The Driven Snowe Read online

  “For the love of…Angie, don’t scare me like that!” Bethany scolded.

  “I didn’t mean to…but the whole thing scared some sense into me.” She thought about her new agreement with Josh. “Okay, maybe sense isn’t quite the right word. But it scared some courage into me.”

  Bethany went silent for a moment, then a tone of glee crept into her voice. “No way. Don’t tell me you…”

  “You’re talking to an ex-virgin, pal.”

  Bethany crowed. “Whoo-hoo! Finally!” Once she’d finished cheering, her tone got businesslike. “Who did it, where was it, how did it go? Full report. I want every juicy tidbit.”

  “Well, you’re not getting every juicy tidbit,” Angela said. “But I’ll tell you this…it’s everything you said it was, and then some. And then, just a little bit more.”

  “So how did this all come about? You were introduced by friends? Met at a party? In line at the DMV?”

  Angela bit her lip. “Actually, it was more like a decision I made. This guy is fairly well-known around Manzanita—not exactly as a womanizer, but as a…” She thought of how best to describe Josh. “A professional bachelor, let’s say. I just sort of…well, I made him an offer.”

  “Don’t tell me…you decided you were going to lose your virginity to him, and then went gunning, didn’t you?” Bethany’s laughter was exuberant. “If you could see me, you’d find me kneeling in front of my phone in homage to you. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t think you’d have the balls to just go up to a guy and ask him to jump you.”

  “Oh, knock it off,” Angela said. “It turned out okay in the end.”

  “I just bet it did,” Bethany said. “So, are you going to see him again, or what?”

  “We’ve worked out a sort of…arrangement.” Angela could feel her face coloring. “We, er, see each other, but it’s nothing serious.”

  Bethany paused again. “Oh, my God. Angela Snowe, the virgin extraordinaire, has herself a fuckbuddy?”

  Angela winced. “Oh, and doesn’t that sound attractive.”

  Bethany obviously recognized her friend’s tone, and eased up. “Sorry for my bluntness, but you know me. It’s just that a couple of months ago, I was scolding you to get out more, maybe consider dating. Now, I’m talking to a flagrant libertine, and I honestly couldn’t be happier.” Bethany’s voice was warm. “I’m proud of you, Angela.”

  Angela relaxed. “Thanks, Bethany. You’re right. I was too comfortable. I figured I had plenty of time—who doesn’t think that way, right? Next thing I know, I’m facing breast cancer and then I wasn’t, and it was the push I needed. I just jumped into everything I ever wanted to try. I’m barely even home, I’m taking so many classes. I probably won’t stick with everything, but… Bethany, I feel like a new person.”

  “I’ve got a shoot in a little while, sweetie, so I’ll have to cut this short. But I’ve got to get one more try in.” Angela could hear the smile in Bethany’s voice. “I don’t suppose this ‘new person’ has a passport?”

  Angela thought for a second, still drenched in her new euphoria. And then it struck her.

  In six months, my arrangement with Josh will be over.

  She saw her arrangement with Josh as an experiment in personal growth. She didn’t want a relationship, and neither did he. Instead, he was helping her test her wings. She wasn’t going to hide in her books anymore, or avoid adventures. Between her classes, her friends and Josh, she would finally start living the life she’d secretly wanted.

  What better way to culminate this six-month experiment by finally doing what she’d always dreamed of—traveling to Europe?

  “You know, Bethany,” she said slowly. “You’re on. I’ll go to Italy.”

  JOSH SAT AT HIS DESK, watching the blink of his voice mail light on his phone. He knew there were several urgent messages from his marketing team, about the fact that the agency had made a huge mistake, and their new product launch was going to be off schedule. In the meantime, Bill had pointed out that they were going over budget in marketing anyway for the second quarter, and something needed to be done. Adam’s research and development team were starting to have problems with one of the natural emulsifiers they’d been toying with for the new carob-soy bar. All in all, the day was going to hell in a handbasket.

