Just for the Weekend

by Susanne Matthews

  “Back again?” She forced a fake smile on her face for the blue-skinned Andorian who’d been plaguing her the last hour. His battery-operated antennae wiggled more slowly now than they had earlier. “I can’t imagine I have anything left to give you.” His hand shot out, but she quickly stepped back out of reach.

  “I can think of a couple of things I wouldn’t mind holding.” He smiled lecherously at her, showing a mouthful of poorly maintained teeth that weren’t part of the costume. “What can I say? You’ve entranced me. How about you and I get together later tonight? I’ve got a room upstairs and a bed just waiting to be broken in.”

  You can break it in alone, you slime ball.

  “Sorry, that’s a tempting offer, I’m sure, but I’m busy later.”

  “Thought so; I saw you with the Cardassian earlier. What about tomorrow night? The convention lasts three days.”

  “Sorry, busy all weekend.”

  “Sure you are.” He winked. “If you change your mind, I’m in room nineteen eleven. We’ll have a party—it’s come as you are.” He leaned over. “I’d like to lick every inch of that green paint off you. You can return the favor.” He blew in her ear and she shuddered, the stench of his beer and stale cigarette breath making her want to barf. What a loser.

  “If the soap doesn’t work, I’ll keep it in mind.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he took the bookmark she’d been holding, but almost gagged when he turned her hand over and licked her palm.

  Gross! She rubbed her hand on the tablecloth.

  She replenished the pile of books next to Mitch, added more swag to the table, and jumped when a man dressed as a vampiric, hive-dwelling Wraith from Atlantis leaned across the table. He’d been standing over to the left of the booth watching her, and she’d tried to ignore him as best she could.

  “Hey gorgeous, I’ve been watching you turn down the guys all night. If you like to party with the ladies, I can arrange a ménage à trois. I’m all for new experiences. What’s your name?”

  “Leaveme.”

  “Leaveme? Is that an Orion name?”

  “No, it’s one hundred percent Terran as in ‘leave me alone.’”

  He laughed loudly, drawing the attention of several people nearby. “I like my women feisty. I’d love to suck the life force out of you.” He raised his mini-suction-cup-covered hand and ran it along her bare arm.

  She shuddered at the uncomfortable feeling of hard plastic against her smooth skin and pulled away. He stuck out his tongue—it had to be as long as Mick Jagger’s. She rolled her eyes. Really?

  “Yeah, well, it isn’t going to happen. I like my life force right where it is, thanks. You’ll have to find someone else to play with.” She shoved a bookmark in his hand.

  “Relax. I’m just looking for a good time same as you. That’s why we come to these things, right? There’s nothing I’d like better than to look down at you with your mouth on my…”

  “Stop right there while I bleach my eyeballs to get rid of that image. It isn’t going to happen; not now, not ever.”

  She turned her back on him and focused her attention on the remaining books. She was spitting mad. How dare he make those assumptions and suggestions? She straightened the bra that had a tendency to slip and was glad to see her nemesis had gone. At least he’d taken the hint. That guy had left a bad taste in her mouth.

  “I can see you’re having fun.” Mitch looked back over her shoulder at her, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Go ahead and laugh. You aren’t the one half-naked, fighting off guys who give pigs a bad name. Hell, I’m not even sure exactly what that last guy had in mind, but I’m definitely not into a threesome.” She placed a pile of books on the table. “These are the last of the two hundred you were to sign and give away. I’ll be back. I need to use the ladies room.”

  Mitch nodded. “Okay. When these are gone, we’ll get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  • • •

  Cleo left the relative security of the booth, intensely aware of the eyes tracking her progress as she crossed the exhibit hall and headed to the concourse. She knew her Cardassian’s gaze was among those she felt, but other leers made her cringe and want to wrap herself in the nearest tablecloth. Just because her costume was revealing didn’t give those men the right to judge her and make some of the assumptions they obviously had.

  As soon as she could get away from the convention, she’d go back to her room and get dressed. Who says clothes don’t make the woman? She’d moved freely through the hotel yesterday and had never felt as vulnerable as she did tonight. Even when she’d been by the pool in her new bikini, she’d felt more in control than she did now. This costume was a pain. Her feet were cold and no doubt filthy, the paint itchy, and to make matters worse, the damn outfit seemed to bring out the worst in men. While she’d been warm enough in the booth, she was freezing out on the concourse.

  She squared her shoulders, swallowed her annoyance, and followed the signs pointing to her destination. She felt uncomfortable in the isolated, narrow hallway. When she reached the washroom and entered it, she breathed a sigh of relief and closed herself into a stall.

  Afterward she tried to rearrange herself, stuffing her boobs back into the skimpy top and praying they’d stay there since they had an annoying habit of trying to come out each time she bent over. She stared at herself in the mirror. If someone knew her, she supposed they might recognize her, but the shimmering green makeup did make her look otherworldly. Although she’d seen dozens of girls in costumes similar to her own, none of them seemed to attract the attention she did.

