Book I
Gloaming
Chapter 1
Julianna giggled and sank into Shane’s arms as the limousine whisked them from the reception.
“What an amazing night,” she breathed.
Shane smiled and kissed her temple, glad everything had gone right for her.
“Except my feet are killing me,” she said.
Shane didn’t doubt that. He’d had enough experience with heels to know how unforgiving they could be, especially as hours wore on. The wedding had begun at six the previous evening and it was now well past four in the morning. He didn’t think the wedding dress could be very comfortable, either.
“Give ‘em here.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, swiveling in the seat and lifting her feet so Shane could pull them onto his lap.
He gently removed the shoes, set them on the floor, and massaged her feet through the silk of her stockings while she reclined with her eyes closed and a happy little smile on her lips.
“You are so good at that,” she breathed. “If you ever decide to get out of the phone-sex business, you could make a killing as a masseuse.” She raised her hands and waved them, as if to erase the words. “Wait, wait. Forget I said that.”
They laughed. Now and then, Julianna said something that she’d have had no trouble saying when they were friends who flirted, but fell outside the bounds of things she wanted to say to the man in her life.
“I dunno,” he said. “I may be needin’ a new job.”
As of the day before, he’d gotten out of the phone sex but not the business.
Four years before, when he was fifteen, he opened his first phone sex line, which was quickly followed by chat-sex on the internet. Both, when accessed by married people, redirected them from the sex talk to areas devoted to spicing up relationships.
He’d made a lot of money off virtual sex and still did, but he’d slowly cut down on the number of lines he actively manned. He’d bought computers with the early proceeds, dubbed the cluster Jezebel, and taught her to handle the calls and chats.
Training her hadn’t been too hard. The average sex conversation employed a rather limited index of words and phrases. Slowly, he turned his personas over to Jezebel to handle.
Though the website and the phone lines prominently announced that the characters were computer simulations and not real people, nobody believed it. They thought it was part of the gimmick and laughed at the picture of one of Jezebel’s towers with a white cap on top and a French-maid apron around the middle.
Shane had kept the Daye Stark persona the longest since it was the flagship.
He gave Daye to Jezebel the day before the wedding. It just wouldn’t have felt right to be having explicit sex-talk with other people when he was a married man.
It remained to be seen whether the fake Daye was good enough to keep customers coming back.
He made good money playing drums with the band Painted Ghost but wasn’t sure how long that would continue, given that the other band members were showing increasing interest in a potential move to California. He made a little from teaching karate and more from song and video game royalties. Still, he had a year remaining in school, and twenty-four-year-old Julianna had decided she wanted to go to law school. Money might get a little tight, he thought, but becoming a masseuse had nothing to do with computers or math, and little to do with philosophy, and so it would rank low on his employment wish list.
“Maybe you should come to law school,” Julianna said.
That ranked even lower than being a masseuse, but for altogether different reasons. “Yeah,” Shane said with a tiny laugh. “I can see that now.”
“Think how much fun it would be,” she said. “We can sit together in class. Do homework together. Like before.”
“We can still do all that, Jul,” he said.
“But it’ll be harder if we’re in different kinds of school.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
She was quiet for a time. “I really want you to think about law school,” she said. “Seriously.”
He stiffened. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “I’ve just been thinking about it.”
“I don’t want to be a lawyer, Jul.”
“But you’d be so good at it. And you must be interested in law, or you wouldn’t spend so much time on that child advocacy stuff you do.”
Shane sighed. Just because he didn’t want other children screwed by the system the way he was, growing up, didn’t mean he wanted to be a lawyer. He volunteered for the Court Appointed Special Advocate program but wouldn’t be eligible to serve officially as a child advocate until he turned twenty-one. That was still almost two years away.
“And your parents would be so proud.”
“Those are my grandparents, Julianna, and I have no intention of becoming a lawyer to please them.”
“Or me?”
“I–” Shane shook his head. “Let’s not have this conversation now, okay?”
“Teachers don’t make shit, you know.”
Shane looked out the window, watching the world go by, while he rubbed Julianna’s feet. He’d known her two years. In all those months, she’d never questioned his plans for the future. When he was in seminary and they were just roommates, she’d seemed to think being a minister was a fine occupation for him. After he got kicked out of seminary and decided to become a teacher, she’d seemed to think that was fine, too, and that attitude had carried through the engagement. Were his grandparents behind this change of heart? Or had she simply failed to mention her desire for a lawyer husband until after the wedding?
“Shane,” she said, her tone conciliatory, “we’re married now. We need to be practical.”
