Messalina: Devourer of Men

by Zetta Brown

  “Oh. No. No, I don’t.”

  “Well,” I say through gritted teeth, “let’s find her and give her our regards, shall we?”

  He strokes my arm. “Relax, Evie.”

  I grimace. The last time Jared told me that, I got fucked up the ass. Literally.

  A waiter comes by with a tray of champagne and I take a glass. I don’t bother to ask Jared if he wants one and the undulating crowd pushes us farther into the room.

  “Jared!”

  We both look around, trying to discern in which direction the voice came from, and I flinch when a hand suddenly clamps down on my shoulder. It’s hard, rough, and masculine, and I feel it through my dress. I turn to see the hand is attached to a tall, barrel-chested man in dark jeans and a dark plaid shirt. A black cowboy hat sits atop his head, covering most of his dark brown hair.

  “I thought that was you. Sorry to barge in, little lady, but I had to say howdy to the man.”

  Little lady? Say howdy to the man? Who is this asshole? Jared, as if reading my mind, answers.

  “Honey, I’d like you to meet Charles Arlen. Chas, this is my girlfriend, Evadne Cavell.”

  “Howdy, ma’am,” he says, tugging at the brim of his hat and flashing me a charming smile. On any other occasion I would’ve responded in kind, but right now the best I can do is pull my lips back and expose my teeth in an artificial grin.

  “Chas and I were roommates one summer at UT-Austin.”

  “It’s a pleasure, ma’am. As usual, Jared, you picked yourself a good one.” His eyes give me an inspection like I’m some prized heifer. He turns back to Jared.

  “Say, man. I need your advice on some art purchases I plan to make next week in California.” Chas puts his arm around me. I don’t believe this guy!

  Seeing my reaction, Jared speaks. “Chas owns a sheep ranch in Central Texas.”

  “Yet, unlike many others, Miss Cavell, I try to expose myself to more than sheep.” He gives me a squeeze and I admit, for a split second, his unfortunate choice of words makes me smile.

  “You must love your work.”

  Jared chokes on his champagne but Chas grins. “Are you interested in ranching, Miss Cavell? You should come during the lambing season. I’ll hook you up with some of the best lamb chops in the hemisphere.” He squeezes me again.

  I reach for another glass of champagne and the action causes him to lose his grip on me, but he doesn’t mind; he’s already talking to Jared about something else. I take the opportunity to wander off, ostensibly looking for Talley, but really for a place to hide. Maybe if I see her, I can talk to her for a minute and then steal off to the ladies’ room until Jared is ready to leave.

  All the people, all the voices . . . I’m getting sick from all the money in the room. The jewelry some of the women wear could pay my rent for a year. And here I am thinking writers are poor.

  I’ve been to book signings and book launches before, but when I pick up a flyer off one of the tables with convention promos, I pick up a high-gloss press release featuring the Jigsaw cover. This evening is a double celebration, because this is Talley’s first book under her new contract with Tony Lobos and Carnie DeLuna’s Howling Moon Publishing located in Arvada.

  I didn’t even know they were courting her! This is her seventh book and rumors are coming from Hollywood. This is a coup considering Tony and Carnie just branched out into book production two years ago.

  I swear if Tony doesn’t have his finger in everything. Talley too? Nah. That’s not Tony’s style. But between his charm and Talley’s personality, there’s no excuse for them not to hit it off—as far as business is concerned, anyway.

  So this means Tony is lurking around here somewhere. Maybe he can help me beat a graceful retreat.

  More people come in and more cameras flash from various places in the room. The Ulterior Motive is a specialty bookstore in town and a Mecca for mystery lovers throughout the West, not to mention a major rival of my dad’s. Five years ago, the owners decided to host a mystery convention and it has grown to warrant the space and the glitz of The Brown Palace Hotel. This is the last night of the convention and the social event of the month—or at least the week. I get a plate of cheese and meat from another passing waiter and grab my third flute of champagne from yet another.

