An easy smile curved Nick’s mouth. He’d pulled a thick hooded sweatshirt over his head; the white strings hung down his chest. His hair was pulled back from his face. “Maybe,” was all he said.
Delaney turned to the parade again. She raised her shoulders and buried her cold nose in the collar of her coat. There was only one thing worse than being baited by Nick, and that was wondering why he wasn’t baiting her at all. She’d seen very little of him since the day she’d knocked on the back door of his business. By tacit agreement, they were avoiding each other.
“Where did you come from?” Lisa asked him.
“I was making a few calls from the office. Has Sophie come by yet?”
“Not yet.”
Four boys dressed as bloody hockey players wheeled past on Roller Blades and were followed closely by Tommy Markham pulling his wife in a rickshaw. Helen was dressed as Lady Godiva, and on the back of the rickshaw hung a sign that read Helen’s Hair Hut. Quality cuts for ten dollars. Helen waved and threw kisses to the crowd, and on her head sat a rhinestone crown Delaney recognized all too well.
Delaney dropped her shoulders and uncovered the lower half of her face. “That’s pathetic! She’s still wearing her homecoming crown.”
“She wears it every year like she’s the queen of England or something.”
“Remember how she campaigned for homecoming queen, and I didn’t because campaigning was against the rules? Then after she won the school wouldn’t disqualify her? That crown should have been mine.”
“Are you still mad about that?”
Delaney folded her arms over her chest. “No.” But she was. She was annoyed with herself for giving Helen the power to irritate her after so many years. Delaney was cold, possibly neurotic, and very aware of the man standing behind her. Too aware. She didn’t have too see him to know how close he stood. She could feel him like a big human wall.
Except for the time Nick had ridden his bike in the parade like some crazed stunt rider and ended up with stitches in the top of his head, he’d always been a pirate-always. And every year she’d taken one look at his eye patch and fake sword, and her hands would get all clammy. A weird reaction considering that he usually told her she looked stupid.
She turned her head and glanced up at him again with his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and small gold hoop in his ear. He still looked like a pirate, and she was getting a warm little tingle in her stomach.
“I didn’t see your car in back,” he said, his eyes staring into hers.
“Um, no. Steve has it.”
A frown creased his brow. “Steve?”
“Steve Ames. He works for you.”
“Real young guy with dyed blond hair?”
“He’s not that young.”
“Uh-huh.” Nick shifted his weight to one foot and tilted his head slightly to the side. “Sure he’s not.”
“Well, he’s nice.”
“He’s a nancy boy.”
Delaney turned and scowled at her friend. “Do you think Steve’s a nancy boy?”
Lisa looked from Nick to Delaney. “You know I love you, but geez, the guy plays air guitar.”
Delaney shoved her hands into her pockets and turned to watch Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, and a Hershey’s Kiss walk by. It was true. She’d gone out with him twice and the guy played air guitar to everything. Nirvana. Metal Head. Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Steve played it all, and it was so embarrassing. But he was the closest thing she had to a boyfriend, although she wouldn’t even call him that. He was the only available man who’d paid attention to her since she’d arrived in Truly.
Except Nick. But he wasn’t available. Not to her anyway. Delaney leaned forward to look down the street and saw her Miata turn the corner. Steve steered the sports car with one hand, his hair dyed and cut short in a spiky crewcut. Two teenage girls sat like beauty queens directly behind him while one more girl waved from the passenger seat. Their hair was cut and styled to make them look as if they’d just stepped out of a teen magazine. Smooth and free-flowing and trendy. Delaney had scoured the high school, purposely searching for girls who weren’t cheerleaders or pep club officers. She’d wanted average girls she could make over to look fantastic.
She’d found them last week. After receiving their mothers’ approval, she’d gone to work on each of them earlier that morning. All three looked wonderful and were living, breathing advertisements for her salon. And if the girls weren’t enough, Delaney had taped a sign on the sides of her car that read: The Cutting Edge fixes ten-dollar haircuts.
