by Carew, Amber
"Great, I’ll go get them from my car."
* * * *
Vanessa peered in the window of Custom Costumes, feeling like a thief casing the joint. She strained to see past the fairy costume to the people inside, trying to assure herself that none of the store clerks who’d seen her on Saturday were here now. Not that they’d really remember her, she felt certain--she wasn’t all that memorable--but why take chances?
Finally convinced she was safe, she retrieved the costumes from her car and slipped into the store, keeping her sunglasses on just in case.
"Ah, you’re returning Mr. Powers’ costumes, I see." A slightly balding man with grey hair and glasses bustled over to her. "I’m Mr. Green. I spoke with Mr. Powers just this morning. Has he found out any more about the Cinderella costume?"
"Any more? Uh, no."
"I see. I can’t figure out why he wants to know who returned it. His secretary probably just asked someone to bring it back for her, though why it didn’t come back with these ones I don’t know."
"The woman who was supposed to wear it took sick," Vanessa volunteered.
"Well, there, you see? Rachel probably just asked a friend to bring it back."
"I guess," Vanessa agreed, not really wanting to be drawn and further into the conversation. All she wanted to do was get out of here.
A young woman ducked past Vanessa and scooted into the back room.
"So why are you bringing these back instead of Rachel? Is she sick or something?"
"Yes, that’s right."
"Nothing wrong with the baby?" His eyebrows arched up in concern.
"No. The baby’s fine." Good heavens. Vanessa knew Rachel had only been in here once. This man had a better memory than most. Thank heavens he hadn’t been here on Saturday. She felt sure he’d have been able to describe her from top to bottom given the sharpness in those friendly, but observant, eyes.
"So you’re filling in for her, are you?"
"Mm hmm." She glanced at her watch. "I have to be getting back. Are we all done?" she asked politely.
He tore the tags off the hangers and stapled them to the bill. "We are now." He smiled. "Have a nice day."
Harold Green watched the lovely young woman leave his shop. This Powers sure seemed to attract pretty little things as his secretaries. Rachel had been more talkative but this one clearly had something on her mind.
"Hey, Dad. Gonna treat me to lunch?" His teenage daughter leaned on the counter beside him.
"You got paid today. Why don’t you treat me for a change?"
"Yeah, right." She grinned and hung up the three costumes on the rack behind the counter. "I wonder how come that lady didn’t wait until today to bring in the other costume."
"Other costume?"
"I think it was Sleeping Beauty." She frowned. "Or maybe Cinderella. Anyway, she brought it back Saturday morning."
"Really? It was probably someone who just looks like her."
"No way. I remember her earrings. Dangly little silver stars." She hooked her arm around his. "So, we going?"
"Hold on, Suzie. I just have to make a call first."
* * * *
"Vanessa. How nice. You didn’t need to bring me flowers," Rachel exclaimed, as her face lit up at the white blossoms tipped in rich burgundy.
"Don’t be silly. I know how you love carnations, especially fancy colored ones." She’d seen the flowers at a stand on the corner near her office and couldn’t resist. "I also brought you a knitting book and some yarn. You get your first lesson tomorrow night." She tugged the pattern book from her shoulder bag and watched Rachel’s eyes light up further at the bright-eyed baby dressed in a sweater and hat set on the cover.
"Oh, it’s adorable."
"And that one’s not too hard. You could do it."
"You’re kidding, right? I have no talent for this sort of thing."
"Ah, ah, ah. No negative attitude. You told me you’ve always wanted to learn, so you’ve got to give it a try." She examined her friend’s expression, wondering if she was being too pushy. "You do want to, don’t you, Rach?"
Rachel’s mouth curled up in a half grin. "You know I do. Just don’t laugh if it doesn’t come out right."
"You know me better than that." She handed the book to her friend. "Pick out something you’d like to start on--they’re all rated for beginners--and I’ll pick up the yarn and needles for you tomorrow."
"Okay. Thanks, pal." She snapped the book closed and put it on her bedside table. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. "Oh, Vanessa. Come here quick."
