by Julie Wetzel
“I didn’t know you liked retro stuff.” Vanessa looked over the outfit Vicky was dressed in. “It looks very…”
“Authentic?” Vicky supplied with a smile.
Vanessa giggled at her. “Yes. Where did you get it?”
“Mr. Ritter had a box of stuff stashed in the back of his closet.” Vicky shrugged.
“Must have been from an ex-girlfriend,” Vanessa giggled again. “So, he likes the hippy type. Tall, dark, handsome, rich, and peace loving. What more could you want?”
Vicky shook her head at her best friend. Answering “human” would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer. “So, where are Beth and Maggie?” She changed the subject.
Vanessa shrugged. “They’ll meet us at the mall. Maggie couldn’t get out right away.”
Vicky nodded; that was about par for the course. Adjusting the top of her shirt, she said, “I know where we need to make our first stop.”
Vanessa grinned at her friend’s lack of proper undergarments as they ran out into the rain.
***
The clerk waited patiently as Vicky dug around in the messenger bag for her wallet. It had to be in there. She had seen it when she pulled the phone out to call Vanessa.
“I can’t find my wallet,” Vicky complained and started pulling stuff out and setting it on the countertop.
Vanessa looked on in concern.
Vicky pulled out the last item, turned the bag upside down, and shook it, but her wallet wasn’t there. “Well, crap.” She huffed before picking up the books and slipping them back into the bag.
Vanessa reached for her purse. “I can spot you.”
“It’s okay,” Vicky answered and waved the offer away. “Mr. Ritter said I could use the petty cash to get some new clothing for work. I’ll just pay him back when I find my wallet.” She pulled open one of the billfolds and paid the clerk in cash.
Vanessa gaped at the stack of bills in Vicky’s care.
Vicky slipped the receipt into the back of the wallet before putting it back in the satchel. She picked up the pink-striped bag and headed out of the shop with her new underwear.
“How much money did he give you?” Vanessa asked.
“I haven’t counted it recently.” Vicky shrugged. “But he usually keeps around three to five thousand in there.”
Vanessa gawked at her. “And you leave that thing sitting around at the bar?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“I can’t leave it at home.”
“What do you have in that thing anyway?” Vanessa eyed the bag.
Vicky shrugged again. “Just the usual stuff: appointment books and ledgers, Mr. Ritter’s checkbook, his credit cards, the petty cash, and a few other odds and ends.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened again.
“I started keeping my stuff in there, too. It’s just easier carrying one thing.” Vicky thought about the bag at her side and what was in it. “The funny thing is—Mr. Ritter can find things in it that I know aren’t there.”
“Like what?” Vanessa asked as the two girls walked through the mall.
“Usually, little things,” Vicky explained. “He’s always getting the key for his Aston Martin out of it, but I swear he never puts it in there. I’ve also seen him pull odd pouches out—he’ll take something out and then toss the pouch back in, but I can never find it again. I once found a foot-long, articulated, silver snake in there.” Vicky stopped as she remembered that surprise. “Scared the daylights out of me. I showed it to Mr. Ritter, and he told me to just put it back. When I went to look for it later, it was gone.”
“Sounds like it’s possessed.” Vanessa glared at the normal-looking bag. “Where did he get that thing?”
“I don’t ask those questions,” Vicky answered. “I think it’s better for my sanity if I don’t know.”
“Sounds like that guy’s demon bag from the movie with the truck driver in Chinatown,” Vanessa said.
“You mean Egg Shen from Big Trouble in Little China?” Vicky asked.
“Yeah, that one,” Vanessa said, pointing at Vicky. “Didn’t his bag contain the universe, or something?”
“I think he said it contained ‘fire, wind, all that kind of thing’,” Vicky quoted the movie.
Vanessa shrugged. “Have you looked for those things in your bag?” She grinned at her friend.
Vicky rolled her eyes. “Let’s go get the others.” She bumped into Vanessa so she stumbled away, giggling.
Vanessa recovered and came back, grinning, to Vicky’s side. “Yeah, we have your boss’s money to spend.”
Vicky rolled her eyes again. Now all she had to do was rein in her friends, so they didn’t spend all the cash in the bag. She wasn’t sure if her bank account could handle them.
“We’re just going to drop these off and then go get dinner,” Vicky informed her friends as they rode the elevator up to Darien’s penthouse.
“But we want to take a look around,” Beth protested.
“I’ll show you around, but we’re going to be quick about it,” Vicky assured them.
“How far up are we going?” Maggie asked as the light on the elevator registered the tenth floor.
“The fourteenth floor,” Vicky said.
“How many floors does this place have?” Vanessa asked.
“Fifteen,” Vicky answered.
“So, he doesn’t have the penthouse.” Vanessa sounded a little disappointed.
“Um… he does,” Vicky answered with a little blush. “The living space is on the fourteenth floor, and the bedrooms are on the fifteenth.”
Her friends stared at her in silent shock as the elevator came to a stop and the door slid open. “This is us.” She stepped into the foyer. They were greeted by a line of flowers along the opposite steps.
