Dangerous (2 page)

I cycled the light on and off myself. “Wow, thanks.” I tried to think of something clever to say as I tucked it into my purse.

Just then I was distracted by the sight of Scott Simonsen, the star of
Time Twister
, as he tossed his own luminous cup into the trash. He and his sexy costar Jenna Rydell had been a tabloid-worthy item at last year’s party, but tonight they’d each brought different partners, so that relationship was apparently over. I vaguely recognized Simonsen’s new girl as a recent addition to the cast.

I didn’t envy their celebrity, and was grateful to live far below the media’s radar. In truth, my recent long work hours left no time for relationships, scandalous or otherwise—a fact which rendered my life simpler, but also more lonely.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Val prompted. Her question? I blinked as I mentally rewound the evening.

“Oh, whether I’m an artist? Well, maybe. I was a Fine Arts major, but I haven’t done anything you’d call art in years.”

“No? I’ll be very surprised if you don’t have a highly creative job.”

“I’m an effects compositor at Lucid Dreams Studio,” I said, then added, “Compositing, that’s when you digitally combine different film elem—”

“I know what compositing is, dear. A fascinating process.”

“Sorry. Most people don’t have a clue what I do. But I’m not sure if it qualifies as art.”

“Oh?” She said, in a tone that expected an answer.

“A lot of my work isn’t obvious. Like combining parts of different takes in one shot, or replacing a sky. If the audience doesn’t see it, is it art?”

“A famous conductor once said the most perfect technique goes unnoticed. So yes, dear, you’re an artist.”

Her praise pleased me. I was starting to feel the buzz from that drink.

“Do you work on Brent’s show?” she asked.

“No, most of our work comes from American Pictures and Panoramic.”

Val looked around. “Well, your friend certainly has an odd sense of humor. Not everyone throws a Christmas party with a Hawaiian theme.”

It was true. The tiki lamps and other Polynesian touches scattered about transformed the huge backyard into Gilligan’s Island. Even the band was Hawaiian, complete with ukulele and slide guitar.

“Yeah, he never misses a chance to poke fun at tradition.” He’d been that way in college, too.

“So it seems,” she said, “Yet I did see a rather traditional Santa Claus wandering about earlier. And two elves. Pretty things.”

I’d seen them too, though I would have called them
porny
, given their red pleather teddies and fishnet stockings. Knowing Brent, they were probably exotic dancers moonlighting for cash.

“Maybe there’s a city ordinance requiring a Santa Claus at all big holiday parties.” That made her laugh.

Then Millie returned with my martini, and something for Val as well. The cups were disappointingly dark. “They’re out of the lighted cubes, Ma’am—I asked,” Millie said. I wasn’t surprised; a party this size would burn through hundreds of them in no time.

Val gave her drink a critical taste and appeared to find it satisfactory. Millie showed visible relief.

Curiouser and curiouser, and more than a little weird.

“May I ask what you do for a living, Val?” I ventured.

“Computer security.”

“Like, hackers? Viruses?” I asked when she didn’t elaborate.

“It’s nothing personal, but unfortunately that’s all I can tell you.”

Damn, was nothing simple or safe with this woman?

“Don’t feel bad,” she continued. “Millie doesn’t know either. Though she suspects I’m some kind of high-tech assassin.”

“Are you?” I asked with a grin.

“I’m afraid that’s something I can neither confirm nor deny,” she deadpanned. Was she serious? I could easily imagine her working for the CIA or some other three-letter agency. Normally that would have put me off, yet I hadn’t had this much fun in months.

“What, you don’t trust me?” I teased.

“The important question is whether you trust
me
,” Val said. “Shall we play a game, Koishi?”

“Uh, sure,” I said, fearing I’d just made a mistake.

She regarded me with eyes that were suddenly deeper, darker. “Truth, or dare?”

What? I hadn’t played that since my childhood.

“Dare,” I said on impulse.

“Very well, stand right there,” Val said, placing a hand on my shoulder as she moved behind me. “Millie, hold her things.”

The girl did so with a tiny roll of her eyes. I gathered she’d seen this routine before.

Val’s hand moved hypnotically on my bare arm. “Hands at your sides. Just like that. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply and relax.”

