Instantly he was in the chair next to me, holding both of my hands in his. His lips wavered temptingly in front of me.
“Now I know you’re lying, Nicci,” he mumbled and then he leaned over and kissed my cheek tenderly.
I could feel a spark ignite within me as his lips grazed my skin. I tried to pull away but his hands held me firmly in place.
“I know I do something to you, just like you do something to me.” His breath teased my earlobe. “You’ve been doing something to me since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“Hate to interrupt,” our waitress said as she put a drink down on the table in front of Dallas.
I took immediate advantage of his surprise to free myself and pull away.
“Do you want another screwdriver, sweetheart?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” I stated, trying to quell my unwanted desire. “Make it a double.”
Chapter 16
It was New Year’s Eve and we were getting ready for BeBe Comeaux’s party. My father, Uncle Lance, and Dallas were off in the other bedrooms putting on their tuxedos and preparing for the evening. I, on the other hand, was standing in front of my bathroom mirror trying to keep from having a nervous breakdown.
Ever since our excursion to the French Quarter, I had been having a difficult time being in the same room with Dallas. I had also become quite accident-prone. I was continually dropping whatever item I was holding whenever he spoke to me or running into furniture when he came into the room.
“What’s wrong with you?” my father had asked that morning when Dallas came into the kitchen after his run. I had spilled my cup of coffee all over the kitchen table as soon as he appeared in the doorway.
“I’m just edgy about the party, I guess,” I had told him as I ran to get some paper towels.
I noticed Dallas never commented about any of my missteps. He would just grin as he watched me bumbling about trying to clean up one mess or another.
I was also heading to the bar every chance I could get, trying to steady my nerves. Dallas, on the other hand, had stopped drinking. Though he would occasionally have a drink before dinner, gone were the three or four consecutive drinks in an evening that I had witnessed when we were together in New York.
“Better slow it down, kid,” Uncle Lance had recommended to me the night before BeBe’s party. I had just finished my third screwdriver. “You keep drinking like that and you’ll end up like me,” he added.
“Now there’s an incentive for sobriety,” I had said as I placed my empty glass in the sink behind the bar. “Shouldn’t you be going back to your condo or new girlfriend or something?” I had inquired, wondering why he had opted to stay on at the house after Christmas.
“Are you kidding!” he had cried out. “And miss any of the action? I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
I thought about my uncle’s warning as I stood before my bathroom mirror dressed in my strapless bra and panties. I desperately wanted a drink to settle my nerves before the party, but had decided against it. I needed my wits about me tonight.
As I applied my makeup, I kept wondering how the evening would transpire and hoped Dallas would get all the information he needed and head back to New York. I was daydreaming of the prospect of his departure when my bathroom door suddenly flew open, making me jab myself in the eye with the mascara wand.
I spun around to find Dallas standing at the entrance to my bathroom.
“Jesus!” I called out and grabbed for the robe to cover my partially naked body. “Do you ever knock?”
He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms over his chest, and leered at me while I quickly pulled on my robe. “Don’t dress for me.”
“What do you want?” I asked, securely tying the robe about my waist.
He was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo. The stainless steel watch gleamed against his wrist. He smelled of his spicy cologne and his dark blue eyes were seemingly lit from within.
My legs suddenly felt weak.
“I, ah, hope,” he pointed to his eye, “that you plan on doing a better job with your makeup. I need you to look breathtaking tonight.”
I turned back to the mirror and saw the large black raccoon-looking glob of mascara smeared underneath my eye. “Damn!” I cursed as I reached for some tissues to wipe away the mistake.
“Look, Nicci,” Dallas said behind me, “I know you’re nervous about tonight, but just stick close to my side and let me handle everything. I plan on provoking people tonight, and I am going to need you looking cool and confident, not tripping over yourself and dropping your drinks everywhere.”
I glanced back at him through the mirror. “Very funny.”
He smiled and was about to turn away when he stopped. “And wear that black beaded dress tonight. The one David painted you in. I want everyone at the party to remember you and David, together.”
