Adduné - the Vampire's Game (63 page)

Miranda’s humor broke the tension. Tiffany giggled as she answered.

“
Yes, you would! And the pinkie could act like a stake to be driven into the heart. You sure it wasn’t a wooden appendage shaped to look like a finger?”

“
Probably is. Nothing would surprise me at this point! Christ, Tiffany, this is about my dad! Do you have any idea how badly I feel about finding this out about him?”

Tiffany gave Miranda’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“
Chickie, believe me I understand. I would hate to hear anything bad about my dad. Yeah, I know he’s this big bad real estate developer, but to me he’s poppa bear.”

“
Exactly. It doesn’t change anything though, Tiffany. I still love him, and I’m going to make this right.”

“
Of course! You didn’t even need to say that! You’re daddy’s little girl and he was a wonderful man. You’re not wrong about that.”

“
No, I’m not, am I? He just wasn’t perfect.”

“
Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.”

Miranda stretched in her chair and ran her hands through her hair.

“
And now, of course, I need to apologize to Reginald and … “

“
And?”

Miranda thought about mentioning Peter, but decided to leave him out of the conversation. She was the one that had been wrong – even if he had acted like a bastard. Miranda tried to imagine her father in the same situation. How would her father have acted meeting the relative of someone that had stole his property and put it on display to boot? Probably the same way.

“
God, Tiff, I feel I need to let loose. Can’t wait to shake a tail feather!”

“
You sure you still want to go?” Tiffany said as she grabbed the appraisal. She stared at the last page and then began writing on the napkin. Miranda watched her spell out the name T.R. Koers.

“
Definitely. I’m in the mood and I need to stop thinking about this. I do not feel like calling anyone or doing anything until I recharge.”

“
Then let’s go!”

“
Great. I can wear that nice little almost there dress I just bought!”

“
Hmmm… yeah, it looked so great on you,” Tiffany replied staring at the napkin. “I put your booty in the your bedroom.”

Miranda took the mugs off the table and brought them over to the sink. There were two cups and matching plates – pieces of Tiffany’s best china - already in there. Miranda knew that Tiffany only used it when she had company.

“
You know, chickie, it’s weird, but this name … on the appraisal …”

“
Tiffany was anyone here?”

Tiffany laughed and got up from the table with the napkin in her hand. She put her hands on Miranda’s shoulders.

“
Yes, there was. Forgot to mention it in all the excitement. How did you know?”

Miranda pointed to the plates, “You never use that good stuff unless you have a special kind of company.”

“
God, you know me so well! Yes, that’s true and yes, somebody is going to be real happy you’re going to that club tonight.”

“
The person who was here you mean?”

“
Yes, that’s who I mean. It was that guy we saw last night. The tall, blonde, hunko one.”

“
Peter?”

“
Bingo! He asked about you, but you were out …”

“
But how did he know I was here?”

“
Because he saw you there … with me … connect the dots! I’m not exactly unknown!”

“
Sorry.”

“
Hey, not everything has to be a great big mystery or conspiracy.”

“
I suppose not.”

“
I hope you’re not interested in that guy.”

“
Why? I thought you said he was gorgeous?”

“
Definitely gorgeous. I’ll give him that, but there’s something weird about him. The …”

“…
creep factor! Isn’t that what you used to call it in college?”

“
Exactly, although I haven’t used that exact term for a while. Then again, I haven’t come across anyone like ...” Tiffany folded her arms around her and shivered. She kept them in a caress, protecting herself from the unnamed evil. “I can’t put my finger on what it is. He just gives me the willies. When you stand next to him, there’s this coldness. It’s not apparent from far away, but it’s like you can feel the temperature drop when you’re near him. I’d just stay away from him if I were you.”

Miranda smiled. Staying away was the furthest thing from her mind right now.

“
He just takes a little getting used to.”

“
It’s strange that I’m being so negative about him when he did me a huge favor.”

“
Okay, I am curious. What favor did he do for you?”

“
He returned my credit card.”

“
What?”

“
Yeah, he said he found it at the club, but we’d already left so …”

“
He came here to return it,” Miranda said completing Tiffany’s sentence.

“
Exactly.”

“
Call me crazy, but that doesn’t sound all that horrible to me.”

“
Yeah, whatever. I thanked him and it was nice, but … and anyway, I thought you weren’t all that into him? Last night, you gave the impression that you didn’t like him all that much.”

“
Forget last night, Tiff! Tonight is the dawning of a new day.”

Miranda gave her friend a hug and a quick peck on her cheek.

“
Now what was it you wanted to say before I so rudely interrupted you, my dear, dear friend?”

Tiffany looked down at the napkin she held in her hand. Miranda didn’t need any more problems. She crumpled it into a tight wad and tossed it away.

“
Nothing. Nothing at all. It was all part of yesterday.”

CHAPTER 32

By the time Tiffany and Miranda arrived at the club, Miranda had her bearings. She was no longer wallowing in self-pity or self-doubt. Winners were fighters and winners fought back. They didn’t bathe in the murky waters of being morose and depressed. Nor did they indulge in beating themselves up – the world itself served that purpose. No negative emotions built nests in Miranda or the select group of people like her. It’s what kept them on top – and winning.

