Night Whispers (10 page)

He really didn’t want to go. Mitch didn’t care for college functions anymore, neither the boring faculty ones, nor the raucous student ones. And the Halloween ball, usually held at a downtown hotel, was traditionally a combination of both.

But Kelsey needed him. He couldn’t refuse. And it absolutely would not be a date. He’d be simply a stand-in for Nathan, he decided, a male body to run interference between Kelsey and any overzealous fan.

“All right, I’ll come. But don’t try to put me in costume.”

“You have to wear a costume! They’re not letting anybody in who’s not in costume.”

Mitch rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in resignation. “I suppose I could come up with something, though I have no idea how, since the party’s next week and I’m absolutely swamped with work.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” she assured him. “You’re doing me a big favor by coming, so I will take care of your costume. I’m sure we’ve got something at the station that will fit you. As a matter of fact, I seem to remember seeing a biker outfit, lots of black leather and chains…”

“Oh, no, no leather.” Mitch held his hands up in protest. “I am sure I’ll be seeing colleagues and perhaps even former students at this party. Nothing too outrageous, please? Just traditional Halloween fare? A sheet with two holes might work.”

“Or it could be a sheet with twenty holes,” she replied, “and you could go around saying, ‘I got a rock.’”

Her reference came to mind instantly, and he laughed. “That’s me, Charlie Brown…and, hey, I see a definite resemblance between you and Lucy.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“Kels, you want the truth, or you want me to lie?” he asked with mock sincerity.

“Maybe we’d better just forget I asked.”

“Good idea,” he said.

“Anyway, I thought maybe you saw me as the little red-haired girl.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me the big, goofy male pining away for the beautiful unattainable girl.”

“I’m not unattainable, Mitch,” she said softly.

She lowered her lashes, casting him a sultry glance, and Mitch took a step back. “Knock it off.” He pointed a finger at her. “Friends, remember?”

She gave a deep, exaggerated sigh and stretched like a cat. “Oh, well, can’t blame a girl for trying.”

Mitch watched the sinuous movement of her body, and was hit in the stomach with another rush of excitement. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mitch, stop throwing out openings like that one if you don’t want me to come back at you with some very specific suggestions.”

Her words brought lots of specific suggestions to his head, and he closed his eyes to picture them. Kelsey in a white negligee, Kelsey in the bath, Kelsey in his arms…Kelsey everywhere!

When he finally opened his eyes, he saw her staring at him intently. Their eyes locked for a moment, then she slowly smiled at him, challenging him to tell her what was on his mind.

“You really are very wicked, Kelsey Logan.”

“Maybe that’s why you like me so much,” she retorted.

Kelsey broke the stare and walked toward the door. “I really need to get out of here. If I’ve got two costumes to plan, I’d better get started.”

“I appreciate your help,” he said, following her to the door.

“Anytime,
friend
,” she said, “anytime.”

“S
O, HAVE YOU GOT ANY IDEA
what to dress up as?”

Kelsey glanced at Celia and then continued chopping vegetables. She’d invited the other woman over for dinner. Fred had been working so many hours that Celia hadn’t been around the brownstone too much lately. Kelsey missed her.

Plus, she knew Celia was very skilled at sewing.

Celia tossed Kelsey a freshly washed cucumber and started rinsing some lettuce. The two had decided on big salads and worked assembly-line fashion in Kelsey’s small kitchen.

“Not a clue,” Kelsey said, sighing. “You’re the one who can sew. What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Celia answered as she turned off the tap water. “Depends on what you’re after. Scary? Funny? Outrageous?”

“I suppose,” Kelsey responded, “that Lady Love ought to show up in something a little outrageous, probably a little sexy.”

“A little sexy?”

“Okay, okay, a lot sexy!”

Celia nodded. “We can do that. What about Mitch?”

“I have no idea,” Kelsey said. “He doesn’t want
anything too flamboyant, so I guess my Adam and Eve idea with suitably placed fig leaves is out.”

