Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me
Page 4
"Behind the scenes?"
Vanessa shifted slightly in her seat to better address her grudgingly captivated audience. "I never bought into those fables my mother read to me. I couldn't help but wonder how many of the princesses-to-be had trouble saying 'yes' when the princes rode up on their white chargers and kissed their cherry red lips. What if they had a crush on the stable boy? Or a different prince from another country? A better-looking one? A prince with more money? A bigger penis?"
Carrie chuckled, feeding Vanessa's fire. ''And why was it that
every princess in every story had pale white skin? What about all the redheaded, dark-skinned princesses out there? Because we all know that red lipstick would clash terribly with a complexion
like mine:'
"Oh, Vanessa:' Rose sighed. "You're taking all the fun out of it:' Strangely, for the first time, Carrie could see Vanessa's point. "I don't know, Rose. She might be on to something. What if the girls were so desperate to get away from their evil stepmothers that they hopped into the arms of the first prince that came along?" Just like I almost did, she thought, and I didn't even have a good excuse like an evil stepmother to justify my stupidity.
As Carrie made a right turn into the entrance to the Napa Valley Hotel & Spa, Vanessa took one look at the hunky bellboys and her mouth curved into a come-hither smile, fairy tales already forgotten. Carrie handed her keys to the young valet, wondering if there wasn't something to Vanessa's love-'em-andIeave-'em attitude. Since college, as she'd watched her friend go through men like cigarettes, she'd always questioned Vanessa's behavior, certain that she'd been missing out by not opening herself up-emotionally anyway-to the opposite sex. But both she and Rose had opened themselves up, and here they were, battered and bruised.
Maybe Vanessa was right. And true love didn't exist after all.
TWO
GARRIE GRATEFULLY TOOK THE GLASS of champagne she was offered inside the lobby. The luxurious hotel, with its marble floors, mustard yellow walls, and old wood ceiling beams, reminded her of a trip she'd taken through Tuscany in college.
"Now this is something I could get used to," Vanessa purred as she ravenously eyed the closest bellboy. Carrie grabbed her arm and pulled her to the check-in counter. "It's called statutory rape. Forget about it:' After getting their room keys, Vanessa said, "I'll see you both at the pool in five;' already en route to her room.
Carrie tried to muster up the proper enthusiasm for an afternoon of drunken splashing. And failed. Turning to Rose she said, "I'm feeling restless after the long drive. You don't mind if I go out for a walk and meet up with you two later, do you?"
Rose pulled her into a warm hug. "Take all the time you need.
I'm sorry about how things turned out with James:' "It's okay. I'm okay;' she insisted, even though she wasn't. She kissed Rose on the cheek and stepped out of her embrace. "I'll meet up with you both in a bit. And I promise I'll be all smiles." Carrie said, then hurried off to her room. The hallway was as cool and soothing as the lobby and if she had been in a better mood she would have taken the time to admire the lush paintings of ripe grapes on the walls and the magical spun-glass light fixtures that hung from the ceiling. After slipping her key into the slot on the door, she entered the room. As she closed the door behind her, she caught sight of a boring-looking beige woman in the mirror. She dropped her weekend bag to the floor in dismay. Was this what she'd let herself become? She'd always loved color, reds and yellows and greens. Over the past two years, she'd slowly but surely become colorless, thinking that's what she needed to do to please her boyfriend. To get him to become her husband. She would have changed clothes, but the contents of her suitcase were just more white and beige and brown. Maybe a little gold to spice things up. Impulsively, she headed back into the lobby. "I need to buy some clothes;' she said to the woman behind the front desk who had checked her in. "Right away."
Behaving as if Carrie wasn't a complete lunatic, the woman said, "We have a wonderful boutique in the hotel, around the corner from the concierge." "Great, thanks;' Carrie said, not caring that she was about to pay way too much for a new outfit. She needed out of her beige prison, stat. A mannequin in the window of the boutique caught her eye. The tank top it sported was a low-cut swirl of color with a print that would have looked more at home on a canvas than a cotton shirt. Carrie loved it. She charged the top and a pair of yellow Capri pants to her room.
