Aaron gestured at the picture James still held. “It was at a family wedding, so we’ll call her an old childhood friend. That will explain it away and no one will give it a second thought,” he nodded firmly. “She’s not your type, anyway. Who is she to you?”
James frowned and slumped back down in the chair, evading the repeated question. He picked up the folder and peered through it, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “What’s my type, Aaron?” he murmured.
“Your type will be crawling all over you at the after-party tonight, and you can have your pick to play doctor with. Hell, they’re cheap. Take two.” He leered.
James’s jaw set in a firm line and he rose to go stand by the door. “You can leave now,” he said quietly, his head lowered.
Aaron strode from the room when James opened the door. “I’ll see you later then,” he said from the hallway.
James didn’t answer. He slammed the door then fell back on the bed with his cell phone and replied with a text.
you are welcome
He smiled as he hit send then closed his eyes.
* * * *
Beth’s week got off to a normal start and just as she suspected, she didn’t hear from James at all after the “you are welcome” text. At least she saw it coming and didn’t get her hopes up. Yay me. She didn’t feel all yay me, though, as she plopped down on her couch Thursday morning to eat breakfast. When the new cereal she had just bought failed to yield the promised prize inside–an honest-to-goodness secret agent decoder ring–she seriously considered going back to bed and starting over. Instead, she reached for her tarot cards and pulled one for the day.
Page of Swords, written messages, she mused. Putting it out of her mind she set about making a grocery list, then left for the store. When she returned, it took two trips to get it all upstairs. Good for the glutes, she told herself doggedly, lugging the heavy bags up the wooden stairs. Once she had gotten everything put away, she smacked her forehead in disgust. Why can’t I ever remember to check the freakin’ mail? Grabbing her keys, she jogged back downstairs.
Returning within minutes, she tossed the stack of envelopes and sales flyers in the catchall basket on the kitchen counter on her way to shower for work. Page of Swords - maybe I should look. She padded barefoot to the kitchen and sat down on a barstool to go through the mail in the off chance there was something important in the bundle.
“Electric bill, junk, junk, credit card bill–eew, do not want–cable bill, junk, junk…”
Greetings from Atlanta! the picture postcard announced. Turning it over, Beth’s pitter pattering heart came to a sliding halt.
Thinking of you,
J.
She stared at it in disbelief. “He was serious,” she said, hugging herself in sheer delight. Clutching the card to her chest, she closed her eyes to see if she could derive any emotion from it and decided he was happy when he wrote it. At least I hope he was, she thought, remembering his peculiar sadness.
Taking it into the bathroom with her, she propped it up on the vanity so she could look at it while she took her shower. When she left for work, she put it in her purse, but told herself she was just being silly about the whole thing and decided she would only look again at it if she absolutely had to. Nothing was going to come of it. She knew that, but still…he was thinking of her. And for right now, that was enough.
7
On Friday, the postcard that arrived was from Charlotte, NC. The one on Saturday was from Raleigh, NC. There was no mail on Sunday, damn the postal system, but on Monday a small package arrived from Nashville containing an exquisite silk scarf in rich hues of crimson, pewter and black. There was a note attached.
I heard gypsies like scarves, couldn’t resist this one after I pictured it in your beautiful hair.
J.
Beth nearly dissolved into a formless puddle of happy right then and there. When she got ready for work later, she piled her curls atop her head, allowing some stray tendrils to hang down and tied the scarf around it. Before she could change her mind, she snapped a picture of herself with her cell phone and sent it to him. Right behind that, she sent a text.
Thank you–does it look like you thought it would?
His response was immediate.
better
She broke into a celebratory cabbage patch dance, but after a few giddy moments common sense reared its ugly head. “Don’t get yourself all excited. It’s still only temporary,” she reminded herself.
Later that evening at the Castle, Beth had just finished up a reading for a pair of giggling teen-aged girls. Her skirt pocket vibrated, and after a quick glance around she pulled out her cell to read the text James had just sent.
knock knock
She stared at it, baffled by the odd message. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she said slowly.
who’s there?
juan
She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
juan who?
It’s just me. Juan to hear another one?
That time she couldn’t prevent the laugh from escaping, earning her an odd look from the customers at the next table over. Funny guy. No show tonight?
She gasped aloud at his response.
Backstage now– drum solo :-D
Merciful heavens, he was texting her in the middle of a concert! The little voice in the back of her head chimed in and said Remember, don’t get your hopes up.
“Oh, mind yer own business,” she snapped and with a big smile waved the next guests in.
About an hour later, she got another text from James.
are you at work?
yes
call me when you get off? any time is ok
From that point forward, time ceased to move. The more Beth tried not to watch the clock, the more conscious she was of it. The evening seemed fifteen hours long, but in reality it was only another two hours before the park closed at midnight. Gathering her skirts up as she ran, she couldn’t get to her car fast enough and barely managed to obey the traffic laws in her rush to get home.
She flew up the stairs and quickly changed into her sweats before she picked up the phone to call. James answered on the second ring. “Hello, beautiful.”
Her cheeks began to warm. “No, sorry to disappoint you. This is Beth.”
