Talk of the Town (13 page)

She gathered herself together nicely when it was time to get back in the limo with Marcus. Marcus whisked them downtown and let them out in front of the art museum.

As they emerged from the car, Kelly found herself surrounded by handsome men of all ages in their black and white tuxes. The women were wildly adorned, with feathers in their exotic hair designs, masks, beads dripping from everything, and every dress she saw seemed to be black.

The more she gathered her wits, the more black and white she saw. They entered through a courtyard to the main building, where a sign read:
SEATTLE ART MUSEUM’S BLACK AND WHITE MASQUERADE BALL. BY INVITATION ONLY. PLEASE PRESENT YOUR CARDS TO THE STAFF
.

Sam pulled two engraved cards from his jacket pocket, and they entered the room. She was in a
black and white movie, and she was the living color. Her red dress was a major standout.

“A little detail you forgot to mention, Sam?”

Sam grinned sheepishly. “Just one. But you look so fabulous, I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Oh, well, I’ll be the flashing red light leading people to their destination.
Clean up on aisle ten
. Now clue me in on the event, here.”

“It’s a benefit to raise money for the museum. My parents are on the board of directors. We usually all go, but they’re in Europe this year. End of story. Would you like to dance? The orchestra is right this way.” He led her to a room full of black-and-white-attired guests, where the orchestra was playing a waltz. Sam swept her onto the dance floor boldly.

“Whoa, did you take ballroom dancing as a side course in law school? You hid your talents at the church social, Sam.”

“Just hang on there, honey, I’ll show you how to cut a rug.”

Wasn’t this scene in some old movie where she was supposed to wear virgin white, but wore red instead? Oh yes,
Jezebel.
My, she was wicked. She relaxed into his arms and let him take her spinning around the room.

He led her skillfully through the waltz. By the time they had circled the room once, all eyes
were on the dashing man and his
woman in red
. What else is new? Kelly thought.

Sam drew her close to him for the end of the dance and kissed her gently on the cheek. Her blood was racing. Her heart beat a completely new way than she had ever experienced before. As the next song began, Kelly fell head over heels into the experience of being held close to Sam and letting the music take them over.

The song ended, and they parted momentarily. Sam took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss.

On the stage, a woman in a fabulous sequined black sheath stepped up to the microphone. The band began to play an old forties song she had always loved, and the singer’s voice was mellow and sweet. Not as good as Cora, but good. “For Sentimental Reasons,” was the song she sang.

Kelly was swept away on a sea of emotion. She surrendered herself to Sam, letting him lead her gracefully across the dance floor. Their bodies molded together passionately. His hand pressed warmly on her back with a lover’s touch. She closed her eyes and swayed to the romantic song. When Sam kissed her, she practically swooned.

The band picked up with a more lively number, and the singer was joined by two other girls for an Andrews Sisters sound. Sam swung her
out into a perfect spin, and she found herself hoofing it up like a genuine forties babe. Who knew she had it in her?

They danced until her feet surrendered. She leaned on Sam as they found a table. The low candles glowed on the black tablecloths and tiny silver stars were scattered over the tabletop.

He motioned for a waiter and ordered a couple of Cokes at her request. Caffeine and sugar, that was what she needed. When it arrived, she ordered another and downed the first very un-gracefully.

“Don’t get between a woman and her cola!” Sam handed his glass to her and sat back to watch her. She winked at him and let a satisfied sigh escape her lips, then sipped his drink more slowly.

“Oh, oh! Prince Charming, look over there. I see another Cinderella in red! Yippee! Wow, she has a feather boa, too. I can relax now.”

“You seem pretty relaxed already. I love dancing with you, Kelly.”

“This is simply maaaarvelous, Sam, and all for art’s sake, you say?”

“Let’s go upstairs in a few minutes. They’re having a sale. It’s work by little-known local artists. The museum buys the paintings, then sells them for a fund-raiser. My folks always scout out new talent and try and support the artist’s work in the future.”

