Sugar and Spice: A Karma Café Novella (3 page)

“Kinda like being caught with your hand in the cookie jar, isn’t it?” Anja laughed.

Dedra’s lips didn’t even twitch.

She gave Anja a long look, instead.  Then her eyes shifted to the gilt-framed poster on the far wall.  A little faded from years of exposure to the afternoon sun, it featured a much younger photo of Anja and Natalia, proclaiming
See Your Future, Control Your Destiny: Magical Readings
.

“You want a reading?” Anja guessed, eyes widening in surprise.  She’d offered plenty of times, but being a practical, head firmly on her shoulders kind of gal, Dedra had never expressed interest before.

“Maybe.  I mean, they’re more for entertainment than anything else, right?   It’s not like you read minds.”  She added a stiff smile to the words to take away the sting.

Anja wasn’t offended, though.  She was just as used to that as she was the shocked amazement when people got their first reading.

“So what’s the topic?  The move?  Your new job?  The wild exploits of your soon-to-be ex-boss?”

Aha
.  Dedra’s fork pierced the cake with enough force to send crumbs flying across the table.  That, and the frustrated look in her eyes was all Anja needed to confirm what she’d long suspected.

Dedra had a thing for her boss.

Big time.

“Just a general look at life,” Dedra prevaricated, not meeting Anja’s eyes as she swept the scattered crumbs into a tidy pile.  “You can do that, can’t you?”

“Sure.  I can read anything,” Anja assured her, giving a dramatic toss of her pitch black curls.  Not that having a good hair day made a speck of difference when it came to the Tarot.  But it didn’t hurt the ole confidence levels, and confidence—in Tarot and in life—was everything.

Something it might not hurt Dedra to learn.

“Let’s go,” Anja decided, getting to her feet and pulling Dedra with her.  “Before my mother comes out and tries to convince you that an astrological reading is more accurate than the cards.”

Dedra’s practical feet wanted to dig into the worn tile floor in protest.

What was she doing?

A Tarot reading, for crying out loud?

It was a foolish idea.  She’d just been trying to drown her woes in a brownie, not try something crazy.  But the lure of making her dreams come true, even though she knew it was all a hokey game and couldn’t be real...  It was so tempting.

Dedra gave the poster another nervous glance, then thought of Paul, upstairs probably flipping through the Kama Sutra deciding what positions would be the most fun on his honeymoon.

Hokey or not, she’d take whatever she could to help get over this stupid crush and get on with her life.

“I appreciate this,” she said, only half-lying.

Hooked now, she followed Anja up the stairs without another protest.  And if she tiptoed when they reached the landing so Paul wouldn’t hear her, well, so what?

She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Just because she’d told him she had to leave, and was sneaking back.  And because she was seeking woo-woo advice on how to either get over him, the party line.  Or her secret wish, to make her dream—which was him, naked—come true.  Or just come.  Nothing wrong with that.  Nor was there anything wrong with a practical, intelligent woman listening to advice a modern-day gypsy found on pieces of prettily-colored cardboard.

Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d feel like less of an idiot.

Idiot or not, she still gaped when she stepped through Anja’s door.  And she’d thought the other apartment was colorful?  This was like stepping into a kaleidoscope.  Vivid purples and teals with a splash of orange or lime here and there should have made the space overwhelming.  But paired with airy white furniture and all the wide-open windows, it was warm and fun.

“Have a seat, and we’ll see what we see.”  Anja gestured to the white wicker—couch suspended from the ceiling like a swing.  “Have you ever had a reading before?”

Since reading the future fell into the same category as riding unicorns in Dedra’s mind she could only shake her head.  Gingerly, wondering how well the chains were secured, she lowered herself onto the couch.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” she gasped as it gently swayed.

Settling across from her on a black velvet poof, complete with tassels and fringe, Anja smiled.  “It’s comfy, isn’t it?  And it’s a great place for sex.”

Dedra’s smile dropped, her mouth rounding as she imagined the impact the rocking slide of this couch would add to lovemaking.  She cast a speculative glance at the wall separating the apartments, then blushed.

“You’re cute,” Anja decided, laughing.

Dedra grimaced, for the first time wishing she could be sexy or exotic instead of cute.  Or, as was more often the case, easily dismissed.

