This article was going to be so good, Evelynne was going to want to give me her job.
“If you ever get back to writing the stupid article, that is,” I mumbled.
****
Under the quilts, I tossed and turned, unable to settle in and get to sleep. I was hot. I was cold. I was alone. Last night, I had slept like a baby, wrapped in Dale’s embrace, breathing in his scent. Now all I had was the bleachy smell of the sheets beneath me and the sound of my own pulse in my ears.
I whipped the covers off, swung my feet over the side of the bed, and woke my computer.
“If I can’t sleep, neither can you.” After hoping online, I opened my work email and clapped when messages from Meg appeared.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Meg.” I clicked on the first one.
mpetrisi:
Glad you’re taking my advice to enjoy The Musher. I never lead you wrong, do I? Wink, wink.
“You always lead me to the interesting. That much I’ll give you.” I clicked on the second message.
mpetrisi:
Met Matt’s parents tonight. Yikes! Don’t think they knew how to take me. But who does? Besides you.
I pictured what Meg wore to meet Matt’s parents. No doubt something that included thigh-high boots and a short skirt. Though Meg was a sweetheart, her outward appearance suggested anything but that. It got her in trouble most of the time, but that’s the part she enjoyed.
The third message had me gasping in laughter in the darkness of my hotel room.
mpetrisi:
Have your nipples frozen off yet?
Leave it to Meg to be concerned about my nipples. My fingers flew over the keyboard to compose a response. No writer’s block here.
acormac:
Happy to report that my nipples are still intact.
I’m sure Matt’s parents loved you. How could they not? You’re the Great Meg Petrisi. The one and only. (Thank the Goddess!)
An update: Went mushing today. What a rush! Who knew riding on a sled pulled by a pack of dogs could be so erotic? ☺ Dale is unbelievable. Hence the wonderful state of my nipples.
Am going to fly—yes, that’s right, fly—over Mount McKinley on Tuesday. Been invited to Mr. Iditarod’s awards dinner tomorrow night. Busy, busy, busy.
I hit send and was now feeling a bit sleepy. Finally. I shut down my computer and slid back into bed. Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, I sighed. 2:46 a.m. Still a lot of hours to fill before seeing Dale.
I mentally ticked off a list of things to do to fill the space between now and tomorrow night. Working on my article was at the top, along with shopping for something to wear to the dinner. That’s all I had. I pulled the covers over my head and shifted for what had to be the thousandth time.
“This is going to be a looong night.” I bit into my pillow to drown out the groan.
****
After a grueling morning of composing parts of my article, word by word, sometimes letter by letter, I left Moose Point in search of a small shopping mall in downtown Fairbanks. Aside from the one suit I’d brought for my interview with the governor, most of what I had with me was heavy-duty hiking clothing. Didn’t plan on having a date—correction, dates—while I was in Alaska. If I were to be Dale’s escort to this awards thing, I should fancy up. Of course fancying up in Fairbanks, Alaska, was probably different from fancying up in New York City.
I wandered into a small dress shop called Aurora Sparkle. No more than a hole in the wall, the store was home to an amazing ceiling painted with the colors of the northern lights. Glitter mixed with the paint and a spotlight shining upward made it all twinkle. I was so enchanted by the mural that I walked into one of the dress racks. Several hangers clattered to the ground, shedding their dresses in the process.
“Oops,” a cheerful voice called from the register. “Don’t worry, love. Happens all the time.”
“Sorry,” I apologized with burning cheeks. “I wasn’t paying attention. That ceiling is sensational.”
“Thanks.” A slender hand with hot pink nails reached in front of me to pick up the dresses. Neon-colored wooden bracelets rattled on her forearm—her completely tattooed forearm. That serial killer wolf tattoo flashed into my mind as I helped clean up the mess I’d made and took in the rest of this chick.
Not much bigger than me in height or weight, she had long, straight, purple hair. Yes, purple. Freckled, pale skin gave her a pixie look, as did the pink tunic-style dress she wore over polka-dotted tights with pointed, calf-high boots. I expected a unicorn to gallop from the back room and sweep her away. No way she could strangle anybody.