“Boy, I have done a lot of things, Sam, but this world is a new one on me.”

“It made me a very visual person, being raised to appreciate art.”

She watched him sit back in his chair and take in the whole picture of her with a look of
appreciation
on his face. So he was visual, huh?

Kelly gave him a quirky smile and reached out across the table. He met her touch and their fingers intertwined.

“I know it’s still early, but I have a deep desire to have you all to myself at some point this evening, so drink up, dear, and come with me.” His voice was dark and tempting across the table.

She felt her resolve to have a full four weeks of dates evaporate like morning mist in the Seattle sunshine. In this case, it was moonlight, and she heard the words to “Blue Moon” in the background.

She was tired of standing alone. All of her dreams were here in front of her. Sam, Paradise, and a life she had imagined a thousand times. Why not? she thought to herself. She drank the last sip of cola and rose up from the table.

“I’m all yours, Sam.” He got up and moved over to stand in front of her. He ran his hands softly down her bare arms and pulled her close to him. She looked up into his dark blue eyes.

“Those are the words I’ve been waiting for, Kelly.”

She put her arms around his waist and kissed him deeply. “You’re going to need that lipstick wiper again, Sam,” she whispered.

“Do your worst, darlin’, I’m ready.”

“So am I, Sam, so am I.”

Sam let Kelly pick out a very striking Impressionist landscape—purples, greens, and vivid rose shades danced all over the canvas.

The painting somehow reflected the inner secret dialogue that danced between them. Each brush of her hand, each movement, sent a wave of heat over him. As they purchased their find and had the docent take the address to send it, he could feel the desire between them just under the surface, just under control enough to get through these tasks.

He finished up the sale and whisked her downstairs to the coat checkroom. It was early in the evening, and the line was minimal. Sam called Marcus on his cell phone while they waited for her wrap. Marcus was two blocks over with the limo.

As soon as they settled in, Kelly slipped her black velvet sling-back shoes off and twisted herself around so she was in Sam’s arms.

Sam reached over and touched a button that sent a darkly tinted window sliding up between their compartment and Marcus. He saw Marcus wink in the rearview mirror before it sealed all the way. He was surrounded.

“Pretty smooth, Grayson. Is there a button for low music and another that makes this seat into a bed?”

Sam pushed one button and the music swelled up softly. He grinned. “Haven’t got the bed installed yet.”

“Sam, I know we promised to spend four whole weeks together before…and it’s only been one week…” Kelly was stumbling over her words. “I just want you to know I am usually a woman of strong conviction.”

“I’m crazy about you, Kelly.”

“You don’t have to say that to get me in bed, you know.”

“I know.”

“Oh, very funny.”

“Kelly, I have only good thoughts about your virtue and conviction, but these condoms have a shelf life, you know?” He kissed her neck, and she arched so he could get more of it. That made him nuts.

“Mmmmmm…and that is my last word on the subject,” she mumbled.

And it was. She leaned into his kisses for the
next twenty minutes as they returned to the air-field.

They made a smooth limo exit and airplane entry, and Captain Jack seem to know to make his appearance brief.

The lights of the cabin were suddenly dimmed off except for a golden strip of light along the floor runners.

They were off the ground quickly and off the ground with each other, floating above Seattle, lost in a long, burning embrace. Time was suspended as Sam slowly touched and stroked her body into a state of ecstasy in the strange and sweet darkness of the plane. The night stars were like a pathway leading them to the moment they would make love.

As the plane came in for a landing, they leaned back tenderly in each other’s arms.

“My place?”

“Can we teletransport?”

“Next year.”

“Take me anywhere.” She meant it, too. She would have gladly become a mile-high-club member about twenty minutes ago, but as Sam reminded her, he wanted hours with her, and the flight was only a short one. Or, as had become their favorite phrase: not here.

Somehow they managed to get off the plane,
climb into the Jag, and arrive at the Grayson Building faster than she imagined possible.

