Seaspun Magic (14 page)

Serving the beautiful late dinner—Rae was already tucked in bed and asleep—Arianne was somewhat edgy, hoping Larry wouldn't start pressing for more interest on her part. But she need not have worried. He was more intrigued with her ESP, it seemed, than her body. Answering his hundreds of questions was fun at first, but toward the end of the evening she began to feel vaguely uncomfortable, rather like an insect on a pin. No, that wasn't quite right. She felt more like a dog on a leash being taught tricks.

She couldn't wait until he left, and even though she became a little short with him, in his single-mindedness he didn't notice. It was as if he'd prepared an exam to determine exactly what she was capable of doing with her powers.

The exam ran the gamut of questions. How many men were there in his platoon? How much money did he have in his wallet right this minute? What was written on the door of his barracks? What was the name of his superior officer? Was this superior officer going to get transferred soon?

"Why?" and Arianne laughed. "Do you want to get rid of him?"

"Quit wasting time, just give me the answer!"

She looked at him, her big black eyes puzzled. "Um..." She tried to concentrate on the last question. "I—I'm not sure. I see a change coming soon, but I don't know, Larry."

"Try again. Keep on trying," he persisted.

Arianne was tired, ready to talk about something else for a change. "I just don't know."

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he pushed.

Arianne planted her elbows on the table and rested her forehead on her hands. She forced herself to relax, drained all other thoughts out of her mind and let herself float away. The answer fell into her consciousness like rain. "Corporal Edward Lewis Maitland will be transferred somewhere on the eastern seaboard next July." She opened her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

Larry grinned disarmingly. "We don't get along. Next July, you say? I can bear him cheerfully till then."

"But you won't know whether I'm right till then, either," she pointed out.

"I can stand the suspense. Here's a trick question for you. What's the password to ring one?"

"What on earth does that mean?"

"Never mind, just try to answer. See what comes up. Password. Ring One. Got it?"

Sighing, Arianne shook her head, "That's enough, Larry, I'm tired. You've exhausted me."

"Just this one more," he coaxed.

"No, please, Larry, not tonight."

"Come on, Arianne! You can't stop now!"

An urgency in his tone caught at her. "Is it so important?"

He was slightly taken aback. "Wha-at? Oh, no... no." Laughing, he added softly, "Give it one more try, darling, come on, just one more. Please."

Running both hands through her abundant curls, her eyes angrily sparkling, Arianne replied stubbornly, "No!"

She had startled him. He was so good-looking she was sure he usually got his way, if not with his superior officer, then with most women. But he wasn't annoyed. Instead he smiled at her, held her gaze and asked her out to a concert and dinner in Seattle this coming Thursday night. And as always, he had already arranged for Jill to baby-sit that night. Arianne had to admit to feeling somewhat churlish and ungrateful in the face of such thoughtful, attentive behavior, but when he tried to kiss her good-night she couldn't help herself from turning away and quickly closing the door.

***

In Seattle there were candles, red roses and vintage wine on the table. The food was outrageously expensive and of the best quality. Arianne thought with a dry smile that her fairy godmother must have waved a wand over her head until Larry said smoothly, between the goose-liver pâté and the escargots, "Darling, about the password for ring one, do you think you could use some of your special magic to find it for me?"

"No. I don't feel like it," she returned breezily. She was surprised at his easy acceptance of this statement. Wasn't he going to pester her tonight?

He took up his queries after she'd enjoyed the long and luxurious meal, several glasses of wine and was presently savoring a particularly potent Spanish coffee.

"It's so vague, Larry, can't you give me anything more to go by? Ring one—what does that mean?"

"This is the toughest question I've devised for you so far. I doubt you'll get it, but I'm not going to tell you more. This is purely a test of your capabilities. It doesn't actually mean anything, but there is an answer."

A little later, when he'd ordered her another Spanish coffee, which she didn't really want, she said suddenly, interrupting him, "The password is 'bobsled.'"

"'Bobsled'! 'Bobsled'?" His brow wrinkled. "Arianne, are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure! It's bobsled. Now can't you tell me what this is all about?" But he smoothly changed the subject.