  Despite all of this, he thought with a self-deprecating grin, the thing that seemed to be popping up most on his mind was Angela. He wasn’t sure how that happened.

  It was the type of relationship most men only dreamed of. If some guy had told Josh that he’d be lucky enough to get a beautiful, sexy, willing woman, no strings attached, for six months, Josh would have probably bought the man a beer.

  Now that he’d been experiencing it for a month, he’d probably punch the same man out.

  He sat at his desk, ready to tear his hair out. He’d been “seeing” Angela for over a month now. He couldn’t even bring himself to call it dating—dating was far too personal. He wasn’t even seeing her that often. Between her crazy schedule of classes and her friends, he was lucky to get Friday and Saturday night with her, so he’d only “seen” her about eight times or so. And it always seemed to be the same thing. She would drive to his house. They’d engage in some small talk—if he were lucky, he could convince her to go to dinner, or if he were really lucky, a movie. She would be serene and indulgent, and would listen to his stories without sharing too much about her personal life. Then they would go back to his place and go at it like rabbits. After they’d gone two or three rounds, she would calmly smile, kiss him tenderly, then get dressed and go home.

  He shut the report on his desk with a snap, rubbing at his eyes. That sounded awful. But he couldn’t think of how else to put it. Any other man might consider this the perfect arrangement—“friends with benefits,” however you wanted to call it. But for whatever reason, he finally figured out it wasn’t working for him. At all.

  The more maddening thing was, it seemed to be working perfectly for her.

  If she had grown annoying, that would be one thing. He’d had that happen before: date a girl, have a great weekend, then in another two or three weekends he wondered what the hell he’d ever seen in her. But not with Angela. Despite her concentration on the physical aspects of their relationship, she was still sweet, still funny, still intriguing. Nevertheless, she was still completely emotionally unavailable. It was crazy-making. He’d have called it quits, except…

  Except he wanted her so goddamn badly. Not just her body, but her—her smile, her personality, the whole ball of wax.

  His phone rang, and he answered it absently. “Josh Montgomery.”

  “Josh? Honey, how are you?”

  “Hi, gorgeous,” Josh said, a grin instantly lighting his face. “I was just going to call you.”

  “Don’t try to play me, Josh. I’m your mother. Your charms are wasted,” she said, laughing. “The real question is, when are you going to see me?”

  Josh grabbed his Palm Pilot, flipping through his calendar. His weekends had Angela blocked out. “I don’t think I can get away any time soon. Solar Bars is in a little bit of a crisis right now.”

  “What about…let’s see, two months or so from now? I know you’re busy with work and whatnot, but check your calendar.”

  “I don’t know…” Josh scrolled through even more dates, stopping on an entry that had a flashing reminder note. “Whoops. Dad’s birthday.”

  “Whoops, indeed.” His mother chuckled at him. “Honestly. I figured you might have forgotten. How such a brilliant businessman can’t keep his family’s birthdays straight is beyond me. I think it’s a male thing. I honestly do.”

  It was a familiar tirade. Josh just smiled at it. “What can I say. We’re inconsiderate scum.”

  “So you’ll come, then? We’re having the whole family over for a party.”

  Josh thought about it. That’s one weekend away from Angela. Despite his problems with the way their relationship was going, he valued every
minute he got to spend with her. He didn’t know how much time he was going to get before she decided she’d had enough. That was a whole other problem, frankly.

  Still, this was his family. Nothing was more important than his family. “I’ll be there,” he said.

  “Good. It’ll mean so much to your father. You know he’s not going to want to face that sugar-free carrot cake alone.”

  Josh’s tone became more concerned. “How’s he doing, anyway? With the diabetes?”

  “Oh, you know your father,” she said. “It’s hard on him, but he’ll never let on. Stubborn as a mule, charming as the devil. This is one problem he can’t attack head-on. He can’t talk his way out of it, or plan his way out of it. At least he can control it by diet—he’s not doing the insulin route.”

