve waited my whole life to see a Vermeer. And this painting is one of my favorites.” But they moved toward the first display room, and Hagen placed his hand on her back. God! She wished he’d stop doing that. Every time he touched her, her breath got stuck in her throat and she lost the ability to talk intelligently. “You Americans are always in rush,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot and gooseflesh broke out on her neck. “Take the time to savor things.” She knew he was talking about more than the paintings, but she wasn’t used to being told what to do. She sensed that was the way of things over here. They expected things to run in a certain order. “Perhaps it isn’t that we Americans are always rushing. Maybe we just know what we want, and we have no use for the fluff in between.” Hagen let out a deep laugh. “I believe strongly in a woman who knows what she desires.” He leaned in. “And I would be very happy to give you what you want.” Heat spread through her core. She’d never make it through the vacation without sleeping with this man. And he knew it. She could see an inkling of victory in his eyes. But it was crowded out by his blatant desire. When they reached the paintings of Rembrandt van Rijn, Susannah stopped in front of his famous painting, “The Jewish Bride.” “It’s not one of his more interesting works.” Hagen stared at the tender portrait. “But it attracts much attention.” “I think you’re wrong. I remember seeing it in textbooks, but in person…

54

Renee Knowles

It’s such a representation of pure, unadulterated love.” “It is love, yes. Only a more possessive kind of love.” He pointed toward the canvas. “Do you see how the man’s hand captures her breast? He is telling the world that she is his.” “And that is a bad thing?” “No. I think it is a…” He paused as if searching for the words. “Ursprünglich reaction,” he finally said. “Scheisse.” She knew what that meant—shit. Her great-grandfather had let that slip many times. “I do not know the word in English,” he continued. “But a basic human need.” “An instinctive reaction? Primal?” “Yes! Primal. The image is more about possession than love.” Primal. Like the response she was having to Hagen. Susannah glanced back at the painting. The man was drawing the woman toward him with his hand on her breast, and her hand covered his. She didn’t seem too bothered by his “possession.” In fact, she looked ready to let him jump her bones. Honey, she thought as she stared at the Jewish bride’s face, I know just how you feel.

Going Topless

55

Chapter 7

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 7. Learn from the past. Don’t make the same mistakes over and over. If someone isn’t right for you, cut them loose and move on. Wednesday, 11:29 am University Chelsie wiped her damp palms on her vintage dark denim flares and adjusted her red peasant blouse. She’d dressed very carefully this morning. At first, she’d grabbed her green “Proud to be a treehugger” t-shirt, but then she decided Martijn would only think it juvenile. Of course, with any other man, that would only make her want to wear it more. But he hadn’t seen her in five years and the infantile desire to make a good impression roared inside her. She’d come by the university yesterday, only to chicken out of seeing him. But today, she was ready. As she stood outside his lecture room and listened to the rise and fall of his smooth voice through the open door, she closed her eyes. God, his voice. Most of the classes Martijn taught were in English, and he prided himself on his command of the language. After living for many years in London, his English accent was perfected, and very British. Not guttural at all. It made her stomach flutter as if she was some stupid-ass adolescent. Enough. She would not go to him a sap. She would show him the woman she’d become. Class would be over in—she glanced at her wristwatch for the sixth time

56

Renee Knowles

in the last three minutes—less than one minute. And things always ran in a timely manner on Martijn’s watch. Thirty seconds later, the students filed out commenting on the lecture in varying degrees of English and Dutch. After the room had emptied, Chelsie drew a deep breath. This was the moment she’d longed for and resisted for five long years. She slowly walked into the room. Her sandals made no sound on the linoleum floor. Martijn had his back to her as he placed his lecture materials into his worn, brown leather briefcase. His hair was shorter, cropped close like a Roman statue, and he wore a pair of navy slacks and a tan sport coat. Chelsie wondered if his wife had laid out navy socks for him to wear. The thought made her stomach clench. Martijn was colorblind and needed a woman’s help for such details. The fleeting picture in her mind of his flawless dark-haired wife made her stop in her tracks. The soles of her shoes squeaked at her sudden halt, and Martijn whirled around. At forty-eight, he was more handsome than ever. “Hello, Martijn.” Her voice managed to sound reasonably calm. His eyes widened, and he very deliberately lowered his briefcase to the table in front of him. “Chelsie? Is that you?” “Amazingly enough, it is.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “You’ve taken me by surprise.” She moved closer. “Not an unpleasant surprise I hope?” There was a slight hesitation and his salt and pepper brows drew together. “No. No, of course not.” He wasn’t very convincing. Maybe she’d made a huge mistake. Then he slowly raked his chestnut brown eyes over her. They glowed with approval. “You look just as beautiful as ever.” He’d recovered well, she thought, even offering her a smile. “What brings you to Amsterdam? A holiday?” “A much needed vacation. I brought my sister and a friend so they could see the city for the first time.”

Going Topless

57

“How long are you here?” he asked. “Two weeks.” “And are you finding the city as captivating as you thought when you went to university?” Captivating? She certainly still found him captivating. She drew her gaze down his torso, stopping right where his most cherished assets were. “Even more so,” she said, looking back up at him. Martijn cleared his throat. “Well… It’s very nice to see you again.” Somehow this small talk didn’t seem right coming from a man she’d given oral sex to right in this very lecture hall. He grabbed his briefcase again. “Well, ah, I’ve got another class soon.” Chelsie couldn’t let him go yet. She placed her hand over his on top of the tattered leather handle. “Surely, you’ve got time for a cup of espresso?” He drew in a breath at her touch, and a spark of some kind flared in his eyes. He wasn’t completely immune to her. “Chelsie, it was a long time ago,” he said softly. “Not so very long. And, I’m only asking for a cup of coffee.” His jaw tightened, and still he hesitated. “Okay. I know a place close by that shouldn’t be too crowded.” **** The café was situated on a canal, facing a boat tour dock and a row of pubs. Martijn led Chelsie to an outdoor table by the iron railing of the restaurant. On the other side of them, a watercolor artist with his stool and easel captured the beauty of the boats sailing up and down the water. Martijn and Chelsie ordered their espressos and sat silent for a moment. In the sunlight, she could see the lines on his face had deepened in the past five years. It didn’t diminish his handsomeness, at least not to her. She struggled for something to say. How did one make up for five years? There was so much she wanted to share with him, but where to begin?

58

Renee Knowles

He broke the silence by stating, “I’d meant to get in touch with you. After you’d moved back.” “Did you?” Her voice held more than a trace of disbelief. “Chelsie, you know how things are.” “No, actually, I don’t. Please tell me. How are things?” He sighed and glanced out toward the canal. “You mean with Johanna,” she said. He couldn’t answer right away as the waiter came over and served their coffees. After the man left, Martijn sat staring at the small white cup. “I’m not married to Johanna anymore.” He is free. She knew it was the right thing to come to Amsterdam. A giddy elation stole over her. Then realization hit. “You still never contacted me.” He leaned in toward her, his hands resting on the table. “It was never the right time.” She raised her brows. “Come on. It was an affair, Chelsie. That’s what we had. Sometimes you Americans make more of these things than you should.” Her blood ran boiling hot. “So, what should I not have made more of: the fact that we slept together for nearly a year, or the fact that I got pregnant with your baby!” “Keep your fucking voice down,” he scolded, looking around and motioning downward with his hand. “I’ll do whatever I want, you ass.” She pushed the table away, splashing espresso over the white plastic and scraping her chair on the cement. Then she rushed the hell out of there. Tears streamed down her face as she practically ran from the café. What a fool she’d been! He hadn’t pined after her. He’d probably barely remembered she’d existed. “Chelsie!” She heard him scream after her in that commanding tone he

Going Topless

59

used to berate an insubordinate student. She refused to slow down. Wasn’t there a bus stop somewhere near here? She tried to remember. “Dammit, Chelsie! Slow down!” She sped up. Try and catch me old man. Only Martijn wasn’t a typical forty-eight year old man. He was still in amazing shape, and the creep finally caught up with her and whirled her around by the arm. She yanked out of his grasp. “Leave me alone.” Chelsie had some satisfaction seeing him bend forward slightly, his breath coming hard. “Just listen to me,” he rasped out. She’d never seen the great professor so unrestrained before—at least not outside of the bedroom. “Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve got two minutes.” He straightened, still breathing fast, but once more in control. “What I said, perhaps was a little blunt.” “A little blunt! You reduced our relationship to nothing more than recreational sex!” She blinked back more tears. “Is that all I was to you?” “No, Chelsie.” He took her by the elbow and moved them out of the way of foot traffic, obviously embarrassed by the scene. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders, which were shaking from suppressed sobs. “You know you were more to me than that. We had something special.” He lowered his voice. “And you know I felt bad for what happened with the baby.” Her chest tightened. That was the first time he’d ever said anything comforting to her about the baby. “You felt so bad that you blamed me for getting pregnant.” “I never blamed you. I didn’t know how to handle it. And it tore me up to see you so crushed.” She noticed he didn’t say he had been crushed. If only she hadn’t had a miscarriage. Maybe things would’ve been different. Johanna never wanted any children, and Martijn had wanted a legacy—just not one born by an adulterous affair. “But what could I do?” he went on. “It was wrong, you and I. I felt guilty when we were together, and guilty when we were apart.” He searched her eyes. “Guilty that I wanted to be with you more than my wife.”

60

Renee Knowles

“Guilt didn’t seem to bother you at the time. In fact, I can recall you telling me that Johanna was little more than a cold fish.” “I was taken with you. I rationalized.” He sighed and shook his head. “How could I resist you? You were so fresh and beautiful. And bold.” Her face burned. He was right about that. “Yet I never led you to believe I’d leave Johanna.” She closed her eyes to stop them from stinging. Why did he have to be so right about it all? “You know I cared for you.” She opened her eyes. “When did you stop?” “Chelsie, Chelsie.” He cupped her cheek with his palm. “I didn’t.” Martijn was staring at her with a mixture of concern and raw sexual desire. He still wanted her. Maybe he was just scared. Maybe he needed a reminder of how good it had been between them. “Is there somewhere we could go?” she asked. He smiled and let his hand fall back to her shoulder. “You haven’t lost your brazenness.” “True.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “I haven’t lost any of my other attributes either.” It was a risk, this intimate touching. Martijn usually hated public displays of affection. His body tightened and he grabbed her hand. “Chelsie, I should go. This isn’t a good idea.” “Maybe not.” She stared straight into his eyes. “But do you want to be with me anyway?” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You bloody well know I do.” She smiled. Victory. Martijn wasn’t married any longer and there were no strings to hold him down. He ran his hand through his graying hair. “Do you remember,” she asked, “the weekend we went to Vondelpark?” It had been the one and only time they’d gone anywhere in public

Going Topless

61

together. Johanna had been in Rotterdam visiting her mother, and Martijn had invited Chelsie to stay with him for the weekend. During those two days, they had had the most incredible sex of her life, and she’d never seen a man more satisfied. Evidently he remembered the weekend only too well. He ran a hand over his face. Martijn was a man falling down a well and desperately searching for a rope to cling to. “My apartment isn’t far from here,” he finally stated. “Let’s go.” He wouldn’t be able to so much as think of another woman by the time she got through with him. **** They stepped into his apartment and Martijn slammed the door closed, pushing Chelsie up against the hard wood. So, that was the way it was going to be. Chelsie was so up for it. She wrapped her legs around his waist and licked his earlobe. He groaned and crushed her to him. His kisses were rough and quick, stealing the air from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel. Martijn worked his hand under her shirt, cupping her breast and kneading it. Thank God she hadn’t worn a bra. She held onto his neck while he massaged her, his fingers pressing into her flesh and making her moan in pleasure. It was over too soon. He carried her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed and pulling her top over her head. His teeth scraped her left nipple, causing both pain and bliss. “Take off your clothes,” he said, more of an order than a request. “Demanding,” she whispered back. “I like it.” He only nipped at her breast. “Come on, Chelsie. I’m dying here.” His erection pushed out against his trousers. She pulled off her jeans and panties, running her hand over her waxedbare pussy, just to drive him crazier. He threw her back onto the bed. She’d

62

Renee Knowles

forgotten how forceful he could be. But she could take it, even liked it. It was a change from the men she’d been with lately. She writhed, naked and twitching, waiting for him to take her. “You’re trying to drive me bloody insane,” he accused, as he tore his jacket and shirt off. She laughed. “Damned straight.” He’d barely gotten his slacks off before he was in her. Martijn pushed his cock deeper and deeper, his thrusts penetrating her to her core. It was so fast. She’d wanted to slow it down, to savor it. Only the passion between them was too explosive. She grasped the silky bedcover so firmly she could feel the pinch of her fingernails through it. Harder and harder he plunged. He was a man possessed. Though Chelsie watched him, keeping her eyes open, Martijn’s were closed. She wanted him to see her. Be with her. But soon, her world exploded and she forgot all about it. Spasms shook her, over and over again, and she came. She closed her eyes then, letting the sensations flow over her. God, she had certainly done the right thing in coming to Amsterdam. Later, as she lounged between his white Egyptian sheets, she thought the sex between Martijn and her was phenomenal. Well, not so phenomenal, she mentally corrected. Still very, very good. She watched him smoke a cigarette outside on the very small bedroom balcony. How cliché. A post-coitus smoke. Yet Martijn reached for one after every encounter she’d ever had with him, even though he rarely smoked outside of sex. That was the only thing that had stayed the same between them this time. The sex had been different. Or maybe she was different. Chelsie was used to being in control with most of the men she knew. Martijn was too strong of a man to allow her that power. Men like Richard gladly let her reign over them. Maybe Richard was a bad example, as he’d brought her to orgasm four times, and by then who the hell knew who was in control. She blew out a long breath. How could she be thinking about Richard while she was in Martijn’s apartment?

Going Topless

63

She should be thinking about the amazing orgasm she’d just had. Not that Martijn had done much to ensure her satisfaction. It’d been more of a quickie, she surmised. After all, it had been five years. They were both bound to be a little hasty. And he had asked if she’d come. Martijn came in from the balcony through the French doors. He only had on his black boxers and slacks, and even though he wasn’t quite as muscular as he’d been five years ago, the man could still turn heads. “I’ve got to get back to university. I still have a class to teach this afternoon.” She’d forgotten about the damn class. “Well,” she said, deliberately tossing the covers down around her ankles so he could admire her yoga-lithe body, “I can wait for you here if you’d like.” Martijn smiled and stroked his hand down the length of her right leg. “As intriguing as that sounds, it isn’t a good idea. I’m meeting some friends later, and really need to read through some students’ papers after that.” Friends? Student papers? She noticed he didn’t invite her out with his friends. “When will I see you again?” He thought. “I’ll be out of town this weekend, but we could see each other the beginning of next week.” She was being blown off. She had only two weeks here, and he couldn’t see her until next week. Well, it wasn’t as if he’d been forewarned of her coming. Chelsie bit her lip and considered her options. She could get up and leave with some of her dignity intact and never see him again. But she wasn’t ready to admit failure yet. The thought of leaving Amsterdam, her dream crushed, burned a hole in the pit of her stomach. Or she could make another liaison, and hope that this whole encounter was only a fluke. She sighed. When in doubt always go with Plan B.

64

Renee Knowles

Chapter 8

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 8. Overcome your inhibitions. Get a little wild. Strip for your man. Take a bellydancing course. Get over your hang-ups and become the woman you’ve always wanted to be. Friday, 12:30 pm Leidsestraat Shopping District “What do you think of this one?” Susannah held up a black string bikini with silver stars on it. Chelsie grimaced. “Too celestial.” Susannah placed it back on the rack and returned to searching. This was her third boutique, and she’d already spent two hundred euro. Chelsie, Mattie, Courtney, and she had descended on this trendy shop in search of the perfect bathing suits, leaving two very stern salesladies staring after them. “And this?” Susannah picked up a brown one-piece. “Too old,” Mattie interjected from behind her. “And too blah. Wouldn’t impress a twenty-four year old guy.” Susannah’s face heated. “I’m trying to please myself.” “Yeah, sure. And I’m really enjoying this shopping trip.” Mattie plopped a suit back onto a shelf. “Well, if you didn’t want to be here, you could’ve stayed at the apartment,” Chelsie said.

Going Topless

65

“And miss all this great female bonding?” Mattie sighed. “Maybe I’ll just wear jeans and a t-shirt to the beach. What do you think?” Mattie had addressed Chelsie, but Courtney quipped, “To each her own.” Mattie’s eyes flashed to Courtney. Then she picked up a black one-piece with an audaciously deep v-neck. She certainly had the boobs to fill it out, Susannah thought. “Then again,” Mattie stated, “maybe this would work.” Courtney, who’d been flipping through the same rack as Susannah, narrowed her eyes at Mattie. “And just who would you be trying to impress?” “Anyone who decides he might want to look.” Courtney crossed her arms over her small chest. “How indiscriminating.” Chelsie and Susannah stopped looking through the suits, and caught each other’s eye. These chilly comments were the only thing the professor had said to Mattie all day. Mattie had inched her way onto Courtney’s territory, spending more and more time with Tevin while Courtney was away teaching. Even though Courtney and Tevin’s relationship was supposedly over, Courtney seemed to take aversion to this going on right under her nose. Susannah picked a sky blue tankini off the rack. “What’s the verdict this time?” she interrupted to ease the tension. Chelsie shrugged. “It works.” “Cool.” “If you want to dress like an outdated relic.” “Geez. Tell me how you really feel, Chels.” “Hey, modesty won’t win you any brownie points on European beaches. You need something with more wow.” Chelsie picked up a bright pink thong bikini with small, barely-there triangles where a top should be. “You’ll turn heads in this.” “And stomachs—my own for one. I don’t think my bikini wax could even begin to compensate for the lack of coverage.” Frustrated, Susannah pushed another plastic hanger to her right. Mattie had a point. She wouldn’t be so concerned with her bathing suit if Hagen wasn’t going to see her in it.

66

Renee Knowles

She’d been considering his offer. Maybe the time had come to take him up on it. She was at a crossroads, a turning point in her life. She’d never forget Stephen, but she needed to take baby steps toward her future. And that might include shedding her life as a born again virgin. Susannah pushed a strand of damp hair off her face. It had become very hot the past couple of days. Courtney had suggested the whole group travel to the coast Saturday and hit the beaches. And since Hagen had not-so-casually informed Susannah that his uncle doesn’t actually live with him and the place was all his for the summer, she thought that after their outing they might go upstairs and start a heat wave of their own, so to speak. With four suits in hand, Susannah went into the dressing room. After stepping into the first one, she opened the curtain, and looked around the chic Leidsestraat boutique, but it appeared all her friends had deserted her. Chelsie, Mattie, and Courtney all stood at the front of the store talking to a gorgeous young blonde girl wearing low rise jeans and a sparkling navel ring. Courtney and the girl were hugging like long-lost friends. Susannah closed the curtain again, and decided to purchase a modest navy halter bikini. After she paid, Courtney introduced her to the blonde. “Susannah, this is my cousin, Elaine. She lives in London.” Elaine tossed her wavy hair and smiled. “I’ve only popped over for the weekend. My friends and I are set up in a hotel in a few blocks from here.” She figured Elaine couldn’t be more than nineteen, and she glowed with the beauty of youth. Tight skin, tight stomach, and tight ass. “Lainey, we’re going to the beach tomorrow,” Courtney said. “Why don’t you come with? We haven’t really chatted for so long.” Lainey smiled a dazzling white-toothed grin. “Sounds fun. My friends can fend for themselves for a bit. What time should I be at your place?” **** Saturday, 9:00 am Courtney’s Apartment

Going Topless

67

“What the hell do you mean, I have a new wrinkle?” Courtney jumped up from the kitchen table where she’d been nursing a cup of tea and ran to her bedroom mirror. Lainey followed after. “It’s only a small one Court. You can call your surgeon on Monday and it’ll be taken care of in a snap.” “Call my surgeon?” Courtney echoed. “Sure. Your cosmetic surgeon. Mum always says, ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman over thirty cares more for her surgeon than the gardener she’s shagging’.” Chelsie rolled her eyes at Susannah. “Is this chick from London or LA?” she asked. “Jane Austen must be rolling over in her grave.” Susannah laughed. Lainey had arrived an hour early, and had been driving them nuts pointing out everyone’s imperfections “all in the name of helping” ever since she got there. “It is also a truth universally acknowledged,” Susannah whispered to her sister, “that nineteen-year old, thong bikini wearing twits should keep their opinions to themselves.” “Hear, hear,” Mattie interjected from the chair next to them. Susannah was nervous enough about tonight without this. Where was Hagen anyway? He was always scrupulously punctual. And it was now three after nine. She heard the toilet flush and Tevin came out of the bathroom with the morning London Times under his right arm. All eyes turned to him. “What? Can’t a man even take a shit in peace around here anymore?” “Having a hard time dealing with all the estrogen, eh, Tev?” Courtney asked with a smile. He grumbled and tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table. “Ah, just shut your cake-hole, Court.” Courtney laughed. “I’ll get right on it. By the way, Tev, your front door is open.” Tevin looked down, and then up at all the women, his face a mottled red. “Bloody hell.” He quickly pulled the zipper up on his jeans.

68

Renee Knowles

Just then Hagen showed up. He was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and had a backpack around his shoulders. Susannah waited for his eyes to reach hers and the provocative smile he always sent her way. This time Lainey caught his attention by racing up to him. “Hagen!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’d wondered if you were still here.” Did she really? “Hallo, Elaine,” he greeted her and smiled warmly. But then he gently removed her arms from around him and stepped back. Score one for Hagen, Susannah thought. His eyes met hers and he lit up in a sexy grin. “Let’s move along, then,” Tevin said, and everyone started grabbing the bags they were bringing to the beach. Hagen came over to Susannah, picked up her tote and whispered, “Sie schauen schön.” It meant she looked beautiful. He’d taught the phrase to her the day they’d gone to the Rijksmuseum. Her pulse sped up. Tonight was definitely the night. **** A high-strung nervous energy seized Susannah as she lie on her towel and let her toes soak into the hot, gritty sand. Hagen rested next to her, up on his elbows, surveying the beach. He was wearing a swimsuit that would be considered indecent in the States. Susannah was trying not to stare at his flat, well-defined stomach and what it led to below. How could a girl not look? From what she could tell, it didn’t appear Hagen would have any problem keeping a woman happy in the bedroom. She swallowed hard and tore her gaze away. The beach was crowded, and it was more like the New Jersey shoreline than the California coast. Chelsie and Mattie had chosen a place close to the water to settle. But Lainey stuck with her cousin and Tevin, and they placed their blanket in front of Susannah and Hagen. Lainey smiled and waved at them, making a show of bending over and straightening her side of the cover until it was

Going Topless

69

just right. Which left her thong-bare, Brazilian-waxed butt cheeks in Hagen’s face. And he was looking. How could he not? Her figure was nearly perfect. She was too old for this, Susannah thought. She refused to get tangled up in some silly game with a teenager. “Maybe this whole thing is a mistake,” Susannah mumbled more to herself than to Hagen. “What do you mean?” “This whole thing.” She gestured with her hands at both of them. “Us.” “Susannah,” he said in his sexy accent, rolling to his side to face her, “nothing has even happened yet.” She pulled a bottle of mineral water from her tote and took a swig. He was right. She was being neurotic. His attention now completely focused on Susannah, Hagen moved her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Tell me about your husband.” “My husband?” No one but her family and Toby ever mentioned Stephen. Other people liked to respectfully gloss over her marriage as if it hadn’t happened. Hagen only nodded. “How did you meet?” Susannah thought back to the time she’d seen Stephen walk into a party at her sorority house. He’d been wearing a black Van Halen t-shirt, and his blond hair was tousled. His smile lit up the room. “Well, we’d known each other since we were twelve. We became friends and hung out a lot. I never really noticed him as a man until freshman year in college. He’d grown so handsome and full of bright ideas. All the girls liked him.” “And he liked only you?” “No. Not at first. He needed a little convincing before he settled down.” “Settled down?” he asked, confused. “Before he wanted to date just one girl.” “Ah.” He smiled. “And what were you like at university?” “Me?” She sat silent for a long moment. “I was good. Good grades, good associations, never got drunk, worked hard trying to please everyone.”

70

Renee Knowles

“And you are still good.” “Am I?” Nervous discussing herself, she took another sip of water and sat up, taking in the view. Seagulls floated above the diamond brilliance of the water, and sailboats with bright rainbow masts floated along in the light wind. As she scanned the beach, Susannah caught sight of two gorgeous darkhaired women to the left of them. She adjusted the new Gucci sunglasses she’d bought yesterday. “Are those women not wearing any tops?” Hagen’s gaze followed hers. “Yes. I mean, no. They are not.” “And that is okay here?” “Why not?” Why not? Well, there were families on the beach for one. Although the children playing in the water didn’t even spare a glance toward the half-naked women. Fascinated by the women’s brazenness, her eyes drifted back to them. The topless twosome had smooth, cocoa-colored skin with firm, perky breasts. They were Italian or Spanish, perhaps. And as Susannah glanced around, she noticed they weren’t the only two sunbathing exposed. Hagen stared at Susannah, his brown eyes twinkling. “Why are you so curious? Would you like to take your top off?” “No! No. Are you insane?” Her 34Bs would stay right where they belonged, under wrap. She glanced down at her navy halter. “The girls are fine and dandy as they are, thank you very much.” His fingers slowly made their way down her bikini neckline to the top of her décolleté. “They are very beautiful. You have nothing to hide.” His knuckles stroked her intimately, and his voice came out low and husky. A bead of sweat darted down her back, and it was as much from the heat of Hagen’s words, as from the heat of the sun. She cleared her throat. “I think I’ll stick with hiding all the same.” “Yes. You must be good.” That was who she was. Good, proper, sweet, Susannah. Hagen shrugged and reclined back. “It matters little to me. I only thought

Going Topless

71

you might want to be less uptight.” Her spine stiffened. “I am not uptight. I merely choose not to show my breasts to all of the Netherlands.” “Okay.” “You don’t believe me?” she asked. “Fine. You are right. Be yourself.” “Be myself?” Susannah said, puzzled. “Do you mean suit myself?” “Ja, yes. Just do what you want.” “I will.” She lay back down and closed her eyes, letting the sun beat down on her. She wasn’t going to be talked into something so…wild. After all, she was nearly forty. And she was no exhibitionist. She cracked her eyes open. “How come you’ve never asked me my age?” “Because it doesn’t matter to me.” He said it so matter of fact. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe she was making way too much of this. Susannah pushed herself back up and watched Chelsie and Mattie splash around in the water. Chelsie wore a hot Rio-style bikini, but Mattie had on a pair of shorts and a tank top. Mattie certainly didn’t take any chances. Is that how Susannah wanted to live? Respectable, modest, and boring? She checked to be sure Courtney and her crew weren’t paying any attention to them. This would probably be the stupidest, most ridiculous thing she’d ever done. But in one quick motion, she unhooked her halter-top and flung the scrap of silky material to the towel. “Fantastisch,” Hagen breathed as he stared wide-eyed at her. He let out a low whistle. She moved toward him, her breast skimming his arm. The sensation made her nipple tingle and tighten. “Uptight, my ass,” she whispered. He laughed. “You are one amazing woman, Susannah.” Susannah rested back down with a smile on her face. The warmth of the sun hitting her boobs felt unfamiliar and more than a little naughty. She had to resist the urge to cover herself up with her hands. Hagen seemed completely

72

Renee Knowles

comfortable to blatantly watch her. “It’s rude to stare,” she teased. Yet he didn’t laugh. Hot desire burned in his eyes, and his eyes weren’t the only thing responding. “For a man who said he didn’t care what I did, it certainly looks like you care.” He turned onto his stomach, and then smiled. “I lied.” Delight skittered its way down to the tip of her big toe. God, she remembered this sense of feminine power. And she reclaimed it with gusto. Hagen leaned in to her, his breath smelling faintly of mint and the cola he’d been sipping. “I want you.” Heat pooled in her pussy. She was warm and wet in places she hadn’t been warm and wet in ages. Oh, God. He was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes, longing to taste him. But just as his lips brushed hers, she heard a high-pitched voice—Mattie’s voice. “I need more sunscreen. My nose probably looks like a cherry tomato.” Susannah’s eyes flew open, and she shot up, knocking her skull against Hagen’s. “Scheisse.” Hagen rubbed the front of his head. Susannah ignored her own throbbing forehead. She saw Mattie standing in front of them, talking to Courtney. Panic welled in her chest. She couldn’t let the others see her so exposed. “What the hell was I thinking?” She grabbed her bikini top and desperately tried to get it back in position. “Will you help me please?” she cried to Hagen, her fumbling fingers unable to hook the back of her halter. “Relax. Do not worry.” His strong fingers fastened the clasp in no time, but not before Mattie caught the incriminating episode. Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head at Susannah. In her critical mode, Mattie had an uncanny ability to make you feel like a fifth grader being brought before the principal. “Shit,” Susannah said.