“That’s going to drive Helen nuts,” Lisa muttered.
“I hope so.”
A collection of grim reapers, werewolves, and corpses passed, then a fifty-seven Chevy turned the corner with Louie at the wheel. Delaney took one look at his dark hair greased into a jelly roll and burst out laughing. He wore a tight white T-shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve. In the seat next to him sat Sophie with her hair in a high pony tail, bright red lipstick, and cat’s-eye sunglasses. She smacked bubble gum and snuggled inside Nick’s big leather jacket.
“Uncle Nick,” she called out and threw him a kiss.
Delaney heard his deep chuckle just before Louie revved the big engine for the crowd. The antique car shook and rumbled, then for a grand finale, backfired.
Startled, Delaney jumped back and collided with the immovable wall of Nick’s chest. His big hands grabbed her upper arms, and when she looked up at him, her hair brushed his throat. “Sorry,” she muttered.
His grasp on her tightened, and through her coat she felt his long fingers curl into the wool sleeve. His gaze swept across her cheeks, then lowered to her mouth. “Don’t be,” he said, and she felt the brush of his thumbs on the backs of her arms.
His gaze lifted to hers once again, and there was something hot and intense in the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to give her one of those kisses that devoured her resistance. Like they were lovers and the most natural thing in the world would be for her to put one hand on the back of his head and lower his face to hers. But they weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends. And in the end he stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides.
She turned around and sucked air deep into her lungs. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, feel the air between them charged with tension. The pull was so strong she was sure everyone around them could feel it, too. But when she glanced at Lisa, her friend was waving like a mad woman to Louie. Lisa hadn’t noticed.
Nick said something to Lisa and Delaney felt rather than heard him leave. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She glanced over her shoulder one last time and watched him disappear into the building behind them.
“Isn’t he cute?”
Delaney looked at her friend and shook her head. By no stretch of the imagination was Nick Allegrezza cute. He was hot. One hundred percent, testosterone-pumping, drool-inspiring hot.
“I helped him do his hair this morning.”
“Nick?”
“Louie.”
The light dawned. “Oh.”
“Why would I do Nick’s hair?”
“Forget it. Are you going to party at the Grange tonight?”
“Probably.”
Delaney checked her watch. She only had a few minutes before her one o’clock appointment. She bid Lisa good-bye and spent the rest of the afternoon on a three-color weave and two walk-ins.
When she was finished for the day, she quickly swept up hair from the last girl, then grabbed her coat and climbed up the back stairs to her apartment. She had plans to meet Steve at the costume party being held out in the old Grange hall. Steve had found a police uniform somewhere, and since he planned to impersonate a law enforcement officer, it seemed a given that she should impersonate a hooker. She already had the skirt and fishnet stockings, and she’d found a fluffy pink boa with matching handcuffs in the gag gift aisle at Howdy’s Trading Post.
Delaney stuck her key in
to the lock and noticed a white envelope on the step next to the toe of her black boot. She had a bad feeling she knew what it was even before she bent to pick it up. She opened it and pulled out a white piece of paper with four typewritten words: GET OUT OF TOWN, it said this time. She crushed the paper in her fist and glanced over her shoulder. The parking lot was empty of course. Whoever had left the envelope had done it while Delaney had been busy cutting hair. It would have been so easy.
Delaney retraced her steps to the parking lot and knocked on the back door of Allegrezza Construction. Nick’s Jeep wasn’t in the back lot.
The door swung open and Nick’s secretary, Ann Marie, appeared.
“Hi,” Delaney began. “I was wondering if you might have seen anyone back here today.”
“The garbage men emptied the Dumpster this afternoon.”
Delaney doubted she’d pissed off the garbage men. “How about Helen Markham?”
Ann Marie shook her head. “I didn’t see her today.”
Which didn’t mean Helen hadn’t left the note. After Delaney’s entry into the parade, Helen was probably livid. “Okay, thanks. If you see anyone hanging around that shouldn’t be here, will you let me know?”