Kelsey loaded up two plates with salad and fresh vinaigrette, grated some Italian cheese and handed one plate to Celia. Pouring two glasses of Chablis, she offered one to her guest and sat down with her at the kitchen table.

Celia took a few bites of her salad. “I can picture Adam and Eve. Hmm, do they make fig leaves big enough?”

Kelsey feigned indignation. “Celia, I’m not that big!”

“I didn’t mean for you,” Celia replied, dangling her fork off the end of her fingers and giving Kelsey a sly look.

Kelsey caught her drift and laughed. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know about that.”

“But you’d like to,” Celia insisted.

“No comment,” Kelsey said, turning her attention to her dinner to avoid dwelling on the picture Celia’s words brought to mind.

They both looked up when they heard a loud banging coming from the front door of the brownstone. “Do you know if Fred was expecting someone?” Kelsey asked.

“No, but maybe he or Mitch forgot their keys.”

“Could be,” Kelsey said, dropping her napkin. As she quickly descended the wooden stairs to the foyer, the knock continued in an almost imperious repetition. Kelsey paused to look through the peephole.

“Oh, great.” She sighed aloud when she recognized the blonde who had been in Mitch’s apartment that night Kelsey had burst in. She hadn’t seen the woman around since, and had begun to hope Mitch wasn’t dating her after all. Kelsey contemplated going back upstairs and not answering, but her good manners won out and she opened the door.

“Well, thank you so much,” the woman said in a brisk
voice. “I’ve been knocking for five minutes, and it’s very chilly out here.”

She tried to push past Kelsey to enter the brownstone, but Kelsey blocked her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mitch,” the blonde said.

“He’s not here.”

“Well, when will he be back?” The woman was obviously annoyed at being kept standing on the doorstep.

“I have no idea. We don’t exactly keep track of each other’s comings and goings.”

The woman eyed her again, and Kelsey almost wished she’d bothered with a little more makeup and hadn’t pulled her hair into a ponytail while making dinner. This statuesque blonde reeked money, looking every bit as lovely as she had the last time she’d been over. Her knee-length coat was obviously cashmere, and she carried a Gucci bag. Her hair was perfectly in place, and her makeup impeccable.

“Give him this, please,” she said, shoving something toward Kelsey with one leather-glove-clad hand. “It’s his invitation to the Halloween ball. Tell him I am counting on him to come, Kelly.”

“It’s Kelsey.”

“Of course.” The woman offered her an insincere smile. “Kelsey, Mitch’s friend’s sister. He has, of course, told me all about how your family was so kind to him. And how he felt so obligated to rent you a room here to repay them.”

Obligated? Mitch felt obligated? Kelsey began to see red. Just then Mitch’s car swung up the driveway, and the blonde glanced over her shoulder and smiled in relief. They watched him park his car and start toward the house. Some imp of mischief made Kelsey say, “He’s here now, and you can offer the ticket, but I don’t think he needs it.”

“Oh?” the woman asked, raising her eyebrow imperiously. “Why do you say that?”

“Mitch has a date for the ball. He’s going with me. And I’ve already got tickets.”

“You’re not serious!”

“About what?” Mitch asked as he walked up the two steps to the front door of the brownstone.

Amanda turned to him and shrilly announced, “Your little ‘pseudo-sister’ here claims you’re attending the Halloween ball with her.”

“Of course, she’s serious.” He scowled at Amanda in annoyance. Sometimes the woman could be incredibly high-handed, as well as thick-skinned. In spite of what had happened the last time she’d come to his apartment, she still continued to call him every few days. He’d avoided complete rudeness, up to now.

“But you
always
go with me, Mitch! And Daddy…he was so looking forward to joining us.”

Always
could be translated as twice. Mitch had gone with Amanda once, last year, and as a guest of her father’s the year before.

