Sharon's Journey, Part 3 - Un Bel Di free porn video

Sharon's Journey Part III - Un Bel Di The news that Lionel wanted to have an evening with Sharon seemed at first a lark, then a curiosity and finally, a concern. Jocelyn had attempted to joke around it, but in his languid way, he had been insistent. She had finally told him that it would be up to Sharon. "But why me?" Sharon asked when Jocelyn told her. "Ever since that day last December that he gave us the ride home, he's always had a think for you. I always assumed it was the fact that there is something very precious about you - it's one of the things I love so much about you." "But now you're not sure?" Jocelyn shook her head. "So, what do I do?" Jocelyn thought about it for a long time. If Lionel's interference couldn't help her in her job search, it couldn't hurt, either, could it? Of course, that wasn't necessarily true - a casual comment couldn't necessarily lead to an interview, but it could taint the interviewer's perceptions. On top of everything else, she was getting her period. Not only did she feel cramped and bloated, she felt the resentment of being passed over at her own company raging through her. She had to hold on tightly not to react too emotionally. "You don't do anything you don't want to do, and you don't refuse to do anything you want to do," she said at last. Sharon came and sat down next to her on the sofa, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I know," Sharon said. "I love you." "I love you, too, my darling." Sharon had sold two short stories in the past month and was now working on a third. As often happened when she was writing, she was "in the zone": words seemed to flow from her as if from a river, and she was buoyed up with the elation that always brought. She therefore ignored the phone when it began to ring, letting it go instead to the machine. "Hi," she heard Jocelyn's recorded voice say. "We're not available at the moment, but if you leave your name and number, we'll be glad to get back to you if we deem you worthy of our attention." "Good afternoon, sweet Sharon," she heard Lionel's voice purr. "I don't wish to interrupt your creative genius, but I would love to speak with you for just a few moments. Please do return my call." She paused. Should she call him back? She decided not to, both because she didn't want to take a break from writing and because she did not want to appear too anxious to talk to him. She turned back with eager expectation to the computer to resume her story. What was it she was about to write? Oh, yes, it was... It wouldn't come. It was on the edge of her mind, but she could not quite recapture what it was she had been about to type. She went back and re-read the story from the beginning, and still it would not come. In a small dish on the mantle was the key to the gate of the park, which was kept locked at all times so that only those with a right to use it would have access. She took the key and went outside for a brief turn around the park. The early September air was still warm with summer, but gently so, and she enjoyed the breeze that brushed back her hair. "Hi, Mr. Bartlett," she said to the elderly gentleman who had just tipped his cap, as he always did when he saw her. He was sitting on the first bench, doing the New York Times Crossword Puzzle. As she passed, she could feel his gaze lingering on her butt and her tight, short white shorts. A few mothers were here and there with their infants and toddlers. An occasional cry or squeal of joy would pierce the air, but mostly the park was quiet, almost serene, a sweet oasis in the tumultuous city. She had just decided she would take a second turn around the park when she saw Julie coming her way. "I didn't want to call you," she said, "'cause I know you're writing. But I thought I'd take a chance on catching you out here." "I'm stuck," Sharon replied. "So I figured. Wanna go get a latte? My treat." They exited through the Lexington Avenue gate and walked along 21st Street until they came to a little coffee shop. Julie suggested a large latte, but Sharon went, as always, with unsweetened ice tea. "You're good," Julie said as they sat down at one of the small tables. "I should follow your example. I've gained back five of the pounds I lost after I had Megan." A familiar voice called out to them, and they were joined by Amber Bennett, a friend of Julie's whom Sharon had met before. Amber was 26 and had a little boy, Jason, the same age as Megan. She had long, straight ash blonde hair that she kept pulled back and up in a sloppy bun with a large banana clip. "Hi, ladies," she said as she sat down with a regular coffee. Sharon couldn't help but notice that the Yankees tee shirt she wore was small on her, revealing a little of her trim middle, complete with navel ring, and accentuating her pert breasts. She had said more than once in Sharon's hearing, "I'm a trophy wife and proud of it!" "Isn't this civilized? I cannot believe how wonderful it feels to get my life back, if only for half a day at a time." Julie nodded, and Amber laughed. "Still with the separation