Step Into My Parlor

by Jan Hudson

  "Sugar?"

  She looked up from the paper napkin she'd twisted into a tight blue snake.

  "Please stay." He gave her a hangdog look. "Don't you like me?"

  "Of course I like you. Spider. You’ve done so many wonderful things for me, how could I help it? But my life is complicated enough without—"

  "Without me hitting on you. I know. I'm sorry about that, sugar. Just as sorry as I can be. If I could take it back, I would. But don't let one slip screw things up. You're a lovely lady, and the truth is, I'm attracted to you. Damned attracted. I'd be lying if I didn't admit it. I just let myself forget for a minute that you're married and don't need anything from me right now but friendship. You don't have anyplace to go, and I'd worry about you out on the streets by yourself. Please stay. I’ll give you my word that it won't happen again. You're safe with me."

  Anne hesitated. Maybe he did just want to be her friend, but, without even trying, he was the most seductive man she'd ever encountered. A six-foot-four hunk of animal magnetism. Raw sensuality seeped from his pores and invaded the air that she breathed. Even his hair was sexy. At this very moment, her fingers itched to run themselves through the enticing shock, thick and black as sin, curling over his forehead and down his nape. She wanted to rub her cheek against his jaw and feel the rough texture of his stubble against her skin. Her lips ached—

  "I promise." He made an X on his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die." He gave her a slow grin designed to melt steel.

  Warmth sparked and smoked low within her. If she stayed, she was courting heartache. This man was too far removed from her world for her to be serious about. If she'd had another option, she would have walked out the door. But her practical nature reminded her that without money, there were no other options. She would have to trust him to keep their relationship platonic. She sighed. "All right. I’ll stay."

  "Great!" His grin widened, and his eyes grew bright. "Eat up, darlin'. We're going to get your driver's license this morning. I figured you might have a hard time with my pickup, so I’ll borrow Fred's Toyota for you to take your test."

  He attacked his eggs with gusto, but she only pushed hers around on her plate. Self-reproach crawled in her stomach with a hundred furry feet and made her queasy. It wasn't right to let him keep on believing that she was married, but it was an excellent defense against stampeding hormones. His and hers. At two o'clock this morning, after a restless night of tossing and turning, it had taken a great deal of willpower to keep from walking those few steps from her sensuously undulating bed and slipping into one covered with red satin sheets.

  Her only salvation was the knowledge that she wasn't cut out for casual affairs. Perhaps she was prim according to today's standards, but recreational sex simply wasn't part of her value system. And she couldn't imagine any other kind of relationship with Spider. She tried to picture an unshaven man in jeans and black leather jacket, a cutlass dangling from his ear, sipping cocktails at an embassy reception in Washington or mingling with patrons at a gallery showing. It didn't compute.

  Desire of the magnitude she'd encountered with Spider was totally alien to her experience. But she recognized that it was lust, plain and simple, and she refused to allow lust to win out over good sense. No, it was best that she not correct his mistaken assumption that she was married. She treasured the special friendship that had developed between them, but it was crucial that she and Spider remain friends and nothing more. When Vicki returned and helped her get this nightmare straightened out, she would be going back to Virginia to resume her life there.

  With his head leaned back against the wall, Spider sat in a hard plastic chair molded for a much smaller person. Stretching out his legs, he crossed his feet at the ankle, tucked his fingers under his armpits, and stared at the tip of his

  While he waited at the Department of Public Safety for Anne to finish her driver's test, he had plenty of time to think. And, as usual, his thoughts focused on Anne. There was nothing to do but admit it: He was crazy about her. Without making any effort, she had twisted his heart around her finger.

  The door opened, and Anne came out wearing a big smile as she walked toward him.

  "I did it," she squealed, waving a new license in her hand.

  He couldn't help but grin as he unfolded from the plastic chair and stood. "I'm proud of you, sugar. I think this calls for a celebration. How about a beer and a hamburger at Fuddruckers?"

