by Lee Hollis
Clara perked up too. She claimed to be a fan of Bruce Linney’s crime column in the Island Times, and casually mentioned how handsome he was in his byline photo, having never had the pleasure of meeting him in person.
Neither seemed even remotely concerned that Bruce’s job involved covering local crimes.
Penelope told Gloria, who was hovering by the stove eavesdropping, to find Pam the maid and have some extra towels delivered to Hayley’s room.
That’s when it dawned on Hayley that she and Bruce would be sharing a bedroom.
Of course it made total sense.
After all, Bruce was posing as her boyfriend. Penelope would naturally assume they would want to share the same bed.
How on earth were they going to manage that?
Penelope’s obvious enthusiasm over Hayley having a date also made perfect sense. She was most likely hoping his presence might keep Hayley distracted and out of trouble for the rest of the weekend.
* * *
Bruce arrived within the hour, overnight bag in hand, and bounded into the house like he owned the place, pumping hands and cracking jokes. Penelope was instantly charmed by him and welcomed him as if she had known him for years. Despite his sometimes grating personality, Bruce could slip into any social situation with ease and win over whomever he needed in order to get the information he wanted. That’s what made him such a great reporter.
Hayley showed him to their room, and he dropped his bag on the floor, grabbed a towel and robe, and headed off to find the bathroom to take a shower as it was already close to dinnertime.
Hayley changed into a floral print short-sleeved blouse, her white capri pants, and some low-wedge strap sandals and spritzed some perfume on her neck. She stuffed a wad of Kleenex in her pants pocket because she knew she would never make it through dinner without succumbing to a coughing or sneezing fit.
Bruce returned freshly showered and wearing his plush white robe. He bent over to fish through his bag for a change of clothes. Hayley turned her back to him while he slipped on some khaki pants and a smart blue polo shirt and some Ralph Lauren canvas slip-on sneakers with no socks. He also sprayed on some Calvin Klein cologne, too much in fact, so the scent was overwhelming. Hayley made a point of waving it away as she coughed, more from the cologne this time than from her cold.
Bruce checked his watch. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for cocktails.”
They headed downstairs to the dining room, and just as they rounded the corner, Bruce reached out and grabbed Hayley’s hand.
She flinched at first.
It felt so weird holding hands with Bruce.
But she finally relaxed into it and smiled, pretending it was the most natural thing in the world, as the other guests greeted them.
It took Bruce less than five minutes to bond with Gerard. He complimented him on a recent episode of his show, a culinary excursion to Thailand, a country Bruce had traveled through extensively and knew much about. Gerard lit up, and quickly engaged Bruce in a long conversation about his various adventures, allowing Gerard to talk about his favorite subject—himself.
Gerard eventually waved over his son Tristan, who had been making small talk with Carol, and all three men huddled together in deep conversation.
Left with no one else to talk to, Carol bounced over to Hayley.
“How are you feeling, Hayley?”
“Fine, thank you, Carol.”
“I heard you have a bit of a cold after paddling around in the ocean for so long today.”
“It wasn’t a late morning swim, Carol. I fell overboard,” she said, hitting the word “fell” hard enough so as not to cause another stir by insinuating that she had been violently pushed.
“You know, the proper diet goes a long way in optimizing your health . . .”
“I’ll be sure to pick up one of your books,” Hayley said dismissively.
She was tired of Carol’s rants about the proper foods that she should consume. Her advice only made Hayley want to chow down on a cheeseburger and French fries.
Penelope swept in the room at the appointed hour, smartly dressed in a shrimp-colored button-up tunic, gazebo pants, and high heels. She had a glow about her as if she hadn’t been this happy in years, the death of her husband a distant memory even though he had only died that morning. On her heels were the camera crew hustling into the room behind her, trying to catch various guests greeting her.
Penelope immediately homed in on Bruce, catching his eye, and making a point of welcoming him to the party loudly enough for everyone to hear. The producer signaled the cameraman to get a shot of the new face on the scene.
When the guests all took their places at the table, Penelope insisted Bruce sit next to her and across from Gerard, who was now his best buddy, the two already planning a foodie trip to China. Hayley was shunted to the end of the table between Carol and an empty seat that had probably been reserved for Conrad before his unexpected plummet over the side of a cliff.
Carol managed to turn her back slightly to Hayley, and spent most of the meal chatting with Tristan, so Hayley ate quietly, nodding and laughing at the jokes made closer to the head of the table, pretending to be enjoying her meal when what she really wanted was to be in bed recovering from this beastly cold.
Bruce, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He soaked up the attention and relished entertaining everyone with his maverick journalist stories. Some of them were actually true. Bruce had a knack for embellishing his accomplishments from time to time. Once when he located a local embezzler who had fled Maine to a condo in Fort Myers, Florida, he called the local authorities and they went over and arrested him without incident. But by the time Bruce published his story, he made it appear in his article that he had gone down there himself, wrestled the perpetrator to the ground, and personally handcuffed him and delivered him with much fanfare back to the local courthouse to stand trial for his crimes. There was also no mention that the guy was eighty-seven years old and needed an oxygen tank because of his emphysema.
