by Maggie Brown
“Pandora…is that your stage name?”
“Yes. Though I prefer to go by it all the time.” She ducked her eyes down to her watch. “Wow, is that the time. I guess we better get back to business.”
“Oh…yes, of course,” said Winter disconcerted at the change of topic. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought but can really only come up with two feasible options,” she began. “You either convince him you’re keen on someone else or tell your boss he’s becoming a pest and ask that he not be allowed into the club.”
“I thought of those but can’t see a way to make them work. You have to understand that Yuri comes from a male domineering family where women are expected to do what they’re told. Though Michael’s not a big spender, unless he causes trouble Yuri’s more likely to tell me to put up with him than refuse him entry to the club. A lot of customers come just to see me.”
Winter gave an exasperated sniff. “Then you’ll have to make out you have someone else. What about your friend the piano player?”
“No. That would only make things awkward between us. He’s never shown that sort of interest in me. I suspect he has a secret lover somewhere.”
“Anyone else?”
“Unfortunately,” said Pandora, “I have a policy never to pay particular attention to anyone for more than one night in the club. It would just cause more trouble.”
“What about somewhere other than the Fox?”
“Somewhere else? But where? I would hardly be anywhere Michael goes.”
Winter shot up in her seat as an idea began to form. “I’ve got it,” she said, taking a sip from her mug to organize her thoughts. “What about here. I could throw a party for my birthday. It’s coming up. All the family will be invited, as well as my friends. You could bring a date.”
Pandora’s eyes widened. “That’s very generous of you.”
“Michael is my cousin so I do have a vested interest. Besides, everyone’s nagging me to get out of the rut I’m in and be more social. It’s a fabulous place for a party and I haven’t thrown one here for years.”
“If you’re prepared to do it, then I’m all in. It should solve the problem. Just as long as the subterfuge is believable.”
Winter eyed her shrewdly. “No reason why not. You know how to put on an act.”
“True. And it would be even better if I turned up holding hands with a woman. If I came to the party with Jessie, he’d have to get the message I wasn’t interested. I’m sure she’d be happy to play the part.”
“I’ve no doubt she’d jump at the chance,” Winter replied crossly. Forcing herself to act off-handed, she asked the question she’d been dying to ask. “Does that mean you…ah…bat for our team?”
Chuckling, Pandora leaned forward in her chair. “What do you think?”
Winter’s pulse danced under the probing glance. “Jessie says you do,” was all she could think to say.
“Ah…Jessie. I imagine her gaydar would be well honed.”
“It is. I, on the other hand, am a bit of a blockhead with things like that.”
This time Pandora laughed full and long. “I can’t imagine you’re stupid at anything. Maybe not so observant but never a fool.” She stood up with a distracting smile. “Now I’d better be off because I’ve a few things to do tomorrow morning, and I imagine you’re always at the office early. Thank you for the lovely evening. The meal was superb.”
Winter barely had time to put her coffee cup down before her guest was at the door. On the porch though, Pandora lingered, shuffling from one foot to the other. “Will you come with the girls to the club on Saturday night?”
For a moment Winter couldn’t think. “I…I haven’t made up my mind.”
“Do come. It should be fun. And you could ask me to the party there in hearing range of Michael. That would make sure he comes.”
“Okay. I guess I can,” said Winter, her cheeks warming when she realized from the coaxing tone that Pandora wasn’t just being polite. She actually wanted her there.
“Good. Then I’ll see you Saturday.” Without warning, she pulled Winter into a quick hug. Before Winter had time to react, Pandora had hurried down the driveway to her car.
Winter stared into the night long after the car disappeared out the gate, her thoughts in a jumble. After spending the evening together, she wasn’t any closer to knowing Pandora. The woman was an enigma. Not only had she deftly avoided answering every personal question, she did so with the ease of a seasoned campaigner.
Winter’s heart thudded in apprehension. Something in her had shifted with the hug, something long dormant.
Desire.
And she didn’t even know Pandora’s real name.
Chapter Seven
The next call from Gussie couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. Saturday lunch definitely didn’t suit. Winter had a late contract to review, which she had hoped to have finished before she met the girls at seven for dinner before they moved on to the club. So much for that. She found it hard to ignore Gussie’s pleading tone. It was her own fault. She should have reported back in person about her trip to the Silver Fox, instead of a quick phone call on Sunday telling her not to worry. She knew Gussie was anxious and would want to discuss it fully.
All the way over, she tossed around how to handle the conversation. In the end, she decided to be vague but positive. Exactly how she had no idea—she’d have to play it by ear. She climbed the two stairs to the front door of the stately house.
When she jammed a finger on the bell, a police siren went off inside the house. It forced a smile—Tracey had been programming the sound effects again. When footsteps sounded in the hall, she tried to wriggle the tightness out of her shoulders. Her body was too tense. Like so many other things in the last few years, she had forgotten how to relax.
Tracey answered the door with a “Heyya, Cus.”
“Hi, Tracey,” answered Winter somewhat distractedly as she took in the outfit. The girl had passed through her grunge stage to a gothic one. Dressed all in black with spiky jelled hair and eyeliner applied so thickly she could have cut it with a knife, she looked like Dracula’s daughter. Winter tore her eyes away from the new shiny tongue stud to ask, “Where’s your mother?”