They parked on the street, and Sam took her through a side door, then to an elevator. He inserted a key, the doors opened, and they stepped in. He pressed P—for penthouse, she assumed, ’cause it sure wasn’t the parking level they stepped off into.

Two stained-glass Frank Lloyd Wright-style windows flanked the double entry doors. Knowing Sam, they were originals. Sam opened one side and invited her in with a sweeping gesture.

He reached a light switch and pulled up a dim, romantic light. His apartment was glorious. She walked into black and gold, with rich olive green accents. It was very open and spacious, and very sensuous. There was an Asian feeling to it.

Several sculptures reflected the soft light. Luminous jade carvings of two horses were lit by soft up-lights that glowed against the raw silk wall coverings. A painting that she swore was an original Edward Hopper hung over the black granite fireplace. It depicted a man in a very square office, looking out over the rooftops of an old city with low buildings.

“Is that what I think it is? I keep having to ask you that question.”

“It’s called
Office in a Small City.
Perfect for me, isn’t it? It was a gift from my parents. It’s actually
a copy, though. The original Hopper is in the Met.”

“Well, that’s a relief. For a minute I thought you might be really stinking rich.”

“Very funny.” He came over and put his arms around her from behind. “I can’t help what I was born into. I hope it didn’t scare you off tonight. It’s pretty rare that I’m forced to flaunt it.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t sleep in a coffin during the day, I think we’re all right.
Renounce your fortune and run away with me, Rodriguo. Your parents will never approve of our match
.” She put her hand to her brow melodramatically.

“Actually, they are extremely cool people and just want to see me happily m-m-m-m…”

“Married?” Kelly filled in the word Sam was stuttering over and it hit her like a splash of ice-cold water. Her body went stiff in his arms, and he felt it. He stepped back and grabbed her hand.

“I’m so sorry, it just slipped out.”

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s not you.”

It wasn’t him. It was
her
and being wanted for
murder
. She had promised herself to tell Sam the truth, and she’d failed. She’d let herself fall into a game of omission.

She looked around the room at the burnished bronze wool sofa with its elegant black and green hand-painted pillows, and wanted to sink into it until she disappeared.

If she told him, all of this, all the magic of this evening would vanish like a ghost. The ghost of her dead husband. She just couldn’t make love to him with this sick feeling overtaking her. She would be sealing all her lies…with a kiss.

“Sam, I have to go home.”

Sam brought her close to him and held her hands together between his own. His warmth and strength were powerful. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend it all away except for him and this moment.

“Don’t,” he whispered. His voice was deep with desire.

With great emotional effort, she pulled herself away, touched his cheek, turned, and ran out the door in her red velvet shame. She left her coat and clutch behind, bolted out the double doors, pushed the elevator button, which opened immediately, and got in.

When the doors closed behind her, she leaned on the wall and let the sobs that were stuck in her throat rise up and out. She heard herself wail a terrible, sad cry. The tears streamed down her face, and she had nothing to wipe them with. Damn, damn elevators.

Kelly stepped out of the building into a downpour. Those happy little clouds they’d flown through had darkened and rumbled up some lightning and thunder and a bucket dumping of
rain. Perfect. She had a ten-block walk to Myrtle’s house in fabulous shoes and a velvet dress.

She hiccuped through her tears and leaned against the Grayson Building like a stray cat. Damn dead Raymond. Damn him.

Sam poured himself two fingers of scotch and let it slide down his throat in one smooth shot. He heard the rain pouring down outside and worried about Kelly. But there was no use chasing after her. She was a runaway.

Kelly was going to have to find her way back home herself this time. She just had to find her own way to end her running streak.

He set the glass down hard. She might come back. Just in case she did, he went over to the entry and sent the elevator back down. He would be here when she decided to have a real relationship.

Sam sat in his sleek black leather club chair and contemplated the disastrous ending to a beautiful evening. He rubbed his hand across his eyes and forehead in a strained gesture. He always went for the difficult ones, didn’t he? What an optimist, always believing this one was going to be different.

Kelly
was
different. The difference was he was in love with this one.