Going Topless

73

“What?” Hagen demanded. “What the hell is wrong?” “Mattie saw us!” Panic rising, she covered her face with her hands. “She saw me acting like a two-bit stripper and kissing a horny womanizing German boy toy.” She clamped her jaw shut. Did she really say that? She groaned and sheepishly picked her head up. But Hagen was already standing and folding up his beach towel. “A horny womanizing boy toy?” He scowled. “At least now I know what you think of me.” He stalked down the beach, plopping his towel down several yards away, and then heading toward the water. The whole group in front of her had turned and watched the little display, Lainey with a derisive smirk on her face. She’d screwed up. Royally. Now, what the hell was she going to do to fix it?

74

Renee Knowles

Chapter 9

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 9. Trust your instincts. Don’t believe every sweet word and flattering remark you hear. Liars are a dime a dozen. Let him charm you, but not fool you. Sunday, 11:00 am Vondelpark If clothes make the woman, then Mattie’s sexy one hundred euro Levis— that she could’ve easily bought for forty dollars in Denver—had to make her one hot chick. At least that was her hope as she tried to casually pull the mid-rise waist up while walking and holding a bag filled with food at the same time. Chelsie had insisted the lower rise was in, but Mattie couldn’t get used to a pant cutting below her natural waist. “Where should we sit?” Mattie asked Tevin as they wound their way through the enormous expanse of the park. “Over here.” He walked toward one of the few patches of lawn not already taken by those out enjoying the sunny summer day. Vondelpark was a zoo. A grass and tree-lined zoo of humans of every type—dark-skinned, light-skinned, inline-skaters, bicyclists, and clandestine lovers smooching behind foliage. She’d planned the picnic especially for Tevin today, hoping for some time alone, and more than just the subtle hint of romance he’d given her so far. It was time to make her play.

Going Topless

75

When they reached the open grass, Tevin laid out the blue and white quilt he’d taken from the apartment, and Mattie plopped her bag down. She took a seat on the quilt, trying to find a comfortable position where her new tight jeans didn’t pinch the small rolls on her stomach, making them appear larger. This arrangement caused her to half-recline back, resting uncomfortably on her elbows, with her legs folded up. The material still cut into her belly, but she tried for a small smile as Tevin sprawled next to her. He emptied the bread, berries, and cheese out of the bag from the market she went to this morning. “You’ve brought a feast.” He pulled out the two chocolate-filled croissants she’d picked up for dessert. A warm glow filled her at his praise. “I tried to get a few things I thought you’d like.” Just then, an energetic brown puppy went running past them, briefly losing his footing on their quilt before racing off again. A redheaded little boy of maybe four or five chased after it, screaming “stop” in English several times. “Stupid mutt,” Tevin snapped. “He threw grass all over.” He leaned across her to brush the dirt and lawn from the end of the comforter. Mattie breathed in his cologne. It smelled woodsy, citrus and expensive. She loved a man who could carry off a sexy scent. Tevin’s style was always impeccable. Especially for a man out of a job. “I thought the dog was adorable,” Mattie said, checking out the way Tevin’s Hugo Boss jeans hugged his ass. “As a child, I always wanted a puppy, but my dad thought they were too much work.” And in Mattie’s house, her dad’s word was final. Tevin sat back next to her. “Bloody nuisance is what they are. Sounds like your father knows what he is talking about.” For a moment she didn’t respond. “My parents died a long time ago.” Her words rang hollow, perhaps because she felt hollow. His forehead wrinkled. “Sorry. Bad bit of luck, love.” Then he turned from her and grabbed the corkscrew and the wine she’d bought. Bad bit of luck? What kind of response was that? She hadn’t expected

76

Renee Knowles

sympathy, but maybe some kind of emotion. Their conversations always floated around the superficial. And Tevin had a manner of keeping it that way. As she watched him pull the cork from the bottle, she thought about her pop. He’d never hit or abused her, but he’d never loved her either. He spent most of his time after the construction accident watching television or sleeping in his recliner. Maybe he thought himself less of a man with a lame leg. She wasn’t sure. He certainly didn’t know how to deal with an active little girl. When he died of a heart attack at the age of fifty-nine, she knew her mother wouldn’t be long behind. The doctors said she’d probably had an aneurysm, although the exact cause was never determined. But Mattie knew it was the loss of her father that her mom couldn’t take. “This is very cool. Picnicking in Vondelpark,” Tevin said to fill the silence. “The park is always kickin’ on a Sunday.” “It’s massive. I had no idea it would be so big.” “It’s the Central Park of the Netherlands.” He offered the wine to her. “Do you want a swig?” “Sure. I was hoping we could drink openly in the park.” “Why the hell wouldn’t we?” He snickered. “You’re not in Denver anymore.” He made Denver sound like some little hick village. She grabbed the bottle from him and took a slow, long swallow, wishing she’d remembered to snatch some glasses from the apartment. The vintage was a smooth 2001 Chateau D’aiguilhe, a dark, nearly black, French concoction. Mattie’s knowledge of wine could fit on the tip of her little finger, but it was thirty-five euro and the storeowner had insisted it would be impressive. Tevin took the bottle back from her and downed a healthy mouthful. “A-hh,” he drew out when he finished. “So, what do you think?” Mattie asked. “Don’t know shit about wine. But if it gets me snockered, then it’s all right in my book.” He plucked some bread from a loaf she’d gotten at the bakery near the apartment, and then knocked back another drink. The sun hid behind some clouds, leaving the air cool. Mattie considered how to get Tevin to open up as she watched the bicyclists glide over the bridge that connected their side of the lake with the other.

Going Topless

77

She decided learning more about his family would be the best approach. “Are you able to see your family often? Aren’t they still in England?” He shrugged. “I see my mum. She’s all the family I have. Unless you count my filthy rich creep of a brother.” Tevin’s eyes narrowed as he spoke. “Do you know he’s so tight-arsed that he wouldn’t even lend me enough money to buy a new suit for my job hunt? And he’s got plenty. Let me tell you. Fucking barrister, he is.” “That’s so wrong.” Mattie tried to be empathetic. “Family should support one another.” “Exactly! That’s what I told my mum. Thankfully she hasn’t forgotten me. She sends over a little emergency cash when I need it.” Hmm. He’d borrowed fifty euro from Mattie just three days ago. She knew Courtney helped pay his bills, and his mom was also sending over money? It seemed like he was getting plenty of support. “So,” Mattie said. “What exactly was it that you did at your last job?” Tevin glanced away, watching a couple throw a Frisbee nearby. “Oh, you know. A little of this and a little of that. Kind of a man of all trades.” Well, that was clear as mud. “What did you major in at college?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Boozing and hot women.” She giggled. “Very funny. Hey, did you have any luck with that job you told me about at the beach? Was your friend able to set up an interview for you?” Tevin’s mouth drew tight. “Not yet. You know how these things are. They take time.” “Yeah, sure.” Yesterday, he’d asked to borrow another twenty euro for a haircut. The lending was cutting into her vacation fund, and she’d have to make another trip to the ATM. “Well, maybe you’ll have better luck this week.” “This week? I won’t be hunting down a job this week, love.” He pulled up next to her. “I want to spend time with you. You don’t want me racing around all day like a blue-arsed fly when I could be with you, do you?” His words sent a small buzz through her. Tevin gave her a once over, as if he was noticing her for the first time. His eyes settled a little too long on her new white shirred top.

78

Renee Knowles

“You look smashing today.” He picked up a ripe, red strawberry and dangled it over her mouth. Mattie’s denim-smashed stomach did a small flip. It was working! He’d finally noticed her as a woman. For all the time they’d spent together, Tevin hadn’t even held her hand. But Chelsie had assured her the new outfit would wow him because it showcased her best assets—her boobs. Unsure of how to respond to such a compliment, Mattie took a bite of the strawberry Tevin had poised over her lips and then tried to smile seductively. “Is the fruit spoilt?” he asked. “No.” She chewed the last sweet, savory drop. “Why?” “Your mouth was all twisted up.” Great. Her seduction techniques made her look like someone suffering from the stomach flu. He laughed. “Don’t pout.” He handed her the wine again. “Why don’t you take another drink? You’re way too serious this morning.” Serious? She wanted to give the impression of a confident, worldly woman. Only Mattie had no freakin’ clue how to do this dating thing. It seemed she never made the right move. She took another swig hoping the alcohol would work its magic and loosen her up. When she pulled the edge of the container away, a wayward drop fell onto her bottom lip and she caught it with her tongue. “Almost landed on my new shirt,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to stain it.” Tevin seemed inordinately interested in her action. His gaze remained on her mouth and he leaned over. “That wine makes your lips look all deep red and sexy. Immensely kissable.” Oh God! He looked at her like he wanted to take a roll in the grass right here in the park. Her bottom half burned like it was on fire. Her two experiences with sex had been hasty and unfulfilling, at least for her. What she wanted more than sex was the touching, the kissing and the feeling of desirability that came with it. Tevin edged up to her and snaked his arm around her waist. His touch set a current racing through her. But not of passion—of anxiety.

Going Topless

79

Mattie couldn’t breathe. Her throat closed and the air seemed trapped in her lungs. Crapola! She was having a panic attack. Finally she was with a man she liked, and she was going to flip out and have an attack. She didn’t move, just sat stiffly, trying to remind herself not to pant and to breathe slowly in and out. It wasn’t working. Her gasps came out short and jagged. Tevin’s own breath, flowing smooth and even, warmed her neck. “You’re a very cool girl, Mattie.” “Thanks,” she rasped out. He placed small, nibbling kisses on her ear lobe, and then gently swirled his tongue in her ear. Bit by bit his caresses soothed her until her breath quickened again, but not due to panic. As Tevin kissed her throat, he placed his hands around her ribs, and massaged the underside of her breasts with his thumbs. “Your tits are so sexy. So much hotter than those bee stings Courtney has.” Courtney? Being compared to Courtney at a time like this grated on Mattie. But soon his mouth found hers, and she couldn’t think at all. The lingering taste of licorice from the wine mingled with the taste of him on her mouth. He gently pried her lips apart with his tongue and edged it into her mouth. God, he knew how to work it. His kiss was firm, but pliant, not wet and sloppy like the last guy she’d been with who’d made a few messy attempts before sex. Did Tevin like it as much as she did? Was she good at it? He pulled back, his eyes glassy. “I’ve got a mate. He’s been out of the city for the summer. He lets me use his flat for…well, when I need to be alone. You know, it’s not very cool to bring a woman back to the place I share with Courtney.” There she was again, his ex. Must he keep mentioning her? “So, anyway. What do you think? Want to give it a go?” That had to be one of the harshest proposals a woman could hear. Yet, it was a proposal. And Mattie didn’t think she could afford to be picky. She drew a deep breath. Something didn’t feel quite right. Was this the way she wanted it to be? Tevin was staring at her, expectation in his gorgeous green eyes.

80

Renee Knowles

Mattie bit her lip. “Sure,” she said. “All righty, then.” He quickly began picking up their picnic. Even though the affirmation had tumbled out of her mouth, in reality, Mattie wasn’t sure at all.

Going Topless

81

Chapter 10 27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 10. Never covet thy neighbor’s man. Don’t take what isn’t yours to take. You’ll never get what you want by sacrificing your ideals. Keep your integrity and you will be able to look at your face in the mirror the next morning. Sunday, 11:30 am Courtney’s Apartment “Jack? Who’s Jack?” Chelsie asked as she leaned against the wall by the computer where Susannah sat reading her e-mails. Her sister’s face flushed. “He’s nobody.” Chelsie raised her brows. “I mean, he’s my lawyer,” Susannah quickly corrected. “Nobody special.” Who the heck was this guy? It wasn’t like Susannah to stumble over her answers. “Kinda defensive, eh, Suz?” Susannah huffed and minimized her computer screen. “Forget it. What are you doing eavesdropping on my e-mails anyway?” “Fine, fine. I’ll back away from the computer.” Chelsie put her hands up and stepped back. She’d let it go. It wasn’t like Susannah had an e-mail lover. “What’s eating you today? You’ve barely said a word this morning. Still upset about what happened with you and Hagen at the beach yesterday?” Susannah turned her chair around. “I think it’s better this way with Hagen.” Chelsie rolled her eyes. “What a cop out.”

82

Renee Knowles

“It’s not a cop out.” Susannah pushed away from the desk. “It’s called being practical.” “Which you’ve been too much of your life.” “Better practical than stupid. I was stupid with Stephen. Believing all his lies. Trusting him implicitly.” “So, this isn’t about Hagen at all. This is about the note.” “It’s about Hagen and the note. And more than that.” Susannah stood up and paced. “The night I found Diane’s letter, I searched the house for other signs that Stephen had been unfaithful. It didn’t take me long to find some hotel receipts in his briefcase.” “What does that prove?” Chelsie asked. “Stephen traveled all the time.” Susannah closed her eyes briefly. “That’s the point. These hotel receipts weren’t from his travel. They were from the Brown Palace Hotel right in Denver. And there were at least three of them from the month before he died.” Stephen, you son of a bitch. How could you do this to her? Selfishly, Chelsie had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Martijn, she hadn’t realized how much Susannah was still hurting. She’d seen her laugh and flirt with Hagen and had imagined all was well. A nauseating awareness dawned. Hadn’t Chelsie effectively betrayed Johanna in the same way Stephen had done to her sister? Although Chelsie had tried to push Martijn’s wife from her mind for years, the truth of her affair came into clear focus with Stephen’s betrayal of Susannah. Her stomach sour with guilty thoughts, Chelsie put her arm around Susannah’s shoulders. “Suz, hon, I’m so sorry.” Originally, she’d not wanted to believe her brother-in-law’s infidelity, yet the evidence was mounting. “This is all the more reason to go on with your own life. How many times does a hot, sexy, European like Hagen come into a girl’s life?” “But if I couldn’t even keep Stephen—a man who claimed to love me— satisfied…” “Don’t even go there. There are a whole host of reasons why men are unfaithful. And most of them don’t have anything to do with love.” This conversation was cutting a little too close to the bone. “Suz, this trip is about the

Going Topless

83

future not the past. Get off your duff and go upstairs. Apologize to Hagen. Smile sweetly. Then pull him into the bedroom and don’t come out for a week.” A brief smile flashed and then Susannah sighed. “I’ve already been upstairs.” “And?” “And he wasn’t home. Or he was ignoring me.” “He isn’t ignoring you. Yet if he’s out, and Mattie’s in Vondelpark with Tevin, and Courtney is God only knows where, then what the hell are we doing here?” Susannah raised her hands in an “I don’t know” gesture. “You’re right. Let’s get out of here.” **** Wearing a short denim skirt and a baby blue t-shirt sporting a western gray whale and the phrase, “End whaling. Hunt Morons.” on it, Chelsie strutted down Prinsengracht in Central Amsterdam. She wanted to take Susannah’s mind off Stephen and Hagen and help her get out of her rut. Her sister had other plans. “Chels,” Susannah began as she walked around a woman pushing a baby stroller, “have you ever been in love? I mean, you’ve talked about a lot of guys, but never any specific one.” Chelsie took a misstep and had to stop herself from flinging forward onto the rough stone. She so did not want to have this conversation. Love? She’d been in obsessive, soul-wrenching, kick-you-in-the-gut love for six years, with nowhere to turn for relief. Except for sex. Sex took the edge off for a little while. In fact, the list of things she loved about Martijn was nearly as long as the list of things she despised. And the combination was lethal. She remembered the way his eyes would roam over her, even before they’d first made love, like he’d already touched her, seen her naked, and knew her intimately. And the way he’d let her talk about herself, like no one else had ever done. Her parents certainly hadn’t been interested in her dreams. They were blinded by Susannah’s steadfastness and accomplishments and couldn’t

84

Renee Knowles

understand Chelsie’s free spirit. They spent more time molding her to be like her sister than learning what made her tick. “Not sure if I should take your silence as a yes or a no,” Susannah said, a hint of frustration in her voice. “How about no comment.” “That’s not going to fly.” “Okay. Yes, I’ve been in love. But it wasn’t all birds singing and rose petals. It was steamy, combustible, and explosive. And eventually, it blew up.” Susannah was silent for a long moment. “I want that.” “A love that blows up on you?” “No. Steamy. Combustible. Sex so hot it makes your toes curl.” “Are you sure about that, Suz? Because you haven’t exactly jumped at the chances you’ve been given.” “I don’t know. I guess I’m confused. Maybe there’s some sort of impenetrable glacial wall around me. Maybe I’m frigid.” “Frigid? Not after you flashed your boobs on the beach.” “Must you remind me?” “Hey! I was shocked. I almost wouldn’t have believed it if Mattie hadn’t nearly fainted. You did your baby sister proud.” “Oh my God.” “Listen. You know how to go after what you want in business.” “Yeah.” “Same principles apply to men,” Chelsie said. “When it comes to sex, they’re easy. Target who you want and make a bid for him.” “I’ve never looked at it like that.” They walked silent for a while until Susannah’s attention was diverted by a café on the corner advertising ice cream, her second love next to Saucy-lito. “I’m going to stop and get a cone.” Chelsie scrunched up her nose. “Count me out. You go ahead.” The line was long so she plopped down on a bench to wait.

Going Topless

85

Susannah stood behind a pair of guys, one tall with punk spiked black and purple hair and the other bald. Chelsie blinked. In front of them stood the cute guy who’d flirted with her at the bakery. The one whose eyes reminded her of Richard. He was even foxier without his apron and hat. And when he left the café window, he spotted Chelsie and made a beeline for her. “Ah, Mademoiselle Brioche. Why do you sit here all alone?” “I’m waiting for my sister. She’s in line.” Chelsie pointed toward the café. “You do not want ice cream?” “I’m not a big fan.” “A big fan?” he asked. “You know, I just don’t like it too much.” “What do you like?” She smiled coyly. “Well, now. That might be getting just a little too personal.” “Getting personal is exactly what I’d like to do, mademoiselle.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam. “Very tempting. But I’m involved with someone.” Where had that come from? She wasn’t really attached. Yet, this was what she’d done the entire year she’d slept with Martijn. She’d closed herself off from other men, while he’d gone home to his wife. The clerk—she realized she still didn’t know his name—rose from the bench and took her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You know where to find me, if you should change your mind.” “Who was that?” Susannah stood behind her, eating her ice cream. Chelsie rose. “Just some guy.” “Well, that ‘some guy’ was pretty cute.” “He’s not my type.” Susannah devoured her ice cream as they walked toward central Amsterdam.

86

Renee Knowles

Chelsie despised dairy. Her stomach turned watching her sister eat. “Do you know what they do to most cows raised for dairy production?” she asked. “They’re extremely confined. They don’t get to nurse their young and are treated like machines.” The corner of Susannah’s mouth drew down in a grimace. “Not Dutch cows. Don’t they wear cute bells with ribbons and roam along the farmland?” Chelsie huffed. “The cow bells are Swiss, not Dutch.” “Well,” Susannah said, taking another lick of chocolate, “thanks for the info. Really brightened my day. But I’ll take my chances.” They passed a small Delftware store, where glossy, striking ceramics winked at them from the window. Susannah fell prey to their charm. “Another small detour.” She grasped Chelsie’s elbow and guided her into the shop. Hanging on a center pegboard display was a magnificent Delftware plate depicting Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring. “Isn’t that gorgeous?” Susannah shrieked. “It’s all right.” Despite the fact that she’d lived in Amsterdam for a year, Chelsie preferred Andy Warhol to Golden Age masters. Susannah shrieked again when she saw the price tag. “Damn. I could buy the real thing for that price.” “Quality Delftware will cost you.” Her sister let go of the white ticket hanging from the oblong plate. “Did you read Tracy Chevalier’s book about the history of this painting?” Chelsie snorted. “When’s the last time I read a novel?” She believed fiction was for people with rich fantasy lives. She lived steeped in reality. “I saw the movie, though. Can’t resist anything with Colin Firth.” “Who do you think Vermeer used as his model?” Susannah asked. Her head tilted to the side as she checked out the plate. “Do you think it was a love interest? Or a protégé as Chevalier envisioned?” “I don’t know. But if he looked like Colin Firth, then the mystery model must have been one happy girl.” Susannah’s mouth twisted. “Please. He didn’t look like Colin Firth. And

Going Topless

87

he had a wife. That’s the one part of the rumors that swirl around this painting that does me in. Infidelity, whether physical or mental, is abhorrent. I can’t stomach it.” The knife couldn’t have twisted any harder in Chelsie’s heart if Susannah had known about her affair with Martijn. Why should remorse overwhelm her now, when he wasn’t even with Johanna anymore? Despite their differences, Susannah was Chelsie’s best friend, someone she always counted on. When she’d first returned from Amsterdam, the pain had been too fresh to tell Suz about her affair. And, later, after their father died, it never seemed like the right time. Chelsie had hoped someday to be able to confide in her about Martijn. The omission had left an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Somehow, it seemed as if she was never being entirely truthful with Susannah. And she’d have to lie again tomorrow. Chelsie had another liaison with Martijn in the afternoon. With the pain Stephen had caused her sister, Chelsie now recognized that she’d never be able to reveal her extra-marital affair. No matter how bad Martijn and Johanna’s relationship had been or how much Chelsie had loved him. Susannah purchased a smaller, less expensive piece of Delftware and they left the tiny shop. Across from the store stood the famous Westerkerk, a protestant church in view of the house where Anne Frank hid during World War II. A crowd was leaving the building, perhaps from late services. “Let’s check out this church,” Susannah said. Chelsie wanted Susannah to enjoy her sightseeing and forget about Stephen, but church wasn’t part of her plans. It wasn’t that Chelsie didn’t believe in God. She believed all right. She believed He was omnipotent and all seeing, just as she’d been taught in catechism as a child. And, if He had seen all she’d done, well, He wouldn’t want her back in His house again. “Why don’t we head to the Anne Frank house instead? It’s only—” She clamped her mouth shut and her teeth knocked together with a crunch. Oh. My. God. The blood drained from her face so quickly her skin prickled. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. He was out of town for the weekend. But it was Martijn, leaving Westerkerk. And he wasn’t alone. A young, willowy woman with golden brown hair hung on his arm, looking up at him and

88

Renee Knowles

laughing at something he said. Chelsie knew the woman’s expression, because it was the same one she’d worn six years before. Guileless. Adoring. Blissful. She’d bet her Birkenstocks that the delicate ethereal woman was one of Martijn’s students. His eyes scanned Chelsie’s way, and she freaked. Chelsie clenched Susannah’s arm and shoved her back into the Delftware store. Susannah gasped at Chelsie’s roughness, and when the glass door slammed behind them, she whirled on Chelsie. “What the hell are you doing?” She rubbed her forearm. “What’s going on?” The storeowner rushed over, probably surprised by their abrupt reappearance, and asked if they needed help. It was all background noise to Chelsie. Susannah’s questions sounded like bees buzzing over the fierce pounding of Chelsie’s pulse. Chelsie shook her head and absentmindedly picked up a Delftware tile, mumbling something about looking around. Through the bubbled, old shop window, her eyes never left Martijn. One of the other churchgoers greeted him and his companion as if they were regular attendees. Church? Martijn? Something had changed. Something had shifted in him. This was no hidden relationship. He wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with this woman. And right then, Chelsie knew. She knew what she’d never been able to see clearly before. Martijn would never feel that way about her. She would always be the other woman. First to Johanna, and now to this naïve creature. Martijn took the golden-haired woman’s hand and squeezed, guiding her up Prinsengracht as if he was proud. Proud to be with her. Proud to be a couple. And there Chelsie stood, tears overflowing her eyes, watching them in a blurred fury, never feeling more ashamed.

Going Topless

89

Chapter 11 27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 11. Never initiate sex. Always let the man feel like he is the one in control. Men enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Don’t make it too easy for him. Monday, 8:30 am In front of Hagen’s Apartment Susannah hesitated, her hand suspended in mid-air. She tried to mentally will it to knock on Hagen’s door, but she couldn’t. She whirled away from the entrance and paced in a circle around the tiny landing. Why should her heart be pounding? It was only sex. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d finally believe it. Today, she’d not only worn sexy underwear—a beautiful ivory satin set with a boy-cut bottom—but she’d worn a skirt. A modern-cut ivory skirt with black trim that she’d bought on their shopping excursion last week. She’d topped the outfit off with a form-fitting black top and Christian Lacroix ankle-strap “do me” heels. The shoes were a splurge from her last trip to New York for a gourmet food show. And they were probably as out of place in Denver as they were on this rickety old landing in Amsterdam. She sighed. The look epitomized the Susannah of many years ago. The Susannah who knew how to make a man’s mouth water. She was determined to be that woman again. Stopping in front of the brass knocker, she drew in a deep breath. This time she was going to do it. Take him into the bedroom and don’t come out for a week. Chelsie’s words echoed in her mind. First she had to make him forgive her.

90

Renee Knowles

She dropped her hand again. The door flew open. “Yes?” Hagen demanded. He stood there with his hair pulled back, looking sexy enough to make her mouth dry as cotton. He wore a pair of dark denim jeans and a white polo shirt, and the tingles raced down her back as they had the first time she’d seen him. “I…” Susannah stopped. “How did you know I was out here?” He smiled slyly. “I heard you come up the stairs. They squeak.” She blew out a huffy breath. “Then you knew I was here the whole time?” “Yes.” What, was he staring through the peephole? “Why the hell didn’t you open the door sooner and put me out of my misery?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought it might be good for you to suffer some embarrassment. You were very unkind the other day.” He shrugged. “But, I got impatient, and here I am.” Insolent man. “Am I still supposed to be made to suffer? Or can I come in?” Hagen opened the door wider and stepped aside. She walked into the living room, decorated with a jeweled-tone plaid sofa and matching chair. A small glass end table sat between them. A hallway led from the living room to two other rooms and to her left was a tiny eat-in kitchen. It was smaller than Courtney’s place, but she was struck right away by how clean Hagen kept his uncle’s apartment. “I came to see you yesterday,” she said. “Only you weren’t home.” “I came back late last night.” His voice was flat, and he offered no further explanation. Had he been with a woman? “You must be very sorry about what happened the other day,” he said from behind her. She whirled around. “Why is that?” His eyes traveled over her. “Your clothes. Very Sexy. You look delicious.”

Going Topless

91

“Delicious? I think you must have your English confused.” He shook his head. “No. I speak correctly. Don’t you Americans have an expression? Good enough to eat?” “How would you know that?” “My friend Thomas likes to say this when he sees an attractive woman.” Susannah rolled her eyes. “Your friend is corrupting you.” “Well, you do look delicious. Then, I make this too easy for you.” He crossed the room, plunked down on the sofa and extended his hand toward her. “You may start.” “I may start?” “Yes. Your apology.” “Puh-lease.” Irritation rose. So what if he said she was delicious? “I’m not so sure I want to apologize now. Not when you have such a cocky attitude.” She twirled on her stilettos and stalked toward the still-open entrance. Hagen bounded off the sofa and slammed the door shut. “Susannah.” He searched her eyes. All he’d said was her name in that crazy accent of his, but she heard so much underneath. “I am sorry, Hagen.” She shook her head. “What I said at the beach was inexcusable. And it’s not how I really feel. I was upset about Mattie seeing us and I panicked. I—” He stopped her rambling by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. She gasped. Damn. Hagen was long and lean and hard all over. He smelled clean, like soap with a hint of citrus and maybe papaya. He must have just showered and her fingers itched to reach out and fondle the few pieces of damp hair fallen from his ponytail. She was eye-level with the vee of his polo shirt, and dark, curly hairs poked out the top. Stephen’s chest had been smooth. How would it feel to run her hand over Hagen’s coarse hairs? “Okay,” Hagen said, causing her to raise her eyes. “Okay, what?”

