Behind them, Tara heard someone slip into the tent Glancing back, she glimpsed a short young woman with glossy dark hair, chic pearl earrings and a suit trimmed in braid. Before she could ask what Lois was doing here, Tara noticed a name tag that said Organizing Committee Chairwoman.
“Rajeev and Vareena?”
“They’ve got this dance competition the same night as Chance’s company dinner,” Harry said. “You really saw them?”
“More or less,” murmured Cynda.
“Who’s going to win?” he asked.
“Excuse me?” The older woman peered at him dubiously.
“Are Rajeev and Vareena going to win the trophy?” Harry persisted.
Cynda’s forehead puckered. “I don’t see any trophy. Just smoke.”
“Maybe you’ve got a short circuit”. Releasing Tara’s arm, Chance looked around for a plug.
“It’s not electrical.” The fortune-teller drew herself up. “It’s merely tired from a long day’s work. And so am I.”
“I came to suggest you take a break,” explained Lois. “You’ve been here three hours, and we’re open until eleven. You ought to take a walk and eat some dinner, Gram.”
Standing, the fortune-teller yawned and stretched. As she came around the table, Tara could see trouser cuffs peeping from beneath the black robe.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take my little nephew with me so we can get to know each other. You young people can reminisce about your favorite teachers and that one everybody hated—what was his name? The economics teacher.” Without waiting for an answer, Cynda took Harry’s hand and out they walked, discussing what to purchase for dessert.
Tara wasn’t used to letting her son wander off with other people, but, she reminded herself, Aunt Cynda was a relative. So was Lois, she mused as she greeted the younger woman.
The three of them strolled out of the tent together. “How’s the carnival going?” Tara asked.
“Even better than we expected!” Lois waved to a passing couple. “We’ve set a goal of raising ten thousand dollars, but I think we’ll surpass that. And of course we’ll be open tomorrow, as well.”
“This must have been a lot of work,” Chance said. “I’m surprised you found the time.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to give something back to my school.” Lois sounded sincere, and Tara realized it was unfair to assume the young woman was always calculating her own advantage. She might work for Raymond and even admire him, but that didn’t make her his clone. “Please tell Denise I’ve had lots of compliments on my hair. That lotion really works!”
“She’ll be glad to hear it.”
They reached the midway, which was growing more crowded by the minute. Over the music of the carousel, Chance asked, “How’s Dad’s acquisition going, of the software gaming company? Everything under control?”
“‘Under control’?” repeated Lois. “Now, there’s a phrase Ray would appreciate! Every time we meet with their board, they bring up a new demand. We’re setting up a session to see if we can iron out our differences.”
“Good luck,” Chance said, and nearly collided with Cynda and Harry, who were consuming huge snow cones.
“Gram! That’s not a very healthy dinner,” Lois scolded.
“It’s my appetizer,” said Cynda, deadpan.
Harry grinned, displaying a face smeared with snowcone coloring. In the shifting lights, it might have been either red or green.
Lois smiled. “You two make a charming pair. A couple of scamps!”
The five of them joined company as Lois made sure her grandmother followed the snow cone with a sandwich. Banter flew, and Harry and his older cousin seemed to hit it off.
“Maybe she’s finally developing a maternal instinct,”. Cynda observed after her granddaughter excused herself to see to her duties. “Let’s hope she eases up on her ambitions. Not that I’m a keep-’em-in-the-kitchen type, but there’s more to life than making money.”
Tara agreed. She’d enjoyed tonight’s merriment and the comforting sense of being with family. She knew Harry had, too.
As for Chance, he was smiling as he guided them toward the car. Maybe, she thought, they’d finally hit on a comfortable balance that they could maintain, working and playing together without the risk of deeper involvement.
If she ached to put her arms around him, and if sensuous memories of their Halloween encounter still tormented her sometimes, that was an issue she could learn to deal with.
