Сандра Ингерман

Книга церемоний. Шаманская мудрость для пробуждения сакрального в повседневности


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      “Balcony,” Sage finished, taking a glass of champagne from another passing waiter. “He liked the drama, but wasn’t a fan of anything physical. Like pain. Or work.”

      “Except sex with mirrors,” AnaMaria intoned, grinning before sipping her own champagne.

      “Exactly,” Sage agreed, figuring it was better to laugh through the pain. It was that or cry.

      Was it too much to want a guy who was dedicated to what he did, had that deep passion for life—and the ability to please a woman without using strange kink? If he just had that, she’d put up with all of the negative qualities. Because if she was learning nothing else on this quest she called life, it was that everyone came with negatives. The trick was to find people who had more positives to balance that out.

      Too bad she wasn’t having much luck on that score. She drained her glass in a single gulp, the bubbles hitting her fast.

      “Sage, I want you to meet someone,” Nina said, her words as bright as her excited smile. The brunette slid into an empty chair and helped herself to a mushroom from AnaMaria’s plate. “He’s really cute, smart and single. You’ll love him.”

      “How’d you know she’s single?” AnaMaria asked, shifting her plate farther out of reach. “Just a week ago she was sharing the awesomeness that was her rocker-boy.”

      “He’s not here, is he?”

      “So? That doesn’t mean anything where Sage is concerned. She never brings guys home. Even when she says she will, she finds a way to avoid it.”

      “You’re right,” Nina said, her tone contemplative as they both turned searching looks on Sage. “Why do you think that is? Maybe she’s ashamed of us?”

      “More likely she doesn’t want her guy to know she comes from such a normal upbringing.”

      “Or perhaps she knows you’ll make inappropriate comments and embarrass us all,” Sage interrupted, rolling her eyes.

      “There is that,” Nina acknowledged with a big smile, taking her next bite off of Sage’s plate. “So? What do you say?”

      “To what?”

      “To meeting this guy.”

      “A fix-up?” Sage asked, cringing.

      “Not a fix-up. A date while you’re home. What?” Nina said, her expression as innocent as she could make it. “Were you going to hide at your dad’s the entire visit?”

      “I hadn’t really thought about it.” She hadn’t actually thought past where she’d snag some work to buy herself a plane ticket back to Seattle. Even though it was time to move on, she still had to pack up.

      And figure out where she wanted to go next.

      “So, give Jeffrey a chance while you’re here. A date or two. What’s the harm? You might find out you like him.”

      “What’s he do?”

      “He’s a doctor.”

      AnaMaria laughed at the horror on Sage’s face.

      “Um, no, thank you,” Sage said, waving both palms in the air to indicate the end of that train of thought.

      “Why not? You’ve already tried the Indian chief. You might as well give a lawyer and a doctor a try.”

      “He wasn’t a chief. He was a fire dancer,” Sage muttered. “And I’m not interested in professional guys. You know that.”

      “I don’t see why not,” Nina muttered before launching into a soliloquy about this guy’s glowing traits.

      Barely listening, Sage’s eyes cut across the hall to her father, who was drinking scotch and chatting with the groom’s father. As usual, it was weird to see the Professor without a book in hand. Her earliest memories were of him reading to her. She’d spent her toddler years after her mother had died playing at his feet while he worked at his desk, at home or at the university.

      Her every memory of her father was colored by his dedication to learning. His avocation for amassing and honoring knowledge. A worthy goal, and something she was very proud of him for.

      But that didn’t mean he was the kind of guy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Been there, done that. She wanted spiritual instead of cerebral.

      “Give him a chance,” Nina persuaded. “He’s really cute. And isn’t it time you tried someone new?”

      “Like guys are flavors of ice cream?”

      “Hey, you’re the one who’s vowed to avoid vanilla.”

      “C’mon, Nina,” AnaMaria said, nudging their friend with her shoulder. “If Sage wanted a guy like her dad, she’d just hook up with Aiden Masters. He’s got all those qualities going on, plus he’s got the best body of any guy who’s ever come out of Villa Rosa.”

      They all paused for a second to pay mental homage to Aiden’s hot body, then Nina waved her hand through the air as if dispersing the image from everyone’s mind.

      “Aiden isn’t here. And he’s not Sage’s type. Jeffrey is here, and while he might not be the type Sage has gone for in the past, he could be now.”

      “No,” Sage decided adamantly. “Maybe I haven’t figured out what kind of guy is perfect for me yet. But I do know what kind isn’t perfect. As much as I adore my father, I don’t want a guy like him. Dedication, focus and intensity are all well and good. But I want more than that. I want passion and creativity and drama.”

      “Drama leads to guys jumping off the first-floor balcony,” AnaMaria reminded her.

      Ugh. Good point. But Sage shrugged it off, focusing instead on the delight of building her vision.

      “I want a guy who makes me shiver with his insights,” she expanded, staring at the white wall as if the image of that guy would coalesce there. “One who has excitement and dedication and a soul-deep hunger for exploring the depths of the human experience.”

      AnaMaria and Nina exchanged glances, then Nina shook her head.

      “If I were you, I’d settle on great sex.”

      “Sex?” Sage repeated with a baffled look. How could Nina equate sex to a spiritual nirvana?

      “Sure. With the right guy, you’ll get all of that and an orgasm. Shivers, excitement, and deep exploration. What more does a girl want?”

      Sage contemplated the last few months of mirror-focused sex and sighed.

      What more, indeed.

      Two weeks ago

      “AFTER ALL OF YOUR YEARS of plotting and planning, of saving bridal magazines and making lists, you eloped?”

      “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” Nina said, looking so content Sage couldn’t even teasingly chide her. “Besides, I didn’t think you could get back until summer and I didn’t want to wait that long to become Mrs. Jeffrey Philips.”

      “I can’t believe you married my doctor,” Sage said, laughing as she wandered through Nina’s new living room. Filled with thick carpets, rich wood and silk-covered furniture, it was posh to say the least. She wasn’t surprised that after less than two weeks her friend had already unpacked and settled in. Nina was good at that.

      “Well, you weren’t going to date him. I figured I’d give it a try,” Nina said, stretching out on the divan with a contented look on her face.

      “You said you’d never marry a guy who had a job that might come before you, remember? I can’t imagine a doctor doesn’t put his career in the top slot.”

      Nina’s shrug was as luxurious as the room itself. Clearly priorities were adjustable if the bank account was big enough.