CardsNeverLie (16 page)

“I’ll come with you,” Tommy Joe said, smiling as he
accompanied her down the hall. “You look like you need a break.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” Melanie said after gulping
down half a bottle of Aquafina purified water.

“Shoot,” he said promptly.

“Do you speak to your brother very often?”

Tommy Joe’s expression became guarded. “Sometimes.”

“Did you say anything to him about LeatherWorks being for
sale?”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret,” Melanie
said, “but I mentioned it to you as inter-company gossip.”

Tommy Joe leaned forward in his chair and looked like he was
going to say something but didn’t.

“I hope you keep anything I say about Professional Massage’s
business confidential in the future.”

Tommy Joe nodded. Melanie noticed that he hadn’t admitted
anything, but he had obviously told his brother. What was the point of
rehashing it further? Really, Rob was to blame.

“That’s all I had to say,” Melanie said, rising.

Tommy Joe put a hand on her arm.

“What?”

“Did you get in trouble?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Melanie said, irritated.

“I wouldn’t want that.” She could tell his remark was
heartfelt. He alarmed her with the strength of his emotions. Though slight in
body, his feelings were intense and often seemed out of sync with the occasion.
But sometimes, she realized, they were enough to make you go along with him, as
with that night in the LeatherWorks booth. Could she blame him for the
craziness of that night? Was Rob correct in saying that Tommy Joe had been in
his element?

“Great,” Melanie said. “Neither would I. I’ve got to get
back to my office.” She wished Gerald had been more exciting. Having only
experienced one lover, she had no idea where the line was between imaginative
and kinky.

“Hold on for a minute.” Tommy Joe stood up. “I wanted to ask
you something.”

Melanie waited.

Tommy Joe took a deep breath. “There’s a charity ball this
weekend. For Children’s Orthopedic Hospital. My boss just gave me two tickets.
I said I’d use them.”

“You want me to go with you?” Melanie considered. Did he
deserve another chance? He kind of weirded her out, but maybe she was just
chicken. She felt good about her job again, so maybe it was time to take
another ride on the wild side.

“Yes, they’re company tickets,” Tommy Joe said. “There are
sure to be execs there. It’s always good to socialize with them.”

Melanie nodded. He had her at “company tickets”. She needed
to do everything she could to raise her visibility above Al Plowman’s
questionably supportive level. Not to mention her opinion of him had taken a
nosedive after hearing the story of how he had broken up with Anita. She needed
to find a new mentor. “You’re right. I’ll go. Do I need to pay for you for my
ticket?”

Tommy Joe’s anxious features relaxed. He had been afraid she
would say no. Poor guy. How could you reject someone who liked you that much?

“No,” he said with a radiant grin. “Just wear your best
party dress.” He held out a hand. “Oh wait, it’s a costume ball.”

“What are you going to wear?”

He shrugged. “I have a couple of old costumes. My college
fraternity was big into Halloween.”

“No manacles this time, right?” she teased.

Tommy Joe looked confused then grinned. “Not this time.”

“Great,” Melanie nodded. Just great. “Email me the details.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Jill enter the cafeteria and went over to
her to check on the status of the meetings she had asked to be arranged.

* * * * *

On Saturday night, Melanie sat quietly on her bed as Brisa
adjusted the iridescent costume wings on her back. Brisa’s son Ethan ran loudly
down the wood floor of the corridor outside her bedroom making car noises.

“Calm down, sweetie,” Brisa yelled around the safety pins in
her mouth. “I don’t want you scraping up Cousin Melanie’s nice floor.”

“It can take some abuse,” Melanie said, feeling her back
cramping from the awkward position. “Are you done yet?”

“Just about.” Melanie felt Brisa put in a couple more pins.
“Voila.”

Melanie stood up and looked at herself in the freestanding
cherry mirror that stood in the corner of the room. “I don’t know,” she said
doubtfully. “Don’t you think it’s just a tad virginal?”

Brisa laughed. “It ought to keep Tommy Joe’s mind on the
straight and narrow.”