Hayley managed to struggle through the evening until dessert. Clara arrived, her eyes dancing at the sight of Bruce, and offered him one of her small homemade eclairs from a tray of sweets she had personally prepared. Bruce popped it in his mouth, the cream filling oozing out onto the sides of his mouth. He moaned rapturously, and paid Clara the utmost compliment by immediately grabbing another. Everyone laughed, and Clara nearly toppled over from swooning.
It was more than Hayley could take.
She was about to excuse herself when Clara, having gone around the room, finally landed next to her.
She stiffly held out her tray. There were only two sweets left since Carol had demurred, not wanting that much sugar in her delicate system.
A cream puff and a fudge nut brownie.
Hayley eyed them both, but she knew her stomach was still weak from the food poisoning, and so she just smiled slightly and shook her hand. “No, thank you, Clara.”
Clara’s eyes flared, insulted at being so overtly disparaged. She leaned down and whispered in Hayley’s ear. “What’s the matter? Do you think I poisoned these too?”
Hayley locked eyes with her.
Did she just admit to poisoning the mussels?
And was she trying again, hoping to finish the job this time?
“Or would you prefer it if I brought out a fresh batch of mussels?” Clara sneered.
Just the idea of mussels made Hayley’s stomach turn, and she stood up quickly, excusing herself, and made a mad dash to the bathroom, coughing and hacking the whole way.
Would this weekend ever end?
And when it did, would she still be alive?
Chapter 17
By the time Hayley finally made it back to the room, Bruce was already there rifling through his overnight bag for a Ziploc bag of his toiletries.
Hayley stumbled toward the bed ready to do a face-plant right into the center of it.
“Want to flip a coin to see
who gets the bed?” Bruce asked casually. “You have a fifty-fifty chance of winning.”
“I don’t need to flip for it because there is a one hundred percent chance that I will be under those covers fast asleep in less than a minute.”
“I was joking. Of course you can have the bed!”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
Bruce looked around. “I don’t know. Probably the floor.”
He knelt down and tapped the floor gently with the palm of his hand.
“Now I know why they call them hardwood floors . . . because the wood . . . it’s really hard.”
Hayley felt a twinge of guilt.
She didn’t want him up all night tossing and turning on a hard, dusty floor.
Sighing, Hayley waved at Bruce to get up.
He stood upright again and looked at her expectantly.
“You can share the bed with me. Just stay on your own side.”
“No, I don’t want to do anything that might make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Honestly, I don’t mind you sleeping in the same bed with me.”
“No, I mean staying on my own side,” Bruce quipped.
“Very funny, Bruce! Can’t you see how hard I’m laughing?” Hayley quipped, stone-faced.
“The floor’s fine. Really,” Bruce said getting down on his knees and walking around on all fours to find the perfect spot. He turned around in a few circles while he debated.
“You’re worse than my cat Blueberry trying to find a spot to lie down,” Hayley said, yawning. “Are you sure you’re okay down there?”
“Yes, no worries. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes, Hayley, I’m sure.”
“All right then,” Hayley said, watching Bruce stretch out on his back on the hardwood floor. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Bruce said, staring at the ceiling.
Hayley shut off the lamp that was on the dresser next to the bed and slid deeper underneath the covers and burrowed her head in the stack of lace pillows.
“Oh, this is going to kill my back!” Bruce cried in the darkness.
Hayley sat up and snapped the light back on. “Get in the bed, Bruce,” she sighed.
Bruce popped up to his feet with a big grin on his face. “Thanks, Hayley.”
He began unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Hayley asked.
He was now shirtless and working on his belt buckle.
“Getting undressed.”
“Well, how far are you planning to go?”
“Actually, all the way. I like to sleep in the nude.”
Hayley opened her mouth to protest but Bruce held up a hand.
“Relax, I’ll stop at my underwear.”
“You didn’t pack pajamas?”
“What am I, twelve? No, Hayley. I obviously didn’t think this through. I never expected to be sharing a room with you.”
Bruce shimmied out of his pants and stood before Hayley in nothing but his Calvin Klein briefs.
“I always pictured you as a boxers kind of guy,” Hayley said, unable to resist staring at his surprisingly well-worked-out body.
“Yeah, well I’m a briefs man. You got a problem with that?”
“No, not at all.”
Bruce went around the side of the bed and climbed in, drawing the comforter up over him and turning his back to Hayley.
“Good night, Hayley.”
“Good night, Bruce.”
Hayley reached over and once again shut the lamp on the dresser off.
She shut her eyes and snuggled deep inside the covers and was just about to drift off to sleep when Bruce sneezed.
The sound and force of it nearly caused her to fly out of the bed and find shelter underneath a doorway as if she were in the middle of an earthquake, but she remained in her sideways sleeping position.
She closed her eyes to try again.
Bruce sneezed, even louder this time.
And then he sneezed three more times in quick succession.
She could hear him rummaging around for a tissue.
Hayley sat up in bed, reached over, and once again turned on the light. “Don’t tell me I gave you my cold already?”
Bruce was sitting up in bed, covering his face with a wad of Kleenex.
He shook his head.
“This isn’t a cold. This is my allergies.”