  She giggled. "Is your stomach all you ever think about?"

  He looked her up and down, and one corner of his mouth curled into a suggestive message. "No."

  She gave him a playful swat. "I thought we'd settled that issue."

  He laughed and hooked her arm through his. "Just kidding, sugar. Just kidding."

  Anne was still riding high as she gamely tackled a giant cheeseburger with all the trimmings. "Can you believe that I made a perfect score on my driver's test? I was a little nervous when I had to fudge on the application—I guess you could tell from the way my hand was shaking—but I did it!"

  Spider chuckled and took a swig of beer. "I'm proud of you, darlin’. I never doubted for a minute that you could handle it. Now eat up. I've gotta get back to the shop to meet a production crew from the ad company. We're going to shoot some TV commercials at the Parlor this afternoon."

  "How interesting! I’ve never seen a commercial filmed. May I watch?"

  He ducked his head and drew wet circles with his beer bottle. "Nah, you'd probably be bored. Molly's planning to take you shopping this afternoon."

  "Why, Spider," she said, giving a wry grin, "I believe you're trying to get rid of me. What sort of commercials are you going to do?"

  "Just some stuff tied in with the holidays in February," he mumbled. "Are you about ready to go?"

  Burgers finished, they drove back to the Parlor. Anne was smiling and animated on the trip home. Just looking at her gave him a warm feeling. If she was happy, he was happy.

  At breakfast when she'd talked about finding another place to live, he'd felt as if he'd been poleaxed. He didn't want her to leave. In fact, he thought, he'd like nothing better than to have her around permanently. But the complications.

  Of course, the big numero uno always looming in his mind was that she was married. Although eventually that could be worked out. He didn't imagine she would stay hitched to that slimeball she was running from forever. In the meantime, he would keep his promise to her and his hands to himself. It might cause a little pain, but pain he could handle.

  It didn't take a genius to figure out that there were a passel of other problems, too. Anne had big trouble. But until this friend of hers got back in town or until she learned to trust him, there wasn't a damned thing he could do to help her out of whatever mess she was in. All he could do was be patient, stand by her, and be her friend. He could take the pressure off and keep her safe behind him.

  Molly Painter, the short, perky young woman who worked part-time for Spider, was anxiously awaiting their return.

  Spider peeled two hundred-dollar bills from his money clip and handed them to Anne. "Will that be enough, squirt?" he asked Molly.

  Molly rolled her blue eyes. "Give me a break." He handed her three more and Molly nodded.

  "Here," he said, giving her another. "See if you can find some cowboy boots and a western shirt."

  "What in the world for?" Anne asked.

  The rodeo's coming up, sugar. Everybody dresses up for the rodeo. And buy something fancy." He peeled off another bill and grinned. "A present from me."

  Anne started to argue, but he seemed so pleased with himself that she smiled and thanked him. Spider was the most generous man she'd ever met—not only with material things, but also with his time and concern. No wonder he had so many friends.

  She stuffed the money in her purse, mentally adding the cash to the figure she owed Spider. At the moment, seven hundred dollars seemed like a fortune, but only a month ago she would have paid that much or more on a single sports
outfit without giving it a second thought.

  After she and Molly made a quick check of Anne's meager wardrobe to determine what clothes would be needed, they said their good-byes. As they buckled their seatbelts In Molly's little red car, Anne said, "I don't see how I can afford to buy too much."

  Molly laughed as she zipped out of the parking lot. "You don't know the places that I do. I’ll bet you've never been to an outlet store or a resale shop."

  "No, but Spider and I did go shopping."

  "Oh, that's fine for jeans and stuff, but the stores I have in mind sell a different kind of merchandise — the kind you're used to."

  Anne tensed. "How do you know what I'm used to?"

  Molly shrugged. "I'm in clothing, remember? I recognized the quality of your silk blouse and wool slacks. Designer labels. Trust me, for what you paid for one blouse. I could have bought half a dozen similar ones for the same price."