“Had I known your concept of practicality required my going to law school, we would not be married now.”
“How can you say such a thing?”
“Because that is how I feel,” he said. He tried to lift her feet from his lap but she locked her knees, keeping her legs extended. “Perhaps if you had been a little more open about your own feelings, we could have discussed this at a more opportune time. But you did not and so we did not. And I do not wish to talk about it now.”
He pushed her feet with one hand, pulled her arm with the other, and turned her body until she was sitting upright in the seat.
She rubbed her arm after he pulled his hand away. “How can you be so mean to me on our wedding day?”
Technically, it wasn’t their wedding day anymore, but Shane didn’t feel the need to point that out. Several minutes passed while he watched the traffic go by. The day before had begun with a beautiful dawn. Though it was still early, he could tell this was going to be a gray day. That change in the weather seemed symbolic to him in that moment. He’d begun the day before with a heart full of hope. And now…
“Talk to me, Shane!”
“Julianna, you knew who I was when you accepted the ring. You knew who I was when you married me. If there’s little things about me that bother you, yeah, I’ll try to change ‘em. But if you wanted a lawyer, you should’ve found one of those. Because that’s not me. And it never will be.”
“You never even tried.”
“I don’t want to try,” he said.
“So you just want to play in a band the rest of your life?”
“No. In addition, I plan to continue being a mathematician, a philosopher, a songwriter, a computer scientist, and a karate instructor. And when I graduate, I want to teach high school.”
“And all that takes up all your time! What, do you just plan to keep squeezing me in, between all that?”
“You never complained before about the amount of time we had together.”
“We weren’t married then!”
“God help me,” Shane breathed, leaning his head back on the seat. He’d heard some women went through a bitch-o-matic transformation after marriage, but he’d always thought it happened gradually, after the honeymoon was over. Theirs hadn’t even officially started yet.
The air in the limousine felt stifling. He tore off his bowtie, tuxedo jacket, vest, and cummerbund, and threw them to the floor. He lifted his long hair in his fist to relieve his neck and shoulders of its weight and heat.
Julianna huddled in the corner, crying, and guilt began to nag at him. He knew he hadn’t handled that exchange well.
His nerves were shot. He hated for people’s eyes to be focused on him and he’d just spent hours enduring it. More than that, though, he was nervous about his ability to perform once they finally reached the hotel bed. He wanted to believe everything would work the way it should, but feared the worst. He thought maybe he’d subconsciously aggravated the situation in order to avoid going to bed with her.
He knew what his problems were but what the hell had gotten into her? Nerves, too, he thought. Further, she likely was dreading the twelve-hour flight and the associated ban on smoking. She had nicotine gum, smokeless cigarettes and patches, but none of that would likely keep her from wanting cigarettes during the flight. And maybe it was the champagne talking. She’d drunk pretty steadily at the reception. Sometimes drinking brought out a temper in her. It had never before made her try to rearrange his life, though.
“Jul?” he said quietly. “Please tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I just… I want…” She shook her head. ”I want a house. Belinda just got engaged and they’re already looking at houses. And our honeymoon will be over and we’ll have to go back to that dinky little apartment!”
“So you just want a house?” he said. “You don’t want me to be a lawyer?”
“It’s all the same thing!” she wailed.
“How is that the same thing?”
“Because I looked at some listings. And there’s no way we can afford a house on a teacher’s salary while I’m in law school. And even after I finish, I won’t make enough all by myself for anything decent. And your father said he would help us get a house if you would go to law school.”
Shane ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Jul, we talked about houses. We agreed we would buy one after we got home from the honeymoon. Remember? You said you wanted to look forward to that after the wedding.”
“But we can’t afford it.”
“Okay, maybe we can’t afford a mansion. But we can afford a decent house.”
“You don’t know that!” she said. “All this time you’ve been living off what you can borrow against a future inheritance you might not even get. And–”
“That’s what you think?”
“Yes!” she said. “And while that might get you cars and computers and amplifiers, I think they might look a little closer into your official earnings, or lack thereof, for something on the magnitude of a house.”
“I have not borrowed a goddamned dime against that old man’s money, Julianna. I told you before, I earn enough for all that shit I buy.”
“Well, I don’t see how you could.”
“Well, regardless of that, I do.”
“So we could afford a house?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I been puttin’ money up, like I told you.”
“How much do you have?”
“I got like three hundred thousand. I figured we would use that for the down payment, finance the rest.”
“How did you get that much money?”
“I make a lot, Jul. Most of it goes back into the businesses.” Computer arrays weren’t cheap. “A lot goes to charity. But I pay myself a decent amount.”