  Jared is going to pay for this. Big time.

  “There you are.”

  Speaking of the devil, Jared comes into view and steals a cube of cheese from my plate. He looks at me anxiously. “Babe, I know you’re upset with me and I’ll make it up to you.”

  I purse my lips together, unimpressed.

  “Honey,” he says, “I’m trying to find her as fast as I can.”

  “Really? Where’s your friend?”

  Jared snorts and studies my plate for another tidbit.

  “He went to scam on the other side of the room. I swear, I could barely stand the man when I roomed with him, and that was nearly twenty years ago.” He chuckles. “I didn’t know he could read so I’m surprised he’s here.” He looks at me to see my bland expression, then puts his hands on my hips and pulls me close. I have to open my arms to keep from spilling the contents of my drink and plate on him. He nuzzles against my cheek.

  “I don’t know why you’re so worried. You look fine.”

  “Jared, I don’t appreciate—”

  “Eva! Jared!”

  To hear my name coupled with Jared’s is a shock to me. At first, I thought it could be Talley, but realize it’s a man’s voice. I turn around and see Tony walking in our direction. And he has company.

  “Woman, I thought I recognized the back of your head.” Tony is all smiles as he plants a kiss on my mouth. “Where have you been hiding? The bedroom?” He winks at Jared.

  I give a short laugh. “Jared, you remember Tony Lobos, don’t you?”

  “Yes, nice to see you, again,” he says and shakes Tony’s hand.

  “Here, let me introduce the group.” Tony steps aside. “These are my friends. Ivor Wozniak, Allison Speed, and Jared, you know Sarah Radcliff.”

  I have to laugh to keep from screaming. Tony and I have this silly, long-running competition as to who can make the other embarrassed in public without law enforcement getting involved. Tony is really pushing it this time.

  “Jared,” Sarah says first. Her voice is clipped but cordial. She wears a white sheath dress that flatters her lithe physique, and her pale coloring brings out her wide, almond-shaped, sapphire-blue eyes. It’s those ice-blue eyes that run me up and down, freezing me to the spot. Her features are catlike—sleek, exotic, and expressive. Her pale blonde hair is either natural or a very good, very expensive dye job, and is piled on her head, held in place by seed pearl combs. She’s several inches shorter than me and much more delicate. She looks exquisite, like a doll of fine bisque porcelain. A fairy princess. No, definitely a Snow Queen.

  I glance up at Jared and you would’ve thought he had rigor mortis. He stands ramrod straight and barely moves his lips to speak.

  “Hello, Sarah.”

  “Is this your new girlfriend?” Her gaze on me intensifies.

  Oh. So now I’m a “this.”

  “Dr. Evadne Cavell, let me introduce Sarah Radcliff.”

  “Good evening, Sarah,” I say, oozing with warmth. “It’s nice to meet you at last.”

  I don’t get upset, like some people do, if someone doesn’t address me with my title in a social occasion. It depends on the crowd. But I notice how Jared made a point
to use it this time. When she looks at my plate, then at my torso, I believe my waist expands a few inches, the dimples on either side of my elbows become more prominent, and my cheeks plump with chipmunk fullness. Doctor or not, some things just don’t quite measure up.

  “Living large these days, Jared?”

  “Oh, yes, Sarah,” I reply for him. “No more slim pickings for him.”

  Tony, who has shifted to stand behind Sarah, gestures as if to say, Meow!

  “What is it that you do, Eeee . . . ?”

  “Evadne. I teach at Bellingham College. And you are?”

  Tony’s mouth falls open but I ignore him.

  “I’m an actress.”

  “Oh? Isn’t that nice. Is there much work for actresses in Denver?” That one hit home and Sarah’s delicate complexion reddens.

  “Yes, there is.”

  “That’s good. At least you’re not a starving artist.”

  “You would know something about starving?”

