Crazy in Chicago (19 page)

Janet regarded her with big eyes. “Wow, that's great. Must be fun, too. I take it you believe in aliens, then?”

“Well, I . . .”

Cody interrupted. “Oh, she believes, all right.” He winked; for one horrifying second Roberta feared he would launch into the story of the night he'd discovered her begging any listening aliens to abduct her.

“Did you know that Roberta carries an abduction kit in her car—just in case she happens to be abducted by aliens one night.”

Janet swallowed half her glass of wine in one gulp, then hiccuped. She grinned. “So what's an abduction kit?”

Roberta gritted her teeth and forced a smile. “An abduction kit is simply a small bag of items you'd like to have with you should you be abducted. You know, a change of underwear, a toothbrush, a loaded camera, a tape recorder, paper and pens and pencils. Mostly stuff to allow you to document what's happened.”

Tiffany leaned against Cody. “Wow, you must really get into all that X-files stuff. The Outer Limits.” She shuddered and slipped her arm through Cody's. “I watch those shows, but that stuff gives me the creeps. I'd hate if any of it was actually true.”

Cody reached across and rubbed her arm. “That, my dear, is because you have such a vivid imagination.”

Tiffany directed a sultry look at Cody. “Yes, I guess you're right,” she purred. She appeared to be recalling some event—some intimate event—that she and Cody had shared, and attempting to re-awaken his awareness and interest, too.

If Cody remembered, he didn't show it. Not that it mattered. Roberta gripped her glass so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wanted to dive between Cody and Tiffany, to shove Tiffany aside and cozy up to Cody herself.

Yeah. Sure. That would really work. Roberta took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm the conflicting emotions buffeting her. Jealousy. Anger. Embarrassment. Hurt. She didn't know what upset her more—the joking about her work, or the two women hanging all over Cody.
 

She counted to ten in her head, then reached between Cody and Janet and placed her drink on the bar.
 

“I'm going to the washroom,” she said. “Be back in a moment.” She wouldn't be. The washrooms were down the stairs right near the entrance. No one would notice when she sidestepped the washrooms for the exit.
 

“Oh, good. I'll go with you.”

Roberta groaned. The last thing in the world she needed was Tiffany accompanying her to the washroom.

She trooped to the stairs, aware of Tiffany behind her, swerving gracefully between the tables.

Roberta reached the stairs. As she descended, she composed herself. Maybe she was over-reacting. After all, Cody had done nothing to encourage Tiffany, so there was no point in letting the woman's obvious interest in him get under her skin.

Roberta pushed open the washroom door adorned with a pink plastic female torso. She headed for a stall. Should she rejoin Cody upstairs, or should she leave? If she lingered, Tiffany might finish her business and return, leaving the coast clear for escape.

Roberta waited until she heard Tiffany flush the toilet and leave the stall. After the sounds of water running and paper towels crinkling subsided, she assumed Tiffany had left.

When Roberta opened the door, she saw Tiffany regarding her image in the mirror with a critical air. Laid out across the counter before her were a panoply of tiny bottles of assorted make-up, a hairbrush and a comb.

Tiffany sighed. “Don't you just hate coming to a washroom in a bar? You think you look great, then you come down here and you look like death. Why do washrooms always have such dreadful lighting?”

Roberta shrugged. She had trouble believing Tiffany could look in the mirror and not like what she saw. Roberta already knew how unkind stark bathroom lighting could be to her blonde hair. She didn't plan to look in any mirror.

“I wouldn't worry about it,” she managed. “It's dark up there. You looked great. And you're right. The lighting here is ghastly.”

“D'you think so?” Tiffany swung her glorious mane of hair away from her face. “Because I really did want to impress Cody. This is the first time he's spent any time with me since he disappeared last summer.”

“Oh. Really?” Roberta realized that Tiffany's words confirmed what Cody had told her about his lack of interest in women. At least until now.

“Oh yes. We'd started to get close and then wham, he disappears. And after they found him, well, he was like a changed man. He'd talk and everything, but he didn't seem to be all there. You know, listening, but not listening. Polite but not interested.”

She smiled and straightened the lines of the slim dress she wore under her suit jacket. “But now I think everything's changed.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. Tonight's the night. I can see it in his eyes, in the way he pays attention again, in that special something about him. I can feel it. Tonight's the night we're going to get back together.”

Roberta blanched. Could Tiffany really believe that? She swallowed, then put her hand on her stomach. “Uh, I think I'd better hit the washroom again. My stomach's unsettled. You go up ahead of me. I'll be there soon.”

Tiffany swept the bottles of makeup into her purse. “All right.”

Roberta retreated to the stall and listened for the door. A moment later she heard it shut. She sighed. She couldn't get out of here fast enough.

* * *

Cody glanced at his watch. A quarter to eleven. Quietly he rapped on the door to Roberta's apartment. He hadn't been able to find her anywhere in the bar. She must have come home.

A minute passed with no answer. His stomach tightened. But what if she hadn't gone home? What if something had happened to her? His imagination, fuelled by the accidents and murders he'd seen and written about as a reporter, jumped into high gear. He banged on the door with his fist.

A moment later the door opened a crack. Above the chain, Roberta, her hair tousled and her face bare of makeup, peered out at him. “I'm in bed, Cody. Go away.”

Worry evaporated, replaced by consternation. “Tell me why you left Roxy's.”

“I was tired. Good night.”

He shoved his newspaper into the quickly narrowing opening. “Roberta, I don't want to stand out here in the hall talking to you. I want to know why you left. Where you went. Why you didn't tell me you were leaving.”