After he left and I had redone my makeup, I pulled the dress from my closet and laid it out on my bed. It was an iconic symbol to me of David and of our time together. All the emotions he had stirred within me came back as I looked at the long, beaded, off-the-shoulder black gown. I remembered how he had held me in his arms and danced with me in this dress under the twinkling lights of Val’s party at the Botanical Gardens. And how we left the party early, eager to be alone. The way he drove his red Jeep, his dark, wavy hair flying about in the wind as we headed back to his cottage in Lakeview. How he had painted me in this dress and how he had kissed me. Sometimes I still found it hard to believe he was gone.
“Does it ever get easier?” I asked myself.
I put on the dress and zipped up the back. I stared at my reflection in the bedroom mirror and decided to leave my auburn hair down, as it had been that night at Val’s party. The outside of me was the same. The same oval face, the same figure, the same dress, but on the inside I was not the same.
“When this crap is over,” I mumbled as I examined the dress in the mirror, “I’m burning this damn thing.” I grabbed my black evening bag from the chair by the door and headed out of my room.
The men were gathered, waiting at the base of the stairs, when I walked out onto the landing.
“Darling, you look wonderful,” my father commented as I made my way down the steps.
Uncle Lance nodded to me. “Damn, girl, you look sensational.”
I smiled as I approached the trio. “I’m glad you decided to join us, Uncle Lance.”
“Are you kidding?” Uncle Lance laughed. “This is better than reality television. I’m going to watch this kid,” he said, pointing to Dallas, “work his magic.”
I turned to Dallas. “Do I pass inspection?”
He grinned at me. “Sweet cheeks, I couldn’t be happier.”
The Hilton was located behind the now famous Morial Convention Center along the city’s riverfront. BeBe Comeaux’s party was being held on the top floor of the Hilton in the Safari Room. When we stepped out from the elevators, a jungle-motif room overlooking the Mississippi River greeted us. There was a bar decorated with bamboo, plastic parrots, and an assortment of potted tropical plants.
A large number of guests had already gathered in the Safari Room, mingling among the buffet tables and spinning on a small black and white dance floor. BeBe Comeaux greeted us at the door and I noticed she gave Uncle Lance an especially lingering embrace.
A disc jockey was set up in the corner of the dance floor playing music even I was not familiar with.
“What happened to classic disco?” Uncle Lance grimaced as the pounding beat of rap music vibrated within the room.
“Perhaps we are getting old, Lance,” my father said, patting his brother on the shoulder.
Uncle Lance smirked at my father. “Me, never. You, on the other hand, were born old.”
“You still got something going on with that tramp BeBe?” a familiar voice insinuated behind us.
We all turned in unison to see Val, decked out in a stunning lavender silk gown with an array of lavend
er feathers fanned out behind her silver hair.
Uncle Lance smiled at her. “Well, well, Valie, you’ve gone native.”
Val cackled as she stroked her feathers. “No, this is my homage to BeBe and her idiotic jungle theme.”
I leaned over and pecked her cheek. “I didn’t think you would be coming.”
“Of course I was coming, pet.” Val smiled at me and winked at Dallas. “I came to check out BeBe’s set-up. Have to make sure I outdo her next weekend at my party.” Her eyes scanned the room. “Which won’t be hard.”
Dallas kissed her cheek. “Glad for the support. I have to admit I’m a little nervous about meeting Nicci’s friends.”
“I hope you brought a bulletproof vest,” Val cackled. “Dearie, even the National Guard wouldn’t set foot in this room without heavy artillery.” She paused and looked out into the crowd. “Uh, oh.”
We all turned to see what had made Val go quiet. Across the room, heading straight for us, came Colleen, dragging her man Ray behind her. She was dressed in an off-the-shoulder pink disaster of ribbon, intertwined with silk, intertwined with lace, and all wrapped snugly around her ample bosom and slim hips. It trailed to the floor in a short train, had a plunging neckline, and a slit up the right side revealing Colleen’s thick ankles. She wore a pair of matching incandescent pink rhinestone high heels.