BY THE NIGHT of the annual dinner, Chance felt more like an orchestra conductor than a businessman. Although he had paid scrupulous attention to his clients’ affairs these past weeks, he had also spent long hours making sure every part of tonight’s presentation would hit the right note and rise to a crescendo of goodwill.
Thank goodness for the assistance of his staff, and for Tara, who proved invaluable when the work threatened to overload him. Hundreds of details had been arranged, surprises planned and a multimedia presentation honed to pulse-pounding entertainment.
In a way, the heavy work schedule had proved a blessing. It enabled him to keep his attraction to Tara pushed to the back of his mind.
Chance’s only regret was that he hadn’t spent enough time with Harry. Now that school had ended for the summer, the boy was chafing to use his magic, and a few hours a week failed to satisfy him. Once tonight was past, Chance vowed as he adjusted his cummerbund in front of the mirror, he would make time every day for his son.
“Excuse me,” said the house. “Isn’t anyone eating at home tonight? The fridge is full of leftovers”.
Chance was so startled, he nearly dropped the slim wallet he was tucking into one pocket “Did somebody call you or are you speaking on your own these days?”
“It’s my duty to point out that some of the food is likely to spoil,” sniffed the computer from an all-butinvisible speaker in the wall. “Really, couldn’t you address me as something other than ‘you’? I know I haven’t yet chosen a name, but it seems demeaning.”
Chance had more important things to do this evening than pacify his house, but he couldn’t resist. “Abode?” he suggested. “Dwelling unit? Maybe I could call you by our address.”
“Too impersonal,” said the house.
“I’ll give it some thought,” said Chance. “Later.”
After one more check in the mirror, he strode from the room. Behind him, the lights turned themselves off with a sigh.
Rajeev and Vareena had left for the competition an hour ago with Harry in tow. Chance had gotten so used to them twirling around that the courtyard lay strangely empty without them.
A smog-enhanced sunset filled the sky with a rosy glow. Chance hesitated in midstride, forming an image of that long-ago Halloween when he’d stood in the tower, peering down at the costumed guests.
That night, he’d been trying to figure out what direction to take with his life. He’d realized he couldn’t stay with his father’s firm and follow Raymond’s wishes, but he’d been apprehensive about striking out on his own.
His mood had been far from festive. Noting that the revelers below were mostly casual acquaintances attracted by his flyers, he’d nearly decided not to bother making an appearance.
He hadn’t so much glimpsed Tara’s presence as sensed it. Struggling to reconstruct the experience, Chance decided it had been like catching a whiff of fragrance. He closed his eyes, wanting to retain these memories to treasure later, no matter what might come.
Now that the intense work of the past weeks was finished, he doubted he and Tara could continue as they were. The undercurrent between them grew more powerful every day. Yet he hadn’t forgotten Aunt Cynda’s warning about their union awakening danger.
For once, the Magician had no tricks, the Warlock no spells, the Wizard no wisdom that could protect them. Fate had woven an unseen tapestry, and Chance was as caught up in it as Valdemar had been in his long-ago quest to free his true love from a tyrant.
I just wish I knew who
the enemy was. I hope it isn’t some part of myself.
“Oh, you’re out here!” Tara emerged from the far wing of the house. The rainbow hues of her suit blended into the sunset-tinged light, making her appear almost translucent. “We’re going to have to hurry.”
They’d planned to arrive well in advance, but a glance at his watch showed Chance he would barely beat his guests to the scene. “Let’s go, then”, he said, and offered his arm.
HARRY KNEW A COUPLE of the other kids; he’d met them while watching Rajeev and Vareena’s dance classes. They were sitting on the floor in front of the folding chairs.
He plopped down between an African-American girl with long braids, and a boy whose frizzy blond hair made him look as if he’d stuck his finger in a light socket.
“My mom and dad made the semifinals,” said the little girl, whose name was Marika. “How about yours?”
