Make Me Howl (13 page)

In moments, Beatrice opened the door and ushered me into a very comfortable room with a country kitchen, opening off one side. A fireplace stood in the corner of the great room. The furniture was expensive and overstuffed. The floors, golden oak, edged by the same rock as had been used on the outside of the house and the fireplace. I opened my mouth to tell Mrs. Holliday how lovely her home was, when Billie Holiday sang,
you and you alone bring out the gypsy in me.

“Do you play that song just to match your doorbell tones?”

Beatrice moved to a control panel and turned down the music. “That’s one of Sam’s new toys. He connected the sound system to the door chimes, so whatever we have playing, the bell picks up the first few notes.” She shrugged. “I know it’s silly, but it keeps him busy and out of trouble.”

I stood in the midst of understated opulence; the study of which I’d made certain was part of my undergrad degree. “He must do well with it.”

She chuckled as she shook her head. “He only does it for his amusement.”

Then you must get a real kick as you haul your bucks to the bank.
I kept my thoughts deep inside me. If I didn’t know her son, I’d wonder if the family didn’t have a Lycan connection.

While it’s not universally known, being part of a family with a werewolf, while aggravating and sometimes horrifying, tends to bring certain good things—maybe it’s the cosmos making up for it. My own father had struggled to make a living for his family until I was born. Then things smoothed into place quite nicely.

“Is he a veterinarian like Chase?” I asked. If so, he had to be vet to the stars to afford a home like this.

“Oh, no, dear. Sam’s a geologist. Spence works in the family business with him.”

The brother who’d irritated Bella so. “Is he a geologist, too?”

“No, he has a degree in finance. His father thought he was too valuable to let work for someone else, so he hired him.”

I nodded as I strolled to a wall of family pictures. “What a beautiful arrangement.”

“That picture is Drew and Mack when they were babies.” Pride for her family rose in her voice. “I think the only major they’ve declared so far in college is girls. Or partying. It’s hard to tell which.”

She took me to the bedroom, where she pointed out Sam’s closet, then led me into her closet, designed to make any woman—even Oprah—jealous. Bright light filled the room, reaching into every corner. In the center of the room was an island in which she kept sweaters, lingerie, stockings and other things she didn’t want to hang. Skirts, each one on a separate wooden skirt hanger, all hung on half racks as did shirts and blouses. Daytime dresses were on one side of the closet and evening dresses on another. The shoes were on shoe-sized shelves and boots on boot sized.

I couldn’t hide my delight. “I could live in here! In fact, this would be the perfect design for a store.”

Beatrice laughed. “My husband says if the bottom ever falls out of our business, he’s going to throw open the doors and put me to work, selling my stock.”

She led me through another door to an identical closet, holding her spring/summer wardrobe. “Feel free to go through my things.”

I pulled my laptop from my bag, set it on the island and opened the cruise wear template, which I’d designed early on in my career. “Where is the cruise going?”

“We leave from Miami on December first, go through the Panama Canal, then up the coast to San Francisco.”

I filled in the blank. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three weeks or so. There is laundry service on the ship, but I’d rather not use it if I don’t have to. You never know if you’ll get your things back or someone else’s.”

“I understand.” I glanced around, but didn’t see any luggage stored there. “I assume you have plenty of luggage.”

“I’ll have one of the boys get it out of storage so you can see it. We’ll just have to purchase more, if necessary.” She glanced around the room as if checking for something she might have forgotten. “I’ll leave you alone to get to work.”

I filled in quantities of what she owned. Later I’d do a printout, listing suggestions for her. Luckily, they were leaving from a warm weather port, and during most of their trip, it would be warm. But San Francisco in January would require a few winter clothes. And often the nicer, private cruise lines throw an impromptu last night party, so we’d have to be prepared for that.

I started a separate page for Sam. His closet, while not as large and well organized as Beatrice’s, was still impressive. Over the years, I’d learned to take a measure of a man from his closet. Sam was quite a guy. He liked his clothes nice, expensive and understated.