anxiety, huh? I bet Megan got over it fast." "Jack thinks I'm being silly." "But he doesn't mind," Sharon said. "It's part of what he loves about you." Julie smiled and touched Julie's hand, and Amber gave her a warm smile as well. "That's very perceptive of you," Amber said. "Is it like that with you...and your relationship? If you don't mind me asking, that is." "I don't mind," Sharon replied. It wasn't the first time that Amber had been curious about her relationship with Jocelyn. "It is very much like that with Jocelyn and me - each of us loves the other, and there are a few things in particular that seem to drive that." "What I meant," Amber said, "was if there was something that your...partner..." "Jocelyn," Sharon said with a smile. "Yes, Jocelyn...is there something that Jocelyn finds to be silly about you but endearing at the same time?" "I get anxious about things, sometimes, and she thinks of me as 'precious'. I'm not exactly sure what she means by that, but..." "I do," Julie said with a smile. "And I think you are. Precious, that is." "Well," Amber went on, "I just want to enjoy these mornings while I can. Frank wants to have another baby. I don't know why. After all, he has two from his first marriage." "And how are your step-children?" Sharon asked. Amber smiled. "Somehow, I can't get used to being a stepmother. I mean, I don't have warts on my nose and I'm not particularly evil. Not that those two little darlings would agree with that. "Kyle is now thirteen, and I swear he checks me out every time I see him. There's something creepy about him. KC is eleven, a Brittany Spears wannabee. They both run roughshod over Frank." "Maybe that's why he wants more children with you," Julie said. "He trusts you as a mother." Amber laughed at that. They finished their drinks and left, and Sharon went back to the apartment and her writing. She had just sat down when the phone rang again. When she heard Lionel's voice, she decided to pick up this time. "Ah! So you decided to talk to me after all!" he began, putting her on the defensive. He then mentioned that he had two tickets to the Metropolitan Opera's performance of "Madame Butterfly" a week from that Saturday and hoped she would join him. "I understand that you have made this a condition of helping Jocelyn," Sharon said after a pause. Lionel chuckled. "No, my sweet; I have already given what assistance I can to your wonderful lover. I asked for an evening with you as a kind of return favor, but it was not a condition. If that is what has put you ill at ease, then I apologize most sincerely." They sparred briefly, and then Sharon said what was foremost in her mind - that she loved Jocelyn, was irrevocably committed to her, and therefore she could not understand why Lionel, who knew this, would continue to pursue her. "I guess it must be puzzling from your perspective," he said at last. "But the truth is that I have a few reasons, none of which are likely to come across coherently in a phone call. I can only promise you that if you accept my invitation, I will tell all." "A quid pro quo," she said, darkly. "If you like. Most of life is, isn't it?" She didn't like that idea, and she didn't like the way in which Lionel had framed it. She paused to think about it, having decided that if he pressed her any further at this point, it would signal an evil intent and she would refuse. But he said nothing, and in the end, she agreed. "No, it's perfectly all right with me," Jocelyn assured her over dinner that night. She hugged Sharon to let her know she meant it, even if her words were still brittle because of her period. "I just hope you're not doing this because you feel you have to." Sharon explained that, no, she didn't feel like that anymore. Then she asked how the job-hunting was going. Jack Mumford had come up with a splendid lead on an open CFO position, and two of Lionel's suggestions had borne fruit upon Jocelyn's initial inquiries. One had resulted in a conversation in which the HR person asked how Jocelyn had heard about a position that they had not even made public, yet. "A friend of mine told me," Jocelyn had replied. "I'm not at liberty to say whom." Within days, she was invited to interview for the CFO position. Sharon got up early that morning to make a nice breakfast, and she smiled when Jocelyn presented herself that morning. She wore a perfectly tailored navy blue skirt suit, a white chiffon blouse with a white silk cami underneath, a pearl choker that Sharon had given her for her birthday, tan pantyhose and navy blue pumps with a thin, 3" heel. "Perfect," Sharon said. "All business with just a little hint of sexy." After morning tea with Julie, she sat down to finish her short story. She had finally, after a few days, remembered what she had wanted to write, and she was able to finish it up that morning. When Jocelyn returned home that night, she was cautiously optimistic at how the interview had gone, but two days later, Jack called and told her that his friend at the company had said that, while her experience was impressive, they were just too afraid in the current