"What is it?" Alarmed, Vanessa raced to her side.
Rachel grabbed Vanessa’s hand and laid it flat on her belly. "Do you feel that?"
Vanessa felt a tiny thump against her palm. "Oh." She glanced at Rachel and a huge grin captured her face. "Is that the baby kicking?" she asked.
Rachel nodded, her mouth curling up in the contented smile of a mother-to-be. A baby. Vanessa’s eyes misted over as she thought about how lucky Rachel was, with a wonderful husband who adored children and her first child on the way.
Rachel sighed. "Enough of that for now. I want to know how your first day at the office went. Do you like Nick?"
Vanessa sat down in the chair beside the bed. "He’s … uh … very nice."
"What do you mean ‘he’s … uh … very nice’? Did something go wrong?"
She straightened her skirt, smoothing it down over her knees. "No, not exactly."
Rachel reached out and took Vanessa’s hand. "Hey, Vanessa, what is it?" Her eyes narrowed. "You were trying too hard to make a good impression, weren’t you? You don’t have to, you know. Just be yourself and do your job with your usual efficiency and he’ll love you."
"But, Rachel, I…." She lifted her gaze to Rachel’s.
"What, Vanessa? Do you think he doesn’t like you?"
"No, that’s not it."
"Then what is it?"
She pursed her lips. "He’s going to fire me. I just know it."
Rachel squeezed her hand. "Fire you? For heaven’s sake, why? What did you do?"
She tugged her hand away and stood up to pace. "Because I went to that party."
Rachel pushed herself higher against her pillows. "Are you back to that, again? What could that possibly have to do with you getting fired?"
Vanessa turned back to face Rachel. "You know he was the host of the party."
"Of course I know. I’m his secretary--I mean I was his secretary--remember? But he’s not going to fire you just because you crashed his party."
Vanessa leaned against the back of the chair, her fingers gripping the brown vinyl tightly. "No? He might if he found out I was the woman he kissed."
"Nick? He was the man you told me about?" Rachel shook her head, a broad grin spreading across her mouth. "Well, how about that? You and Nick."
"No!" Vanessa slammed a fist on the top of the chair. "Not me and Nick."
Rachel glanced up at her, startled. "Well, if he kissed you … I mean, this is great. Nick’s a wonderful guy and he’d be perfect for you."
"Perfect? How can you say that?" Vanessa took to pacing again. "Nicholas Powers is rich and powerful. He’s part of the social elite. He and I are about as different as two people can be." He’d never want someone like me.
Rachel leaned forward, tracking her friend’s movements with her eyes. "Not where it counts, Vanessa. If you give yourself the chance to get to know him, you’ll find he’s a really down to earth guy and…."
Vanessa stopped in her tracks. "And a two-timer. You’re forgetting about Amy."
"Amy? Is that who he thought you were?" Rachel laughed. "Then you have no problem."
"How can you say that? He kissed Amy."
"You mean you."
Exasperated, she dropped into the chair. "It may have been me, but he thought it was Amy."
Rachel shook her head. "No, you must have that wrong. He and Amy have been friends forever--just friends. I can’t believe--"
"I don’t have it wrong an
d he didn’t kiss me--her--like a friend," Vanessa muttered.
"Look, there has to be some mistake. If you just talk to him, I’m sure--"
Vanessa gripped the armrests with clenched fingers. "There’s no way I’m going to talk to him about this. I don’t want him to know I was the one behind the mask."
"Why not? He’s obviously attracted to you. He’s a rich eligible bachelor. He’s the perfect Prince Charming. What’s wrong with you?"
He scares me to death. Or rather, my reaction to him scares me to death.
"If he finds out I was the one, he’d be sure to fire me."
Rachel slumped back against her pillow. "Oh, for heaven’s sake, why do you think that?"
"Because I was trespassing and … well, I think he’ll be embarrassed that he mistook me for his girlfriend--"
"She’s not his girlfriend."
"--and he won’t want to admit he was actually attracted to someone like me."