Later, they didn't stop in to see her mother because Arianne was certain her mother wouldn't like Larry— he wasn't one of them. Instead Larry drove her straight home, a comfortable hour's journey.

At least it would have been comfortable, had Larry not chivied her to come up with the passwords for rings two, three and four. He hadn't had very much to drink since he was doing the driving, and Arianne, taking a sidelong look at her date, began to think she'd been set up: the fancy dinner in the plush restaurant, his valid reason for not drinking while he plied her with wine... how could she remain uncooperative when he was being so generous and charming? And he was charming, for the most part.

Leo had been charming, too, but with him it had been different. His charm sprang from a definite vibrant character, whereas there was something insubstantial about Larry that bothered her every now and then. No matter how she treated him he wouldn't get angry; he just kept getting nicer.

That night she didn't invite him in, but sent him away with the excuse of a headache. She didn't let him kiss her good-night, not even a little peck on the cheek. To see if she would get a response out of him, instead of thanking him for the lovely concert and extravagant dinner, she crabbed about everything.

Larry smiled and smiled and ever so nicely suggested she get a good night's sleep. He didn't seem the slightest bit impatient to make love to her, but he kept professing to be smitten! Instead of a peck on the cheek, he raised her hand and brushed his lips against her white skin and asked her out for brunch Sunday morning.

Arianne didn't know what to make of him, and she told Jill as much when she collected Rae on Friday morning.

"He sounds fabulous, Arianne. What are you complaining about?" Jill cried. "Are you crazy, or what? There must be hundreds of women who'd give anything to have a guy like Larry, and you—you're not satisfied! What more do you want?"

"But—"

"He's not one of these here-today-and-gone-tomorrows! He's not a bum or a drunk or an idiot!"

"Of course he's not, but—"

"He's gorgeous to look at, he's smart, he makes good money—don't tell me you didn't like riding around in his car! Huh! Being chauffeured around in a beautiful brand-new red Corvette and you're not satisfied!"

"Of course his car is nice, but—"

"Eating out in the plushest restaurant in all Seattle and you turn up your nose! What do you expect to get way out here in the boonies? Sure, there are lots of fish in the sea, but you find me one with a steady job and a red Corvette!"

"It's just that—"

"Oh, Arianne! He's even in love with your ESP! Far from minding it, he thinks it's adorable. He's so crazy about you he's taking a class in psychic studies so that he knows what you're all about, so he can carry on an intelligent conversation with you! Wouldn't I just love to find a man who'd study hairdressing simply because I'm a hairdresser!"

"That reminds me, Jill. Why did you tell Larry I had ESP? I really wish you hadn't! He's done nothing but bug me about it ever since! You promised you wouldn't tell!"

"It just popped out by accident!" Jill explained quickly, not meeting her eyes. "I'm so sorry, honest I am, but I didn't realize what I said till I said it!"

Arianne accepted the apology with as much grace as she could muster, but she was still rather annoyed inside. Her neighbor didn't seem to think informing Larry was too important. She continued on about her ex with hardly a pause.

"When I think of the turkey I had the first time around! Remember I told you how he fooled around on me all the time? Well, there I was, with Erin to look after—do you think he could spare me a dime? Uh-uh. Not a chance. He was no good and I couldn't see that. I gave him money, if you can believe that! What was his was his and what was mine was his. Boy, I was stupid! It just kept getting worse! He was greedy, he stole from the—the company he worked for, and got caught. What he stole wasn't much and they didn't make a big deal about it, but he lost the promotion he was supposed to get and..."

Arianne said nothing, but by now she had dismissed her annoyance as a petty grievance in light of Jill's disclosures. All she had to do was look at her friend's face to feel her pain.

"And when I think of you now with Larry wound around your little finger, and all you can say is, 'He's too nice.' Well, Arianne, honey, I'm not too sympathetic! In comparison to my life, yours has been easy! Damned easy!"

Sitting there in Jill's bright kitchen, with the sudden silence tense with her bitterness, it occurred to Arianne that her friend was jealous. Maybe exactly what was happening to her was happening to Jill. While she wanted one man, another wanted her. While Jill wanted Larry, it was Don who brought her flowers.