regulatory climate to hire someone as CFO who didn't already have experience at that level. The following Monday, the company who had been so impressed with her timing called. They wanted her to come in for an interview for a position of Vice President of Finance. The interview was scheduled for the end of the week. In the meantime, Sharon went shopping for a dress for her night out at the opera. She picked out a lovely black jersey ruched dress with a lace-trimmed sweetheart neck. It was comfortably snug on her when she tried it on and the hem came to just above her knee. On Saturday, Jocelyn insisted she borrow the pearl choker, and a pair of pearl earrings to go with it. She already had a pair of black dress sandals with a 4" heel, and she opted for tan pantyhose with a hint of sparkle. She sprayed perfume into the air in front of her and leaned into it briefly, for just a hint of the scent. Lionel was cordial when he arrived, genuinely pleased with Jocelyn's prospects. When Sharon came out from the bedroom, he gasped and said, "Oh, my!" She and Jocelyn embraced and held one another, and then she left with Lionel. His limousine was waiting outside. "I hope you don't mind a late supper after the performance rather than a dinner before. But I have a place in mind that is very crowded during the dinner rush, but much different later on." "No, that's fine." He was as light and charming as ever, and they flitted from one topic to another, from the state of opera to the state of the nation. He was particularly anxious to see this performance of "Madame Butterfly", as he had heard a great deal about the lead, a woman from China with a golden voice. She was not surprised to find that when they got to the opera house, Lionel's friends were legion. Most were his age, and so the women were older than she and regarded her with a critical eye. Two of his male friends undressed her with their eyes while making polite conversation, which unnerved her. He took her arm and guided her up the flight of thick carpeted stairs to the second tier, where he had to seats in the front row of the first box. She followed with ease the story of the Japanese geisha and the American naval officer, Pinkerton, who enters into a marriage with her and then leaves, later renouncing it. And in the second act, when Madame Butterfly sang the opera's most famous aria, "Un Bel Di", describing in detail her vision of Pinkerton's return, how she'll see his ship in the harbor, how he'll climb the hill and it will be so perfect between them, Sharon, knowing that there would be no such homecoming, unobtrusively reached into her clutch purse and took out a tissue, dabbing her eyes and praying her mascara wouldn't run. Lionel's arm resting on her shoulder felt comforting. Finally, Pinkerton does return, with an American wife and child, and Madame Butterfly kills herself. Sharon didn't cry, then, because the pain was in the heroine's expectation. Her death seemed, by comparison, almost a relief. Lionel was solicitous as he escorted her back down the stairs to the lobby. He touched her back as he guided her through the crowd, and she had to admit that she liked the attention. His driver was waiting at the foot of the long steps on Columbus Avenue, and held the door for her as she slid into the back seat. "Outstanding performance, didn't you think?" he asked as the driver sped down to 23rd Street. "Where are we going?" she asked. "It's a surprise." She was indeed surprised when they pulled into the marina on the East River, and even more surprised when they boarded a ferry. As it pulled out into the river, she could feel the breeze intensify, sweeping her hair back, away from her face. Many of the other women were going inside the ferry, but she wanted to stay out on deck. The ferry turned upriver and crossed over to the other side, until it docked next to a restaurant in Long Island City. Lionel slipped his arm around her waist as they stepped down the gentle slope of the gangway. By the time they reached the pier, he had let it slip away. They were seated almost immediately, as there had been few diners on the ferry this late. The restaurant itself was only about half full, and Lionel had been able to get a table looking out over the water. There, she could look across at the Manhattan night skyline, dazzling and majestic. "Would you like to choose the wine, or should I?" he asked. "Oh, by all means," she said, gesturing to him. He ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio. When the waiter poured it, Lionel tasted it, if a little self-consciously, but then they both had some and it was fine. "One fine day," he said. She looked at him questioningly, and he chuckled. "The aria, 'Un Bel Di'," he explained. "That's what it means - one fine day." "Her vision of Pinkerton's return," she said, softly. "Yes. The return will be perfect, and the day will be perfect. It just has to be. "But of course, it never is. We dream of those perfect moments, those perfect days, and either they never happen or, when they do, they are very different than we expect." The appetizers came - for