The Complete Where Dreams

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The Complete Where Dreams Page 70

by M. L. Buchman


  “Okay,” she didn’t know quite what to say, but she knew it was up to her to say it. “Mr. Bill Cullen, you listening?”

  He nodded against her neck.

  “Between this non-toxic but whack-a-doodle gal… ”

  “You heard that,” he mumbled into her neck.

  “I heard that. Between her and this fallible human guy, we’re striking a deal.”

  “What?” he nuzzled her collarbone and almost stole her breath away.

  “There is never a question of right or wrong. Okay?”

  He froze, locked in place against her, his hands almost brutally tight on her for just an instant in his shock. Then he eased off, slowly sitting up until they were face to face just inches apart.

  “That’s what Adira always said. She was the wisest woman I’ve ever known.”

  Perrin knew she wasn’t wise, but she was smart enough to know when she’d just received the highest compliment of her entire life.

  She didn’t try to kiss him again. She simply pulled his head back to her shoulder and cradled him there, until a while later when he finally said he had to go and fetch his daughter.

  Just inside the darkened doorway from her shop, he did take a few minutes to show her just how much he appreciated her.

  After locking the door behind him and watching him drive off, she thought about how much she appreciated him. The aftermath of his final kiss and a caress that said just exactly what he hoped to be doing with her in the very near future still heated her body deliciously.

  Chapter 7

  “Cassie!” Perrin sprinted through the lobby crowd at the final performance of Turandot. Cassidy had worn her black turtleneck and the sunset sweater that Perrin had picked out for her so long ago to totally slay her future husband on their first blind date. She’d finished it with a flirty black skirt and the knee-high boots that made her look so fabulous.

  Cassidy turned just as Perrin crashed into her. She kissed Cassidy hard on the lips.

  “I hope Russell won’t be jealous, but I’m just so glad to see you.”

  Cassidy reeled a bit, but went with the flow as she always did, “Glad to see you too. Wish Jo was here so that we could really make it a night out.”

  “I know!” Perrin stamped her foot and noticed just how much of the local crowd was grimacing at their PDA, like public display of affection was a crime even in Seattle. So, she raised her voice enough to be clearly heard, “Just like that shrew to run away from us and get married.”

  The crowd rippled away from them in a slow wave of evening gowns and suits. The mezzanine and two balconies offered prime views of the main floor. Sure enough, when Perrin looked up they were being the center of attention.

  She spun in a whirl. She’d been inspired by the leprechaun outfit and made a Marilyn Monroe The Seven Year Itch pleated skirt of the flowiest bright yellow-and-green rayon to go with the green-and-yellow blazer, though she’d left the shirt off this time revealing skin down to her solar plexus. She finished the whirl and stumbled into Cassidy.

  “Let ‘em dream,” she whispered. “Bet half the guys here will be fantasizing about us tonight, not knowing we’re both totally straight. Think they’d be disappointed if they knew?”

  Cassidy offered one of her staid smiles.

  “Sorry, you’re all jet-lagged. I haven’t a brain in my body. You sure you’re okay with sitting through an opera?”

  “I’m here.”

  Perrin gave her another hug, this time as if she were fragile, “You can always sleep on my shoulder, you just can’t weep there.”

  Cassidy blinked at her as if finally coming awake while they climbed the sweeping grand staircase up to the mezzanine entry level.

  “Uh, Perrin. What did I miss? You seem even more Perrin than usual.”

  “I met a guy.”

  “I’m shocked,” her tone was drier than one of her wines that she critiqued for a living.

  “I met a nice guy.” Not the right reaction yet. “A nice guy with kids.”

  “That’s sweet… Wait! You did what?” Cassidy finally caught up with the conversation.

  “I know! Shocked me to all hel—. Oh, I’ve have to stop saying that in case I run into his kids.”

