A Risky Proposition (6 page)

“That’s Jasper,” I said in chagrin.  “I wasn’t sure if he was allowed, so I kind of snuck him in.”  I watched for her reaction.

Angelica blinked at me, reading the concern in my expression.  “Oh, please don’t worry Miss Corrigan.  I would never abuse your privacy by talking about something I’d seen in your home!  Be it your cat or something more
personal
in nature.”  She grinned suggestively. 

I laughed in relief.  “Thanks Angelica.  And please call me Sydney.” 

“You’re welcome.  He looks like a beautiful animal.  And what interesting markings!  Is he black all over, except for one white spot on the tip of his tail?”

“Yep, pitch black except for that one speck of white ruining all his witchy-ness.”  I smirked.

She gave me an odd look and I got the feeling it was the witch reference.  I made a mental note: 
sex talk okay, but ixnay on the itch-way.

“Anyway,” I continued hurriedly, “thanks again for not ratting me out.”

“Think nothing of it—I believe everyone should have the right to privacy and to conduct their lives the way they see fit…Sydney,” she added with a belated smile.

She switched the vacuum back on and began a thorough sweep of the penthouse.  I watched her for a moment, wondering at her odd choice of words, and then I decided I’d better get to work as well. 

I called Cindy to give her my new phone number and the banking update.  I rolled my eyes and jotted down some things she wanted me to do, like printing and faxing her emails to her, and checking the results of a horse race for Mr. H, who was screaming at her in the background. 

Then I listened to her complain about money for a while before reminding her that the electric and telephone were past due.  I knew she didn’t want to hear it, and therefore it was the quickest way to get her off the phone.  It worked like a charm.

As we hung up, I could hear Angelica humming softly from the hallway.  “You know, Sydney,” she commented as she carried the used bedding to her cart, “depending on your partner’s height, that tall bed of yours would be perfect for certain standing positions.”

I blinked after her in confusion, exhaling in amusement when her words sank in.  She disappeared back into the bedroom, apparently unconcerned with receiving a reply to the observation.

She moved into the kitchen next, which I had barely touched, but she found my tea mug in the sink and stuck it in the dishwasher.  She emptied all the wastebaskets and wiped down the balconies; she even dusted the ceiling fans.  When she was finished, not a fleck of dirt or clutter was left anywhere.  And it had taken her less than an hour.

“Well, I think that’s about everything.  I saw your laundry basket, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready to do a wash.  Would you like for me to start one?”

“No, thanks—I should do something myself or I’ll be
completely
spoiled.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to survive without you again as it is,” I joked.

“It’s my pleasure,” she replied sincerely.  “I actually enjoy cleaning.  There’s something calming and almost sensual about the repetitive physical movements.  So if you need anything, just put a call into Cleaning Services and ask for Angelica.  Otherwise, I’ll plan to come by again on Thursday.”

I thanked her again as I saw her out the door and she pushed her cart into the elevator.  I wasn’t sure about the sensual properties of cleaning, but I fully intended to let Jeremy cover our mortgage for a while and redistribute some of my freed-up cash into tips for Angelica.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 After forcing myself to concentrate on work for a couple more hours, I made my way down to the garage and hopped in my station wagon to pick up some paperwork from Cindy and do the grocery shopping for the week. 

Staying at the hotel cut my usual half hour commute down to five minutes.  It was great, but there was no way I was telling Cindy or she’d have me running errands all day.  I called to let her know I was outside and pulled up near the rear entrance.  I waited for a moment before I saw her bustle backward out the door, calling out, “Yes, Sir!”, no doubt to Mr. H.  My not having to go inside and risk a confrontation with him was part of our working arrangement. 

Cindy was a plumply attractive woman in her fifties with dark blonde hair and grey eyes.  She struck me as someone who’d probably been a cheerleader in high school. 

When I saw her, she usually sported a smile and kept up a rash of convivial chatter.  And she never seemed to stop moving, although that might have had more to do with avoiding her husband’s tirades than anything else. 

Her clothes tended to be rumpled, but she was never without at least one piece of expensive jewelry—supposedly borrowed from D.J.D. to be worn for advertising purposes.  I wasn’t sure how many of those ‘borrowed’ pieces actually found their way back to the store to be sold, though.

She rushed forward when she saw me.  “Hi, Sydney, what’s up?  What a day!  Mr. Horowitz is on the war path.  You brought my checks?  Good.  Thanks.  Here’s your stuff.  Was there anything else…no, I don’t think so.  I’ll talk to you in the morning.”  She handed me my bag of paperwork for the week and hurried back inside in usual frenzied Cindy fashion.

As I was getting back into my station wagon, a black Hummer pulled up next to me.  I smiled and waved briefly at Mickey, Cindy’s seventeen year old son.  The teenager waved back instead of giving me his usual sulky nod, then leapt down from his vehicle and began heading toward my driver side window.

As opposed to the tattered black wardrobe I expected to see hanging from his lean frame, he looked neat in crisp blue-jeans and a red polo-style shirt.  His hair was trimmed so that his blue-grey eyes were visible, and although it was still dyed black, it shone soft and clean, instead of lank and greasy.  He had even removed his facial piercings, leaving only a single stud in his right ear.

He hovered about a foot away grinning at me and I had no choice but to roll down my window. 

“Hey, Mickey, you look a little different than the last time I saw you,” I said with a chuckle of disbelief.

“Hey, Sydney, what’s up?” he asked eagerly.

“Not much, just dropping something off for your Mom.”

“Oh.  That’s cool.”  Mickey bent down to rest his elbows on my windowsill and peered around the inside of my station wagon with interest.  “Nice car, Sydney.  All leather interior?”

My eyebrows drew down together as I stared at him.  “Thanks.  Yeah, it’s leather.  Did you need something?”  I hoped that didn’t come off as rude, but his sudden interest in me was strange.