“I’m Violet Benolt.” She extended a hand to me.
“Alanna Cormac.” I shook her hand as I put the rest of the dresses back on the rack. Looking up again at the ceiling, I asked, “Did you paint that?”
“Uh-huh. Can’t resist a blank wall.”
“It’s lovely.”
“Have you seen the real thing yet?”
“No.”
“I find it’s best viewed after a romantic interlude with a handsome man.” Violet elbowed me with the boniest elbow I’d ever encountered. “Know any handsome men?”
“Actually…” A flash of heat washed over my entire body.
“Uh-oh. That dopey grin says it all.” Violet raised her eyebrows over two sky blue eyes and put her fingers to her lips. “Out with it. Who is it?”
“Well…” What was I doing? Another person I had met in Alaska to whom I was ready to unload all my personal information. What the hell was up with this place?
“Look,” Violet said, while I mentally battled myself, “I know you’re not from around here. That fancy purse and your rapid walk tell me that much. You’ve probably been emailing your best friend back home, but are in desperate need of a real, live female to whom you can gush about this handsome man. I’m it. Pick me!”
Violet angled her two delicate hands toward herself and then threw her arms wide. “C’mon. What’d ya got to lose, love?”
I shrugged. “You’ve got me all figured out already.”
“It’s a gift of mine.” Violet hopped onto the counter at the register, her boots dangling. “Who is he, and exactly how hot is he?”
Her excitement was contagious and enchanting. Violet put me at ease. She was so right about me dying to talk about Dale to another live female.
“His name is Dale Ram—”
“Ramsden?” Violet’s feet stopped their rhythmic swish back and forth. Her fingers coiled around the edge of the counter top. “Your handsome man is Dale Ramsden, Junior? The Iditarod winner?”
I nodded, enjoying every moment of Violet’s surprise.
“Holy shit, Alanna!” She smacked the palms of her hands on the counter, making me jump out of my skin. “You don’t waste any time, do ya? March into Alaska and stake claim on one of our finest. Dale doesn’t even date. You must be magic or something.” She pointed a finger at me. “Where are you from anyway?”
“New York.”
“Ah, I see. That’s the way things are done over in New York, I’ll bet. See something you like and go ahead and get it, huh?” Violet’s cobalt eyes were wide. “I’ve never been to New York, but I’ll get there someday. I’d bet an artist like me would have a blast there.”
I looked at the ceiling again and through the rest of the artfully designed shop. “New York would absolutely love you.”
Violet beamed and jumped down from the counter. She flung her arms around my neck and squeezed. I backed up, caught off-guard by her unexpected gesture. Hangers rattled behind me as I hit another rack. At my grumble, Violet released me.
“Sorry.” She interlaced her fingers as if to keep them steady. “I often don’t respect people’s boundaries. Forgive me?”
“Sure, Violet. I’ll forgive you if you help me find something that will totally hypnotize Dale. He asked me to accompany him to an awards dinner.”
“Oh, I’ll be there too.” Violet clapped her
hands together. “My boyfriend is Dale’s best friend. He’s taking me to the dinner.”
“Great. I like knowing there’ll be another familiar face there.”
“Hard to forget this.” Violet framed her face with her hands. “I like to stand out, but in a good way, you know?”
“Actually, no, I wouldn’t know. I usually do my best to be invisible. Right now I’m looking for something to wear that officially announces the end of my Reign of Invisibility.”
“You’re in luck, love. That’s what I make here.” She fanned her arm out in a wide arc, indicating all the clothing in the shop.
“Wait. A. Minute. Tell me you didn’t make all of this.”
Violet stood, a satisfied tilt to her head.
“Wow, Violet. Impressive.” I fingered the fabric on the nearest dress. “This stuff is one-of-a-kind.”
“That’s what my boyfriend, Vince, says about me. ‘Vi, you’re one-of-a-kind’, he says.”