What I liked best about him, though, was his work clothes. They were stained, his boots had steel toes, and on one shelf, he had a hardhat. He hadn’t just inherited the business. He’d worked and, from the look of his boots, worked hard to build it.

After saving their profiles, I packed my computer and went back into the bedroom, where an entire collection of Louis Vuitton luggage had been lined up next to the bed. It looked like a double set.

When I left the bedroom, Beatrice came out of the kitchen. “I made coffee. I hope you’ll have some.”

“I’d love some.” I moved closer to the fireplace, where I stared at the flickering of the fire. Easy warmth moved through me, as if I were home. As if I could kick off my shoes, put up my feet and be at ease—unusual for me. Usually, my Lycanthrope stayed foremost in my mind, constantly reminding me I couldn’t relax. I might say or do something to reveal my secret.

I drew a full breath, a prelude to a yawn, when I noticed Doc’s scent tingeing the air. Spinning, I found him, lazed against the doorway into the kitchen. Delight spurted through me, but I forced a frown. “What are you doing?” As if he didn’t have every right to be there.

His smile, slow in coming, started first at his eyes, then quirked his lips in a crooked smile that shot through me. To my core. “Enjoying the view.”

I tried to keep his ambition in life—to eradicate werewolves—in the front of my mind. Hoping to irritate him, I smiled sweetly. “Did you get called for luggage detail?”

“No.” He gazed at me as if he were a starving man and I were a mountain of ice cream. “My brothers took care of that. I saw your Z and didn’t want to miss…seeing you again.”

I tried to swallow, but the grit in his voice as he spoke those words kept that from happening. I wanted to breathe, but my heart slammed so hard against my lungs, there was no room for air. I wasn’t even sure I could walk until I found myself gliding toward him. And him toward me.

“Jazzy, here’s your—” Beatrice stopped mid-word. “Why, Chase! I didn’t know you’d come in.”

He stopped just before he touched me, but I still felt him, and it made me want to howl.

Swiftly, he moved to his mother’s side, taking the small tray with two coffee cups on it from her. “Let me help you, Mom.”

“Thank you,” she answered. “I’ll get another cup.”

He set the tray on a small table in the midst of a conversation area next to the fireplace. Beatrice came back into the room with the third cup and handed us each one. “Oh, I should have asked, Jazzy. Do you take cream or sugar?”

“No. I like it black.” I usually joked about liking my coffee like my men—strong and bitter—but I couldn’t find the humor.

Amusement sparked in Doc’s eyes. “Somehow I thought you would.”

Beatrice shot Doc a glance, then returned her gaze to me. “Any idea how much I’ll need to add to my wardrobe for the trip, Jazzy? I suppose I’ll need to schedule time for shopping.”

I took a sip as I thought about the classical pieces in her closet. “You have a complete wardrobe, Beatrice. I think you’ll want to add a few items that reflect the latest styles, but it won’t take too much time.”

“Where do you usually take your clients?” she asked.

“I never take them shopping. I arrange for a few shops to deliver an assortment of pieces to my office. Then I’ll set up an appointment with you to try them, see if you like them. I’ll also take care of having alterations done then I’ll have them folded and ready to pack in your bags when they’re delivered to your door.”

“Sounds like a very personalized service,” Doc murmured.

“It is. And the women who use my services return to me year after year. I make a busy woman’s life manageable. And a woman of taste, a woman of style.”

“Do many people find this a career calling?” he asked.

“Very few.” I tossed my hair behind my shoulders. Was he trying to piss me off? “When I first started, my sister said I was just trying to find a way to call my shopping vice a job.”

Beatrice smiled, unaware of the vibes bouncing around the room. “What did you say, dear?”

I shouldn’t have said it, I know. But self-righteous people give me a pain. “I told her it was better than sticking my hand up elephant rears.”

