Something in the Wine (15 page)

Annie blushed and shrugged. “Guess I’m a total nerd, huh?”

She’s too cute.
“Hey, no shame in that. I liked
Star Trek
too, but I was more into
Babylon 5
.”

The tense set of Annie’s shoulders relaxed. “Really?”

“Sure.” Drew grinned. “A tough Russian woman and a beautiful blond telepath, what’s not to like? But didn’t anyone ever tell you that wearing a red uniform is bad karma? Whenever I watched an episode, one of the guys in red died before the first commercial break.”

“That was the original series, not
The Next Generation
.”

“Ah, right. So you’re what?” Drew counted the number of golden pips on the right side of Annie’s collar. “A commander?”

Annie straightened. “A captain.”

“Then I’ve got to say that you fill out that uniform better than good old Captain Picard.”

The tight uniform showed off Annie’s gentle curves and emphasized her slender waist and long legs.

Annie’s face took on the color of her uniform top. “You look very ... um ... dashing too.”

Grinning, Drew pretended to twirl her painted-on mustache. “Thank you.” She hooked her arm through Annie’s. “Come on. Let’s go.”

* * *

Annie settled into the passenger seat, nearly crushing Drew’s pirate hat beneath her. At the last moment, she paused and pulled it out from under her. With the hat on her lap, she gazed over at Drew. Now that Drew was distracted by starting the car, Annie could look at her without being observed.

High boots covered Drew’s legs up to the knees. The grip of an antique pistol stuck out of the crimson sash tied at her hips. A broad belt with a brass buckle was strapped diagonally over a billowy white shirt that accented Drew’s tan and showed off a hint of cleavage. Annie directed her gaze upward. A red bandana covered Drew’s hair. From her left ear, one large golden earring dangled almost to her shoulder. Captain Sparrow makeup emphasized her long eyelashes, and she had drawn a mass of black dots on her chin and upper lip with something like an eyeliner pencil to give herself a fake goatee.

At a red light, Drew glanced over and caught her looking.

Annie quickly thought of something to say. “No saber?”

Drew’s fake goatee moved as she smiled. “You think I’m going to need it to drive away a bunch of admirers if they want to get fresh with you?”

“What? No!”

Drew grinned. “It’s in the trunk with my eye patch. Wearing a saber or an eye patch while driving a car is a bit impractical.”

“Too bad no one invented a transporter yet,” Annie said. “Then we wouldn’t need cars anymore.”

“As long as no one puts me out of a job by inventing a replicator and fake wine.” Drew turned left at the next corner and glanced over at Annie for a moment. “How’s your finger?”

Annie wrapped her hand around the finger in question. “Fine. It was just a little nick—no pirate’s hook needed.” She had to admit that Drew’s concern felt good.

“Not that you wouldn’t look good in a pirate’s costume, but I like you better with all your limbs attached.”

“Yeah, me too.” Annie didn’t react to the comment about her looking good in a pirate’s costume. Drew was the ultimate flirt and probably complimented every woman she met without it meaning anything.

Drew stopped the car in front of a house at the edge of town. After they got out of the car, Drew opened the trunk, attached the saber to her sash, and put on the eye patch. With her one remaining eye, she winked at Annie. “Should we have a safe word?”

Annie stared at her.
Safe word?

“Don’t look at me like that.” Drew chuckled. “You could use it to signal me when you’ve had enough of the party and want to leave.”

“Oh. How about ‘Beam me up, Scotty’?”

Laughter exploded from Drew. “Deal.”

Side by side, they walked to the house, and Drew rested her hand on the small of Annie’s back for a moment. Even with Drew wearing higher boots, Annie was still taller. When she walked next to men, Annie always slouched a little, knowing most men were uncomfortable with taller woman. Drew didn’t seem to care, so Annie walked with her head held high.

A skull with eerily glowing eyes greeted them at the front door.