A heavy sigh emanated from the other side of the door. “All right. You can come in. But just for a moment.”

She unlocked the chain and opened the door, then stepped aside to let him enter. His breath caught in his throat when he saw that she wore the same blue and white striped boxers she'd worn the night before. Only the white tank top was different, a replacement for the camisole misplaced during their love-making. His gaze dropped to her knees. She'd removed the bandages, but the scrapes remained, a vivid reminder of how she'd entered his apartment.

The memory, along with the sight of her bare legs and feet, her china-doll blue eyes and pink lips, aroused him anew. His irritation dissipated, replaced by the first sparks of desire.

He reached for her, but she stepped away, then crossed her arms tightly across her body. Ouch! Her body language shouted that she wanted him gone. But why?

“You're mad at me,” he said. “Why?”

She didn't look at him. “No, I'm not. I'm tired and I want you to leave.”

He studied her. Everything from her averted eyes to her rigid stance shouted tension. Tension and anger. But why? What had he done?

He stood his ground. “There's more to it than that. Tell me.”

“I told you. I'm tired. Besides, you had plenty of company.”

Cody blinked. Was she saying she was jealous? He couldn't believe it. “That's it, isn't it?” he said slowly. “You were jealous, right?”

Her arms shot to her sides. She glared at him. “Wrong. Absolutely wrong.”

“Well then?” He wasn't letting her off the hook now. “Why did you leave?”

“I . . .” She turned her back on him. “I had planned to tell you last night was a mistake. It wouldn't ever happen again. I couldn't very well do that with an audience.”

“What?” Cody couldn't believe he'd heard right. “What are you talking about?” He looked at her rigid shoulders, but did not touch her.

“I said last night was a mistake. I—I don't know what came over me. I just know it was a mistake.”

If her voice hadn't wobbled at the end, Cody might have believed her. But not now. Not after all they'd shared. Not after the most wonderful night of his life.

He reached for her arm and pulled her around to face him. She stubbornly stared at the floor. He tilted her chin upwards, forcing her to look at him. “We both know it wasn't a mistake. It was a lot of things, very special things. A mistake wasn't one of them.

The tears glittering in her eyes belied every word she'd said. Her lips parted; for a moment Cody thought she was about to admit how much their love-making had affected her.

Instead, she pulled away. “Look,” she said, avoiding his gaze, “we're not right for each other. Let's face it, you think what I do—all this work with aliens—is silly.”

“So?”

“So?” Roberta gestured angrily. “I don't want a man who thinks what I do is hilariously funny. A man who humors me and has no respect for my work. I'm not some silly piece of fluff you pick up for a lark and then discard next week when someone with a better brain comes along.”

“What? What does this have to do with us? What have I ever done to make you think I think you're stupid?” Cody frowned. He couldn't believe what she was saying.

“See? You don't even know what I'm talking about. You and your friends had a great time making fun of my work tonight. Maybe I'm too sensitive, but I don't like it. And I don't have to put up with that from anyone.”

Cody stepped towards Roberta. She backed up. He winced. “Roberta, we weren't making fun of you. I was teasing you. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I know you take it seriously. But I don't believe in aliens. And I can't pretend I do.”

“I know.” Her words ended in a sob. She turned away once more and stood rigidly, her back to him.

He walked to her, stopping only inches away. It took all his control to keep from placing his hands on her shoulders, running the palms along her arms, lowering his mouth to her neck and whispering kisses down to her bare collar bones.
 

Instead, he held his hands clenched at his side. “Roberta,” he said, “I don't think we have to believe the same things in order to have a good time together. I like you. You like me. That's a pretty good start.”

He wished to hell she would turn around. Looking at her back, he had no way to tell what she was thinking or how she was reacting.
 

He reached for her arm but she jerked away. “Yeah,” she said. “You like me a lot.” She whirled around, her face a mask of bitterness. “I can see I make a really good sleeping pill. That's what I can see. And that's no reason to carry on a relationship.”

Cody reacted as if he'd been slapped. “You think I went to bed with you just to help me sleep?”

“Yes,” she spit out. “I guess the milk didn't work.”

Cody couldn't believe what she was saying. “Darlin', if I remember correctly, I didn't seduce you. We both wanted it. And there's nothing wrong with that. We're two mature adults engaging in a mutually-pleasing sexual relationship.”

“Well, I don't ‘engage in mutually pleasing sexual relationships',” she retorted. “I'm not like you. I don't have a new fling every week. Nor do I want one.”

Cody paused. With difficulty, he checked his growing anger. “What makes you think this is a fling?”

“Get real.” Roberta crossed her arms. “Look at you. Look at your history. Let's face it. I was just handy. Next week it will be somebody else. You may be able to do that. I can't.”

“I don't know why you think I'll lose interest. I told you I haven't been interested in anyone else for a year. I don't see why that's going to change. Why don't you give us a chance to let things unfold, just see what happens?”

“Because there isn't any point. I read about you, long before I ever met you. Leopards don't change their spots. Then I saw you at it again last night. Tell me, did you have a good time with Tiffany?”

Cody winced. He hadn't done anything—hadn't even thought of doing anything with Tiffany. Or Janet. “I'm not interested in Tiffany, other than as a co-worker. I'm interested in you.”

“Well, tell that to Tiffany. She seemed to think you were ready to start up an affair right then and there. That's what she told me in the washroom.” Roberta looked at the clock on the wall. “Actually, I'm surprised you're home yet. Or perhaps I should say home alone. What happened, your little plan not work out quite as well as you expected?”