A Half Dozen Fools Page 11

  "No, thanks, I'm not in the mood."

  He stopped and looked at her. "Whatsa matter--you don't like me?"

  "I like you, James, but really--this is, like, our first date here. I hardly know you."

  He pulled away and shot her a look. "You know me. We have mutual friends."

  The look she shot him back said, Gimme a break. He wobbled and straightened to consider her rejection.

  "Well, how long 'til you know me well enough?"

  Elyse narrowed her eyes and fought the urge to say, Probably never.

  "I don't know, James," she explained. "I go by my gut. I like to wait 'til something feels right, like it's the right thing to do." She gave him a flirty look in hopes of lessening the blow she suspected his ego was taking. "I don't have a calendar for such events."

  He laughed. "You're such a little wise guy!" He started tickling her.

  She giggled as an automatic response, not out of amusement. In fact, she was further annoyed at how he didn't take her wishes seriously.

  Finally, the cab pulled up to her apartment building.

  "Here," James said, "lemme walk you to the door."

  "No, it's all right--I've got my keys right here," she said, jangling them. She pushed the door open, blew him an air-kiss, hopped out and ran.

  James scrambled to follow her but, between the booze and his long legs, he had a hard time of it. Elyse was turning her key in the outside lock by the time he freed himself. From the doorway, she turned and waved.

  "Had a great time tonight, James. Thanks so much!"

  Perplexed, he'd barely mumbled, "You're welcome," before she'd pulled the door to a close and marched across the lobby.

  She strode by the young night watchman seated at the podium. "Hey, Seychelle," she asked, "how's it going?"

  "Not bad, Elyse, not bad," he answered.

  As she pressed the elevator button, he asked, "How's that wall of yours holding up? Everything good, now?"

  "Good as new," she answered brightly. "Should last a nice, long time. Especially since Rick Giordano will never be back to wreak havoc again."

  Seychelle chuckled. "Never say never!"

  Elyse frowned and was about to snap that he couldn't be more wrong, when she decided to switch gears. With a smile, she said, "You know what, Seychelle? I'm saying never with complete confidence. I couldn't take another lapse in judgment like that."

  When the young doorman laughed, his teeth shone white against his smooth, dark skin. "Hey, just saying, we're all human. Sometimes stuff happens, that's all."

  "You're sweet not to judge."

  "Oh, no, not me, I don't judge. I know better than to judge another."

  "Well, the elevator's here. Thanks, Seychelle. Have a good night."

  "Thanks, Elyse. You, too."

  SCRAMBLED

  Chapter 9

  Elyse awakened slowly, groggily. The rustle of silky sheets echoed loudly in utter darkness, and she reveled in the smooth sensation of satin against her naked skin. She reached for another soft pillow and snuggled against it. In spite of her foreign surroundings, she felt comfortable.

  Wait a minute--where am I?

  She bolted upright. While her eyes adjusted, the lingering scent of vanilla-spice candles reminded her of where she was. She fell back against the pillows with a smile, picturing her torridly delightful night with Bobby Kressner.

  After weeks of wining and dining, she'd finally succumbed to his charms. Unlike James, he hadn't tried to jump her bones on their first date. He'd actually behaved like a gentleman the first few times they went out, picking her up in a cab and dropping her off without forcing himself on her. They'd also gone on day trips--to a village on the Hudson River Valley and to New Paltz. On those days, sex hadn't been an issue. Short hikes with great views of the surrounding country sides were followed by cozy lunches at established restaurants and train rides back to the city. Bobby had been affectionate, not pushy. Elyse believed he truly had a fondness for her.

  Of course, in the back of her mind floated all kinds of doubts about getting involved with an actor--especially a famous one. While he doted on her wherever they went, he was a star in need of dotage, too. Elyse wondered if she could ever be enough for him, or if he'd honestly meant it when he said he saw a commitment in their future.

  Now, languid between satin sheets, Elyse suddenly remembered Bobby telling her he loved her last night. Yes, at some time between the stroking and licking and undulating, he'd told her that he loved her. And while she wanted to believe it, something made her hesitate--although she couldn't quite put her finger on just what that might be.