“What are you allergic to?”
“Cats.”
Hayley shot out of bed and searched the room. “Sebastian! He must have snuck in here and is hiding somewhere.”
Bruce sneezed again and rubbed his watery eyes. “Oh, this is bad. Hayley, you have to find that cat or it’s just going to get worse!”
“I’m looking! I’m looking!”
She dropped to her knees and peered under the bed.
Sure enough, there was Sebastian, crouched down, staring out at her, incensed over the intrusion of this unwanted guest.
“Come here, Sebastian! Be a good kitty and come to Hayley!”
Hayley stretched her arms out to try and pull Sebastian out, but he backed away out of her reach, growling and hissing.
“Did you get him?”
“Not yet. He’s not being very cooperative,” she said before making kissing sounds as if that might entice him to come out from underneath the bed.
“Well, hurry! I’m dying here!”
“I’m doing my best!” Hayley was flat on her stomach, shoving herself farther underneath the bed, trying to get within reach of Sebastian. Her fingers managed to wrap around his swishing tail. Sebastian hissed some more and took a swipe at Hayley with his claws, which caught the tip of her finger, drawing blood.
“Ouch! All right, you have officially worn out your welcome!” Hayley wailed, quickly withdrawing her hand and scooting back out from under the bed. She looked at Bruce, who had splotches of red on various parts of his arms and legs and looked miserable as he continued to sneeze and blow his nose.
“Bruce, do you have something to lure him out with, like a feather or something?”
“Yes, Hayley, I have my complete collection of feathers in my overnight bag. No, I don’t have a frigging feather! I wasn’t expecting to share a room or have playtime with a cat tonight!”
“Okay, calm down! I’ll find something!”
Hayley remembered something.
Her laser pointer that her son Dustin had given her one Christmas.
Cats loved those!
She raced to her bag and foraged through it for the pen. Unable to immediately locate it, Hayley, flustered and frustrated, upended the bag and spilled the contents all over the bed. A cascade of loose change, keys, chewing gum, paper clips, rubber bands, lip gloss, sunglasses, chocolates, and pepper spray poured out. Finally, the last item out, as if not wanting to see the light, was the pen. It tumbled out and landed softly on the comforter.
Hayley scooped it up, dropped back down to her knees, and began jiggling the pen around so the red light danced around Sebastian, whose head was spinning at a dizzying pace as his eyes followed the laser. He tried stopping it with his paw but it was frustratingly elusive. Hayley moved the light slowly so Sebastian could keep his eyes glued on it as it moved out from under the bed.
Unable to resist, Sebastian scampered out after it.
Hayley dropped the light and made a mad grab for Sebastian, but he slipped through her fingers and darted across the room right in Bruce’s direction.
Bruce recoiled at first, but he knew he was the only chance to stop the cat before it circled around and scurried back underneath the bed.
He reached down and plucked the Persian cat right off the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away, holding the cat at a full arm’s-length distance, letting Sebastian dangle in front of him, as Bruce raced to the door. Sebastian was so stunned by his sudden capture he became completely submissive and didn’t even try to struggle.
Bruce fastened him to his
chest with one arm and reached out to open the doorknob with the other. When he yanked open the door, Lex Bansfield stood there, his knuckles up as if he was just about to knock on the door.
Lex stared at Bruce, who was holding a cat in his arms and wearing just his underwear.
“I swore I was at the right room,” Lex said, dumbfounded.
Hayley suddenly appeared next to Bruce. “No, it’s the right room, Lex. What are you doing here?”
“I just came by to see if you needed anything. I’m heading into town early tomorrow morning. Maybe some more cold medicine or aspirin?” he asked, glancing at Bruce, who was tensing up and about to let loose with a massive sneeze.
And then he did.
Right in Lex’s face.
Bruce was still holding Sebastian, who was now wriggling to free himself, so he didn’t have a hand free to cover his mouth. Bruce set Sebastian down on the floor and then tapped his butt, which surprised the cat enough to send him hurtling out the door and down the hall in a panic.
Bruce looked at Lex. “Sorry.”
Lex wiped his face with a handkerchief he had pulled out of his back pocket. “Guess you caught Hayley’s cold.”
Hayley could only imagine what Lex must be thinking as he considered just how Bruce had caught Hayley’s cold.
“It was the cat! Bruce is allergic to cats!” Hayley blurted out, a bit too quickly.
Lex nodded. “Allergic to clothes too apparently.”
Bruce, who had slightly recovered from his allergy attack now that Sebastian had dropped the mic and left the stage, put an arm around Hayley and with a sly smile, said to Lex, “I’m her boyfriend.”
“Oh, I see,” Lex said, eyeing Hayley disappointedly, now convinced she had lied to him when she had told him she was single.
Bruce tightened his grip on Hayley’s shoulder and pulled her closer to him either protectively or possessively, she couldn’t tell which one it was.
“Sorry to bother you, folks. You have a good night,” Lex said, slowly backing out of the room.
“Night,” Bruce said, waiting until Lex had cleared the doorway and was safely out in the hall before he slammed the door shut.
Exasperated, Hayley spun around to Bruce. “Why did you tell him you’re my boyfriend?”