Ho, now he'd suggest we stop at some motel or tell me that his car seats reclined!

"Okay," he said with a sigh. "I just thought I'd give you a chance to change your mind." He started the engine again and off we went to the Hotel Croft.

Oswald found a parking space near the hotel. I got out of the car and started to walk to the Croft, when he took hold of my shoulder. "A few ground rules," he said as gloomily as if he was telling me I had inoperable ugliness. "We use the side entrance because we don't need the staff to notice us. You go straight to the party, and you'll meet me in the bar in exactly an hour. Any problems, you meet me by the car. Got it?"

"An hour? An hour's not enough time to have fun. Three hours." We bickered and settled on one hour and forty-seven minutes.

He steered me to the side entrance of the hotel and said, "Be careful, Milagro. And have fun."

"That is my intention." I took off my sweater and handed it to him. "Take care of this for me, would you?"

Oswald stared at me from head to foot, but mostly lingered on those regions that were neither my head nor my feet. He asked, "That's what you're wearing?"

"It's puce. The theme of the party is puce. What's wrong with it?"

"It's not what's wrong with it that's the problem," Oswald said as he took my sweater.

I looked critically at Oswald's outfit. "Why were you wearing that old suit at Kathleen's party?" I asked.

"Sometimes I like to wear my grandfather's old clothes."

"Well, sometimes I like to wear puce," I lied, and then headed for the elevators. Once out of Oswald's sight, I couldn't help grinning with delight at seeing my pal again.

Nancy had given me a room number on the third floor. I assumed it was for a small suite where her other friends and I would exchange clever banter and swill champagne while Nancy flitted around the room. What I did not expect was a reception room with a huge crowd of tipsy, mostly blond young women dressed in pink and shouting over a five-piece combo playing popular love songs.

I plunged into the crowd and saw a few vaguely familiar F.U. faces and a lot of strangers. I recognized one of Nancy's sorority pals and was about to say hello when she thrust an empty glass toward me. "Get me a refill," she ordered.

"What?"

She peered through a wave of honey-colored hair and laughed. "Oh, it's you. I thought you were a cocktail waitress in that dress." The girls nearby, in delicate blush ensembles, snickered. "Didn't Nancy tell you to wear puce?"

I could feel the heat rise in my face. "This is puce. Where's Nancy?"

The girl pointed across the room and I forged into the crowd. I found her standing shoeless on top of a chair, singing "Get Me to the Church on Time." Nancy looked like a grownup version of the cutest kid in kindergarten. She had sandy curls, rosy cheeks, a saucy turned-up nose, twinkly blue eyes, and a petite body. She was wearing a filmy little pink slip dress held up with tiny straps.

I took her hand and pulled her off the chair.

"Silly Milly!" she cried, and gave me a hug. "I thought you didn't love me anymore."

"Nancy, you know that I love you madly. I thought this was a bridesmaids' party, and why is everyone wearing pink?"

She either flashed the peace sign at a waiter or signaled to him to bring two glasses of bubbly. "My mother always says it's just as easy to entertain ninety as nine and I told you it was puce. The whole thing is puce."

"I looked it up in the dictionary, Nance. Puce means purple-red and flea-colored."

We both said, "Eewh," and the waiter brought us drinks. We toasted to her engagement and she said, "So how's that cute guy coming along? Oh, I mean your writing."

"My writing is swell. I'm so totally in the zone it's like I'm channeling the zombie dialogue. The guy didn't work out," I said grimly. "Nance, why do you think I always end up with the beach reads, instead of a work of literature-guywise."

"That's easy. Literature got you through those years with your mother Regina. But now you need balance, and that's what the beach reads have been for. It's all Chang and Lee."

"Chang and Lee were Siamese twins. You mean yin and yang. So do you think I'm destined for a life of beach reads?"

"Mil, why do I have to do all the hard critical thinking? It makes my head hurt. You just need to find a guy who's fun and serious, too. Like that guy in that book you like."

"Which guy in which book?"

"All of them," she answered. "Speaking of guys, you'll never guess what's up with Sebastian."

"Don't tell me he's still calling you!"

