Maybe Baby (12 page)

“Room 405. And you got one hour.”

Nick winked at her, took the card, and led Dana to the elevator. Silently, they got in and she hit 3. They smiled at each other and looked away, like a couple of kids on a first date.

“This is fun,” she said.

“Really?” he said. “You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. You have to understand, I’ve been running a winery for ten years. And here I get to be all Remington Steele with you.” She stared at the numbers blinking at the top of the elevator. “Takes my mind off worrying about Mom.”

“We’ll get her back,” he said.

“Yeah.” She gave him a brief smile. “I know.”

The elevator doors opened, and Nick moved down the hall toward Room 319, with Dana following.

“So,” she said, “what was I supposed to be back there?”

“What?”

“What was I?” she asked from behind him. “A prostitute? A secretary running out with her married boss for a nooner?”

He looked both ways down the hall, then reached into his back pocket for the keycard. “Either or. What does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I just want to know what I am to you.”

Nick paused with the keycard in midair. “What?”

She shrugged and made a vague gesture with her hand. “I just think… you know… it’d be easier if I knew my role. You know…” She kept her eyes on his for a moment, then looked away. “To pretend.”

Nick watched her for a moment. “I don’t know. Be whatever you want.”

“I think I wanna be a prostitute.”

He raised one eyebrow and slid the keycard into the door. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The door buzzed, and he pushed his way in, Dana following closely behind. The drapes were closed, and the room was dark, but Nick recognized the smell the moment he walked into the room. He remembered it from Vivian Bellefleur’s house. Earthy, sweet, and very, very strong.

“Oh, my God,” Dana said, her voice going nasal as she put her hand over her nose. “What is that smell?”

Nick reached over and flicked on the light and saw it, perched under the chair in the corner of the room. It had a body like a fat, graceless, green chicken. Its eyes were black, beady, too far apart, and set inside two round puffs of whitish feathers that gave its face an owlish appearance. Only, instead of having an owl’s short beak, this thing had a long honker curving down the front of its face, giving it a slight resemblance to Horshack from
Welcome Back, Kotter.

“We came all this way for a big, fat, smelly green chicken?” Dana whispered, huddling close enough behind him that Nick could feel her breath on his neck.

“It’s a parrot,” Nick said, grabbing the cardboard box lying next to the bed. He took a step toward the bird.

“Hey, Horshack,” he said lightly. “Time to go, buddy.”

Horshack, however, had other ideas. As soon as Nick moved toward the bird, he flapped his wings and let loose with a monstrous squawk reminiscent of an eighteen wheeler screeching to a violent halt. Dana screamed and clutched at Nick’s shoulder.

“What the hell is that thing?”

Before Nick could respond, there was a knock on the door.

“Housekeeping,” a voice came through the door. Dana clutched harder at Nick’s shoulder.

“What do we do?” she whispered.

Nick glanced around the room, then started to guide Dana toward the closet. The bird gave another squawk at their movement.

“You wait in here,” he said to her. “I’ll handle this.”

There was another knock at the door. “Housekeeping. Is everything all right in there?”

Dana resisted. “But they’ll see you. They’ll know you’re not him. He’s bald. And from New Zealand.”

Nick sighed. “You got a better idea?”

Dana’s grip tightened on his shoulder, then suddenly released. She looked up at him, her eyes wide as a light-bulb went off over her head. “Oh! Yeah, I do!”

She began working the buttons of his shirt. He reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Dana,” he said, his heart rate quickening, “what are you…?”

She met his eye. “Trust me.”

Their eyes locked for a moment longer. Another knock at the door.

“Housekeeping,” the woman said again. “I’m going to come in now.”

In a flash, she had his shirt off, and then pulled her own off, revealing a lacy, electric blue bra. Nick felt his breath catch in his chest.

“Dana,” he said, trying to keep his voice even as his heart rate picked up, “why don’t you tell me what you’re doing?”

“Because you’ll argue,” she said, “and there’s no time.”

She pushed him back on the bed and placed a pillow over the top half of his head, covering his eyes and forehead, then unbuttoned his jeans. He lifted himself up on his elbows as danger alarms went off in every area of his body.

“Dana—”

She put one hand to his chest and pushed him back down with a smile.

