The Greener Field

Unexpected Chemistry

The whole rest of the week, the two young women tried to go about their separate lives—Sarah back to the Speech and Language clinic, and Carrie on a new FBI investigative assignment in San Francisco. Neither was perceived in any regular way, as the event of witnessing Jess Danford fall to his death from the cliffs of La Jolla marked them indelibly. For Sarah, who was welcomed back to work by her fellow therapists that week, totally unaware of her nightmarish ordeal, there was the appearance of their usual warm way.

This was also true of her young clients and their mothers. But Sarah's life had now become anything but warm and wonderful, as it was currently reduced to a series of ferried car trips by her father, to and from her workplace and then back to her parents' house for the night. Needless to say, the last thing on Sarah' once carefree mind was any attraction to men, and tough Gunther Hoffmann could have easily been a potential interest to her under different circumstances, she now simply minimized his presence in her mind.

With Carrie, Hoffmann was a different story. His recent admission to her of an interest, romantically and sexually, created and emotional atmosphere of unexpected disturbance. One which surprised the usually stoical and independent Carrie. What was it about him she found so attractive? His line of work? His mysterious ways? The heroics he displayed?  This current interest seemed almost to eclipse her involvement with her friend's dire situation, and it quickly had become a secondary, yet significant reason for wanting to return to San Diego for the weekend. For Carrie's thoughts now were not only on a stakeout strategy to capture the perverted Derek Iverson, but also to return to the warm proximity of Hoffmann and his alluring conversations.

It was, however, for both these reasons that by mid-week, Carrie had arranged for a series of weekend hotel bookings in La Jolla, to continue for at least a full month. And she arranged this at a small inn, nearby the palm tree-lined La Valencia Hotel. The quaint and private venue she had chosen was called SeaBreeze, and it was within walking distance from Hoffmann's hotel lobby and exquisite suite at the landmark premises where he had taken up indefinite residence.

When Carrie arrived that Friday evening at SeaBreeze, following a two hour flight from San Francisco, she first called Sarah, in essence to take her psychic temperature.

"Hey Little Sis . . . you never called this week. Does that mean things are going too well these days?"

"Hardly well, Carrie. I'm a goddamned prisoner now."

"Aright, so I'm here to change all that. Had any contacts with . . . Mr. Sex Tapes?"

"You always say the right things, don't you, Carrie."

"Sorry sweetie. I'm just getting to be too hard working with the force as I do. Guess I should go on a year's break. Maybe work as a kindergarten teacher for a while." She laughed.

"Well it certainly wouldn't hurt your bedside manner."

"Yeah. And speaking of bedsides . . . have you heard from our gorgeous P.I.?"

"There you go again about this guy, Carrie. Hoffmann's not that special. Really. Is he?"

"You can't tell, Miss Ice Princes?  You've lost your whole attraction apparatus, babe."

"You know, Carrie. . . I think I really have. Romance and sex are just the last things on my mind. When this is all over, I'll probably join a convent in France and spend my days gardening."

"Come on sweetie. You'll bounce back after this chapter of your life. Trust me. It's just a bad chapter. There'll be others. Wild and beautiful ones. Filled with romance and all night, sweat-dripping sex. I'm sure of it."