  "Half a dozen? Really?"

  "Yep. It takes more time to shop, and you have to know where the bargains are." She grinned and gave her short, dark hair an exaggerated pat. "Lucky for you, I'm an expert, dahling."

  Anne laughed at the saucy comment. "I appreciate your help, Molly."

  "No problem. I’ll use you as a class project. An entire wardrobe for seven hundred dollars."

  Anne doubted that it could be done, but she did need only a few things, enough until Vicki returned. After all, she had closets full of clothes in Virginia.

  Molly made a quick exit off the freeway, then twisted through a maze of streets before she pulled" up to a large warehouse building. "Let's try this place first. They usually stock on Monday mornings, and they have the best selection in town."

  Racks and racks of clothes filled the gigantic room. Anne's mouth must have dropped open, for Molly giggled as she headed down an aisle with Anne in tow. They stopped at a long row of suits.

  "I figured we ought to start with something basic. What size are you?" Molly looked her up and down. "About an eight?"

  Anne nodded and Molly began flipping through suits like someone possessed, pulling out one, then another, holding them up to Anne, shaking her head, then putting them back.

  "Bingo!" She jerked a camel-colored suit from the rack and held it against Anne. "Perfect!"

  Anne fingered the well-cut fabric. "It feels like cashmere."

  "It is. And only seventy-five bucks."

  "Seventy-five dollars?" Her eyes widened in surprise. She'd noted the distinctive label. "It can't be. Is something wrong with it?"

  Molly grinned and stuck her nose in the air. "Last year's collection, dahling. Think you can live with it?"

  Anne giggled and lifted her nose in the same pose. "I suppose I can make the sacrifice."

  Catching the bargain fever, Anne raced around with Molly, gathering up things to try on. When they stopped, arms laden with possibilities, they sought out a dressing room. Only a frazzled, olive-green curtain separated the large community dressing room from the showroom.

  Lined with mirrored walls and racks for hanging, the area was teeming with women in various states of undress. Shy about disrobing in such a public place, Anne whispered, "Isn't there someplace else I can use?"

  Molly shook her head. "Sorry. It's the price we pay to keep overhead low. If she can," she whispered, inclining her head toward a woman trying to squeeze her size eighteen hips into a size twelve dress, "you can."

  For an hour Anne tried clothes on and took them off, with Molly passing judgment, keeping tabs on her calculator, and occasionally running out to rummage through a bin of five-dollar scarves and belts.

  At last they settled on several outfits. 'These are wonderful," Anne said as she tied her shoelaces. "And I can't believe the prices. But are you sure we haven't spent more than seven hundred dollars?"

  When Molly had punched in the last number from the price tags on her calculator, a broad grin spread over her gamine face. "Nope. Would you believe that all this is only three hundred and seventeen dollars?"

  Anne's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding!"

  Scooping up a load of clothes, Molly wiggled an eyebrow and said, "Stick with me, babe. You ain't seen nothing yet."

  Laughing, Anne said, "I can't imagine anything more."

  When their purchases were stowed in the car, Molly said, "Next stop, Bankruptcy Shoe Warehouse. Charge!"

  Molly's excitement was contagious, and Anne couldn't remember when she had enjoyed shopping more. She'd been to countless showings and sipped wine in the finest houses in Paris, Rome, and New York, but she'd never had more fun than she was having looking for bargains in Houston.

  They bought shoes and boots for unbelievable prices, and at a resale shop they found the fancy dress Spider had instructed her to buy. While they were there, Molly rummaged through the used items and got excited when she pulled out a red Jumpsuit in soft challis.

  "Oh, I don't think so," Anne said. "I’ve never worn red well." But Molly insisted she try it on. The supple fabric felt wonderful, but she frowned at the seductive image in the mirror. All she could think of were red satin sheets, and her face flushed and her palms went damp. "It's just not me."