“In the sunroom. She’s in a real tizz.”
“Right. I’ll see you later then.”
“Kk,” came the reply. Winter heard her following quietly as she walked down the hallway—Tracey had clearly no intention of missing the drama.
The sunroom was bright and airy, delicately scented by vases of flowers scattered around the room. Gussie was sitting in a white cane armchair, her face creased in a frown. “Winter. At last.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Winter caught a flash of black near the potted palm in the corner. It was not lost on Gussie, who called out, “What I have to say to Winter is private, Tracey. I’ll call you out of your bat cave when lunch is served.”
This was met with a sulky, “Whatever.”
“On second thoughts, you can set the table, please.”
The faint “bor—ing” floated on the air as Tracey vanished out the door.
“That girl has her father’s love of the outlandish,” muttered Gussie with a long sigh.
At this statement, Winter involuntarily glanced up at the framed photograph on the wall. Gussie’s husband, Jim, smiled broadly down at them, rugged and devil-may-care handsome in black leather motorbike gear. She looked back at her aunt who was quietly contemplating her with a glint in her eye. She was reminded of the scene in Jaws just before the shark burst out of the water. You know any moment it’ll happen.
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Winter began, getting in first, “but I’ve been extra busy at work this week.”
“Really, Winter? You knew this was important. I’ve been off my mind with worry. You told me nothing on the phone.”
“Hardly nothing. I went there as you asked. I even met the woman and found her very nice. Certainly not some predator. I told you there was n
othing to worry about. She barely paid Michael any attention.”
Gussie puffed up until the veins in her temple stood out, a sure sign she was ready to explode. “Nothing to worry about!” she exclaimed. “For your information, we had a blazing row Sunday morning and he hasn’t been back since. He has it in his head that I sent you there to turn this woman against him.”
“Well…you did,” Winter reminded her. She didn’t like how this was heading. The fault was going to be dumped solely on her head.
“That’s not the point,” snapped Gussie. “You should have been more discreet.”
“Discreet! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Apparently, you and your friends drank with her all night. I merely asked you to watch quietly from the sidelines, not party on with her.”
“Her name is Pandora,” said Winter, trying to tamp down her rising anger.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. Not a name I’d forget in a hurry.”
“Then I wish you’d use it,” she snapped.
Gussie formed her fingers into a steeple and gave her an appraising glance. “You seem rather taken with this…ah…Pandora yourself.”
Winter returned the gaze steadily, deciding to ignore that last remark. But if Michael had fallen out with his mother then it was time to be frank. The situation was accelerating. Though not an alarmist by nature, she figured it was time to say how it was. “Pandora is a bright, pleasant woman who sings for a living. She is not some man-eating siren as you seem to think. That’s it, end of story. You should accept that and face the real problem. Michael’s infatuation has reached the level of stalking. His feelings are not reciprocated and never will be. If he continues to make a nuisance of himself, it will only lead to big trouble.”
Gussie blinked rapidly at her. “What sort of trouble?”
“The management won’t condone that sort of behaviour for too long. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t find himself bashed up in an alley one night. As far as I’m concerned, he should be mixing with his own age group and not obsessing after a woman way out of his league.”
From the look of dismay on her aunt’s face, Winter knew she hadn’t been expecting her to be so blunt. She thought she’d be upset, but it was worse. Gussie began to crumble. Tears leaked down her cheek as she slumped back in her chair with a low sigh of pain and twisted her hands tightly into a ball in her lap. A wave of compassion immediately quelled Winter’s anger. It had been a long time since she had seen a real crack in the armour of the usually pragmatic, cheery woman. Seeing her reduced to tears was upsetting—misery was not a quality she associated with her aunt. She always appeared so capable.
“Do you think he’s on drugs?” Gussie asked, pulling a tissue from inside her blouse to dab her eyes.
Winter gazed at her sympathetically. Like every mother, her aunt was terrified of drugs. It was an adversary bigger and stronger than her, a fight she knew she would lose. “Noooo. What gave you that idea?”
“It’s out of character for Michael. He has always been such a steady boy.”
“I’m positive he’s not on drugs,” Winter said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “He’s just fixated on an unavailable woman and needs to back away.”
This seemed to satisfy Gussie for the minute. “What can we do to get his mind off her?”
Noting the we, Winter felt a dull ache begin in the ball of her neck. Whether she liked it or not, she was expected to help. It was just as well she had planned to. “I’ve given it some thought. The best solution would be if he found out Pandora was already involved with someone else.”
“Is she?”
“No. But Pandora and I had a chat about it.”
“Really? You’ve become that friendly with her?”
When she caught the sceptical look, Winter leaned forward in her chair to emphasise what she had to say. “He made a fuss like a spoiled brat when he saw me talking to her. Believe me, she is sick and tired of his attentions. Because he’s a customer she can’t tell him to get lost, but she wants him off her back.”
“Did…” Gussie took a hitching breath, “did the two of you come up with any ideas?”