“Sure. Did something happen?”
Delaney shoved the note into her coat pocket. “No, not really.”
The old Grange hall had been decorated with bales of hay, orange and black crepe paper, and cauldrons filled with dried ice. A bartender from Mort’s poured beer or cola at one end, and a country and western band played at the other. The ages of those gathered at the Halloween party ranged from teens who were too old to trick-or-treat to Wannetta Van Damme, who was tying one on with the two remaining World War vets.
By the time Delaney arrived, the band was well into its first set. She’d dressed in a black satin skirt, matching bustier, and black lace garters. The matching satin blazer she left at home. Her black stilettos had five-inch heels, and she’d spent twenty minutes making sure the lines on her stockings ran straight up the backs of her legs. Her boa was draped around her neck and the handcuffs were tucked in the waistband of her skirt. Except for her teased hair and thick mascara, most of her efforts were concealed by her wool coat.
She wanted nothing more than to go back home and fall head first into a coma. She’d thought of not coming at all. She was sure the note had come from Helen and was bugged by it more than she liked to admit. Sure, she’d stalked Helen a little bit. She’d hidden in her Dumpster and scoured her garbage, but that was different. She hadn’t left psychotic notes. If Delaney hadn’t told Steve she’d meet him, she’d be curled up right now in her favorite flannel nightgown, after a warm bath filled with fragrant bubbles.
Delaney reached for the buttons on her coat as her gaze scanned the crowd dressed in a wide variety of interesting costumes. She spied Steve dancing with a hippie chick who looked to be about twenty. They looked good together. She knew Steve saw women besides her and wasn’t bothered by it. He was a nice diversion sometimes when she needed to get out of her apartment. He was a nice guy, too.
She decided to keep her coat on as she made her way into the crowd. She squeezed by two cone-heads and a mermaid and almost ran smack into a Star Trek character covered in makeup with a slight yellow tinge.
“Hey, Delaney,” he said above the sound of county music. “I heard you moved back.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar and he obviously knew her. She hadn’t a clue. His hair was slicked back with black spray-in color, and he wore a red and black uniform with a symbol that looked like an A on his chest. She’d never watched Star Trek and frankly didn’t understand the attraction. “Uh, yeah. I moved back in June.”
“Wes said that was you when you walked in.”
Delaney stared into eyes so light they hardly were blue at all. “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Scooter!” There was only one thing scarier than a Finley. A Finley dressed up as a Trekkie.
“Yeah, it’s me. Long time no see.” Scooter’s makeup was cracking on his forehead, and his choice in face color picked up the yellow in his teeth. “You’re lookin‘ good,” he continued, his head nodding like one of those wooden Chinese dolls with the spring necks.
Delaney glanced around the area for someone to rescue her. “Yeah, you too Scooter,” she lied. She didn’t see anyone she recognized and her gaze rested on him once again. “What have you been up to?” she asked, making simple conversation until she could make her escape.
“Me and Wes own a fish farm over in Garden. We bought it from Wes’s old girlfriend after she ran off with a long-haul trucker. We’re going to make a fortune selling catfish.”
Delaney could only stare. “You have a fish farm?”
“Heck yeah. Where do you think all that fresh catfish comes from?”
What fresh catfish? Delaney didn’t recall seeing a lot of catfish at any meat counter in town. “Is there a big demand for that around here?”
“Not yet, but Wes and me figure that with E. coli and that chicken flu, people will start eating butt-loads of fish.” He raised a red Solo cup and took a long pull. “Are you married?”
Usually she hated that question, but she couldn’t get over the obvious fact that Scooter was an even bigger moron than she remembered. “Ah, no. Are you?”
“Divorced twice.”
“Go figure,” she said as she shook her head and shrugged. “See ya around, Scooter.” She moved past him but he followed.
“Wanna beer?”
“No, I’m meeting someone here.”
“Bring her along.”
“It’s not a her.”