  It has to be the shimmer Mitch has sprayed on me; that’s really the only difference.

  She bent over, shook out her hair, and ran her fingers through the curls, trying to tame them into place. She reapplied her lipstick and stopped halfway through, remembering the touch of a stranger’s lips on hers. Men didn’t walk up to her and kiss her like that. That only happened in the movies.

  She shook her head and finished fixing her lipstick. She capped the tube and returned it to its hiding place. She took a deep breath. Time to get back out there before Mitch wondered if she’d bailed on her. The idea of sneaking up to the room and hiding there had an appeal of its own. Coward. She stuck her tongue out at her reflection and walked toward the exit.

  She opened the door and moved quickly along the short hallway. She hadn’t realized how dark it was. She’d almost reached the concourse when a tall man dressed as a Romulan stepped in front of her. He had to outweigh her by a hundred pounds and stood a good five inches taller than she did. He moved closer to her—too close, invading her personal space—and the discomfort and anxiety she’d felt earlier filled her once more. Cleo stared into the man’s eyes. Show no fear. She worked on controlling her breathing.

  “Excuse me.” She tried to move around him. The men’s room is down here, too. Maybe he just needs to go.

  “Not so fast, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting to get you alone all night. I was going to talk to you earlier, but that Cardassian moved in on you before I could. You seem to have quite the fan club. Listen, how about you and me blow this place and go have a little one-on-one fun?”

  She smiled and hoped he couldn’t see the panic creeping up on her. She could smell the booze on him. He’s just a bully, a big drunken bully. If you don’t show fear, he’ll back down. The words she’d repeated to her students echoed in her mind. She looked around. There were people nearby; if she screamed, someone would come to help her, right? Damn, this place needs security guards or something to keep these jerks in line. She swallowed and bit her lower lip nervously. Humor him. Treat him like you would a difficult student.

  “That’s a tempting offer, but I have to get back. Please let me by. My friends are waiting for me.” No harm in letting him think she had more than one.

  He laughed. “Friend, singular, and she’s busy with her books right now. I saw the way you reacted to the Cardassian’s kiss. You won’t convinc
e me you play for the other team. I watched you playing gopher for the author. I’ll settle for a tonsil-licking like you gave that guy earlier.”

  He moved even closer to her, and she backed away until she couldn’t move any farther. He put his arms against the wall on either side of her face and leaned into her.

  Cleo, trapped between the wall and this stranger swallowed her terror, frowned, and assumed her strictest teacher glare, the one she reserved for older kids fighting in the schoolyard.

  “I asked you to let me by. Don’t make me call for help.”

  She hated the way her voice had started to tremble on the last word. Her heart pounded so loudly he could probably hear it.

  “Like anyone would hear you with all this noise.” He reached out a hand, grabbed her by the neck, and pulled her close. “Okay, we’ll do it your way. I don’t mind rough play. Come on. Let me show you how much fun we could have. I’ve got money if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “How dare you! Get your filthy hands off me!”

  Furious, Cleo struggled, but the man was strong. Terror filled her. She kicked uselessly at his legs, but her bare feet couldn’t inflict any pain. He was too close for her to knee him in the groin. He bowed his head, filling her nostrils with the scent of his sour breath.

  “Hold still, bitch.” He growled, angry she was trying to fight him.

  “I may not be the most observant man on Earth, but even I can tell the lady’s not interested. Let her go.”

  Chapter Three

  The man’s voice was calm and cold, each word clearly enunciated, and the fury in it was palpable.

  Cleo’s eyes flew open as the giant holding her relaxed his grip and turned around. The minute he did, she tried to pull away and see who’d come to her rescue. Her Cardassian stood within reach of the man and placed his hand on the Romulan’s shoulder. There was no mistaking his rage.

  The Romulan immediately released her, and Cleo took a few steps away from both men. Her captor looked from the Cardassian to her and back again, and then smiled, probably sober enough to realize he wouldn’t win a fight with the man who stared at him. Her hero was at least two inches taller than he was, and where the Romulan’s weight was from fat, the Cardassian’s body bespoke muscle and strength.

  “So that’s the way it is.” The Romulan laughed. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “Are you all right?”

  Deep brown eyes filled with concern looked into hers.

  Cleo nodded, unable to speak, her throat clogged with conflicting emotions. It was the second time tonight he’d come to her rescue. The first time, when she’d been separated from Mitch on arrival, she hadn’t needed rescuing; after all, she’d only been across the room. He’d claimed a kiss as his reward. This time, she’d clearly needed his help. Still, she hated women who played the damsel in distress card even if it was warranted. She’d gladly give him another kiss now. She wouldn’t mind being in his arms regardless of the mistaken message a jerk like this guy might read in it. Sometime a girl just needed a hug.

  The Cardassian looked at her would-be assailant. “I suggest you go to your room and sleep it off.”

  “Relax, buddy, I just wanted some of what the lady’s been offering all night.”

