Part 17 (1/2)
She debated with herself about whether to tell Mitch. She was still angry with him, feeling hurt and raw at the fight they'd had that morning. The fact that this whole secret admirer business was over really didn't change anything. Mitch would still want her to quit Night Whispers Night Whispers. He'd still want her to change. And she just couldn't.
He didn't deserve to be afraid for her, though. Squaring her shoulders, she walked downstairs and knocked on his door. When he opened it, she noticed a flash of relief crossed his face when he saw her standing there, but as she remained motionless in the hall, he stiffened.
”I just wanted to let you know, so you won't be worried, that the person who's been writing me and leaving me gifts was caught this morning. It turns out he was a lonely man with an overactive imagination who works at the station and never had the nerve to tell me he admired me to my face. He was never a real threat, and has resigned. I'm sure I'll never see him again.”
Mitch nodded steadily, feeling greatly relieved. He hadn't been able to think of a single thing all day except how to keep Kelsey safe. Now, it seemed, she no longer needed him to.
”So what now?” she asked softly.
Mitch didn't answer right away. The stalking scare was over, at least for the time being. As for their relations.h.i.+p, he just didn't know.
”You were lucky this time, Kelsey,” he said finally. ”What about next time? What if the next guy's not just some poor sap with a big imagination?”
She didn't respond. Mitch didn't try to make it easy on her, either. He sensed she wanted to work things out. He probably could have told her they'd move on, forget about it now that this whole mess was over with. But he couldn't let it go. Because deep inside he knew that there would, inevitably, be a next time.
She turned her back to him and walked back up the stairs.
MITCH HAD ABSOLUTELY no desire to attend the Downtown Charitable Society banquet that evening. He was very proud that his articles had drawn attention to the plight of the Chinese girls. But, somehow, attending the elegant affair with all of the rich Baltimore elite who dabbled in charity just didn't appeal to him. What was important was the plaque he'd be bringing home, not hobn.o.bbing with the likes of Amanda Langley's father and his rich board of trustees friends. And those were the type of men who made up the Downtown Charitable Society. no desire to attend the Downtown Charitable Society banquet that evening. He was very proud that his articles had drawn attention to the plight of the Chinese girls. But, somehow, attending the elegant affair with all of the rich Baltimore elite who dabbled in charity just didn't appeal to him. What was important was the plaque he'd be bringing home, not hobn.o.bbing with the likes of Amanda Langley's father and his rich board of trustees friends. And those were the type of men who made up the Downtown Charitable Society.
He heard Kelsey leave to go to work at around seven. She paused briefly outside his apartment door. Wondering for a heart-stopping second if she was going to burst in and demand he make love to her, he admitted to himself that if she did he had no qualms about missing the banquet.
She didn't.
The ceremony was held at a hotel near Harbor Place. Mitch mingled during the c.o.c.ktail hour, finding himself slipping back into the role of the distinguished, detached writer. As he'd expected, Amanda's father was there, and Amanda was on his arm, looking every bit as lovely and sophisticated as she ever had, in a long beige sheath and a diamond choker.
”Congratulations, Mitch. You look well,” she said as she slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him.
”Thank you. I'm surprised to see you here.”
”Well,” she admitted with a trill of laughter, ”I have a confession to make. I made quite certain Daddy and the rest of the board members of the society knew all about the wonders you'd done with your writing. I wanted this for you, Mitch.”
She tightened her grip on his arm, pressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against him, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng an unmistakable invitation. Mitch felt more uncomfortable by the minute.
”Let's go take our seats,” she said. ”I've arranged for you to sit with Daddy and me.”
Mitch followed her to the table and spent most of the evening listening to rich men congratulate themselves on their charitable work. Not one of them looked as if he'd ever actually seen a homeless person, though they all claimed to be terribly concerned about them.
Accepting his award with his prepared remarks, Mitch bowed his head at the perfunctory applause and wished he could make a getaway out the back. The people surrounding him seemed to fade into a blur. They were frivolous and selfish, amusingly catty and condescending. And he knew he could end up just like them.
He felt sick to his stomach.
”Mitch, do say you'll come over for Thanksgiving dinner,” Amanda invited. ”It was so lovely last year when you joined us. And since you don't have any family nearby, we'd hate for you to be alone.”
Mitch thought about the upcoming holidays. For the first time in several years, he pictured himself actually enjoying them. Cooking a turkey, watching a football game, eating so much he could barely move from the table. But when he pictured all these things, it wasn't Amanda's father's mansion he saw. It was his own kitchen.
And Kelsey.
The banquet broke up around eleven, and everyone drifted outside to wait for their limousines. Amanda held on to his arm and urged Mitch to come out for a drink. He never even considered it.