  Josh nodded in agreement. “He’d hate that.”

  “He still feels like his body is betraying him, though. The man in control of everything can’t even keep his own blood sugar in line. It’s an indignity.” She sighed. “But he’s learning to live with it. Naturally, I’m helping.”

  “Naturally,” Josh said, smiling again. “Where would he be if he didn’t have you?”

  “Probably in jail or the loony bin,” his mother said firmly, causing him to laugh. “Well, somebody has to take care of the man before he runs himself into the ground. Good heavens. And now I’m going to have both my girls and my son, all under the same roof!”

  She obviously sounded delighted by the prospect. “Don’t know how you stand it, Mom.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, either,” his mother said, and he could almost picture the gentle smile on her rounded face. “You four are pretty tough to take.”

  His mother lived for her husband and her kids, and he knew it. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

  “Try giving me some more grandkids,” she suggested. “Then I’ll have more people to focus my attention on instead of bothering my only son.”

  This, too, was familiar ground. “I just haven’t met…” he started, then stopped, thinking. “Just out of curiosity, what would you say if I brought somebody home for Dad’s birthday?”

  His mother was quiet for a second. “I’d say, honey, go get the first aid kit, I think I’ve keeled over.”

  “Cute, Mom,” Josh noted. “No, really. How would you feel?”

  “You’ve met someone, then?”

  Josh cleared his throat. “I didn’t say that.”

  “What did I tell you before? I’m your mother. You can’t con me.” She sounded triumphant, and excited. “So, what’s she like? What’s her family like? And how did you meet her?”

  He was not telling his mother how he met Angela. “Well, she’s sort of hard to describe,” he hedged. “She’s very special.”

  “She’s got to be, if you’re considering bringing her here. Where is she from?”

  Josh frowned. “I don’t know, really.”

  His mother paused again. “You don’t know?”

  “Well, she used to live in New York.”

  “When?”

  What difference did it make? But these were Mom-type questions. He should have been used to them by now. “Well, she lived in New York before she lived here,” he said. “She used to live in Manzanita. We went to high school together.”

  “Was she one of your friends, then?”

  “Um, no. I didn’t really know her.”

  “Was she born there?”

  Josh rubbed his temples. “It hasn’t come up.”

  “Josh, for someone who’s about to bring a girl home to meet his parents, you sound like you’re picking up a stranger from the bus station.”

  Josh didn’t have a ready argument for that one.

  “Honestly. How long have you known the girl, anyway?” she asked, her voice thick with suspicion.

  “I don’t know. Two months, I guess. Maybe three.” Three sounded better, and he didn’t like his mom’s tone.

  “Three months, and you don’t know anything about her? What in the world have you been doing?” She paused. “Wait a minute. Don’t answer that.”

  “Wasn’t planning to,” he responded. He saw Jackie from marketing making an impatient motion at his doorway before disappearing down the hall. “Listen, I’ve got to go into a meeting. Say hi to Dad for me, and tell the girls I’ll be there for his party.”

  “Sure will. I love you, son.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.” He hung up the phone.

  Like you’re picking up a stranger from the bus station.

  He went into a meeting to see the new ad spots their agency had been working on. As the marketing people squabbled over the report he’d read over, he thought about his mother’s words.

  He didn’t know anything about Angela, he realized—at least, nothing that mattered to Angela. It was just like their first “date.” He had been trying so hard to work out an “arrangement” with her, of romancing her and seducing her, he hadn’t even considered getting to know her better. He had to admit, he had wanted to impress her and win her over—his consideration hadn’t gone further than securing their six-month arrangement. He felt a little uneasy knot in his stomach that felt suspiciously like guilt.

  He’d never had to worry about women opening up to him in the past. Women with marriage on their minds always wanted to become your best friend—they told you stories of their childhood, their entire relationship history, all in the hopes that you’d break down and do the same. Then, if you did drop any stories, they’d start trying to wear you down further, with china patterns and children’s names next on the list.