“Oh my God!” was all Val could get out before the two were on us.
We all stood there staring at Colleen’s outfit.
Uncle Lance was the first to break the silence. “So Colleen, you, ah, designed this one too?”
“Oh yes, Uncle Lance,” Colleen squealed. “I’ve got the most wonderful designer I’m working with. I’m hoping one day to develop my own line.”
“For who, the blind?” Uncle Lance mumbled underneath his breath.
“It is certainly eye catching,” I quickly added, hoping she did not hear my uncle’s remark.
She did a turn for us and ran her hands delicately over the hodgepodge of fabric hanging off her. I could see Dallas keeping his eyes downcast while trying to contain his grin.
“So you paid someone to make this?” Val inquired.
But Colleen did not get a chance to answer; Aunt Hattie suddenly appeared with Uncle Ned in tow. She was wearing a form-fitting blue taffeta dress with a large sash across the waist and white lace around the neck and hemline. Uncle Ned was in a tailored black tuxedo, looking very bored.
“Hello, everyone,” Aunt Hattie said, greeting our group, and then began the usual kisses for my father, uncle, and me. Then she gasped.
“Good lord, child!” Aunt Hattie’s brown eyes were as wide as hazelnuts as she looked at her daughter’s dress. “Where in the hell did you get that?”
Colleen patted the dress lovingly. “Edna Doyle made it for me.”
Aunt Hattie grimaced. “Colleen, you look like a pink-encrusted garbage bag.”
Uncle Lance began to laugh. My father covered his mouth trying not to laugh while Val scowled at Aunt Hattie.
“I like it, Hattie,” Val snapped. “The kid’s got guts.”
“Thank you, Auntie Val.” Colleen raised her head proudly to her mother. “See?”
“Perhaps,” Uncle Ned finally spoke up, “we should all make our way over to the bar.”
“Good idea,” Val agreed and started across the room to a bamboo-covered bar.
Aunt Hattie, Uncle Ned, Colleen, and Ray followed behind her.
Dallas held out his arm to me. “Shall we?”
“And what do you want us to do?” my father whispered to Dallas.
“Stick close by,” Dallas told my father. “Keep your eyes open and be ready for a hasty departure.”
“What are you going to do?” Uncle Lance asked, curiosity gleaming in his green eyes.
“Make my introductions.” Dallas then looked over to me. “Ready?”
I nodded and let him lead me away.
Scattered about the room I saw a few of the faces I had known from my time in the city before David. I stopped and said hello to some old family friends, the Trotters, the Hendersons, and the Roys. I introduced Dallas as a friend in for the holidays from New York. We had just about made it halfway across the room to the bar when I spotted Sammy Fallon.
She was talking with one of her cronies from the socially prominent set referred to by those in the know as the “old guard.” She had not changed much in the almost two years since I had seen her. She still had the body of a centerfold model, her face was without the slightest wrinkle, and her blue eyes remained those of a cruel old woman. Her low-cut azure satin dress clung to her overly expanded cleavage and slim hips. Her blonde hair was up and wrapped in a twist, and she was covered from head to toe in diamonds.
“Sammy Fallon,” I whispered to Dallas.
“Ah, so that is the tigress.” He leaned in closer to me while keeping his eyes on Sammy. “I can see why David thought her common.”
“He said that?”
He nodded. “Said she was a classless woman who had bought her breeding and not earned it.”
I smiled to myself as I could almost hear David saying those exact words.
He pulled at my arm as he started toward Sammy. “Let’s go over and introduce me.”
“And then what?” I questioned, but I never got to hear his reply because Sammy’s eyes spotted us in the crowd. I noticed her line of sight immediately zeroed in on Dallas. The tigress had spotted fresh meat.
“Nicci!” She smiled as Dallas and I came forward. She leaned over to brush my cheek with a light kiss. When she stood back again, her sinister eyes hungrily traveled over Dallas’s body. “It’s been too long,” she added. “And who is this?”