The other woman opened an ornate wooden box, distracting Dedra from her bout of self-doubt.  A rich, exotic scent filled the air.  She looked around but there was no incense, no candles.  Just that open box.

Anja handed her a deck of old, fragile looking cards with instructions that she shuffle them.  When Dedra handed them back, the gypsy dealt them in the shape of a star on the sparkling glass table between them.

Then she leaned forward to inspect them for...  What?  A message?  Dedra leaned forward, too.  But all she saw were mostly naked people, a few weapons and a lot of flowers.  The men were impressively endowed, the women in fabulous shape, but other than a suggestion to spend more time at the gym and a reminder that she wasn’t getting laid, she couldn’t see any messages herself.

“Ahhh.”  Anja’s tone was deep and triumphant at the same time.  “I see.”

“See what?”

“I see why you’re leaving.  You’re in love with Paul.  I thought it was just a crush, but this is deeper, stronger.”

Shock ringing in her ears, Dedra stared, first at Anja, then at the cards, them back again.

“Is not,” she hissed, giving the wall a worried look just in case Paul might be peeking through a crack somewhere.

“Of course it is.  It’s all right here.”  Anja waved her ring-laden hand over the display of cards.  “So is the answer you need.”

“Where?”  Dedra leaned so far forward, she almost fell out of the swing.  She barely noticed, so focused was she on trying to see answers.  Was there a way to forestall the board takeover?  To keep them from forcing Paul to marry?  Some brilliant strategy that would give him fifty-one of the shares or drag one of the curmudgeons over to vote with the Chastain brothers?

If there was, none of the naked people on the cards were saying.

“You need clarity and closure.  By getting it for yourself, you’ll be able to move forward with a clear mind, and help Chastain succeed at the same time.”

“Oh, perfect.  That’s something I’d love to do,” Dedra said with a delighted laugh.  “So what’s the answer?”

Anja leaned back, wrapping both hands around her knee and offering a smile that had probably broken the hearts of dozens of men.

“The answer is sex, of course.”

Chapter Three

“S
ex...?”

“Sex,” Anja confirmed with a wicked smile.  “You and your boss, the gorgeous Mr. Chastain, need to have sex.”

To emphasize her point, she tapped her finger on one of the cards.  It depicted a couple that looked freakishly like Dedra and Paul.  Except they were doing things to each other that Dedra had never, even in her wildest dreams, done with the sexy Mr. Chastain.  More’s the pity.

Dedra almost melted right there thinking about changing that fact.  Sex, with Paul.  The topic of all of her dreams that didn’t involve chocolate, and a few that did.  

“That’s impossible,” she shook her head and waving her hands at the same time as if she could erase the image from the conversation, and from her imagination.

“That’s necessary.  You need closure.  A chance to see if what you’ve been fantasizing about is worth all the energy you’ve given it.  He needs to see the reality of what he’s doing, because he’s putting business over emotional well-being, and it will end in disaster.”

Dedra bit her lip.  Well that sounded practical enough.  She was pretty much obligated to stop Paul from disaster, right?

Except that she’d vowed to never be the clichéd secretary sleeping her way up the ladder on her quest for success.  Then again, if it was a ladder she was about to leave, did it count?

Oh, the temptation.

“I can’t,” she finally decided, ignoring the disappointed nosedive her hopes took as she said the words.  “I mean, what am I supposed to do?  Just walk over, knock on his door and tell him I’m horny?”

“I have the key,” Anja offered.

Dedra rolled her eyes, trying to push herself to her feet.  The couch wouldn’t let her go, though.  It was like the entire frame had sunk backward at a tilt.  She gave Anja a baffled look.

“This is your perfect opportunity,” Anja said, her words hypnotic as she blithely ignored Dedra’s predicament.  “He’s here, easily accessible.  You’re here, with all those wild thoughts in your mind and your body on fire for him.  You plan to never see him again after this weekend.  This is your last chance.  Your
only
chance.”

Dedra grabbed the edges of the couch with her fists, trying to vault herself out while Anja continued her crazy babbling.