Violet rolled her eyes, but she was obviously delighted to have people think she was original. She stepped back and looked me over from head to toe.
“Okay, let’s see. About 5’6”, 115 pounds, size 4.” She drummed her fingers on her bottom lip as she narrowed her eyes at me.
I nodded.
“Ram’s Den isn’t exactly fine dining, but I heard Ram is going all out for Dale.”
I warmed at the thought of Ram wanting to celebrate his son’s accomplishment. My dad had been that way with me. Always bursting with pride. Always supportive.
“I know, huh?” Violet’s voice cut into my thoughts.
“What?”
“Ram. He rocks, doesn’t he? That’s what you were thinking, isn’t it? He’s got a way of making you feel totally welcome.”
“He seems to have passed that talent down to his son.” I arched one eyebrow at Violet.
“Oh, really?” She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t get mad at me, but Dale is a feast for the eyes.”
“He’s delicious.”
Violet let out an impish giggle. “I’m glad you are sampling all Alaska has to offer. How long are you here?”
“That’s the trouble.” I let out a long breath. “I only have until next Friday. Not sure how I’m supposed to go back home afterwards.”
“Maybe you are home,” Violet said quietly.
“No. New York is definitely home. I…I don’t belong here.”
A heartbeat of silence hung between us, as if Violet was waiting for me to think more about the notion. I shook my head, and she patted my hand.
“Let’s see about an outfit, shall we?”
She fluttered off, stopping in at various racks like a bee gathering pollen from flowers. Every once and a while, she looked over her shoulder at me, mumbling something to herself before skipping off to another rack. By the time she came to stand in front of me again, her arms were loaded with every color of the rainbow.
“This ought to get you started,” she said, holding the mound. “C’mon. Dressing rooms are this way.”
After about an hour of trying and retrying on outfits, Violet had talked me into a pair of dark blue jeans that fit like a second skin, flaring out at the ankles. A snug black sweater with a deep V-neck and wide sleeve cuffs made me somehow appear to have a more impressive chest than I actually did. Always a plus when you’re trying to seduce. A necklace of black beads from which hung a blue crescent moon charm adorned my throat with a pair of matching moon earrings.
“That ought to do it.” Violet looked me over with approval. “If Dale doesn’t want to unwrap you and have his way with you, then I’ve lost my touch.”
Turning in a circle in front of the three-way mirror, I gave Violet’s reflection two thumbs up.
“I love this outfit.”
“Another happy customer,” Violet announced to the empty store. Her shoulders slumped. “This time of year is hard for the small businesswoman. Things pick up in the summer months.”
“You must need time to resupply and make new stuff.” I changed back into my other clothes.
“Yeah, but I thought I’d have hired folks to work the store by now while I made new pieces. It doesn’t seem to be working out that way though.” Violet looked to her pointed boots. “I’ll bet it works that way in New York.” Her eyes brightened.
“There are tons of people in New York.” I looked around the store as I slipped back into my heavy jacket. “It’s never this quiet. Ever.”
“Maybe someday, I’ll pack up this whole shop and move to New York.” Violet nodded as if she had made a decision and walked around to the other side of the register. “Until then, I’ll have to be content that you are probably my only customer for today.”
“If you ever do move to New York,” I said, fishing around in my purse and extracting one of my cards, “look me up. I know a couple of people who would love the clothes you make.” I thought of Meg. She’d want one of everything Violet had.
Violet took the card and held it with two hands as if it were something valuable. “Thanks, love.” She flashed me a cheery smile as she put the card by the register and folded my purchases.
“So what’s Vince like?” I asked while Violet rang up the items.
“He’s hot,” she started. “Not hot like Dale. A different hot. He’s got jet black hair that stands up in spikes and blue eyes that make me forget who and where I am sometimes.” She giggled as she placed my merchandise in a bag and took my credit card.
“He’s got tattoos too, only on both arms,” she continued, shooting a quick glimpse to her own arm. “He did these, and I did the ones on his left arm.”