  Angela hadn’t been like that. She wouldn’t be like that—from what he knew about her, opening up was not something that came easily to her. And for the first time in his life, he might actually want her to try.

  He would stop by her house tonight. Not for their usual seduction, or varied and exotic sex. Tonight, he was going to really delve into the mystery that was Angela Snowe. And maybe, just maybe, their “arrangement” would turn into something much more.

  ANGELA FLOPPED ON her couch. She was tired. It had been an unusually crazy day at the library, with two very irate patrons, one missing book shipment, and an on-the-spot employee resignation. She glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. She was supposed to be over at Josh’s at seven-thirty. Maybe she should cancel—she was a little too exhausted to be up for their usual weekend antics.

  She stretched a little, rubbing at her neck. She hadn’t thought she would ever say that. It certainly wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the sex. If anything, every time she was with him made her seem to want him even more than before. But something wasn’t quite right, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

  Maybe I’ve just been too tired. Classes four nights a week, on top of her forty hours of work, and yoga bright and early Saturday mornings was beginning to wear her down.

  The doorbell rang before she could pick up the phone. Frowning, she got to her feet, moaning lightly—her feet were killing her. She didn’t want to deal with solicitors. At this point, somebody with a million-dollar check could be waiting at her front door, and she wouldn’t care. She’d tell him to take a hike, then call tonight off.

  She glanced through the peephole. To her surprise, she recognized the man’s features in the fish-eye lens. She opened the door slowly. “Josh?”

  He grinned, and she smelled the delicious aroma of take-out…Chinese, maybe? “Hi there,” he said, and came in while she was still too surprised to do anything. “I thought you’d be tired. I brought movies and some Thai food.”

  She held the door for a minute, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She’d been hesitant to have him come to her house, preferring to have their arrangement take place at his house so she wasn’t constantly reminded of it when she was home. But the food smelled delicious, and she’d been figuring on just having a sandwich or maybe oatmeal for dinner, anyway. And he looked so comforting, standing there with his hands full of packages. “You can put all that
stuff down on the kitchen table,” she finally said, closing the door and locking it.

  He set up everything in a matter of minutes. “How was your day? You look exhausted.”

  She hadn’t really talked about her job before. Part of it was her habit of not sharing a lot…she didn’t want to bore him, and besides, it didn’t seem particularly applicable when it came to, well, what they did on weekends. That had been her choice, and his as well, she rationalized. Just because she’d had a rough day…

  “Angela?” Josh walked up to where she was sitting, and put a broad, warm hand on her forehead. “Honey, you’re not getting sick, are you?”

  The gesture was so sweet. It reminded her of when her mother used to do the same thing, checking for fever. She smiled at him. “Just beat. Had a tough day at work.” Words just seemed to tumble out of her, and before she knew it, she was relaying the scene in bits and pieces. “So there I am, standing between two old men who were in a shouting match about whether or not the Kama Sutra should be allowed in a public institution, one yelling that it’s smut and the other all but singing the national anthem and quoting the constitution, and Linda just throws up her hands and says, ‘That’s it—I quit’ and walks out. It was a wretched afternoon.” She rubbed at her temples, then jumped slightly as she felt his hands on the back of her neck. She relaxed almost immediately as his fingers gently massaged her neck and shoulder blades. “Mmm. That feels great,” she said, leaning back slightly. It’s just a back rub. That’s still physical, not emotional, right?

  “Man. You really did have a day, huh?”

  “It’s better now,” she said.

  They ate the Thai food, and he cleared away the dishes. “Just relax on the couch,” he had said, shuffling her back to her living room. So all she could do was sit there and relax while he handled everything. She was touched, but she was also sort of disconcerted. He seemed to be looking at everything. Maybe she was being paranoid.

  “Wow,” he said, as he was rinsing dishes before loading them in the dishwasher’s wire racks. “Lots of recipes you’ve got around here.”