A Different Kind of Forever - By Dee Ernst Page 0,39

rich celebrity really sucks, Michael.”

“Oh, you know it.” He put down his wine glass and began to crawl to her side of the couch. She spread her legs and he lay between them and kissed her, hard. She sank deeper into the couch, wrapping her legs around him, her arms creeping around his neck.

“Would you like to stay here tonight?” She asked.

“Yes. Absolutely. Although the original plan was to wine you and dine you, then take you to my place.”

“You had a plan?”

“Of course. Waiting at home are three bottles of champagne and a closet full of rubbers.”

“A whole closet full? Your recuperative powers must be impressive.”

“Very. Someday I’ll write a song about it.”

“Wow. So, do you mind going to plan B?”

“Not at all. In fact,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile, “I happen to have a toothbrush in my glove compartment.”

She kissed his neck. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m something of an optimist.” His hands were back beneath her dress. He was kissing her as she began to move her hips against him.”

“It would seem,” he said softly, “that you aren’t wearing anything under your dress.”

“That’s right,” she said. “I’m something of an optimist too.”

She began pulling his shirt away, tugging at his jeans, and she stopped and looked at him. “I do have a bed, you know,” she told him.

“I know,” he replied, kicking his jeans to the floor. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to it.”

And they began again.

In the morning, they left the house early. There was a beautifully restored Volkswagen convertible bug sitting in Diane’s driveway. She stared at it, delighted.

“This is yours?” she asked. “It’s perfect. Can I drive?”

They put the top down, she slid behind the wheel and Michael found his cell phone in the back seat and began to check messages. They stopped for breakfast at a diner, then went back up Rt. 24, through Morristown, and on to Mendham. Michael talked on his cell phone, and Diane drove happily, the wind whipping her hair. He directed her off the main road, winding through quiet country, until she turned up a narrow drive, gently rising, with a grove of massive pines offering only a glimpse of a house set far back from the road.

Michael’s house was long and low. She stopped the car before a tall, red, double doors and they got out.

“Your house is beautiful, Michael.”

“Thanks. I really love it.”

They walked into a low-ceilinged foyer that opened to a large, lofty space, glass walls opening to a pool and a stretch of blue water beyond. Diane caught her breath. It was beautiful, the room, with its stark, elegant furnishings, and the view, bright and glittering.

Max came bounding from somewhere, and Michael yelled loudly, “Fred, it’s me.” He looked at Diane. “Want the tour?” She nodded.

Beyond the living room was a dining area, equally quiet and gracious. The kitchen was a gleaming space of stainless steel and black, with a small, round gentleman Michael introduced as Fred, who bowed over Diane’s hand and welcomed her. There were guest rooms and a large media room, and on the other side of the house, a small office, a vast studio, and Michael’s bedroom, walled on two sides with glass, looking out over the lake and lush trees.

Michael led her back to the kitchen. “Fred, can we have lunch? Around one. Out on the dock?” He asked.

Fred smiled and nodded. “Very good cold crab. Salad. Good bread. White wine.”

“Fantastic. Thank you.” Michael led Diane out past the pool, down a beautifully manicured lawn to a small dock that stretched out into the water, with two weathered Adirondack chairs facing the water.

Diane had never been in a sailboat before, and he was patient, explaining what everything was and what it was used for. They practiced a few moves with the sail down, the boat simply rocking in the water. When they really got underway, Diane felt confident. They sailed around in small circles within the sight of his house. She was dressed in jeans and sneakers, and had worn a heavy sweatshirt on his advice. The wind was high and cold out on the water, but she found it exhilarating. They brought the boat back in and had lunch, sitting at a small table Fred had set up at the edge of the dock.

When they went out again, he took her past a curve of land and there was the rest of the lake, huge and glistening. They spent the next few hours racing across the