Sharon, an endive salad, and for Lionel, shrimp cocktail. "Why do I get the feeling that you are trying to make a point?" she asked. He laughed and took a sip of wine. It wasn't until later that he took up her question. "One fine day," he said, "I'll escort the girl of my dreams on an evening that will be so refined, so perfect. The soprano at the opera will be young and talented, with a voice like silk. The girl will look more enchanting than all the princesses in all the royal weddings in all the world, and she will do so with taste and style to put anyone else to shame. "I'll surprise her, even with my reputation for dazzling evenings, with a romantic dinner in a breathtaking setting, and she will reward me by looking lovelier and being sweeter than all the other women I have ever known. Every time I look across the table at her, I'll see those eyes, the pearls, the gorgeous black dress; even her hair, windblown from the ferry, will look so right, the one thing a little wild in an otherwise impeccable picture, and therefore rendering the entire image as perfection." She blushed, staring down at her plate. But then she looked up and met his gaze. "Lionel, I..." "I envisioned all of this right after I dropped you and Jocelyn off at your home that first day," he went on. "I knew your hair would be long and lustrous. I knew you would wear pearls. I knew you would have the gentle sweet scent of a goddess. "I knew that, for just one evening, you would be my perfect woman. And you have been." He paid the check, and they left in time to catch the last ferry back to Manhattan. They stood at the bow of the ferry, the wind rushing through her hair, he with his arm firmly around her waist, she with her head against his shoulder. It wasn't until they were back in the limousine that she spoke. "Lionel, this has been the most magnificent evening," she said. "It really has been like something out of a fairy tale. But I can't let you think I'm your perfect woman, because I'm not." "I know you love Jocelyn," he said. "Believe me, my intention was never to pull the two of you apart. You are a sumptuously beautiful couple. "But you would have been perfect for me, in ways you may never understand, and that is why I so wanted you to have a fairy tale evening. Think of it as the senior prom you never had." Sharon looked at him and blinked. "I had a senior prom." "Not like this. Not looking like you do tonight." They had pulled to a stop on Gramercy Park West. He was smiling at her. Terror stabbed at her heart. How could he have known? "So lovely," he said, the smile having turned sad. With his finger, he gently stroked the front of her throat. "It's so small, and you are so lovely, one doesn't notice it. I only did because I looked, closely, almost desperately, once you were in my car; my first glimpse of you, coming out of that lingerie boutique, was of a slightly boyish looking girl, and I was hoping you might be that rare lovely feminine creature who happens to have...an Adam's apple. "Please don't look like that, Sharon. I will always wish you were mine, but I know you cannot be. Please believe me when I tell you that I only wanted to experience this one night, and wanted it with you as well. And I only told you what I know so that you would not misconstrue my motive. "I will never tell a soul, and in fact I will never again mention it to you. I pray we will remain friends." He escorted her to the door. He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. "Goodnight, sweet princess." Jocelyn smiled when Sharon repeated the story of her evening with Lionel, which she did as she removed her makeup, took a bubble bath, slipped into an ivory peignoir and nestled next to her lover in bed. "It sounds to me like very definitely a fairy tale evening," she said. "I'm surprised you came home." Sharon looked hurt, and Jocelyn immediately added, "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that it had to be delightful, being charmed and wooed like that." "Well, yeah, I have to admit it was." "Then take it at face value and cherish the memory...kind of like the senior prom that Sharon never had." Sharon giggled at that, then settled in to cuddle until they fell asleep. Jocelyn got a call two nights later, inviting her back for a second interview for the Senior Vice President position. It would be a full day with different members of the company's senior management. She scheduled a day off from her job and, the night before, Sharon helped her lay out her clothes for the big day. It was a gray suit instead of the navy blue, a pink blouse instead of the white, black patent leather pumps instead of the blue, with a slightly lower, slightly thicker heel. The next morning, as Jocelyn dressed, Sharon insisted she include perfume, very lightly, and she did. "I'll call you if I get the chance," Jocelyn said before she left. "At least it's a financial firm in midtown on the east side, so I know I'll be home at a reasonable time." "I like this job better already," Sharon said as she kissed her goodbye. "Don't worry about calling - go with the flow. I'll have a