“Oh.” He hung back and called after her. “See ya around, Delaney. Maybe I’ll call you sometime.”
His threat might have scared her if she’d been listed in the telephone book. She wove her way through a group dressed as punkers, to the edge of the dance floor. Abraham Lincoln asked her to dance, but she declined. Her head was beginning to pound and she wanted to go home, but she figured she owed it to Steve to tell him she was leaving. She spied him with Cleopatra this time, playing air guitar to Wynonna Judd’s “No One Else on Earth.”
Her eyes scrunched and she glanced away from Steve. He could be so extremely embarrassing sometimes. Her gaze stopped on a familiar couple dressed as a fifties tough and his girlfriend in a poodle skirt. From the perimeter of dancing couples, Delaney watched Louie swing Lisa behind his back then around front again. He pulled her against his chest and dipped her so low her ponytail brushed the ground. Delaney smiled and her gaze moved to the couple closest to Lisa and Louie. There was no mistaking the tall man spinning his niece like a top. As far as Delaney could tell, Nick’s only concession to the holiday was his txapel, his Basque beret. He wore jeans and a tan chambray shirt. Even without a costume, he managed to look like a two-stepping pirate, with that black beret pulled partway down his forehead.
For the first time since she’d moved away, Delaney seriously longed to be a part of a family again. Not a superficial controlling family like hers, but a real family. A family that laughed and danced and loved one another without conditions.
Delaney turned away and ran into Elvis. “Excuse me,” she said and looked up into Tommy Markham’s face complete with fake sideburns.
Tommy glanced from her to the woman at his side. Helen was still dressed as Lady Godiva, still had the crown on her head.
“Hello, Delaney,” she greeted her, a smug smile on her face as if she were superior. It was the same “kiss my ass” smile she’d been giving Delaney since the first grade.
Delaney was too tired to pretend a civility she didn’t feel. Her head pounded, fueled by Helen’s stupid smile. “How did you like my parade entry?”
Helen’s smile fell. “Pathetic, but predictable.”
“Not as pathetic as your mangy wig and cheap crown.” The music stopped as she stepped forward and shoved her face in Helen’s. “And if you ever leave me another threatening note, I’ll shove it up your nose.”
&nb
sp; Helen’s brows lowered and she blinked. “You’re mental. I never left you any note.”
“Notes.” Delaney didn’t believe her for one second. “There were two.”
“I don’t think Helen would-”
“Shut up, Tommy,” Delaney interrupted without taking her gaze from her old enemy. “Your stupid notes don’t scare me, Helen. I’m more annoyed than anything else.” She gave one last warning before she walked away, “Stay away from me and anything that belongs to me.” Then she turned and pressed her way through the crowd, dodging and weaving, her head pounding. What if it wasn’t Helen? Impossible. Helen hated her.
She made it as far as the door before Steve caught up with her.
“Where are you going?” he asked, matching his stride to hers.
“Home. I have a headache.”
“Can’t you stay for just a little while?”
“No.”
They walked into the parking lot and stopped by Delaney’s car. “We haven’t danced yet.”
At the moment the mere thought of dancing with a man who played the front of his pants was just too disturbing for her to handle. “I don’t want to dance. I’ve had a long day and I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Want some company?”
Delaney looked into his cute surfer-boy face and chuckled silently. “Nice try.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but her hand on his chest stopped him.
“Okay.” He laughed. “Maybe next time.”
“Good night, Steve,” she said and got into her car. On the way home, Delaney stopped at the Value Rite and bought a king-sized Reese’s, a bottle of Coke, and some vanilla-scented bubble bath. Even after a hot soak, she could be in bed by ten.
I never left you any note. Helen had to be lying. Of course she wouldn’t admit to writing the notes. Not in front of Tommy.
What if she wasn’t lying? For the first time, real fear settled like a bubble in her chest, but she tried to ignore it. Delaney didn’t want to think that the author of the note could be anyone other than her old enemy. Someone she didn’t know.
Truly Madly Yours Page 20
