1 Hot Scheming Mess

by Lucy Carol

  The hallway was still clear. Most of the hotel guests were probably already out to dinner. She leaned against the wall opposite ExBoy’s door, putting a foot up on the wall behind her, her knee sticking forward, waiting to see when he would open the door. Now would be a good time to come up with the right kind of story about why she was out here in the hallway wearing nothing but a towel.

  She realized he must be watching her through the peephole, so she opened and closed the towel just in the direction of his door. She looked up at the peephole, hoping that he really was there. She wagged her eyebrows up and down, and mouthed the word “cupcake.”

  The door didn’t move.

  Uh-oh. She kept her eyes on that doorknob, willing it to turn, but keeping her ears open for the sound of anyone in the hallway. Whole minutes were ticking by and she was getting cold, damn it. She reminded herself of why she was doing this. She wanted him to know that she was sorry for the way she had treated him the other night, and was now trying to back up her apology with this gesture of risk.

  Maybe I should turn up the heat a little. She opened the towel again, tilted her head way back against the wall, her face toward the ceiling, and inhaled deeply, letting her breasts rise and fall a few times. But the cold made her nipples into hard and tight little points. This was taking much longer than she had anticipated. Looking at the peephole, she closed the towel and said in a loud voice, “Show’s over.” The door didn’t move. Damn it!

  Ding! She heard an elevator. Shit. She went rigid, looking down the hallway in the direction of the ding sound. She waited, and sure enough, the elevator door opened and a waiter with a room service cart wheeled out. She looked frantically at the peephole, eyes wide and pointing in the direction of the elevator, but the door didn’t open. She knew damned well he was watching!

  The waiter was bent over, hands on the push bar, pushing the cart down the hallway, coming closer, in no hurry. The glassware and china on the cart clinked a delicate little rhythm while the metal trays under the cart snapped in time. Madison turned around, pretending to gaze at an abstract painting on the wall, her face getting hot. This is not happening.

  She hoped that the waiter would assume that she was returning from the pool. Then she wondered if the hotel even had a pool. As she faced the wall, obsessed with the painting, the cart drew closer till she thought it would pass.

  But it stopped.

  She kept staring at the painting. If he doesn’t open that door right now, his death will be slow.

  She heard, “Ma’am?” She turned slowly wearing a lovely smile, her fingers drained of any blood from clutching the towel so hard.

  “This is for you. Will you sign here, please?” The smile on her face went rigid when she looked down. There sat a cocktail. A rum and Coke. The bill was charged to ExBoy’s room number.

  She looked up at the peephole sending death rays through it and signed, adding a little gigantic something to tip the waiter.

  His eyes went huge and he said, “Thank you! Thank you, ma’am! Have a wonderful night!” Pushing the cart in the opposite direction, he returned to the elevator with a big grin, looking back over his shoulder at Madison. She smiled, hanging onto her towel with one hand, and lifted her drink to him in a toast with the other as he wheeled into the elevator, happy. The elevator door closed.

  ExBoy opened his door, unencumbered by clothing, and leaned casually against the side of the doorframe. There was that loaded weapon again.

  “You never told me you were kinky,” he said.

  She stepped closer, relieved he finally had opened the door. “You call this kinky? Please. I have the same agent as Jen. I could tell you some stories.”

  “No need. You proved your point.” He took her drink away while his other arm encircled her waist, pulling her into the doorway and lifting her off her feet. He murmured, “Now it’s my turn to prove a few things.”

  He turned them toward the interior of the room as he kissed her, her feet never touching the ground. The door closed, the towel fell, and seconds later he threw her down on the bed.

  The bounce was delightful.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She awoke from the after-sex nap to find ExBoy sitting up in bed, talking on the hotel phone, his sandy colored hair hanging near his eyes. Reviving from the short sleep, she heard the words “room service” as she slid across the luscious sheets to reach him, laying her head on his pillow and tickling his side. He gave a mild jerk, twisting around to grab her hand as it turned into a silent little arm wrestle while he ordered the food.

