Free The Way You Make Me Feel by Francine Craft Page B

very long time. Here, could I have a hug?” She hugged Stevie a long time. She had heard about the trouble, but didn’t mention it.
    The decor of the offices was blue-green, with pandanus wood furnishings, chrome and glass. Tables fashioned of heavy plate glass held up by gnarled driftwood added even more luxury.
    Sheila, Damien’s private secretary and right-hand woman, greeted Damien and hugged Stevie. Middle-aged and very attractive with loosely coiffed silver hair and unlined skin, she was a dynamo. “I’ve got a room ready for you to compose in,” she told Stevie. “I put in fresh carnations and a big bowl of raw cashews. And oh yes, I’m lending you Robbie, my robin, and his cage to keep you company. If you need anything, just holler. Have you two had coffee?”
    They both nodded and went into the cozy cream-colored room that was shaped like an egg and had always fascinated Stevie.
    â€œYou know,” she said, “I’m going to have a room built like this one. I wish I’d thought of it while my house was under construction.”
    â€œYou can come here at any time.”
    â€œThank you, but I would like my own. I’ll come here, too.”
    Damien kept looking at her and, unbidden, a picture came to his mind of her body swollen with his baby. Yeah, he had held a few women, but he couldn’t remember having a fantasy of quite this intensity, not even with Honi.
    â€œWhy are you looking at me like that?”
    â€œLike what?” But he knew what she meant.
    She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just a strange look.”
    â€œUnwelcome?”
    â€œWhatever it is, I think you know the answer to that.”
    Â 
    The room she was in was an inspiration in itself, Stevie thought. She was a success, but Damien was an explosive success. And he gave back to the community with a vengeance. Unlike Jake who largely scorned community activities, Damien helped everyone he could.
    She settled down at an oval-shaped heavy-glass table with a pad, a large sheaf of plain paper for brainstorming and a Parker ballpoint pen. Her father had given her a similar pen when she was seven and she had begun to write poetry and song lyrics. The high-powered CD player purred Dvorak’s “Romantic Pieces,” and the beautiful melodies swirled around her. She already had the first two verses of the song and the rest of it was very much in her mind.
    She leaned back. “The Way You Make Me Feel” had taken over her spirit. It was always a good sign when a song came to life like this. It had lingered on the edges of her creative womb for a while, but only since she’d become closer to Damien had it come in fully. Damien the enigma. A nice guy. A player? Philanthropist. Hunk. One thing she knew, he was out of her league.
    Jake had proved to be just your ordinary dog of a man, taking women where he found them. Women had called him at all hours of the day and night. At first he had lied and said they were all business, women he had to see. Later, he hadn’t bothered to lie. “You’re such a hayseed,” he’d often said. “Not one little bit of sophistication. A man like me is always going to have extra women. I’m too much for one woman. You’re just going to have to get used to it, babe.”
    She hadn’t gotten used to it and had continued to protest. Then the shakings and the slaps had begun and the heavier beating when she’d had him arrested.
    Yesterday Detective Rollins and Damien had told her about Bretta and Keith Muncy and how she had stood up for Bretta. Her friend had won her divorce case handily in spite of the high-priced lawyers the wealthy Keith had been able to hire. There had been a large sum of money settled on her, but he had kidnapped and beaten her again and been arrested and sent to prison.
    Picking up the Zemaitis Heart-Hole guitar Sheila had handed her, she plucked a few strings, tightened them and