Feeling awkward, I tried to do as she asked.

“Now keep your eyes closed, and your back straight.” Val’s hand went away. “When you’re ready, I want you to fall over backward. I promise to catch you.”

It seemed a trivial thing, yet panic seized me in the dark behind my closed eyelids. I laughed nervously when my body refused to move. Then I heard Millie’s mocking
hmph
. A flash of annoyance overcame my fear, and suddenly I was falling backward into the unknown, squealing in terror.

And Val caught me. A blast of relief and adrenaline shot through my body as she held me a moment, before helping me to my feet. Millie returned my purse and drink without comment.

“Well done,” said Val.

The ice cubes of my drink rattled in my shaking hand. I scarcely noticed the nearby guests staring at us, so struck was I by a sudden feeling of connection with this woman, as if we’d exchanged something intimate, even a little sacred.

I set my things down on the grass and took a position behind Val. “Your turn,” I said.

Millie spluttered and laughed, as if I’d just put a fish on my head. With a look of amusement, Val faced me and said, “I’m afraid our game doesn’t quite work that way. But let’s see how Millie does.”

I picked up my things, feeling abashed. To my chagrin the girl fell back into Val’s arms without the least hesitation or alarm. And when it was over, Millie shot me a grin that said
I win
.

§

For the next half hour Millie remained polite but cool. Val didn’t seem to care, and kept assigning small tasks to her companion.
Fetch us another round. Go flirt with that man over there, see if you can get his phone number. Find Mr. So-and-so, and give him my card.
Millie dutifully performed each mission with an eagerness Val seemed not to notice. She was too busy charming me.

Exactly what was the nature of their relationship, to permit such games? I’d guessed they were a couple, but now I wasn’t sure. Val was clearly in charge, which matched what I already knew of her personality. Millie, however, was the enigma. She behaved like those annoying production assistants I deal with at work, who fawn over their bosses and cringe at the least disapproval. And that was consistent with Millie’s use of “Ma’am”. Well, sort of. If she resented my presence, why didn’t she just speak up rather than glower?

Yet I was drawn to Val and her attentions, despite her counterpart’s growing resentment. Or maybe because of it.

During the clamor of these thoughts Val said something shocking.

“Oh, listen,” she said with a look to the band, which had begun a downtempo set. A few people were already slow-dancing. “Millie, I have an idea. I need to speak with Mr. Robertson over there, before he leaves. In the meantime won’t you be a good girl and invite Miss Koishi to dance?”

What the hell? Although Millie’s expression didn’t change, I sensed her suppressed rage. Yet she seemed unwilling, or unable, to refuse Val’s seemingly casual request.

As for me, I was in free-fall. For one thing, I’d never slow-danced with another woman before. It didn’t bother me in theory. But being thrust into it, in public, was quite a different matter. I was irritated, too. Surely Val knew I had no wish to dance with Millie. Yet she actually seemed to enjoy our antagonism, and used this request to sharpen it.

So what was her game? I felt like a contestant on
Face Your Fear
, where people ate bugs and let themselves be buried alive for a million-dollar prize. Damned if I was going to lose, and miss seeing Millie humbled.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Koishi?” Millie asked in a strained voice, offering her hand.

With her bizarre request Val had swiftly opened a door of opportunity. I didn’t know what lay on the other side, but there was no time for hesitation. I could either pass through it into adventure, or turn aside and stay in my safe, boring life. My heart pounded.

A thought struck me.
I can stop any time I want.
I took her hand, and a voice just like my own said:

“I’d be delighted, Millie.”

§

Val let us dance for two songs.

Millie would not meet my eyes. Instead she looked past me, the way an actress doesn’t see the camera. The hard line of her mouth and frequent blinks told me she was fighting tears. Two or three times she took in sharp, sniffly breaths, but didn’t cry.

Millie’s body was even more conflicted than her features, a chaos of supple moves and hard angles. I could almost hear the clang of her emotions like tennis shoes in the dryer.

My own inner storm had quieted after accepting Val’s challenge, however. I enjoyed Millie’s struggle with great detachment, as if looking down from a fluffy white cloud. The couples dancing nearby seemed to know we were about some dark business and gave us room, but I didn’t care.