“Trust me,” she said.

Nick sighed, lay back, and allowed her to settle the pillow back over his eyes. A moment later, he felt her straddle him and lean her body over his. It was warm and soft, just like he remembered.

Oh. God.
This wasn’t going to be good. He tried to think of England, think of kittens, think of anything but how good it felt to have Dana’s nearly naked body on top of his.

“Dana,” he said again, but was silenced by her lips on his. She tasted heady, like the beer she’d been drinking, and Nick felt the bed spin as she ran her hands down his chest, toward the waist of his jeans, nudging them down a bit lower on his hips. He reached for her, relishing in the feel of her bare, soft skin under his fingers. He slowly moved his hands down her back as their tongues danced hungrily, one over the other, and realized that at some point, she’d removed her jeans, leaving on something satiny and, he could only hope, electric blue.

He pulled her to him, arching up to meet her as they started to find a rhythm. He reached one hand up, tangling his fingers in her hair as he deepened their kiss. He had completely forgotten about the hotel room, the bird, and the maid outside until he heard the door open.

“Stay put,” she whispered in his ear, then he was alone on the bed, her sudden absence almost physically painful.

“Oh!” he heard a woman say as the door closed shut. “I’m sorr… Is that a bird?”

“Yeah,” Dana said, a giggle in her voice as she slid casually into a strong city accent. “It’s mine. Some guys have a thing for birds. What are you gonna do, right?”

“Right. Sure.”

Nick could feel the maid’s eyes on him. Probably, on all of him. Some of which had become noticeably more noticeable as of late.

Gonna get you for this, Diz,
he thought, but stayed still, as ordered.

“We don’t… there are no birds allowed,” the maid stammered.

“S’okay, sweetie,” Dana said. “We’ll be done in about fifteen minutes, and when I go, the bird goes. But I’m kinda running on the clock. Would you put the
Do Not Disturb
sign up for us, please?”

There was a moment of silence, then shuffling feet, then the sound of the door closing. Nick heard someone, he could only presume it was Dana, moving around the room.

“Can I get up now?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. He pulled the pillow off the top of his head and caught the slightest glimpse of Dana’s electric blue bra as she pulled her turtleneck sweater back over her head. Her jeans were already on, leaving his curiosity about her underwear as unsatisfied as the rest of him. Nick hopped off the bed, turning his back to Dana as he arranged himself and zipped up.

“This is fun!” she said. Her face was bright and flushed, with no sign of any concern over what had happened between them just moments before. Maybe it had all been an act for her, just some quick thinking to divert the hotel staff. Nick, however, was still having trouble catching his breath.

“Don’t thank me or anything,” Dana said.

“For what?” Nick growled as he grabbed his shirt off the bed, knowing his irritation resulted more from not being able to finish what they’d started than anything else.

“For saving us, you big dope.”

She walked toward him to grab her jacket off the floor. Nick stopped buttoning his shirt to watch her.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “You were good.”

“I really thought on my feet, didn’t I?” she said, walking back toward the bird and kneeling in front of it. “And I think little Horshack here kinda likes me.”

She held out her hand to it. Horshack squawked, but it was admittedly a lesser squawk than the first. Dana shrugged and backed off.

“Well. Okay. Maybe not.”

Dana got up, threw on her jacket, and grabbed a towel from the bathroom. Nick watched her as she moved lightly back across the room. She laid the towel down at the bottom of the box, then lifted the bird up and put it in. The bird flapped, but allowed her to maneuver it. She stood up and grinned at Nick.

“I’m good at this,” she said, “aren’t I?”

“A natural,” he said flatly. He pulled on his jacket and headed toward the door. “Get the box.”

She picked it up, a bright smile on her face, and followed him out. He could hear her unmistakable giggle behind him as they made their way down the hall, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it.

“Care to share your amusement with the rest of the class, Ms. Wiley?” he asked.

“I was just wondering,” she said, filling her face with mock innocence as he tossed a look back at her, “why your shirt’s untucked, Nick.”

He allowed only a menacing chuckle in response.

“And you’re walking kind of funny,” she continued.

He held the door to the stairwell open for her. “You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

She tossed him a grin as she passed by him. “Sure you don’t want to take a quick shower before we go?”