“My friend Lynn likes to go all out for her parties,” Drew said as she rang the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal a brown-haired woman wearing only lingerie and a set of bunny ears. “Hey, you made it!” Her ample breasts nearly spilled over her corset as she hugged Drew.

Annie watched with raised eyebrows.
That’s Drew’s friend?

Drew pulled back. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Can’t you see?” The woman pointed at her costume—or lack thereof—and shook her head to wiggle her bunny ears. “I’m a Playboy bunny.”

Two other women appeared behind the brunette with the bunny ears.

Annie’s eyes widened as she took in the amount of bare skin the first one displayed. The large woman was wrapped in nearly see-through gauze that left her belly bare. A giant fake diamond twinkled in her belly button. Were all of Drew’s friends so casual about showing off their bodies?

“What happened to you?” Drew asked, pointing at the woman’s costume.

“She lost a bet,” the woman’s smaller companion, who was dressed up as a harem’s guard, answered.

“Annie,” Drew laid a hand on Annie’s back again and guided her forward, “these crazy people are my friends—Lynn,” she pointed at the Playboy bunny, “Becky,” now she indicated the harem lady, “and her wife, Sam. Girls, this is Annie Prideaux.”

“Oh, I see!” Becky grinned. “You kidnapped yourself a busty wench to go with the pirate costume.” She thumped Drew on the back.

Annie eyed the door.
Um ... beam me up, Scotty?

“Nope.” Drew rubbed Annie’s back as if to calm her. “No kidnapping this particular wench and taking her to the captain’s stateroom. We’re just friends.”

“Whatever you say,” Becky said.

“No, really,” Annie said. “I’m straight.” Then she bit her tongue.
Why am I so defensive?
Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent toward people thinking she was gay as she had imagined when she had agreed to Drew’s revenge plan.

Lynn shrugged. “So was I before I met Drew.”

Annie stared first at Lynn and then at Drew. She couldn’t reconcile the wild woman Becky, Lynn, and Jake had known with the kind, considerate Drew she was getting to know.
So Lynn and Drew were together.

“Christ, Lynn,” Drew muttered. “Are you at least going to let us in, or are you going to completely humiliate me out here?”

“No. I can do that inside. Come on in.” Lynn and the other women stepped aside and let them enter.

Something brushed over Annie’s head, and when she glanced up, she saw a giant plastic spider hanging from the ceiling. The tinny groans of a glow-in-the-dark skeleton were nearly drowned out by the laughter of about two dozen people mingling in the large living room. The only light came from flickering jack-o’-lanterns and gothic candlesticks. Bats fluttered around in a lone lampshade in the corner.

A thin woman with a cowboy hat rushed over. “Do you have any napkins? Someone spilled beer all over the buffet table.”

Lynn sighed. “Excuse me for a minute.” After two steps, she turned, pointed at Drew, and said, “Don’t go anywhere. You owe me a dance.”

Drew raised her brows. “I do?”

“I’m the hostess, so I get to dance with whoever I want.” Lynn hurried away.

Annie and Drew exchanged a quick glance.

“Sorry,” Drew said. “Lynn can be a bit ...” She waved her hand as if trying to capture the right word.

“I thought you hadn’t earned a toaster oven.” Annie bit her lip. That wasn’t what she had meant to say. She had no reason to care about Drew’s kitchen appliances or her romantic past.

Sam and Becky laughed.

Was that a pink glow entering Drew’s cheeks? In the dim light, Annie wasn’t sure. She wanted to take back her words. When she had blurted out the toaster oven comment, she hadn’t meant to embarrass Drew.

“No, I—”

“Our friend wasn’t always very picky with her choice in sex partners,” Becky said.

Her wife slapped Becky’s bare belly. “Be nice.”

“Sorry,” Becky said. She wrapped one arm around Drew and glanced at Annie. “I’m just kidding.”

“I wish you were, but sadly, you’re right,” Drew muttered. She looked so embarrassed that Annie searched for something comforting to say.