"Not me, but Todd's been talking to him. Did you know B-W and Tessie are a thing again? Do you like her ring better than mine?" Nancy waggled her left hand at me and I was momentarily blinded by some huge glittery thing attached to her finger.

"How would I know?"

Nancy shrugged a bare shoulder. "She's coming over here. Just sneak a glance at her hand."I turned and saw Tessie making her way through a conga line of dancers and heading straight in my direction. I knew Tessie was pretty because everyone else said so. She had small features and monochromatic coloring: brown hair, hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin. She had never been my friend, but she'd tolerated me as Sebastian's little pal. Funny, she didn't look so tolerant anymore.

"Nancy, I've got to run. Fabulous soiree." I kissed her cheek and moved through the crowd toward the door. I heard someone calling, "Wait, wait!" but I kept going.

Chapter Nineteen

the tingling sensation means it's working

Unfortunately a girl dressed in puce is easy to spot in a sea of pink. Once out the door, I raced down the hall. I found a stairwell and hurried down, but Tessie proved to be surprisingly swift in her tasteful sling-back shoes. I finally managed to ditch her by darting into the basement, hiding in the parking garage, and then taking the elevator back to the lobby. I paused to catch my breath before I went into the bar.

Oswald was a picture of elegance, relaxing in a leather chair, listening to the pianist. At a nearby table, women in business suits cast hungry looks in Oswald's direction.

As I drew near, Oswald said, "Has it been an hour and forty-seven minutes already?"

I slipped into the chair across from his and took a sip of his Scotch. "I've decided that it's better to be safe than sorry. A stitch in time saves nine. Get going while the going's good."

He was instantly alert. "What happened?"

Editing always improved a story, so I said, "I spotted a girl who dates Sebastian and left immediately."

"Did she see-oh, why the hell am I even asking?" Oswald took out his wallet and put money on the table. "Let's go." He handed me my sweater and then grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. The businesswomen glared at me with envy; obviously Oswald couldn't wait to get me to his room.

"Side exit," he said brusquely.

"I'm sure she didn't see me and won't say anything even if she did somehow find out..." I was saying as I trotted along with Oswald. We turned into a hall that led to the side exit. Sebastian and Tessie were facing each other and I heard her say, "Sebastian, you'd better be telling me the truth."

I would have loved to listen further. Even more, I would have loved to take off my shoe and beat Sebastian to a pulp. I think Oswald sensed my forward momentum because I was suddenly yanked sideways into a closet. I was tightly wedged between Oswald and a linen hamper. Oswald eased the door shut and we stood face-to-face in the pine cleanser-scented darkness.

Tessie's muffled voice became clearer as she and Sebastian came down the hall. Their footsteps stopped directly in front of the closet. My heart raced and I expected Sebastian to fling open the door. Instead I heard Tessie say, "Where is she? Where did you hide that slut?"

Oswald and I were so close that his chin rested on my head and I felt the rise and fall of his chest.

Previous "Tessie, I swear to you that I haven't seen her and I don't want to see her. Besides, I didn't even know it was Nancys party.

You just told me it was a pink tea."

"Puce," Tess said with a sniff.

"Puce is a purple-red color," Sebastian corrected.

"It's just too coincidental. And how do I ever trust you again after what happened in college?" There was a sob in her voice. "I can't believe I was so stupid that I didn't realize what you were doing at first when you wanted me to wear that black wig and trashy lingerie. You were having sex with me, but fantasizing about Milagro De Los Santos!"

Oswald's body shuddered and I realized he was stifling a laugh. In order to assist his stifling, I kicked his shin.

"Tessie, let's not get sidetracked by the past," Sebastian said soothingly. "Let's be logical. You might have expected her to show up at Nancy's party. They are friends."

Tessie's crying subsided. "Maybe you're right, Sebastian. It's just that when I saw her, all that old stuff came up again. Tell me that you love me."

"I love you, Tessie. You are my favorite girl," Sebastian said, and the phrase was like a knife in my heart. "Why don't you freshen up and go back to the party? I'll come get you in a few hours."

"Okay."

Footsteps padded off and I thought the coast was clear. I was reaching for the doorknob when Oswald pushed my arm down to my side. Then I heard Sebastian's voice again.