“Someone sent flowers,” Maggie teased as they stood in the foyer.
“Those were sent to me at the hospital.” Vicky looked over the bouquets. All the flowers had made it in good condition.
“I didn’t know you knew this many people.” Beth looked amazed.
“Most of them came from Mr. Ritter’s contacts,” Vicky explained. “This way.” She led her friends to the left of the flowers and into the living room. Dropping her shopping behind the couch, she pulled off the messenger bag. “What do you think?” She looked back at her friends staring around the room in amazement.
Beth dropped her packages next to Vicky’s before heading over to the window to look out. “This is fantastic!” she answered, waving for the others to come join her. The sun had gone down, and the lights of the city twinkled against the darkened sky.
“Thank you.”
The four girls gathered at the window turned to look at the source of the answer. Darien stood barefoot, just inside the dining room, with an open bottle of wine and four glasses. The women stood silently as he entered the room and set the bottle on the glass table. Vicky couldn’t help but stare at him. The cotton shirt he was wearing looked amazingly soft, and those faded jeans hung from his hips so sweetly.
Vanessa nudged her as Darien carefully set the glasses on the table before pouring some red wine into each of them.
Vicky glared at her for the implied suggestion.
Darien cupped two glasses in each hand and made his way over to the window where Vicky and her friends were standing. He offered the wine to his guests, and the girls each took one.
“This looks nice.” Darien tucked a loose strand of Vicky’s shortened hair away from her face. She didn’t really like getting her hair cut that short, but there was no way around it with the large section burnt out of the back.
“Thank you.” Vicky blushed as she tried to hide behind her wineglass. Her heart fluttered slightly at Darien’s sudden closeness.
“Have you ladies eaten yet?” He turned his attention to the other women watching him.
“Not yet,” Vicky answered. “We were going to drop the shopping off, and then go out for something.”
“Excellent.” Darien went back t
o pick up the wine bottle. “I have dinner here, if you would like to join me.”
An appreciative mumble of agreement came from Vicky’s friends as they accepted his offer.
“It’ll be a little longer, if you wanted to tend to your shopping and show your friends around first.” He disappeared back through the dining room and into the kitchen. Vicky took a long pull of the wine in her glass to try and calm her nerves. She hadn’t expected this.
“I like him. He’s sweet,” Maggie said as she sipped her wine. She looked at the glass in her hand. “And this is very good.”
“Grand tour time!” Vanessa cheered.
Vicky sighed and shook her head. Suddenly, she felt like she had no control over anything in her life. “Grab the bags so we can take them to my room, and I’ll show you around.” She went to gather up her things.
***
“This is delicious, Darien,” Vanessa said before she put another forkful of pasta into her mouth. The sauce was just the right consistency, clinging to the crevices on the rotini.
Darien swallowed the bite he had taken. “Thank you. An old friend taught me this recipe when I last visited Venice.”
“So, you’ve been to Italy.” Maggie stirred her noodles around.
“It’s been a while, but yes.” He smiled a little and sent a knowing glance at Vicky. She nearly choked on the bite in her mouth. It took Beth patting her on the back and half a glass of water until she could breathe again.
She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say that. Sure, it sounded innocent enough, but his tone and that smile spoke of the true meaning in his words. A meaning that only Vicky caught. Wasn’t he supposed to be playing human?
The rest of dinner was spent with Darien telling Vicky’s friends about all the places he’d visited when he was ‘younger’. Vicky listened intently as he talked, expecting her friends to call him on it, but they never did. She guessed they assumed it was due to the fact he had grown up mega-rich, not because he walked his way around the world by night.
“I wish I could travel like that,” Beth said dreamily. “It would be fantastic to see the world.”
“It’s not as much fun as it used to be.” Darien swirled the wine around in his glass. “The world’s a whole lot harder to get around in these days.”
Vicky clamped her mouth shut so she wouldn’t say anything that would give him away. The red wine was starting to go to her head.
“Just getting through the airport now is a nightmare,” Vanessa complained.
Vicky snorted as she tried to suppress a laugh. She was sure increased security at the airport was not what Darien was talking about. Her friends looked over at her.
“Looks like someone’s had too much wine,” Beth teased as she pretended to take Vicky’s wineglass away.
“Hey.” Vicky pulled it back. “I don’t have to drive home.” She made a face at her friend.
“True. You just have to stagger up a flight of steps,” Maggie pointed out, and Vicky glared at her.
Darien stood up from the table and picked up his and Vicky’s plates. “I think we’re done with these.” He stacked the plates together and picked up Beth’s. The other girls went to stand up to help. “I got it,” he said as he stacked theirs with the ones already in his hands. “Just relax for a bit, while I get dessert.”
Vicky’s three friends watched Darien disappear into the kitchen.
“Where can I get me one of those?” Vanessa asked as soon as the door was shut.
“Vanessa,” Vicky hissed at her best friend.
“I want one, too,” Beth added from the seat next to her.
“You really are lucky to have found a guy like that,” Maggie added from the other side of the table. “He’s rich, well traveled, caring, and he can cook.”
“He’s my boss, not my boyfriend,” Vicky protested again.