I stared right at Doc as I said it, and was surprised when he laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair.

Realizing I probably should have held my tongue, I glanced at Beatrice and, again, was shocked to see her grinning, too. “I would imagine that the basic requirement of taste and style in combination with business savvy isn’t easy to manage. A kind of left-brain, right-brain way of life.”

“Exactly.” I finished my coffee and set down the cup. “I’d better be going.”

“All right.” Beatrice shot her son a pointed look. “
I’ll
walk you out, dear.”

Doc shrugged. “Guess I’ll clean up the dishes.”

As we walked out the door, Beatrice thanked me for making the trip out. “I’d like to ask you one more thing. Please don’t feel you have to answer me right now, but would you consider flying to Miami with us? We’d love to have you as our guest at the bon voyage party.”

I checked my calendar and found it clear. “I’d love to.”

****

Busy as I am that time of year, the days flashed past. Before I knew it, I had to set aside clothing charts, appointment calendars and mall trips to dress for the bon voyage party. Naturally, I’d taken time to do a little shopping for myself and found a heart-of-the-ocean blue gown covered with Swarovski crystals with a plunging neckline. The wrap was a generous shrug with a single button closure.

I met the Hollidays at the airport, and I have to say, the vision of that family of men in their tuxedoes was wonderful. With his good looks, Chase held my attention and made me feel tingly inside, but I did my best to hide it.

Beatrice didn’t look too shabby in her flowing evening gown, if I do say so myself. We flew to Miami in their private jet, the interior of which was absolutely beautiful by anyone’s taste. The main seating area looked like someone’s living room. A leather couch sat on one side surrounded by several matching or contrasting chairs. Just behind the conversation group was a pair of overstuffed chaise lounges. It looked as if pleasure was the main reason for the jet.

A limo met us at the airport, sent by the cruise company, which made me wonder just how expensive a trip this would be for the older couple. Happily, I didn’t get the sense it that it would cause a strain on their budget or that they even had a budget.

I’d been to the ocean many times, but each time I’m near it, the scent of salt air surprises me. As Chase helped me out of the limo, I drew several deep breaths while mentally keeping my fingers crossed that I wouldn’t make myself dizzy.

After we boarded the ship, the purser led us to the suite that would be Sam and Beatrice’s home for the next three weeks. I’d had a few worries about whether the couple would get claustrophobic.

After we looked around the small, well appointed sitting room, Beatrice glanced at me. “Jazzy, why don’t you come with me to find the kitchen?”

“It’s called a galley, Mom.” Doc’s younger brother, Drew, corrected her as he sidled to the wet bar and opened a bottle of champagne. “If you’re going on a cruise, you ought to at least talk like it.”

His mother flashed him a sharp look. “Take it easy over there. We have a long evening ahead.”

“Yeah. Don’t embarrass the family tonight,” Mack said as he trailed after Drew.

Beatrice shook her head, but with a sigh turned and led the way to the very small kitchen where she glanced around at the small fridge, microwave and two-burner stove. “Well, I guess they don’t expect me to cook.”

“I hope not.”

We moved into the bedroom after that. The bed had a heavy satin comforter, the green-blue color of ocean water, a pair of upholstered chairs and his and her dressers. Even the closets were fair sized. The drapes matched the bedspread fabric exactly.

While I checked out the bathroom—complete with a tub and separate shower, Beatrice opened the drapes and revealed a balcony with a pair of lounge chairs.

Oh, yeah. I could get used to living there in a hurry.

Beatrice checked her watch. “Well, I guess we’d better go to the party. If I don’t feed those two monsters, Mack and Drew, they’ll drink too much, and I’ll be angry at them the entire trip. And vacation anger is hard on a woman.”

I tried to hide the smile pulling at my mouth. “We certainly don’t want that.”

“No.
They
don’t want that. Because if I spend my entire trip planning their punishment, they’ll be very sorry.”