Melanie rolled her eyes. With her blonde hair, white robe
and incandescent wings, she looked like a Hallmark angel. Looking at herself
would make her mind stay on the straight and narrow. Maybe that was for the
best. Brisa had met with Stanley on Friday and LeatherWorks would receive a
letter from him on Monday. Any sex with Rob Black would be purely of the late night
fantasy kind from then on. She sighed. Of course, her date tonight was with
Tommy Joe. But she had promised herself to make him get tested before she did
anything with him, no matter how compelling he was. The way he behaved, she
couldn’t trust him.

But still. “You’re sure we don’t have any other costumes
lying around?”

Brisa nodded. “My Renaissance peasant costume didn’t fit you
and you never took the time to go to the costume store, so this was it.”

“I didn’t have time to do more than hit you up.” The week
had been saturated with product reviews. Melanie could see from the specks on
her mirror she hadn’t even dusted her bedroom in a couple of weeks. At least.
Not that a man would care, but she was almost glad she wouldn’t have any
company to bring home tonight.

The doorbell rang. Brisa gave Melanie’s wings one last tug.
“Showtime, cuz. You ready?”

Melanie nodded and headed to the front door. She could hear
Tommy Joe’s voice as he said hello to Ethan.

“How come you’re going out with Melanie?” she heard his
childish voice say. Her cheeks burned.

“Because she’s the prettiest girl where I work,” Tommy Joe
said, his voice closer now.

“Don’t you mean prettiest woman?” Brisa said behind her.

Tommy Joe’s mouth was open in response when Melanie reached
the entryway, but that wasn’t the part of him she noticed. Every part of his
body was covered in form-fitting red latex. He had huge red horns on his head
and a forked red tail. She heard her cousin’s gasp.

“You’re the devil,” she said. A silent scream rang in her head.

Tommy Joe looked down at himself and grinned. “Hello, pretty
woman.”

“I’m an angel,” she said stupidly.

“Yes, you are. Yes, indeed,” he leered.

“Sweet Lord,” Brisa said. “Ethan, come here.” She tucked an
arm around her son’s thin shoulders. “This is too funny.”

Melanie shot her a death ray look.

“The angel and the devil. Tommy Joe, honey, did you bring
the manacles?” Brisa shook her head. “I guess you’d have no place to put them.
That costume leaves nothing to the imagination.”

Melanie sneaked a quick look at Tommy Joe’s nether region
and gulped. He may have spidery limbs but the rest of him looked substantial
enough. She hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself during the course of the
evening. Again.

“You need to get your door fixed, Melanie,” Ethan said. “It
totally stuck. I could hardly open it.”

Maybe that would have been for the best. Melanie snuck
another quick glance at Tommy Joe’s package.

Tommy Joe grinned as if he knew what she was thinking and
held out his free hand. “Come with me. You are only risking your immortal soul,
angel.”

Melanie smiled weakly. And her potential happiness with Rob,
who seemed farther away from the realm of the possible than ever. “That’s what
I’m afraid of.”

He leered again. “This is great. I wonder if they’ll have an
award for best costumes. I bet we’ll win if they do.”

“I thought we were supposed to be mingling with upper
management.” Keep it businesslike. It was a way to get through the evening. She
just couldn’t see this man as a romantic partner, or even as a sexual one.

“You think they’ll be dressed any more tastefully? No way.
Donald Milton in Accounting comes as Barney Rubble every year, I’ve been told.
Like that’s going to look classy.”

Melanie giggled in spite of herself. “You’re right. We’re
sure to have a colorful evening.” She waved to her relatives and walked down
the steps in front of Tommy Joe, holding the hem of her robe off the ground.

Chapter Eleven

“You’re sure you don’t mind chauffeuring me to the ball?”
Melanie asked, holding onto Tommy Joe’s hand as she carefully stepped out of
the backseat of his shiny-new, luxury-model Lexus.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Your wings weren’t going
to fit in the front.”

Melanie handed him his pitchfork as she exited, wondering
where a Product Development analyst had come up with the money to buy such an
expensive car.