92

Renee Knowles

“I forgive you.” He said it like a proclamation, and for a moment, annoyance resurfaced. But then he continued, “I have a secret. Last night, when I returned home, I stopped by Courtney’s apartment to see you. And I could not knock either.” Then his large palms cupped her face and he kissed her. This wasn’t any first kiss. No tentative fumbling. No sweet brushing of the lips as he’d done at the beach. This was a full blown sensual assault. He kissed her like he was desperate for her, like he needed her now. Susannah hadn’t been kissed like this in years. Marriage brought complacency. Hagen was anything but complacent. His fingers wandered over her body, pressing into the flesh of her back, pulling her closer to him. Her body responded. Her nipples hardened, and her satin panties grew damp. If she’d had a glacial wall around her before, it was now a melted puddle. His firm lips, his sinewy body, his hands roaming over her back and shoulders, overwhelmed her. Tugged at her senses until she was afraid she’d lose control. It was too quick, too intense, and more than she could handle. She pulled away. “Don’t you have classes today?” she rasped. He nibbled on her lower lip. “Fuck them.” Once more his mouth was on hers, his tongue pulsing, swirling. He was unshaven, and his slight beard brazed her chin. Every feminine instinct she had sprung to life. She wanted to caress the hard muscles of his back, lick his nipples, and press against every sinewy inch of his flesh. His hands found her bottom, and he pressed their hips together until she could feel his very excellent hard-on. Double damn. He picked her up and carried her to the small wooden table in the kitchen. Pulling off her shoes one at a time, he whispered, “You did not need to dress like this to get my attention.” He tossed her left shoe aside and slid his hand over her calf. “You had me right here—” he pressed his thumb into her the palm of her hand “—from the night I met you and you said I was too young, and…how did you put it? I had ‘a lot of balls’.” Susannah groaned. “Ah, sorry about that.” He kissed her. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve never had a woman tell me those

Going Topless

93

things before. And I realized I needed to get to know you more.” “I suppose,” she teased, as his hand continued to stroke her calf, “that showing my breasts off at the beach didn’t hurt either?” He winked. “A bonus.” Hiking up her skirt, Hagen ran his fingers over the sensitive flesh of her thigh, all the while kissing her, his mouth pressing against her lips and neck. He licked the hollow of her throat, and gently bit the tender skin on her shoulder. “Susannah. Liebling Susannah.” She had no idea what he’d called her, but damn it sounded sexy. Sexual energy pulsing through her, she grabbed him around the neck and found the band holding his dark, wavy hair. She pulled it free, running her fingers through the damp mass. Hagen groaned and brought his hand up to massage her breast. She flinched. “I am sorry.” His breath came out in jagged gasps. “I should never have taken it this far.” “No. It’s me. It’s me.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Don’t stop.” “Are you sure?” His voice was gruff, and his breathing heavy. “The night I first met you, I gave you a choice about us. Are you certain this is your choice?” She was sure most college-aged American men would’ve just taken what was offered. And the fact that he’d asked her this question pushed aside her slight hesitation. His eyes searched hers, and his deft fingers continued to caress her leg. His desire was palpable with each stroke, moving higher and firmer until she couldn’t take it anymore and she grabbed his hand, placing it firmly between her thighs. “Yes, Hagen,” she said. “I’m sure. Surer than I’ve been about anything in a long time.” He let out a low growl and kissed her. His mouth moved from her throat to her collarbone, stopping to snake his tongue around the soft hollow at the base of her neck. His lips sent tingles down her spine, and any nervousness she might have been feeling disappeared.

94

Renee Knowles

As much as his kisses were driving her wild, his hand between her legs was maddeningly still. He was going to make her wait. Pressure building inside her, she pressed his palm into her dampness. It had been so long. “Patience, Liebling,” he whispered. “I’m an impatient American, remember?” He grinned, and ran his lips over hers again. Susannah trembled as Hagen slowly began to trace a leisurely path with his mouth. He trailed his kisses down the side of her neck, nipping at the lobe of her ear. Finally, he rubbed her pussy. He pressed harder, stronger, and then brought his other hand to her breast. Heat shot through her. She needed more. “Please, Hagen.” She could hear the plea in her voice. “Please, what?” “Please, harder.” “All in good time,” he said, stroking her until she thought she’d burst. She lifted her hips up to meet his hand, and he gently stroked her aching nub. Her breath grew heavy and fast. He kept massaging her inner folds with his fingers, moving in a maddening circular motion. “Ah, Susannah. You are so sexy like this. So carefree.” He flicked his tongue over her left nipple. “Lay down for me.” She did as he asked, and soon his mouth was moving lower, over her ribs and stomach, to the sensitive skin at the juncture of her thighs. He twirled his tongue, licking and swirling inside her. She thought she would jump from her skin. She’d experienced oral sex before, but never like this. Pushing her hips against him, she could feel her wetness drip beneath her. “God, you’re so wet,” Hagen said when he came up for air. “You’re driving me insane.” Susannah ran her hands over the tense, taut muscles in his back, silently entreating him for more. He didn’t disappoint, moving his head back between her legs. The entire act was wicked and intoxicating. He stroked and fondled her with his tongue, consuming her as if she were a delicacy. Then he stuck one finger into her core,

Going Topless

95

while he still licked her. “Oh… Hagen…” Violent sensations shook her, and his touch sent her spiraling higher. She shut her eyes. Then, fire exploded, blazing down her spine right to her core. Her control shattered, and she drowned in wave after wave of blazing sensations. When she could finally talk, “Wow” was all that came out of her mouth. Okay, it wasn’t brilliant, but Hagen didn’t seem to care. “Get up, Susannah.” He took her hand and helped her rise. “I want all of you this time,” she breathed. Susannah ran her hand along his cock, reveling in his hardness. It felt like he might split the front of his jeans. She popped the button fly and pushed his jeans and underwear down. He hissed when she wrapped her fingers around his length. His flesh was silky, and she couldn’t resist massaging it. But he stilled her hand. “Okay, Liebling, you’d better stop or I’ll explode.” He kissed her and she could taste herself on him. It turned her on even more. “Do you have something?” She wasn’t sure he would understand, but he ran quickly to the bedroom and came back with a condom. She rolled it down his cock, massaging it as she went. His eyes closed and he moaned. When she was done, he commanded, “Turn around.” She did, and he gently pushed her forward so her hands were on the table and her back was facing him. He grasped her around her waist and slid in her from behind. Susannah gasped. Hagen’s thrusts were slow and gentle at first, but his pace became quicker and more insistent. “Oh, Gott,” he moaned. He tightened his arm at her waist as he pushed in and out. The friction built in her once again, as his free hand reached up to rub her nipple. Her body shook, the orgasm rocking her. Then Hagen came, shuddering. He pulled her as close to him as she could

96

Renee Knowles

get, and she could feel his hard gasps against her shoulder. Breathless, spent, and wanting nothing more than to be with Hagen again, Susannah leaned back against him. His penis still felt hard inside her. From somewhere in the apartment she heard a clock chime. Ten in the morning. Thank heaven. They still had all day. **** “Toe curling sex,” she murmured sometime later, lying on top of Hagen’s damp—and, hmm…slightly sticky—white duvet cover. “What?” She glanced over at him. His face was faintly flushed and his breathing still hard from round three. “I said, how does one so young, know how to make a woman’s toes curl?” Some sort of male prideful emotion passed over his face, and he kissed her. “How do you say in English? Instinct.” “Well, if more men had instinct like you, women would be walking around with silly grins all day.” Steady rain beat against the round, paned window, leaving the air heavy and the room dark. She ran her hand over Hagen’s chest, her palm scraping over the dense wiry hair. A satisfied kind of lethargy swept over her. Hagen rose and kissed the hollow near her right pelvic bone, working his way over the hot, moist flesh of her thigh to her calf muscle. She laughed when he caressed the ball of her foot and brought her ankle to his lips. “Ah, your feet tickle. Now I know one of your secrets.” “I think after making love to me all day, you know more secrets than that.” His eyes sparkled and he lay back beside her. “Like the noises you make when you come.” “Hagen! I do not.” He pulled her against him, sweaty flesh against sweaty flesh, spooning like she used to do as a teenager. “Ja. You do. Soft moans and cries.”

Going Topless

97

Even though she’d let him do things to her that she hadn’t done in years, her cheeks still burned. “What will the neighbors think?” Hagen let out a deep laugh. She could feel his chest rise and fall against her back. “Still wanting to be good?” “What do you think? Am I good?” Pulling her closer, he moved his hand around and cupped her breast. “Better than good.” As they lay there, his erection grew against her butt, until he was fully aroused. Certainly the promise she’d seen in his unseemly swimsuit was more than fulfilled. She turned to face him. “Aren’t you tired yet?” But she reveled in his desire for her. He pushed the hair back from her face. “Us young men can hold out a lot longer than the old ones can.” “Oh, really?” She reached down to stroke the silky flesh of his erection. “I ought to take advantage of that.” “Think you can keep up?” Susannah climbed on top and kissed her way down his stomach until her mouth reached the tip of his penis. She licked, delighting in his quick intake of breath. “Keep up?” she breathed. “I can do better than that.”

98

Renee Knowles

Chapter 12

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 12. Always be a lady. Be girlish. Be alluring. Flaunt your femininity. Remember all the things your mama taught you. Men love a graceful woman. Monday, 11:00 pm Irish Pub Chelsie belched and then quickly covered her mouth. “How charming.” Mattie looked at her askance. Yet Chelsie only giggled and burped again. It was all exceedingly amusing. Mattie smacked her own forehead. “Do I need to cut you off already?” “No, no. It’s just this damn dark ale. Gets me every time.” “Well, then, don’t drink it. It ain’t rocket science.” Actually, Chelsie hated dark beer. It was all Martijn used to keep in his home when they’d been together. Some Godforsaken German stuff. And the fact that it affected her in a very unladylike manner pissed Martijn off to no end. He used to tell her she couldn’t handle it. So, tonight, she’d ordered four pints already. She fingered the smooth glass, knowing she should slow down. Ah, what the hell. Chelsie took another swig and slammed the glass onto the nicked wooden table. “Son of a bitch.” “Excuse me?” Mattie’s dark eyes grew round, which wasn’t easy

Going Topless

99

considering they were naturally slightly slanted. “I said, uh, am I being a bitch?” “I don’t know what you’re being, but it’s definitely not yourself.” Chelsie had to acknowledge that. Not up to facing Martijn today, she’d called his mobile number and postponed their meeting until tomorrow. Thank God she’d gotten his computerized voice mail. She didn’t think she had the strength to hear his voice. Despite his lying and the pain slicing through her when she remembered his tender expression yesterday, Chelsie was going to meet with him. She just had to get a plan together first. An amazingly clever plan. Right now, she had no clue what that plan would be. “Stupid jerk,” she mumbled. “What?” “I said, ah, I need to find someone to have sex with.” Yes. That would make her feel much better. Thank God she’d worn her sex-kitten tight white capris. Mattie turned her hand outward. “Well, you can have your pick.” Something about Mattie’s tone… “What does that mean?” “Nothing at all. Just, if you want someone, go get him.” Frustration laced her voice. Chelsie took another gulp of the disgusting hops-filled brew. The pub patrons laughed and cheered around her, clapping and guzzling their beer. Some sports game was on the television and for a moment she thought she could’ve easily been in a sports bar in Denver during NFL season. Through her fuzzy brain, she started to realize what might be the cause of Mattie’s edginess. “Hey, what happened the other day with you and Tevin?” Mattie suddenly became interested in her own glass of beer. “Come on. What happened?” Leaning so her bobbed hair fell forward, Mattie placed her elbows on the wobbly table. “Chels, how close are him and Courtney?” “What do you mean? Courtney says they are so over.”

100

Renee Knowles

“Well, maybe that’s what Courtney says, but I’m not so sure Tevin is convinced.” “Why? Did he tell you he still had feelings for her or something?” Mattie grabbed her honey ale and took a long swallow. “He didn’t have to. Her name kept popping up.” Her face twisted. “At the most inopportune moments.” That perked up Chelsie’s attention. “During sex?” “Well, no. We never actually made it that far.” She sat back, pushing the sleeves up on her CU sweatshirt. “We went to this apartment, his ‘mate’s’ place, and, you know, started to get going. But he kept mentioning her name.” Chelsie was briefly distracted from the conversation by the arrival of two very hunky, scruffy-looking dudes. One had the most amazing long blond hair, and he wore a sleek, black leather blazer. He looked immensely lickable, like a gorgeous blond Popsicle. Mattie was impatiently staring at her. Chelsie cleared her throat and took another drink. “You mean, he was calling you by Courtney’s name?” “No. I can’t explain it.” Mattie shook her head. “Her name sort of came up.” She clutched her hands around her glass. “Again and again. I freaked. And I stopped, you know, what we were doing.” “What did Tevin do?” “At first he was really pissed and accused me of being a tease. Then, on the walk home, he calmed down and started sucking up to me.” Mattie paused. “What do you think I should do?” Chelsie tried to keep up with the conversation, but her mind was swirling. Or maybe it was the table? At least to her eyes all the contents seemed to be moving in a dizzying, counter-clockwise circle. “Chels,” Mattie called. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to puke.” Did she have to mention that? Chelsie drew a few long and full breaths. She refocused. That was better. “I’m all right.” She had to drink slower. “What were you saying?”

Going Topless

101

Mattie’s lips remained pursed. “If you’re sure you’re okay. I don’t want you to get sick all over the table.” Chelsie rarely got sick from drinking. She pushed the glass farther away from her. She’d reduce her pace, and she’d be fine. “Anyway,” Mattie said, “I was talking about Tevin, and the fact that I blew it.” “Listen, I doubt you blew it. It’s not exactly like he has women banging down his door. Sure, you two get along well. But you know how I feel about this. The whole thing kind of puts me in a bad position.” “You said Courtney didn’t care for him anymore.” “She doesn’t. But he is her ex. And she’s my friend too.” Mattie clenched her jaw. Chelsie didn’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. She knew Mattie thought she was choosing Courtney over her, but it wasn’t that way at all. She’d warned Mattie about Tevin, told her all she knew about his mooching ways. Mattie was determined. She said he paid attention to her. Chelsie sighed. It was too freaking complicated. “Hey,” Chelsie changed the subject, “did you see the two beefcakes who walked in a few minutes ago?” That brought a smile to Mattie’s face. “Beefcakes? What? Is this the nineties and are we at a Chippendales’ show?” “Whatever.” Chelsie rolled her eyes. “They’re two hotties, anyway. Over there.” She not-too-subtly pointed in their direction, and the blond noticed her, raising his beer in acknowledgment. “You mean the guy who looks like Tucker?” “No! You think he looks like Tucker?” Tucker was her cocky, two-faced, credit-stealing boss. In a meeting before she’d left, he’d been highly praised for the incredible speech he’d given at the State Senate. The one Chelsie and her coworker had written. And he’d never once sent a crumb of recognition their way. “You really think that cool-looking blond reminds you of Tucker?” “Oh. The blond? I thought you were checking out his friend. No, actually. The blond is pretty hot. Go for it.” “What about you? Anybody you’d like to pounce on?”

102

Renee Knowles

Mattie glanced down at the table and shook her head. “You know me. I don’t exactly attract them like bees to nectar.” “Your attitude is such a downer. Attitude is everything in the pick up business.” “Well, first of all, I don’t think of sex like a business, Chels. And secondly, then what would your attitude be tonight? ‘Crying in my beer’?” “I’m not crying,” Chelsie protested. “You’re obviously upset about something. You’ve been snapping all day. You dragged me out here because you said you needed to get wasted. And you keep saying these bizarre things, like ‘Son of a bitch’. Yes. I heard you. Now, what the hell is the problem and who is this son of a bitch?” Chelsie couldn’t help it. She started to giggle. Mattie was so forlorn. Even though she knew Mattie was concerned for her, her giggles grew until she was clutching her sides with full out laughter and she started to hiccup. “Ah, h-e-l-l-o. Not the reaction I was expecting.” “I know. I know, Mattie.” Hiccup. “I’m a mess. An utter, stupid mess.” Hiccup. “And I’m sorry.” Hiccup. “I’m not trying to freeze you out.” Hiccup. “I promise.” “Fine. But for God sakes, would you take a drink, or hold your breath or something. You’re making me crazy.” Chelsie tried both, and eventually the hiccups subsided. She noticed the blond was still eyeing her. She slowly stood. Whew. No dizziness. “Listen, I need to find the toilet.” “Do you want me to come with?” “No. I’ll be fine.” As she returned from the women’s restroom, Chelsie pushed her way through the rowdy crowd, full of hopped up men cheering on some team or another. A big cry went up as she meandered by the cute blond. “Hello,” he shouted to her above the crowd noise. “I’m Brandon.” He had a distinctive accent. “Chelsie,” she said, as she tried to denote his inflection. “And that’s my friend Mattie over there.” She pointed to the tiny table they’d been sitting at. Mattie was staring at her with a cautious expression, and Chelsie waved her over.

Going Topless

103

“You’re British?” “Australian,” he corrected. He had a close-cropped goatee, and she felt a small tingle as his eyes wandered over her, lazily taking in her curves. “Ah, Australian. Down under and all that.” His friend—the one Mattie thought looked like Tucker—pushed his way in front of Brandon. “Don’t let this sop make you think badly of Aussies. We’re not all bastards like this Bushranger.” He extended his hand, sweaty palm and all. “I’m Thomas.” He had scraggily shoulder-length brown hair, and his front tooth was crooked. She gingerly shook his hand, wiping her palm on her capris after pulling away. Gross. He was Tucker all right. Right down to his foul breath. She couldn’t believe she thought they were both attractive when they’d walked in. Mattie reluctantly came over, and the four of them made small talk. Chelsie turned her attention back to Brandon, flirting, touching, and pulling out all the stops. She needed to be desirable tonight. She needed to know she could still turn heads, and maybe move a few other body parts too. Unfortunately, poor Mattie was stuck talking to Tucker II. No chance of fun for her. Chelsie tried to help her by pulling her into her conversation with Brandon, and Mattie sent her a grateful smile. As the banter swirled around Chelsie, her mind still lingered on Martijn. She’d learned a tough lesson yesterday. In the aftermath, she saw it was one she should’ve learned long ago. It was time to make a change. She gritted her teeth. Change, Chelsie thought. Such a dirty, nasty word. And one she’d damn well better get accustomed to in a hurry.

104

Renee Knowles

Chapter 13

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 13. Always know the stakes. Love is a game. Sometimes you play to win. And sometimes you play for fun. Either way, it’s a dangerous business. Be sure you know what you’re willing to gamble. Tuesday, 12:04 am Hagen’s Apartment She’d taken a lover. Susannah did a cat-like stretch on Hagen’s bed, careful not to disturb him. He’d been sleeping for the past half-hour. As she stared at him through the dim light in the bedroom, she saw he appeared quite boyish as he slept. Correction. She’d taken a young lover. How very Sex and the City of her. Rolling over onto her side to better observe the gorgeous man beside her, she waited for the regrets to come. But they didn’t. She couldn’t regret an experience which left her so free, not to mention sated. Albeit a bit sore between her thighs. She did face a twinge of guilt. Guilt over what or whom, she wasn’t sure. Absentmindedly, she reached for the chain around her neck. It wasn’t there. For the first few months after she’d received the call about Stephen’s accident, she’d worn her wedding ring. Then, when the lack of his voice, or sight of his blue eyes made him feel further away, she’d placed the ring on a chain, hoping the closeness to her heart would somehow keep him alive to her. One day about a month ago, the chain had caught on a box she was unpacking at Saucy-lito. It had broken and her ring had crashed to the floor

Going Topless

105

knocking out one of the diamonds on the band. She’d searched nearly the entire tiled floor before she’d found the stone. She’d taken it as a sign, and she hadn’t worn the necklace since. The ring and loose diamond were still sitting in a special teakwood box on the top of her dresser. A car horn honked outside. Denver seemed like a world away as she lay on this short bed listening to the noises from the street below. The rain had stopped a couple of hours before, and now all she heard was laughter, the call of one tourist to another, and the occasional ring of a bicycle bell. The rainfall left the air musty and stale. And the same mossy smell she’d experienced the first day in Amsterdam wafted up to the apartment through the open window. Hagen let out a low snore, which focused her attention back on him. With his hair loose and spread out on the pillow, he looked almost angelic. Like Michael come to defend his flock. His eyes popped open. “Kuss mich,” he said with a mischievous smile. Kiss me. Then he pulled her to him. As his lips moved over hers, she realized she’d been wrong. He was no angel. He was a devil. A hot, sexy devil. And for the moment, he was all hers. Susannah kissed him for a few minutes, delighting in the slow, tender kisses of a man who was well satisfied. Then he held her, stroking her hair, while she silently stared at the white, sloped ceiling. Questions rushed through her mind. “So, where is your uncle, if you’re living in his apartment?” “My uncle has many houses. He travels all over the continent. Right now, he is probably on the Italian Rivera. In a few weeks, when the heat becomes stronger, he will return north.” Italian Rivera. What must it be like to take off for the Rivera? “What does he do for a living?” Hagen’s shoulders inched up. “I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” “He owns a few companies. But I don’t know much. I never asked him.” If it’d been her uncle, she would’ve had all the pertinent information. What if he was a member of the German mafia? Although she doubted there was

106

Renee Knowles

such a thing. Maybe this was another one of their cultural differences? Maybe it would be breaking some sort of code? No nosy family allowed. Susannah realized she knew very little about his family. Actually, other than the fact that Hagen was an amazing lover, had a playful sense of humor, and was very interested in her, she didn’t know much about him. “Tell me about your parents.” He was silent for a minute. “My parents… Well, they live in a modest home about thirty kilometers from Berlin. There they have a little more land than if they’d stayed in the city, and my mother can grow a small vegetable garden in the summer.” “So your mother is a gardener.” Susannah wondered if his mother was much older than her. She wasn’t really sure she wanted to know the answer. “Ja. And she loves to cook, especially using the tomatoes and such that she produces herself.” His hand gestured outward. “My brothers and I love to eat. So, as you Americans would say, ‘it’s all good’.” She looked at him. “You certainly know your American slang.” His face lit up with pride. “Yes. I watch the American television shows. In Amsterdam, many of them are shown in English.” “I see.” She forced her lips not to smile. “You have brothers?” “Two. And they are both much older than me. Much like you and Chelsie.” Uh-huh. She was beginning to understand his comments to her at the pub on the first night, about letting Chelsie make her own choices. He related to Chelsie, and saw Susannah as the older sibling trying to control her. Something about that made Susannah very uncomfortable. “And your Vater?” she asked. His eyes widened. “My father? Ah! You speak Deutsche?” “I speak only a very little German. My father’s grandparents came to America from an area near Cologne, and I picked up a few words. When I would ask my great grandma if I could do something, say have another cookie, she’d say, ‘You must ask your Vater.’” He gave her a quick kiss. “Wunderbar. That is very cool. Then you are German.”

Going Topless

107

“Only half,” she protested. “You asked about my father. He is a good man. Firm, but wise. He works in Berlin, running a factory. He has been there for many years. But the plant is not doing well, and he worries about his future.” He hugged her closer. “No more about me. What about your parents? Your family?” Was it normal to have a “getting to know you” session after you’ve slept with a man? Susannah wondered. She cleared her throat. “My parents divorced when I was twenty. They didn’t fight much, simply grew apart. I suppose they didn’t understand each other anymore. Anyway, my mom is a hoot. She used to be the typical mom, wearing jogging suits and baking for school functions.” She thought PTA might not translate well. “And then she met this new man about two years ago. Now she wears boot-cut jeans, silk blouses and red snakeskin cowboy boots. And she goes country line dancing!” His forehead scrunched. “I do not know this, country line dancing?” That didn’t translate well either. “She goes out to clubs and kicks up her heels.” He smiled. “A hoot? Okay. What about your father?” Her chest tightened. Her dad. Strong, caring, always there for her. The best dad a girl could have. “My dad and I were very close. He died about four years ago.” Even now it hurt to think of him suffering for so long. “He’d been sick with emphysema—lung disease—for many years, and it affected his heart. In the thin air of Colorado, he couldn’t go out without his oxygen. One day, he grew so weak, he couldn’t leave the house at all.” And he changed from her vibrant, witty father to a shriveled shadow of himself. “The old man was a stubborn fool, and he insisted on still living on his own. Although, we’d hired a nurse to care for him.” “Ah, now I see why you are so stubborn.” “I am not stubborn,” she protested halfheartedly. Hell, she knew she was. Hagen ran his large palm over the indentation of her waist, and lightly circled her breast. “You are indeed stubborn. Like a donkey.” Her mouth twitched until she couldn’t hold back a full-blown laugh. “What?”

108

Renee Knowles

“Like a mule,” she said. “The expression is ‘stubborn like a mule.’” He shrugged and grinned. “Mule, donkey, it’s all good.” She shook her head. “No more TV for you.” Hagen laughed and pulled her on top, pressing her to him. Their bodies fit together the way a man and woman should. Hollows and crevices interconnected like a jigsaw puzzle. In a sense, the afterglow of sex was almost more intimate than the act itself, and she was loath to let go of the sensations. But her position left her eye level with the clock on the nightstand. European clocks ran on military time, and it kind of freaked her out to see “00:37” flashing at her digitally. It was after midnight. Susannah knew she had to go. She’d been at Hagen’s the entire day. Chelsie and Mattie were bound to be wondering where she was. Well, Chelsie was probably planning a parade in her honor, but it was still time to go. “You are quiet,” he said. “Sorry.” He traced a finger over her shoulder. “No need to be sorry. Are you all right?” She picked her head up. Susannah knew what he was asking. “Yes. I am okay.” His face relaxed. “Good. Did you get any sleep?” “Um. Not much.” Sleep? Having sex was one thing, but sleeping required a whole other set of rules shared between a couple. “I don’t fall asleep easily.” “Are you hungry? There is a good restaurant on the other end of the straat. I can get us some dinner.” She was hungry. Hagen didn’t keep much food in his apartment, and all she’d had to eat since breakfast was a piece of stale bread and some cookies. But Susannah couldn’t spend the night here. “Listen, Hagen, I have to go.” She rolled over to get out of the bed. Hagen’s arm tightened around her waist. “Not yet.” She pulled away and sat up, scanning the floor for her clothes. “I have to,

Going Topless

109

Hagen.” “Why?” “Because it’s late.” She reached down and grabbed her satin panties. “So? Do you have a curfew?” His accent made the word sound skewed. “Will you be scolded if you come home late?” She couldn’t decide whether he was being humorous or sarcastic, but she looked back to see his eyes twinkling. “Very funny. I won’t be scolded. But everyone will know.” “And? You are embarrassed of me?” Susannah pulled on her underwear. “God, no. You know I’m not. It’s not about that.” “Then what is it about?” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Look. I need to take this in small steps. This whole thing is a big deal for me.” “I know.” “Really? Do you? Do you know that I haven’t been with anyone but my husband for nearly two decades?” Oh, Lord. That was really none of his business. She found her skirt, and quickly pulled it on. “For you, it’s not such a big deal. Probably routine.” “Routine?” He raised his voice and shot up. “Susannah, nothing about you is routine.” “It’s different for you. When this is over, you’ll go about your daily life.” “So will you.” She slumped back down on the bed. “But I won’t be the same.” Hagen came around to her side, naked and unashamed. He was well-toned and sleek, like a wild cat, and seeing him like this made her want him all over again. He took her hands. “Susannah, I do not know what you expect me to say. You live in America, and I live in Germany. It is not as if we can be a real couple.” A real couple? She couldn’t be with him even if they lived two miles

110

Renee Knowles

apart. “I know this. I do!” Now he thought her a clingy neurotic. “I don’t expect anything from you. I’m just being crazy.” “Not crazy, Susannah.” He squeezed her hands. “Just human.” He stared at her with concern. “I was worried about this.” “About what?” “You and these doubts.” “Hagen.” She kissed him, slow, deep, letting him know what the day had meant to her. “I don’t have any doubts. It’s just that maybe the consequences are sinking in now. I had an amazing time. I don’t regret what happened.” She sent him a feeble smile. “Yet, I do have to go.” “All right. Let me dress. I will walk you down.” “You don’t have to,” Susannah said. “It’s only a flight of stairs.” “Yes, but if I say goodbye to you here, I’m likely to throw you onto the bed and make love to you again.” Warmth spread through her. Hagen was sweet and kind and knew how to make her laugh. How had she gotten so lucky as to meet him her first day in Amsterdam? They walked down to Courtney’s apartment together, and he kissed her at the bottom of the stairs. “Danke, Susannah. I will see you tomorrow.” He began to walk away, but then turned back and grinned. “Don’t worry, Liebling. It’s all good.” Her mouth curved up and she drew a deep breath, but she couldn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. Opening the door to Courtney’s apartment, she expected everyone to be in bed, or, with this group, possibly drinking themselves silly. She found the lights on, and Courtney sitting by herself on the sofa with a stack of papers next to her. “Hey,” Courtney said, looking her over. “Long day?” Her lips twitched into a smile, and Susannah couldn’t decide if she was being acerbic or giving her a mental high-five. “Ah, yeah.” Susannah was sure she must appear, well, like a woman who’d been made love to all day. Her hair was a snarled mess, her four hundred dollar shoes were in her hand, and her skirt was wrinkled like an old newspaper.