He chuckled at that. “I was right the first time. Are you busy?”
“Not at all,” she said, settling down on the couch. “Where are you?” She could hear faint traffic noise in the background.
“I am in…” he paused for a moment, “…Louisville, Kentucky, sitting out on the balcony in my room. Thanks for calling. I was hoping you would.”
She smiled. “Of course I would. How are you?” He sounded so far away. She reached over and pulled her tarot deck out of the old wooden chest. She shuffled it quietly while he spoke, then spread all of the cards out face down and pulled one from the center. Ace of Cups, beginning of Love…She glared down at the cards before stuffing them all back in their box.
“I’m well, thanks,” he said, “but there’s something I want to ask you. I wanted to find out if you were busy this coming Sunday night. I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“That sounds like fun. How long will you be here for?”
There was a long pause before he spoke. “Not long. And if you don’t mind, please don’t tell anyone I’m coming.”
An odd request. “I won’t tell. Cross my heart,” she promised. “Thank you for the scarf and the postcards. That’s very nice of you.”
He snickered. “It’s not nice at all, darlin’. I have selfish motives, you understand. See,” his voice dropped conspiratorially, “there’s this really beautiful girl I’d like to see more of. Now she’s not having any of it, so I’m having to inundate her with reminders of me so she’ll come to realize any resistance is completely futile.”
Beth giggled. “And what happens if that doesn’t work?”
“Then I’ll have to resort to voodoo, I reckon. We’
ll be stopping in New Orleans soon. Maybe I can find somebody there willing to help a fella with a problem. Cutting my ear off and mailing it to her is right out, though. I gotta draw the line somewhere, you know. A man’s got his pride to consider.”
She couldn’t stop it. She doubled over with laughter. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said once she could catch her breath. He was laughing too, and they continued to talk. An hour passed, then two, and at five minutes after three, Beth stifled a yawn.
“Listen to me blathering on and keeping you up. I’m sorry. It’s so nice talking to you, though,” he said apologetically. “I’ll have to let you know what time Sunday.”
“That would be great,” she assured him. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Not nearly as much as I,” he said softly. “Good night, sweet Beth.” After she said goodnight, the line went dead, and within minutes they were both soundly asleep, nine hundred miles apart.
The postcards kept coming. On Saturday morning, the text she had been watching for finally arrived.
5:30 pm okay for Sunday? I’ll pick you up
She called him back immediately, but he didn’t answer. The phone rang twice then James’s voice came on, speaking in a thick brogue. “Can’t talk now, leave a message. Speak slow, use small words and for the love of Jaysus leave a feckin’ number if yer expecting a call back.”
The first ten seconds of Beth’s message was her trying to catch her breath in between howls of laughter at his irreverent humor. “Hi, James.” She wheezed. “Five thirty is fine for Sunday.” Setting her phone down, she sighed heavily and wished Lily was home to tell her what to wear. In lieu of her best friend’s advice, she decided to go through her closet and see if by some miracle she could put something together on her own.
Numerous outfits later, she looked at herself in the mirror and facing the hard facts ruled out losing ten pounds in the next twenty-four hours. She sighed again, grabbed her car keys and headed for the car in hopes of finding something that would make James…make him what? What did she really want, what could she possibly hope to gain out of this…she hesitated to use the L word.
She grimaced into the sun as she pulled out onto the street leading to the mall. “List time,” she said firmly. “First, he’s gorgeous. Second, he’s funny. Third, he’s the brother of my best friend’s husband. Fourth, he’s gorgeous. Wait, did that one,” she chided herself. “Fifth, he asked me to have dinner with him. I mean, it’s James Kelly for heaven’s sake, adored by millions of screaming women the world over.” That sobering thought alone nearly made her turn around and go right back home. The snide inner voice reminded her she was deluding herself and she heaved a miserable sigh.
Her phone vibrated in the back pocket of her jeans and she pulled it out, nearly swerving off the street in the process. After successful negotiation of the intersection, she pulled into the nearest strip mall to answer it. “Hi, James.”
“Hi yourself, beautiful. Don’t you go getting second thoughts on me now, you’ve already committed to going tomorrow. I’ve picked out clothes and everything,” he said, his voice light with barely disguised excitement.
She froze. How…”What makes you think I’m having second thoughts?” she squeaked in a voice that was just a tad too high to be perceived as normal.
“I don’t know, just a feeling I had. I get those sometimes, like the night you tried to run away from me without even saying goodnight.” He chuckled.
She winched at the reminder. “So how did you know?” she drawled, just to see if he’d answer. Beth already knew exactly how–each member of the Kelly sept came gifted with extremely heightened senses of perception. Meg was frighteningly intuitive, while Ian had received formal training in the magical arts from his maternal grandmother, an Irish cailleach, or witch. Lily said that Ian had confided to her that Sean was adept at dowsing–useful considering he’s the head of a mining company, she thought–and Heather’s specialty was psychometry. She knew their mother kept tabs on her children by scrying, and she also knew nobody in the family ever, ever talked about it. James was obviously precognitive. A whole family of witches and each one thinks they’re hiding it from the others. At least I’m out of the broom closet, she thought with a smile.