  “Also, add the dessert sampler of… hold on,” he looked at Madison and asked, “chocolate or citrus?”

  “Are you sure you want to do that? That’s going to be expensive.”

  Holding the phone away, he bent down, his blue eyes directly in her face, and gave her a quick kiss. He repeated his question. “Chocolate or citrus?”

  “Chocolate.”

  As she rolled over and sat up, the swoosh and whisper of crisp bed linens spoke of a luxury she was not accustomed to. Cheap sheets didn’t make sounds like soft rustling leaves. She could get used to this. She dared not.

  Although she still had her problems to contend with, she was sure the worst was over. When Grandpa got back, their little family would pick up the pieces and start over.

  For now, she accepted ExBoy’s invitation to stay the night. Her affection for him elevated; she had a million questions about his past, his dreams, his goals.

  Later, room service indeed arrived with a full spread, and after all the exertion, desperate clutching, and overdue orgasms, Madison was starved. The table being wheeled in brought its own excitement, and Madison was amazed at the luxurious feeling from the simple act of being fed right now.

  The part that seemed to confuse ExBoy was the eagerness of the two waiters that brought the cart. They were all smiles and nods with him. They would have rubbed his feet if he had asked. She realized it was probably because of the giant tip she had signed for earlier when ExBoy had a drink sent to her out in the hallway. Word must have spread among the staff. A little payback seemed appropriate at the time, but now she bit her lip wondering what mischief ExBoy would arrange when he found out.

  They sat around in leisure, enjoying hors d’oeuvres and wine, tender steaks, potatoes, and buttered zucchini. Madison took note of his appetite. Impressive. She knew she wouldn’t be able to eat everything on her plate, the serving sizes being so huge, but she was going to have fun trying.

  She listened while he talked about the convention tomorrow. Normally, all this zombie silliness was not something she would have sought out on her own. But seeing it through his eyes, she began to appreciate the fun in it and listening to him in his excitement charmed her. He was animated and happy.

  But when she tried to ask about his family, he clammed up.

  After a moment he asked, “Why do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know. Because it’s normal to ask, I guess.” She was getting full and decided to save room for the chocolate dessert sampler. But one more bite of buttered zucchini first.

  “I don’t think it should matter,” he said. “It’s not important.” He put his fork down.

  “Well, true, it has nothing to do with how I feel about you, but you can’t say it’s not important.” She was a little surprised by his response but decided there were still plenty of other things to talk about. “Okay. Well, what about your art? Tell me about that.”

  “What about it?”

  “Well, it’s amazing! I had no idea you were that good. Did you study in art school or something?”

  “No.”

  She waited for him to expound but he didn’t, and he seemed content to let the silence sit there. “Where do you come up with all those ideas?” she asked. “How do you…”

  “I don’t know,” he said quickly. “I just do.” Then in a lighter tone, he said, “Hey!” With some of his animation returning, he asked, “Do you mind if I get to work? I have
some signs for the booth I want to make.”

  Taken aback, she said, “Did I say something wrong?”

  Picking up his fork again, he used the flat side to pat a piece of chocolate cheesecake on his plate, making tiny grooves with the prongs of the fork. He exhaled. “No.”

  She stayed quiet hoping he would talk. ExBoy was something of an enigma to her since the beginning. “I don’t like talking about my family,” he said. “And I don’t like analyzing my art. I’d rather keep enjoying it without thinking about why or how. They don’t approve of it, and I don’t care.” He took a bite of the chocolate cheesecake. “Good enough?” he asked.

  “Wow. That’s it, huh? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  He watched her as he ate the chocolate cheesecake, his face a stubborn mask.

  She knew she wouldn’t get any more out of him. She said. “I was just trying to get to know you more.”

  “I know. That’s what gets to me about you. You want to see more.” He used the fork to skim off just the top layer of chocolate icing. “It freaks me out,” he said, aiming the icing at her lips. She opened her mouth and accepted the icing as he pulled out the fork, “and draws me in.”

  She licked her bottom lip. “I know about family trouble.”

  “I guess you do,” he said, and left it at that.