nice dinner waiting when you get home." Julie came over after Megan had gone to pre-K. "Oh, my God!" she said after one look at Sharon. "You're a complete wreck. Come on!" She dragged her to their favorite latte shop, and found Amber already there with another woman, Karen. Karen was also in her late 20s, with a 6 year old daughter and a 5 year old son. "What happened to you?" Amber asked Sharon as they sat down. "Jocelyn has a job interview today," Julie said. "It's the second interview, and Sharon's a nervous wreck." "I can see that," Amber said with a chuckle. "I just know that it means so much to her," Sharon said. "Hey," Amber laughed, "we all know the feeling. Our husbands have put us through this wringer plenty of times. All except Julie's. Jack's steady as a rock." "So's Jocelyn," Sharon said, just a little defensively. "For you, yes," Julie replied. "But I think Amber means that Jocelyn is still climbing the mountain, where Jack has gone as far as he wants to. But I think that's also because of the difference in how they do their work. A lot of Jocelyn's stature is the position she holds in the organization, unlike Jack, who's just a partner." "Uh huh," Karen said. "Like Ryan. I think Jocelyn's several years younger than he is, because he's 42, but Ryan is still charging up the mountain and so is she. And Ryan won't be satisfied with anything less than CEO." "What about Jocelyn?" Amber asked. "I don't know," Sharon replied. "She really has her heart set on CFO. I kind of hope she's satisfied when she gets there." "I don't with Ryan," Karen said with a naughty smile. "The harder he's battling at the office, the hornier he is when he gets home. I've told him that I always know when he cheats on me because he's not as driven in bed." "You mean 'if' he cheats, don't you?" Julie asked. "No, I mean 'when'. Once or twice a year, he goes off the reservation. If I get pissed enough at him, I do, too. If he comes home late one night and finds the sitter, he knows he's crossed the line." "Unless he decides that the sitter is next," Amber said. "Not with my sitter. She'd give him a hard shot to the nuts if he ever tried anything with her. Sharon would be more her speed." They all giggled, and it took Sharon a moment to catch the meaning. Then she laughed, too. Amber patted her hand. "It'll be okay," she said. "We've got your back." Sharon did have a lovely dinner, including a nice wine, waiting when Jocelyn walked in at 5:30 that evening, looking a bit drained but otherwise happy. The sessions had gone well, so well that one might have actually regarded them as part interview, part orientation. They were sipping wine when the phone rang. Sharon answered it. "Hi, there," Lionel said. "Hi," she said, shyly. "Is your better half there? A little birdie has whispered to me that she had a helluva day." Jocelyn got on and listened while she heard Lionel's scouting report. When she got off the phone, she said, "I think it's looking really good." Lionel's scouting report proved correct when Jocelyn got the formal offer a few days later: base salary of $300,000 per year, plus bonus, deferred comp, a generous matching percentage on the pension plan, six weeks vacation and health coverage that would include her domestic partner as a dependent. "The thing is," Jocelyn explained, "I'll have to travel, about a week every month. Most of the back office operation is in North Carolina, and they have offices in Dallas, Denver and Chicago, with a major investment office in California. I'll be overseeing all of the accounting operations, not just corporate, and I'll have responsibility for part of the investment portfolio. I'll be working hand in hand with the Chief Investment Officer." "It's perfect for you!" Sharon said. "It's your dream job." "I'm afraid for us. I'm afraid I'll be leaving you for too much of the time." Sharon waved her away. "It'll give me time to write. And I've got my girlfriends now, too. They all have spouses in high powered jobs, so they'll be my network, my backup." Jocelyn's eyes began to tear. "I love you so much!" she gasped, and Sharon flew into her arms. "I love you, too. Now, take me to bed." When Jocelyn accepted the position, she stipulated that she wanted to wait five weeks to report. She wanted to give her current employer three weeks notice, and she wanted to take Sharon on a cruise. Her new employer was glad to comply. "What am I going to do about swimsuits?!" Sharon asked in a panic. But Jocelyn assured her that swimsuits, even bikinis, were made to be extra firm around the place she was most concerned about. And when they both inspected her progress in front of the mirror Saturday morning, they agreed that the results were better than expected: on top, she was well on her way to becoming a full B-cup, and on the bottom, unless fully erect, her little nub was delightfully unobtrusive. They decided on a couple of nice one-piece suits for her that were firm on the bottom and which had a little flared skirt. Sharon also bought a couple of bikinis that seemed to cover her nicely. "If I get shy, I can always wear short shorts on