Strange Bedpersons

by Jennifer Crusie

  “I know. I made it.”

  “So I won’t be able to take care of a little problem I have,” Nick went on, smiling at her benevolently. “And I thought that since you did so well on the dress problem—”

  “I get the afternoon off,” Christine said.

  “Done.” Nick handed her a bag. “Replace these. Spare no expense. Then burn them.”

  Christine pulled a bleach-stained green sweatshirt out of the bag. “This is Tess’s?”

  “Yes. But not for long. Get rid of it.”

  “This is a mistake,” Christine said.

  Nick blinked. “You’re disagreeing with me? You have an opinion?” He looked interested. “Christine, this isn’t like you. Thank you for the input.” His eyes dropped back down to his desk as he opened a folder. “Now, butt out.”

  Christine dropped the bag on the desk with a plop, and Nick looked up, startled.

  “I like you,” Christine said with no expression whatsoever. “You’re a good employer. You’re simple, you’re efficient, you’re professional, and you’re easy to manage.”

  “Simple?” Nick said, offended. “Simple, how?”

  “Uncomplicated,” Christine said. “Because of this I’m giving you some good advice, although it’s my policy not to interfere in your personal life.”

  “Good policy,” Nick said, but Christine kept on talking as if he wasn’t there.

  “Do not interfere with this woman’s wardrobe,” she said. “Clothes are important to women. She will resent it.”

  “Not Tess,” Nick said. “Tess is incapable of carrying a grudge. Her attention span isn’t that long. And she doesn’t give a damn about her clothes. Replace the sweats and then burn them.” He shoved the bag back over to her and turned to the work on his desk.

  Christine picked up the bag. “This is a bad move.”

  “They’re just sweats.” Nick looked up again, annoyed, but she had already gone, doing her usual silent fade. “And get yourself some tap shoes while you’re out,” he called after her. “You’re really giving me the creeps lately.”

  “Nicholas?”

  Park’s father appeared in the doorway. Tall and distinguished, with a patrician nose and a full head of gray hair, Kent Patterson looked like the perfect lawyer: wise, benevolent and just.

  It was unfortunate that in reality he was a mindless, society-obsessed twit, but Nick had learned to deal with it.

  “Kent!” Nick came around the desk to shake his hand. “I didn’t think I’d see you until lunch, sir.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel that, son,” Kent said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Norbert Welch called me. Wants to talk contracts. Speaks highly of you. Good job there, Nicholas.”

  Nick felt his knees grow weak. “We got the account?”

  “Not yet,” Kent said. “But I’ll be clinching that at lunch. Leave it to me.”

  Nick felt his knees come back. If Kent was in charge, they’d never see the account again. “Maybe I should join you, sir.”

  “Nonsense,” Kent said. “You leave this in the hands of the master.”

  Well, I’m trying to, Nick thought. But you won’t let me.

  “You’re free for dinner tomorrow, aren’t you?” Kent asked.

  “Of course,” Nick said automatically.

  “Well, that’s good, because Melisande and I want to meet your fiancée.”

  “My what?” Nick said, appalled.

  “Norbert told me all about her.” Kent feigned a punch at Nick’s shoulder. “You old dog. Kept her under wraps, haven’t you?”

  “Well, actually, sir—”

  “Tomorrow at The Levee. Eightish. Just Melisande and I and Park and whoever he’s dating at the moment—” Kent rolled his eyes derisively. “—and you and your... Bess, is it?”

  “Tess,” Nick said hollowly. “Me and my Tess. You bet.”

  WHILE NICK WAS DEALING with Park’s father, Tess was dealing with her landlord.

  “If there’s anything you want, you just holler from now on,” Ray Briggs told her. He stood on the front steps of the apartment building, his hands clasped behind his back over his ample rump as he swayed back and forth in his eagerness to please. His bald head gleamed through the six strands of hair he’d combed over it, and his normally mean little eyes had widened to the size of dimes in his efforts to look open and aboveboard.

  It was so out of character for him that Tess was almost speechless.

  “Well, actually I’m moving out, Ray,” Tess said finally. “My furniture—”

  “You give me the address. I’ll have it all delivered,” Ray said. “No problem.”