  Later at his desk, ExBoy worked on one last sign for the booth. Madison watched him, warning herself he might be sexy as hell, but she’d probably never get much more than that. He talked like she was the one who kept putting the brakes on any relationship between them, but she didn’t buy that.

  Meanwhile, she really did want to help him at his booth tomorrow. She had a few surprises lined up for him and one more phone call, this one to Sound Beating, should do it. She didn’t want him to hear her on the phone so she said, “I’m going downstairs to buy a few sundries. I’ll be right back.”

  He looked up with a devilish gleam in his eye and said, “If you forget the key card, just take your clothes off. I promise I’ll get you in here fast this time.”

  “That’ll never happen again.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ll never owe you penance like that again.”

  He looked back down at his work and said, “I’ll think of something.”

  She grabbed the key card and left the room.

  *****

  Early in the morning, hours before the doors opened for the convention, they set out the rest of ExBoy’s artwork at the booth. He used the larger works to fill up some of the empty looking spots within his space. The boxes of books went under the table and were well hidden by the black, floor length tablecloth. Books sat in neat piles on the tabletop. Alongside the books sat long narrow comic book boxes the exact height and width of standard comic books, made to accommodate comics standing upright. That would allow ExBoy’s customers to flip through the various plastic bags of his artwork. He had a nice open spot on the table where he could autograph his book for a potential buyer.

  The cover of his book puzzled Madison. Besides the title, Infect Me, and the author’s name, Xander Boyd, it showed three zombies trying to get away from a normal looking young woman. She had her forearm around the throat of one zombie, while she desperately grabbed for the second zombie that was slipping out of her reach. The third zombie was running away.

  “I don’t get it,” said Madison. “The cover shows the zombies trying to get away from her, instead of the other way around.”

  He said, “It’s a comedy horror. She wants to be a zombie, but finds that she can’t get bit to save her life.”

  Madison thought about that for a minute. “You are a strange man. But I mean that in a good way.”

  She looked up, seeing the surprise that she had arranged for him walking down the aisle toward his booth. Without his knowing, she had made phone calls last night on his behalf. With a little prodding, Spenser and Target had agreed to be zombies hanging around ExBoy’s booth. Target in particular was quite eager. But best of all, Crystal had agreed to try to get Toonie out of the house by bringing her to the convention, and Madison could see now that they were doing more than just attending. They, too, were walking toward them, made up as zombies.

  Crystal, her beautiful complexion now a deathly pallor, was dressed like a cheerleader with her little pleated skirt and sleeveless shell top in bloody tatters, carrying what Madison had thought was a dirtied pom-pom but now realized was a head with long bloody hair.

  Spenser wore a nurse’s old fashioned white uniform, with a little white hat attached to her blonde hair pinned up like Tippy Hedren’s in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Choosing to keep her face its prettiest, she sported a bloody gouge on her left forearm. Instead of sensible nurse’s shoes, she wore high heels. The blood on her uniform appeared to have been sprayed and splotched, as if she’d been too near someone who had burst an artery.

  Target wore jeans and a faded Robot Moon Productions t-shirt with a few blood streaks running down the front, and carried a dark blue backpack. A big rubber dagger appeared to be embedded in Target’s forehead, blood running down her face. A fresh kill.

  Toonie wore an old, dirty white chef’s jacket and pants, complete with tall chef’s hat. The jacket was torn and bloodied with a big gash on the side. Something that passed for guts and sinew hung out from the hole in the jacket. She carried a rubber meat cleaver and looked like she really wanted to use it right now.

  ExBoy had been looking down at the table, arranging and rearranging the pile of books, his concentration on overdrive for such a small task. “I have a surprise for you,” said Madison. “It might not involve a bikini, but I think you’ll like it.” Spenser, Target, Crystal, and Toonie stepped up in all their zombie glory.

  “Xander!” cried Target. “Madison said you could use a little help. Zombie cavalry to the rescue.”

  ExBoy looked up, confused at first, then said, “Target? Spenser?” He looked them all up and down, their undead appeal sinking in while a big smile slowly grew on his face. “Seriously?”

