Chapter 1

Lance Claridge’s first assignment required him to be away for such a long time. The project, a survey of the technological needs of the public schools in Colorado, was targeted at four months. His previous gigs had usually taken no more than a couple of weeks. Usually, he stayed in a hotel when he went out of town to work, either flying or driving back to L.A. on the weekends. Since his divorce had been finalized though, he had nobody to go back to and was looking for a place where he could be more comfortable, a place that would give him the feeling of permanence while staying in a remote city.

He stayed in a Holiday Express motel on his first night in Denver. While having breakfast at IHOP he poured through the rentals section of the paper. Scanning Rooms for Rent he came across, “Furnished room for rent: upscale residential neighborhood, laundry privileges, and garage ... Rent $200 per week ... Contact Claire Moore, 432-7761.”

There was nothing special about the ad, it just seemed to pop out at him. He took it as one of those nudges that demanded his attention and decided to look. Just to make sure he wasn’t being foolish though he started at the beginning of the section of Furnished Apartments and covered every listing of interest to the end. When he returned to the “Claire Moore” ad, it had struck him as déjà vu, like he knew exactly what it would say before he got to the end. Reaching for his cell phone he dialed the number.

The woman’s voice was honey, the kind that you would dip your finger into and taste its sweetness. He thought she was just a soft-spoken, older woman not yet old enough for her voice to have become raspy. There was nothing sexual in his attraction to the woman, but her voice was magnetic. As he listened to her giving him directions, he remembered his aunt Mary and how her voice was like balm to his ears. Even though there were no sexual intentions on Aunt Mary’s part he had fantasized about her a lot during his puberty and teenage years—even recently. As with so many young males, his aunt was the one woman in the family who seemed to be his ultimate fantasy.

As he drove past the graceful white Colonial with green shutters and a red door, he saw an attractive woman looking out the front window. If she was Claire Moore, she was much younger than he had envisioned. He wondered what circumstances might have caused a woman like the one in the window to advertise for a tenant. Maybe she was Claire Moore’s daughter. The house was in an upscale neighborhood, just as she had said on the phone.

Getting out of his 1992 black Porsche Roadster he walked up the short sidewalk and climbed the three front steps. Wearing dark blue Dockers, a teal Polo shirt, and Sperry Topsiders—no socks—he stood six feet tall and had an angular, athletic face that was highlighted by clear blue eyes ... his short hair was light brown. He knocked on the door. There was a slight delay in its being opened. “You must be Mr. Claridge,” the woman said offering her hand. “I’m Claire Moore.”

“Lance Claridge,” he said clasping her firm, warm hand. His stomach sank as he thought, How could a woman like this be taking in a tenant—especially a single man?

She was much younger than Lance expected, probably between 35 and 40 ... extremely attractive. Her fine facial features were framed by mid-length auburn hair which hung slightly below her shoulders, flipping out at the end. Her hazel eyes were crisp in their clarity, her dainty nose turned up, and her full lips wore a coral shade of lipstick. Wearing khaki pants and a navy silk blouse that was augmented by a single string of pearls, Claire Moore’s body looked young and athletic. She had nice legs and well-proportioned breasts which Lance estimated to be in the area of 34C.

As they walked into the living room, he noticed a picture on the fireplace mantle. It was of Claire, an attractive, athletic-looking man and a teenage girl who looked like she could be a cheerleader. “Your family?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, “my husband and my daughter Stacy. Charles is overseas on a project. He’ll be gone for at least another six months. Stacy is a senior in high school, she just turned seventeen.”

Noticing the subtle raise of Claridge’s eyebrows Claire thought, He has to think this is strange. But she had been trying to rent the room for close to a month. She had been hoping for a woman, maybe a college student, but it hadn’t yet worked out. Looking out the window at the expensive car she said, “If you take the room there’s a space in the garage for your car.”

“I just feel a bit awkward, Mrs. Moore. It feels kinda strange coming into someone’s house to rent a room, particularly at my age and stage in life.”

She smiled and said, “Please call me Claire, Mr. Claridge.”

“Lance,” he said, returning her smile.

She didn’t know how to explain her situation ... felt he wouldn’t accept what she said anyway. God, she thought, how could I have gotten into this situation in the first place? But her finances were so tight that she was getting desperate. “I know this must seem strange, Mr. um Lance. But my husband Charles has been gone for over three months now.”

“So, what’s keeping him away?”

She thought I had better tell it all if I wanted to have a chance. “I’m so embarrassed to be telling you this Mr ... Lance but my husband has a gambling addiction that has gotten our family into serious financial trouble.”

Wondering if the woman was trying to scam him in some way Lance looked askance at Claire Moore. He eyed the picture on the mantel. They look like such a healthy, happy family. “So, isn’t his job helping your situation?”