“I’m looking forward to seeing him, too. But as I’ve said, I am going with Kelsey. Her station is sponsoring the event, and she needed an escort.”

Amanda’s face tightened as she tried to smile. Kelsey figured it took a great deal of effort to turn and say, “I’m sorry for doubting you, Kelsey. Of course Mitch would step in and play the gallant escort.”

“Oh, Mitch is nothing if not gallant,” Kelsey said.

“But, Mitch,” Amanda said, “after Kelsey’s finished her duties for her employer, you must join us. Daddy and I will still save you a place at our table.”

Amanda cast another glance at Kelsey. “And if Kelsey wishes to remain at the party after she’s finished working, she’s welcome to sit with us, too.”

“How kind,” Kelsey murmured, feeling like the unwelcome servant invited to a dinner party to make up for a no-show guest.

The woman did not seem to notice her sarcasm and continued. “However, I do insist that you let me plan your costume, Mitch. I thought we could go as Fred and Ginger again, since everyone loved our costumes last year.”

“I’m afraid not. Kelsey is already working on our costumes.”

“Oh, Mitch, don’t be silly,” Amanda replied, undeterred. “It won’t matter what costume you wear to play escort for a brief time for your little friend. Your duties shouldn’t take too long, then you can join me in your top hat and tails. You won’t be chained to Kelsey all night!”

Kelsey figured she ought to have her brain examined for taking the insults that had been flying her way for the past several minutes. “You know, I think I’ll leave you two to sort this out, all right? Celia’s waiting upstairs. Good night, it was lovely seeing you again.”

Not waiting for a reply, she stalked up the stairs, slamming her apartment door behind her.

“My goodness, I hope I didn’t offend her, Mitch.”

“How could you not have offended her?” Anger made his voice tight and hard. “You walked in here, into Kelsey’s home, and started treating her like an unwanted guest, or as if you have some claim to my time, when you know that’s absolutely untrue.”

“Well,” Amanda sputtered, unable to come up with anything else to say. Mitch knew it was pretty stupid to an
tagonize her. After all, she and her father could easily prevent his books from being required in any class at several colleges.

When he didn’t respond or apologize, Amanda said quietly, “I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry, Mitch. I was a little abrupt with her. I guess I still am proprietorial about you. Silly of me.”

“Maybe you’d better tell Kelsey that next time you see her.”

Amanda nodded, said goodbye and walked back to her car.

Mitch let himself into his apartment, wondering if he should go upstairs and straighten things out with Kelsey. She’d mentioned Celia was waiting, so he figured this wouldn’t be the best time.

The urge to seek her out had been with him ever since she’d left his place that afternoon. He was getting very used to that urge: it seemed to be constant. For about the twentieth time, Mitch wondered what kind of fool he was to take her to the party. And for about the twenty-fifth time, he told himself there was no way in hell he was going to back out.

“W
E WON’T BE CHAINED
together all night,” Kelsey muttered as she entered her apartment and caught Celia’s eye. “Mitch and I won’t be chained together at the ball, so of course he can feel free to dump poor little old obligation me and go waltz off with Miss Moneybags and her father!”

Celia looked at her as though she were crazy, and Kelsey briefly related the conversation with Mitch and his girlfriend.

“So she expects Mitch to ditch you and spend the rest of the evening with her?”

“Apparently so.”

“But, Kelsey, Mitch isn’t even dating her anymore. Fred told me they broke up before Mitch left town.”

Kelsey breathed a deep sigh of relief. She’d suspected as much, but it was good to hear her suspicion confirmed.

“Chained together, indeed,” she muttered.

Then an idea began to take shape in her mind. It was outrageous. He’d kill her. But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Celia, I think I may have come up with a costume idea after all.”

“Really? Fill me in.”

Laughing, Kelsey did exactly that. And when she finished explaining what she had in mind, Celia gasped, then laughed, too.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, armed with a pad of paper and a measuring tape, Kelsey went downstairs and found Mitch in the kitchen.