He wanted to be home with Kelsey. Tonight, Thanksgiving night, every night before and after. He loved her. Mitch had admitted to himself that he loved her long before now, but finally the truth of it hit him. He didn't love Kelsey for the person he wanted her to be. He loved her for the zany, irrepressible, gutsy person she was.
She had been right. In wanting her to give up her show, he'd been asking her to be someone she wasn't. He was basically urging her to do what he had done in his own life: subdue emotion, live logically and by the rules. Doing just that had made Mitch secure financially and socially, but had also left him feeling vaguely unsatisfied, that he was missing out on something. And when Kelsey came waltzing into his ordered home, she'd reminded him of what that was. Pa.s.sion. Exuberance. Excitement. Laughter. All the rich spices that blended to make a person's life complete-all the flavors he'd tried so hard to make bland through work and ambition.
This evening's glimpse of what his world had been like without her was all it took to convince him he wanted Kelsey to stay exactly the way she was. And to stay with him. Mitch grinned and laughed out loud. He felt like shouting to the moon, but settled for whistling instead.
He was about to make his excuses to Amanda when he saw her eyes widen and her mouth drop open in shock. She stood under a covered awning on a sidewalk outside the hotel and stared out at the street. Mitch followed her stare.
A city bus belching diesel made its way sluggishly up the street to the nearby covered stop. The bus was a typical grimy gray, and only one person waited to board it. Mitch didn't realize what had so captured Amanda's attention until he saw his own face gliding to a slow stop right in front of his eyes.
”Son of a...” he muttered softly, not believing what he saw.
A huge picture covered the side of the bus-a picture of Mitch and Kelsey...or, more accurately, of the pirate and his wench. A photo of Mitch bending toward Kelsey's heaving chest had been blown up to about six feet by six feet and attached to the side of the bus. A caption read ”Spend the night with Lady Love on WAJO.” Though shown only in profile, both of them were easily recognizable in the provocative shot.
”This is unbelievable,” Amanda said shrilly, her voice drawing the attention of everyone else standing nearby. Mitch saw them follow her gaze to the bus and heard the whispers of all those who'd just paid him tribute.
”They can't simply put your face up on the side of a bus. You get a lawyer, Mitch,” Amanda continued, her voice getting louder by the second. ”You need to sue those people. This is an outrage!”
Mitch watched her squawk, her feathers completely ruffled. He saw the disapproving frowns on other faces around him.
”Yes, it certainly is all wrong,” Mitch said, nodding thoughtfully as he stared at the bus.
Not looking at anyone, he grabbed a black marker from the valet stand. He walked the dozen steps to the side of the bus, reached up and quickly drew a small black mustache on his own face on the photograph. Stepping back to survey his work, he nodded at a job well done as the bus ground its gears and pulled away from the stop.
Mitch glanced over his shoulder, grinning at Amanda's openmouthed stare. ”I knew I would have looked better if I'd had time to grow a mustache!”
Mitch laughed out loud at the shocked expressions on the faces of the crowd he'd just spent the evening with. Amanda looked as though she'd swallowed a quart of sour milk. Her father frowned forbiddingly. Mitch felt better than he had in ages.
Whistling, he tossed the pen to the young valet as he walked down the street toward his car.
”h.e.l.lO, BALTIMORE, and welcome to another evening of Night Whispers Night Whispers.”
Kelsey glanced at her notes as she spoke into the microphone.
”Tonight I want to explore relations.h.i.+ps. We've all had them, some more successfully than others,” she said with a slight laugh.
”Let's not focus on the sweet romance that builds gradually, with emotions leading to physical expression. After all, this is Night Whispers is Night Whispers you're listening to. Think about those you're listening to. Think about those other other types. You know what I mean-when it starts with raw, physical attraction, builds into desire and fantasy, and finally reaches sensuous, body-rocking lovemaking.” types. You know what I mean-when it starts with raw, physical attraction, builds into desire and fantasy, and finally reaches sensuous, body-rocking lovemaking.”
She paused, closed her eyes to let her listeners imagine what she was talking about, then continued.
”No question, the beginning of that type of relations.h.i.+p can involve ultimate pleasure. The antic.i.p.ation of finally being with someone who makes you hot enough to melt like ice cream on a sizzling summer day is worth the possibility of it going no further than one heated night of pa.s.sion.”
Kelsey forced herself to get her mind off a stormy October night when she and Mitch had exploded together and changed everything.
”But what happens if there is a next day? A next month, year or decade? When the hot, steamy s.e.x is done, and you're left looking at this person who's consumed your thoughts for a very long time. How do you segue into a real, meaningful relations.h.i.+p? Do you even want to?