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, someone like you?"
"You know, someone who isn’t … successful."
Rachel’s fingers slid around the bed rail. "Vanessa, just tell him," she said, her voice tight.
"No, in fact, I … I think I’m going to quit."
"Quit?" Her fingers clenched. "You are crazy. This is the best break you’ll ever get. If you do well on this job, they’ll probably find you a permanent position. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted? To get into a big firm like Power Systems as an executive secretary? You can’t give it up now."
"I know but … If I stay, he’s bound to figure out I was the one." Vanessa leaned forward in the chair. "He’s started looking for her--me--you know? He called up the costume shop and asked them to describe the woman who returned the costume."
"You’re kidding. You must have knocked his socks off with that kiss. So he knows what you look like now? And he hasn’t twigged yet?"
"No, he didn’t get a description. I guess the woman who served me only works on weekends."
She felt a twinge of conscience about the little white lie, but tried to ignore it. Better guilt than the fear that had flashed through her when she’d checked Nick’s voice messages after lunch. There had been one from Mr. Green at the costume shop, telling Nick that the woman who’d brought in the three costumes today had been the same one who brought in the Cinderella costume on Saturday. How had he figured that out? She squashed the tiny feeling of guilt at having erased the message. After all, for Nicholas Powers this was a game of hide and seek, but for Vanessa it was self-preservation.
"Vanessa, you just can’t quit your job. Look at it this way, if he were to find out, what’s the worst he can do? Even if he does fire you at some point, you’ll have made some money at the job--and he’ll owe you severance. Being fired won’t look any worse on your resume than deciding to leave after a single day on the job. And you know the likelihood is, he’ll never find out.
"Rachel…." She sighed and glanced down at her hands. "He has my earring, the one I lost." She felt a tug in her heart, wondering if she’d ever get it back.
"Vanessa, if--"
She immediately cut off that persuasive voice, certain that Rachel would try again to talk her into telling Nick. "Don’t you see?" She sank into the chair. "I can’t stay. If I do, I’m afraid he’s going to figure it out."
"No, Vanessa. Don’t you see? This means that you’ve got to stay."
Vanessa locked gazes with her. "Why?"
Rachel’s hands fluttered up. "Well, what better way to keep him off track than to be on hand when the clues come in? That way, you’ll know what he knows, and maybe you can divert any information that lets him get too close."
Vanessa felt her face drain of blood. Rachel had a very good point. It had already happened once.
"And you’ve got to get your earring back," Rachel continued. "You can’t do that if you run off."
"I guess you’re right, Rachel."
She grinned impishly. "Aren’t I always?"
* * * *
Nick walked through the hospital corridor, following the blue line on the floor that the receptionist had told him would lead to the maternity ward. He glanced at the numbers on the rooms, following until he saw five seventeen, then peered inside to see if Rachel was awake--and decent. She was, on both counts, wearing a red plaid nightgown and glancing through a magazine. He tugged on his collar as he entered the room. He always felt a bit uncomfortable visiting a woman in a hospital.
"Rachel, how are you doing?"
Rachel looked up from the magazine--something with a picture of a baby on it--and smiled warmly.
"Nick, what are you doing here?"
He stepped further into the room. "Can’t a guy come visit the woman who’s kept his office in order for five years?"
"Thanks for the flowers you sent. They’re gorgeous." She indicated a huge basket of mixed flowers, the purples and pinks adding vibrant color to the beige room. "So how are things at the office without me? Falling around your ears?" she teased.
"They would be if it weren’t for the great secretary personnel hired for me."
Rachel’s hand fluttered to her flannel-clad chest. "I’m crushed. I’m gone a whole day and you don’t even miss me."
"Seriously, you know I do, Rachel. And your job will be waiting for you when you get back."
"Thanks, Nick." She took a sip from the water glass sitting on the little bedside table. "So, how’d your party go? Meet anyone special?"
He settled into her guest chair. "Funny you should ask that. A woman crashed the party."