  “I must be blind. I didn’t see the lady offering you anything. What I do see is a woman in a costume, like any other costume tonight—yours and mine included—doing a job and trying to have a good time, which you’ve ruined.” The hostility in his words was unmistakable.

  “Hey, relax. I didn’t see a do not touch sign anywhere.”

  “I take it you see it now?” His voice guaranteed violence if he didn’t get the right answer.

  “I do, I most certainly do. My apologies.”

  “Not to me, asshole. To her. If she wants to press charges for assault, I’ll back her up all the way, as will any number of people here who saw you maul her.”

  His words drew Cleo’s attention to the crowd that had gathered around them. Mortified, she looked from one man to the other. If looks could kill, her Cardassian’s were doing just that.

  The Romulan blanched and looked at Cleo. “Sorry.” He quickly turned on his heel and pushed his way through the crowd.

  Shaken by what could have happened, horrified by the throng gathered at the end of the short hallway, Cleo straightened her spine. Put on your big-girl panties. It’s over. None of this was your fault.

  “I need to get back to work,” she murmured, moving swiftly through the host of onlookers, keeping her head down, her eyes averted, hoping no one had captured that encounter on a cell phone intent on posting it, and hurrying back into the convention hall, not daring to look at the Cardassian.

  She was shaking. Her heart pounded and she felt lightheaded. The last thing she wanted to do was ralph on her hero’s shoes. Without the green paint, she’d probably be as white as a ghost. He was right behind her, his presence opening a passageway for her through the crowd. Thank God no one in this room seemed aware of what had happened. Why was it some guys couldn’t take no for an answer? She turned to thank her rescuer, but he’d already moved away toward the bar.

  Cleo saw Mitch look up at her arrival, and her friend quickly jumped up and put her arms around her.

  “What happened? And don’t you dare say nothing. It’s written all over your face as plain as day.” The concern in her voice reminded her once more why Mitch was her best friend: she understood her.

  “I had a little problem with an overeager drunk. I’ll tell you about it later. I just need a little time right now.”

  Mitch nodded, hugged her, and returned to the table. Cleo retreated to the space half hidden by the curtain separating the signing table from the boxes of supplies and tried to settle her overwrought nerves. She looked over at the bar where her rescuer said something to his friend and ordered another drink.

  • • •

  “Where did you disappear to? You missed Liz, by the way. Not sure she recognized me. She looks pretty hot in that little Bajoran outfit. She was with some guy dressed as Q. I thought you might have ditched me for the slave girl, but I see she’s back, and you look ready to chew nails. Things not turn out your way?” Charlie handed him a glass of water. “I can almost see the steam coming out of your ears. Did she turn you down?”

  Sam ignored the comment, emptied the glass, and motioned for the bartender to approach.

  “Another round for us and for the Mitch Hutchins’ booth over there.” Sam handed the bartender a twenty-dollar bill. Thank God he’d finally gotten rid of all the small bills Charlie had given him. The next time he won a bet on a baseball game, he’d specify large bills only. Two hundred bucks in fives and ones might be funny, but it was a pain to carry around.

  “So, not mad at her. Okay. Are you going to tell me what set you off, or do I use the Force to figure it out?”

  Sam turned and glared at him, his fury still barely held in check.

  Charlie put his hands up as if to fend off a blow. “Whoa. Don’t look at me that way. I’m not the one who threw a monkey wrench in your plans.”

  “No one ruined my plans. Some drunken lout tried to hit on her a little too forcefully when she came out of the washroom. They really need to improve the lighting down that hallway. Wouldn’t hurt to have a few security guys there either. I’ll mention it to Liz. I was sorely tempted to knock the bastard’s teeth down his throat. I resisted the urge; instead, I suggested it was time for him to leave. A bunch of people were standing around watching the show—not doing a damn thing to help her, and it was obvious she wasn’t enjoying the attention. I think I’m angrier with them than I am with him, and I’m pretty damned pissed at him. Why is it you put a costume on a perfectly decent man, and he morphs into Attila the Hun or worse?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ve been watching some of the less-than-stellar individuals in here hit on some of the women. I thought Liz said there was a sexual harassment policy in place tonight. I don’t think a lot of
the partygoers—you included, by the way—read it.”

  Sam bristled. “What do you mean, me included?”

  “Well, look at the way you planted one on her earlier tonight. You don’t think that might have given some of those yahoos ideas?”

  Sam looked down into his drink. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized exactly what he’d done. He’d put her on display, acting on his baser sexual urges. He’d treated her no differently than that jerk had, taking what he wanted, and damn the consequences. If he expected others to act decently, then he’d better start by setting the right example. He’d have to find a way to apologize. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was to be tarred with the same brush as that Romulan.

  • • •

  Cleo watched as one of the servers approached their booth with a glass of wine and another of Romulan ale.

  “Hi. Nice costume. It’s the best one of those I’ve seen. I wish I could pull off that look. This is from the Cardassian soldier at the bar.” She set the beer next to Mitch and handed Cleo the wine.