the bottom and the bikini top," she said. She hesitated before packing the black dress she'd worn on her date with Lionel, but Jocelyn insisted. After all, there would be one formal night on the seven day cruise, and she wanted to look her best. Sharon agreed and suggested a rather racy dress in cobalt blue with a plunging neckline in back, a tight black sash around the waist and a short flared skirt. They stopped at the lingerie boutique to pick out some very daring little numbers. Sharon's favorite was the pair of babydoll negligees in see-though black that only closed across the breasts with a dainty little ribbon tie, with crotchless lace panties. "That's a little daring, even for us," Sharon said with a giggle. "You must remember the three basic things that cruises are good for: sun, relaxation and sex, not necessarily in that order." Since it was early November, they decided to fly down to Florida two days before the ship sailed. The morning they were to leave, Sharon ran to the local pharmacy to pick up some sun block, and she ran into Karen. "Oh, I wish I could go with you!" she sighed. "Problems?" "Ryan's on the prowl again. This time, it's only been a couple of months. I think I need to do something to shock him." "Have you ever talked to him about this?" Sharon asked. "I tried a couple of times. Non-starter. Nah, he needs to be hit over the head with it. Think you and Jocelyn would be interested in a three- way?" Sharon's jaw dropped. "Jesus, Sharon, I was only kidding. Well, only somewhat, I guess. I know that you and Jocelyn have something special, and I know you're not the wild kind of girl. But I think that if I had a girlfriend - or two - that might really shake him up. Well, you two have a great time." On the way out to the airport, Sharon relayed the conversation to Jocelyn. "Wow, you really have a little 'Real Housewives of Gramercy Park' going, don't you?" Jocelyn said with a laugh. "No, I'm only teasing. I'm really glad you have a circle of friends. Although you may want to be a little careful with Karen; many a truth is said in jest." It wasn't until the plane had taken off and they were jetting southward that Sharon turned to Jocelyn and asked, softly so as not to be overheard, "Do you really think of me as a housewife?" "I didn't mean it in a derogative way. You do a lot more than just keep house. I'm really proud of what you do." "But you really do think of me as a...wife?" Jocelyn took her hand and squeezed it. "Of course I do. I love you." When they had checked into their room that night, with a view of the ocean, Sharon was standing at the window looking out when Jocelyn came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her bare waist from behind. Sharon leaned back against her and, realizing Jocelyn was naked, purred with delight. "I want to fuck you," Jocelyn breathed. Sharon spun teasingly away from her. "Yeah, but I think it will be way better if we wait till tomorrow, when we're on board ship." They boarded the ship shortly after boarding began. Sharon hadn't realized that Jocelyn had gotten them a junior suite, and she was thrilled at all the room. "I figured we'd need a suite just to have enough closet space," Jocelyn joked. They had lunch first, then they were able to go to the room. It wouldn't be until after they sailed that their luggage was brought up, so they decided to explore the ship. It was huge, 140,000 tons with a gigantic central promenade in the middle, where all the shops were located. They confirmed that they were in the second sitting for dinner, but could not find out with whom they might be sitting. They went up on deck for the sailing, and Sharon had her very first Bahama Mama. "I could get to like these," she said, and Jocelyn laughed. They watched happily as the big ship slipped out of the harbor at Ft. Lauderdale and headed for the open sea. Then they decided to go to their cabin and dress for dinner. Jocelyn decided on white slacks, a mauve blouse and white espadrilles, while Sharon wore a yellow sun dress and white sandals with a 2" heel. She also made sure her toenails were freshly polished, a bright red. As they dressed, they reached out to touch or kiss one another whenever they had the chance. The dining room was lovely, and Sharon wondered who they would be dining with, if anyone. She was hoping it would be just the two of them. But as the hostess turned a corner, there was a table with a man, a woman and a teenage girl, and she knew with a sinking heart that was theirs. The husband stood up as they approached and smiled, while his daughter didn't look up from the menu and his wife fixed them with a suspicious gaze. "Good evening, ladies," he said, sitting down as they did. "I'm Warren Casey; this is my wife, Anna and our daughter, Felicia." "I'm Jocelyn, and this is Sharon." "Nice to meet you," Sharon said. "Hi," Anna said, evenly. Warren was an architect, while Anna was a real estate agent. They lived in Glen Rock, New Jersey. Felicia was fourteen, a freshman in high school. "Getting away from school for a week," Sharon said. "Sounds like a good deal to me." Felicia