“Thanks, angel.” Tommy Joe grinned.

“Don’t forget your horns.” She took one last look at the
sleek automobile. He must have family money.

“Oh yeah.” He grabbed his red horn headband from the
passenger seat, pushed it onto his head and slammed the door shut. “Have you
been to the Experience Music Project before?”

Melanie glanced sidelong at Tommy Joe and squeezed her eyes
shut. Money didn’t buy stylish costumes, obviously. In his rubber suit, he
looked like a bunch of red crayons glued together with Tom Cruise’s head pasted
on top. “Several times. Ethan loves the Sound Lab.”

“He’s a cute kid. Is his father around?” They crossed
through the Seattle Center parking lot and walked down to Fifth Avenue North
where the museum was located.

“I don’t know who his father is, actually.” Now that Melanie
knew some of her cousin’s past, she tried to compare the faces of people she
had met in Las Vegas to Ethan’s features. None of them matched.

“That’s too bad.” When they got up to the McDonald’s a horde
of costumed people waited at the crosswalk. A knight, an emperor, a King’s
fool, a pair of young lovers á la Romeo and Juliet, two peasants, a queen.
Since this was Seattle the costumes weren’t very revealing but it still felt
like a show, the way Vegas had and she had a sense of
dejá vu
. A French
maid with an absurdly short Abraham Lincoln joined them from the left. Melanie
caught Tommy Joe checking out the French maid’s abundant cleavage. She felt let
down, her costume was all wrong for a date. She wished she had taken the time
to go to a costume store. The walk light came on and Tommy Joe grabbed her
elbow. She gently shook it off.

“I’m not geriatric, you know.”
Just a lame dresser
.

“I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.” They were jostled
by a bar hall floozie and a cowboy as they crossed the street.

“Like that’s going to happen,” Melanie muttered. Her costume
would probably glow with a pure white light inside the EMP. Look at me, I’m as
square as they come! No one over the age of eight and outside of a Nativity
scene should dress like this.

They reached the multi-colored metal blob that housed the
EMP and entered by the Sky Church, where the ball was being held. Melanie
immediately excused herself and went into the bathroom. She had to do something
about this costume!

In the mirror, she frowned at her Hallmark angel self.
Determined to make a change, she tugged at her robe. That was the ticket. She
loosened the criss-cross straps holding the wings on and rearranged her robe
until she showed some cleavage. She played with her adjustable bra until she
was satisfied. The wing straps now framed her breasts. Another glance in the
mirror showed she looked anything but demure. She smiled at herself then,
nearly satisfied with her transformation, opened her clutch bag. She withdrew a
tube of bright red lipstick left over from the last time she had gone
out—luckily, in a little black dress that went perfectly with marcelled hair
and red lips. She applied it over her modest mauve lipstick and grinned in a
distinctly unholy way at herself. Wild and loving it.

Tommy Joe was nowhere to be seen as she made her way, more
confidently this time, into the crowd. She spoke briefly to a sorceress who
worked in the Operations department at Professional Massage then saw her date’s
red latex behind between a clown and a gorilla.

She had almost reached the Devil Tommy Joe when a monk
barreling by stopped her. While she waited for his considerable bulk to pass,
she heard a whisper in her ear.

“Come to me, fallen angel.”

As the room-length video screen in front of her lit up in a
dizzying show of red, pink and yellow dots, Melanie whipped around, feeling a
shiver go down her spine at the sound of that deep, smooth voice. Disoriented,
she turned in a circle, looking for Tommy Joe. But it hadn’t been his voice.
She wondered if it could possibly have been Rob, but before she could finish
the thought, a voice boomed to her left, startling her even more than those
whispered words.

“Welcome to the Children’s Orthopedic Benefit, ladies and
gentlemen. I’m thrilled to see so many of you here tonight…”

Melanie found herself in front of the sound system as a
hospital executive welcomed the crowd. She slunk away, resisting the urge to
plug her ears, as he extolled the many programs for which the hospital needed
funding.

“Melanie!”