  I've heard some guys just say they love you, when they have sex. As part of the experience and not necessarily true.

  But it wasn't something Elyse said lightly. She would never say it in rote response, either, during sex. No, sex didn't necessarily include saying, "I love you," if she didn't mean it. In fact, Elyse was pretty sure she hadn't said it back to Bobby. Maybe she'd kissed him passionately in response, but she didn't recall saying it, too. Of course, she'd hoped for love with Joel, and she'd tried with Rick, and had even given James a shot. But none of those relationships had blossomed. Now she hoped Bobby was the one.

  She scratched her head as flashes of their hot, writhing interlude seared her mind with its imagery. In fact, the sex had been high-voltage and more exciting than she could ever have imagined. Although, she had to admit, a couple of times she wondered if she was getting it on with Lieutenant Hathaway from New York's Finest or Bobby Kressner.

  She'd felt a little guilty for thinking of his character instead of the man a couple of times, which is when she realized she really didn't know the man all that well, even after dating him. Something in him remained elusive. Then again, maybe Kressner and Hathaway were one and the same. She liked the idea of having an idealistic, passionate do-gooder in her life, a man she could trust to do the right thing, like the lieutenant. She reasoned that Bobby would have to have at least some of that inside to play the role so well--wouldn't he?

  After her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, Elyse was able to discern the outline of furniture. She felt along the king-sized bed for lumps of clothes, but nothing came in reach. Not knowing where a lamp or light switch was, she rose and padded naked to the only window in the room. Drawing aside heavy drapes, she looked at the dank, gray day outside. Gloominess had settled over the gentrified neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen where Bobby lived.

  After tacking part of the curtain back, Elyse could see well enough to find a light switch and retrieve her scattered clothes. But instead of dressing in them, she reached for a T-shirt slung over a chair. It smelled like Bobby, so she pulled it on and smirked when it came down to her knees. Remembering her brush was in her purse out in the living room, she reached for the doorknob and froze at the sound of a woman's voice.

  "I'll be back after shopping in a couple of hours," the woman was saying. "And don't forget, you need to be ready for your trainer at two."

  Elyse suddenly felt self-conscious about coming out in Bobby's T-shirt, fog-brained with her hair all a mess. Then again, she couldn't very well hide in his bedroom all morning, especially since she had to pee. So she smoothed down her hair and, without further ado, pulled back the door.

  Out in the hall, a petite brunette with a pixie haircut was hanging up dry cleaning in the closet. After she'd hung the last plastic-covered item, she turned and stared at Elyse.

  In spite of feeling weird, Elyse gave her a big smile. "Oh--hey! Hi, there. Good morning!"

  The brunette barely mumbled "Good Morning" back before she turned away.

  Elyse flushed at getting the brush off, especially when she'd been so friendly.

  Who in hell is she, anyway? His sister?

  She eyed her with suspicion.

  If she is, there's not much of a family resemblance.

  Total awkwardness set in. Elyse suddenly called out, "Good morning, Bobby!"

  "Hey, Elyse, in here!" Bobby
's voice resonated from a room down the hall.

  Elyse scurried past the pixie-girl straightening boxes in the closet and headed toward the sound of Bobby's voice. She stuck her head inside an office filled with audiovisual equipment and computers to find Bobby seated there, at a large desk. He glanced up and grinned.

  "Morning, glory. How'd you sleep?"

  "Fine."

  She came up and wrapped his shoulders in a hug from behind. He squeezed her arms and gave her a peck on the cheek. She glanced at the script on the desk to see his character's lines highlighted in yellow.

  "Did I interrupt you learning lines?"

  "Yeah, just getting them down. Got a big shoot tomorrow."

  "I have to use the bathroom anyway."

  He gestured toward the hallway. "Bathroom's just down the hall, on the right. All yours. Everything you need should be in there."

  As she tiptoed barefoot along the cold, wood floor, she realized the pixie-ish brunette was now inside the kitchen, going through the cabinets. Elyse shrugged and figured she must be the maid. Grabbing the sides of Bobby's T-shirt, she pulled it down so it wouldn't ride up her bare butt as she trotted to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she reminded herself to tell Bobby about her attitude though.

