by Jo Leigh
She couldn’t help it, of course. She gazed right at the heart of the matter. Not that she wanted to, naturally. But it was some kind of magnet or something.
“Bentley?”
She nodded. “Yeah?”
“Finished?”
She dropped her head in her hands. Could this day Decome any more embarrassing, or had she reached the very top of the humiliation scale. “Oh, God.”
“No, just me. And I told you, I was getting cold.”
She turned and fled, wanting to flee to mainland China but settling for the bed. Under the covers. Where she could experience her shame alone.
If she prayed hard enough, Mitch would leave her be. He would go somewhere far away. Another country. Another dimension. She wasn’t particular.
Instead, she felt him sit on the bed. Had he gotten dressed? Had there been time? If he was naked, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
“Bentley.”
“Go away.”
“Come on out, kid. It’s okay. I’m not embarrassed.”
“I am.”
“Why? We’re both adults.”
“I’m immature for my age.”
He tugged a bit on the comforter above her, but she hung on tight. No way she wanted to face him. Or his…Not like this.
“Bentley?”
“She’s left the building.”
“Whoever you are in there, I’m decent. Dressed. It’s safe to come out.”
She moved the covers down, slowly, until she could peek over the top. He was telling the truth. He’d put on his jeans.
She lowered the covers some more, still embarrassed beyond belief.
He smiled at her. “Well, that was interesting.”
“Fascinating”.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He winked at her. “Sure you did. You just don’t know it yet.”
Chapter Eleven
“So, you want to tell me what happened?” Mitch had to struggle to keep the grin off his face. Bentley, the woman he’d seen take on Nelson Richardson sin-gle-handed, was still as flustered as a schoolgirl. It was kinda cute, actually. Endearing. Of course he couldn’t tell her that. She’d sock him.
“I found out where Colker lives,” she said, her voice still timid. She hadn’t let go of the covers yet, although they’d gone from her chin to her chest.
“Yeah?”
“Room 1600. He doesn’t come out much. He’s small. The maids have already been there today, though, so we have to wait till tomorrow to do anything.”
“Not necessarily.” He stood up and went to the phone. After he punched the numbers for room service, he turned back to Bentley. “Come on. Get up. We’ve got work to do.”
She looked at him with that cocker-spaniel head tilt of hers, but someone had answered the phone.
“Room service.”
“What’s your soup today?”
“Chicken noodle,” the woman said.
“Send some up to Mr. C, please. Room 1600.”
“Right away.”
Mitch hung up the phone, relieved that there had been no secret password other than the use of the initial.
“What’s going on?” Bentley said. She’d thrown off her covers and now sat at the edge of the bed, sliding her shoes on.
“I found out that his alias is Mr. C. Like in Happy Days. Original, eh?”
“Shelli told you?”
He smiled. “Not exactly.” He went to the closet and grabbed a shirt, threw it on, then he slipped his shoes on, too. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. But right now, I need you to tell me the layout of the sixteenth floor. Is there somewhere to hide while we wait for room service?”
Bentley didn’t say anything for a minute. She just went to the mirror and combed her hair. He knew she was thinking, but he still fought the urge to prompt her.
He needed to get on with the search for Colker. After Bentley’s impromptu appearance in the bathroom, he’d done nothing but think about what he wanted from her. It wasn’t information.
He wanted her. More than he would have ever guessed. He’d considered that he might just be in a general state of horniness after his X-rated audio treat, but when he tried to picture any other woman in his arms, he couldn’t do it.
He didn’t want sex. He wanted to make love to Bentley. And since he doubted she would cheerfully agree, he had to keep his mind occupied and his body busy. So the Colker fortress was about to be stormed.
“I didn’t see anywhere to hide.” she said. “There are only two rooms on that side of the building.”
“Okay. So scratch that. We’ll have to create a diversion, but we’ll also have to have an alibi.”
“Peter. I can say we were up there to see him.”
Mitch sat down on the couch. “This, I presume, is the other Peter?”
She nodded. “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“How do you know he won’t be there to blow the deal?”
“He told me he had a meeting. But we’d better hurry because I have no idea how long it’s supposed to last”.
“You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Mitch stood and opened the door. “Let’s hit it, partner.”
The smile on her face did more for his general well-being than the Jacuzzi had. She looked eager and happy. Not just because they were going out sleuthing, but because they were sleuthing together.
He was pretty damn happy about that himself.
THE PLAN WOULD HAVE worked. It was a good plan, a reasonable plan. Only he hadn’t factored in Bentley’s mother.
It started the moment they stepped into the hall. Mitch had just shut the door behind him when he heard the unmistakable voice of Babs Brewster calling, “Yoo-hoo! Carter! Bentley! Over here!”
Bentley looked at him with resignation. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, then whispered, “We’ll get out of this. Trust me.”
She shook her head. “Forget it. It’s like trying to escape from Darth Vader. It won’t happen.”
“Just call me Luke.”