“How big are you?”

Mitch dropped the bowl he’d been about to put away, and gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

“I’m glad that was plastic,” she said, glancing toward the bowl on the floor. “And I said, how big are you? You know, sizes. I’ve got some costume ideas, but I really need your measurements.”

“Oh,” Mitch said. “Clothing sizes.”

“Uh-huh…what else would I have meant?”

“I have no clue, Kelsey.”

Kelsey grinned at his too-innocent tone, then started writing down his sizes as he rattled them off. She probably could have gone with her original guesses, because she had just about hit them dead-on, except for the chest size.
She had overestimated that by a bit, probably because she’d gotten so worked up remembering him in her apartment Saturday night wearing that towel. His chest had seemed to go on forever.

“So what’s your idea, anyway?” he asked.

She was not about to tell him specifically what she had in mind, but didn’t lie, either. “Just a good old Halloween pirate.”

“What are we talking here, an Errol Flynn type of pirate? Or more of a Captain Hook with long black curls and high buckle shoes?”

“Definitely Flynn.” She didn’t want him waving a hook around, especially considering what she’d planned for the rest of the costume.

“By the way, don’t shave Saturday, okay? The dark and swarthy look suits you.”

Mitch’s firm jaw was slightly stubbled; she could tell he hadn’t shaved yet. The dark shadow didn’t look unkempt, but instead made him look a little rough and exciting. It brought out the hollows under his high cheekbones and accentuated the tiny cleft in his chin. He seemed like the dark, dangerous Mitch she used to know.

“What are you going to wear?” Mitch asked as he moved to dry another dish.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said with a secretive smile. “Stand still, let me confirm the measurements you gave me…men have a habit of overestimating sizes.”

“Are you always so utterly outrageous?” Mitch couldn’t resist laughing at her suggestive words.

She didn’t reply as she pulled the measuring tape out and stretched it across his back and shoulders.

“Hurry up, would you?” Having Kelsey leaning against him was very disconcerting. Her hands ran over him lightly, almost teasing him, and her soft breasts pressed into his back. He was very conscious of the contact. When she finally finished, he breathed a deep sigh of relief and stepped away.

“Now, you’re not going to back out on me, are you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Kelsey. This whole evening is starting to sound interesting.”

K
ELSEY SPENT THE REST
of the day ordering things and sewing. Her plan was pulling together quite nicely. Jack, her boss, called late in the afternoon, anxious to find out if she’d decided how “Lady Love” would be dressed for her first public appearance. Though at first he didn’t seem to understand what she described, she said, “Just picture a romance novel cover, all right?” and he finally got it.

That evening at the station, she and Brian quickly threw together some highlights from their discussion Saturday night. When they’d nailed down a topic and listed some songs, Brian sat back and stared at her, a knowing look in his eyes.

“There’s talk in the coffee room that you’ve gotten some more mail from your lovesick knight, Sir He Who Cannot Write Poetry,” he said. “Why didn’t you share?”

She gave him a sour stare. “Because I knew you’d just make fun of the poor guy. This one was very sweet, too, and we all know how catty you are around genuine sweetness!”

“That’s because it doesn’t exist,” he sniped. “So, does this one compare your voice to the dulcet tones of his grandpappy’s harmonica?”

Kelsey pulled out the pale blue stationery. “Actually, it’s another poem, in which he claims ‘the only sounds bringing tears of joy he’d wipe, are my gravelly voice and a Scottish bagpipe.’”

After Brian let out a few shouts of laughter, he wiped the corners of his eyes. “Oh, man, I wonder if this guy’s a comedian…he must be doing it on purpose. No way could someone write such genuinely awful poetry!”

“It’s kind of sweet,” Kelsey insisted, trying to keep a straight face. “He’s writing me two or three times a week now, and he obviously puts a lot of effort into these letters.”