Going Topless

111

Courtney put her hands up in the air. “It isn’t for me to judge. I’ve always thought Hagen was a babe. Kudos to you for snagging him.” Susannah didn’t know what to make of this conversation. Or for that matter, Courtney herself. So she said, “Um, thanks, I guess.” She glanced around. “Where’s Mattie? Is Chels sleeping?” “Nope. She and Mattie went out. Probably laughing, drinking and picking up some cool guys, while I sit here and grade these papers.” She glanced around. “And Tev… I have no idea what he’s doing.” Susannah’s first thought was: she’d left Hagen’s place for nothing. Her second thought was: she hoped Chelsie didn’t do anything stupid. Chelsie hadn’t been herself since the odd incident during their shopping excursion on Sunday. She’d seen someone, or something, that had freaked her out big time. Despite Susannah’s best efforts, her sister hadn’t confided anything to her. Courtney placed the paper she’d been reading on the stack to her right. “Do you want a beer?” Susannah didn’t think she could sleep. Too many thoughts were clamoring through her mind. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll join you.” After a cool shower and a half a bottle of beer, Susannah’s frenzied brain had calmed considerably. She leaned her head back against the abrasive material of the wing chair. All the furniture she’d encountered in Amsterdam was covered in fabric that didn’t exactly invite the user to want to linger, but she was too tired to care. Her eyes wandered over to the computer and she briefly considered checking her e-mails. Toby had had difficulty with an order over the weekend. Saucy-lito had received double of everything they’d needed. But she knew he could handle it, and she wasn’t up to facing another problem. Jack had been frequently sending her sweet, short e-mails, many times with the Rockies’ score in them. When you get back, we’ll have to take in a game, he’d written on Sunday when her sister had interrupted her on the computer. She’d not had a chance to respond yet. And with the reality of what had happened with Hagen today, Jack seemed very far away. Yet, in some ways he was scarier and much more real.

112

Renee Knowles

The clink of Courtney’s beer bottle as she picked it up from the wicker and glass end table raised Susannah’s eyes to her. “You have a lot of papers to grade,” Susannah commented, not knowing what else to say. Courtney took a sip of her beer, before turning her attention back on her work. “End of semester stuff.” “End of semester? But it’s the end of June?” “Semesters run differently here. They start later in the year and end about a week from today. Then there is a break for a couple of months until the autumn.” So, that meant that Hagen would be done with classes soon. Would he be going back to Germany for the summer? He’d told her he only had one more semester of graduate courses before his studies were complete. Susannah fished for conversation. “Do you like living in Amsterdam?” Courtney put down her pen and trained her intense green gaze on her. “It’s better than home.” Her voice was small, and Susannah detected a world of pain behind the simple sentence. “Where are you from?” “Ohio. Cleveland, to be exact. And if I were Drew Carey I sure as hell wouldn’t be singing ‘Cleveland Rocks’.” “I take it you won’t be moving back there any time soon?” Courtney harrumphed. “Not even a key to the city and a promise that I’d win the Ohio lottery could get me back to Cleveland.” She propped her small feet onto the coffee table. “Listen, Susannah, I don’t know you very well, and I’ll say up front, forgive me for my bluntness. I’ve got a no bullshit rule, and I try to live by it.” She was quite sassy for such a dainty woman. “The only thing I left behind in the States was a drunken mother who whored around more than a b-rated porn star, and a pig of a boyfriend who used to think I was a punching bag. Coming to Europe helped me regroup. I’m not the spineless priss I was back then. And if a man were to touch me now, I’d haul off and whack him. Probably in the balls.” Susannah swallowed, trying to keep her expression level. So much for casual conversation, she thought. This was way too much information. Yet pity was not one of the emotions

Going Topless

113

Courtney evoked. She couldn’t help but admire the woman’s spunk. “Shocked you speechless, eh?” The professor almost seemed proud. Speechless? Maybe. But Susannah was starting to recognize the universality of pain. Fortunately, healing seemed just as universal. She raised her bottle to Courtney. “To new beginnings.” Courtney raised a brow as a slow smile spread over her elfin face. An understanding passed between them. She picked up her beer and clanked her bottle against Susannah’s. “New beginnings.”

114

Renee Knowles

Chapter 14

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 14. Always stay true to yourself. Never allow anyone to coerce you. A true gentleman will respect your barriers. Remember your value and your worth. Tuesday, 11:00 am Red Light District Matrix vibrating cock rings. Mattie dropped the baby blue box back into the soiled plastic bin as if it had burned her. How the hell had she ended up rummaging through a sex shop in the Red Light District looking at cock rings? Vibrating ones with a multi-speed power adjuster, no less. It wasn’t even noon. If one wasn’t expected to drink before noon, was she supposed to be scanning sex toys? She glanced up to see Chelsie and Tevin laughing over a nude-colored plastic penis with a black leather strap slung around the balls. Chelsie’s goldenbrown braids flapped with her laughter. Of course, this outing had all been Tevin’s idea. Mattie, you haven’t gone to the sex quarter. You can’t visit Amsterdam without a trip to the Red Light District. When she’d been less than convinced, he’d mocked, What, love? Are you some kind of prude? Afraid of what you might see? Yes, actually, she was very afraid. Rumors swirled all over the world about Amsterdam’s famous sex borough. Everything from it being seedy, to it being the best-kept legal prostitution association on the planet.

Going Topless

115

She didn’t have any problem with how others got their kicks. She just didn’t have any real-life experience walking on the wild side. If cock rings could even be considered the wild side. How was she to know? Susannah had told them to count her out. She was probably spending the day with Hagen. But Chelsie had shared Tevin’s enthusiasm for the excursion. She’d invited herself along and said it would take her mind off other things. Mattie figured the blond hunk from the pub last night, the one Chelsie had made out with in the back corner for over half an hour, was supposed to direct her mind from her problems. Evidently Chelsie was still lamenting whomever she’d been drinking over yesterday. Mattie had imagined this trip would bring her and Chelsie closer. They’d been best friends since middle school, but Chelsie had returned from her graduate studies in Amsterdam a different person. And then her dad had died, further complicating things. They’d never regained the confidence they’d shared in their teens and early twenties. Yet instead of becoming better friends on this vacation, Mattie and Chelsie had grown apart the past week. Chelsie rarely let her in on what was going through her quick mind, and Mattie had stopped asking. Adjusting her plain black t-shirt over her jeans, Mattie decided it was time to blow this joint. Walking by a blow-up woman wearing nipple clamps and a metal thong, she made her way over to Tevin and Chelsie. “You guys about ready to go?” she asked. Tevin picked up a purple beaded vibrator. “Bored already? Maybe this will perk you up.” He tickled her side with it and bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. Mattie shifted away from him. “Very funny.” Leaning in, he whispered, “If you’re game, maybe we could try this out later.” Since the incident at his friend’s apartment, Tevin hadn’t flirted with her. But the provocative slant to his eyes told Mattie he was still interested. Perhaps all the vinyl and latex turned him on. She smiled and gave a half-hearted nod. She found these playthings didn’t excite her in the least. Wasn’t sex supposed to be great with the right person without all these gizmos? Or was that a naïve fantasy?

116

Renee Knowles

Plus, she thought, if Tevin were hoping to play with the vibrator, he’d be expecting Mattie to foot the bill for it. And she was becoming a little tired of being his personal ATM. Tevin went to check out the wall of flavored condoms and Mattie couldn’t help but wonder if he was shopping for her or someone else. Chelsie put her arm around Mattie and placed the palm of her hand on Mattie’s jaw, inching it up. It had literally been scraping the floor during this entire escapade. “That’s better,” Chelsie said. “You don’t look quite so in awe now. Haven’t you ever been in a sex shop?” “No, dammit! So, what of it?” Chelsie tightened her lips and shook her head. “Nothing. I’m surprised is all.” “Because so many men have been dying to take me to one?” Chelsie grabbed a huge, thick, red vibrator. The sign above the scary device read, “Devil Dick Vibrators.” The apparatus resembled a large pepper-mill grinder and looked like it would be extremely painful. “Honey,” Chelsie said, in a smooth, confiding voice, “you don’t need a man to bring you to a sex shop. Much of this stuff is just as much fun used alone—or even more so.” Mattie wasn’t so innocent that she hadn’t ever considered buying a vibrator. The nights could be lonely. She knew most women would hardly raise a brow at such a purchase. “Vibrators are very modish, Mattie.” Chelsie turned on the Devil and a shaky, whirling noise emanated from it. A dark, ethnic-looking male clerk with glazed eyes turned toward them at the sound. His head bobbed up and down and a leering smile spread across his oblong face. “Would you turn the damn thing off?” Mattie demanded. Chelsie flicked the switch. “Fine. But vibrators are very fashionable right now. Hell, they’re the new accessory. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the designers were to come out with one to match their autumn handbags.” “What do you know about fashion designers?” Chelsie looked down at her tan, gauzy, tiered shirt, navy spaghetti-

Going Topless

117

strapped top and natural stone beaded necklace. She raised a brow. “Just because I dress…tree-hugger chic doesn’t mean I’ve never read a Vogue.” Mattie smiled despite herself. Tree-hugger chic. Chelsie was a one of a kind. “Uh-huh. Okay, Ms. Chic. Now would you please put down the penis you’re fondling?” She let out a grateful sigh when Chelsie placed the Devil back on the metal shelf. Mattie wouldn’t know a designer handbag from a dime store one, and the upscale vibrator scenario did nothing to make Mattie want to purchase a noisy, whiney, wand of her own. “Listen, Chels, I’m going to wait for you guys outside.” “I’ll come with you, Mat.” “No. It’s fine. You keep browsing, or whatever. I’ll be fine.” Mattie cautiously traipsed out of the small store, careful not to bump into the six-foot tall condom-covered penis cardboard cutout standing by the front door that appeared to be touting safe sex. Back on the street, activity was booming. A group of about twenty-five or so guys dressed in some sort of uniform tops bounded by her, occasionally bumping her arm. One of them held a dark-skinned female plastic doll, while the others jostled and teased the man. Mattie would’ve thought they were a bachelor party if not for the uniforms. Mattie sniffed. The air in this area of the city even smelled sordid. Like the tang she’d expect to find in the backroom of a cheesy nightclub. A tall brunette with long, straight hair sidled up to the store window next to Mattie in an effort to get away from the raucous commotion in the street. “Isn’t this just the coolest?” the woman shouted to her over the thunderous male voices. “Ah, yeah.” Mattie had no clue if the woman meant the group of rowdy animals passing as men, or the Red Light District in general. “It’s the rugby team.” The woman pointed toward the guys who still loitered in the alley, scanning the shops. Mattie remembered the team had been playing on one of the televisions in the pub last night. “I can’t believe what a wild place this is!” the woman continued in an

118

Renee Knowles

American accent. “Man, they even have a Prostitution Information Center. They pass out souvenir t-shirts next to the condoms!” This chick was way too perky for Mattie’s tastes. Perky white-toothed smile, perky voice, and small perky breasts that she mustn’t think needed a bra as the nipples stuck straight out through her thin pink top. “Have you been to the Info Center?” the brunette asked. “Not really my speed.” “Oh.” The perkiness paused for a brief moment. “Well, my name is Tatiana. My friend, Janice, is taking pictures down the street. They said not to take pictures of the girls, but we can photograph everything else. Have to capture this all on film. I mean, I can’t imagine such a thing back in the States.” Mattie made a noncommittal sound. “You are from the U.S., aren’t you?” she asked when Mattie didn’t respond. “Yes. Colorado.” It was probably rude not to introduce herself, but she didn’t want to get too personal. “Oh! Colorado. I went skiing there once. Big mountains, lots of snow. Pretty cool, all in all.” Her large eyes wandered over the street as she continued talking. “I’m from Northern Louisiana. Even Mardi Gras can’t compare with the Red Light District, I’ll tell you. One of the girls we passed in an alley window had on nothing more than a metallic thong and nipple tassels.” Really interesting, Mattie thought. Now would you please take your bubbly ass someplace else? Mattie knew she was being unreasonable, but she wasn’t in the mood for light conversation with a stranger. Part of her wanted to be back in Denver, in her quiet apartment watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns. Buffy would know how to handle a situation like this. Then, Buffy was also a gorgeous, cool, outgoing chick. Chelsie and Tevin came out of the store as the last of the rugby team rounded the corner away from the shop. “What was all that noise?” Chelsie asked. Tatiana piped up. “A huge group of gorgeous sports dudes. How cool is that?”

Going Topless

119

Chelsie glanced at Mattie for an introduction, but Tevin said, “Hallo. I’m Tevin. Nice to meet you.” He shot his hand out for a handshake, and Tatiana grabbed it, exclaiming, “Are you British? I just love a man with an accent!” Tevin’s face lit up and when he pulled away, he smoothed his palms over his red Ralph Lauren polo. “Guilty,” he said in a charmingly—was it suddenly overstated?—accent. “I’m from England.” “How cool!” Tatiana squealed. Is that the only word she knew? “Wait until my friend hears you speak,” the brunette continued. Tevin beamed as he checked out her sprightly nipples, which were now straining against the cotton of her top. Mattie could nearly hear the tension between them sizzle. She had the horrible feeling that the day, which had started out fairly crappy, was only going to get worse. And evidently Chelsie wasn’t going to stick around to aid Mattie with Miss Perky USA, because she kept looking at her watch. “Hey guys, I’m going to take off.” “Take off?” Mattie bellowed. “What do you mean?” She drew out each word. How could Chelsie abandon her in the Red Light District? “Sorry, Mat, but I have a few things to do.” “Like what?” Mattie heard the whine come into her voice, but she’d do anything not to be left to deal with these two on her own. Chelsie whispered, “I really am sorry, but I have somewhere I have to be. Good luck.” And then she took off down the straat and disappeared around the corner. Mattie was sick of all of Chelsie’s secrecy. She’d had enough. And next time she saw her, after she’d wrung her neck for deserting her, she was going to grill her like a bratwurst. Tatiana and Tevin were conversing, heads close together, and they barely noticed Chelsie’s departure. A short, slightly plump, blonde joined them. It was Janice. At least her perkiness seemed to be contained to a reasonable level. “I have a smashing idea,” Tevin said to the group. “Why don’t you girls

120

Renee Knowles

join us? We’re about to check out the women on the main strip.” “Cool!” Tatiana spewed that annoying word again, and then belatedly looked at Janice who nodded. “That would be great.” Mattie’s heart sunk further and further in her chest. In fact, it was probably pressing on her belly, which must be why her stomach felt like it was on fire. “What do you say, Mattie?” Tevin shot her a cursory glance. She was surprised he even remembered she was there. Mattie tried for a nod, but it came out more like a twitch. “Sure. Sounds fun.” Tatiana smiled. “Great! I’m so glad you don’t mind.” Tevin turned to Mattie and gave her a slight pat on the shoulder, the way one would to a pal on the tennis court. “Mattie? Nah. She’s a cool girl.” You’re a very cool girl, Mattie. She remembered Tevin saying that to her the day they went to Vondelpark. At the time it’d seemed like such a compliment. Today, it’d sounded more like a term for platonic friend. The kind in high school you might play Dungeons and Dragons with, but would never want to date. They walked for several blocks, Tatiana and her friend asking questions, and occasionally giggling over a British phrase Tevin would use. After turning down a few more streets, Mattie had well and truly lost her sense of direction. If she wanted to escape and head home, unless she hailed a cab, she’d have a hell of a time doing it now. Tevin stopped at a small convenience store on the corner of a main canal street. “Hey, Mattie. Can you spot me a five for a bottle of water?” Mattie almost automatically pulled the note from her fanny pack, but she stopped. Bullshit. “Sorry, Tevin. Running kind of low at the moment.” Tevin’s eyes grew wide for a second, but then his easy smile returned. “Excuse me,” he said to the girls. “Would either of you be able to spare a couple of euros? I didn’t bring my wallet, and my throat is as dry as a farmer’s field in August.” Didn’t bring his wallet? She doubted he even owned a wallet. Mattie was beginning to see a side of Tevin that made her feel pretty stupid for liking him in the first place. Let alone almost sleeping with him. “Oh, sure!” Tatiana said. “No problem. In fact, I need a few things myself.

Going Topless

121

Why don’t you pick up what you want and add it to my bill.” After the convenience store, Tevin led them to the thick of what he called prostitution alley. Women lined the life-sized windows on the street wearing nothing more than lingerie or a bra and panties. A red light shined down on them, and they winked and smiled provocatively at the sightseers as they passed. The prostitutes came in all shapes and sizes—tall, short, thin, thick, some so beautiful they took your breath away. And some Mattie wasn’t sure were truly women at all. Tatiana and Janice “oohed” and “aahed”, staring unabashedly, and even making fun of the prostitutes and egging them on through the windows. Tevin laughed and joined in the trashing. “These women must lead a very hard life,” Mattie said, offended that they didn’t see them as people. “Come on, Mat.” Tevin emerged from the alley and stood by a potted tree while Janice revved up her digital camera. “These women have it made. They rake in the money. All they have to do is shag some horny tourists, and if they want to call it a day after a few clients, well, who’s to stop them?” “What if they have a guy who’s abusive? Or plain mean?” Mattie protested. “It can’t be fun.” Tevin shook his head. “These girls have eyes like shithouse rats. If they notice any trouble, or if someone causes them any problems, they hit a buzzer, which alerts the police. They’re pretty much as safe as you and me.” “And how safe is that?” Mattie asked. “Very.” He pointed up to the top of a nearby structure. “There are tiny cameras on the buildings. This whole area is under video surveillance. You’re as safe, maybe even more so, than you’d be walking in downtown Denver.” Janice got her camera working, and Tevin told her to be careful about actually filming the prostitutes. It was better, he said, to take pictures of the area and the juiced up tourists. When they’d finished exploring, Tatiana said, “Thanks for showing us around, Tevin. Unfortunately, Janice and I have to take off. We’ve got a train to catch to Brussels.” Disappointment etched Tevin’s face. “Ah, shit. That sucks. Will you be

122

Renee Knowles

heading this way again?” “No. Sorry. But it’s been cool meeting you both.” Although she addressed only Tevin, Mattie noticed. Tatiana did hand them both a card with her email address and asked them to keep in touch. They left and Mattie was alone with Tevin. For the first time since she arrived in Amsterdam, she didn’t want to be. “I guess,” she said to him, beyond caring what he thought, “that you won’t be getting in her knickers.” “What the bloody hell does that mean?” His face turned a spotted red. “Are you jealous?” Mattie didn’t answer right away. Was she jealous? She may have been in the beginning of the day, but now… “Actually, no.” Her stomach had stopped burning and she was just hungry. “But I do need some food. How about we stop for lunch?” The abrupt change of subject threw Tevin, and she could tell he was surprised by her answer. “Ah, sure.” They ate quickly, and mostly in silence. Though Mattie reluctantly picked up the tab for Tevin’s sandwich, she felt no pressure to be funny, pretty, or in any way intriguing to him. If she was going to make such an effort for a man again, he’d better be making some kind of effort for her. And Tevin had done little but flatter her (probably falsely), spend her money (which made her even more stupid), and think about himself (which seemed to be his favorite, and only, occupation). Mattie was lonely. She was sick of being passed over. But she was no longer going to be a spiritless wimp begging for a crumb of attention. They headed back through the maze of streets and alleys that connected the Red Light District. A few minutes later, Tevin stopped abruptly and asked Mattie to sit with him on one of the green metal benches lining the canals. She reluctantly sat. “What’s up?” “I get the feeling you’re pissed at me, Mat.” He had a contrite, slightly pouty expression on his face. “Are you still upset about that girl? You know I wasn’t interested in her.”

Going Topless

123

About as not interested as you are in Courtney, Mattie thought. “Listen, I could care less. I’m not pissed at you, Tevin. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to pretend there will be anything romantic between us.” Tevin’s face tightened, causing lines to etch on his brow. “Mattie, I don’t know what you mean. I thought there was something between us. I thought I’d made that obvious.” I’m good enough until something better comes along. “Look, I like you, Mat.” He grabbed her hand and held it between them. “I’d like to be with you. I thought maybe this afternoon we might go back to my mate’s flat and finish what we started the other day.” For a moment, Mattie faltered. What if he really liked her and she was being sensitive about Tatiana? What if she was blowing a good chance? Then, he added, “Or, if you’re up for it, we could experiment with something a little more wild.” “More wild?” “Absobloodylutely. You’re in Amsterdam. A smorgasbord of erotic pleasures. You can do anything you want.” Anything she wanted? “What are you talking about?” “I’m talking about the women in the windows. I saw how you stared at them. Some of them were smoking hot.” He adjusted the waist of his pants as if the thought of them gave him an erection. “If you want, we can always check out one of their rooms. Most of them wouldn’t be against having a threesome.” He stared expectantly. “Want to give it a go?” Mattie thought she was going to vomit. This is what he thought of her? She yanked her hand away, pulled a twenty-euro bill from her fanny pack, and with a shaky hand tossed it at him. “Go get your kicks, asshole. But leave me out of it.” Mattie jumped up and whirled away, wanting nothing more than to run back to the apartment. But she stopped and turned back, looking directly into his eyes. “By the way, that’s the last bit of money you’ll ever get from me. Consider it a parting gift.” Then she ran to the nearest trolley stop.

124

Renee Knowles

Chapter 15

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 15. Stand out from the crowd. Be fascinating. Be flamboyant. Be memorable. Make sure you’ll stay on his mind long after you’ve left his presence. Tuesday, 12:25 pm Outside Martijn’s Apartment Chelsie tapped her wristwatch with her fingernail, hoping to speed it up. She was thirty-five minutes early for her meeting with Martijn. She’d left Mattie before she really had to, hoping she could catch a trolley and that she wouldn’t get lost. A woman could forget a lot in five years. And though some areas of the city were very familiar to her, she hadn’t stepped foot in Martijn’s neighborhood until last week. Martijn was a firm believer in being on time. Not too early, and never too late. Chelsie didn’t really care about his anal, methodical tendencies at the moment. Yet, she didn’t want to seem too anxious. She paced on the outside walk, careful not to be plowed down by the mass of tourists wandering about. Martijn’s apartment was not on a canal. It was located on a busy shopping street above a storefront selling cameras and electronics. Although inside it was charming and decorated in his contemporary taste, it wasn’t exactly a showpiece. When he’d lived with Johanna, they’d had an expensive flat in a quieter, more elegant area of the city, without the bicyclists and commotion surrounding her now. The anticipation of seeing him was ripping Chelsie’s insides to shreds. She hadn’t eaten properly since she’d noticed Martijn coming out of Westerkerk on Sunday, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the alcohol she’d consumed last night

Going Topless

125

had blazed a hole in her intestines. She leaned her head back against the smooth glass window of the store under Martijn’s apartment and closed her eyes. O-m-m-m. Chelsie tried to softly chant her meditation mantra, while not looking like a complete fool to passersby. She hadn’t practiced yoga since before she’d left for Amsterdam, and her tense shoulders and chaotic mind testified to her negligence. Touching the tip of her middle finger to the tip of her thumb, she drew her hand into a yoga mudra that was supposed to impart patience. Yet the trembles in her stomach only served to remind her of her edginess, and her mind only saw a slow motion film of Martijn and his lover holding hands. Meditation wasn’t going to work for her this afternoon. She opened her eyes and fingered the aquamarine stones of her necklace. Part of her trouble was that she hadn’t yet thought of a plan for today. What was she going to say? What would be her swan song? She still hadn’t a clue. If she raged, accused, or ranted, she was screwed. Martijn would know how much he’d affected her. And her purpose was not to be weak, but to finally be strong and empowered. As she considered whether or not to buzz him, an older gentleman wearing a wool coat even in the mild weather opened the front door of Martijn’s building. Impulsively, Chelsie slid in the gaping door, shooting the stunned old guy a grateful smile. There were five levels to the complex and Martijn’s apartment was on the third. Deciding she’d not walk toward his rooms like a woman on death row, she bounded up the wooden stairs and stopped dead at the top of the landing by his flat. Martijn’s door was open and the woman from Westerkerk was exiting. The golden-haired beauty had her back to Chelsie as she fumbled to retrieve keys from her purse to lock the door. Chelsie stood completely still in the corridor, her breath lodged in her throat. I can leave. Turn around and hightail it out of here. No one would ever know I’d come, and Martijn would never contact me again.

126

Renee Knowles

But the woman spun around and her questioning eyes locked with Chelsie’s. A bolt whipped through her. God, she was gorgeous. “Hello,” Chelsie heard herself say, her voice high and unnatural. “Hallo,” the woman said in some kind of Slavic accent. “Can I help you?” Of course, anyone Martijn would choose to be with would have to be fluent in English. They probably only communicated in English. Chelsie mentally shook herself and finally drew air into her lungs. This was meant to be. She wasn’t much of a follower of astrology, but it must have been written in the cosmos. “Did you need something?” the woman asked again with a note of impatience. She wouldn’t lie for the bastard. Here it goes, Chelsie thought, for better or worse. “I’m here to see Martijn.” A line drew across her delicate brow. “Are you a student?” “A student? Um, no.” “Because if this is about the university, he has an office, and will be happy to see you there.” She jangled her keys in front of her as if they might provide a shield against Chelsie. “No. It’s not university related. It’s…” Chelsie paused. “Quite personal.” The woman’s hand tensed around her keys, and she looked Chelsie over from head to toe as if seeing her for the first time. “I see. Well, I do not think that he will be back from university soon.” Her tone was very dismissive. Chelsie crossed her arms over her chest. “Actually, he will be. He’s expecting my visit.” Her eyes narrowed and she let out a long breath, leaning back against the door. This game was beginning to get fun. It was very entertaining watching Martijn’s lover squirm. “In that case,” the woman said in her perfectly accented English, “come in. And I will make you some tea while we wait for Martijn.” Chelsie couldn’t miss her distinct inflection on the word “we.” Meeting him together? Not at all what Chelsie had planned. Yet she’d be damned if she’d

Going Topless

127

wimp out and walk away now. After the woman unlocked the door, Chelsie followed her in. Wearing wide-leg, taupe silk slacks, she had a long, graceful stride. A walk that reminded Chelsie of Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. In the light of the apartment, the blonde appeared a little older than Chelsie had first thought on the street outside of the church. She was maybe closer to Chelsie’s own age. If not for her wild, wavy mass of hair, her appearance could only be described as delicate. Her presence was anything but. Tight porcelain skin covered high cheekbones, and large hazel eyes scrutinized beneath long, dark lashes. She was aloof, controlled, and completely capable. The antithesis to Chelsie’s emotional volatility. Chelsie’s stomach rolled, but she fought to keep her face clear of sentiment. The woman closed the door tightly, the click sounding as loud to Chelsie as a cell bar in a prison. “I am Nadia.” She pronounced it Nad-ya. “Martijn’s fiancée.” Fiancée? Bile rose in her throat and she tightened her hand into a fist. “I’m Chelsie.” She tilted her chin up and stiffened her spine. “Martijn’s lover.” Nadia didn’t gasp or rail at Chelsie’s pronouncement. She didn’t take her flawless French-manicured fingernails and scratch Chelsie’s eyes out. She simply clenched her jaw and noticeably swallowed, dropping her keys and her purse onto a table by the door. “I…” she said softly, looking away “…was afraid of that.” The pain in Nadia’s voice made Chelsie momentarily regret her insensitive announcement. But then she hadn’t been the one sleeping with two women. She neatly decided since Martijn was at fault, why not let him be the one to suffer? And if there was an innocent bystander hurt along the way, she couldn’t be held responsible. “Please sit,” Nadia said. “I’ll make some tea.” Make some tea? Hadn’t she heard Chelsie? What kind of a woman accepts such a thing so easily? Europeans had a tolerance for affairs, but shouldn’t she try to throw Chelsie out? Something about Nadia’s refined manner made Chelsie dutifully sit on the modern brown leather sofa positioned in front of a high living room window. The couch had a short, straight back and a boxy frame. It was very current, very posh,

128

Renee Knowles

very Martijn. Nadia brought the tea tray over, and Chelsie noticed it was a silver-andcelestial-blue-patterned Wedgwood. Much too feminine for Martijn. In fact, the lace curtains and doilies accenting the living room were too frilly for him as well. How come she’d not noticed the woman’s touches when she’d been here last week? Because she’d been in too much of a hurry to have sex with him. In spite of herself, the thought brought heat to her cheeks. It seemed very crass while facing his fiancée. Nadia poured Chelsie’s tea with a shaky hand, spilling a small amount onto the tray. “I am sorry. I am not usually so clumsy.” She cleaned up the spots and fell onto a leather wing chair, sinking onto it as if her knees couldn’t support her any longer. Chelsie was sipping the strong brew and debating if perhaps she’d made her point, and she should get up and leave, when Nadia said, “You are not the first woman Martijn has been with since we are together.” And she wouldn’t be the last. “Uh-huh.” Nadia clutched her teacup with white knuckles and stared past Chelsie out the oval window. “He has many students at university. Many pretty girls. They like him. Want to be with him.” She trained her hazel eyes back on Chelsie. “It is hard for him to resist, you see.” Shitshitshit. She didn’t want this. This pleading look or defense of Martijn’s indefensible actions. Most of all, Chelsie didn’t want to like Nadia. “I see,” said Chelsie. “How European of you.” “Pardon?” “How European. To accept your fiancé’s lovers. American women are not so tolerant. I would likely string him up by his balls.” “String him up by his balls?” Nadia said with a slight smirk. “Interesting phrase. While you American women might not be tolerant, you seem to think nothing of sleeping with someone else’s man.” Touché. “Do not misunderstand,” Nadia continued. “I do not blame you. Nor the others.”