gave a tepid smile, but Anna replied, "Felicia has definite schoolwork to do. Don't you?" "Yes, ma'am," Felicia said, sourly. "Well, I hope you have some fun," Sharon said. "Timing couldn't be helped," Warren said. "I just had a major contract to finish, and it ran two months over. We were supposed to do this in August." "Bad enough we had to put it off that long," Anna said. "I wasn't going to wait another whole year!" "Besides," Sharon said, "I'm sure there will be lots to learn. I find it's always fun meeting new people." "So," Warren said. "What do you two do?" "I'm about to start a new job as a Sr. Vice President of Finance," Jocelyn replied. "And Sharon's a writer." "A real writer?" Felicia asked with real interest. "Real enough," Sharon replied after pausing to order a bottle of wine, which Jocelyn immediately suggested the Caseys share with them. "I've had three short stories published in the past six months, so I guess I can say that I'm published. I've got some ideas for a novel, and that's one of the things I'm going to do work on while we're on this trip." "Three short stories; that doesn't sound very lucrative," Anna said. "It's good for a beginner," Sharon replied. "Yes, but it makes it hard to support yourself." "I'm sure we don't need to know all that," Warren said easily. "Is this your first cruise?" "My first," Sharon said, taking a sip of wine. "My third, although my first in several years," Jocelyn said. "This wine is quite good," Warren put in. "Oh, Sharon knows her wines! She's an expert." "Not really," Sharon said, blushing a little. "Yes, really. And she's wonderful cook, as well." "So, if writing doesn't work out, you can become a chef," Anna suggested. Sharon gave her standard answer of not wanting to cook as a job, only cooking for people she cares for. Anna shot an alarmed glance at her husband. Warren told of a trip that he and Anna had taken to Northern Italy several years earlier, and had them all laughing about an incident in Tuscany, when the hotel they were staying in experienced a power failure. Jocelyn responded by talking about the terrible time she'd had three years earlier when she lost her passport in Paris. "That must have been scary," Felicia said to Sharon. "I guess so," she replied. "I wasn't there. Jocelyn and I weren't together...on that trip." Sharon hoped that her recovery had been quick enough, but Anna's piercing gaze told her it hadn't been. Warren shifted uncomfortably and tried to change the subject, but it only increased everyone's discomfort. "Don't forget, folks," the waiter said when he came by with their main courses. "Tonight's the big Mardi Gras parade on the Promenade." "Are you going?" Felicia asked Sharon. "I'm sure that Sharon and Jocelyn have plans of their own," Anna put in. "You may come with us, Felicia." "Oh, that's all right," Sharon said. "No, it isn't. Felicia is young and impressionable, and I am not about to allow her to go off with grown women she hardly knows." There was a moment of stunned silence. "I think, my dear," Warren said at last, "Sharon meant that it would be all right by Jocelyn and her." Sharon was about to say something when she felt Jocelyn's knee against hers under the table, and she decided to say nothing. The meal concluded in stony silence. "Can I show you our desert menu for this evening?" the waiter said as the main course dishes were cleared away. "None for me, thanks," Jocelyn said as she stood up. "Not for me, either," Sharon added, joining her. "But don't let that stop you folks. You can have ours, if you like. Good night." On their way out, Jocelyn asked one of the waiters where she could find the maitre d', and she was directed to Maurice, a wiry fellow with a thin moustache. Maurice smiled as she asked, as tactfully as possible, to be moved to another table for the following night. "It isn't a problem, provided you don't mind sitting with someone else. I'm afraid I don't have tables for two available. But if you let me have your names and room number, I will have a message delivered to your room tomorrow morning." Once back in their room, Jocelyn locked the door and undressed in seconds. Then she helped Sharon finish the job. "Come, it's time to wash up together." "But there's hardly room in that shower stall for one," Sharon protested. Jocelyn replied with an evil leer and pulled her inside. The following evening, after a day of sun, a little Jacuzzi and an afternoon cuddle-and-snooze, they had the captain's cocktail reception in the promenade. Jocelyn finished off the cobalt blue dress with sheer black stockings and silver high heel sandals, while Sharon reprised her look from her opera date with Lionel with the sparkling stockings. "Good," Jocelyn said. "I felt I got gypped that night, only seeing you for a few minutes." They decided to go down early so they could have photos taken. The photographer took one of them each, individually, one of them together in a standard pose and one of Sharon leaning back against Jocelyn, who held her around the waist. It was while they were in this pose that Anna Casey walked by and shot them a