“You’ve spent most of your life wishing you could be more, do more.  You settled on the practical, things like being efficient and focused and organized.  But you always wondered what it would be like to let loose.  To drop those carefully thought-out rules and restrictions, the inhibitions and worries, and just go for it.  Just do what you want.  Wear what you want.  Enjoy life, the way you’d do it in a dream without consequence.”

Dedra’s body went hot, then cold as she tried to take in what Anja was saying.  Her breath lodged somewhere in her chest, and she stared at the gilt and colored rectangles like they were about to spout belly dancing snakes.

“Those cards say all that?”

“The cards are a gateway, a sort of switch, to my own intuition.”  Anja waved her hand so her bracelets made a tinkling sound.  Like a gypsy jiggling her palmful of silver.  “They tell me you’re intrigued, but scared.  That you don’t want to grow old knowing you didn’t try, but you don’t know how to go about actually trying.  They say you’re not a prude, but simply reserved.”

Dedra’s mouth worked, but no words came out.  Her gaze jumped between the mysterious glow in Anja’s eyes and the cards.  She supposed she should be glad they hadn’t called her a prude.  How could those pieces of paper know what she barely admitted to herself?  That despite all the sexy, wild ideas she imagined between her and Paul, part of the reason she was afraid to pursue them because was she was afraid he’d laugh at her.  Or worse, be bored by what she thought was a turn on.

Being fired had always been a handy excuse, something to hide behind.  That was easier than admitting that she was afraid to try and embrace her sexuality, only to find out she didn’t even qualify for the minor league when it came to her fantasies.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Anja cajoled.

“It could be horrible,” Dedra exclaimed.

“Well then you know he’s lousy in bed, and can move on without regrets.”

“No, I could be horrible,” Dedra corrected.  She bit her lip, giving the wall another guilty look, then leaned forward to share in a low whisper, “He’s freaking incredible.”

“How would you know if you haven’t tired him?”

“You can just tell.  I mean, look at him.  The sensual way he enjoys everything from the weather to food to the feel of quality fabrics.  The spark in his eyes when he gets excited and, oh heck, even the length of his fingers and feet.  The man’s got it going on, I’m telling ya,” she insisted, tossing both hands in the air to emphasize her point.  “And then there are the rumors.  All those women, clamoring after him?  They call for months after dating him, still wanting more.  Begging to do it again.  That can’t all be because of his bank account.  He’s rich, but not that rich.”

Suddenly realizing how much she’d shared, Dedra clamped her mouth shut.  Oh man, wave a few naked pictures at her and there went her discretion.  

Anja was laughing too hard to notice, though.

“Then you have nothing to lose, do you.”  The dark-haired gypsy wiped the corners of her eyes.  Her laughter faded as she leaned forward to take Dedra’s hand in hers.

At first, Dedra tried to pull away.  Holding hands and talking sex with another woman was definitely pushing the boundaries of her comfort zone.  But Anja didn’t let go.  Nor was she looking at Dedra.  She was looking at her hand, her fingers lightly tracing the air above as if mapping the lines.

“You read palms, too?” Dedra asked.  Some of her tension eased, only to be replaced by other forms of worry.  She peered at her own hand too, wondering what secrets it was about to blab.

“Just confirming a couple of things,” Anja said.  “What size are you?”

Dedra lifted her now freed hand to stare at it in confusion.  “Why?  Is there a small, medium and large line?  Don’t I fit?”

“No, I mean what size do you wear?  You’re going to want some sexy lingerie.  At first I thought maybe you’d be the nothing-on-under-a-trench coat type, but it looks like you’d rather tease him into taking the lead.”

“Holy crap.”  This time Dedra had no problem vaulting from the couch, her hands fisted tight to hide any more secrets.  “How do you know all of this?  You’re scary.  Seriously scary, did you know
that
?”

“I’ve got a friend,” Anja continued as if Dedra wasn’t doing the freakout escape, heading for the door.  “She works at that little boutique up the street.  You know the one, Tres Belle?  She can bring over a few pieces of lingerie for you to pick one.  You’d have to buy it of course, but the personal service and delivery are free.”

“I shop there all the time.”  Dedra pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling like her head was spinning in a million directions at once.  “Justine is great.”

“Ahh, see, this is so meant to happen.  It was Justine that I was going to call.”