Scissor Link Georgette Kaplan (best self help books to read .TXT) 📖

was heavier than the long camel one she would be putting on herself, but she felt indebted to Wendy for agreeing to this on such short notice and not being able to dress appropriately for the weather. She was wearing a skirt, for Christ’s sake. Not even a modest skirt—it disappeared under the hem of her coat.

“Wait here,” Janet told her, pulling the coat tight around Wendy before shrugging her own on. “I’ll hail a cab.”

“And I will try to sort out if this is the most uncomfortable I’ve been for fashion. Probably not. I’m wearing flats.”

Janet hurried out, wishing she’d had more time. She’d been able to arrange for the limo to the airport, but getting one to take her away from the Yuma main terminal was outside her timeframe. It embarrassed her, having to smuggle Wendy about in a cab. That certainly hadn’t been her experience on her honeymoon. That had been first-class, all the way.

Only you’re not on honeymoon, you’re barely even on a date, you’re on a business trip with, what, your work-wife? Your office fling? Your slightly-more-classy-than-banging-the-secretary? Just because she’s the same age you were when you got married doesn’t mean she wants damaged goods and—

Whatever existential episode she was having was interrupted by a taxi cab pulling up. She signaled for the driver to wait, hurried back inside to fetch the luggage Wendy was guarding, and together they got everything into the trunk of the cab. The cabbie didn’t offer to help, seeing they could manage three bags on their own, and probably not getting out from under the cab’s heater for love or money. Even if it wasn’t actively snowing, there were hailstones on the glossy-wet ground that Janet assumed had come with recent sleet. The airport had been chilly, the outside was cold, and when they finally piled into the back of the cab, it was all Janet could do not to help out as Wendy rubbed herself warm. She did offer a sympathetic smile and promised herself she’d get some hot coffee into Wendy at the earliest opportunity—her treat.

The ride was through light traffic, the driver careful with slick streets. There was a peculiar melancholy to being driven in that haze between morning and night and overcast skies. The natural tendency was towards sleep, lulled by the motion of the vehicle, buffeted by the darkness sweeping by on all sides. It soothed frazzled nerves, not that Janet had let her nerves get frazzled. She’d been remarkably calm in her dealings with Wendy, despite the eagerness of the move. The stupid, silly conspiring between libido and circumstance to rush her into this. She felt breathlessly afraid that a wrong move would spoil everything beyond repair; a misstep that she would be entombed in for the remaining days of the conference, the error festering with the close proximity she and Wendy would be in, if she moved too fast, if she moved too slow, she could ruin it all.

Janet stared out the window and tried not to let any of the anxiety reach her. It wasn’t like with Roberta. She wouldn’t let it be. When was the last time, with Roberta, that Janet had wanted so keenly to feel her hand again? She laid her hand down on the bench seat between herself and Wendy, palm down, gripping the coarse leather of the water-damaged seat. Wendy could lay her hand down alongside Janet’s, and if she left it there long enough, it would be perfectly natural for their fingers to brush together, for her to feel the warmth of Wendy’s pinky along hers.

She was smiling, thinking of something so small—gripping the leather in hopes it would happen. She hadn’t had that with Roberta for a long time, if ever. She wouldn’t let it go now. She’d find a way to make it stay.

Wendy set down her carry-on bag, light as it was, atop Janet’s hand, and Janet shot her a look before Wendy slid her hand underneath the bag and gripped Janet’s.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to make it stay. Maybe it would last.

“Oh, Janet, before I forget,” Wendy said, as if she weren’t holding Janet’s hand, but with a secret little smile because she was. “I read on the plane about one of the Hawkowl’s new systems, a RadarVoid project?”

“I’ve heard of it,” Janet said. “It’s one of the upgrades we’re planning to implement after the Hawkowl’s gone into production.”

“It sounds revolutionary. You might want to lead with it.”

“The thing about revolutions is sometimes they fail,” Janet reminded her gently. “I’d rather promise what I can deliver.”

“I’ve seen the project reports. They sound very promising.”

“I’ll consider it. But when we get there, leave the talking to me. You’re there to learn and observe, not participate.”

“Sounds like my high school love life.”

A light drizzle started halfway to the hotel, clattering at the roof of the cab with enough volume to be rhythmic, and Janet knew if she leaned her head against the window, the cool glass would rock her to sleep. She kept awake. Dragging her thumbnail along the skin of Wendy’s hand, seeing the muscles in her arm clench right through the sleeve of her coat. Two days…an eternity!

The drizzle cut off, too abruptly to be natural, and Janet realized that they’d passed under the awning of the hotel. Wendy slipped her hand away in a smooth motion, seeming to pick up her carry-on bag more than anything else. “I really need to use the bathroom.”

“Would you like a hall pass?” Janet asked, trying not to tease too hard with her smile with the cabbie so close at hand.

“Just wanted to know if you could handle the luggage.”

“The porter will handle the luggage. This isn’t a Holiday Inn.”

“Oh. Right.” Wendy glanced out the window. “You know it doesn’t have automatic doors?”

“The bathroom’s probably inside,” Janet pointed out.

“I’m just saying, is it not a Holiday Inn because a Holiday Inn wasn’t available?”

“It’s the best I could do on short notice. My predecessor was going