Going Topless

129

“Why not?? “Because I understand how Martijn can be. He is very suave and convincing. And I am not innocent.” Her lips thinned. “He had a wife when I first met him.” He’d left Johanna for Nadia? “But,” Nadia went on, “I would not sleep with him while he was still married to her. So eventually, when he comprehended my determination to not be with a married man, he left her. Therefore, I have her pain to answer for and a stain on my soul as well.” Nadia’s supposed stain was perhaps a minor inkblot next to Chelsie’s tremendous blotch of wine. Chelsie had known of Johanna, but hadn’t held herself to the same moral standards Nadia obviously did. Or maybe Nadia was only cleverer? After all, he did leave Johanna for her. Perhaps restraint had its rewards. A tug of guilt made Chelsie reveal, “Since you’ve been with Martijn, I’ve only seen him once.” Nadia shook her head. “Please, do not. I do not want details.” “Maybe I should go.” Chelsie placed her teacup on a cherry wood table and started to rise. Nadia covered Chelsie’s wrist with her long, thin fingers. “I think that would be a mistake.” Chelsie narrowed her eyes. “Why?” Nadia released her and leaned back in her chair. “Because to find us here together, do you not think the look on Martijn’s face would be priceless?” Her eyes betrayed a certain camaraderie. Priceless. The word echoed in Chelsie’s mind. But this was life, not a MasterCard commercial. Although, shocking Martijn had been Chelsie’s design exactly. She plopped her ass back onto the sofa. She’d barely sat before the door to the apartment opened. Sweat broke out on her palms as Martijn entered and took in the scene before him. He faltered and the color of his cheeks turned a pasty gray. Well, bloody hell. She’d managed to finally shock the great professor.

130

Renee Knowles

“Hello, Martijn,” Chelsie said, managing to sound calm. “I’ve just been having a very interesting discussion with your fiancée.” Martijn dropped his briefcase onto the oak floor with a loud thud and he shot quick, nervous glances to both Nadia and Chelsie. “Yes. You didn’t tell me you were expecting company today. I would have helped you entertain.” Martijn pulled at the collar of his white shirt as if it was too tight. “Nadia, let me explain.” Desperation laced his voice. Nadia rose from her chair, hands folded in front of her, as composed as a princess at court. “There is no need for your explanations. Chelsie has already clarified everything.” “Chelsie!” he bellowed. “She’s not going to tell you the truth! Did she tell you that she seduced me? She’ll do anything to be with me.” Chelsie shot up from the sofa, her knee knocking the table in front of her. “Martijn, you arrogant jerk. You think way too highly of yourself. I can barely stand to look at you! Did you ever once think to tell me you had a fiancée?” His wild, raging eyes focused on her. “Why the hell should I? It didn’t bother you a whit to screw me when I had a wife. What would make me think you would care about a fiancée?” Nadia’s reproachful gaze seared into Chelsie. Chelsie was too pissed to care. “You self-righteous bastard. You cheat on your wife and your fiancée, and you think you can blame me for all of it! I was a fool, yes. And maybe even a selfish bitch for wanting to have you any way I could, damn the consequences. But you think you’re guilt free?” Her voice shrieked, but she couldn’t stop herself. “How many others were there? A dozen? More? Come on. How many other women have you lied to, cajoled, had sex with until you’d had your fill, and then simply walked away?” Martijn’s chest rose and fell with ragged breath, and his face distorted into an ugly, revolting visage. Nadia visibly shook. She whirled on her expensive heels and darted to the bedroom, closing the door. Martijn followed. “Nadia, don’t listen to her,” he called, coaxing her through the bedroom door. “You know how much I care for you.”

Going Topless

131

“Go away,” Nadia screamed. Chelsie had had enough. She was reaching for her purse when Martijn stalked back into the living room. “You bitch. Are you happy now?” She faced him, the man she’d thought was infallible, and saw nothing but a lying jackass. “Happy? I’m not happy about hurting Nadia. Am I happy that you’ve finally got your due, Martijn? Absolutely.” She advanced on him. “And you’re right. I am a bitch. But a bitch who’ll never again be suckered by a middleaged, cheating prick like you.” And with that she picked up the Wedgwood teapot, tossed the lid, and poured the still-scalding liquid onto his smooth, posh leather sofa.

132

Renee Knowles

Chapter 16

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 16. Don’t over analyze. Take things at face value. Don’t look for problems that may not be there. Men are simple. What you see is what you get. Wednesday, 10:00 am In Front of the Van Gogh Museum Susannah had never been good at drama. Confrontation made her queasy and emotional outbursts caused the hair on her neck to rise up. Chelsie, on the other hand, seemed to get a thrill out of always being in the middle of a crisis. From a problem as small as a bad date, to a genuine heartbreak such as when Dad died, her sister scrutinized and analyzed the calamity until Susannah begged her to let it rest. Yet as she stared at Chelsie standing in line next to her, the tight lines around her mouth and her fair skin pale next to her brown t-shirt and jeans, alarm set in. Whatever crisis Chelsie was going through this time, she wasn’t being a drama queen. She was keeping all her emotions inside. And more than anything else, more than the moody silence, and the strange behavior at the Delftware store on Sunday, Susannah’s fear grew with Chelsie’s reserve. It was time for some serious girl talk. Susannah rolled her neck to work out the kinks. The air was cool, but waiting for twenty-five minutes to enter the Van Gogh museum with children racing around her and a loud, obnoxious man standing in front, she was sweaty and impatient nonetheless. Intervention was a tricky business, she decided. She should know, having

Going Topless

133

been the recipient of one. Susannah caught Mattie’s eye. Mattie briefly glanced at Chelsie and then back to Susannah, giving a faint nod. Susannah and Mattie had formed an unlikely pact this morning while Chelsie had been taking a shower. They’d had enough excuses. Her sister had been a distant shadow of herself for several days. Chelsie snapped at the smallest thing, and her eyes held serious dark circles under them that even Chanel would find hard to correct. There was somebody or some memory in this city, which had shattered her. So Susannah and Mattie had decided that at lunch they would have an intervention of sorts. Convince Chelsie to open up, and maybe find a way to help her. Right now, Chelsie stood next to Susannah doing what could only be described as an odd chicken-like dance. Her ponytail boogied back and forth along with her feet. Susannah shot her a questioning look. “I’ve so got to pee,” Chelsie said. “Then go find somewhere to pee.” “H-e-l-l-o,” Mattie interrupted. “Like where is there to pee in this city if you’re not in a museum or at a restaurant?” “Public restrooms are not high on the Europeans’ list,” Chelsie said. “I think I’m going to try and convince the young ticket guy at the door to let me in to use the restroom.” Chelsie headed toward the entrance, and whether it was her natural good looks or her desperate plea, the ticket taker opened the door for her. “Incredible.” Mattie stood dumbfounded. “The guy just let her walk right in.” “Yeah, well, Chelsie has a way with men,” Susannah said. Mattie crossed her arms over her green Colorado State Rams t-shirt. “You don’t seem to be doing too bad yourself.” “I wonder how much longer we have to wait,” Susannah said to change the subject. “I’d say, at least ten minutes.” Susannah shifted her feet to get comfortable. “Thank God I wore flat shoes.” She glanced down at her brown leather sandals, and a brief memory

134

Renee Knowles

flashed of Hagen taking off her stiletto heels and caressing her legs. Visions of last night, Hagen’s lean naked body, and that delicious twirling thing he did with his tongue, flickered through her mind. She flushed and heat pooled between her legs. “What do you think?” About what? Evidently Mattie had asked a question. You’re not a hormone-induced adolescent. Can you keep your mind off the carnal for a few minutes, please? “What did you say?” Susannah sheepishly asked. Mattie huffed. “I asked if you thought Chelsie was going to be pissed at us for ganging up on her.” “Probably.” “What are we going to do? We can’t force her to open up. We can’t tie her to her chair and use Chinese water torture.” Susannah had been considering all the possibilities. They could try to guilt her sister into confiding in them. They could play on her emotions. She figured the truth was the best approach. “I think we should simply tell her the truth. She’s acting crazy, and we’re worried. It might help if we played up the concern aspect.” “Do you think that’ll be enough?” “I don’t know. But she cared enough to intervene when she thought I needed help. And I did. Now I’m going to return the favor.” Although Susannah wasn’t entirely convinced they could get through to Chelsie. In the past, Chelsie and she had had an easy relationship, sharing laughs, confidences, and gripes. Not every sister could claim to be friends with her sibling, but Susannah had always been glad for their bond. Since Stephen’s death Susannah had drawn away, keeping much of her pain inside, and now, it appeared Chelsie was following suit. By the time Chelsie came back from the restroom, Susannah and Mattie had finally made it to the front of the line and had bought their tickets. The Van Gogh Museum consisted of two buildings, a main structure and an exhibition wing. While Susannah wasn’t particularly interested in his work as an artist—she could only handle impressionism in small doses—she imagined

Going Topless

135

Van Gogh’s life to be fascinating. Travel, studying under accomplished painters, the unique way he envisioned his subjects. There was the little mental illness thing, but how can you hold that against him? But Susannah hadn’t predicted the museum itself would be so striking. A large glass wall surrounded the entranceway, where the open space and tiled floors reverberated with the sounds of excited tourists and serious art students. The structure had a modern-day feel, with a touch of the humanism of the hippieera seventies. “The Dutch call it Gesamtkunstwerk,” Chelsie said. “Architecturally, the building has been designed and re-designed over a period of many decades. Yet the different parts contrast and complement one another flawlessly.” “I’m impressed,” Susannah told her sister as they made their way to an exhibit showcasing the timeline of Van Gogh’s life. “I guess I didn’t waste all of my schooling here in Amsterdam.” Chelsie’s mouth turned up in a faint smile. Yay! She hadn’t seen much of Chelsie’s smile lately. “I think this guy was just creepy.” Mattie was reading a history of the famous artist. “He was in and out of an asylum.” “Yes,” Susannah agreed. “But it says he produced one hundred and fifty paintings during his hospital stay. What determination.” Mattie simply rolled her eyes. As they wandered through the permanent collection, Susannah found new respect for Van Gogh’s work. Although it was darker than she usually enjoyed, his paintings did evoke emotion and even a disturbing eeriness. “My God.” Mattie came to one particularly morbid canvas. “This is a skeleton smoking a cigarette!” “I guess he just couldn’t quit,” Chelsie quipped. “Carried his habit into the afterlife.” Mattie held up her hands. “Well, I’ve had enough art appreciation for one day. I’ll wait for you guys in the cafeteria.” Susannah and Chelsie looked through the galleries for another forty minutes, feeling only a little guilty about making Mattie wait. Mattie had been the one going on about culture this morning.

136

Renee Knowles

They decided to eat lunch at the nearby Museumplein at a trendy retrostyle café. Throughout the meal Susannah couldn’t help but notice how quiet Chelsie was and how little she ate. “Chelsie,” Susannah said, “your salad isn’t any good?” “It’s fine.” “You haven’t eaten much of it.” “I’m not very hungry.” Susannah and Mattie locked eyes. It was now or never. “Chelsie, we need to talk to you,” Mattie said. Chelsie put down the glass of mineral water she was drinking and shot Susannah and Mattie a suspicious look. “What’s the problem?” “Well, hon,” Susannah started, “you haven’t been yourself lately.” “I don’t think that’s a crime.” Mattie leaned toward Chelsie. “Chels, you left me in the Red Light District, because you had ‘things to do’. Seriously, what’s up with that?” Susannah shot Mattie a glance. She knew how easily Chelsie could go on the defensive. “I have a freaking right to my own life, don’t I?” Chelsie barked. “Yes,” Susannah quickly said. “But we’re worried about you. We want to be sure you’re okay.” “I’m fine, Suz. But I don’t want to answer any questions. I’ve had enough of this.” She started to stand, but Susannah reached for her. “Hey, I heard you out when you and Toby tag-teamed me. All we’re asking is for the same consideration.” Chelsie’s jaw tightened. “You hardly listened willingly.” “Maybe not. Yet I’m here, aren’t I?” Chelsie leaned back in her seat, sighed, and scrubbed a hand over her ponytail. “All right. You guys want the run down. I’ll give it to you. I met a guy when I was living here five years ago. I fell for him. He was a creep. Big time. I didn’t realize just how much of one until I came back and saw him again. Now, I want to forget the lying scum and move on with my life.” She crossed her arms

Going Topless

137

over her chest and looked from Susannah to Mattie. “End of story.” So this was about a guy. Susannah’s mind swiftly tried to review all the men who’d been hanging around on Sunday when Chelsie had literally thrown her back into the Delftware store. Nobody had made an impression on Susannah. Mattie’s forehead wrinkled. “You’ve been with a lot of guys. What’s the deal with this one?” “You know what,” Chelsie said. “I’m outta here. I know you guys are worried, and I appreciate it. I really do. But this is something I need to work out for myself.” Pushing her chair back, she jumped up. “I’m going to take a walk. See you back at the apartment later.” Susannah watched her go, her long ponytail swaying with her stride like it used to when she was a little girl. A long sigh escaped her. This may be the one time she wasn’t going to be able to help her baby sister. **** Chelsie was still on Susannah’s mind that night while she was eating dinner with Hagen. Although her thoughts were beginning to turn to food, with the delicious spicy aromas surrounding her. The quaint, old world charm of the canal-houseturned-Italian-restaurant Hagen had taken her to was characterized by rich paneling and exposed wood beams. “Liebling,” Hagen said, reaching for her hand across the red and white checked tablecloth, “you seem worried. Are you all right?” Liebling. Susannah had learned it meant darling in German. Warmth gathered in her belly. She had to remember this was a temporary relationship. Yet, even after such a short time, Hagen could already sense her moods. He squeezed her hand, bringing an immediate sense of comfort. The sleeves of his white twill shirt were rolled up, exposing his lightly tanned skin. God, how she loved his muscular, long forearms. And those fingers of his! They knew just how to stroke her. Susannah cleared her throat, trying to remember his original question. “I’m okay.” Getting into a discussion about Chelsie tonight probably wasn’t a

138

Renee Knowles

good idea. “I—” “Hagen!” A short, balding man hopped up to their table and slapped Hagen on his back. “You stay away too long. But I forgive, because now you bring such a bella signora into our restaurant.” The plump man wiggled his eyebrows at Susannah. Hagen laughed. “Signor DeMola! You best watch yourself, or I will be forced to tell Signora DeMola about your flirting.” Signor DeMola shook his head and ran a hand over his mustached face. “You would not do that to me. If she knew I look at a beautiful woman, Signora might put me in the pizza oven.” He winked at Susannah and slapped his knee in a hearty laugh. Hagen introduced her, and she discovered Signor DeMola was the owner of the restaurant. She wondered how many other women Hagen had brought here to be on such a familiar basis with the proprietor? The waiter, who’d taken their drink order, came over with the bottle of Tuscan 1999 Podere Poggio Scalette that Hagen had ordered when they’d arrived. Susannah knew a little about wine, mostly about vintages produced in the Napa region, but she was surprised Hagen appeared to have studied up on the subject. “Marchello,” Signor DeMola said to their server, “you take care of them, si? Give them whatever they want.” He held his pudgy hand out to Hagen and then hopped back to the kitchen. After their server had taken their orders and left, Susannah held up her glass, swirling the garnet-and-amethyst-colored liquid. Ripe, pungent, woodsy aromas filled her nose. “What shall we toast?” Hagen flashed a seductive smile, his brown eyes deepening and slowly sweeping over her. Her skin tingled. “How about the amazing nights we have shared.” Her body heat rose with his provocative voice, and she peeled her blue silk tank away from her chest. She took a sip of wine, black cherry, vanilla, and cedar flavors exploding in her mouth. Yummy. Smooth. Delicious. A lot like Hagen. “How did you learn how to pick such an amazing wine?” Pink spots appeared on his cheeks in the soft candlelight. “I am glad you like it.” He raised his shoulders. “My mother loves wine and serves it often. In

Going Topless

139

Germany, beer is provided with most meals. But my mother says wine is the drink of the world. I grew to appreciate it. And when I was twenty, I went with a friend to Tuscany and explored many, um...Weinkellereien.” Sometimes Hagen would add a German word if he wasn’t sure of the English, and Susannah was left wondering. “Wineries?” She took a wild stab at translating. “Wineries?” he asked. “Yes. Well, we stayed for a few weeks in Italy, driving through the countryside and the coast and trying different varieties. There I first had this wine. It made my mouth water.” He leaned in and whispered, “Like you, Liebling.” Damn. A sexy English-speaking German national, studying for a master’s in Amsterdam, who knew politics and fine wine, as well as how to make a woman moan with his tongue. Who said the modern Renaissance man was dead? A knot formed in her belly and spread until she couldn’t take another sip. She plunked her glass onto the table. She had to watch herself. It would be so easy to fall for Hagen. Susannah had never had an affair like this, and the rules weren’t clear to her. How do you stop your heart from feeling? “So,” Susannah said, as she sat back in the wooden chair, “you went with a friend to Tuscany?” The faint blush she’d seen on Hagen’s face earlier came back with a vengeance. “Um, yes.” He suddenly seemed inordinately interested in the warm bread the server had brought out with the wine. Now this was interesting. “A female friend?” His eyes skidded away. “Yes.” Well, wasn’t he being coy? “You don’t have to be shy around me, Hagen. It isn’t as if I expected to be the only woman you’d ever been with.” Then he never would’ve learned that tongue move. But Susannah paused, an idea forming in her mind. “This friend, she was someone important to you?” He dropped the piece of bread he was holding onto a plate, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Susannah, it is not a subject I am willing to discuss.” Susannah reared back as if she’d been smacked. It wasn’t so much his words, as they way he’d said them. As if she wasn’t important enough to share

140

Renee Knowles

those kinds of details with. “Fine.” She took another slow drink of wine, which suddenly tasted tart. “I understand. We’re just sleeping together. Wouldn’t want to get too personal.” Wasn’t she the one who didn’t like drama? Perhaps it was growing on her. “Susannah, don’t be like this.” “Like what?” “Pissed off.” “I’m not pissed, Hagen.” She wasn’t. Maybe hurt. There was that tricky fine line again. How much did she really deserve to know about Hagen’s past? Their food arrived and uncomfortable silence punctuated their meal. Susannah’s tortellini panna e prosciuto (cream sauce and salt-cured ham) was so scrumptious it nearly made her shiver. Who knew she would have the best Italian food in her life in Amsterdam? Though they made small talk as they ate, Hagen had distanced himself in some small but vital way. Waiting for the check to arrive, Susannah’s awkwardness reached a new level. She wanted to pay. After all, Hagen was still in college and she ran a successful business. He’d questioned her about Saucy-lito last night, and he’d seemed very impressed with her success. And, she thought, the ‘99 Podere Poggio Scalette had to be expensive. But what were the European customs? Would it offend him if she offered to cover the check? In the end, no bill ever came. Hagen threw some euros onto the table for a tip and got up to leave. Susannah scrunched her face. “Ah, what about the check?” “It is taken care of.” Walking down the street, Susannah still wondered about the meal. “So, you paid Signor DeMola in advance?” Hagen smiled and took her hand. The small touch reassured her all wasn’t lost. “We have an agreement, Signor DeMola and I. He is not good with the books, so, I help him with his accounting, and I eat at his restaurant when I choose.” He smiled. “We trade.” Oh! Well, that made sense. As they strolled, they passed the window of an antique shop filled with gorgeous, ornate jewelry. Still looking for a worthy and distinctive souvenir, Susannah stopped to

Going Topless

141

browse. Displayed in the middle of the case was a dazzling Art Deco sterling silver and marcasite locket. The date in front said circa 1920. The chain was delicate with what appeared to be small enameled disks all around it. It was one of those moments. A shiver raced up her spine. The necklace spoke to her. And a gentle shopping euphoria set in. “Do you like something?” Hagen placed his hand on the small of her back and bent forward to peer into the window with her. Susannah debated. A locket wasn’t the kind of present a woman bought herself. Her father had given her mother a cameo locket with a picture of the family inside when Susannah was still in middle school. A sharp ache formed in her chest. With no children and no husband, she certainly didn’t have a family photo to place in one. Who knew if she ever would? “No,” she said. “The locket, it’s pretty, but… Let’s go.” Hagen glanced from the store window to her, and then he led her down the narrow street. She was quiet and Hagen sent concerned glances her way. “When I work for Signor DeMola,” he said a few minutes later. “I teach him what little I know of Dutch. He moved to Amsterdam knowing only Italian and English.” A light came into his dark eyes. “And he has taught me some Italian. Like: Posso baciarti?” His mischievous grin was back. “I’ll bite. What does it mean?” He tugged her hand and brought her down a side alley. “It means, may I kiss you?” Then he wrapped his long arms around her and proceeded to kiss her senseless. Oh, yeah. His brief sullenness was gone. The Hagen she adored was back.

142

Renee Knowles

Chapter 17

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 17. Always take time for yourself. Allow yourself some “me” time. You can’t be an ideal romantic partner if you don’t know who you are. Indulge in a champagne bubble bath or a night out with the girls. It will pay off in the end. Thursday, 9:00 am Courtney’s Apartment Chelsie exhaled and pushed her hips up into the Downward Facing Dog position. Keeping her arms straight, she pressed her heels into the floor. Her spine popped and stretched, nearly breathing its own sigh of relief. Yoga was all about balancing your body and your mind. Her instructor often scolded her for having perfect form but no mental concentration. Had her spirit ever really been in balance? She doubted it. She finished her practice with a few forward bends and then jumped into a hot shower. The apartment was wonderfully quiet this morning. Susannah was out with Hagen, Tevin had an actual job interview, and in a startling move Mattie and Courtney had decided to go to the Singel Flower Market together. Allowing the searing, steamy water to flow over her and clear out her pores, Chelsie took stock of her situation. After her confrontation with Martijn, she’d woken up the next morning with her brain as boggled as ever. She’d been sure there would be a great weight lifted off her. But all that crap in self-help books about freedom and taking back your life was obviously just a pile of B.S. put out there to sell hardbacks. Because there was no emancipation, no moment of enlightenment. There

Going Topless

143

was only a deep hollowness, and an intense dissatisfaction. As if she’d had an entire night of passionate, mind-blowing sex and no orgasm. Kind of cuts you to your core and leaves you squirming with need. And the intervention her sister and Mattie had staged yesterday had only strained her relationship with them more. She understood they cared for her, and without getting all warm and fuzzy, it felt kind of good. It only made her long to confide in Susannah and cry on her shoulder as she’d done as a child. Yet this time, it wasn’t possible. How would Susannah react if she learned the whole truth about Martijn and her pregnancy? Chelsie shuddered. Not a chance she was willing to take. Turning off the faucet, Chelsie thought back to all the unwanted advice she’d given over the years, right down to coercing Susannah into this trip and pushing her toward an affair with Hagen. Maybe all the answers she’d thought she’d had, all the guidance she’d spouted, was just the product of a quick wit and too many “have sex like a man” and “take back your sexual power” articles in women’s magazines. She didn’t regret her sexual experiences. But all the sex in the world had still left her lonely. After she dried her body off, she stared at her reflection in the cloudy bathroom mirror. What had she said to Susannah to convince her to come on this trip? She’d told her how shitty she’d looked. Well, Chelsie could hardly say any better of herself today. In fact, Susannah glowed now, while Chelsie’s skin grew paler every day. Maybe sex was a healing tool for some people. Chelsie put on a pair of faded jeans and a buttery yellow bohemian top. It was obvious she didn’t have all the answers. She was pretty sure she knew who did. Forty-five minutes later, standing in the hallway carrying a bright orange bouquet of chrysanthemums, Chelsie fidgeted, as nervous as a teenage girl waiting for her first date. She knocked on the entrance under the tarnished brass “four.” “Come in,” Mrs. van Emmerik called. Chelsie opened the door, and there sat the old woman in the same gray housedress she’d worn when she and Courtney had visited last week.

144

Renee Knowles

“Misser Joyner! I was so surprised when you called up on the box.” Mrs. van Emmerik pointed to the intercom. “Please, come in. Come in.” “I was near your building and thought you might enjoy these flowers.” Mrs. van Emmerik thanked her profusely for the bouquet and asked after Courtney. Chelsie explained that Courtney was running errands, and she placed the blooms in the same vase her friend had used for hers. Then she sat in the wobbly chair she’d been in on her last visit. “This weather!” Mrs. van Emmerik exclaimed, fanning herself with a lace handkerchief. “One never knows if it will be hot enough to boil water, or so cold you need a sweater.” Chelsie laughed and commented on the heat. The weather seemed to be a very universal topic. And since she was at a bit of a loss as to what to say now that she was here, she was glad for the small talk. She relaxed back, her eyes straying to the picture of Mrs. van Emmerik and her husband. Other than that photo, there were no pictures in the home. “Did you ever have any children, Mrs. Van Emmerik?” Mrs. van Emmerik’s face clouded. “My Frans and I, we did have a child. A son, Frances.” Her voice grew soft. “He died when he was still a young boy. Fever, you see.” Oh, Lord. Why had she asked that? Even though Chelsie had lost her baby early on, and wasn’t even sure she’d wanted it at the time, she understood something of the pain. Mrs. van Emmerik continued, “Do not fret, Misser Joyner. It was a long time ago. Yes, I still feel grief. But,” a feeble smile swept over her wrinkled face, “children are supposed to bring you pain. And much joy too.” “What about husbands?” Chelsie teased, trying to lighten the mood she’d created. The other woman’s eyes brightened. “Ack! Husbands should most definitely bring more joy than pain. Only first they must be taught.” “Taught? How do you know if one can be taught?” Mrs. van Emmerik folded her hands thoughtfully. “He will let you know. Observe him well. Some men are like blank pieces of paper, life has not yet written on them. They know little and are too unripe. Some men have so much

Going Topless

145

writing on them there is no room for you to add your own name.” Her eyes twinkled. “But some men have only a few words, a few sentences scribbled on them. Enough knowledge to be interesting, but leaving a lot of space for you to fill in the blanks.” Chelsie had been right. Mrs. van Emmerik was a veritable fount of information. How come she could never sit back and talk with her mother like this? Because Mom never really listens to me. When Chelsie struck up a conversation, her mom would inevitably be heading out to a cowboy club with her new boyfriend or wanting to talk about Susannah. The white-haired woman scrutinized Chelsie. “I sense you are unhappy, Misser Joyner. What kind of man did you run into?” “Oh, definitely the kind with way too much writing on him.” Hell, War and Peace had nothing on Martijn and his shaded past. “Ah. At least you discovered his faults before you married him. Now, you can find the right one.” The right one? That sounded very Hallmark. And it was hard to look for a lifelong mate when you never went on more than one date with a man. “Life’s lessons cannot be learned until you allow yourself to experience them,” Mrs. van Emmerik said, breaking into her thoughts. Had she read Chelsie’s mind? That was her problem exactly. Was she ready to face being hurt again? “I’m not sure I can bring myself to open up again.” Mrs. van Emmerik nodded. “You will. It is the way of the world. All living things heal. All things can be made new again.” Chelsie thanked her for her advice. And after a few more minutes of light conversation, she left Mrs. van Emmerik’s apartment with the old woman’s address in hand, promising she’d write when she returned home. She started to head back toward the apartment, but made a quick u-turn toward the bakery. Old habits died hard, and it seemed like the best way to cure a painful heart was to find someone to make her forget. Tugging her blouse down so a bit of cleavage showed, she walked in and scanned the counter for the sexy French baker. He was waiting on a crotchety middle-aged man who seemed to be complaining about something by the way his

146

Renee Knowles

hands flew as he spoke. Even though the man went on, the French clerk noticed Chelsie right away. He winked and held up his hand asking her to wait for a minute. A little pompous. Maybe she just wanted a chocolate muffin. How would he know? Of course, he looked more scrumptious than said muffin, but still… The angry man stalked out a few seconds later, whipping by Chelsie and swearing in Dutch. “Schok,” he mumbled as he slammed out the door. Chelsie was pretty sure that meant jerk. “Maybe I should come back later,” Chelsie said when the clerk finally came over to her. “No! No, mademoiselle! I finally have you here.” He pulled his apron off and whipped around the counter. “Come.” He motioned for her to join him outside. Out in the sunshine, she noticed the depth of his eyes again. She’d been right about them being as dark as Richard’s, but now that she stared closely, she noticed they lacked the warmth Richard’s had. “My name is Jean-marc.” He drew a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his old work jeans, and tilted it toward her. She waved him off. “I’m Chelsie.” Jean-marc. How very French. He blew out a puff of smoke, some of it ending up in Chelsie’s face. She coughed. She’d like to say the smoking made him appear sexier, but in reality it just reeked. “I am sorry, about before. That man! He is an idiot!” Jean-marc drew out i-d-i-o-t and began pacing on the sidewalk. “Did he get the wrong order?” Chelsie asked, curious as to what could upset someone so much in a bakery. “Non. He is upset because he thinks I flirt with his daughter when they come in to buy breakfast this morning.” Chelsie smiled. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” Jean-marc sidled up and leaned his hand on the wall next to Chelsie. “I like beautiful girls.” Moving even closer, he took another puff and then tossed his cigarette onto the cobblestone. “What is so wrong?” He sounded so sure of

Going Topless

147

himself. Another player. Like Martijn and so many others she’d met before. She thought of Mrs. van Emmerik’s advice. This man had unquestionably been written on by piles of women. “So, you have come to finally plan a dinner with me?” His voice turned hopeful. “Um…” She had. But could she keep sleeping with these playboys? Was repeating the mistakes of the past going to help her move on? A wolfish grin lit his face as he waited for her answer. He was already sure she was another notch on his bedpost. “Actually,” she said. “I came to the bakery to buy some chocolate muffins.” His eyes widened. “Chocolate muffins?” His accent suddenly sounded whiney instead of sexy. “Yes,” Chelsie continued, trying to sound serious in the face of his incredulity. “They’re very good with a cup of espresso.” Then she went back into the shop and bought half a dozen of the plump muffins, but Jean-marc didn’t follow her back in. When she left the bakery, he was hitting on a petite Asian woman, who was standing by a postbox. Chelsie waved and pulled off a piece of muffin, letting the chocolate chips melt in her mouth. There was a little skip in her step. Maybe there was something to this enlightenment thing after all.