  “You’re kidding. Well, all right. Now, about the locks—”

  “First class all the way.” Ray gestured to the door. “Here in front, on all the apartments, back door, too, just like the doctor ordered.” Then he laughed asthmatically. “Or the lawyer, I guess, huh? Come on, check ‘em out.”

  “Lawyer?” Tess said, but she already knew what had happened. She followed Ray through the building, checking to make sure that he really had replaced the locks, listening to grateful thanks from the tenants who assumed her protest had made them safe. When they were finally back at the front door again, she gave Nick’s address to Ray and then went down the steps to catch the next bus.

  “Tess?” Ray called anxiously.

  She turned back. “Yes?”

  “You be sure to tell Mr. Jamieson now.”

  Tess closed her eyes. “Count on it.”

  NICK CAME IN THE DOOR a little after six, stripping off his tie. “We’re going out,” he told Tess as he headed for the stairs. “Get your black dress.”

  “Hey,” Tess said. “Wait a minute.”

  “Oh, right.” Nick turned back, grabbed her and kissed her, swiftly at first and then lingeringly. “I’m still getting the hang of this roommate thing.” He laughed in her ear as he held her close. “From now on, I swear I’ll say, ‘Hi, honey, I’m home.’”

  “Good,” Tess said, wrapping her arms around him more tightly. “This isn’t actually what I meant, but I like it, so let’s keep it.” She kissed his ear. “I think that makes my line, ‘How was your day, dear?’”

  “Annoying as hell,” Nick said, letting go of her and turning back to the stairs. “And we’ve got drinks at seven and a dinner date at—”

  Tess grabbed his arm. “Not so fast, buddy.” She pulled him over to the couch, pushed him down and then curled up beside him. “I talked to my landlord today,” she began, absentmindedly rubbing her hand along his neck, just for the pleasure of touching him.

  “God, that feels good,” Nick said. He let his head drop forward. “Don’t stop.”

  Tess began to knead her fingers into his neck muscles as she went on. “All the apartments have new locks. The tenants are very happy. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “Mmm.” Nick let his shoulder slide down the back of the couch as she rubbed. “Do that harder.”

  Tess rolled to her knees so she could reach him as he slumped away from her. “So you called my landlord and threatened him with something ugly and legal, didn’t you, Batman? Had to be a hero.”

  “Are you mad about that?” Nick mumbled. “Not that I care. Keep rubbing.”

  “No, I’m not mad. How was racquetball yesterday with Nordstrom?”

  Nick’s face was practically in a pillow by now. “Nordhausen. It was awful. Why?”

  “You got Gina that job.”

  “Look, Tess—” Nick began, trying to sit up.

  Tess pushed him back down. “You’re my hero, you know that?”

  “I am? Good. Keep rubbing.”

  “And that’s why I’m going to put on black crepe and act like a Stepford wife for you and your career tonight.” Tess gave his neck one final rub and slapped him on the back. Then she stood up and headed for the stairs. “Who are we impressing tonight?”

  “Drinks with Park and his date, dinner with Alan and Tricia Sigler,” Nick said
, his voice only partly muffled by the pillow. He moved slowly against the cushions and then slumped back down, evidently too comfortable to get up. “God, that was great. Let’s get married and you can rub my neck forever.”

  “The Siglers?” Tess said, coming slowly back to him. “This is for me, not for the law firm?”

  “Be nice to her tonight— your career is on the line,” Nick said, still facedown in the pillows. “Could you do my neck again, just for a minute?”

  “Possibly for the rest of your life,” Tess said, sinking down beside him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Tess said, and went back to work on his neck, feeling an odd little glow take hold of her as she moved her hands across his muscles. It wasn’t exactly sexual, but it was visceral, and she felt warmed by it and absentmindedly dropped a kiss on his neck in acknowledgment of it. This isn’t bad, she thought. This is good. This is comfortable.

  I like this.

  The glow lasted all the way out of the house and into the restaurant bar where they were to meet Park and Gina.