Five minutes later, she left the store wearing her new outfit and a pair of fun flip-flops. There were no recognizable labels on anything, and she felt freer than she had in a very long time. She didn't plan on ever wearing beige again, so she'd left her old clothes at the boutique to donate to charity. She was halfway through the lobby when she remembered the ring. In the pocket of her dull linen slacks. Uh-oh. That was an expensive mistake. She half jogged back to f,the store, her palms already sweating at the thought of losing the ring. She'd have to put a second mortgage on her house to pay i:!:James back if she lost it.
"Urn, hi again. I forgot something in my pants:' she said. When she pulled the enormous diamond ring out of the pocket, the owner gave her a funny look. "Strange thing to forget:' the woman said. Carrie nodded. "I know. It's a long story. Thanks again:'
Her heart was still pounding overtime as she walked back through the lobby, desperate to get out of the hotel. She walked down the main street in a rush, trying to escape her thoughts. The smell of freshly baked bread and pastries from a charming bakery wafted out onto the sidewalk, but she hardly noticed. She sidestepped several florists' buckets, filled with blooms of every color. She increased her pace past the restaurants and boutiques that lined the streets, walking so quickly that her breath came in puffs and droplets of sweat formed between her br**sts. She veered off the sidewalk onto a dirt path between vines, a fine layer of dust covering her French-manicured toenails. By the time she stopped to catch her breath and look up, she was surrounded on four sides by vineyards.
The splendor of the vines took her breath away. She'd been wine tasting in Napa before, but apart from getting out of the limo to taste Cabernet's and Pinots and Chardonnays at each winery, she'd never explored the area. The grapevines stretched before her, creeping up the mountains on both sides of the valley. She hadn't been immersed in beauty like this for a very long time.
She breathed in the sweet-smelling air, glad for the new surroundings-and her spontaneous outfit change, she thought with a sudden grin as she looked down at her bright clothes. She was going to donate the rest of her all-beige wardrobe first thing Monday.
Vanessa shifted slightly in her seat to better address her grudgingly captivated audience. "I never bought into those fables my mother read to me. I couldn't help but wonder how many of the princesses-to-be had trouble saying 'yes' when the princes rode up on their white chargers and kissed their cherry red lips. What if they had a crush on the stable boy? Or a different prince from another country? A better-looking one? A prince with more money? A bigger penis?"
Carrie chuckled, feeding Vanessa's fire. ''And why was it that
every princess in every story had pale white skin? What about all the redheaded, dark-skinned princesses out there? Because we all know that red lipstick would clash terribly with a complexion
like mine:'
"Oh, Vanessa:' Rose sighed. "You're taking all the fun out of it:' Strangely, for the first time, Carrie could see Vanessa's point. "I don't know, Rose. She might be on to something. What if the girls were so desperate to get away from their evil stepmothers that they hopped into the arms of the first prince that came along?" Just like I almost did, she thought, and I didn't even have a good excuse like an evil stepmother to justify my stupidity.
As Carrie made a right turn into the entrance to the Napa Valley Hotel & Spa, Vanessa took one look at the hunky bellboys and her mouth curved into a come-hither smile, fairy tales already forgotten. Carrie handed her keys to the young valet, wondering if there wasn't something to Vanessa's love-'em-andIeave-'em attitude. Since college, as she'd watched her friend go through men like cigarettes, she'd always questioned Vanessa's behavior, certain that she'd been missing out by not opening herself up-emotionally anyway-to the opposite sex. But both she and Rose had opened themselves up, and here they were, battered and bruised.
Maybe Vanessa was right. And true love didn't exist after all.
TWO
GARRIE GRATEFULLY TOOK THE GLASS of champagne she was offered inside the lobby. The luxurious hotel, with its marble floors, mustard yellow walls, and old wood ceiling beams, reminded her of a trip she'd taken through Tuscany in college.
