Chapter Thirty: Sally At The Wheel
Even after midnight, the tiny island club was packed. It was a lively crowd, mostly rich young tourists rubbing up against each other on the dance floor. The club had a sultry, sexy vibe, with music to match. The moans of the female singer matched the throbbing beat, the musky melody overflowing with desire.
"Another Tropical Sunset?" The slim, good-looking native waiter smiled at the solitary young woman seated in the corner booth. She was a bit too plump and a little pale, but her haughty bearing gave off a very faint, old-fashioned allure. Shyness and refinement mixed with loads of class and money.
"Thanks." Mary didn't notice the hungry look the male waiter gave her body, which was tired and sweaty and squeezed into a too-tight dress. The Tudor princess only had eyes for one person, and it was the skinny blonde on the dance floor. The long-legged girl was laughing loudly as she danced with two boys at once.
Sally Weeks was definitely enjoying herself!
"Goodness! You haven't been sitting here alone all this time, have you?" Sally's bright blue eyes sparkled like diamonds. Her cheeks were glowing with undisguised pleasure as she returned from the dance floor. But her chirpy voice held a slight note of irritation, as though Mary was a dumpy old maid deliberately spoiling her fun.
"I don't like the club scene." Mary quickly downed the rest of her drink. The fruit and vodka mix made her head spin. "Feel rotten."
"Well, naturally. The more time you spend sitting alone, the more rotten you're going to feel!" With a naughty laugh, Sally tried to pull the reluctant Tudor princess to her feet. "Honestly, I think you'll feel much better if you get out on the floor. Let's dance!"
"No!" Mary didn't realize how loud her voice would sound when the sexy dance number clicked off and the sweaty club fell suddenly silent. All at once dozens of eager eyes were on her. The young, tanned tourists ate her up with their curious stares.
"Come on, let's get out of here." Though she hated crowds, Mary felt sluggish and dazed, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. It was Sally who snapped her out of it, seizing her arm in a firm grip and dragging her out into the cool night air.
"Don't like crowds," Mary mumbled. Sally was in the driver's seat, driving them home in the little car they'd rented that afternoon. Her clever, strikingly pretty assistant was pale and tight-lipped. Mary sensed her anger. Her own head was pounding, and she was only just beginning to realize how much she'd had to drink.
"Some people don't understand that a servant has rights," Sally whispered. She was clearly furious. "A servant has feelings! Just a few hours off . . . a little music and a bit of fun . . . but of course that's not acceptable. It's not appropriate. It's not allowed!"
Mary knew that a royal should not allow such talk. She had to maintain the upper hand. She had to put the girl back in her place! Instead she clutched Sally's arm with a pleading look on her face.
"Sally, stop the car. Please stop!"
Sally hit the brakes at once. But instead of giving the girl a talking to, Mary simply collapsed by the side of the road. She wasn't ill. She'd just had too much to drink. The next thing she knew, she was throwing up into a ditch. It was dreadful. What made it worse was that Sally was perfectly lovely, holding back her hair while she heaved and giving her slow, careful sips of water from a plastic sports bottle. All Mary could do was to apologize, over and over, with tears rolling down her cheeks.
The next morning, Queen Jane rang up the little island cottage. The smartphone was on the tiny table right next to Mary's bed, but Mary was in a state of oblivion, out cold after her late night. Since the Tudor princess was obviously unable to respond, Sally finally forced her way into the stuffy little bedroom and picked up.
"Yes, Your Majesty! We've arrived safely. It was a lovely flight. No, we've got no plans for the day. The princess is looking forward to exploring the island. Yes, it's just after ten here. Catching up on her sleep after dancing all night at the local club!" Sally paused, listening with respect to the monarch on the other end. "Oh, how exciting! Yes, Your Majesty. Yes, she is. I'm sure the princess will find that very interesting. I'll tell her the moment she awakes!"
"Tell me what?" Mary awoke with a loud groan. Her tongue felt furry, her mouth tasted foul and her head was pounding.
"There's some sort of climate change conference on the other side of the island. You know, at that big fancy hotel. Are we interested in going? Or do we want to lie in bed all day?" As she hovered over the sleepy princess still sprawling in bed, Sally laughed aloud. Her French perfume tantalized and teased Mary's sluggish senses. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
"I want to lie in bed with you!" Mary growled and groped for the girl, feeling almost dizzy with desire in spite of her fierce hangover. But Sally laughed and slipped away after a single kiss, leaving Mary wanting more.
"None of that, my lady! Jump into the shower and I'll see to it that you have something to wear to the climate conference. And no hanky-panky on the drive over. Queen Jane is counting on us!"
"All right." As she stripped off and hurried naked into the shower, Mary almost felt like inviting her assistant to jump in too. But Sally was clearly serious about making sure they arrived on time. And maybe it would be better to wait. The pulsing jets of very hot water felt marvelous against her skin, soothing tired muscles and invigorating her thoroughly. Before long Mary was soaping her breasts and singing at the top of her voice. She didn't realize it was the sexy club song from the night before. She just had a very clear picture of Sally on the dance floor, dancing only with her.