  “Here? There are never kids at the opera.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Cassidy grabbed her arm and turned her toward the glass and steel rail of the mezzanine level. They leaned on the rail. Down below was the main lobby they’d just climbed up from, still milling with people. A wall of glass five or six stories high showed the outdoor steel scrims. Huge sheets of a fine mesh filled the gap between the opera hall and the next building over, starting twenty feet in the air and climbing to the very top of the structure. They were lit with a bright flow of dancing colors across the mesh. Like a slow kaleidoscope of spring colors.

  “How do they do that?”

  Cassidy glanced at it, then back at Perrin. “Magic. Who cares? Now spill. I’ve only been gone for five days. What in the world is up with you?”

  Perrin clamped both hands on the top of the rail and sort of pumped herself back and forth. It was all she could do to control the energy bottled up inside her.

  “He’s really nice. And so awesomely decent. You know Hogan?”

  Cassidy looked at her in utter exasperation. “Maria’s Hogan? The man who married the woman who practically raised my husband? The one we all have dinner with every Tuesday evening? That Hogan?”

  “Yeah, that one,” she loved that she was making Cassidy totally nuts. That would pay her back for being out of the country when Perrin needed her so badly. “Well, I think he may even be more decent than Hogan.”

  “Uh,” Cassidy stopped as she thought about it. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  Perrin slanted her best friend a look.

  “Okay, prove it.”

  For the first time Perrin focused on the three-story tall mobile that hung just out of reach. It was made of extension ladders and measuring tapes. It was filled with hammers, pliers, saws, bits and pieces of all the tools she’d been shown in the scenery shop. And a bunch of stuff that looked electrical.

  “That’s a pretty crazy mobile, don’t you think?”

  “Perrin!” Cassidy’s voice was practically a she-lion snarl. Maybe it was time to answer. But she couldn’t quite resist and answered the question with another question.

  “You know how you told me after your first time with Russell that really great lovemaking is even way better with the right man?”

  “Yea-ah… ” she drew it out cautiously.

  “Despite every opportunity and encouragement, last night I may have had the best time of my life and… ”

  “And what, Perrin?”

  “We never even took our clothes off.”

  Cassidy blinked at her.

  Perrin could hear Cassidy analyzing this news. She had the same look that she did when she was tasting one of her wines, that discerning palate and mind that had made her one of the nation’s most successful food-and-wine critics before she quit to form the Washington Wine Cooperative.

  Her best friend stared at her for the longest moment and then did exactly what Perrin had been hoping for, praying for, because otherwise she was totally losing her mind and she didn’t know if she was ready to be doing that.

  Cassidy pulled Perrin into her arms and held her tightly. In her ear she whispered, “Oh, I hope so for your sake, Perrin. I really really do.”

  “Hey,” Perrin pulled back and wiped at her friend’s cheek. “You know the rules, no crying or getting drunk unless we’re all together.”

  Cassidy brushed at her eyes and offered a watery smile. “You were right.”

  “I was? Is that a first?”

  “Jo is in such trouble for running off and getting married on us.”

  “We mustn’t tell her or Maria until they’re both back and we can all get together.”

  “Deal,” Cassidy sealed it with a ver
y un-Cassie-like smack on Perrin’s lips. Maybe after a year of being happily married she was finally loosening up a bit and cared less about what others thought.

  It took some doing, but Perrin found their way backstage after the opera. There was a maze of beautifully carpeted corridors and unmarked doors that led to strange linoleum hallways that seemed to lead nowhere. The soft indirect lighting giving way to harsh fluorescents, which meant they were on the right track. Or that they were hopelessly lost and someone would have to send in a search and rescue team after them.

  Racks of clothes lined one side of the white linoleum hallway, and a line of doors along the opposite wall led to small dressing rooms. As they moved along the hall, the costumes became fancier and so did the dressing rooms. She and Cassidy peeked in one that wasn’t occupied at the moment. It had a piano in the corner, an upright, in beautiful condition.

  “Must be what they use to warm up their voices before they go onstage.”

  Then the costumes ended, and a line of cramped offices appeared along the right-hand wall.