148

Renee Knowles

Chapter 18

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 18. Always be ready. You never know when you’ll meet Mr. Right. Be open to the possibilities. You owe it to yourself. Thursday, 11:30 am Singel Flower Market “You think I hate you, don’t you?” Courtney asked casually. Mattie stopped, hand frozen midway to picking up a bag of tulip bulbs. “I…guess so.” Crapola. Courtney was a little too blunt. Courtney leaned against the pegboard where the flower bulbs were hung and narrowed her eyes. “Well, you’re right.” What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn’t wait for this morning to be over. “At least,” Courtney went on, “I wasn’t too thrilled with you at first.” Her shoulders inched up. “I guess your relationship with Tevin ticked me off, and I thought you kind of gloated about it.” “Gloated?” There was nothing to gloat about. Anxious to get away from this conversation, Mattie grabbed her white tulip bulbs and went to the check out. Courtney followed. “Yeah. Then I realized it was kind of idiotic for me to be mad. It’s not like Tev and I are still together. And the truth is, I don’t even want to be with him anymore.”

Going Topless

149

“Then why did you act so weird about it?” She raised one earring-clad eyebrow. “Territorial, I guess. And in my defense, you weren’t all that friendly with me either.” Mattie conceded with a nod as she handed the clerk some euros. “Well, I’m not interested in Tevin anymore. No offense, but I think he’s sort of a jerk.” Courtney laughed. It had a light, delicate ring. “You might be right there. But he grows on you.” “Like slimy moss?” Mattie blurted out. Courtney let out a huge screech this time and laughed until she had tears in her eyes. “Mattie, that was marvelous. There might be hope for you yet.” What the hell did she mean? Mattie kept quiet, not wanting to rock the boat anymore. They walked out of the stall and into a booth housing dozens of mixed blooms. The Bloemenmarkt went on for a block and sold plants, seeds, flowers, bulbs and gardening supplies. Mattie had a small garden outside the townhouse she rented and it was usually bare—like her life. Something she was determined to change. When they’d scoured the entire block of flower stands, Courtney said, “Do you want to grab some lunch? I know a place around here where they make great poffertjes.” “Poff-er-tees?” “Basically mini pancakes, but they’re a Dutch specialty.” “Cool.” Lunch with Courtney? This day was getting odder and odder. She’d been completely freaked out when Courtney suggested an outing this morning. Of course, Mattie was sure Courtney had been planning on Chelsie going too, but Chelsie decided to be on her own again today. Yesterday’s intervention had been a waste of time. The restaurant they went to was small and old. They chose to sit outside at the tables in the middle of the street and in sight of the Flower Market. Mattie hadn’t had much Dutch food since she’d arrived. As far as eateries went, Amsterdam appeared to rely more on its multi-culturalism than its Dutch roots. After a lunch of uitsmijter, three fried eggs with ham, and poffertjes,

150

Renee Knowles

which turned out to be amazingly good pancakes sprinkled with powdered sugar, Mattie was stuffed. She rubbed her stomach and hoped it didn’t stick out too much in her jeans. “Why is it,” she asked Courtney, “I feel like I just ate breakfast instead of lunch?” Courtney nodded her head. “I know, meat, cheese and bread for breakfast, and pancakes for lunch, has always seemed a bit backwards to me. I suppose, it actually makes sense. The breakfast over here tends to give you more protein and energy.” Courtney was thin, slender, and remarkably pretty. Like many of the Europeans, she tended to eat a healthy, well-balanced diet. Not the fatty fast food Mattie picked up on her way home from work. Anything to avoid having to cook. But maybe there was another way. She enjoyed eating fresh produce from the market and preparing certain foods. Maybe she should get her ass in gear and get on a better plan. After the waiter had taken their plates, Courtney placed her arms on the table and examined Mattie. “What?” Mattie asked impatiently after a few minutes. “You are a lot different than I thought. Much cooler.” A faint flush came over Mattie at the praise. “You’re different too. More open. And nicer.” Mattie meant it. In many ways, Courtney was exactly who Mattie wanted to be. Pretty. Interesting. Frank. And she could care less about what people thought of her. “And you have your own sense of style.” Courtney smiled. “Developing your own style is easy. Figuring out what that style is, is much harder.” Mattie considered her comment. “I have no clue what my style is. I don’t even have one. Unless you count boring hair and baggy tees as a style.” A gleam grew in Courtney’s eyes until they nearly sparkled. “That’s it!” she shouted, causing a couple at a nearby table to scowl. Uh, oh. “What’s it?” Mattie had an awful feeling. Courtney clapped her hands together. “I have a great idea! Just great. I mean, he would have to be working, and you would have to say yes. But you will! I know it.” “Ah, Courtney, can you cut to the chase?” Her bad feeling was starting to

Going Topless

151

cause indigestion. “Why don’t we get you a tattoo?” “WHAT?” “A tattoo, Mattie. Just think, the possibilities are endless! You could start to claim the style you want for your future.” Fear swallowed her. She so hated needles. “No way. I want my ‘style’ to be a little less painful. Like maybe, shopping for sexy shoes, or buying a new coat.” “Mattie, come on. It could be the beginning of a whole new you. And my tattoo artist is the best. Not only did he do this one,” she pointed to the purple star on her neck, “but he did this as well.” Courtney pulled the waistband of her jeans down and showed off the circle of interconnecting roses next to her hip. “And the artist is really hot as well.” “Great. So some hottie can see me faint.” “Faint?” “I hate needles! I haven’t even had a checkup in years because I’m so scared of them.” Courtney stood and grabbed Mattie’s arm, pulling her up. “Then it’s time to break you of your fear. Let’s go.” Shit! It didn’t look like she was getting a choice. Suddenly, she’d become Courtney’s protégé, and she wasn’t sure how to make the fanatical bald woman hate her again. **** “I’m almost done,” Lance, the American tattoo guy, said. Led Zeppelin’s Dazed and Confused played in the background through the artist’s computer speakers. Mattie opened her eyes for the first time in this whole, excruciating process. On a table in front of her sat an airbrushed t-shirt sporting a very demonized picture of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She tried to focus on it as Courtney’s artist friend continued poking her with a needle.

152

Renee Knowles

“I love Buffy,” she said to make conversation. “Yeah. She’s hot.” Well, Buffy didn’t look particularly hot staring back at her from the knit shirt with yellow demon eyes. “I don’t get to see the show much over here.” Lance’s waist-length black hair flowed over his working arm and grazed Mattie’s skin. A shiver snaked down her back. “You all right?” “Ah, yeah.” “Try to hold still. Okay?” “Sure.” She was severely distracted by this guy’s overwhelming sexuality. Think practically, not sexually, Mattie. Sure, his hair was silky and shiny enough to make J-Lo jealous, but was it sanitary to have it so close to where he was jabbing her? Didn’t people catch diseases from getting tattoos? His place seemed pretty clean, and he used new needles and all, but who knew? It was a little too late now. “Okay,” he said, standing and stretching his back. “That’s it.” Mattie straightened and glanced around. The walls of Lance’s studio were still black and the sexy guy who’d been dipping a needle into her skin still had wide, melt-in-your-mouth lips and shoulders to die for, but Mattie suddenly felt different. Oh yeah. She’d gotten a tattoo. On her boob! The top of her boob anyway. “So, what do you think?” Lance’s soft voice held a nervous expectation. She imagined he was about thirty, but he had such a boyish quality about him. He certainly thought himself an “artist.” And he’d had a serious, half-hour consultation with Mattie before he’d started working. Mattie walked over to the round, speckled wall mirror and checked out the new her. On the top part of her left breast she’d had Lance draw what he called the “indigo sole.” It was a circle, filled in with a shocking cobalt blue—and that hurt like the devil—with black rays flowing out and a black spirally diagram in the middle. Courtney had helped her pick out the design, and then Mattie had sent

Going Topless

153

her away for a little while. She knew she’d never be able to go through with taking off her shirt and pulling down her bra in front of this cute guy if Courtney was making brash comments. She almost didn’t go through with it anyway. Lance had come to the rescue, giving her a shot (or four or five—who’s counting?) of vodka, and it was amazing the courage she’d had after they kicked in. “So, do you like it?” Lance’s clear blue eyes filled with hope. “I tried to create a mood of sensuality with the inside design.” “I love it,” she breathed. And she did. It reflected a new Mattie. “The color is so vibrant, and the design is uber-cool. But I’m not sure sensuality fits my personality.” “You’re very wrong about that, Mattie.” He ran his gaze over her. “You’re very sexy. In fact, it was hard to concentrate on working while I was so close to those huge, sexy tits of yours.” Oh my God! Had he really said what she’d thought he’d just said? When she raised her eyes to his, she saw his face filled with lust. Of course, the four shots he’d had might have something to do with his distorted view of her. But who cared? Mattie swallowed. “Ah, thanks.” She’d barely got the words out before he wrapped his arms around her and his glorious mouth was on hers. There was no fear, no panic attack this time. She kissed him back with all the pent up lust of her twenty-nine years. His tongue melded with hers, smooth and sexy. Somewhere along the line, she remembered she was already half-naked, wearing only a simple white lace bra on top. And she wanted it off. She pulled away. “Take it off.” “What?” “Take off my fucking bra.” Lance sent her a sly grin and moved his arms around her back, unhooking the lace beast. His eyes grew unbelievably round. “Damn, woman. You are glorious!” He sucked and licked her nipples, sending prickles racing down between her thighs. Mattie moaned. Her tattoo hurt like hell, but she ignored it. Passion took

154

Renee Knowles

over as he pressed her up to a black-painted wall, and pushed his erection against her. Oh, my. Either that was a large paintbrush in his pocket, or he was massive. Lance didn’t stop kissing her. His mouth felt as sexy as it looked, moving over hers fast, furious, insistent. Her breath sped up. Pulse hammered. “God, Mattie, I want you so bad,” Lance whispered when they came up for air. Moist heat collected in her panties. She pushed her pussy against his cock. “I want you, too.” Lance smiled, throwing the design books on his artist’s table to the floor. He picked Mattie up and laid her on the counter. He kissed her, his hand cupping her breast, as the Led Zeppelin track changed to I Can’t Quit You Baby. The bluesy music pulsed as Lance shifted his hand down her stomach and in between her thighs. She drew in a deep breath between her gritted teeth. Suddenly Mattie stilled. “What?” His breath drummed fast. “Courtney,” Mattie simply said. She was due back at any moment. But Lance wasn’t deterred. “No problem.” He got up, his hard-on proudly jutting through his tight black jeans, and locked the two deadbolts on the door.

Going Topless

155

Chapter 19

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 19. Always be honest. Fibbing will only get you into trouble. And not the fun kind of trouble either. Friday, 11:00 pm Courtney’s Apartment When life was meandering along smoothly, something was bound to screw it up. Susannah wasn’t one to go looking for problems, but a distinctly uneasy feeling flooded her when things were moving along too well. It was as if she was waiting for the sky to fall or in this case, for something equally as crazy, like her sister to announce she was becoming a nun or something. She sat at Courtney’s computer and switched it on. As the computer started to hum, she realized she hadn’t always been so cynical. In fact, she used to firmly believe bad things didn’t happen to good people. Until the call had come about Stephen. When the phone rang now, dread tightened her stomach and at times the nauseating scent of tuna casserole filled her nostrils. Tuna casserole! How lame. And disgusting. She’d never cared for tuna, but Stephen had loved it. Once a week, she’d make him the casserole and while he ate, she’d just munch on a simple salad. She’d been baking one when the news had come. Stephen’s accident had been one of those freak occurrences. A tire had blown on his BMW convertible causing it to go careening over the median on I25 and into oncoming traffic. The police had determined he’d been going about

156

Renee Knowles

eighty-five in a seventy-five mile an hour zone. The force of the head-on collision had killed him instantly, and the other driver had suffered serious injuries as well. Funny how your life could alter so dramatically in the space of time it took to turn on a kitchen timer. The thing was, driving didn’t frighten her. She never worried about being in a horrific wreck herself. But the thought of Chelsie or her mom being in an accident always sent a chill up her spine. She couldn’t deal with that kind of pain again. The blue screen in front of Susannah blinked as the computer booted up. When she was able to get online, she scrolled through her e-mails, skipping over her mom’s for the moment and answering a brief note from Toby about some gift baskets due to be delivered on the weekend for one of their best corporate customers. When she’d deleted all her spam, she saw she’d missed one e-mail. Her breath caught. A new note from Jack. How just the sight of [email protected] could cause a skip in her heartbeat was beyond her, especially when she’d just spent the night at Hagen’s apartment. She could still picture the crinkle of Jack’s clear blue eyes, his easy smile, and the hot shape of his delectable behind filling out his blue jeans. A slow smile spread over her face. Her grin fell quickly. Was she becoming too fickle? Or maybe thinking of Jack was a defense against the ache she’d feel when she left Hagen next week? She shook her head to stop psychoanalyzing and opened the e-mail. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: Doghouse Susannah, Haven’t heard from you in a while, and I’ve been contemplating what I might have done to land in the doghouse? ☺ Only kidding. Hope things are going well in Amsterdam. Still wondering if we might be able to get together next week after you return… I’d love to treat you to dinner and a game. (Bikini optional.)

Going Topless

157

Jack His e-mails always made her grin. But he’d nailed the question, hadn’t he? Would she go out with Jack? Start a relationship that might actually lead somewhere? She bit her lip until it hurt. Susannah still wasn’t sure if she could handle a real dating scenario. A relationship where she’d have to deal with meeting families, balancing work and home, and him leaving the toilet seat up. “Crap,” she said aloud. Even Hagen left the toilet seat up occasionally. Aargh! Jack was asking her on a date, not to move in. Still hesitant on how she wanted to respond, she saved Jack’s message and then answered her mom’s e-mail, telling her how much she was enjoying the trip, but leaving out the hot lovemaking and sexy younger man scenario. Her mom may have sprung into the twenty-first century, but not when it came to her daughters. Sex was great in Mom’s book, but only with a man you truly loved. Love was something Susannah definitely wasn’t ready to face yet. “Hey,” Chelsie said from behind her. Her sister had been taking a shower. So engrossed in her absurd thoughts, Susannah hadn’t even heard the water shut off. Susannah turned to find Chelsie in a small white tank top and jeans, her hair still wet and threatening to curl into ringlets. “What on earth do you think Mattie and Courtney are doing?” Chelsie plopped onto the sofa. “I have no idea.” When she’d come back from Hagen’s, Susannah had been shocked to hear that the unlikely duo was still running around Amsterdam together. “Maybe Courtney convinced Mattie to get her nipples pierced.” Chelsie let out a full-blown laugh. “Nipple piercing? Mattie hates pain. I’m not even sure Mattie’s ears are pierced.” She crossed her arms under her boobs. “Yet I have to say Suz, you’ve certainly loosened up on this trip. Thank God.” “Gee, thanks, sis. You make it sound like I was as prim as Mary Poppins.” “Well, if the umbrella fits…”

158

Renee Knowles

Susannah picked up a large binder clip from Courtney’s desk and threw it at Chelsie. “I wasn’t that bad.” Chelsie drew her arm up to deflect the plastic clip. “No need to maim me. You weren’t that bad. Just now, you’re infinitely more fun.” Was she? Well, she was the woman who took her top off at the beach and had sex until her thighs were sore. She wouldn’t have even come close to doing those kinds of things in Denver. Hell yeah, she supposed she was. “Maybe you would like to get your nipples pierced?” Chelsie prodded. “I’m sure the exotic piercing shop would still be open.” “Bite me.” Chelsie grinned and cupped her boobs. “Hey, think of how nice they’d look the next time you sunbathed topless with a gold hoop hanging from each one.” “Never going to let me live that one down, are you?” A sly smile came over Chelsie’s face. “Wait until Toby hears.” Susannah started to send back a saucy reply, but then she realized she hadn’t had this easy a conversation with Chelsie in a while. “You’re doing much better today.” Chelsie shrugged. “What do you say to grabbing some ice cream or something?” She got up from the sofa and tried to finger comb her wavy hair. “You want ice cream?” Amazement filled Susannah’s voice. Chelsie shook her damp head. “No. But I thought you might. The café by the pub should still be serving.” Susannah contemplated her sister. She was offering a token of reparation. A way to make amends for her aloofness. Maybe Chelsie was finally ready to confide in her. “Sure. Let me grab my sandals.” **** “I still can’t get over how late the sun stays up here,” Susannah said. Nearing midnight, the sky was still bright enough to make out the blue of her jeans and the cobblestones on the sidewalk. A light breeze brushed by and a brief

Going Topless

159

thought went through Susannah’s mind that she was happier than she’d been in a long time. “It has to do with how far north we are,” Chelsie explained about the light.” Isn’t there some area of Russia where the sun stays up all night, like Alaska?” “Yeah. You can even sail on the lake in the middle of the night.” Susannah closed her mouth because a group of boisterous guys strutted by, one of them pointing toward Chelsie and screaming, “Brandon, isn’t that the sheila you were getting off on the other night?” A tall, disheveled blond dude stopped and stared at Chelsie. “Oh yeah!” he screamed back to the bunch. “Hey, gorgeous,” this Brandon guy slurred to Chels in an Australian accent. “I’ve been hoping to run into you.” He grabbed her and pulled her to him, his hands wandering over her ass. “I’ve been wanting to touch your hot body again.” Then he kissed her, roughly. Susannah’s fist clenched. Chelsie pushed him away and sent Susannah a shaky smile. “Hey, Brandon. This is my sister, Susannah.” He only nodded and grunted some greeting. He wrapped his arms around Chelsie again. “Not trying to give me the slip, are you, babe?” “You’re drunk,” Chelsie said. “What of it?” Brandon brought his hand up to her breast and squeezed. “I can get you some booze too.” Chelsie batted his hand away, but Susannah had seen enough. Fury seethed inside her. “Listen, asshole.” Susannah smacked his shoulder, his dazed face registering shock. “Get your hands off my sister, and leave her the hell alone.” Brandon dropped his arms from Chelsie, but slapped Susannah back on her bicep. “Who the hell are you? Her bodyguard?” “Damned straight.” “Enough, both of you!” Chelsie screamed. She turned to the blond creep and waved her hand in his face. “Brandon, don’t ever lay your hands on my sister

160

Renee Knowles

again. You’re acting like a total jerk. Get. Lost.” He tossed his arms into the air. “Fine. Whatever. You’re too used up for me anyway.” Then he took off after his raucous friends. Chelsie watched him go, her mouth pulled into a tight line. She whipped around to Susannah, her eyes glaring. “What the hell were you doing? Don’t you think I can take care of myself?” Susannah hadn’t expected this onslaught. “Obviously not.” “I do just fine when you’re not around. When are you going to let me lead my own life?” Anger raged in Susannah. This Brandon guy had been pawing all over Chelsie, and his attention had obviously been unwelcome. She’d only been trying to help. “When you’re capable of handling it,” she finally responded. But she immediately regretted saying it. “What are you thinking, getting involved with losers like him? You have to start making better decisions. Don’t you ever want to get married?” Chelsie scoffed. “Married? Oh, yeah. I know about marriage, Susannah. Or I should say, I know about married men. They use you, take you for granted, and then go home to their wives.” Go home to their wives. The phrase hung in the air like a rotten smell. Still angry about being chastised, it took Susannah’s mind a moment to catch up to it. When the words sunk in, her brain exploded. Chelsie stood staring, her eyes bulging with panic. Alarm rising along with her voice, Susannah cried, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Going Topless

161

Chapter 20

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 20. Always be willing to compromise. There are bound to be disagreements. Even the best relationships have them. Learn the art of negotiation. Your mama was right. You attract more bees with honey than vinegar. Saturday, 12:13 am Chelsie’s hands trembled violently. She put them into her jean’s pockets to stop the shaking. What had she done? “What am I talking about? N-nothing. I didn’t mean—” Susannah’s breath grew ragged. “You were involved with a married man?” Her voice shuddered. “I…” Chelsie stopped, terror clawing in her chest. I, what? She couldn’t lie anymore. She drew a deep breath. “Yes, Susannah. I was.” “When? Who?” Susannah stopped, her eyes narrowing until they looked like small slits. “Stephen?” “No! Are you insane?” This was worse than she’d thought. “You think I could do that?” “How am I supposed to know what to think? Who then?” “The man I was involved with who lives here in Amsterdam. The man I told you about the other day.”

162

Renee Knowles

“You had the affair when you went to school here?” “Yes.” “Did you know he was married?” Resignation overcame Chelsie. It was time to explain the whole thing. “Yes. I knew everything.” She shook her head and said a silent plea to the heavens that her sister would understand. “It was an unhappy marriage. And the truth is, I took advantage of the situation. He’d made it obvious he was attracted to me. And I wanted him. So I seduced him.” The light had started to fade, making Susannah’s stunned face appear distorted like a freak-show clown. Her sister sank against a lamppost and ran a hand threw her hair. She suddenly looked all of her thirty-nine years. “What were you thinking?” “I don’t know. I was young. I thought I was in love.” “So did his wife.” “Suz, I know now how wrong it was. But at the time, I was mesmerized by Martijn. He was a professor, and so much older than me and extremely interesting. He’d traveled the globe. I thought he was smarter, more exciting than any other man I’d ever known. And his wife, well, he said she was cold. She wasn’t able to keep him satisfied—” Susannah jumped up. “Don’t even try to rationalize this to me. Besides, you’re not stupid, Chels. The ‘martyr syndrome’ has been done a million times. It won’t cut it. Poor married man. Has to put up with his hag of wife. And the stupid bitch doesn’t even know how to give a good blowjob. Oh! How he’s suffered.” “Please listen! It wasn’t like that!” “Then what was it like? Did he say the wife nagged him all the time? Did she make him do horrendous things like put out the trash and rinse his dishes? Until finally, one day, a sexy slut, twenty years younger comes by. She has perky breasts, a slim waist, and doesn’t hassle him about everything. And she’s willing to have sex three times a day if he wants it. She’s the one bright spot in his otherwise horrific existence.” Susannah threw her hands into the air as if she was a preacher delivering a Sunday sermon. “Halleluiah, he’s saved!” Chelsie’s shoulders shook. Hell, her whole body shook. All she’d been able to hear was the word slut. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her sister despised her.

Going Topless

163

She despised herself. “One mistake doesn’t make me a slut.” Her voice cracked. Susannah ran her eyes over Chelsie, disgust lining her face. “Was he really the only one?” Cold slithered down Chelsie’s spine at her sister’s callous words. The past had finally caught up with her. And there was a devil of a price to pay. “Susannah—” She reached for her. Susannah jerked out of her grasp. “Don’t. I need to be alone for a while.” She stalked off, the angry sound of her sandals as they beat against the cobblestone reverberating in Chelsie’s ears. **** Chelsie wandered aimlessly for at least an hour before returning to the apartment. She walked in not certain what she’d find, and not sure if she’d rather Susannah was still out or was waiting for her ready to make up. But the living room was dark, the door to the guest room Susannah and her had been sharing was open, and the room empty. Chelsie dropped onto the bed and threw her hand over her head. Well, if she’d wanted a fresh start, she’d gotten one in every respect. No lover. No boyfriend. No sister. At least no more friendship with her sister. She wasn’t sure if Susannah would ever forgive her. And if she did, would she ever look at her the same? Or would she forever regard her as a homewrecking slut? How much worse would it be if Susannah knew about the baby? Stephen and Susannah had tried to conceive, but they’d never been able to. A tear escaped Chelsie’s eye, and she swatted it away. Suddenly determined she needed to be free of all the ties to the past, Chelsie hopped up and opened the inside zipper of her black carry-on bag. She pulled out a brown envelope. Inside were the two memories she’d been able to keep from her relationship with Martijn. One was a two-page letter, written on Martijn’s heavy bond letterhead. It was not a sappy declaration of love. Rather, it was an analysis of an essay she’d written on Dickens. As she stared at his large scroll now, she saw what she hadn’t been able to then: the writing between the lines.

164

Renee Knowles

At the end of the missive he’d asked her to stop by his office to further discuss her opinions on Dickens’ use of humor. Of course, she’d known the moment his secretary had escorted her in that Martijn had more in mind than debating writing styles. The roguish gleam in his eye and the playful way he’d stood over her and stroked her shoulder while she’d read excerpts of her essay had been blatant signs to her. Clipped to the letterhead was a Polaroid of Martijn sitting in Vondelpark the one time they’d picnicked there together. The image was slightly distorted from years of being toted around in her purse and briefcase, but his careless good looks and seductive smile still leapt off the picture. Yet, as she looked closer, she saw his smile was more practiced than real, and his eyes were void of emotion. It was time to be rid of these memories. But she hadn’t the anger to tear them, or the hot desire to see them burn to ashes. Instead, Chelsie simply stared at them one last time, folded the envelope twice, and took them down to the trash dumpster behind the apartment. She didn’t feel anything but relief as the brown paper landed amongst old food and discarded waste. Then she went back to the apartment and closed the door to the guest room. She plopped onto the bed, took out the calling card she’d bought the other day, and made the one phone call she hoped would make her feel better but perhaps would make things worse. The phone rang two, three times, and then the person on the other end picked up. Chelsie drew a deep breath. “Hello, Mom?” “Chelsie? Is that you?” Her mom sounded surprised. “Aren’t you still in Amsterdam? What’s wrong? Is Susannah okay?” Her vision blurred until the buttons on the phone in front of her swam. “You know Mom, you’ve got another daughter.” Despite her best efforts, her voice broke. “Of course I know, Chelsie. I’m talking to you right now.” Her mom paused. “You’re crying. What’s wrong?” Chelsie heard the genuine concern in her mother’s question and clutched the duvet cover so tightly her fist ached. “I just needed to talk to you, Mom.” “Well, honey, you can call me anytime.”

Going Topless

165

Chelsie let out an “mmm” sound because even though she knew she could call her mom anytime, her mom didn’t always make her feel welcome once she did. “Harold,” her mom screamed away from the phone, “put the lamp on the end table.” Then to Chelsie, “We bought some new furniture today. Wait until you see the place, you won’t even recognize it.” Chelsie remembered then that her mom and her boyfriend were moving in together this week. She gave a pointless wave at the phone as if to say: hello, daughter still on the phone, crying her eyes out. But she said to her mom, “That’s nice.” “So, Susannah’s getting along well, then?” her mom asked. This had been a mistake. Briefly, Chelsie considered saying, Yeah, she’s doing great, Mom. Screwing some college kid’s brains out. Says he gives the best oral sex she’s ever had. She knew her sarcasm would be no use. Instead she gave her mom a mundane rundown of some of the things they’d been doing and what a great time they were having. “Chelsie,” her mom interrupted, “if you’re having so much fun, why are you crying?” Ah, Mom. Too little, too late. “Must be PMS.” “Oh.” Chelsie hadn’t had PMS a day in her life. But her mom had often attributed Chelsie’s erratic teenage behavior to it. And the excuse worked this time like a charm. “Well, take a pain reliever, honey, and get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Then she whispered away from the receiver, “PMS.” Must be good ole Harry wanting to know what the problem was. Resigning herself to the fate of never having a real friendship with her mother, Chelsie thanked her mom and got off the phone. Pain reliever and rest. Sounded like a kick ass plan. She rounded up a pain reliever in the guise of a bottle of beer, drank it, and then closed her eyes.