“Sammy Fallon, this is Dallas August. He’s a friend in from New York for the holidays. He’s an architect.”
“Architect?” she asked, and then teasingly dipped her voluminous cleavage into his line of sight. “Really! With what firm?”
Dallas smiled devilishly. “Lewis, Schribbner, and Libby.”
“Ah,” she gave a toothsome grin, “I know them well.” Her blue eyes locked in on the way I had my arm wrapped around his. “So how long have you two been an item?”
“We met at Nicci’s publisher’s party,” Dallas said, sounding more charming than I had ever heard. “I fell for her the moment I saw her.” He laughed, his fake-sounding laugh, as he pulled me closer to his side.
Sammy smiled, but the eagerness had drained from her face. She let her gaze linger for a moment on my dress. A flash of recognition registered in her eyes and I could not help but smile.
“Oh, I read your book, my dear.” She patted me gently on the arm. “And I simply loved it. How on earth did you come up with all of those interesting characters?” Her capped white fangs lingered in front of me for a moment. “You are a very good writer, Nicci. I can’t wait for the next one.”
I felt Dallas pinch my arm. “I’m working on it as we speak, Mrs. Fallon.” I frowned at him, not sure what the pinch meant, but he just stood there grinning like an idiot.
“I’m so glad.” Sammy paused and glanced casually about the room. “So how is your father, Nicci?”
“He’s here tonight with Uncle Lance,” I said, knowing Sammy would immediately go in search of him. For years it had been rumored that Sammy’s obsession with Beauvoir Scrap had been the result of her unrequited love for my father.
Sammy’s eyes eagerly darted about the ballroom. “I’ll have to find Bill and say hello. Have fun this evening,” she added and was about to turn away when Dallas stopped her.
“Sammy!” he called out. “I hope you will save me a dance?”
I watched as Sammy’s face lit up with renewed interest. “Why, I would be delighted, Dallas,” she cooed and then her smile faltered slightly as she turned to me. “That is if you don’t mind, Nicci?”
“No, of course not.” I gave her my best well-rehearsed smile reserved solely for the overly curious and generally obnoxious. “What’s one
dance between old friends?” I added, sarcastically.
She laughed, gave Dallas another hungry look, and then casually walked away.
“Pushing it a bit,” Dallas mumbled under his breath beside me.
“I owe her.” I paused and eyed him warily. “Be careful dancing with that one. You might catch something.”
“I hope that means you’re getting jealous,” he whispered in my ear.
I let my eyes wander over to the entrance. “No. Just wondering what you’re up to.”
His eyes followed mine. “Let me know when you see Eddie around. I want to make sure he sees me dancing with his mother. That should set off some fireworks.”
“I hope you brought your gun.”
“Time for a drink,” he announced, pulling me in the direction of the bar.
Dallas did not loosen his grip on my arm until we had reached the bamboo-covered bar. We had just ordered two glasses of champagne when Val came up to our side, smiling.
“Heads up,” she whispered to me. “BeBe invited the moron.”
I pretended to look shocked. “Val, no!”
“Thought you should know,” she said, and then she skirted back into the crowd.
I turned to Dallas. “Val just found out about BeBe inviting Michael.”
Dallas stood next to me staring out into the room. “That should spark some interest in this group. They’ll all be waiting to see what happens between you and him.”
The bartender returned with two champagne flutes filled with the golden liquid. I picked up my glass and quickly downed half of the contents in one sip. Dallas watched as I placed the empty flute back on the bar.
“You drink a lot,” Dallas stated.
I glared at him without saying a word.
“In fact,” he went on, “ever since we visited the French Quarter, I’ve noticed you have been drinking quite a bit.” He looked past me to the partygoers filling the ballroom. “Something bothering you, Nicci?”
I sighed into his shoulder. “Yes, this entire escapade is getting to me.”
“Don’t quit on me now.” His eyes focused on something behind me. “Not when it’s just about to get very interesting,” he mumbled.
The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series Page 46