There’d been a preliminary competition the previous weekend at the dance school. Rajeev had told him something about it, although Harry hadn’t paid much attention. “Yeah, they’re competing tonight, too.”
“Standard or Latin?” asked the little boy. Harry thought his name was Dag or Tag.
He didn’t know, so he said, “Both.” The other kids looked impressed.
From what Vareena had told him in the car, Harry gathered that this wasn’t exactly the Olympics of ballroom dancing. It was more like a high school game between a couple of schools.
But the row of shining trophies sitting on a table at the end of the ballroom looked big-time to him. And grownups were filling the chairs around the dance floor, their voices abuzz with excitement.
The room was as big as a school gym, with banners stuck on the walls and clusters of balloons floating near the ceiling. Harry wondered whether the kids got to take the balloons home afterward.
He shifted, trying to get comfortable. The floor was made of wood instead of linoleum or tile. Probably that was because the Green Friars Country Club used to be a private mansion. From the outside, it resembled the Haunted House at Disneyland.
Harry hoped he could talk Chance into coming here with him sometime to explore. A big old house like this ought to have secret rooms and maybe even a treasure.
Static rumbled over the sound system, followed by a man’s voice. “One, two, three, testing.”
He saw the man and a woman, both in fancy clothes, standing at a microphone behind the trophy table. “Welcome to the second annual Kick Up Your Heels competition for beginning and intermediate dancers!” said the man.
“We want to build enthusiasm in the students from both our schools, and prepare them for competitions to come!” added the woman.
“The main point is to have fun!” said the man, and began talking about the semifinals and then the finals that would be held that evening.
When he finished, music blared and a bunch of dancers came galloping into the room. The guys had on tight pants and glittery jackets; the women wore floaty dresses with flounces and spangles, and one had pink feathers. Harry figured they must have been plucked from parrots, because what other kind of birds were that color?
The women were spinning and jumping, and the men stamped their feet the way Rajeev did when he was pretending to be a matador. Some of the ladies got tossed into the air and one rode around upside down on her partner’s shoulders.
Harry got a not-so-happy feeling. Rajeev and Vareena were clapping and making little twirls, but some of these other people didn’t look like beginners to him. They were really good.
For the first time, it occurred to him that his friends might not win. It didn’t seem fair, not when they’d practiced so hard.
Maybe they needed a little help.
SET TO ROCK MUSIC and animated via computer, the year’s investment highlights made a great show. While images danced on an array of screens and Chance’s voice boomed over the music, the guests finished dessert and applauded lustily.
It was after eight o’clock and the dinner had gone perfectly. Everyone raved about the food—”Shrimp and salmon! Thank goodness it’s not chicken like every other banquet!—and the decor proved equally popular, with sections of the room decorated to suggest the gondolas of hot-air balloons.
Generally, Chance didn’t believe in superstitions. But things were going a little too well.
As he acknowledged the applause, he wondered how Harry was getting along at the dance competition. The boy had enjoyed watching Rajeev’s classes, but this might prove a long evening. He was glad he and Tara would be arriving later.
Tara. It took Chance’s full concentration not to keep staring at her. The flowing suit with its delicate shadings brought out her innate grace. Tonight she was so radiant, he suspected she could light up the room all by herself.
But with the applause fading, he needed to collect his thoughts and resume his duties as master of ceremonies. “Now we’ve got a diversion for you folks,” he said into the microphone. “In keeping with our theme of Up, Up and Away, and my reputation as a wizard of Wall Street, we’ve got a pair of uniquely talented entertainers. They’re jugglers, they’re magicians, they’re comedians. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Lee and Lew!”
As he spoke, two men ran out, juggling what appeared to be hand grenades and wearing suitably horrified expressions. The audience greeted them with cheers and laughter.
For the next ten minutes, the guests chuckled at similar antics. Then Lee and Lew announced that they needed a woman assistant, and settled instantly on Tara. The fact that she was standing nearby and was—in Chance’s opinion—the most beautiful woman in the room might have had something to do with it.