At her elbow was a poor excuse for Barney Rubble with an
anachronistic Lara Croft next to him.

“Is that you, Donald?” Pudgy with a rather squeaky voice, it
certainly hadn’t been him calling her.

“It sure is. Are you here alone?”

“No, my devil has gone missing.”

Lara Croft laughed. “Cute idea. I take it you’re in the
process of being converted to the dark side?” She indicated Melanie’s impure
cleavage. “We’ve never met before. I’m Mary Milton, Donald’s wife.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Melanie said, putting a hand to her
chest. Maybe she had gone a bit too far. She scanned the crowd for Tommy Joe.
Any desire to mingle had left her when she heard that sexy voice. She wanted to
fall, at least into his arms, if it really had been Rob. The light show started
again, whipping gold and silver streaks around in a dizzying wave, then the
screen washed down in red.

“Fallen angel,” she heard the whisper again. She turned, but
no one was there except the Miltons.

“I’m sorry,” she smiled. “I thought I heard someone calling
me.”

“The acoustics in here are pretty wild,” Donald said.

“You’re telling me,” Melanie said, looking around as much as
she could without actually being rude and turning her head. Her peripheral
vision noted Tommy Joe, stroking his forked red tail in the flashing light,
coming their way. It was too late to escape and pursue the voice.

“There you are!” he said loudly, dropping the tail and
draping that same arm around her. Melanie repressed a shudder, remembering the
intimate way he had touched her that night in Vegas.

“Donald, Mary, it’s great to see you.” He held out his hand.

Donald took it with some hesitation and leaned forward. “I’m
sorry, you are again?”

“Tommy Joe Harriman,” Tommy Joe said, his smooth forehead
creasing.

Donald’s brow cleared. “Oh yes, of course. Sorry, I didn’t
recognize you in that—” he waved a hand at the red vinyl covering Tommy Joe’s
lean form like some demented sausage casing.

“I love it,” Mary said, tucking her hand into Tommy Joe’s
arm and rubbing her 36D breast along the edge of his back. Melanie realized
Mary was quite drunk, despite the early hour.

Tommy Joe, ignoring the fact that he was now sandwiched
between two women, started talking to Donald about a management principles book
he had just read. Typical Tommy Joe. He’d suck up to anyone to get ahead. Now
where did that come from, Melanie wondered.

“I’ll be back,” she said and slipped away. She shouldn’t
have come. Tommy Joe in that red devil costume gave her a serious case of the
creeps. Giddy with escape, she moved toward the light show with her back to her
coworkers. Thunderous music started to play as another speaker finished
thanking all of the partygoers for coming. The bass thrummed in Melanie’s ears
as she passed too close to a loudspeaker.

With her eardrums throbbing, she almost didn’t hear the
whisper. “It’s been a long week, angel. Is it time to come out and play?”

She could feel his breath on her ear and a dark form moved
to stand in front of her. Not trusting her eyes, she closed them and put out
her hand. His chest felt warm and she rubbed her hand across the masculine
nipple underneath the fine cotton shirt. It pearled under her questing fingers.

Startled by her body’s matching response, she opened her
eyes. Adonis wore black, from his turtleneck to his gloved hands, to his black
oxfords.

“Rob,” she breathed. What kind of costume was this? When she
looked into his face, she blinked. Was it really Rob? Even in the dim light,
she could see the man had dark hair. She reached her hand up and felt tiny
horns. Was he the devil too? Her breath caught in her throat. What could it
mean?

“I’ve come to take you home,” he whispered, bending over. He
blew a stream of hot breath into her ear.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she said, hearing her voice come out
all shaky. “Your hair is so dark. And those horns.”

She could feel the reverberation of his chuckle under her
hand. “They aren’t real, angel. Any more than those naughty wings are.”

She swallowed and smiled at him, feeling her courage
resurface. “I hope not. You’re supposed to be the good guy.”

He gestured to himself. “Then I’m in the wrong color.”

She shook her head. “Why did you come as a devil?”