“I’m giving a party at my house for my birthday and she’s coming along with a date. That should get the message across.”
“Really? That’s very generous of you, Winter.”
“I have another motive. It’s about time I got back into the social scene. I’ll ask family as well as a few friends, so that will include Michael.”
“He won’t go. You’re not his favourite person at the moment,” said Gussie morosely.
“He will. We’re off to the Silver Fox again tonight and I’ll make sure he knows Pandora is invited.”
“You’re going again? That’ll make things worse.”
“I’ll do what I please,” Winter retorted. “Besides, I have to go if the plan’s going to work.”
Gussie moved restlessly in her chair. “I don’t know if I want to meet the woman. Even taking in all you said, I still can’t help holding her partly to blame for flaunting herself in front of the boy.”
“For shit sake, Aunt, she’s a lounge singer. What do you expect? Michael needs to damn well grow up,” Winter exclaimed.
“There’s no need to get onto your high horse. You’re not a mother, so you wouldn’t understand. Now let’s have lunch. You go in…I want to freshen up before I eat.”
Winter watched her go upstairs before turning toward the dining room.
Tracey was shuffling her feet by the table when she entered. “How’s Mum holding up?” she asked with a wan smile.
Winter met her gaze, not surprised to find under the teenage defiance there was genuine concern. Gussie always maintained that the girl took after her father, but in truth she had her mother’s resilience. Jim had been flamboyant and outspoken, but Gussie had always been the rock of the family. Once Tracey grew out of her rebellious stage, she would be the sibling her mother would lean on. Winter gently squeezed her shoulder. “She’s fine. I’ll look after things.”
Relief flickered across the girl’s face. “I’m glad she’s got you, Winter.” At the sound of her mother’s footsteps, she sprang back and draped herself over a chair.
Gussie bustled into the room. “Do sit up straight, Tracey. Pour Winter some juice while I serve.”
“Yeah…yeah.” She poked out her tongue to let the light flash on the stud.
Winter smiled. Yep…they are so alike.
Chapter Eight
Pandora skimmed her eyes around the room as she acknowledged the applause. A merry festive atmosphere shimmered through the club that sparkled in every shade of red imaginable. All the stools at the bar were occupied, as well as the seats on the floor. Four waitresses worked the room—Yuri had put on an extra one for the expected crowd and she was pleased to see Frankie working. In glittery low-cut red tops and short skirts, they balanced drinks on the trays with practised skill as they glided through the crowd.
Three men tended the bar: one, young and handsome, openly flirted with a trio of women on stools at the end, another filled beer glasses from the taps, while the last, an older dapper man and a good friend of hers, conjured up a complicated cocktail with clever hands.
She stopped searching when her eye caught the four women at a middle table. When they gave discreet waves, her gaze latched on to Winter’s shapely legs in full view at the end of the seat. She smiled appreciatively. Very nice. A warmth settled in her stomach. Very nice indeed. She just managed to catch herself before she said the last out loud. She pulled herself together quickly when her cue note sounded and launched into her opening song.
She was well into her second number before she noticed that the concertina partition to Yuri’s private alcove at the far end had been folded back. A number of men were drinking inside, Boris prominent in the middle. While he sometimes visited the club, it was only every couple of months that this particular Russian crew came. She guessed some big business was going down, for when they
were due in town Yuri was always extra vigilant about locking his office every time he stepped out.
At the halfway interval of her performance, instead of retiring backstage to rest for the twenty-minute break as per her normal routine, she headed for the bar. Winter was already there as arranged, leaning on the curve diagonally across from Michael and his two friends. Wondering whether he had said anything to Winter, Pandora gave him a curt dismissive nod before she slid in next to Winter and turned her back on him. Thankfully, he took the hint and didn’t approach them.
“Hi,” Winter said with a shy smile. “You look lovely. That red dress is exquisite.”
Normally flattery left her cold, but coming from Winter, Pandora felt a rush of pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you. It’s my favourite gown…I only wear it on special occasions.”
“You should wear red more often, it suits you. Can I get you a drink?”
“I don’t drink until I finish.” She nodded her thanks to the bartender who had already placed a glass of Perrier sparkling mineral water on the coaster in front of her. “I’m glad you came, Winter.”
Winter raised her glass in salute. “Me too. And many thanks for organising our guest passes. There was a huge lineup outside. Most of the people who arrived when we did, had been turned away.”
“It’s a popular night for the city’s Russian community. All Yuri’s family and friends are here, so I’ve promised him I’ll circulate later. Which means unfortunately, I won’t be able to party on with you ladies,” she said with genuine regret.
“We understand.” Winter cleared her throat, then said a little loudly as if nervous, “I’m throwing a party at my home on Sunday week and I was wondering if you’d like to come.”
“I’d love too. It’s one of my nights off. What’s the address?”
As Winter rattled it off, she began to idly stroke the top of Pandora’s hand on the bar with a fingertip. Then flushed pink when she must have realized what she was doing and pulled her finger quickly away. Though acutely aware of the pleasant tingling sensation on her skin, Pandora gave no sign she had noticed. Instead, she gave a tiny toss of the head towards Michael. Winter replied with an imperceptible nod.