She hesitated only a trace before stepping forward. Her delicate features wore a studied smile, and he could see she was fighting her natural shyness.
First, the pair pretended to saw her in half, with lots of stumbling and bumbling that would have filled Chance with alarm if it hadn’t been so funny. Her hat ended up in one corner and her tousled hair reasserted its spiky independence, but in the end, Tara escaped in one piece.
Then they asked her to pick guests whose minds they would read. The “thoughts” relayed by the comedians were risqué without being offensive.
“Now that fellow over there.” Lee pointed at Chance. “He’s supposed to be a wizard, so he ought to be able to read your mind, eh?”
Tara brushed back a lock of hair, which promptly flopped forward again. “Well, yes.”
“Lew is going over there to blindfold him. Then we’re going to show you an image, and you have to try to transmit it”.
It should be easy to play along with whatever gag the pair had in mind, Chance told himself as Lew tied a bandanna around his eyes. He’d had lots of practice blocking out Tara’s thoughts.
What an irony, that they intended the whole thing as a joke, and yet had picked the one couple in the room who actually could read each other’s minds. If, of course, he allowed it.
“Here you go!” said Lee, and Chance heard a shuffling noise that might have been a poster being lifted into view.
He hadn’t intended to peek, but he found himself overwhelmed by curiosity. Surely it couldn’t hurt to find out why the crowd was laughing, as long as he didn’t reveal that he knew. After a moment’s hesitation, he relaxed the barrier that he habitually raised whenever he felt close to Tara.
An image came to mind with unexpected sharpness, as if he were looking directly at it. It was a cartoon bull chasing a man up a profit-and-loss chart. The man, who bore a strong resemblance to Chance, clutched his rear end as he ran.
He could feel Tara’s enjoyment of the humor. She was releasing the tension of the past few days, now that the evening had gone well.
Being inside her mind felt natural, and increasingly intimate. As the thought came to him, Chance knew it reached her, too. He was grateful for the distraction when Lee asked, “Are you getting anything over there?”
“Not really.” But before he realized what he was doing, Chance
rubbed one of his hips as if it was sore. The audience howled.
“Very good!” announced Lee. “Tighten his blindfold, will you?”
The cloth strained as Lew resecured the knot.
“Now try this one,” came the voice from the podium.
Instantly, a picture formed in his mind, viewed directly through Tara’s eyes from where she stood near the poster. He also caught a hint of her perfume, just enough to stir his masculine hunger.
This cartoon depicted a bear walking a tightrope, holding a balancing pole that looked like Chance turned sideways.
“Well?” said Lee. “See any stock prices falling in a bear market?”
“I’m getting an image of snow,” said Chance. “It isn’t a polar bear, is it?”
People applauded. When Lew removed the bandanna, Chance caught a trace of curiosity on the entertainer’s face.
“Those two sure know how to communicate,” said Lee. “And no, folks, that wasn’t rehearsed!”
The pair finished by juggling shrunken heads that issued intermittent blasts of fire. “This is how Chance feels whenever the Federal Reserve Board announces a change in interest rates!” Lee cracked to the audience, and the comedians finished to thunderous approval.
With relief, Chance turned the program over to the band and invited his guests to dance, have another drink or help themselves to an extra dessert at a special buffet He didn’t think he could take much more public scrutiny while his mind was in a whirl.
The moment he let his guard down, the connection with Tara had been instantaneous, as if they’d practiced at length. It was stronger and clearer than before, as if something had been growing between them at the subconscious level.
Was that merely an extension of their natural attraction and comradeship? Or did it mean the ties from a past life were reasserting themselves, regardless of anything Chance or Tara intended?
RAJEEV AND VAREENA DID turn out to be entered in both standard and Latin categories. Harry decided to wait and see how things went in the first round before he tried using his magic.
Daddy Warlock Page 17