“Well, actually,” he said, giving me a coy smile that looked wrong on his sallow face, “I was wondering if you’d have a cup of coffee with me sometime.  I mean, I know you’re working right now, but maybe after you get off, or some time this weekend?”

I bit my bottom lip and studied him, working out how best to phrase my response.  “Mickey, you seem like a nice kid.  But I’m not sure your parents would approve of us spending time together on a personal level.” 
Was he asking me out on a date?

“Aw, come on Sydney.  It’s just coffee.  I won’t tell them if you won’t,” he cajoled.  He grinned at me in what I was sure he thought was a charming manner.

I snorted.  “I’m almost twice your age.  Why would you want to hang out with me?  Is there something you want to talk about, or…?”  I trailed off, unsure what else to say. 

“I just think you’re really nice.”  He grinned and took a step back from my car.  “I thought we could talk about my parents and stuff.  I bet they drive you crazy too.”

My eyes widened.  Of course they drove me crazy, but I was their employee, and I wasn’t about to discuss it with their son! 

“Sorry, I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” I replied in a choked voice.  I hit the button to close my window.  “See you later, okay Mickey?” I called as I reversed out of the lot.

“Could my life get any weirder?” I muttered. 

I turned in the direction of the supermarket and tried to shake off the encounter by focusing on my grocery list.  I wanted to make sure I had extra supplies since my friend Sunny was due to fly in from Boston on Friday afternoon.  We had been planning the visit for several weeks, since before the whole Jeremy thing and all the craziness that followed. 

I hadn’t seen Sunny for about a year and I was really excited.  The trip wasn’t only about me—her cousin Rachel was due to have a baby and if she didn’t go into labor by Friday they were going to induce.  But Sunny had promised I could have her to myself for the rest of the time.

I would definitely need to pick up some coffee.  Despite the ‘greet the day cheerfully’ picture her name implied, Sunny required an infusion of strong, black coffee to dezombify herself in the mornings.  There was no way that my usual tea was going to do it for her.

I ran over my list in my head as I pulled into a parking space and prepared to do battle with the afternoon brigade of wealthy Palm Beach shoppers.  This was the only grocery store I’d ever seen that offered valet parking, and the attitude of entitlement carried over from the parking lot into the store. 

Sure enough, a stiff-lipped woman in huge sunglasses and chunky gold jewelry swept past me to grab the last cart.  I sighed to myself and wondered if driving to the less affluent supermarket across the bridge wasn’t worth the extra time. 

I decided against it and walked around to the exit doors to grab another cart.  I was already here, and besides, it wasn’t the woman’s fault that the surgeon had pulled her face too tight for her to smile.

When I passed her again during my first sweep down the dairy aisle, I saw that her expression had turned even more sour.  She was attempting to ignore the fact that the wheels of her cart were intermittently making an awful screeching noise. 

I smirked as I reached to grab a tube of cinnamon roll dough, and froze when Lorien suddenly appeared hovering there next to the image of the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

She grinned and whispered, “See, Sydney—you didn’t want that cart anyway.”

“So nice to see Karma in action,” I mumbled sarcastically.

“Sometimes it just needs a little nudge.”  She winked and then she was gone. 

I’d seen neither hide nor hair of her since Friday night and was beginning to wonder if I had imagined her. 

I snorted quietly and finished up my shopping in a considerably lighter mood.

Chapter 5 – Revelations

“So, do you want to talk about it?” asked my friend Sunny as she stepped off the elevator into the outer foyer of the penthouse, each hand laden with a mismatched overnight bag.

“Not really,” I answered dryly, knowing the ‘it’ was my husband’s infidelity, since I hadn’t told her about the death djinn situation yet. 

She was going to be the first person I told about my recent foray into the supernatural.  I was nervous about how she’d react.  I only hoped she wouldn’t decide that my mind had cracked along with my marriage. 

She followed me through the door, tossed her bags onto a nearby chair, and then assaulted me with a bear hug.  She knocked me backward, despite her smaller frame, as I laughingly returned the embrace.

“Ooh, I missed you so much, Syd.  And this place is amazing!” she exclaimed with an excited twirl that sent her colorful patchwork skirt billowing. 

“How did you end up staying in a penthouse at the most exclusive hotel in Palm Beach?  You promised to tell me when I got here.  You were so mysterious on the phone!”  She brushed a dark curl from her mouth and placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her smoky green eyes at me.

I chuckled.  “Why don’t we sit down and have a drink while I tell you?  That way, if you decide to call the nice people in white coats to come take me away, I can just blame it on the alcohol.”

“I would never!”  She gave me an indignant look and looped an arm through mine, hauling me over to the freestanding bar in the corner.  “So, what’s good for inducing insanity?  Oh, hello Jasper!”  Sunny bent down to briefly scratch behind Jasper’s ears as he twined himself between her legs in greeting. 

I had few close friends that I’d kept in touch with throughout the years, and Sunny was one of them.  We’d known each other since middle school, but had become best friends in high-school.  There was a measles scare and all of the students whose vaccination records weren’t up to date had been quarantined in the school gym for two days while they arranged for mass inoculations. 

Sunny and I spent the entire two days huddled side-by-side on the bleachers, comparing boys, books and music we liked, and talking about everything else under the sun.  I’d never made another friend like her since.

Sunny began rattling glass bottles around as she explored the fully stocked bar.  She whistled in appreciation.  “This is the stuff they keep in the locked cabinet
above
the top shelf.  You’ve finally won the lottery, haven’t you!  That’s it, isn’t it?  I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“How I got into this place is
way
more unbelievable than hitting the lottery.  Champagne?” I suggested, pointing to the mini-fridge built into the bar cabinet.