  Park was standing by the bar, as relaxed and handsome as a model in a liquor ad. But standing next to him was a brunette with blond streaks in her hair, and it took Tess a moment to realize that she was with Park, that she was Park’s date and that Gina was still back at the apartment, waiting to be stood up.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick asked her.

  “Say goodbye to Park,” Tess said, making a bee-line for the bar. “I’m going to kill him.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nick grabbed her arm and swung her around before she could get close enough to Park to attack him. “What the hell are you doing?” he whispered, dragging her to the other side of the bar as several people turned to stare.

  “He’s standing Gina up,” Tess spat. “She’s home expecting him to pick her up and he’s with this... this...”

  Nick closed his eyes. “Oh, hell.”

  “You’re not surprised,” Tess said, dumbfounded by the discovery. “I thought you’d be defending him, but you’re not surprised at all.”

  Nick pushed her gently onto a bar stool and trapped her against the bar by putting a hand on the rail on each side of her. “I was afraid of this. Look, Tess, Park can’t say no to anyone. He’s a nice guy without much backbone. The one thing he is absolutely rock solid on is not defying his father. And his father will never buy Gina as any part of Park’s life. So Park will not be seeing Gina. I’m sorry, it’s lousy. I think Gina is a great kid, but there it is.”

  Tess sat rigid with fury. “I still want to kill him. He’s going to hurt her. I don’t care about his damn backbone. I still want to kill him.”

  “Well, you can’t,” Nick said. “You’re in a public place. Control yourself. People are watching.” He met her eyes and relented. “He didn’t call her, did he?” he asked gently. “She called him. I’m not saying that makes it right, but Gina got the job and called him and said let’s celebrate and he said sure.”

  “Oh, damn it.” Tess blinked back tears. “I knew she shouldn’t have called him. She’s just so crazy about him she’s transparent with it. She just couldn’t wait.” She pushed Nick away gently and stood up. “All right, I won’t kill him in public. I’ll call Gina tomorrow and see what I can do. Maybe if I introduce her to one of the guys from the Foundation...”

  “Tess, you can’t fix everything for everybody,” Nick said, but his voice was sympathetic as he put his arm around her. “And this is between Park and Gina. It’s none of your —our— business. Come on, we’ll make this short so you don’t have to look at him for very long.”

  “I want him dead,” Tess said.

  “I know,” Nick said. “Try not to act on that.”

  The high point of drinks with Park and Corinne the brunette came for Tess when Corinne mentioned the amusing little gallery they’d had coffee in the night before. The night Park had told Gina they’d go out to celebrate her new job. Going out two nights in a row, Gina had marveled. Poor Gina. Stood up two nights in a row. All the lousy things Tess had ever said about Park came back to haunt her because they weren’t lousy enough.

  She glared at Park, who looked at her with equal parts of fear and confusion and immediately suggested to Corinne that they’d better be going.

  “I want him dead,” Tess repeated to Nick when they were alone, and Nick said, “I know. I know.”

  Dinner with the Siglers was only a slight improvement, although Tess was so despondent over Gina that she was actually polite and non-confrontational.

  “You behaved very well tonight,” Nick said to her when they were on their way home. “The Siglers were impressed. I think Tricia is ready to forgive you for the roll fight.” When Tess didn’t answer, he glanced over at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Gina,” Tess said. “She’s probably sobbing into her pillow right now.”

  “Do you want to drop by?” Nick said. “I’ll wait if you need to be with her.”

  “No,” Tess said. “Gina doesn’t like crying in front of people. I’ll wait until tomorrow when she’s cried out, and then I’ll do something.” God knows what, she thought and slumped back into the leather of Nick’s car seat while he drove her home in quiet, secure luxury.

  THE NEXT DAY, Tess bought a five-pound box of hand-dipped chocolates and went to see Gina at work. She asked for Gina at the receptionist’s desk, a walnut edifice that went well with the grimy marble floors and wainscoted walls and the wooden receptionist, who looked upholstered in her tapestry suit.

  “Would this be theater-related?” the woman asked, staring suspiciously at Tess through horn-rimmed glasses. Tess was obviously not the sort of clientele she was looking for.