Miranda preened as she walked into The Paparazzi. She looked fabulous and she knew it. She tossed her head back – making the most of her loose curly mane. She kept her face neutral, pressing her lips into a smile to accentuate her cheekbones. The dress she chose was a short, black jersey halter. A pair of soft, metallic silver ankle strap shoes were worn at the end of her outrageously long, slim legs. The dress and shoes were both results of her afternoon’s spending spree.

She trailed slightly behind Tiff watching the pink ruffled chiffon silk dress dance in the breeze. Tiff’s olive skin looked exciting and exotic next to the ultra-feminine color. The backless dress showed off Tiff’s trim, muscular body. Hours of Pilates and light weights gave her a dancer’s body.

Alex spotted Tiffany almost immediately. Miranda gave Tiffany the secret signal that indicated it was fine for her to leave her alone. Miranda separated from her friend and joined the flash of people living in nanoseconds and a centipedal rush. She felt high being around them. She drank in the energy feeling her sensations heighten from the madness of youth, power, and money. It was almost as if they were all riding superspeed trains that traveled on their own individual monorails. Tonight the club was their destination – the hub of their collective universe. Their separate individual lives converged and Miranda was the recipient of the combustible fusion. She planned on making the most of it, but first she needed a drink to shake the cobwebs out. Then she’d help set it off.

Miranda pushed her way past the men trying to catch her eye. The minute she entered the barroom area, she saw Peter. He was sitting at a table with a raven-haired woman that offered a vague resemblance to Rachel – at least from behind. She was curious to see what kind of girl would attract Peter’s attention and if her eyes were blue. She tried to get a clearer look, but couldn’t because of the crowd blocking her view and the angle.

An attractive redhead was tugged away from the bar by an eager young stallion eager to get her on the dance floor. Miranda slid into the vacated seat. She thought about Peter and what Tiffany had said. It was nothing that Miranda didn’t know. The problem was she found his differences appealing. As for the woman he was with, she was being ridiculous in even caring. She was going to put a stop to comparing herself to other women – her mother included. She was done approaching the dating scene like a scared rabbit. Instead, she’d think like a man. Men never let their own paunch or pot bellies stop them from pursuing the women of their dreams. Besides, Miranda knew she was desirable. She needed to keep repeating that to herself on an as needed basis. She crossed her legs and watched her skirt hike high up on her lithe bare thigh. There were more than a few men that would be happy to dive in between the matching pair. If Peter wasn’t one, it was his loss. If he preferred another type, let him, but Miranda had never been a big fan of the obvious.

Dexter was working the bar – busily filling previous orders. She tried to flag him down, but failed. He kept his head down as he burned rubber getting from one part of the bar to the other. She put her elbows on the counter and waited. It wouldn’t be much longer. Besides she had all night.

“
Good evening, Miranda.”

It was Peter. She didn’t need to turn around to identify him. There was something about his voice – his presence. Her body tingled from having him so near. Miranda coolly turned and looked into the mesmerizing eyes of
Just Peter
. They seemed to have an aquamarine cast to them tonight.

“
Won’t your friend be jealous?”

“
Myrtha? We’re just friends.”

The man sitting next to Miranda tapped Peter on the shoulder. He got up and offered his seat to him to make the conversation easier. Peter tipped his head and acknowledged the courtesy. As he settled, Miranda watched Myrtha exit – or what she could see of her.

“
Bye-bye, Myrtha,”
Miranda whispered under her breath.

Miranda caught Dexter’s attention. Peter ordered for both of them.

“
I hope you don’t mind.”

“
Not at all. I’m a little surprised.”

“
And, why is that?” Peter asked, leaning in towards her. He took a finger and ran it along her cheek. It felt sensual and nice.

“
I’m getting mixed signals from you. First, the insult, then the haphazard apology that really wasn’t one. Then you stopped by … but to give Tiffany her credit card and not to see me. Then, I find you here, with a …
friend
who you immediately cast off to sit with someone you don’t find attractive. You’re worse than a woman.”

Peter scratched his temple.

“
With that phrasing, you’re making any retort impossible. If I deny it, I’m saying women are always changing their mind and if I don’t agree, I’m saying the same thing.”

“
Pretty much,” Miranda said enjoying making him squirm.

“
As I said, Myrtha and I are friends. I don’t get to New York that often and who should I see? Besides you should be flattered since I was telling her all about you …”

“
Me?” Miranda interrupted. Dexter placed their drinks on the counter. Miranda took hers in her hand and tasted it. “Mmmm… good.”

“
Are you? Too bad. I had big plans.”

“
Did you now? Well, they may not go to waste. And as for what you said about Myrtha, was that your attempt at gamesmanship? I painted you in a box, and now you’re painting me in a corner? No matter what I say, I’ll come up looking insecure if I don’t accept the compliment and the prospect that you were discussing me. Is that about it?”

“
Did I ever tell you that I simply love intelligent women?”

Peter raised his drink indicating he was about to give a toast. Miranda reciprocated.