166

Renee Knowles

Chapter 21

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 21. Don’t think of sex as a cure-all. Using sex to solve relationship problems is bound to disappoint you. It only provides a temporary balm. That said, there is no hotter sex on the planet than make-up sex. Saturday, 8:00 am Hagen’s Apartment Susannah snuggled against Hagen’s warm body and tried to will herself back to sleep. Her fuzzy brain and cramped neck were testimony to the fact that she’d barely slept at all the night before. And it wasn’t due to an all-night sex marathon. The vivid, evil sun shone through the uncovered window in Hagen’s bedroom. The bright light smarted and burned her eyes. Despite the fact she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the night before, Susannah felt distinctly like she had a bad hangover. Nothing sounded as appealing as curling up in the dark and skipping this entire day. Why didn’t Hagen have blinds, for heaven’s sake? She let the lids fall over her stinging eyes and sighed. Hagen snored softly next to her. Part of her wished she hadn’t run to him last night when things had gotten out of hand with Chelsie. She hadn’t been very forthcoming about what was wrong and why she’d been knocking on his door at one in the morning. Not that he’d seemed angry. In fact, he’d pulled her to him for a kiss, evidently taking her sudden appearance to mean she was in the mood for mind-

Going Topless

167

blowing sex. But lovemaking was the last thing on her mind. “What is wrong?” he’d asked when she’d pulled away. “Nothing,” she’d snapped, running a hand through her messy hair. He’d cocked his head and peered at her. She had to have been a sight. Her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks were bound to have raised her “ick” factor. Add to that the fact her white t-shirt had had mascara smeared on it from where she’d wiped her surprisingly wet cheeks. She was sure she hadn’t been crying. She never did. It must have been raining outside. Hagen had put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I was just asking a question.” Poor Hagen, she thought as she stroked his arm, her fingers tracing over a long thin scar on his tanned forearm. He was only looking for a summer fling, not an anxious, distraught woman who brought her problems to him. But she hadn’t had the will to go back to Courtney’s last night. Sharing a room with Chelsie was out. Her sister and a married man? She tightened her fist and inhaled until her lungs ached. How could Chelsie betray someone that way? And all the false sympathy Chelsie had spewed when Susannah had discovered Stephen’s affair. The anguish of finding that woman’s note in Stephen’s car rushed back in vivid color, as if Susannah were reliving it all again. She’d learned more than she ever wanted to know about her sister last night. And the ugliness of it blistered her gut like the Smokin’ Hot Jalapeno Pepper Sauce she sold at Saucy-lito. The one that said it was guaranteed to char your belly and set your tongue ablaze until you needed a fire extinguisher. Susannah let out a foul moan and turned onto her back, rubbing her stomach. The sauce analogy made her insides clench. She really did feel like crap. Her health always deteriorated when her emotions were snarled. “Are you all right?” Hagen asked, sleep still layering his voice. She must’ve groaned pretty loud. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Her listless tone didn’t even convince her. “You sounded sick.” Much to her dismay, elephant-like whimpering translated into any language. “I’m…” She started to say fine again, but why lie? “Yeah. I feel pretty

168

Renee Knowles

bad.” “Anything I can do?” Hagen slid his hand over her hip to her breast, lightly massaging it. The move caused an involuntary wetness to drip between her legs. She was not in the mood to be turned on. Evidently, her body hadn’t gotten the message. Hagen kissed her. His firm lips exerted just the right amount of pressure, and his tongue laced with hers perfectly. He must have sensed her reluctance though and became more insistent. His lean, muscled legs pressed against hers. “I need you.” His words raised her body temperature to boiling. But she couldn’t get more than her body to respond. Her mind remained focused on the argument from last night. So, the question became, have sex and see if it helped her forget her thoughts, or turn him away and leave them both turned on and horny? Her cramped stomach answered for her. She rolled away. “I’m not up for it this morning.” Hagen’s heavy breathing echoed in the small bedroom. He ran his hand over his face as if trying to make sense of it all. Was he pissed? She couldn’t tell. But he scrunched his brows together and grabbed a pair of underwear from a drawer. Watching the sexy taut muscles tense in his back as he pulled on a pair of briefs caused a regret of another kind. She had an ache between her thighs from a job half done. When Hagen turned back to her, she saw concern, not anger in his eyes. “What is the problem, Susannah? You were very upset when you came here last night. And you do not seem any happier this morning.” The question came back to her of how much a lover deserved to know about her. As he sat beside her and kissed her hand, she suddenly had a desire to blurt it all out. Yet the truth hurts. And was sometimes fairly humiliating. She didn’t have the guts to explain to Hagen about Stephen’s deception. “You know what?” she said instead. “I’m doing all right. Just feeling a little sick. I bet breakfast will help me tremendously.” Maybe food would settle

Going Topless

169

her stomach. It had been hours since she’d eaten. At first his tight mouth registered his disbelief with her excuse. But as he stared at her, his eyes softened. “You want breakfast?” She nodded. “Then you are in luck.” “You’re not suggesting stale bread and cookies?” She remembered the last meal he offered her at his bachelor pad. He grinned and kissed her. “No. I went to the market. I have real food.” “Wahoo,” she said, and then tried to forget about Chelsie for a while. She didn’t want to mess up the last few days she had with Hagen. **** Saturday, 11:00 am The Anne Frank House Museum There was a distinct chill in the air, Susannah noticed. And it wasn’t due solely to the snarky comments Chelsie had been bandying about this morning while they waited in line for over an hour and a half. A gust of autumn-like wind followed Susannah, Chelsie, and Mattie into the front doors of the Anne Frank House Museum. The tiny entranceway was plastered with pictures of Anne and her family. Mattie shivered as the door closed behind her. “You’d think it was October.” “At least we didn’t have to wait in sweltering heat,” Chelsie said. Susannah almost said Amen, as she was still feeling a little queasy and thought the heat might’ve done her in. Yet she hadn’t so much as spoken two words to her sister all day. She wasn’t about to break such a stellar record. As Susannah reached into her pocket to pull out some euros for admission, a woman in an official-looking uniform tugged on Mattie’s backpack. “You cannot take this inside,” the stout brunette stated firmly in stilted English.

170

Renee Knowles

Mattie looked confused, until the woman pointed to a sign on the wall showing backpacks and large bags with a big red line drawn through their picture. All three of them moved to the side to discuss what to do, while a small group behind them happily took their spot at the ticket counter. “I know someone who lives around here,” Mattie said. “I’ll leave it with him and be back in a flash.” She knew someone around here? A guy? Susannah never imagined Mattie had such surprises. Maybe she had been with Courtney getting her nipples pierced last night. “You guys go on ahead and I’ll meet up with you.” Mattie started to turn away. Mattie had been an unknowing buffer between Chelsie and her all morning. Susannah would rather walk over hot coals than hang out with her sister on her own. She’d only gone today because this museum was something she really wanted to see, and they’d planned the outing all week. “Maybe we should come back later,” Chelsie called after her, a little panic evident in her voice. Mattie spun around. “No, that’s crazy, I’ll only be twenty minutes.” She paused. “Or maybe a little longer. But don’t wait on my account. I’ll catch up.” Then she was gone, a big grin lighting her face. At least someone was happy this morning. Susannah ignored her sister and swiveled back toward the counter. The brunette ticket clerk was waving them over, but Chelsie’s words stopped her cold. “Are you sure you aren’t too embarrassed to be seen around town with a slut?” Susannah swallowed. Her throat ached with the effort of keeping inside a nasty retort. She wouldn’t be goaded into a nasty drag-out battle in the middle of the lobby of the Anne Frank House. She knew the drill. Chelsie always turned her dry sarcasm on Susannah during a fight. And this was no ordinary argument. This time it was compounded ten fold. “No problem,” Susannah responded without turning around. “If you weren’t too embarrassed to be seen making out with the loser from last night, then I suppose I can buck up.”

Going Topless

171

Chelsie didn’t gasp, she was too in control for that. But Susannah sensed Chelsie’s pain at her words. As they ordered their tickets, the air between them sat saturated with hostility as thick as the sticky fog that inundated Denver on an autumn morning. If one was keeping track, the snide comment should’ve been a big score for Susannah. Only, she couldn’t help but think this was a game they were both going to lose. **** A Jewish star. A tattered World War II identification card. They were such simple symbols. But the potent affect they had on Susannah as she stood staring into a glass display case at the Anne Frank House was as strong as if someone had taken a baseball bat to her midsection. Sure, she’d read Anne Frank’s diary as a girl and had been as enthralled as most fourteen-year-olds. It was such an intimate peek into the life of a girl who in some ways was going through the same adolescent quirks Susannah herself was. Yet the hiding, the fear, and the seclusion, were so foreign to her then. Being in the very house Anne hid in, hearing the creak of the old, uneven wooden floors and seeing the relics of a vicious era not so long past brought emotions simmering to the surface she didn’t even know she had. “Heartbreaking,” she heard herself whisper, although she didn’t even recognize her own voice. “Yes,” said a 40-ish blonde from across the exhibit. Her throaty accent broke with a mixture of resignation and pain. “My grandmother was at Auschwitz.” “I’m sorry.” “Well, she survived. She was lucky. Her sister did not. Typhus. Like so many others. My grandmother never forgave herself for living, when her baby sister lost her battle. She wore a piece of her sister’s hair in a locket for the rest of her life.” The woman’s face seemed to register her shock at having divulged so much personal information to a stranger and she smiled shyly and turned away.

172

Renee Knowles

But Susannah understood. There were no strangers here. The very atmosphere pulled people of different backgrounds and different lives together. Susannah followed the house to the next room, where Chelsie stood staring at magazine cutouts of movie stars, which Anne Frank had taped to her walls. Chelsie glanced back when she walked in, and Susannah swore she saw a sheen covering her eyes. The blonde woman’s words echoed in her mind. What if her baby sister was gone? What if she wasn’t around to call or stop by unexpectedly at Saucylito? No matter what Chelsie had done, Susannah’s life would be empty without her. Yet despite the acute grief that seeped into the marrow of her bones, Susannah was still bitter. Her heart still ached. She turned away from her sister. She wasn’t yet ready to offer Chelsie any forgiveness.

Going Topless

173

Chapter 22

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 22. Better to be bitchy than blah. Nothing turns a man’s head more than a woman who knows what she wants. A man prefers his woman with a little fire. Not a sappy, simpering miss. Saturday, 9:30 pm Sidewalk Café in Central Amsterdam It was official. She was a bitch. Chelsie had barely opened her mouth today that something snotty hadn’t tumbled out of her lips. Remembering how she’d acted this morning at the Anne Frank house, she cringed. It was her defense mechanism. Or so the self-help book she’d read last month had claimed. Though bitchy had been a title she’d touted with pride as a teen, now, closing in toward thirty, Chelsie wasn’t sure the name was as complimentary. A stiff breeze whooshed over her, causing the hair on Chelsie’s neck to spike. She used her fingers to pull the cuffs on her long-sleeved knit shirt down over her hands. A bicycle whirled by the café table Chelsie and Mattie had been sitting at for over half an hour. Mattie munched on a pastry while Chelsie sat sipping an espresso. Her friend had been acting very strangely. She’d been quiet, smiling like a mad woman with a secret, and barely noticing the cute waiter wearing tight black jeans. As odd as Mattie’s actions might have been, Chelsie needed some help from her. Since last night’s argument with Susannah, she’d been confused. And confused wasn’t a state she enjoyed. She took a sip of espresso for courage and

174

Renee Knowles

started a long overdue conversation with Mattie. “Do you remember how I used to say, ‘Better bitchy than blah’?” Mattie put down the apple-filled croissant she was eating and wiped her hands on her napkin. “What I remember is in high school, the mantra seemed to work well for you. The boys were lined up at your locker every day to take you down to lunch.” “Not every day. And I don’t know if being bitchy actually attracted guys to me.” Mattie shrugged. “Yeah, it did. It still works for you.” “What do you mean?” “Well, hello, all the men who chase after you, it’s because you’re unattainable to them. I mean, yes, you’re beautiful. But so are a lot of other single women. You, you’re like a butterfly they just can’t catch. You never call them back. You don’t allow them a second date. And you never ask if it was good for them.” Chelsie reared back in her chair. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, Chelsie. Look at Richard. Men love the chase.” An unexpected thrill coursed through her at Richard’s name. She pictured him above her, his sexy, strong face tensing in pleasure. But they were over. She’d already sealed the deal with him when she hadn’t returned his call before leaving for Amsterdam. “So, you think I play hard to get?” “I don’t think you play. You are hard to get. At least after the deed.” “Isn’t that what men do?” Chelsie defended herself. “Make their play, then they’re on their way.” Another one of her high school sayings. Mattie rolled her eyes. “You started spouting that when Jake cheated on you, in what? Tenth grade? Not all men are Jake.” Despite the cold air, sweat broke out on the back of Chelsie’s neck. This was cutting too close. Jake had been her first. She’d dated him for four months before they’d had sex. She thought they were so in love and had even envisioned a future together at

Going Topless

175

the same college and grad school. But the next week Chelsie found him doing the dirty with the head cheerleader, Marcie, under the bleachers at a football game. Chelsie allowed herself some satisfaction in the knowledge she’d managed to get Marcie suspended from the squad for failure to appear for the final cheer. Marcie had certainly been cheering, but it wasn’t any verse they would’ve allowed at halftime. Crossing her arms under her chest, Chelsie grinned. “And here I thought guys wanted me because I’m so good in bed.” Though she joked, a nerve throbbed along her collarbone. Thank God Susannah wasn’t here to listen to this conversation. She’d skipped out after the museum. As if exemplifying the type of man Chelsie had made a habit of having one-night stands with, a pack of loud, drunken men, one wearing a fake bridal gown made out of sheets, and the rest dressed in cheesy blue tuxedos, made their way past the café. They loudly proclaimed it was the groom’s last weekend of freedom. It was a British bachelor party. A veritable smorgasbord of easy, fast, no commitment loving. Instead of returning the flirtatious glance one of the guys sent her way, Chelsie used the interruption to think about what Mattie had said. Had she been deliberately pushing men away since Jake? Did they only like her because she was beyond their reach, like an airborne butterfly? No, she told herself. The high school boys’ attraction to her had less to do with her bitchiness and more to do with the fact she’d developed boobs early on, and she knew how to use them to her advantage. Boys were suckers for nice breasts. But a small voice in her head agreed with Mattie. “Well, regardless,” Chelsie said when the group moved away from their table. “What I meant by my comment about being bitchy instead of blah was that a woman should have some feistiness, a little zing, rather than be an average Jane, sliding through life without adventure, saying ‘Yes, ma’am’ and doing all the right things. It makes life more interesting to have a little cheek.” Mattie’s mouth stopped mid-chomp. What was she thinking? Chelsie had described Mattie to a tee. Must she alienate everyone? “Mattie, I didn’t mean…”

176

Renee Knowles

“I know what you meant.” Mattie sat quiet for a moment. “And I know I’m one of those women who doesn’t necessarily make life very interesting.” “Listen,” Mattie continued before Chelsie had a chance to respond. “I know what I am and I know what I’m not. I’m not a flirt. I’m not a beauty. But maybe there is something more to me. Something deeper. And the truth is, I’m okay with that.” Mattie pulled off a flaky piece of pastry, plopped it into her mouth and smiled. Mattie was okay with it. She’d altered somehow in the past couple of days. And Chelsie sensed it had to do with the time she’d spent with Courtney. A pang of jealousy gripped her. Mattie had always been her friend. Why was it that Courtney could provoke such a change in her? Yet while Mattie had been out discovering herself, Chelsie, who’d never doubted or questioned her own behavior, wasn’t sure she liked who she was. “Maybe I took the bitchy thing too far. Maybe I haven’t been as considerate of other people as I should have.” The sentence was as close to an admission of guilt as Chelsie could manage. She owed many people an apology. Her clumsy attempt appeared to be enough for Mattie. Her eyes crinkled. “Don’t beat yourself up, Chelsie. You are who you are. Sometimes you’re a little wrapped up in yourself, but, hey, everyone has something.” “Um, what…if…I want to change?” Chelsie leaned back in her chair and exhaled loudly. Whew. Saying the words had been harder than she thought. Was it too late to right the wrongs of the past? Mattie’s nose scrunched up. “How?” “How?” “Yes. How do you want to change?” Chelsie searched deep inside herself. The cute waiter came over and brought her another cup of espresso. She bought some time by tasting the hot, bitter liquid. She’d learned a lot about being hurt the past few days. On both sides of the fence, it sucked. But maybe some of it she’d brought on herself. She’d always blamed Martijn for her distrust in men, but perhaps it went deeper. Maybe she’d only allowed Martijn in because he was ultimately inaccessible. She’d known the outcome all along with him. She’d set herself up for failure before the game had even begun.

Going Topless

177

Had she deliberately been jinxing herself? “Mattie, I don’t know exactly how I want to change. I know I want to be respected. Someone others can trust. Someone who can learn how to love.” Her voice cracked at bit on the last one. Susannah might have been right when she’d said Chelsie needed more in her life. She didn’t want to become Susannah. Yet was it possible to become someone her sister could admire? “To love?” Mattie repeated. “What about wham, bam, thank you, sir?” “What about starting over?” Mattie nodded. “Fair enough. Why don’t you start with Richard?” Chelsie shook her head briskly. “He must hate me for ignoring him.” “Give him a chance. He sounded like a keeper. Who knows? You might be pleasantly surprised.” Was there still a chance of dating Richard? Much to her amazement, Chelsie found the thought of a possible relationship with him more intriguing than repulsive. Maybe he’d been written on, as Mrs. van Emmerik had said, by the correct amount of women. “Maybe you’re right,” she said to Mattie. She still had fifty minutes left on her calling card, what would be the harm in trying? What’s the worse he could do? Hang up on her? Mattie lifted her glass of mineral water in a toast. “There might be hope for you yet.” Chelsie half-kicked her under the table. But inside, her heart—the one she used to think was buried in a shoebox at the back of her closet—soared. There had been a shifting in power between the two of them on this trip. Chelsie had never gone to Mattie for advice before. And Mattie had never gone to anyone but Chelsie. There was no resentment on Chelsie’s part. This starting over idea was taking shape. And it appeared no area of her life would remain unchanged.

178

Renee Knowles

Chapter 23

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 23. Always be gracious. Men love a little gratitude. Don’t take him for granted. Let him know you appreciate him. It can go a long way in capturing his heart. Sunday, 10:00 am Begijnhof Courtyard “You can look now,” Hagen said, removing his hands from her eyes and finally allowing Susannah to see where he’d been leading her. Susannah opened her eyes. No cars, no bicycles, little trace of modern life. Had she been thrown back in time? No, Hagen was still standing in front of her, wearing a very modern pair of vintage-washed jeans and a large, eager grin. “What is this place?” Susannah whispered. When Hagen first asked her to close her eyes, they’d been in the bustling Spui shopping district, flanked by trendy couture and performers playing on street organs. Yet now, the noise and busyness of the hectic business quarter was replaced by a quiet, circular lane filled with well-kept flower gardens and old gabled houses that looked like they belonged in the fable Beauty and the Beast. “Do you like it?” Hagen’s dark eyes shined with expectation. “Yes. It’s amazing.” She twirled around to get a better view. “This is the Begijnhof Courtyard. The neighborhood has the oldest

Going Topless

179

surviving wooden home in Amsterdam, a hidden Catholic church, and no cars. The courtyard kept its original architecture through centuries of change and the world building up around it. Many of the homes are over five hundred years old.” “Do people actually live here?” “Ja.” He pointed to his left. “There is a woman now, watering her rose plants.” Sure enough, a slightly stooped gray-haired woman stood on a stone walkway with a green metal watering can in her hand. Also loitering about the area were groups of visitors taking pictures, pointing at architectural details, and relishing the sublime experience. “Don’t the residents mind having tourists walking around?” Susannah asked. “Maybe a little. But, in English, I suppose one would say, this is a marvel. And the residents want to share it.” What would it be like living as if one was thrown back into a technologyfree era? Susannah wondered while Hagen led her around the narrow path. The cynical side of her figured inside the centuries-old houses they probably had cable television and wireless Internet service. “They have many rules,” Hagen pointed out. “Tourists must be quiet and respectful. The courtyard is only open for visitors a few hours a day, and the residents are not to be bothered by nosy questions.” There was an air about the place, which made one need to be deferential. A low stone wall kept sightseers out of the well-manicured park in the middle of the courtyard. Looking around, it was hard to fathom that in less than three days she would be in her own house in Denver and Hagen would be half a world away. He squeezed her hand. “I thought a diversion like this might cheer you.” After yesterday’s intense day spent fielding Chelsie’s acerbic comments, Susannah finally noticed the tension easing from her shoulders. “You might be right. You know, for one so young, you are incredibly wise.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And I was hoping after all this time, you would not think of my age.” She didn’t usually think of his age anymore. In fact, the more time she spent with Hagen, the less she wanted to leave him. But to take back her comment

180

Renee Knowles

now would only sound hollow. “Come.” Hagen took her hand and directed her toward a small collection of buildings at the far end of the square. His pleasure at sharing this place with her was evident on his face. When Susannah had first seen him, she’d thought his strong jaw and masculine features reminded her of a young Liam Neeson. Now, he was only Hagen. Lean, powerful arms. Sexy lips made for sin. And thoughtful gestures, like bringing her here. Susannah couldn’t resist stopping and pulling him to her for a kiss. Hagen’s eyes darted around, and he smiled sheepishly when he pulled away. “This is probably not the place for this.” Normally, she would’ve agreed. Yet realizing Hagen was trying to make her happy, stirred something within her. “What better place is there?” She ran her palm over his slightly scruffy cheek. He laughed. “Well, my apartment, a little later might be a good choice. But I suppose I should take my rewards where I can.” “What is that supposed to mean?” She let him take her hand again and they walked toward what looked like a stone church. “Yesterday morning, I wondered if maybe I was losing my appeal.” “Hagen,” she admonished. “Please, don’t think that. That is so far from the truth, it’s almost comical.” His brows rose. “Comical?” “Yes.” A cluster of tourists surrounded them now, reading a plaque stationed next to the church. “Comical. Funny. Absurd.” He put his hands on her waist and turned her to face the sign. “Hmm. Funny is not how I felt at the time.” “Hagen,” she turned her head back toward him. “I’m sorry—” He smiled. “Susannah, I am joking. Don’t be sorry. There is no need.” He gently used his finger to roll her head forward again. “Read.” Susannah read the plaque. Another piece of history, but this time one connected to America. The brick structure was what the Dutch called the Engelse Kerk, or English Church. It was the very place of worship the exiled pilgrims had

Going Topless

181

used for services before escaping to America. “This is very cool.” “I thought you might like it.” Hagen was obviously excited to show her something connected to her homeland. After they’d taken a look around the church he said, “Follow me. I have one other surprise for you.” They walked until they found a bench secluded from prying eyes by several trees. At first, he didn’t say anything. He would glance at her, smile and then look away. It wasn’t like him to be skittish. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked. He took a deep breath and turned toward her. “Susannah, I’ve had a lot of fun being with you. You are like a fresh breath of air that came into my life.” He reached for her hand and ran his thumb along the top. “I want you to know this time we have spent together has been…important to me.” Warning signals, as strong as a Mack truck bearing down on her, went off in her head. “What are you saying?” “Well, we both know you will be leaving and I will be returning to Germany.” She had assumed as much. His classes were over. But he hadn’t said anything about it. Her heart sunk to her toes. “Are you saying goodbye?” “No.” He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging some of it from his ponytail. “Yes.” “My flight doesn’t leave until Tuesday.” Resignation crossed his face. “I know. But I must leave tomorrow.” “Tomorrow! Why? And why are you only telling me this now?” Her composure slipped. First the fight with Chelsie, and now she had to say goodbye to Hagen before she was ready? Would she ever be willing to let him go? “Susannah.” He squeezed her trembling hand and pulled her closer. “I did not know this until last night. I was supposed to leave at the end of the week. But my father phoned. He said his company has a position for me for the summer. They want me to translate some material for a contract they are bidding on with an American corporation. They need me to start right away. And I can get a ride with a friend who is driving back to Berlin tomorrow.” He shrugged. “It just makes sense for me to go now.” It may have made sense, but to her it was… “Bullshit.”

182

Renee Knowles

“Excuse me?” “It’s only that I thought we would have another day together.” “Yes, I know. So did I.” He moved his hand over his jaw. “I am sorry, Susannah.” He was not sorry enough to tell good old Dad he wouldn’t be home until the weekend. An idea flashed through her mind. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye forever. I could come visit you in Germany. I’ve always wanted to see the country. Or I could even come back to Amsterdam in the fall—” Hagen shook his head, quelling her protests and reducing her pride to dusty ashes. “Now was the right time for us to be together. But we are not meant for the future.” Susannah yanked her hand back. “What the hell kind of statement is that?” “Don’t be angry. Bitte, Susannah. Please. You know this too. The time was right for you because you needed to move on, to be with someone again.” How presumptuous. Move on. Couldn’t she burn the damn phrase out of her vocabulary? “And,” Hagen said, “the time was right for me too. I…” He paused, glancing at a nearby tree. “I had someone to get over as well.” She was a rebound fling? Then she remembered. “The girl you went to Tuscany with?” Hagen only nodded. “She married someone else three months ago.” So they’d both been lost souls. She’d never have guessed. But he’d never let her in as much as he had today. “I have something for you.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small felt-covered box. He didn’t seem the type, but was this some sort of weird payoff for their affair? His eyes shone as eager as they’d been when he’d brought her to the courtyard. “Open it.” Susannah lifted the lid and stilled. Her breath clogged her throat. In the box sat the very locket she’d been admiring at the antique store on their way

Going Topless

183

home from dinner at Signor DeMola’s. “My God,” she said. “You remembered.” The spite she’d been feeling the past few minutes faded. It was such a personal gift. She had meant something to him. “Hagen, thank you. I don’t know what to say. I don’t have anything for you.” He grinned and kissed her, nibbling on her lower lip. “Don’t worry, Liebling. It’s all good.” She took the locket from the box and opened it. Inside the marcasite top sat an old sepia-colored photo of a couple holding a baby dressed in a long, lacy white dress. Who knew what country this pendant originated from? But in that instant her reasons for not buying the locket for herself came rushing back. She clamped it shut. She wasn’t one to hold her own pity party. Yet she was nearly forty and she had no family, no child and no future. “What is wrong?” Hagen asked. “Do you not like it?” For once she wished he wasn’t so good at reading her emotions. “No. It’s not that. It’s only…” “Only what?” She looked into his eyes and something inside her burst. “It’s just that when Stephen died he took part of me with him. Part of my future.” “And you see this in the locket?” “I see a couple, a family, and a baby someone loved.” “This makes you sad. I am sorry.” “No, no. The gift is wonderful. It’s me. I have these crazy, stupid feelings since Stephen’s death. I can’t seem to get totally on track.” Tears stung her eyes. For the second time in as many days, she was going to cry. Her shoulders shook, and as if one of Amsterdam’s barrier walls burst, silent sobs exploded within her. Susannah hadn’t cried over Stephen since the funeral. She hadn’t cried when she’d found out he’d been unfaithful. Suddenly the pain was excruciating, unbearable. It tore at her insides like the claws of a mountain lion. She clutched her stomach, embarrassed, yet unable to stop the emotions.

184

Renee Knowles

“How could he do this to me?” she whispered as wet, wild teardrops fell from her cheeks into her lap. “How could he leave me? How could he hurt me so much?” At first, Hagen stiffened, obviously confused at to how handle her episode. Somewhere through the pain she had a spasm of sympathy for him. But soon, his eyes shrunk back to normal size and he wrapped his arms around her. She let the tears really fall then. Clutching his black shirt and surrendering to them. It was as if each drop were a release, liberating something inside her. For a moment it was good to be allowed to wallow in the open wound. The “hows” and “whys” played over in her mind. Why was life so unfair? Why were her dreams taken from her? How could she not have known about Stephen’s affair? Only had she known, deep inside? How could he have betrayed her? How could Chelsie have betrayed her? That thought brought her up short. She stopped crying and sniffed— loudly. Chelsie hadn’t betrayed her. She had deceived someone, but not Susannah. So why did it feel like she had? As strong and quick as an afternoon lightning storm, she knew. She’d blamed Chelsie for Stephen’s actions. All the anguish she’d buried for the past couple of weeks had exploded the night they’d argued. Susannah had held Chelsie liable for the pain her husband had caused her. And she’d called her a slut. Realization dawned and it wasn’t pretty. Slowly, little by little, the tears stopped falling. Filled with worry, Hagen’s eyes skimmed over her face. “Are you better now?” Was she better? As she wiped her cheeks, she was still shaking, still unstable, but in some ways her mind was clearer than it had been in months. “Yes.” Her voice was only a little unsteady. He held her for a while, and she recognized he’d been right. This was the time for them to be together. She’d desired his attention more than she’d realized. And despite her protests, she’d known from the day she’d met him that she’d

Going Topless

185

sleep with him. It had only been a matter of time. When her composure fully returned, Susannah kissed him, pouring all her gratitude and passion into the kiss. He kissed her back this time, spine-tingling electric energy sparking between them. “Let’s go back to the apartment,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I need to be with you one last time.” She needed him too. Maybe more than she ever had. And as they left the courtyard, two thoughts whipped through Susannah’s mind. She was going to make love to Hagen all afternoon. And after they’d said a proper goodbye, she owed Chelsie one hell of an apology.