  “It definitely has dramatic potential,” Tess replied, and the receptionist waved her to a door down the hall, craning her neck to watch her go.

  At Gina’s door, Tess took a deep breath and then went in, smiling, determined to raise Gina from the pit of despair.

  “Tess!” Gina beamed and leapt to her feet and came tripping out to greet Tess, throwing her arms around her and hugging tight. “This is my office! Isn’t it great? Isn’t life wonderful?”

  “Absolutely,” Tess said, refiguring the pit-of-despair part of her plan.

  “Candy?” Gina said, spotting the huge box.

  “Uh, it’s an office-warming gift.”

  “Just like Park,” Gina said happily. “He sent flowers. Look!”

  Park had indeed sent flowers. A dozen red roses bloomed on the desk, a dozen pink roses glowed on the filing cabinet, a dozen white roses and a dozen yellow roses crowded the worktable, and a dozen peach roses graced the bookcase, each in its own crystal vase.

  “He said he didn’t know my favorite color, so he sent them all. He said I could just throw out the ones I didn’t like,” Gina said, surveying her luxurious garden with pleasure. “I told him I loved everything he gave me.”

  “Oh,” Tess said, sinking into a chair.

  “We had dinner at this little Greek place the night before last, to celebrate,” Gina babbled on. “And he held my hand. Can you imagine? It was so romantic.”

  “The night before last?” Tess asked in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Gina said. “It was late because he had to work late, but that just meant we were the only people there. It was so private and so romantic—”

  “Late,” Tess said. “How late?”

  “He picked me up at ten-thirty,” Gina said. “And then last night, he didn’t get to my place until eleven, and he wanted to go out, but I talked him into staying in.” Gina got a dreamily lascivious look in her eye.

  “Last night?” Tess said, now really confused. Then the look in Gina’s eye hit her. “Oh, no, you didn’t?”

  “It was wonderful,” Gina said, dropping into her chair. “He’s an absolute gentleman, even in bed.”

  “Great,” Tess said, but she thought, Great, he cheats on her and he’s boring in bed. I am going to kill him.
>
  “He is so sweet to me, Tess,” Gina said. “And he’s so much fun. And I feel so good around him.”

  “Great,” Tess said. The correct thing to do was probably tell Gina about Corinne, but she couldn’t do it. Gina was too happy. She was just going to have to kill Park slowly, using her bare hands, and then Gina could mourn her loss without being humiliated by betrayal. “Great,” Tess said again.

  The receptionist poked her head in the door, radiating superior disapproval. “You’ve left your intercom off again, Miss DaCosta.”

  Much to Tess’s surprise, Gina didn’t cringe. She just leaned over and flipped a switch on the intercom. “There you go, Pamela,” she said.

  Pamela sniffed. “Call on three.”

  “Who is it?” Gina asked.

  “I don’t know,” Pamela said, staring insolently at Gina.

  Gina stared her down.

  Pamela sniffed again and said, “I’ll ask,” and then slammed the door shut.

  “Hello,” Tess said, amazed. “What was that? Gina DaCosta the Terminator?”

  “Park taught me that,” Gina said, grinning. “He met her yesterday when he picked me up for lunch, and he told me she was going to make my life hell unless I handled her. Then he spent the lunch coaching me on handling her. You wouldn’t believe what a great impression he does of her.”

  “Lunch, too,” Tess said.

  “I told you. He’s wonderful.”

  Pamela stuck her head back in the door. “It’s Mr. Patterson,” she hissed, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You’re keeping Mr. Patterson waiting.”

  “Thank you, Pamela,” Gina said. “But next time, use the intercom.”

  “Oh,” Pamela said. “Right.” She backed out the door, closing it quietly this time.

  “You are not a nice person,” Tess told Gina. “Keep up the good work.”

  But Gina was already on the phone, beaming as she listened to Park.

  “I can’t stand this,” Tess muttered. She waved to Gina as she got up to leave, stopping only to liberate two dark-chocolate turtles from the box of candy as she went.

  She left the rest of the five pounds of chocolate for Gina. She was going to need it.