  A knock on the bathroom door startled Elyse.

  "Hey, Elyse?" Bobby called gently through the door. "There are towels on counter for you. And an extra toothbrush in the drawer on the right. Toothpaste, too."

  "Oh, thanks, Bobby, that's great."

  "Sure, babe. Anything else, just let me know. Oh, hey--you want me to send for coffee from Webster's?"

  "That'd be awesome! A mocha-chino would be good."

  As she drenched herself under the shower's warm, soothing heat, Elyse relaxed and decided that Bobby truly was a sweetheart.

  * * * *

  A dead fly in the glass case closest to the front door of the Make-Up Place marred the entire display of theatrical foundations. In order to get rid of it, Elyse had to remove each and every box from within the case. While she was at it, she decided to give the whole display a good going-over.

  Nissa suddenly rushed through the door twenty minutes late to work--as usual. A blast of cold, December air followed her in, making Elyse shiver. Before the door had come to a complete close, Nissa was ripping off her rainbow-colored cap and matching mittens.

  "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she blurted in excitement.

  Elyse glanced up from her cleaning. "Hey, Nissa, what's up?"

  "I just booked a two-week shoot with Emil Labrune, the big photographer. Doing a shoot for Vogue with a bunch of super models in Belize! Oh my God! I am so-ooo excited!"

  Elyse straightened and looked at her fellow makeup artist. She was standing there grinning, her cold cheeks glowing as red as two fresh apples.

  "Wow," Elyse said. "Well, good for you, girl. Congratulations!"

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

  "And when is this shoot happening?"

  Nissa lowered her voice. "That's the thing, see. I have to leave this weekend. I'll be gone for the next two weeks. Not back 'til just before Christmas."

  "Oh..."

  "Yeah... Well, what am I gonna do, say no? I mean, it's great money, and I'll make major connections." She looked around. "By the way, who's running this dump today--Rod or Judy?"

  "Rod. In his office."

  Nissa glanced toward the closed door and unbuttoned her coat. "No doubt working hard on the latest mystery novel."

  Elyse giggled. "Don't know. I haven't been in there yet."

  Nissa shrugged off her coat. "Yeah, well, let me be the first."

  She hurried to put her coat inside her studio.

  Elyse had the creeping suspicion Rod wasn't going to like Nissa's good news, even if it presented a stellar opportunity for her. Actually, when she stopped to think about it, she herself wasn't taking it all that well. Nissa would be gone during the busiest time of year, with lots of private sessions booked for holiday parties and events--not to mention the retail sales. Without Nissa, Elyse would be the only in-house artist, unless the Hoffenzimmers sprung for a replacement. It wouldn't be easy to find somebody qualified at such a late date, either. Loads of freelancers were already booked in all the big stores, where top dollar was paid to ensure full staffing around-the-clock.

  Nissa flew around the corner fluffing up her auburn bob with its golden-yellow highlights. "Wish me luck," she cracked on the way to Rod's office.

  Before she reached the door, she smoothed her skin-tight skirt over her bubble butt and stuck out her breasts.

  Elyse watched her knock, go inside, and shut the door behind her.

  A moment later Carla came out of the spa room with her latest client. At the same time Elyse heard her cell phone by the register bleep to announce she'd gotten a message. She picked up the phone to read yet another text from James.

  He'd never stopped trying for another date since their first. Every other week he'd ask her out for dinner again, and she'd always text back thanks, but she was busy. Now that things with Bobby seemed pretty steady, maybe she should just tell him she was no longer available.

  While Carla's client paid, Elyse read the latest message from James.

  Dinner tonight, if you don't have plans? Figured I'd try one last time.

  Elyse texted fast and with dexterous ability. "Already have plans, but, thanks, just the same."

  Seconds later, he texted back. "Maybe I should quit asking?"

  Elyse bit her lip then typed. "Probably a good idea. Sorry."

  With no response forthcoming, she placed her phone by the register again, and moved onto the next retail case for cleaning. She hadn't wanted to hurt James's feelings, but was glad he finally got the message--literally.