  Introductions were quickly made for Crystal and Toonie, and the four zombie women made nice with proper “hello, good to meet you, hello…” as bloody handshakes were exchanged along with a little nervous laughter.

  To Madison, Crystal said, “I was shocked Aunt Toonie agreed. She wants to help, although she’s not really happy about her costume, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Toonie fumed. “Just say it. I look like an ass!”

  Before she could assure Toonie that she looked fantastic, ExBoy grabbed Madison up and planted a big kiss on her, saying, “Thank you! It’s awesome.”

  “Damn it,” said Target. “I didn’t have my camera ready.”

  Having just shook hands with Toonie, Spenser said, “You’re the one who made the cookies. The oh-my-God cookies!”

  Toonie warmed up at that and smiled. Admiring the Tippy Hedren hairstyle, she told Spenser, “I love your hair. I wore mine like that in high school. Years ago, of course.”

  “Thank you,” said Spenser.

  “But why are you wearing high heels if you’re supposed to be a nurse?”

  “High heels give me a different perspective,” said Spenser. “I always seem to be cuter up here.”

  Toonie considered that and mumbled, “Then I must be just adorable.”

  Madison said, “Target, I have to get my own costume ready now. Spenser brought me some old clothes she was going to get rid of. Did you bring the liquid latex?”

  “Everything’s in my pack here. I brought some prosthetic wounds, too, and white contact lenses.”

  Madison was delighted. “I’ve always wanted to try white contacts. You can see through them, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Things will look a bit cloudy to you, but they’ll make your eyes look so creepy,” said Target. “And I can help you with the prosthetic wounds. I brought the spirit gum to apply them.”

  ExBoy finished a conversation with Toonie, and wal
ked over to Madison. When she asked him for the key card, he handed it to her, saying, “Your neighbor Toonie looks fantastic. But for some reason she keeps calling me Tighty Whitey.” It was difficult for Madison to keep her face blank as she shrugged her shoulders and took the key card.

  *****

  Upstairs in the room, Madison and Target hurried to get Madison’s costume pulled together. The hotel would be opening the doors to the convention very soon now.

  Together they slashed, tore, and dirtied up an old worn out one-piece bathing suit with matching poolside cover-up that Spenser had donated. With added sunglasses, floppy hat, and sandals, Madison intended to act as if Infect Me were her summer reading. She pinned her hair up so that when she added the floppy hat, it would be able to cover all her hair. Then she added the white contact lenses. Whoa. They did have a mild cloudy effect on her vision. She shouldn’t drive a car with them, but she could see just fine to see how freaking cool the effect was! I’m undead royalty, bitches! That’s right. She always felt this sense of silly glee whenever she got a new costume.

  Madison had her usual small theater makeup kit from her tote bag, but the supplies that Target brought blew her away. In the bright light of the bathroom, Target spread out her supplies on the counter. She brought out the spirit gum and used it to apply a small rubber prosthetic that looked like a fake wound in the form of a skinny slash on Madison’s cheek. Then she painted a few patches of liquid latex on Madison’s arms and legs. While the liquid latex was still wet, Target opened a small plastic container full of fresh coffee grounds, mixed with uncooked oatmeal. She pressed that mixture onto the sticky surface of the still wet liquid latex.

  Once the liquid latex was dry, she brushed off the excess coffee grounds and oatmeal mixture, then painted the fake blood on top. Madison now appeared to have open wounds that had been dragged through dirt or had skidded through gravel. By now the spirit gum holding the prosthetic wound on Madison’s cheek was dry. Unlike Crystal, who had done her costume and makeup to look all the way to decaying, or Spenser who insisted on looking alive and pretty, Madison decided to go partway, looking dead, without decay. So Target added a touch of greenish grey color to give a deathly pallor, hiding the healthy tone of Madison’s skin, plus a little more makeup to blend in the edges of the prosthetic wound. Madison thought half of the enjoyment of the entertainment arts was the creation of an illusion. It was plain damn fun.