Animalistic (Tiger in Her Bed)

Christ, even in this condition, she was beautiful.

She cleared her face with a yank and threw the fake beard and hat onto the carpet. Then she dabbed her eyes and blew her nose like a foghorn.

Still, Trent found her very cute.

The hotel guy returned with the water and excused himself.

Arielle drank from the water bottle and exhaled a deep breath. “I was trying to serve a summons to a man named Frank Darbo, but I couldn’t get past his bodyguard. My boss told me he was going to be at this party, but I’m just a paralegal; I wasn’t about to get invited. I saw the snow machines being wheeled into the hotel, so I assumed the party had some sort of Christmas theme. Of course, once I got inside and saw the devil waitresses, I realized I’d made a horrible mistake, but it was too late to do anything about it. Before I could find Darbo, his bodyguard recognized me, even in my disguise. I panicked and tried to find a corner to hide in but there wasn’t one, so I climbed in the fireplace and got stuck. And then you came.”

“You poor thing,” said Trent automatically. He stopped just short of hugging her.

She blinked back tears. “I must look pretty pathetic, huh?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

John held a hand out to Arielle, “Let me see the summons.”

She reached inside her Santa suit and pulled out a piece of paper.

John read it briefly. “I think I know that guy. Small, weasely-looking, a real scumbag. He was chatting with Severo when we came in.”

“Is his bodyguard still around? I need to get rid of this,” she asked.

“You shouldn’t go back into the party looking like… that. I have an idea, wait here.” John gave the paper back to Arielle and exited the room.

“What is your brother doing?” she asked Trent.

“Don’t worry; John has great people skills. Aren’t you hot in that getup?” Trent pointed to her Santa suit.

“I’m boiling in it.”

“Do you want to take it off?”

“I’m not wearing anything decent underneath. My stuff is at the office.”

“Shall I get you some clothes?”

Arielle looked at him suspiciously. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m a nice guy. I have a soft spot for people in need.”

“You saved me twice today. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“I can think of a way. Let me buy you a dinner.”

“Dinner?” Arielle eyed him doubtfully. “I shouldn’t… I mean… I can’t. I’m seeing somebody.”

So she wasn’t single, thought Trent in dismay. He didn’t smell the scent of a human male on her. Not recently. Not in a long time. Still, he didn’t want to give up. “It’s just dinner. Don’t tell me your boyfriend is the jealous type?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “He’s just… I don’t know. Maybe.”

The door opened and John entered with Frank Darbo, who was accompanied by three beautiful women, each in different, yet shockingly similar, little black dresses. They were laughing and chatting until Darbo realized what was going on. He recognized Arielle.

“Hey, you’re that broad from this afternoon,” he mumbled in a thick Brooklyn accent.

Trent went on alert mode. He snatched the paper from Arielle’s hand. “You’re Frank Darbo?”

Darbo glared at him. “And what is it to you?”