“No, thanks,” he said.

“I’m pretty sure the cold water works,” she added.

“Don’t think you won’t pay for this, Diz,” he said, “because you will.”

She giggled again. He closed the door and followed her as she bounded down the steps, the bird giving the occasional mild squawk of annoyance as they moved.

***

Babs lay back on the tremendous king-size bed in the Bellefleurs’ guest room and stared into the canopy overhead. She’d been locked in there all afternoon with nothing but horrible daytime television to keep her company. She’d already scoured the place looking for things she might use to pick the lock, but there was nothing. The bathroom was stocked with the finest amenities—including an avocado facial that she’d done an hour earlier to fight the boredom—but not so much as a bobby pin anywhere. They’d taken her purse and jacket, so those resources were gone.

She huffed out a breath and sat up, flicking on the television. Ellen Degeneres was interviewing a chimpanzee. Well. It beat
Jerry Springer
by a mile.

There was a knock at the door. Babs hit mute on the television.

“Come in,” she said. She heard the key move in the lock, then Vivian entered, carrying a large silver tray.

“Hey, Babsie,” she said. “How ya doing?”

Babs stared at her. “I’m being held captive by two of the most irritating people in New York, which is saying quite a bit. How are you?”

Vivian settled the tray on the bed and sat down across from Babs, crossing her feet in front of her. “Oh, come on. Cheer up. You know it’s nothing personal. Here. I brought you your favorite stuff.” She pulled up the silver cover over the platter. “Cheeseburgers. Fries.”

She walked to the door and picked up two large drink cups from the hallway. “Chocolate milk shakes.”

Babs stared at Vivian. “You brought me McDonald’s?”

Vivian grabbed a burger and started unwrapping. “What? You love McDonald’s.”

“Not the point,” Babs said. “I don’t like being cooped up in here.”

“It’s just until tomorrow,” Vivian said. “And I thought we could make it a girls’ night.” She grinned and pulled a DVD out from under the platter. “I rented
Moulin Rouge.”

Babs stared at her. Vivian put her burger down and sighed.

“Look, this whole situation is less than ideal. I know. But we should just make the best of it. And—oh!—I’ll double the fee. Two hundred thousand, just as soon as Gary and I get the money.”

Babs crossed her arms over her stomach, hoping to mask the grumbling it was making in response to the smell of food. She was still too angry to respond to Vivian’s attempts to buy back her friendship—and, obviously, her loyalty. She knew it was only so that Babs wouldn’t go to the police after they returned her.

If
they returned her. Crazy as they were, Babs couldn’t take anything for granted. But Vivian’s paper-thin overtures were getting on her nerves, and all she wanted to do was smack the woman into next Tuesday.

But that wouldn’t get her out of this room. Using Vivian’s desperation against her, however, might. Babs uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, picking a fry off the tray and biting a bit off the end.

“Moulin Rouge,
huh?” she said.

Vivian grinned. “Yeah. You wanna watch it?”

Babs shrugged. “Why not? What else am I going to do?”

Vivian patted her on the knee. “That’s my girl. Make the best of it, right?”

Babs chewed. “Right.”

She watched as Vivian made her way to the armoire and put the movie in the DVD player. Babs grabbed another fry and chewed thoughtfully as she watched Vivian bounce around like a teenage girl.

“Hey,” Babs said after a moment, “why don’t we really make it a girls’ night? We can do manicures. And we can do each other’s hair.”

Vivian bounded back to the bed and sat down next to Babs. “Oh, great! I’m so happy you’re going to enjoy staying with us.”

Babs lowered the wattage on her smile. “I’m not staying with you, Vivian. I’m your hostage, and don’t think I’ve forgotten it.”

The light in Vivian’s eyes dimmed just a bit. Good. Babs’s good feelings had to remain just out of Vivian’s reach if the manipulations were going to work properly.

Babs leaned over and quickly patted Vivian’s knee. “But I recognize that I can sit here and be miserable, or I can make the best of a bad situation.” She reached over and grabbed her milk shake, taking a sip before adding, “There’s this one hairstyle I’ve been dying to try. Do you have any bobby pins?”