"Peters, I've got a situation here at the Croft. De Los Santos has been spotted again. I want a team here within fifteen minutes and this time don't let that bitch get away." Then there was silence.

This was the perfect opportunity to jump out and clobber Sebastian. I felt around in the darkness, searching for something heavy and hard. My hand fumbled over a stack of toilet-paper rolls before discovering a broom handle. Before I could act, though, Oswald wound one arm tightly around me and covered my mouth with his hand.

Instinctively, I bit down, feeling the flesh between my teeth and hearing his sharp intake of breath. His body was pressed against me, and we both knew that if I bit harder, I would break the skin, taste his blood again. He nuzzled my ear and whispered softly, "Please, Milagro," and I didn't know if he meant please do or please don't or please don't stop.

My chance to commit felonious assault on Sebastian was slipping away because I was overwhelmed by the contact with Oswald, the feel of his flesh between my teeth, his body warm against mine, and my depraved desire to taste his blood once again. I thought, just one more second and one more and one more and I will push this vampire away and then attack Sebastian Beckett-Witherspoon, but the seconds kept passing.

Oswald finally released me. I shoved him as forcefully as I could in the confined space. "Don't ever grab at me again, Oswald,"

I hissed.

He slowly opened the closet door and peered out. "I had to keep you quiet. You were about to kill Beckett-Witherspoon."

"What if I was?"

"This is not the place or time, Milagro. Please let's get you out of here and somewhere safe."

I would never be safe as long as Oswald was nearby, but it was better to leave before Sebastian's troops arrived. Storming past Oswald, I went down the hall and out of the Croft into the chilly night. I pulled my sweater on and buttoned it up to my chin. I felt dirty. Not only had I starred in Sebastian's sick fantasies, but I was so pathetic that I still desired a man who was both engaged and uninterested in me.

We got safely to the car. Oswald drove quickly and I stared out the window. Once we were into the woods, he said, "I don't know what we should tell the family about tonight."

"Do you need to tell them anything?"

"I suppose they don't need to know that I snuck you into the City, that Sebastian almost caught us..." He paused. "And certainly not how he dressed his girlfriend like you for sex games." Oswald glanced my way and a smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

"We will never speak of this again," I said, and slumped in my seat.

Chapter Twenty

shaken and bestirred

The next day, I threw myself into my writing. Focusing on the skin maladies of zombies was far easier than dealing with my emotional turmoil. In my excitement about Nancy's party, I had forgotten the downside of social events: snotty rich girls who treated you badly, depraved ex-boyfriends, and fabulous men who were frustratingly unavailable.

I hadn't realized it was late until Edna knocked on my door and announced, "Time to help with dinner, young lady."

I put away my few pages and followed her into the kitchen. "Edna, I've always associated country life with drinking martinis in the evening."

"You've read too much Cheever."

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about books."

"Ha!" Edna cried. "I said I didn't look like someone who knew about books. But I suppose we could have a cocktail." She turned to Sam, who'd walked into the kitchen. "Samuel?"

"Count me in. I'll meet you out front."

Edna had an extensive variety of good booze, unusual liqueurs, mixers, garnishes, and recipe books. I thought that she might understand the allure of a drink in a coconut.

Red still attracted me, so I decided to make strawberry daiquiris. Edna stopped me when I was about to dump rum from the bottle into the blender and made me measure it in a jigger-Winnie returned from the clinic just as we were setting out drinks and snacks on the terrace. The sun glowed low over the mountains. We were quiet for some time, listening to the birds calling, leaves rustling in the breeze.

There should be an expression for this pleasant mood. Other languages had phrases to describe elusive feelings, like esprit d'escalier. We seemed to be sharing a relaxed and companionable mood, and I was sure it would sound better in Spanish, like espiritu de los cocteles.

Previous I thought of Ernie and asked, "Do you ever invite Ernie for drinks?"

"Ernie prefers it when we go to the barn and drink beer with him," Sam said.

"In the barn?"

"Yes, he's got a one-bedroom apartment there. The first door on the left. He also owns a few properties in town."