“I’m so glad we found you,” Babs said as she came within talking distance. “You didn’t show up for breakfast. You didn’t call me back. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to avoid me.”
“Mother, we’ve been busy. It wasn’t intentional.”
“Busy? With what?”
Bentley gave Mitch a look, sort of like a man on death row would give to his priest. “We’re doing a story. Carter and I.”
“On what? Hurricanes? Weddings that go to hell in a handbasket? Daughters driving their mother insane?”
“No. There’s someone here we want to interview.”
“You’re on vacation. Your family should be your first priority, or is that simply too old-fashioned for you?”
Mitch watched the interplay between Bentley and her mother with new eyes. Now that he was beginning to understand a little about Bentley, he could see that her mother’s influence was a powerful one, and that her move to Los Angeles, her job, her marriage to Carter had all taken a strength that most of the people he knew didn’t have. Faced with a woman like Babs, ordinary folks would fold. Not Bentley. Even now she stood straight and tall, determined not to let the guilt win.
“Is there something you want me to do, Mom? Or do you just want to talk?”
“Talking is helping. You think it’s easy for me, with Stephanie about to miss her own wedding? Your father doesn’t care. He’s watching sports with Arthur up in the room. Tildy is parked in her room and says she won’t come down until she’s sure the winds won’t come through the canvas in the lobby. Evelyn Howell arrived, but who knows where she is. Dinky is allergic to shellfish, so we have to order a special meal for him. Francie and the boys—”
“Mother,” Bentley interrupted. “I’m sorry no one is there for you right now, but Mitch and I have some work to do. Tell you what. We’ll do dinner together. I promise.”
“M
itch?”
Bentley froze. Mitch stared at her hard, wondering if he should step in now or if she could figure a way out of this.
“I meant Carter. The story were doing, it’s about Mitch Peterson.”
“Who’s that?”
“No one you’d be interested in.”
Babs pressed her lips together, and Mitch could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. But he was damned impressed by Bentley’s calm under pressure. No wonder she was such a good reporter.
“So, do you want to have dinner with us tonight?” Bentley asked.
“That’s all I’ll get, correct?”
“For today, yes.”
Babs nodded, but it was a hard-given acknowledgment.
“Seven o’clock, same place as last night?”
Again, Babs nodded.
Bentley moved closer to her mother and touched her arm. She smiled gently and said, “The reservations will be in Daddy’s name?”
It worked, sort of. Babs didn’t smile back, but she softened. “Go get your story, if that will make you happy.”
He didn’t know why, but he went over to Babs and gave her a hug. It was a real one, not part of the charade. At first she was stiff as a board, but he kept on until she hugged him back. “We’ll see you tonight, okay, Mom?” he said.
She patted his hand. “Go on. Get the elevator.”
He took Bentley’s hand and walked with her down the hall. “That was impressive,” he said.
“She is a force to be reckoned with.
“I meant you.”
She stopped. “Me?”
He pulled her forward again until they reached the elevator. He pressed the up arrow, then turned to her. “Yeah, you. You held your ground back there, but you did it with real class.”
She studied their hands, linked together with ease, and he could guess what she was thinking. How did this happen? To the two of them, of all people?
Finally, she looked up. “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re still Mitch, but there’s something else.”
“I haven’t changed.”
“Sure you have,” she said, a beautiful smile lighting up her face. “You just don’t know it yet.”
It was at that moment he realized he just might be in love.
THE FIRST THING Bentley saw when she got off the elevator was the room service cart in front of suite 1600. She quickly looked to Mitch. He’d seen it, too.
“Come on,” he said. He grabbed her hand once more and pulled her after him as he ran down the hall. The carpet was so cushioned, they barely made a sound.
She had to suppress a wild urge to giggle. She felt like a kid in school, racing with her best friend to snatch a glimpse of the gorgeous and mysterious history teacher. Her heart pumped faster and cleaner, running was easy and fine. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt like this. Probably never.
They reached the cart, and Mitch looked at her. She saw the same goofy grin on his face that must have been on hers. He was enjoying this, too. The being together part.
He let go of her hand and put his finger up to his lips. She nodded. No way she was going to spoil this party. The door to, 1600 was open, just a bit, but enough for them both to realize it wasn’t locked.
Mitch pushed the door slowly open, and she waited for a shout to come from the waiter, or even Colker himself. But it stayed quiet. Too quiet. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest and she had to remind herself that no one else could hear it.
The door moved another inch. Mitch got braver and stuck his head inside. The next second, before she had a chance stop him, he went inside.
She didn’t know what to do. Should she go with him? Should she stand guard? The anticipation was too much. The worry—what if Colker had a gun— made it impossible to be still. She looked to the right, then to the left, nearly hopping in her anxiety.
Come on, come on, come on, come on. The chant was a voodoo charm, an incantation that would bring him safely out so they could make their escape.
Come on, come on. Nothing could happen to him. She wouldn’t let it. Not now. Not when she’d just—
The door shot open and Mitch burst out, holding something big under his right arm. “Come on!”