  “No.” I look her straight in the eye and let her know I am done being polite. “I prefer to digest my food.”

  “Jared!” Tony breaks in. “You and Eva have been too selfish with your company. Come join us for dinner.”

  I chuckle and look away. I love Tony but I am going to kill him after I’m finished with Jared, who takes this moment to put a possessive arm around my waist, possibly more for Sarah’s benefit than mine.

  “That’s mighty friendly of you, Tony, but we plan on having an early night.” He lowers his head to kiss my temple and, to my chagrin, it does provoke a twinge of excitement in me. He gives me a slight tickle under my ribs and I smile despite my anger. Tony grins knowingly along with Trevor and Allison. Sarah is not amused.

  “Well, you go, girl!” Tony gives me a playful shove on the shoulder. “Don’t let him keep you up all night.”

  “Tony,” I growl, but why? It’s in his nature to shock.

  “That’s my name! I’ll talk to you tomorrow, friend-girl. I’ll be sure to call when you’re awake—and at home.”

  “ Goodbye , Tony.”

  “Ta-ta, tootsie!” He can be camp when he wants to so he gives a little finger wave. His long, lean, elegant figure is soon leading his party away like a queen bee and her faithful swarm. Sarah, however, lingers for a moment.

  “By the way, Jared,” she says coming close to touch the arm he has around my waist. “If you happen to find my little cloisonné hair combs, I’d be grateful if you could return them.” She looks at me. “They were a birthday present,” she explains. “I left them behind the last time I was over.”

  I feel Jared stiffening behind my back—and not in a good way.

  “I’ll be sure to do a search,” he says.

  “High and low,” I add with a smile.

  Sarah gives me a nasty little glare and then floats away. I think Jared can feel my rage through my clothes because my temperature has shot up fifty degrees. I give one of the ubiquitous waiters my plate and glass.

  “Jared, you have two minutes to find Talley and then I’m outta here.”

  He doesn’t even try to argue. Taking me by the elbow, he maneuvers us through the crowd. We finally reach our goal and spot Talley. She’s appeared by her book display and stands out like a golden Amazon in a white, modified tuxedo sans jacket, but with a fitted, strapless shirt that shows off all her feminine attributes. Her hair is now completely platinum and slicked back in a chignon. She looks like a latter-day Marlene Dietrich—a queen in the realm of literary royalty.

  Standing around her are some prominent citizens like Mavis Taylor-Goode, a coal heiress, and Titian Petruz, who is president of a coalition of local gallery owners. There are others but I have no clue of their significance.

  “That’s Gunner King,” Jared informs and points to a tall, distinguished man standing next to Talley with silver-gray hair and a tan darker than my natural skin tone. “He owns Mountain Lakes Publishing. He published Talley’s first book and has been trying to get between her legs ever since.” Jared winks at me in an attempt to make me smile. It doesn’t work.

  “I’m surprised he’s here since she’s now with Tony’s company.”

  “A lot of publishers are here. This is great PR.”

  Talley looks up to see us and grins. “Jared! Eva, you made it!” She barges her way through her admirers and comes to us. She gives Jared a quick hug and is about to do the same to me when she notices my attire.

  “Hey, chèr, I know Denver is casual, but . . . ”

  That does it. I have been insulted enough for one night. It’s bad enough to be underdressed for a social outing, but to endure, not one, but two of your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriends? I don’t think so. Tears of frustration born of rage sting the back of my eyes and I shoot an arsenal of daggers at Jared. He clears his throat.

  “It’s my fault, Talley. I forgot to tell Eva and sprung this all on her at the very last minute.”

  Talley’s struck dumb and reads the expression on my face. “Oh, Jared, you didn’t.” She looks at me with all the sympathy in the world and gives me a warm hug. “You poor little thing.”

  I see more cameras flash and I just want to drop dead. Turning around, she blasts him.