Her gaze flicked to his face. "Oh? And how do you know that? With everyone wearing a mask and all?"
"I thought she was Amy, but when we…." He cleared his throat. "Well, I figured out it wasn’t her."
"So, did you have her thrown out or something? The impostor, I mean."
"No, in fact, I want to find her."
Again, that flickering glance. "Why?"
"I want to know who she is and why she came to my party." His reasons were a lot more complicated than that but he wasn’t about to confide his inner secrets to Rachel, no matter how long they’d worked together.
"You don’t think she was up to something shady, do you?"
"Shady?" He glanced at Rachel and was surprised by the look of concern etched across her features. "No, nothing like that."
"Nick, I know you. You wouldn’t be chasing after this woman if you didn’t have a solid reason."
He shifted in his seat, unsure how to explain his crazy reaction. Was it a good enough reason that he couldn’t stop thinking about her? That he desperately wanted to hold her again, to feel her lips under his?
"Did … something happen between you two?"
He folded his hands together and dropped them between his knees. "Not really."
Except the most devastating kiss I’ve ever experienced--then she ran away with my heart. But no, he was being foolish. Love at first sight didn’t make any sense, especially when he didn’t know anything about the woman. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t get to know her. He had to find out why she had this unnerving affect on him, to explore the magic that had shimmered between them when they danced, to--
"Then why do you want to find her?"
He got up and paced over to the window, staring out into the darkness with unseeing eyes. "Look, it’s a long story and I don’t want to get into it." He peered back at her, frowning. "The point is, she was at my party uninvited and I want to know why."
He raked his hand through his hair. "The big question is, how did she get her hands on the costume? I’d really like to find this woman and I think you could help. You were going to take it back Friday afternoon. I thought maybe this woman picked it up from the shop after you brought it back, but the store owner said it didn’t come back until Saturday morning. Do you have any idea what happened to it?"
Rachel gulped nervously.
"I … It was in my car when I went to lunch but then I had to go straig
ht to my doctor’s appointment. The last time I saw it, it was hanging in the back." Her hands went to her cheeks, covering a gentle flush. "I’m sorry, Nick, I didn’t get it back." She flung her hands wide. "I thought taking it back Saturday would be okay, and then with being sent to the hospital and all…."
Nick raised his hands in a halting gesture, not wanting Rachel to get distressed any further in her delicate state. "Don’t worry about it. Someone must have taken it from your car, but it arrived safely back in the shop. No harm done."
Except to his plan to find Cinderella.
But now he wondered how his mystery woman had secured the costume. Had she stolen it from Rachel's car? Could his mystery woman be a thief as well as a gate crasher?
* * * *
Nick stepped out of the hospital and headed toward the parking lot. A light rain misted the air. Tiny raindrops glistened in the light of the street lamps.
His talk with Rachel hadn’t shed any light on the mystery, he thought despondently as he pulled his car onto the street. A lone figure standing at the bus stop--a very familiar, curvaceous figure--drew his attention. He pulled up in front of her.
"Vanessa. Hop in, I’ll give you a lift."
"Mr. Powers?" Her voice sounded shocked. "I mean, Nick. I … uh--"
"You aren’t thinking of refusing, are you? The rain is about to get worse, by the look of it, and I’m sure you’d prefer to ride in a nice comfortable car rather than a city bus."
"I don’t want to take you out of your way," she answered reluctantly.
"Get in, woman!" he said in mock impatience.
Vanessa stepped forward and slid into the car. The leather seats felt soft and supple against her hands. "I’m going to get your upholstery all wet." She chewed on her lower lip, knowing this one seat probably cost more than her entire wardrobe.
"Don’t worry about it. It’ll dry. Were you here visiting a friend?"
Vanessa nodded.
"What a coincidence. This is the same hospital my secretary is in."
Vanessa swallowed hard and stared out the window, hiding her flushed cheeks.
"So where do you live?" he asked.
She gave him directions to her low-rent building in the east end.
"I thought you said you have a car. Why are you taking a bus at night like this?"