She leaned over so that just Drew would hear her. “Hey, at least that should make it easier for Jake to believe that you’ve gotten involved with me.”

With a serious expression, Drew turned to face her. “Don’t put yourself down like that. If you and I got involved for real, it would have nothing to do with me not being picky.”

Now Annie was glad for the dim light. She rubbed her hot cheeks.
I’ve got to get this blushing thing under control, or I’ll die of a heat stroke around her. She’s just a natural flirt and says things like this at the drop of a hat.

But Drew’s serious expression conveyed something else.

Annie stared at her but didn’t find the right words to answer.

“Come on.” Drew lightly gripped her elbow. “Let’s get something to drink and a few snacks. See you later, girls.” She strode off, the saber dangling against her thigh as she weaved around party guests.

Dry ice created clouds of fog, and Annie walked faster, not wanting to be separated from Drew among all those strangers. When someone jostled her, nearly parting her from Drew, she wrapped her hand around Drew’s sash and held on.

Drew threw a quick glance over her shoulder and smiled.

In front of the buffet table, they stopped and stared at the food.

Mozzarella eyeballs with olive pupils stared back at them. Garnished carrots, breadsticks, and sausages with painted nails looked like severed fingers.

“That gives new meaning to the word ‘finger food,’” Drew said.

The blood-red liquid in the punch bowl caught Annie’s attention. “Um ... there’s a severed hand floating in the punch bowl.”

“That’s Lynn’s Zombie Punch.”

“Zombie Punch?”

“Yes. If you drink it, you’ll feel like a zombie tomorrow morning.”

Annie scrunched up her nose. “No, thanks. Been there, done that. But at least your wine was worth it.”

“I’ll see if I can get us something drinkable. Be right back.”

Before Annie could answer, Drew stepped into the dry-ice fog.

“Q’apla,” someone said behind her.

When Annie turned, a woman in full Klingon battle dress stood in front of her, a skull-shaped cup with the Zombie Punch in her hand.

“Didn’ shink I’d shee anosher Trekkie here,” the woman said through her fake Klingon teeth.

“Hello,” Annie said, politely trying not to stare at the amount of cleavage the breastplate displayed.

“I’m Linda, f’om the housh of Martinsh.”

“Captain Annie Prideaux.” Annie took Linda’s gloved hand in a traditional warrior grasp.

“Wanna share a plate of gagh?”

Annie stared at the gravestone-shaped plate with Jell-O worms Linda held out to her. Was she flirting, or was she just being friendly to a fellow
Star Trek
fan? “Uh, no, thank you. My friend will be back any second now with something for us to eat and drink.”

“Shuit yourshelf.” Tossing back her fake Klingon mane, Linda sauntered away.

“Jesus, her breasts with those pointy metal parts looked scary,” someone else said.

A woman wearing a colorful peasant skirt, a headscarf, and half a dozen amulets and charms grinned at Annie. Bracelets clinked as she reached out a hand, while the other held on to a crystal ball. “Hi, I’m Sue.”

Annie opened her mouth to introduce herself.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me.” Sue rubbed her crystal ball, then pressed two fingers against her temple and closed her eyes as if it helped her focus. “Your name is Annie.”

She eavesdropped on my conversation with the Klingon.
Annie nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Annie. Do you want me to read your palm?” Without waiting for a reply, Sue grasped Annie’s hand and traced the lifeline with her index finger, caressing more than merely following the lines.

Annie’s hand itched. She wanted to pull it away but was too polite to do so.

A fake blood-red fingernail trailed along the lines in Annie’s palm. “Oh, what do I see here?” She bent closer, and for a moment, Annie thought she would kiss her hand. But then Sue said, her voice a seductive purr, “You’ll meet a woman. A very attractive woman.”

Drew sidled up to Annie. She put down the two glasses she was carrying and wrapped one arm around Annie, then pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her cheek as if she had done it a thousand times before.