  “Jared Alistair Delaney, didn’t your mama never tell you to give a woman enough time to dress for a function?”

  “No, Talley. She didn’t.”

  Even I know Talley made a mistake referring to his parentage, but she blows it off.

  “No matter. You know now,” she says and strokes my hair. “Come on, Little Eva, let me introduce you to the people.” She leads me away and Jared brings up the rear, but I know he’s pissed from the set of his mouth.

  Despite my wanting to do otherwise, Talley keeps us there for nearly an hour. I make pleasant conversation with the social elite, score some points for being an academic if not a fashion plate, and leave Jared to do his own mingling.

  I am wiped out. As I struggle to look interested as some blue-haired woman talks to me about varicose vein surgery, Jared comes to my side.

  “Ready to go?”

  I nod, then to the older woman, I say, “I’m sorry, but will you excuse me?”

  “Certainly, my dear.” She turns and picks up the conversation with Talley and another man as if I never existed.

  The crowd has thinned considerably and Jared takes my hand, quickly leading the way. When we get outside, it’s chilly from a light rain and I’m freezing in my sleeveless dress. Jared takes off his blazer and wraps it around my shoulders. I shiver, but when I inhale his Obsession cologne, it warms me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

  I just pull the blazer tighter around me and close my eyes, trembling from both the cold and pent-up emotions. The car finally arrives and Jared hurries me into it. After putting on the seat belt, I turn in my seat so my back is to him, my eyes still closed. He turns on the heater and I feel the car pull away.

  We ride back to his house in silence and when he parks the car, I don’t wait for him to open my door as he likes to do, but get out on my own and wait for him by the front door. Giving me a quick, worried glance, he puts the key in the lock.

  I go straight to his bedroom, toss his blazer on the bed, go to the wardrobe where I have a robe and nightshirt stored, and get in bed. Meanwhile, he stands inside the bedroom door watching me with a frown on his lips, like he has something to frown about!

  He
hasn’t been snubbed and insulted all evening.

  Chapter thirteen

  “Love Bizarre”

  News that I’m dating a man with a reputation has followed me to work.

  I try very hard to keep my private life separate from work, especially when I was going to the theater, and apart from Glynnis, no one knew about Jared.

  That is until the Sunday edition of The Rocky Mountain News prints a photo from the Ulterior Motive Convention with the caption:

  Artist Jared Delaney and friend Evadne Cavell smile at a private joke with businessman and arts patron Tony Lobos.

  This reminds me of my need to kill Tony.

  He knows everyone associated with the local press. I don’t usually pay attention to the entertainment or business news. I guess I have to now.

  The snapshot caught the moment Jared tickled me. I admit, I do look good and smiling makes me look cute and bubbly in a pinup-girl sort of way. Jared is roguishly handsome with his head tilted and his hair falling over his right eye. Whoever took it must’ve used a long lens, because it’s close up and I don’t remember being blinded by the flash. But the fact that someone captured what was, in reality, a very awkward situation and preserved it on film means the snapshot permanently records a bittersweet memory. It didn’t make the rest of my weekend with Jared go any better, either. In the end, I accepted his apologies and promises not to spring surprises on me in the future.

  When I came into my office today, I found the page, the photo, and even the whole paper left on my desk. Some caring individual even put it up on the refrigerator in the faculty lounge.

  “Our little celebrity,” Glynnis teases when she sees me. “Does Jared have a brother? Older, younger, it doesn’t matter.”

  Sitting at my desk having lunch, I have lots on my mind. The scandal concerning my former colleague, Professor Terrance Hyde, has reached new levels.

  The student he got pregnant is suing him and the college. Meanwhile, Hyde is suing the college for breach of contract or some other kind of bullshit. This nonsense has been cooking for months on a low boil, but now the big cheese himself, Dean J. Paul Mathis, has just informed me that I might have to make a statement. Apparently, I am on both the college’s and Hyde’s list of possible character witnesses.