Rob looked into her eyes as he stroked his hands down her
arms. Melanie could feel how narrowly his gesture had missed her breasts and
ached with a need for his touch. “I told you I was being chased by demons. I
decided to take charge.”

Melanie felt the edges of her lips quirk up. Now this was a
devil-man. Could he be hers? She moved one sandaled foot against his instep,
desperate to enter his personal space.

“You had me quite confused there earlier. How did you keep
escaping after you whispered to me?”

Rob shook his head mysteriously and tugged her gently away
from the loudspeakers. They walked over toward The Artist’s Journey.

“Want to go through?”

“Sure,” she said, disappointed that they weren’t heading for
the nearest stairwell. All of a sudden he was Mr. Conventional. Her thoughts
certainly weren’t. Their signals were mixed. They walked through the entryway
and stood in front of monitors that showed the legends of funk discussing the
making of their music.

“Rob? How did you get away from me? I was looking all over
after I heard you whispering.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see you until just now.” The edges
of his eyes crinkled.

“Liar!” she punched him in the arm. “You were really
tormenting me. I knew it was your voice but I couldn’t see you anywhere.”

“I like getting a rise out of you.” He laughed. “I love your
costume, by the way.” He gestured toward her chest.

Melanie took a step back. “I looked too holy before, so I
sexed it up a bit.” She stood toe to toe with him and said deliberately, “I
just love this new Wonderbra.”

She saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath. Rob ran his
hands lightly down her arms, then latched onto her elbows. Melanie moved one of
her feet in between his and raised her head to his.

“Welcome to The Artist’s Journey,” an African American tour
guide said, stepping around a corner.

Rob let go of her. Rats! Just as he was starting to pay
attention. Melanie couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Rob looked inhumanly perfect
in his outfit. His pecs felt like rocks under his soft shirt and his spicy
cologne burned through her olfactory system like a drug. She had to get close
to him. Her hormones were screaming “Now!” as they walked onto a series of
walkways surrounding a giant shoe with a long pant leg hanging from the
ceiling. A video started, offering a mini-movie about funk music. Melanie
wanted nothing more than to get her devil-man back into the dark and have her
way with him.

“Ma’am,” the tour guide said. “You’re going to have to do
something about your costume. You won’t fit into our seats.”

Melanie blinked as Rob nodded. “The wings need to go,
right?”

The guide nodded. Rob turned her around and undid the Velcro
straps holding the wings onto her back. The wings collapsed neatly. Melanie
held out her hand but he shook his head and held onto them.

“Thanks,” Melanie whispered, feeling quite ungrateful. She
should have used the wings as an excuse to get them out of there.

He shook his head at her with a grin. “Any devil worth his
salt would be thrilled to get these off you.”

Melanie made an “O” with her mouth and drew back from him in
mock horror, hoping teasing along those lines bore fruit later.

After a few minutes the video ended and they were ushered
into a theater. Rob grabbed her hand and ran his thumb back and forth down her
wrist as they walked down the aisle. Her knees felt weak. They shuffled into
the front row and a bar came down and locked them into their seats. Melanie
took a deep breath.

She had been here before with Ethan. The seats were actually
on a motion system and in a moment, they would feel like they were flying into
an otherworldly performance by funk legend James Brown.

The movie started and the platform they sat upon started to
move close to the screen. Melanie gripped the bar in front of her, knowing she
would feel like she was being pitched over the top as they really started
rocking and rolling.

Rob glanced over at her. “Scared?”

“No,” she whispered. “Just getting prepared.”

They were sucked into a dizzying tunnel of light and sound,
faced with the illusion of hovering around a street as the musicians played
their funky music. Melanie felt out of control as the platform whipped around,
yet she knew she was just in a room, that underneath was safe ground, she was
in Seattle, at home and Rob sat next to her. In reality, she couldn’t be any
safer, no matter the psychological tricks being played on her.

Surrounded by safety, she could be as wild as she dared. As
the movie ended and the platform started to back up, she reached her arm around
Rob’s neck and tilted up to him. She angled her head so as not to bump against
the horns glued to his forehead and put her lips to his.