Unknown - Cat_In_A_Hot_Pink_Pursuit

“I see … oh, my! You will be subjected to much of the health food that you so unwisely deplore. I see weight loss.”

“No! I need my fighting strength.”

“Not yours, alas. I see … hidden ways and motives and means.”

“Like what?”

The blue eyes slit open. “That is for me to know and you to find out.”

So, fine. I do not like the sound of blood and boiling oil, but at least they are forthright, unlike Karma.

“You are warned,” she intones in her most inscrutable whine. “You will encounter three divine emissaries of Bast herself and an old ghost. You will find the way of the dog your most useful weapon. Your efforts will get no credit.”

So what is new? I offer Karma a polite bow in farewell, taking care not to back into anything damaging to my undercarriage as I make my retreat.

As with all seeresses, Karma is best understood in retrospect.

Still, I have a few things to bear in mind. Particularly the boiling oil and the dog part.

Chapter 8

Separate Lies:

The Sequel

Little Red Riding Hood put on her visiting duds, picked up a basket, and walked through the woods to grandmother’s house, only a big bad wolf was waiting for her.

That night, after failing to sleep, Temple put on her best red Dorothy shoes, low-heeled slides with rhinestoned vamps across the toes, packed a basket full of adult goodies like a French loaf of jalapeno-cheese bread, a bottle of Chianti, and cinnamon-scented massage oil, among other delicacies. She then got into her red Miata to drive to Max’s house, where a recently distracted wolf was not expecting her.

She couldn’t explain her post-midnight raid on Max’s place, except that she wasn’t happy with their recent interactions, or lack of same. It was time to face the music and dance, like the song said. Or not. Either way, she’d know what the future held.

The horse knew the way, although that was from another fairy tale, the one where grandmothers’ houses still lurked down rural lanes.

The Miata’s hundred-some horses took her to Max’s neighborhood, all the houses decently dark. It was just past eleven P.M.

She parked three doors away and watched her back as she approached the familiar front door.

What she would do if he wasn’t home, she didn’t know. She also wasn’t sure he would be home. Max was up to something he wasn’t telling her about. She hoped it was something she could live with if she found out what.

No huntsmen seemed to be lurking in the vicinity, a good sign.

She rang the bell. Boldly. How else can you ring a doorbell at eleven P.M.?

When the door swung open, Granny was nowhere in sight. Just Max in his usual black, looking surprised, then pleased, then … worried.

“Temple.” He immediately grasped the purpose of the basket. “On a mission of mercy. To me. I could use it. Come in.”

“I’m not disturbing you—?”

“Oh, you are, but in the nicest of ways.”

He led her into the living room where a talk show she seldom stayed up long enough to see dominated a wide plasma TV screen.

“That’s new.” She pointed to the screen.

“This is newer.” He dredged the blue velvet one-shouldered maillot swimming suit from her basket. It was 50 percent spandex and looked just big enough for a Barbie doll. “You want to hit the spa?”

“Sort of the idea.”

“I could use it myself but … there are reasons. Why don’t I just open the wine. You can get warmed up in all that hot water?”

Actually, she was getting pretty warmed up without the aid of a hot tub.

She changed into her suit in the guest bathroom, then brought the basket out to the deck where an underwater Blue Hawaii light lit the bubbling hot water from below.

Heavenly!

Temple hadn’t realized how worried she’d been about her impromptu expedition to Max’s turf until she slipped under the hot water. Aaaah. Who would have thought the young woman had so much tension in her?

Two bubbles of glassware appeared on the drink indentations built into the spa’s side. Red wine, gleaming like Burmese rubies. Max sat on the hot tub lip.

He tugged at her one blue velvet shoulder strap. “Can velvet get wet?”

“Modem miracle, spandex for water babies.”

He chuckled and offered her a cracker with cheese from her CARE basket.

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be up,” she said.

He gave that remark the long pause any inadvertent double entendre deserved.

She laughed and sipped room-temperature wine, which felt cool compared to the hot tub.

“I’m glad you came,” he replied soberly, in kind.

“We seem to have been passing like ships in the night lately.”

“Agreed.” Max sipped from his wineglass, then spoke. Soberly. “I’m working up a new act. It’s secret. That’s why I’ve been so distracted. So absent.”

“Ummm.” She put her wet arms up to clasp his still-clothed ones, cables of steel. “No wonder you feel like Superman. That’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be ready to make it public. Maybe not for … months. It takes—”

“Discipline. Zen mania. Max! This is great news. I thought—”

“What?”

“That you’d lost interest in … things.”

“In magic, or you? Never you. Am I now breaking my thirty-five-year-old back to make waves in the magic game? Yes. Guilty. I can’t say when my new apprenticeship will end. I have to make a spectacular comeback.”

“Of course. I’m so glad. I thought you’d given up on magic.”

“No.”

“Well then.” Temple snuggled down into the churning water. The aquatic blue light reminded her of something? The Blue Light special at Kmart? “I have to tell you. I may be AWOL myself for, oh, a couple weeks or so.”

“So long? Really?”

She nodded, her chin dipping into a froth of bubbles.

“I have to … go home. Minnesota. My dad. A minor cardiac thing. A stent? Anyway, they want me there.”

“Of course.” He kissed the top of her head. “I hope your father is all right. I’ll miss you,” he said.

What a liar she was! She didn’t deserve sympathy! At least Max wouldn’t worry about her.

“I’m sorry, Temple.” His voice vibrated somewhere above her head but she felt it in her heart. “Things will be better later, won’t they?”

“Absolutely. And now … they’re just perfect.”

“Just perfect.” He pulled away to lift his wineglass as her fingers curled around the stem of hers. They drank ruby velvet.

“Get in,” she said. “You don’t need a suit.”

“Can’t. I’ve got a midnight appointment.”

“With whom?” She hadn’t meant to sound sharp, she was just surprised.

Max trailed a hand in the warm, bubbling water. It ran up her arm. “I’m working out in secret. Using the Caped Conjuror’s home setup while he’s dazzling the second-show set at the New Millennium. I can’t stay.”

“But—”

“But there’s no reason you can’t stay here and enjoy the spa. The door will lock automatically on your way out.”

“I didn’t come here just to enjoy the bubbles.”

“I know. And do you think I’ll enjoy several hours of working out twenty-five feet above a terrazzo floor on bungee cords?”

“Max! It sounds—”

“Dangerous? Yes, what I’m doing is dangerous, Temple.” His blue eyes looked opaque, black against the night’s own darkness.

“But spectacular.”

Max laughed. “If you mean I could make a spectacle of myself… . Comebacks are hell, Temple. You have to give up a lot, including your dignity. And a private life.” He bent down to kiss her. Her fingerprints made darker blots on his black sleeves.