"Now this is something I could get used to," Vanessa purred as she ravenously eyed the closest bellboy. Carrie grabbed her arm and pulled her to the check-in counter. "It's called statutory rape. Forget about it:' After getting their room keys, Vanessa said, "I'll see you both at the pool in five;' already en route to her room.
Carrie tried to muster up the proper enthusiasm for an afternoon of drunken splashing. And failed. Turning to Rose she said, "I'm feeling restless after the long drive. You don't mind if I go out for a walk and meet up with you two later, do you?"
Rose pulled her into a warm hug. "Take all the time you need.
I'm sorry about how things turned out with James:' "It's okay. I'm okay;' she insisted, even though she wasn't. She kissed Rose on the cheek and stepped out of her embrace. "I'll meet up with you both in a bit. And I promise I'll be all smiles." Carrie said, then hurried off to her room. The hallway was as cool and soothing as the lobby and if she had been in a better mood she would have taken the time to admire the lush paintings of ripe grapes on the walls and the magical spun-glass light fixtures that hung from the ceiling. After slipping her key into the slot on the door, she entered the room. As she closed the door behind her, she caught sight of a boring-looking beige woman in the mirror. She dropped her weekend bag to the floor in dismay. Was this what she'd let herself become? She'd always loved color, reds and yellows and greens. Over the past two years, she'd slowly but surely become colorless, thinking that's what she needed to do to please her boyfriend. To get him to become her husband. She would have changed clothes, but the contents of her suitcase were just more white and beige and brown. Maybe a little gold to spice things up. Impulsively, she headed back into the lobby. "I need to buy some clothes;' she said to the woman behind the front desk who had checked her in. "Right away."
Behaving as if Carrie wasn't a complete lunatic, the woman said, "We have a wonderful boutique in the hotel, around the corner from the concierge." "Great, thanks;' Carrie said, not caring that she was about to pay way too much for a new outfit. She needed out of her beige prison, stat. A mannequin in the window of the boutique caught her eye. The tank top it sported was a low-cut swirl of color with a print that would have looked more at home on a canvas than a cotton shirt. Carrie loved it. She charged the top and a pair of yellow Capri pants to her room.
Five minutes later, she left the store wearing her new outfit and a pair of fun flip-flops. There were no recognizable labels on anything, and she felt freer than she had in a very long time. She didn't plan on ever wearing beige again, so she'd left her old clothes at the boutique to donate to charity. She was halfway through the lobby when she remembered the ring. In the pocket of her dull linen slacks. Uh-oh. That was an expensive mistake. She half jogged back to f,the store, her palms already sweating at the thought of losing the ring. She'd have to put a second mortgage on her house to pay i:!:James back if she lost it.
"Urn, hi again. I forgot something in my pants:' she said. When she pulled the enormous diamond ring out of the pocket, the owner gave her a funny look. "Strange thing to forget:' the woman said. Carrie nodded. "I know. It's a long story. Thanks again:'
Her heart was still pounding overtime as she walked back through the lobby, desperate to get out of the hotel. She walked down the main street in a rush, trying to escape her thoughts. The smell of freshly baked bread and pastries from a charming bakery wafted out onto the sidewalk, but she hardly noticed. She sidestepped several florists' buckets, filled with blooms of every color. She increased her pace past the restaurants and boutiques that lined the streets, walking so quickly that her breath came in puffs and droplets of sweat formed between her br**sts. She veered off the sidewalk onto a dirt path between vines, a fine layer of dust covering her French-manicured toenails. By the time she stopped to catch her breath and look up, she was surrounded on four sides by vineyards.
The splendor of the vines took her breath away. She'd been wine tasting in Napa before, but apart from getting out of the limo to taste Cabernet's and Pinots and Chardonnays at each winery, she'd never explored the area. The grapevines stretched before her, creeping up the mountains on both sides of the valley. She hadn't been immersed in beauty like this for a very long time.
She breathed in the sweet-smelling air, glad for the new surroundings-and her spontaneous outfit change, she thought with a sudden grin as she looked down at her bright clothes. She was going to donate the rest of her all-beige wardrobe first thing Monday.