“Well, if he’s free, can I have him?” Vanessa asked. The rest of the girls giggled.
“No,” Vicky protested. “Mine,” she said, without thinking about it. The girls giggled at her again.
“What’s yours?” Darien asked as he walked back into the room.
Vicky’s friends nearly died laughing as Vicky blushed the deepest shade of red she could.
“Nothing.” She tried to hide as Darien set plates of tiramisu on the table.
He smiled down at her innocently. From the kitchen, he had heard every word the girls had said.
As he went back to get the last two plates, Vicky picked up and drained her wineglass, trying to cool her face.
“You could always get your ‘nothing’ to carry you up to bed,” Vanessa teased. The flush that had started to fade from Vicky’s skin came back as she remembered Darien carrying her up from the car.
“Oh, I think she likes that idea,” Beth said.
“Shut up,” Vicky said playfully to her friends. The girls giggled at her again as Darien came back into the room with the rest of the desserts. They giggled more as Darien passed out the plates, before starting in on their cake.
“This is fantastic,” Beth said around the first bite of the creamy cake. “I need this recipe.”
A hint of a grin curled the corner of his mouth as he mashed his tiramisu up with his fork. “I’ll write it down for you,” he said, licking a little of the dessert from his fork. Vicky noticed he was playing with his food more than eating it.
It didn’t take them long to finish, and the girls insisted they help clear away the dishes.
***
“How do I get to live in a place like this?” Vanessa asked as they stared out of the windows of the breakfast room at the city lights.
Beth reminded Vanessa how Vicky had gotten to be so lucky. “Easy. Get hired by the owner of a corporation and set your apartment on fire.”
“With my luck, he’d be some old-as-dirt bloodsucker, out for my body,” Maggie said. Vicky stood silently and looked out the window as her friends giggled. She didn’t want to tell them how close they were to the truth.
“By the way,” Beth looked over at their silent companion, “how are your burns?”
Vicky cleared her throat lightly, looking for something to say. “Healing.” She didn’t know how to tell them Darien had made them go away completely. “I told you they weren’t that bad.”
“That’s good.” Vanessa looked back out at the darkening world. “It’s starting to get late. We need to get going.”
“Yeah, then Vicky can get to her ‘nothing’.” Beth giggled.
Vicky rolled her eyes and shook her head again. There was no getting her friends to behave; she had stopped trying a long time ago.
The girls set their glasses on the counter next to the sink as they made their way through the kitchen and back out to the living room.
“Thank you all for coming shopping with me.” Vicky hugged each of her friends in turn.
“It was fun,” Vanessa answered.
“I always enjoy spending someone else’s money,” Beth added.
Vicky chuckled as she walked them to the elevator.
“Where did Darien go?” Maggie looked around as if he would reappear upon hearing his name.
“I don’t know.” Vicky shrugged. He’d slipped away sometime when they were looking around the kitchen. She caught him holding his chest and figured he had eaten too much of the food. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”
“Well, thank him for dinner when you see him.” Maggie hugged Vicky again.
“Good night,” Vicky said as her three friends got on the elevator and left her to her first night in the new home.
Vicky let out a sigh and went back to the kitchen. Looking at the plates and dishes setting on the countertop, she sorted them out and found some soap and a strainer under the counter. She was halfway through the dishes and elbow-deep in suds, when Darien came back into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he walked over to where Vicky was rinsing the last of the plates before starting on the pots.
“You could have just loaded them into the dishwasher.” Darien caressed the waterlogged skin on her palm. Vicky blushed at her oversight.
“I didn’t think about that,” she answered. The dishwasher in her old apartment didn’t work well, so she was used to doing the dishes by hand.
“Come.” Darien led her by the hand away from the sink and the damp dishes. “Let me dress this for you. I’ll deal with that later.”
Vicky looked back over her shoulder at the pans still sitting on the counter. “But—” She tried to protest as Darien led her into the foyer and past the line of bouquets still waiting for someone to tend to them.
“Don’t worry about it,” he soothed as he took her up the steps. “If I don’t get to it, my housekeeper will.”
“You have a housekeeper?” Vicky asked in shock.
“Of course I do.” He laughed at her. “You don’t think I keep this place clean by myself, do you?”
Vicky didn’t answer as Darien led her down the hall and through the door to the master suite. Pulling her into the master bathroom, he placed her on a low stool by the vanity. Darien examined her hand without releasing it. Patting it dry, he placed the towel on the counter and rested her hand on it. Picking up a brown bottle, he pulled a cork out of it and poured a small amount of clear liquid onto a clean bandage. He re-corked the bottle, set it back down on the counter, and then picked up another bottle to repeat the process.
Concern bubbled up in Vicky when smoke started issuing from the cotton pad on the countertop. “What’s that?” she asked as Darien added a third liquid, turning the smoke acid green.
“Something to make your hand better.” Carefully picking up the smoking cloth, he looked from the cloth to his assistant. She glanced up at him as he gripped her wrist so she couldn’t pull her hand away. “This might sting a bit,” he warned, turning the cloth over and pressing it into the wound.