I took a closer look at her arm. Three fairies with pale blue wings fluttered around a jade-colored dragon that spiraled from her wrist to under the short sleeve of her dress. “That’s beautiful work,” I said, admiring the clean lines, the vibrant colors, the details.
“Thanks. Vince has got an eye for beautiful things.” She flicked a hand toward herself, causing me to laugh. “You got any tattoos?”
“Uh, no.” I had always liked the look of them, but didn’t have the guts to get one.
“If you want one while you’re here, you let me or Vince know.” Violet returned my credit card and, after I signed my name, she took my hand in hers, pushed up my jacket sleeve, and examined my forearm. “You’ve got a nice canvas here. Be a shame to waste it. Tattoos are meant to add beauty.”
She paused for a moment as she turned my hand around, still looking at my arm. “I get sick when I hear about those women that have been killed recently. It’s not enough some bastard has strangled them, but he’s giving tattooing a bad name on top of it. Branding his kills. It’s disgusting.”
She released my hand, and I stared at my pale, exposed skin. I pulled my sleeve down to hide the goose bumps, but it was too late. Violet had already seen them.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” she said. “That we have to be afraid. Vince makes me tell him where I’m going, and he’s told me a million times not to hug random people.” She blushed slightly. “You can see how well that’s going, but I can’t help it. I’m not going to let a whacko keep me from handing out hugs. Besides, I get vibes from people. I think I’d know if someone were a killer.” She shrugged. “What about you? You checking in with Dale?”
“It hadn’t occurred to me to do that.” Okay, it had, but I didn’t have to admit that to her. “Must be the New Yorker in me. If I checked in with somebody every time I heard a news story about a murder, I’d be making calls all day.” All true, so why was I fearful of this killer in Alaska? I’d certainly lived closer to crime more brutal than strangling.
“Maybe you’re just not used to having someone to check in with?” Violet’s blue eyes studied my face.
“Maybe,” I said, gathering my bag. “Thanks for your help, Violet. I’ll see you tonight?”
“You bet. I’ll look for you.”
“Wherever Ram’s chicken wings are, that’s where I’ll be.” I headed for the door. Violet walk
ed around the counter and followed me.
“Wherever Dale is standing is where you’ll be.” She gave me a teasing poke in the arm.
“Can you blame a girl?”
“Nope. When I watched the Iditarod coverage on TV, I said to Vince that Dale was going to win. Vince thought so too. They’ve been friends since they were little. Vince says Dale doesn’t give up on anything.” Violet held my gaze a few seconds longer than was necessary.
“See you later.” I opened the door and stepped out into the street.
“Later.” Violet snapped the door closed against the cold slap of wind. She waved from the windowed door, the late afternoon sun glinting off her purple hair.
I was surprised at the time when I got into my Explorer. Four o’clock. Time enough to shower, obsess over my hair, fuss over my makeup, and hop into my new clothes. The day had progressed more quickly than I’d anticipated, but I owed that to Violet. She had made shopping fun and painless. I couldn’t wait to see Dale’s reaction. Couldn’t wait to have his hands, his lips, his everything on me.
I craved him and that should have bothered me. Why didn’t it?
Chapter Sixteen
By the time I arrived in the parking lot of Ram’s Den, the place was hopping. Cars littered the lot, and people streamed in from all directions. I hadn’t seen that many people all in one location in Fairbanks yet. A little like The Hive in New York only less skin was visible due to the cold and probably an Alaskan sense of decorum.
Shouldering my purse, I walked up the front steps. A huge sign posted above the carved ram’s head on the door greeted me.
Fairbanks Celebrates Its Own Dale Ramsden, Junior, Iditarod Winner
I traced a finger over Dale’s name and his work on the ram carving. My pulse quickened at the thought of him waiting inside. Another couple walked past me to open the front doors. Music and talking gushed out.
How was I going to find him in there? My hands grew clammy in my gloves, and I fiddled with the straps on my purse. I’d grown rather used to walking into crowded places with Meg and then fading into the background somewhere. This flying solo business was hard, but another glance to Dale’s name on the sign had me pulling open the door to be with him.
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