“Why did you never tell me this?”
“I did,” he answered, shrugging. “That time you accused me of blowing the rent money when I bought the new snares. And when you got worried I might’ve spent too much on your ring. I told you then, I wouldn’t buy what I couldn’t afford.”
She studied the diamond on her finger. “So my ring is all paid for?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” she said. “I thought, you know, we’d have to make payments. That was why I got upset about it.”
“I would’ve told you if I had bills like that, carryin’ over.”
“How much do you pay yourself?”
“Usually about a hundred thousand a year,” he answered. “But more like three-hundred-and-fifty thousand, when I’m savin’ up for a house. And at least two-hundred thousand, when I got a wife in law school.”
She laughed. “I love you, Shane.”
“I love you, too, Jul.”
“If you’ve got all that money, how come you never helped me with my bills?”
“Well, I had hoped the experience of juggling your money would enhance your fiscal management skills before you started spending mine.”
“Asshole.”
“I never let you go without, Jul.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You didn’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But you could have helped more with the wedding costs.”
He sighed, closing his eyes.
“It’s true!” she said. “I spent almost all the money my grandmother left me.”
“On stuff I told you I thought was a waste,” he said. “I covered the rehearsal dinner, the flowers, the reception, and the honeymoon. How was that not enough?”
“You could at least have let me get the swan ice sculpture.”
“You got the castle one.”
“But the swan was prettier.”
“And cost ten times as much.”
“Because it was ten times prettier!”
“Nobody needs a six-foot ice swan, Jul.”
“Well, I wanted it.”
He sighed. “You said, yourself, we’re married and we need to be practical. If we went around buyin’ everything we wanted, there wouldn’t be enough money for the stuff that matters.”
“Well, it isn’t fair that the only thing that counts is what you think matters.”
“What would that ice swan have done to enrich your life or anyone else’s?”
She gave him an acid smile. “Well, I’m sure the ice sculpture artist would have appreciated the commission.”
Shane laughed. “Yeah, he prob’ly would’ve. But he didn’t look to be sufferin’ any, with the castle.”
“I wanted that so much,” she said through a pout.
They were quiet for several minutes. Finally, Shane spoke. “Look, if I knew it meant that much to you, I’d have gotten it. Okay?”
“Promise?”
“Yes, Jul,” he said.
She smiled and slid across the seat. He opened his arms to her and pulled her close. She spent several seconds rearranging the dress.
“You sure you don’t want to change before the flight?” he asked.
“Positive,” she said, smiling. “I love being the bride.”
“And you are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” It was true. She looked like a fairytale princess in her Renaissance-inspired gown. The front of her long, blond hair was swept upward toward her crown, and shining waves cascaded over her shoulders.
“My makeup didn’t run?”
“No,” he answered. The makeup was the only thing he didn’t like. She looked too artificial, almost like a plastic bride from a cake top, beautiful to behold but too cold to be held. For what she’d paid for that face, the shit ought to be permanent, but he was glad it wasn’t. At least, he hoped it wasn’t.
Shane trailed kisses down Julianna’s neck, inhaling the jasmine scent as her breathing quickened. She turned her head and he touched his tongue to her lips. He gave her a series of tiny kisses and then pulled away.
“Kiss me better,” she said.
Shane smiled and fully claimed her mouth. Julianna’s earlier caution about her wedding dress seemed forgotten as she moved her body against him. Her hands undid his shirt buttons and then slipped inside to clutch at his back. Minutes later, she lay on the seat, Shane above her.
“Make love to me, Shane,” she whispered.
“You said you wanted to wait until we’re in Hawaii.”
“I changed my mind,” she said, grinding herself against him.
Shane bit his lip, considering the request. It was tempting. They would only get one chance to make love for the first time, though, and she’d already let him know what she wanted from the experience. A tumble in a limousine wasn’t it. “Not ‘til the hotel,” he said, praying he could give her what she wanted then. For the time being, he slipped his hand into the layers of material and up her leg. That, he knew he could do well.
He was still swallowing the sounds of her orgasm when the limousine stopped at the airport entrance.
Laughing, they did their best to put themselves right.
When the door opened, Shane swung out of the limousine with the jacket, tie and cummerbund in one hand, then turned to offer the other to Julianna. He put a gentle kiss on her lips as she gained her feet.
They moved to the smoking area so could have her pre-boarding cigarette. She smoked two in rapid succession and they moved from under the awning and toward the doors.
“It’s raining,” she said in dismay, watching the early-morning drizzle. “What a terrible start to a honeymoon.”