  “Hey,” Cassidy pointed at a sign on an open door. “You said Bill was the Stage Manager.”

  Perrin grabbed her hand and dragged her in. “Let’s go peek.”

  It was big enough for a desk, three chairs, and a long whiteboard which was covered in incomprehensible hieroglyphics. “LR#1 blwn gel fres #4. Orch-slo III.2 4st. Strk-7a call,” and dozens of other notations that must mean something to Bill, because they certainly meant nothing to her.

  “His desk is awfully neat. Do we trust a man who has such a neat desk?” Cassidy leaned forward to look at a small framed photograph.

  “I wish I’d brought some really red lipstick. I need to leave a really blatant lip print here somewhere.”

  “Perrin,” Cassidy’s tone brought her up short.

  “What?”

  Cassidy pointed to the picture of two giggling children.

  “That’s Jaspar and Tamara. What does that have to do with lipstic—Oh no! This is so hard, Cass. I don’t know if I can do this.” Of course his kids would be as likely to be here as at the Opera offices. Finding a red-lipstick print from their dad’s girlfriend would be way worse than inappropriate. It would be— “I’m such an idiot. I’m just gonna wreck this so bad. Cass, you have to tell me what to do. You’re the smart one.”

  “Actually, it was Jo who was valedictorian at college. And personally I think that you got that ‘C’ in PE just so that Jo would get the honor instead of you. Remember, I saw your GRE scores in case you went to grad school and I know neither of us came close to matching yours. How did you arrange to get a ‘C’ in a field hockey PE class anyway?”

  “Remember Ms. Kennelly?”

  “Stick-in-the-Mud Kennelly? Sure.”

  “I made a pass at her. She was totally freaked. But after that she didn’t dare flunk me the last semester Senior year, despite my never attending another class. Probably too afraid I’d wind up back in one of her classes. It worked great, but don’t tell Jo.”

  Cassidy crossed her heart like the true friend she was.

  Perrin heard a voice rumbling out in corridor, placating one person while handing out instructions to another. And his voice sounded as if he’d just finished ripping someone a new one.

  “That’s him,” she tried not to go all weak in the knees.

  “Perrin! You made it!” Bill wanted to devour her, she looked glorious and delectable. That same blazer as the other night, but without the t-shirt made him want to drag her down to the floor and pick up where good manners had stopped him last night. Had he even slept last night? Yet he felt energized rather than exhausted.

  He spotted the second woman just in time. Bill slammed a brake on his libido and held out a hand to shake Perrin’s as if they were just two professionals.

  She looked down at his hand, then rolled her eyes at the other woman, “What did I tell you about him?”

  “You were right. He’s too awesomely decent.”

  Perrin stepped into his arms and kissed him long and deeply enough to completely scorch any of his body’s responses that hadn’t already gone ballistic over the outfit.

  Then she stepped back, “I, uh, may have already told her about us. Bill Cullen, this is Cassidy Knowles, my best friend in the whole world.”

  “I know her, you just distracted me. We sort of met at the last board meeting, Ms. Knowles. You’re the one who saved Perrin’s life.”

  Cassidy startled and turned to face Perrin even before Bill could shake her hand.

  Perrin shrugged, “That’s all I told him.” But she appeared very interested in the tiling of the floor.

  Then Cassidy turned back and took his hand, shaking it carefully.

  “What did I just miss?”

  Cassidy inspected him closely. “You had best be worth it, Mister Cullen. To the best of my knowledge, you are only the fourth person on the planet to know that.”

  “Fifth,” Perrin offered without looking up. “I told Melanie a while ago. She kind of already knew. Forgot to tell you she was here this week, dating an opera singer, but she’s gone again. Back in five weeks for opening night.”

  Again some inexplicable exchange occurred silently.

  At length Cassidy turned to face him once more. She was perhaps five-eight, a good four inches shorter than he was. And very trim, though with fuller curves than Perrin. But he was left with no doubt that the woman before him, having somehow saved Perrin’s life once, would do absolutely anything she felt necessary to do so again.