He changed the subject. “You’re going,” he said, but the hesitant lift at the end of the sentence made it come out more like a question than a statement of fact.
She couldn’t help but grin at the whole absurdity of the situation. “Yes, James, I’m going. I promise.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “No. Ees no goot,” he replied in a heavily accented voice, “you must geev me gypsy oath.” Beth barely got the words out to repeat the promise in her own gypsy voice before they were both laughing.
She heard someone call out to him, and he swore under his breath. “Darlin’, I’ve got to go. Duty calls. Dropping his voice low, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” The line disconnected, and she wondered again at the secrecy surrounding his words. Those thoughts soon turned to what on earth she was going to wear and with a renewed sense of purpose she started the car and continued toward the mall.
On Sunday, Beth decided that she probably didn’t need two whole hours to get ready, but in case something went wrong, she’d have extra time. As it was, she used up all of her time just checking and rechecking every minute detail of her appearance. She wore her hair loose, with faux jeweled combs at her temples pulling it away from her face.
The outfit she had chosen fulfilled her three requirements. It was flattering, classy, and on sale. The sleeveless rayon dress was loose and flowing, falling just past her knees. It was a dark gray, matching her new scarf perfectly, which she wore draped around her neck and knotted loosely just above where her cleavage peeked out from the top of the scooped neckline. The matching jacket had long sleeves, and with the gray pumps she found in her closet–had to be Lily’s–she was all set. Her makeup was light, and for once both eyes looked even. As she fluffed her hair for the third time, she glanced at the clock. Five thirty-nine, I will not start getting nervous yet, she told herself firmly.
At five forty-two, the knock she was expecting came. Taking a deep, settling breath she opened the door slowly. James stood there with a bouquet of daisies in a riot of colors. With a sheepish smile he said, “I’m sorry I’m late. It took a little longer than I expected to get here and I realized on the way that I couldn’t just show up at your door all empty-handed.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. She stepped aside to let him come in then took the flowers to the kitchen to put them in…she glanced around frantically. The souvenir pilsner glass from The Rose and Crown, she decided, and snatching it from her pantry found that it was perfect as a makeshift vase. She turned back to look at him and her mouth formed a silent o.
Ought to be a law against looking that good. James wore a dark gray linen suit jacket and pants that matched her dress shade almost as if they had coordinated beforehand. His white oxford was open at the throat, a glint of gold around his neck. Black leather loafers completed the picture. Just the picture of scrumptiousness, Beth decided with a mental sigh.
He gave her a brilliant smile and stepped forward to take her hands. “You are even more beautiful than I remember,” he said, raising them to his lips for a gentle kiss. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. Your dress is lovely.” He swept her with an appreciative gaze then growled low. “I’m sorry. There’s only so much I can resist,” he murmured pulling her into a tight embrace. After a moment, she shyly tightened her arms around his waist. Her head lay against his chest, the rhythmic pounding pulsing under her cheek.
Tilting her face up to meet his James said, “We’ve got reservations for quarter after six, so we should probably go.” With a bow, he opened the door for her then pulled it closed behind him, giving the knob a little jiggle to make sure it locked. “Oops, forgot to ask,” he gasped, eyes wide with innocence, “you hav
e your keys, then? I’d hate for you to have to come back to my hotel with me because you’re locked out.”
“Spare set,” she assured him, shaking her clutch purse so he could hear the jingle.
“Bugger. Foiled again,” James said under his breath. They paused, met each other’s eyes and broke into laughter.
Typical for the time of year, the early evening was humid but a cooling breeze from the gulf made the warmth tolerable. A stray gust caught a lock of James’s hair and teased it around his cheek. She resisted the urge to reach up and smooth it back in place, thinking the gesture might be a little too much like…something they weren’t. Yet, her little voice offered slyly. Beth shook if off with an imperceptible shiver and forced a bright smile. Once on the stairs leading to the parking lot, she got a look at their transportation for the evening. “A limo?” she asked slowly.
“Yes,” he said simply. The uniformed driver stood at the ready to open the door for them. James took her hand as she slid into the cool interior, but did not release it when he eased in beside her. They were moving within moments and Beth looked around with wonder-filled eyes.
“I’ve never ridden in a limo before,” she said, trying to keep the awestruck tone to a minimum. “You probably get to ride in them all the time, though.”
“It’s nice not to have to drive. That way I can focus my attention all on you,” he said, puffing out his chest proudly. “I want you to pay particular notice to the amount of self-control I’m exercising this evening, darlin’. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I got here, but I’m firmly committed to making a good impression.”
Beth gave a little pout. “Maybe one kiss would be oka–”
His lips were on hers before she could finish the sentence, brushing in a reverent caress. He brought his hand up slowly, sliding it behind her neck and under her hair. Her lips parted in a little sigh of pleasure at the intimate touch. Seizing that small opportunity to explore, his velvety tongue teased hers into responding. When she reached up to thread her fingers in his hair, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her tightly to him. She caught his lower lip in her teeth with a gentle tug.
The Gypsy Ribbon Page 9