  "Oh, but it is. It's funky. And it's sexy. Spider will go into orbit. My special guy would."

  "Molly, there's nothing like that between us. Spider and I are just good friends."

  "Uh-huh," Molly said, as if she didn't believe a word Anne said. "I’ve seen the way he looks at you. To die for! I’ve worked at the Pawn Parlor for over a year, and I've never seen Spider so goosey over a woman. You're a lucky lady. Spider's great."

  In spite of Anne's arguments, she ended up buying the Jumpsuit. Thirty dollars was a bargain, she rationalized. And the quality was excellent.

  They wandered through a wholesale jewelry store, and Molly filled their basket with a mound of costume jewelry, most of which Anne felt was much too gaudy, but her perky companion insisted the pieces were the "in" thing and perfect for her new look. "Funky" was her favorite word. And even though Anne wasn't used to jangling and clunking and flashing as she walked, she had to admit that the things were kind of fun. Maybe being blond made the difference.

  A pair of earrings caught Anne's attention, and she stopped to look at the small gold spiders with tiny blue jewels for eyes. "Oh, look. These would be perfect for Spider."

  "Why don't you get them? He'd love it."

  "Do you think so? I thought maybe there was some significance to the cutlass. I’ve never seen him wear anything else."

  Molly shook her head. "Not that I know of. He used to wear a gold hoop sometimes, but I think he lost it."

  On their way out the door, Molly said, "Well, we did it." She checked her watch. "And in four hours and sixteen minutes. It must be a record." Her face lit up with a smile. "We have sixty-three dollars left. What do you want to splurge on? Another purse? Sexy lingerie? I think we ought to go back for the red polka-dot shoes we saw at the warehouse. They would be fabulous with the jumpsuit."

  "I'm pooped. Why don't we save it for another time?"

  Winter's early darkness was falling as they cut across a poorly lit area to the car, parked a distance away. Anne felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and she looked over her shoulder, searching the shadows. Being out at night made her feel nervous and vulnerable.

  With the sun gone, the air was chilly and she shivered. A gust of wind rattled a discarded sack and sent it sliding across her feet. She kicked it away and shivered again.

  A car roared to life, and she jumped. How silly, she chided herself, to startle with every little sound. But still, she'd be glad to get back to the safety of the Parlor. And Spider.

  Suddenly, an explosion pierced the quiet. Anne screamed. Her shopping bag went flying as she grabbed Molly and dragged her down, flinging them both flat against the ground.

  Molly yelped and tried to get up, but Anne held her fast.

  "Stay down," Anne hissed.

  "What's going on?"

  Terrifyin
g images flooded her memory. "He's found me again! He's trying to kill me!"

  "Who's trying to kill you?"

  "Preston. Or his hoodlums." Another loud bang exploded. "Oh, Lord!" Hysteria clung to the edges of her sanity, scrambling to rise up and take over her reason. "They must have been following us all day, waiting for their chance. We’ve got to get out of here. We've got to run!"

  "Anne, listen to me. That was a car backfiring, not a gun."

  "A car?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive."

  Anne went limp and the breath rushed from her lungs. "Oh, Lord, I feel like such a fool."

  Molly helped her up. "You're shaking like a leaf. Is somebody really trying to kill you?"

  Anne nodded.

  "Are you okay now?"

  Her knees were wobbly, but she brushed her jeans and managed a semblance of a smile. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I acted like an idiot. You must have thought I'd lost my mind."

  Molly laughed as she picked up the shopping bag. "It occurred to me there for a minute." They walked to the car in silence. When they were safely inside, she turned to Anne. "I suppose it's none of my business, but I’ve always been the nosy type. Why is somebody trying to kill you?"

  "It's a complicated story, and the less you know, the better. I don't want to endanger my friends."

  "Can't you go to the police?"

  Anne shook her head. "I told you it's complicated. Things will be straightened out in about three weeks. Until then, I'm taking refuge with Spider."