  Muffled but strident voices could be heard behind the office door. Mercifully, Carla's client had already left by the time Nissa came storming out of Rod's office, slamming the door shut. Elyse jumped as the angry sound vibrated throughout the otherwise quiet place.

  Nissa growled, "That fucker!" as she strode inside her studio.

  Elyse and Carla shot each other a worried glance.

  While Carla gathered up the paperwork from her client, Elyse sprayed glass cleaner over the next countertop. Wiping it arduously, she frowned when it remained cloudy. It was simply impervious to any effort at making it shine.

  Nissa came around the corner with her coat on, wheeling her full-size makeup box like luggage. She stopped by Elyse as she tucked her scarf inside her coat. "That fucker said I couldn't have the time off!" She pulled her rainbow-colored cap over her bob. "As if I'd miss a chance like this! Is he high, or what?"

  "What are you going to do?" Elyse asked.

  "I did it, already--the only thing I could. I quit!"

  "Oh, wow," Elyse exclaimed in a panicky voice. "You quit? For real?"

  "I sure did. That prick. I've got better things to do than push his crappy line anyway. To begin with, the foundation's too goddamn thick. It's shit!"

  "Well," Elyse said defensively, "it's good for stage..."

  "Whatever! Believe me, I got all the lipsticks and brushes I'll ever need from here." She lowered her voice and said in cheeky tone, "The only good stuff, I took a long time ago, believe me."

  "You did?" Elyse asked.

  "Hell, yeah! I hooked up my box up when I first started."

  "You bought stuff for your box?"

  Nissa gave Elyse a look. "Wake-up, sleepy head."

  "Oh," Elyse said, grasping the notion that Nissa had pilfered from the stock.

  Nissa hissed, "Those cheap Hoffenzimmers never did me any favors!"

  At the sound of Rod's office door opening, Nissa grabbed her makeup box handle and rolled it fast toward the door.

  "I'm outta here!" she said with snippy petulance. "Talk atcha later!"

  "Good luck, Nissa," Elyse said. "Let us know how it goes."

  By the time Rod had reached the retail counter, Nissa was rushing head
long into a gust of wind.

  Carla crept back to the spa.

  "What a stunt!" Rod bellowed. "What an ungrateful little--" He caught himself and huffed. "I just called Judy and told her what happened. Elyse, you're gonna have to get out the book and pencil in Nissa's appointments for yourself. If you're already booked, call and try to reschedule. Otherwise, we'll get a freelancer in to cover."

  "Sure, Rod," Elyse said.

  "You'll make all the money over the holidays," he boomed. Glaring out the window, he added, "No loyalty, at all!"

  While Elyse was grateful for the chance to earn more money, the thought of appointments around the clock brought tremors of anxiety. Her adrenals ached with the mere thought of keeping it together for the onslaught.

  She set about rescheduling appointments as Rod had ordered. At various points throughout the day, however, she found herself pushing away jealousy and fighting bitter tears. She knew it wasn't nice to be jealous of Nissa's good fortune, but frankly, it sounded like a dream come true. Who wouldn't want a gig like that in Belize, just before Christmas? An exotic environment with beautiful models, success at doing what you love?

  She sighed and switched around as many double-bookings as she could, dreaming of the kind of good luck Nissa had gotten in escaping the Make-Up Place doldrums.

  Chapter 10

  While Bobby locked every one of the four dead bolts on his apartment door, Elyse slipped off her overcoat.

  "Think you've got enough locks going on there, Bobby?"

  "Better safe than sorry."

  She sashayed into the living room.

  Between the buzzer into the main building, two doormen on call at all times, his phone to the front desk, and a sundry locks on his apartment door, Bobby struck her as paranoid. But she kept that thought to herself and grabbed a magazine off a pile on a side table. Plopping down on the sofa, she crossed her ankles on top of the coffee table. A moment later, Bobby cuddled up beside her. He put an arm around her shoulders and caressed her thigh with the other hand.

  "Did I tell you how hot you look in that black jumpsuit?"