A flash of anger burned through the effect of her medication. Feeling her left temple begin to throb again, Carolyn glared at him. "Thanks a lot. You make me sound like a callous bitch."
"You're nothing of the kind. You're a wonderful bitch."
"You horrible man," she muttered. "You make me so angry sometimes." She rubbed her temple.
"Only because I see you the way you are, and not the way you want to be seen. You're very good at playing Carolyn Black. It's the role of a lifetime, if you ask me."
He was an unbearable tease. Still, she felt herself relax as he put his arm around her shoulders and ushered her into the kitchen. "Let me make it up to you with a café latte," he said. "You're the only person I know who sleeps better after a healthy dose of caffeine."
Carolyn perched on a stool next to the kitchen counter, watching as he ground aromatic coffee beans. "Tell me something. What did you mean when you said you were curious about her motives for inviting me?" she asked.
Jared placed a cup in the espresso machine. "Does she want to get to know you before she decides whether to offer you the role? Or is there some other agenda?"
"Such as?"
"You'll have to ask her. But if I were a lesbian, I'd probably enjoy having you swim in my pool." He handed Carolyn her latte.
She sipped it with a show of nonchalance. Could Annelie Peterson be attracted to her? If so, she wouldn't be the first lesbian Carolyn had had to politely discourage. On the other hand, this could be exactly the opportunity she needed. If there was one thing show business had taught her, it was how to convert lust into an acting contract.
***
Annelie stepped out of her blue dress and hung it carefully before taking off her lace underwear and putting on a white terry-cloth robe. She walked outside and switched on the jets in the Jacuzzi, dropped the robe on a garden chair, and climbed into the hot water. Screened from view by palm trees and high walls, her hot tub was located directly off the patio near the swimming pool. Annelie loved the sense of being in her own little world, naked outdoors. With a contented sigh, she leaned back and gazed up at the starry sky, amazed at how close it always seemed. This was one of the things she loved about Florida—in New York, you could barely make out the constellations because of the bright city lights.
Shifting in the water, she allowed the jets to reach every part of her body, teasing and caressing her flesh, rippling along the entire length of her spine like a thousand tiny kisses. Steady blue-gray eyes and auburn hair invaded her thoughts, and she closed her eyes, not surprised that Carolyn Black had lodged in her mind. The actress was more than a famous beauty; she was devastatingly sexy. Something about the way she moved, and the way she looked at Annelie, unsettled her in a way she was not used to. Face-to-face, Carolyn had made her feel like she was the only person in the room, nailing her with those amazing eyes, pulling her in and claiming all of her attention. It had taken an effort for Annelie to remain calm, at least outwardly, and just thinking about the encounter still made her heart hammer in her chest.
She wondered if Carolyn knew she was a lesbian. Annelie realized people automatically assumed she was gay just because she published an extensive range of widely successful lesbian books and never used token males as escorts to any of the functions she attended. It was not something she attempted to keep a secret, but she was not officially out either. Reserved by nature, she neither confirmed nor denied her sexual preference to anyone. It simply wasn't anybody else's business.
Annelie hadn't reached her present position in society overnight. Winning one of the largest ever multistate Powerball lotteries nine years ago had altered her life forever. After surviving the media circus with its interviews, followed by the obligatory letters and phone calls from begging strangers and acquaintances, she'd decided to drop below the radar.
Assuming her Swedish mother's maiden name, she'd moved to New York, living in Manhattan for two years while she attended Barnard College's Comparative Literature Program. During that period, she'd learned how to move among the rich and famous as if she belonged, taking lessons in deportment and public speaking. A regime of beauty treatments, massages, and regular visits to the gym changed her looks and movements.
The girl who had once been Annie Clint, bank-office clerk during the day to help pay for her literature studies in the evenings, became Annelie Peterson, businesswoman. She started a call center named Quasar Inc. at the beginning of the outsourcing boom. The business rapidly become so successful she was able to sell it at a handsome profit and look for a new business opportunity, something less crazy. Annelie never spoke about her past and had confided the truth to only three of her best friends, knowing they would never betray her. She'd learned a few difficult lessons early on, especially that people treated her differently because of her money and few had genuine motives.
As she arched her back, she tilted her head into the Jacuzzi, allowing the jets to massage her scalp. Her naked breasts rose above the surface, her nipples pebbling in the humid night air. Shivering slightly, she sank once more into the seductive warmth of the water and released a satisfied moan. She had never regretted her decision to move on. Much as she'd loved Manhattan, she had longed for a slower pace. Having visited Florida several times and fallen in love with the cosmopolitan way of life in Miami, she decided to make it her home.
She bought a medium-sized publishing company, Key Line Publishing, and promptly branched out from nonfiction and children's books to publish gay and lesbian literature as well as mainstream novels. Her strategy paid off, soon making Key Line a thorn in the sides of the industry heavyweights.
Annelie returned to her condo in New York periodically, enjoying catching up with her friends. She kept a close check on the business endeavors she was still involved with and also worked with several charity organizations. Most of her fortune remained tied up in a wide stock and bond portfolio, and under the auspices of her savvy investment manager, her net worth had almost quadrupled since her lottery win.
Annelie did not flaunt her wealth the way many of Miami's newly rich did. Her financial status made her the target of opportunists, and showing up on Forbes's list of businesswomen of influence was no help. It was always a struggle to balance her need for privacy, which sometimes led to inadvertent solitude, with her need to do business effectively and provide active support to the charity organizations she had endowed.
Turning in the water, she pushed herself up over the side of the Jacuzzi, then into the swimming pool, needing to cool down. The hot water in the whirlpool was soothing, but it also made her lethargic if she wasn't careful. She swam over to the other side of the pool, completely submerged, relishing the water's silken chill against her flesh. When she reached the ladder, she climbed up and sat on the ledge, wringing out her hair as the balmy night once more surrounded her.
Droplets ran down her arms, glistening against her pale skin as they followed the rounded curve of her full breasts. They stopped at the puckered skin of her nipples, and the cooling effect of the water made her shiver. Annelie smoothed the rivulets away, running her hands over her body. The touch was oddly soothing, yet had a bittersweet tinge to it. She rarely felt lonely, but tonight she was all too aware of what was missing in her very full life. Suddenly Carolyn's eyes were there again, looking at her, her head slightly tilted as if Annelie were the most interesting, worthwhile person in the world. Not quite sure why the image of the actress was etched on her retina, she envisioned the smaller woman dressed in that elegant black evening gown, the rhinestones accentuating her figure. In person, she was everything Annelie had imagined, maybe even more.