Larry was Don's best friend. It was easy to see the scenario. And Larry seemed to be on good terms with Jill, her friend as well as Don's. Arianne groaned inside. If she could only put Larry on a silver platter and hand him to Jill, she would do so gladly. Because she honestly didn't give a damn about him one way or another, nice as he was.

It was difficult for Arianne to ask Jill to baby-sit for her Sunday morning while Larry took her to brunch. But Larry had already paved the way for her, she found. Arianne now saw how Larry's 'thoughtfulness' was like rubbing salt on a wound as far as Jill's feelings were concerned.

All during brunch Arianne went on about how terrific her friend was, and listed Jill's graces by the dozen, while Larry went on about how Arianne's ESP powers had been right on. He was ecstatic with her success.

"Right on the money!" he said enthusiastically, smacking one hand into the other. "Right on the money! You're the greatest thing since—"

"Please don't say sliced bread! Jill makes fantastic bread. Have you ever had a slice of Jill's homemade bread?"

Larry grasped her hand. "How about the password for ring two. C'mon, you can do it."

"What is this password stuff you're always on about, Larry? It sounds like some sort of medieval treasure hunt!"

He chuckled richly. "It's just a little game me and the boys are playing, no big deal, but it's fun. C'mon, give it to me. Concentrate now, just like you did before."

Arianne looked at Larry steadily for a moment, then blinked quickly and glanced away. There was something gnawing in the pit of her stomach, a strange feeling of, of... she couldn't fathom what it was exactly that bothered her, but something wasn't right. However, she knew Larry was going to persist until he got his answer, while she didn't even want to try for it. Furthermore, if she gave him correct answers time after time he would pester her more and more. The answer to her problem came to her. She would give him false answers and pretty soon he would be convinced all this ESP stuff was a bunch of nonsense.

"I have it—the password is 'mosquito.'"

He beamed happily. She supposed he had been using her to line his pockets. It was what most people wanted to use her powers for. He probably had some bet going with 'the boys.'

That was one thing Leo had never tried. He had never used her in any way. That one heavenly night was as much her fault as his, for she could have put a stop to it had she wanted to. Arianne wondered soberly, if Leo instead of Larry were opposite her, would she still be able to refuse her help.

Larry was on duty later that afternoon. Right after brunch, therefore, they stopped at Jill's house to collect Rae. Her neighbor was in a sunny mood and appeared not to mind when Larry stayed to carry Rae home for Arianne. It was pouring rain again, and they would have all been soaked had they let Rae toddle along. He asked her out during the week to come, but Arianne didn't commit herself. She was a little amused by his surprise. Larry obviously never had trouble getting dates.

Relieved at the lift in Jill's spirits, Arianne invited her over later that afternoon to do some Christmas baking together, seeing as it was the first of December. Her friend had stopped coming over as often as she used to, and Arianne missed her usually cheerful company. She didn't want a mere man to ruin their friendship!

She watched Larry hurry back in the rain toward Jill's house, and was further surprised to see him enter the house rather than hop into his red Corvette and tear off. She turned from her kitchen window, smiling. Hopefully Jill would use the time to her advantage....

Jill had said she would be over by four; when it was five and her friend was still nowhere in sight, Arianne began to worry that she might not come at all. Larry's car had stayed outside her house for almost an hour earlier this afternoon. Maybe Jill was now feeling guilty about vamping her neighbor's boyfriend. Arianne decided if Jill didn't arrive by six, she would go looking for her.

At just a little after five her front door knocker sounded. Her hands were dusted with flour from kneading the stollen—a fruit-and-nut-filled sweet bread made from a German recipe she'd inherited somehow. She didn't stop to wash, but went right down the hall to see who it was. Probably the Little League, Arianne thought, taking a collection for their Christmas over-seas orphan fund. They had come around to the shop the other day. As soon as she turned the doorknob, careful not to get it all floury, a figure stepped into the splash of light from the hall and Arianne gasped.

This time he was wearing a red leather jacket, a jacket very casually, inobtrusively stylish, as soft and supple as chamois. Narrow black cords and high boots for the inclement weather and a gray-and-red-striped sweater completed the outfit. He blew Arianne's ordered world apart with sheer panache. There was something about Leo Donev that seemed to make every cell in her body sit up and take notice.