malignant glare. "You really have to wonder what her problem is," Sharon said after they had thanked the photographer. "Maybe she's fighting the itch," Jocelyn said with a chuckle. After the cocktail hour, they made their way to their new dining room. Maurice himself was on duty, and nodded appreciatively as he took them both in with a gaze. Sharon smiled as they followed him, but then she saw the table for four with two men already seated. "Oh, no," she murmured to Jocelyn. The two men, both in tuxedos, stood as they realized the girls were to be seated at their table and each held a chair as they sat down. Since the two men had been sitting across from one another, Jocelyn sat next to one and Sharon sat next to the other. "Oh, thank you," Jocelyn said, and Sharon echoed her. "Thank you both, for brightening up our evening," said the man sitting next to Jocelyn. "My name is Rod, and this is George." "I'm Jocelyn and this is Sharon." "Well, I must say," Rod said, "you both look absolutely stunning." "Thank you," Sharon said, her breath momentarily taken away. "Oh, now," George said, turning to Sharon. "Don't tell me you've never been told that before." "Not like that." "Well," Rod said, "I'm very glad you've joined us. One of the things we like about cruising is meeting interesting people. It was a little dull, just the two of us last night." "I wish I could say the same for us," Sharon said. She told them a little of their experience with the Caseys. "I know who you mean," George said. "Short woman, sharp features, wears her hair in kind of a bobbed cut? I saw her today by the pool, and my first thought was, 'Oh, good. The wicked witch of the west is with us on this trip!'" Sharon laughed out loud and then quickly covered her mouth and then tried to mutter an apology. "Oh, don't apologize," Rod said with a smirk. "You keep laughing at his jokes and you'll make George's night." Rod and George were from New York, too. They shared an apartment on 74th Street and West End Avenue. When Jocelyn said that she and Sharon had a place at Gramercy Park, George put down his fork and said, "Is that or is that not the single most beautiful spot in the entire city?" "I think so," Sharon said. Rod ran a small firm that worked in theatrical productions while George owned a women's boutique shop at the South Street Seaport. "I know," George said. "It's terrible how we've turned every available square inch in this city into retail space. I feel like I'm helping to kill my city..." "But you do it, nevertheless," Rod teased him. George shrugged. "One must eat." They were at the desert course before they knew it. Sharon saw key lime pie on the menu and decided to indulge herself. "I'll deal with the calories tomorrow," she said with a laugh. "I have a better idea," George said. "Deal with them tonight. The DJ in the dance club is awesome, but no one got up last night to dance. I'll bet you both look devastating on the dance floor." "Well..." Sharon started, but then froze. George turned and smiled at her. "May I be blunt?" he asked softly. "I think it's safe to say that neither of you is looking for Mr. Right. As it happens, we both found him years ago. But we do both love to dance, and I can't think of more charming partners than the two of you." "Besides," Rod added with a smirk. "Think how you'll confuse the wicked witch." For the rest of the cruise, they were a foursome, with Rod escorting Jocelyn and George escorting Sharon. They danced that first night until the club closed at 2:00. They took ballroom dancing lessons the next morning at 10:00 and again in the afternoon at 1:00, and that night went to the ballroom dance club instead of the disco, and it was there that the girls discovered that Rod and George had far more ballroom dance experience than they had let on. "I feel like I have two left feet," Sharon confessed as George maneuvered her through a fox trot. "You are the picture of grace. Also, a very fast learner." In Puerto Rico, their first stop, they toured Old San Juan together. In St. Thomas, they lounged on the beach and watched the herons take turns diving for fish. In St. Maarten, they went snorkeling together, and George lifted Sharon back into the boat when she got tired swimming against the current. "You know," Jocelyn said the last night on board over dinner, "I want to thank you both. This has been the most wonderful vacation, and it's because you've both been the most gallant and dashing hosts. I feel like I'm completely ready to take on a new job." "Senior Vice President," Rod intoned. "I'm overwhelmed with awe." "I just hope," George added, "that we will continue to be friends when we get back to New York. Because we've enjoyed this week every bit as much as you have, especially me, being able to escort Little Miss Flirt, here." "I'm not a flirt," Sharon protested. "Oh, yes you are," Rod replied, and Jocelyn laughed out loud. Sharon took a sip of wine and smiled. "Un bel di," she whispered softly, and Jocelyn slipped her stockinged foot out of her high heel pump under the table and teasingly rubbed against Sharon's stockinged leg.