She heard herself squeal as she raced after him down the hall, looking back over her shoulder, certain they were going to be caught any second. Instead of waiting for the elevator, Mitch pulled open the stairwell door. She raced in and he followed, and they both collapsed as soon as they were safely inside.
Their breathing echoed off the gray walls, hard and fast and filled with relief. Mitch, still holding his prize, pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting. She finally realized what he had in his hand. It was a trash basket. Little wadded-up pieces of paper were inside, and some other things she couldn’t identify from here.
“Trash? You got his trash?” She started laughing then, and she couldn’t have stopped if her life depended on it. Mitch joined in, which made it even funnier, and she had to hold her sides from the ache. She, too, slid down the wall so they were sitting side by side, neither one of them able to stop.
He quit first, but then he looked at her and started again. Then she put on the brakes, only to burst out laughing again at the sight of the trash basket. Now it seemed that she’d finally gotten over the worst of it, although a stray giggle slipped out once or twice.
She took a deep cleansing breath, then dug in her purse for a tissue. Her makeup must be all over her face, and she couldn’t find her mirror. She did the best that she could, dabbing underneath her eyes.
When she was through, Mitch reached over and rubbed a spot with his thumb. The gentleness of the touch undid her, and she leaned forward and kissed him.
It wasn’t a long kiss. It wasn’t terribly passionate. It was simply the best. The best because this guy, this crazy lunatic who’d stolen his way into her life, had somehow stolen his way into her heart.
She pulled back, studying his face, wondering when he’d changed from the Mitch she knew at work to this Mitch.
“Confusing, huh?” he said.
She nodded. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Me, neither.”
“So, what next?”
He smiled. “What say we reconnoiter in our room. Go over the booty.”
She nodded. “Good idea.”
He stood up first. She took his outstretched hand and let him pull her to her feet. She didn’t move, though. She just met his gaze and saw her own wonder reflected in his eyes.
He handed her the trash basket. “You go on to the room,” he said. “I’ve got to run downstairs for a minute.”
She took their prize, confused, but not for long. She nodded. “Good idea.”
MITCH NEARLY RAN through the lobby toward the gift shop. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t brought any condoms with him. Well, he had the one in his back pocket, but that was circa 1995. He’d seen several brands behind the counter and thought he just might buy a few of each. They’d be here for another three days, after all.
He barely noticed the hubbub around him. He did see the canvas sheets tied around the front entrance, and he caught the sense of urgency. But he was in a little panic of his own, with no time to worry about anything as minor as a hurricane.
He finally entered the gift shop and saw the neat rows of condoms on the right side of the cash register. Three different kinds should be enough. While he was at it, he picked up some gum, a magazine and some mouthwash.
The girl behind the counter rang up his supplies carefully, perusing each item for the little bar code, then typing the numbers in one by agonizing one.
“Some storm,” she said.
“Yep.”
“My boyfriend, Eddie? He says the whole island’s gonna be ripped up. He says that there won’t be anything standing after. I don’t think so.”
“You’re a smart girl.”
She smiled but lost her place. Mitch vowed to keep silent.
�
��This hotel is really big, right? I mean, it would take a giant hurricane to blow it down. And this one’s not even aimed at us. Right?”
He nodded.
She pressed the final button. “Fourteen fifty-two.”
He gave her fifteen dollars and waited while she struggled with the change.
She put the receipt in the bag and moved to hand it to him, but stopped short. “Hey, you’re that guy Shelli told me about, aren’t you?”
“Me?”
The girl nodded. “Yeah. You’re the reporter fellow. Come here to do some big news story.”
“That’s right, and I have to go call my editor, so—” He held out his hand.
She gave him the bag. “She said you looked like George Clooney, but I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure George will be pleased.” He turned, desperate to make his getaway.
“I didn’t mean you weren’t cute or anything,” she called after him.
“Thank you!” With that, he was away from the gift shop and, headed home.
Just after he’d crossed the lobby, someone caught his arm. At first he thought it was the gift shop clerk, ready to tell him just how cute he was, but it was Danny, Bentley’s father. Wonderful.
“Hey there,” Mitch said, trying not to sound as if Dan were the last person on earth he wanted to see. Except for maybe Babs.
“Well, isn’t this a nice coincidence,” Dan said. “I was just on my way to meet Dinky, and who do I run into?”
Mitch smiled, looked wistfully at the elevator, then back at Danny, who hadn’t let go of his arm. In fact, Bent ley’s father was guiding him to one of the couches lining the walls. Mitch thought about asking why he would want to meet anyone named Dinky, but that could only lead to trouble.
“Is there something I can do for you?” Mitch asked, dreading the answer.
“Sit with me a minute, Carter. Now that we’re away from the girls, eh?”
Mitch sat. He couldn’t just blow Dan off. And he certainly couldn’t tell him why he was so anxious to get upstairs. So he smiled instead.