186

Renee Knowles

Chapter 24

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 24. Love means never having to say you’re sorry…not. Don’t blame your man for everything. Take responsibility for your faults. Sometimes swallowing a little pride and saying you’re sorry first can save a relationship. Sunday, 7:20 pm Courtney’s Apartment “Guess what?” Courtney’s cheeks nearly bulged with news. Chelsie put down the tablet she’d been writing on. “I give.” She was not in the mood for guessing. “What?” Courtney fell onto the sofa and folded her legs under her. “Not much of a college try, Chelsie. But I’ll tell you anyway: Tevin is officially moving out!” “No way!” “Yes. And what’s even more surprising—” she made a show of checking over the front page of this morning’s paper “—even though I can’t find anything in the news about hell freezing over, Tevin’s found a job. He’s going to be a personal assistant to some uppity rich lady living in London. I’m pretty sure his mom set the whole thing up.” She smirked. “Although, I have the feeling ‘personal assistant’ might be a euphemism.” Chelsie tapped her pencil on the notebook in her lap. “Even if his mom got him the job?” “Well, he said the woman is a wealthy widow, and that he spent the whole

Going Topless

187

morning convincing her he was the man for the position. And he seemed to know an inordinate amount of details about the master bedroom in the lady’s twentyroom mansion.” “With Tevin, anything’s possible,” Mattie said, walking into the room as she towel-dried her hair from a shower. Chelsie was happy to hear Mattie had finally learned the truth about Tevin. There was a definite spring in her friend’s step now. “His stuff is supposed to be out of here by the end of the week,” Courtney said. “So, I was thinking, why don’t we all go out and celebrate!” Sounded like a good plan, but Chelsie had other ideas for how she wanted to spend the evening. It would be afternoon in Denver within the hour, and she wanted to call Richard. Plus, she’d been hoping Susannah would return from Hagen’s soon. She glanced down at her writing on the yellow-lined notepad. As if she were an adolescent, she’d been rehearsing what to say to her sister. A truce with Susannah was essential. Chelsie needed to bridge the gap between them. Her hurt had receded, leaving only emptiness. No more biting comments. She’d learned her lesson about that and so much more. “I think I’ll—” Chelsie’s words were cut off by the opening of the front door. Susannah stood there, her typically composed expression replaced by red eyes and a tense jaw. When her gaze lit on Chelsie, the animosity of the day before was gone. Chelsie stood. Her heart leapt in a flicker of hope. “Well,” said Courtney, glancing from Chelsie to Susannah, “we’ll be on our way.” “Let me just grab my pack.” Mattie reached for her fanny pack. As she passed Chelsie, she sent her a smile of encouragement. Chelsie had only briefly filled Mattie in on the argument, but she supposed the tension in the apartment lately had been too strong to disguise. “We’ll be at the café on the corner if you guys want to join us,” Courtney called on their way out. Once the two of them were gone, Chelsie started her prepared speech.

188

Renee Knowles

“Suz, we need to talk.” “You’re right.” Susannah plopped her purse onto the coffee table. Well, she hadn’t taken much convincing. That part of her speech was out the window. “I know you don’t like me very much right now,” Chelsie said, failing to remember the articulate words she’d used on her notepad. “Chelsie—” “No, Suz, hear me out. Maybe I deserve some of your loathing. I haven’t always made the best decisions in my life. Even though I can’t right those wrongs, I am going to try and change. I’m going to try and be a better person.” Her knees wobbled, but she was determined to get through this speech. “Wait—” Susannah cut in again. Chelsie held up her hand. “Please. I need to get this all out. With Martijn, I was young and foolish. That doesn’t make up for what I did. And I realize now how callous a person I was. I never thought of his wife as anything but a rival. But I swear he was the only one. And in some ways I have paid, more dearly than you can ever imagine. So, please, don’t make me pay twice, Suz. You’re my sister.” Her voice cracked. “And I love you. And if I lose you completely, I don’t know what I’d do.” Chelsie’s vision began to blur. She blinked, twice. Get yourself together! This isn’t some Lifetime movie. Susannah sent her a small smile and crossed her arms. “Okay, you hardheaded woman, are you going to listen to me now?” “You’re teasing me? Now?” Chelsie had put her heart on the line, throwing everything she had into that speech. Susannah shook her head. “I don’t mean to make light. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, but I’m not sure how to do this either, Chelsie. I heard you out, now will you please listen to me?” Chelsie nodded, emotionally spent, and plopped down onto the sofa. Susannah walked back and forth in front of her. “Chels, what you did is not anything I can easily understand. Or condone.” Chelsie’s heart began to drop. Then Susannah stopped pacing and sat beside her. “But the way I treated you was just as wrong. It’s not for me to place

Going Topless

189

blame. I shouldn’t have judged you as harshly as I did.” “Maybe you shouldn’t have judged me at all without at least giving me a chance to explain. Haven’t we all made mistakes, Susannah?” “Yes,” Susannah said. “You’re right. Look, I love you too, sis. And apologies suck, but I owe you one. Big time. I was a bitch. And I’m sorry. For all the hurtful things I said, and for what I called you.” Silence filled the room as Chelsie let her sister’s words sink in. She exhaled slowly. “Before we put this behind us, there’s one more thing you need to know.” “Okay.” Here goes nothing. “When I was involved with this married man, I got pregnant.” Susannah gazed unblinking at her. “You had a baby?” She hoped she hadn’t screwed this up. “No. I had a miscarriage. And I know this might make you resent what I did even more, but I had to tell you.” “Chels, you went through this alone?” Chelsie pulled her legs up onto the sofa and wrapped her arms around them. “Who was I going to tell?” “This must have been around the time Dad died.” “Just before.” Silence filled the room, louder than any noise could have been. “Look, it wasn’t a planned thing. It wasn’t a manipulation,” Chelsie said defensively. Frustration began to set in. “I know you don’t get it.” “Actually, I do,” Susannah responded. “You were right when you said you had paid for what you’d done. You know how much I wanted a child. But when it didn’t happen easily, I always figured there would be time. Next month, next year. Well, time is a slippery animal.” She grabbed Chelsie’s hand. “Hon, to lose a child. Or the dream of a child. No matter what the circumstances.” Tears showed in her eyes. “I’m only sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Quiet swept over them once again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a healing and necessary silence. After a few minutes, Chelsie broke in, “This might be a first.”

190

Renee Knowles

“A first?” “Yeah. I can’t remember you ever having to apologize to me before. Usually, it’s the other way around.” Susannah grinned. “Well, don’t get too used to it, little sister. I’m sure it will pass.” She nudged her. “So, everything’s okay? Do you forgive me?” “Everything’s cool in my book. I owe you an apology too, for my sassy mouth.” She scanned her sister’s face. “I guess this means we can be friends again?” “Always, Chels.” “Well, then let me say, as your friend, you look like you’ve just been run over by an eighteen wheeler.” Susannah glanced down and adjusted her skewed tank top, then ran her fingers through her messy hair. “Thanks. Great to have you back. You always know just the thing to say, friend.” She let out a feeble laugh. “Sorry, but you know I tell it like it is. So what’s up?” She put her face in her hands. “I’ve had quite a day. Hagen’s leaving tomorrow.” “Leaving?” “Going back home to Germany.” Chelsie knew how close Suz had gotten with him, and her heart broke for her. “That bites.” “It does.” Susannah stopped, then looked back up. “But you know what I’ve decided?” Her eyes began to brighten. “What?” “I don’t want to spend my time sulking. I still have another day and a half left of my trip. Thirty-six blissful hours before life, bills, Saucy-lito and reality haunt me again.” She bounded up off the couch. “I think I need to do some more vacationing.” Chelsie jumped up too. The weight of their fight lifted, she suddenly felt like partying. “I’m totally up for that!” Susannah tapped her foot on the floor. “What should we do?”

Going Topless

191

With her sister’s tapping feet, the perfect idea flashed in Chelsie’s mind. “Dancing.” “Dancing?” “Yes! Cool tunes, sexy men, and pulsating bodies.” Her temperature was already rising, and she had the ideal outfit picked out. “Uh-huh. Get ready, girl. I know just the place.”

192

Renee Knowles

Chapter 25

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 25. Keep him on his toes. Surprise him every day. Show him your serious side one night, and then wow him with your inner sexpot. Never allow him to tire of you and he won’t stray far from the nest. Sunday, 11:30 pm Basement Dance Club Euro-techno music pumped through Susannah’s body, vibrating from the heels on her silver spike sandals all the way up to the thin straps of her white slinky dress. She and Chelsie had picked up Courtney and Mattie on their way to the underground club. Susannah had never stepped foot in a nightclub like this. She’d been to some country bars, some college hangouts, but never a pulsing, throbbing, sticky crowd of boogieing fiends. Sex, as thick as the dancer’s sweat, hung in the air. And many of the gyrating couples appeared like they were getting down to it right there on the dance floor. “Dirty martini,” the bartender shouted as she slammed the drink down in front of Susannah. The barmaid’s hot pink hair and belly-button jewel sparkled in the skipping lights of the disco ball. “A martini?” Chelsie asked, waiting for her own drink. Mattie, who’d been sipping a beer next to Susannah, smiled. “Not just a

Going Topless

193

martini. A dirty one.” There was no sarcasm in her tone this time and Susannah noticed, probably for the first time, how nice a smile Mattie had. Chelsie’s wild hair flew as she shook her head. “A step up from your usual Chardonnay, sis.” Her drink came and the silver bangles on her wrist clanked against one another as she tossed back a taste of her Long Island Iced Tea. “Hey, you’re one to talk. A Long Island Iced Tea, in Amsterdam? Besides, I can’t very well order a boring drink while I’m wearing your ‘Sex Goddess’ dress.” Susannah adjusted the dress around her hips. “It wouldn’t look right.” Chelsie had insisted Susannah wear her slinky dress. The wispy material had made her feel naked when she’d first pulled it over her shoulders. And no matter how she’d tried, Susannah hadn’t been able to find a pair of sensible underwear that didn’t show through the sheer material. So, she’d worn the only thong she’d brought on a whim. Surprise, surprise, it had been given to her by Chelsie in a lingerie set. And, truth be told, it didn’t feel half bad. She’d bared her breasts and worn a thong on this trip. So much for proper Susannah. Chelsie looked over the white dress that clung to Susannah’s every curve and dipped nearly to her ass in the back. “Even you have to admit you are one hot mama tonight.” “You do look like a prime piece in that,” Courtney said from behind her. “Sometimes you are so crass.” Mattie elbowed Courtney. The two of them had formed some kind of bond in the past few days. “But always honest. In fact,” Courtney wiggled her earring-clad brows, “the banker-looking dude at the end of the bar has been checking Susannah out for the past five minutes.” Susannah took a sip of her martini and tried not to stare down the end of the bar. She wasn’t in the mood to pick up a guy, but male attention still surprised her. Yet she wasn’t the self-doubting, insecure woman she’d been when she arrived in Amsterdam two weeks ago. She’d walked into the club tonight with her head held a little higher, and her hips swaying a little more than usual. She’d learned she was still an attractive woman. She hadn’t died with her husband. And she hadn’t sold her soul to Saucy-lito.

194

Renee Knowles

She was real, sexy, provocative and alive. Somewhere along the narrow canal streets of Amsterdam, Susannah had reclaimed her mojo. So, why haven’t you had the guts to e-mail Jack back yet? Susannah gulped and took another swig of her martini. Chelsie downed her drink in five minutes flat, and Susannah began to worry maybe her sister was still living on the edge. Chelsie must have noticed the tightening of her jaw, because she smiled. “Don’t get all ‘big sister’ on me, Suz. I’m not here to get trashed. But I need some courage.” She grabbed her arm. “Come with me.” She pulled her past the dance floor to a back corner of the club by the pay phones. “You’re going to use the phone?” Susannah asked. The music still beat loud back here. Could someone even hear to make a call? Chelsie pulled a phone card out of her tiny purse and clasped it as if it were a lifeline. “Yes, I need to call someone.” She fanned herself with the plastic card, picking up the bottom of her red silk tank and waving it under there too. “Is it hot in here?” “Not too much.” “Whew.” Chelsie pulled the hair up from her neck. “I’m sweating like crazy.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Suz. I’m nervous. I’m scared to call a man!” “You’re nervous about a guy?” Susannah was incredulous. Chelsie only nodded, her face slowly turning as red as her shirt. Her sister was so distracted, Susannah had to pull her out of the way of a leather-clad couple, before they plowed her down as they exited a back room. “Who is he?” Susannah asked after they’d walked by. “A guy I met a couple of weeks before our trip. He’s cute and nice and seems, I don’t know, real, I guess.” She blew out a long breath. “And he acted like he wanted to actually get to know me. Only I blew him off. And now, I need to set things right.” “If you’re still thinking about him, this guy must really mean something to you, Chels.” “Well, I’m not sure,” Chelsie said. “But I’m thinking that he could. And

Going Topless

195

that’s a big, fat, terrifying leap for me.” “Is it one you want to take?” Chelsie bit her lip. “Uh-huh. I do.” Susannah pointed to a phone and smiled. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it.” She sipped her drink while Chelsie s-l-o-w-l-y dialed the numbers as if she were calling the local police to turn herself in for a crime. A few seconds later she shouted to Susannah, “Two rings. I should hang up. He must not be— Oh, Richard! Hi! You’re home.” Beads of perspiration poked out on Chelsie’s forehead. “Yes. It’s Chelsie. I can imagine you’d be surprised to hear from me. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I’m in Amsterdam.” She looked at Susannah with terror in her eyes. Susannah gave her a thumbs up. “Actually, I’m at a club. That’s probably what you hear. Ah, the reason I’m calling?” She stopped and glanced nervously back over her shoulder at Susannah. “Well, er, I’m coming home on Tuesday and, uh, if you’re not busy, I was hoping we might be able to get together this weekend.” Chelsie smiled, her face relaxing and beginning to return to a more normal color. “Either day is good for me. Great! I will. Oh, and yes, I won’t forget to call this time. Promise, Richard. Talk to you then. Bye.” She slammed down the phone. “He said yes!” She took Susannah’s hands and they jumped up and down a few times, splashing some of the dirty martini onto the floor. “He said yes!” Susannah laughed. “This guy must be smokin’ to get you this excited.” Chelsie punched the air and screamed, “Yes!” two final times. A redheaded guy came over to use the phone and she nearly cuffed him in the eye. “Watch it!” he screamed, pissed off. “Sorry.” Chelsie rolled her eyes at Susannah. “Some people are so touchy,” Susannah teased as they made their way back to Mattie and Courtney. Chelsie did a double take at the bar. “Speaking of smokin’, check out the guy with Mattie.”

196

Renee Knowles

Mattie stood talking with a very tall, broad-shouldered man with long, unnaturally black hair that hung to his waist. He was hot, Susannah agreed—in a forbidden, feral, I-have-piercings-where-you-would-never-believe sort of way. “Hey guys!” Mattie’s voice rang high and unnatural. “I was wondering where you two went. I want you to meet Lance. He’s my friend.” She’d said “friend” like this Lance was so much more and yet exactly that, her friend. They both introduced themselves and Susannah couldn’t help but notice the way Lance casually draped his arm around Mattie’s shoulders and stared at her as if he wanted to lick her up. Susannah sent her a Bravo, Mattie smile. Then Chelsie screamed, “No freaking way!” She peeled Mattie’s jacket away from her shoulder. “Is that a tattoo? On your breast?” Susannah scoured the area Chelsie had exposed, but she couldn’t see anything. “Hell yeah!” Lance said. “Take off your coat, Mat. Show it off.” “That’s right, Mattie!” Courtney exclaimed. “You went through the pain. Now, reap the rewards.” Mattie glanced from Lance to Courtney and then tugged the jacket off. She wore a green v-neck underneath, and there, peeking out of the top of her left boob was a tattoo. “It’s always the quiet ones.” Susannah smiled. Although she was a little shocked, she guessed she wasn’t the only one who’d found her mojo on this trip. She winked and whispered in Mattie’s ear, “Way to go. Lance is a fox.” They ordered another round of drinks, and after they’d downed their glasses, the group pushed their way out onto the dance floor. With only one day left of her adventure, Susannah let loose, allowing the wild, thumping beat of the music to move her feet. One more round of drinks later, sweaty, tired, but having the time of her life, she even let the banker dude dance with her. When they left the club at four in the morning, several martinis swirling in her system, Susannah had only one desire. Hagen was leaving for Germany at sixthirty. They’d said goodbye already, but if she skipped the breakfast the others were getting, she might be able to make love with him one last time.

Going Topless

197

Chapter 26

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 26. Be spontaneous. Show up at his office wearing nothing more than a trench coat. Be willing to have sex in the afternoon. Mix it up. He’ll thank you for it. Monday, 5:00 am Hagen’s apartment Was she crazy? Maybe this wasn’t the right decision after all. By the time Susannah arrived at Hagen’s door, the martinis had worn off, and she was wondering if she’d made a wise choice. They’d already said goodbye. Yet she was here, and she desperately wanted to see him one more time. She adjusted her dress and knocked. No one answered. “Hagen, are you there?” she shouted, knocking again. After a third thump, he whipped the door open. “Susannah?” He looked delectable in nothing more than a snug pair of jeans, his sleek pectorals and sexy chest hair begging to be fondled. “Hey! Hi. Didn’t you hear me knocking?” “I have the stereo going while I finish packing.” He opened the door wider. “Come in. I’m surprised to see you here.” Bad surprised? she wondered. He didn’t exactly leap for joy at her arrival. Her lips ached for a kiss, but she noticed a change, a distance in him and didn’t have the courage to ask.

198

Renee Knowles

“Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?” she tried a joke, but it fell flat. “Yes.” He smiled. “Since you are staying downstairs.” Susannah threw her purse onto his couch and Hagen motioned for her to follow him into the bedroom. He turned down the Maroon 5 CD he’d been playing and pulled on a t-shirt. “No need to cover up on my account,” she said. He laughed but didn’t say anything and began placing some perfectly folded shirts and underwear into a blue canvas suitcase. Three matching pieces of luggage sat in the middle of the floor. As he kept packing, he said, “You are wearing one sexy dress. Coming back from somewhere special?” Sexy enough that you want to throw me onto the bed and have sex? “Ah, I went dancing.” He turned and ran his gaze over her. “Dancing? I bet all the men at the club wanted you. You look delicious.” That was the same word he’d used the day she’d worn her Christian Lacroix heels and they’d first made love. She swallowed, ever conscious of the fact his friend would be arriving soon to take him to Berlin. But the naked desire in his eyes urged her on. “Delicious, huh? Well, you’re more than welcome to come over here and eat me up.” God, she was turning into a hussy. She couldn’t have been plainer if she’d hiked up her skirt and spread her legs. Though she heard Hagen’s quick hiss of breath and noticed his eyes darken, he didn’t jump at the chance to take her up on her offer. He stopped packing and came over to her, so close she could feel his breath brush her cheek. But he didn’t kiss her. “Susannah, I want nothing more than to make love with you again, but—” “Hallo! Hagen!” a female voice screamed into the apartment. The front door slammed. “Hallo!” he called back. To Susannah he said, “Wait here for a moment.” Wait here my ass. There was a woman in Hagen’s apartment at five-thirty in the morning, a woman who felt comfortable enough with him to waltz right

Going Topless

199

into his place without knocking, and he thought she was going to wait here? He was one very stupid man. Susannah edged over to the door of his bedroom wanting to check the scene out. Part of the girl’s face was obscured by Hagen, but she recognized her right away. Gorgeous, sleek, red hair, fresh, no make-up face, and she was talking German faster than a New Yorker spoke English. It was the chick from the pub the first night Susannah had been in town. The one who’d kept touching Hagen and calling him over. What had he said her name was? Katherine? Kate? Katrina! That was it. “Hello.” Susannah walked into the living room, staring at Katrina. “Hallo,” the redhead said cautiously. She gave Susannah’s slinky dress a once over as if Susannah were an overdressed working girl. Katrina’s simple white ribbed tank and tight jeans showed off a slim, cheerleader-type body. Hagen whirled around. Was there guilt in his eyes? She couldn’t tell. “Susannah, this is Katrina. Katrina,” he gestured toward her, “Susannah, a friend from America.” A friend? A friend? A friend he’d made love with three times yesterday afternoon. Was this girl the reason he’d been resisting her advances this morning? “Katrina, are you a friend of his, too?” Susannah narrowed her eyes at Hagen. “I wonder how many friends you have.” She grabbed her tiny, ridiculous purse from his sofa and opened the door. “Susannah!” he called. “Where are you going?” She didn’t stop. “Well, you know what they say about three being a crowd and all that. You have someone else to keep you occupied.” She hurried out the door feeling foolish for showing up here at all. They’d had their farewell. She should’ve left it at that. As she raced down the stairs she heard Hagen come down after her. “Susannah. Please wait.” She halted, but didn’t turn around. His footsteps stalled behind her. “I know what you think. But hear me out.” Hagen’s voice was sincere, and she realized they had no claims on each other. Some of her anger was misplaced. Logically, she knew that. Only jealousy

200

Renee Knowles

wasn’t based on logic. But, he at least deserved to have her listen to him. “Okay.” She twirled to face him. “Katrina is my friend from university,” he explained. “The one who I am riding to Berlin with.” “I thought you weren’t leaving until six-thirty.” “We decided to leave early.” “She seems pretty cozy with you.” “Yes, she is. We are good friends.” Susannah smirked. That word kept creeping up. “As good friends as we’ve been?” He moved down a step until he was close enough for her to see the pain in his gaze. “It’s not like that between Katrina and me. I told you when we started this that there was no one else.” She sensed from his tone there was an unspoken “but” hanging on to the end of his sentence. “But,” she finished for him, “if there was something between you, it wouldn’t have anything to do with me anymore.” She searched his eyes. “Because we’ve already said goodbye.” He slowly nodded. “Susannah, I wanted to be with you this morning so much it hurts.” “Yet you weren’t going to make love to me.” “I could not. It was hard enough to say goodbye yesterday.” He sighed. “But it was necessary and it was final. We can’t go back.” He was right. They couldn’t. She couldn’t. And maybe she didn’t want to. “Hagen, I’m sorry for walking out. I’ll miss you.” “I will miss you, too. Very much.” Then he kissed her. A final, warm kiss. She pushed the hair back from his eyes. He had someone waiting for him. It was time to go. “Danke, Hagen. Thank you for everything.” Susannah kissed his cheek and turned back toward Courtney’s apartment, rushing away before the emotions hit her. She closed the door behind her and leaned her head against the cool wood.

Going Topless

201

A moment later, Hagen’s door closed upstairs. It was over. She let out a sigh. She would take only good memories with her. He’d helped her regain her self worth, and he’d taught her to feel again. Maybe there would one day be something between Katrina and Hagen. The redhead obviously liked him. Though Susannah wasn’t anywhere near ready to see Hagen with another woman, she did hope for the best for him. He deserved someone special. He was one hell of a man. Susannah noticed no one was home at Courtney’s yet. She was glad of it. She moved away from the door and thought about the trip back to Denver. She had a future to plan. One she wasn’t afraid to consider anymore. Her eyes lit on Courtney’s computer and she drew in a deep breath. Jack’s e-mail asking her out was still sitting in her inbox. Was he a part of her future? She wasn’t sure, but she’d like to find out. She marched to the desk and switched on the hard drive. No more dodging Jack. She had an e-mail to send.

202

Renee Knowles

Chapter 27

27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man 27. Never give up hope. Mr. Right is out there. He might be waiting for the subway train, around the corner at the coffee shop, or buying his weekly groceries, clueless as to how to pick out a fresh tomato. But he is there. You only need to believe to find him. Two weeks later, Tuesday, 4:30 pm Saucy-lito “You’re not wearing that on your date with Jack?” Chelsie screwed up her face as if she were scrutinizing a cow at auction. Not that her vegetarian sister would buy a cow, Susannah reminded herself. She checked herself out in her office mirror. “Maybe I’m not dressed as provocatively as you do for your dates with Richard. But, may I remind you this is first date. A first scary date. He’s a sweet guy. I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.” “For God’s sake, Susannah, I’m not asking you to wear a micro-mini. Just something about that doesn’t work.” Susannah was glad to see her sister was back to her same bossy self. Well, maybe she wasn’t her same self. She laughed more and was trying hard to trust again. They’d all changed on their trip. Even Mattie had decided to quit her job and use a small inheritance she’d gotten from her parents to start up her own travel agency. She’d even kept in touch with Lance. And, as he was planning on returning to the States in the fall, Susannah wouldn’t be surprised if he settled in

Going Topless

203

Denver and they became a couple. “What’s wrong with my outfit?” Susannah said to Chelsie, returning to the task at hand. She turned around in the mirror. “It’s perfectly acceptable for dinner and a ball game.” She had worn her sexy Calvin Klein’s and a black wrap top. Attractive, but not jump me material. “Well, the jeans themselves are fine, but… Turn around again.” Susannah did. “Well?” “That’s it! Your panty line shows.” Toby chose that precise moment to open the door to her office. “Oh, Lord. Panty line problems are not an intervention I want to be part of.” His teeth sparkled brightly as he smiled. Susannah playfully smacked his shoulder. “Then maybe next time you ought to knock.” But he knew she was kidding. In the time she’d been away Toby had proven himself a very reliable manager. Her office had become as much his as hers. “You’d better fix your little problem as soon as possible,” he said. “I came to tell you Jack is in the shop waiting for you. I’ll try and stall him for a few minutes.” “Oh, God. Thanks, Toby! I owe you.” “Oh, woman. You have no idea.” Toby laughed and closed the door. Susannah freaked. Jack was here and she had panty line issues. It probably looked like she had two butts back there. “What do I do?” She threw up her hands. “It’s not as if I keep an extra pair of underwear in my desk drawer.” Chelsie smiled, a slow, sly grin. “Then there’s only one solution.” No way. She couldn’t mean… “Go commando?” she squeaked out. “You got it.” Susannah bit her lip. What choice did she have? She had a sexy blue-eyed man waiting for her. “Fine. Fine.” She unbuttoned her jeans. “I want you to know this is under duress. I don’t like it one bit. I’m not the kind of girl that goes commando.” Chelsie let out a hearty laugh. “Suz, if you’re the kind of girl who goes topless, you’re definitely the kind of girl who goes sans panties.” She left, letting

204

Renee Knowles

Susannah finish her task. When Susannah had discarded her satin underwear, she checked her backside in the mirror. Yep, her butt definitely looked better. She gave herself a final inspection, wiggling a little to make sure the zipper didn’t chafe anything important. She couldn’t help but notice the circles she’d had under her eyes before her trip to Amsterdam had disappeared. A small smile tugged at her lips. She appeared strong, confident, and sexy. She walked toward her office door, her hands only a little sweaty. Chelsie was right. If Susannah could go topless, she could do just about anything. This dating thing ought to be a cinch.

GOING TOPLESS

THE END

WWW.RENEEKNOWLES.COM

AUTHOR’S BIO

Once upon a time there was a little girl who wanted to be a writer. Of course, Renee wanted to be a professional ice dancer, an Olympic gymnast, and a fashion model too. But once she learned she had no athletic aptitude and wasn't going to be six-foot tall and stick thin, her love for writing and books grew. She read anywhere and everywhere she could—including during class (especially math and science). Uh, not so good for school, but it encouraged her passion for books, opening her up to some of her favorite authors, including her all-time fave Jane Austen. But as her love for reading grew, so did her love for writing. She wrote short stories and poems, which were read out loud in class and even occasionally published. But for some reason, in her twenties she just stopped. Cold. Oh, she

dreamed about it, of course, but her life seemed too busy. Then she moved from Upstate New York to Dallas, Texas, and met the man of her dreams. A true Southern gentleman, accent and all. He asked her out. She said no. Why? She was crazy, of course! Eventually, she gave him a chance (thank God!) and a year and a half later they eloped while on vacation in Colorado. She's been with him for ten years, and he's truly her hero. Her desire for writing returned, especially stories of love and personal journeys, and now she can't imagine doing anything else. Renee lives in Northern Colorado with her husband and a view of the Rocky Mountains out of her window. (How cool is that?) Renee has traveled all over the world, living in both Europe and Asia. She has also visited Amsterdam twice, the setting for her debut book, Going Topless. Her favorite place to travel to is Italy, and her dream is to own a vacation home there. Visit Renee at www.reneeknowles.com.

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com