“You probably don’t understand how a gambling compulsion can amass such a large debt, Lance.” Resigned to tell as much as she could she went on. “The company he works for specializes in construction projects in hazardous areas. They pay very well. But as part of the deal, they hold the money in a New York bank—at an extremely high interest rate—and pay it in one lump sum at the end of each year.”

“So, what does he live on?”

“They cover all of his living expenses while he is there. Hopefully, the stash will allow him to pay off all the gambling debts. And we’ll be able to keep the house.”

“Aren’t you working?”

“The number you called is the real estate office where I work. I make enough for Stacy’s and my expenses, but I’m coming up short on the house payment. We depended on Charles’s regular income for that.”

“I have to tell you, Claire,” Lance said, “This is quite an unusual circumstance. I don’t know how comfortable I could be with it.”

Trying to hide the desperation in her eyes she said, “I’ve been trying to rent the room for over a month, Lance. I had hoped for a female, maybe a college student. But the university has just opened three new dormitories.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I know it’s a strange situation but...” She held out her hands, palms up, and shrugged her shoulders.

The truth was that Lance didn’t think he would feel uncomfortable about living in the house with this beautiful woman. Sexy thoughts were already causing ripples of guilt. However, the complication of a teenage daughter made the situation even more challenging for him. He didn’t think it was going to work out. It’s just too awkward.

It was even more awkward for Claire. Silently cursing her husband, she asked, “Does that mean you’re not interested in the room?”

His response was defensive. “I didn’t say that.” I should just get the hell out of here. But he wanted a bit more time in the presence of this gorgeous woman. Buying a little more of it he said, “Maybe I should take a look at the room.”

As she led the way up the stairs Claire’s khaki-clad behind was right at Lance’s eye level. Her buns in the tightly stretched fabric were well-defined. While thinking, either she’s wearing a thong or she isn’t wearing panties at all, he castigated himself for allowing his mind to fall into his scrotum. Just to make conversation he said, “This is a nice house Mrs. M ... Claire. And how old did you say your daughter is?” Jesus, she probably thinks I’m such a creep.

Claire stopped, turned, and looked at him. Assessing him with her clear hazel eyes she thought Am I playing with fire here and asked, “You’re not some kind of weirdo, are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Lance said. “It’s just ... It’s just that it feels like it would be odd for a strange man to be alone in a house with two women, I mean a woman and a young girl.”

Continuing up the steps Claire looked back at him. “She’s seventeen. If you take the room, you’ll have to share a bathroom with her. And I have to warn you, Lance” she chuckled, “she can be a bit um ... messy.”

At the top of the stairs, Claire turned her head sideways and said, “As far as the rest of the house is concerned you can make use of the living room and kitchen as long as we don’t get in each other’s way.” The ad had been just for the room. I’m out of my mind, she thought.

Standing in the doorway she made way for Lance to enter the bedroom. It was a spacious room with a large desk in front of the window and an easy chair in the corner. There were shelves on one side of the desk and a file cabinet on the other. The closet was empty, as were the drawers in the large dresser. Testing the bed, Lance looked over at Claire whose cheeks turned pink when she noticed the look in his eye. To cover the strained embarrassment, he asked, “What did you say your husband is doing overseas?”

Clearing her throat she said, “He’s an engineer. He’s in charge of building a bridge.”

Looking around the room he asked, “Might you have a hook-up for my computer?”

“Do you have a wireless card on your computer?” she asked.

“It’s a new laptop, yes.”

“My husband uses this room as his office; he put wireless in last year.” She bent down under the desk and pointed. “There’s an additional phone jack right here. You can order phone service if you want.”

Claire worked out almost every day, she was proud of the shape she was in. As she was leading him up the steps, she knew he was looking at her behind and felt cheap having put it in his face like that. But she was so anxious to entice a tenant to the room.

The swelling in Lance’s groin pressed against the leg of his pants. “I’ll take the room, Claire.” Christ, he thought, I might as well be a teenage boy. “I work late into the night on my computer. Would that be a problem?”

“Stacy and I are both sound sleepers. You won’t bother us.”

As she led the way into the bathroom she said, “Shoot!” Bending down she picked up a black thong and dropped it into the hamper. “My daughter’s...” she explained, her face becoming ruddy. What she couldn’t have known was that Lance’s sole fetish was women’s lingerie. He knew he could be in for a treat later. Rummaging through strange hampers had become so common for him that he wasn’t even bothered. He did wonder though what Claire might think if she could read his mind.

A door slammed downstairs and broke the uncomfortable silence as a girl’s voice called, “MOM?”

Lance heard her running up the stairs. When she got to the landing, she looked at her mother with pouting lips as if she were in some kind of a snit. When she saw the strange, attractive man standing next to her mother her demeanor made an immediate U-turn. He recognized her from the picture in the living room. She had her mother’s shapely legs which were nicely displayed by her short jeans skirt. Her spaghetti strap top showed off her enticing cleavage.