  Chapter 8

  Perrin had the drawings spread down the entire length of her workbench. She’d had to get them back from Jerimy, because the last of the designs were being stubborn. She just couldn’t see them.

  The heavy colors and threads of hope and failure in the lineage of the Overlord and the Empress. The vile reds and blacks of the court Magister and his cohorts in the clergy. The opera had set them as almost pure evil, bent on the destruction of the royal lineage and replacing them with their own line. The Magister would bring about the ultimate downfall of the Tragic Prince. His snare would fail to catch Tamara as the young Empress-to-be.

  But the arranged-marriage Princess, and the Prince’s one True Love were eluding her. These were the two women who tore the Tragic Prince in two directions, ultimately allowing the Magister’s untimely blade to make his end.

  Once she had the Princess, then the Maid Confessor and Queen Mother should follow easily enough. But at the moment, nothing about any of the four of them was being easy. Nothing!

  She’d tried most of her tricks. Sketching, painting, pulling pieces randomly out of the scrap bag and stitching them together on the embroidery machine until something came of it.

  And not a decent idea.

  “Perrin,” Raquel stuck her head in. “You have a visitor.”

  She almost cried out in relief. A customer needing a special dress, or a friend, she didn’t care. She knew it couldn’t be Bill, he had one opera coming down and meetings about getting the set construction for Ascension back on schedule. He said he’d be frantic all week.

  “Hi, Perrin,” Tamara peeked around from behind Raquel.

  “Hey, you! Come here!” Without thinking Perrin had thrown her arms wide.

  Tamara eyed them for a moment, then came forward and accepted the hug. Perrin kept it brief, as she would if just meeting some friend on the street. Bill hadn’t been kidding, the girl was so self-conscious of every nuance of being thirteen. Of course, Perrin was also the woman who’d kissed her dad.

  “So, did your dad drop you off?” She wanted to ask where he was, why hadn’t he at least come in to say hello, how was he. He’d been so busy that she actually hadn’t seen him since the night she and Cassidy had attended Turandot. They’d barely traded late night texts after the kids were in bed. But she thought it better not to ask. It was best to appear completely neutral on the topic of her dad.

  “No, he didn’t,” a little hesitant. Then in a
rush to block Perrin’s next question, “I was hoping you could show me more about design and sewing. I really want to—”

  Perrin held up a hand to cut her off. She too had once been a teenage girl. Her life had been nothing like Tamara’s, but she knew the tones of voice that had and hadn’t gotten her out of trouble. The first part was a clear lie, even if the rest of it sounded true enough.

  Keep it light, she told herself.

  “Wow, girl! You just told a whopper, didn’t you?”

  Tamara blanched but struggled on valiantly. “No. I really wanted to learn how you made those costumes. I don’t get how you…” Her voice petered out as it became clear that Perrin wasn’t buying the distraction for a second.

  Before she could make further excuses, Perrin held up her hand.

  Tamara wisely closed her mouth.

  “Okay, first you sit and listen to the world according to Perrin. Then you get two choices.”

  She didn’t look happy about it, but she climbed up on the stool across the cutting table, dropping her school pack on the floor.

  “Your dad doesn’t know you’re here.” She didn’t make it a question.

  “Gretchen’s.”

  “And when he shows up and you aren’t at Gretchen’s, how much trouble will you have found?”

  Tamara shrunk down in her seat. “Lots. Seriously grounded at least.”

  “Girl, he’s going to put one of those house-arrest GPS ankle bracelets on you and never let you out of his sight again. He loves you so much that he’ll probably end up in jail for punching anyone who gets in his way while he’s trying to find you.”

  “No way… ” Suddenly she didn’t look so self-assured.

  “Way!” Perrin informed her. “That’s assuming he doesn’t have a heart attack from worrying himself sick about you first. Lost, maybe missing in the Big Bad City.”

  “I’m old enough to get around Seattle on my own if I want to. Besides, he’s always at work. What does he care about—”

 

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