Near the end of the second song Val returned and said to Millie, “May I cut in?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, as her voice caught.

“Thank you,” answered Val, with a smile I would later come to think of as shark-like. Millie released me and walked briskly toward the house, out of sight.

I win
, I thought with dark satisfaction.

Millie had danced with her arms around my neck, taking the girl’s role, but with Val it was the complete opposite. Her hands on my hips were strangely affecting, impossible to ignore.

“Did you enjoy your dance, Koishi?” Her voice in my ear, so close.

“It was, um, different.” What else could I say?

She didn’t speak for a while, but simply danced. No stiffness, no inner battle; she moved with a fluid control that was easy to respond to. And unlike Millie, Val kept her eyes on me, studying.

“You handled that quite well. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” I said, with a flush of pride.

§

The song ended, yet Val didn’t let go. I stood with my arms still about her neck, wondering what to do next.

Millie returned with two small plates of appetizers and a wholly new attitude. “Ma’am, and Miss,” she said with a meek smile, holding them out to us. Her puffy eyes were ringed by smudged makeup; she’d been crying, but seemed to have capitulated. I savored the sweet, dark taste of victory.

Val released me, and took one of the offered snacks. I followed suit. Millie curtsied, saying, “I’ll see to the drinks, Ma’am.”

“Yes, and you may get one for yourself, dear.”

Millie smiled timidly, and left with no anger in her flounce this time.

Val and I sat on a nearby bench to wait.

The band took another break and someone kicked on a driving vocal trance mix. A few people began to dance again, among them the Santa we’d seen throughout the evening. He’d had too much to drink. His shirt flopped loosely where the padding had been; somewhere in these vast grounds Santa had given birth to a mound of sweaty belly-stuffing, and abandoned it. His hat was askew, his beard long gone, and he was betrayed as an improbably young surfer dude with sun-bleached hair. A pretty, dizzy blond girl fought off his broad advances.

The porny elf girls were nowhere to be seen. Oh, there they were: clinging to a rich, connected producer-type wearing an
ostent
. That was my private name for those trendy, ostentatious headsets with LEDs that glowed in the Self-Important band of the visible spectrum.

“The veil is thin, in Tinseltown,” Val said into my ear, having seen the fallen state of Claus and his helpers. “You see how quickly our secret hungers come out, at the first scent of blood in the water.” She paused, leaned even closer. “Are you hungry, Koishi?”

Those words, her breath in my ear…it stopped my heart.
This is how it feels to be nuzzled by a vampire
, I thought. The thrill before the bite. Is this what bound Millie to Val? I could well believe it.

And then she straightened, leaving cool night air to fill the void where she’d just been, so hot and close. I looked down for a moment, needing something to say, something to do. My first taste of Val’s mystery world on the other side of that door had been very darkly velvet.

Millie hustled back with a concerned look and three drinks in her hands. She’d been gone a long time.

“I’m sorry Ma’am the bartender was a different guy and he couldn’t get your drink right and he had to make it three—”

“Hush, doll. Let me have a taste.” She appraised her drink. “Well done. Come, sit here,” she said, patting the bench on the side opposite me. Millie gave me my martini and sat close to Val, eyes bright at her sudden good fortune. As we chatted, this version of Millie was absolutely charming: eager, breathless, almost worshipful. I began to see what Val prized in her.

At the same time, I felt the subtle shift in the energies of our triangle. I was no longer the focal point; Millie was back in Val’s good graces, and I missed the extra attention. Especially after the whispered intimacy before Millie’s return.

Had I blundered and broken some unspoken rule? Or was Val just playing with me? Whatever the reason, I craved what had been withdrawn.

“Let’s go have a look around, shall we?” Val said, looking at me, telling me I was still in the game.

We rose and followed a small stone path away from the main party area. It twisted through trees, among faux rocks, and past a gardener’s shed. I realized, then, that I’d never seen Brent’s back yard during the day. It always seemed so mysterious in the nighttime. Farther back, there was a well-concealed hot tub of dramatic fiberglass boulders. Colored, recessed accent lights turned the spot into a mini-Disneyland.