Mirror Image
Not bothering to conceal his annoyance, he barred her entrance by placing his forearm on the doorjamb. “See what?”
“You coming.”
“Cute.”
“Thanks,” she replied cheekily. Then her blue eyes darkened. “Who were you expecting?”
“None of your business. What are you doing so far away from home, little girl?”
The bell on the elevator down the hall chimed, and the room service waiter emerged, carrying a tray on his shoulder. He approached them on soundless footsteps. “Mr. Paschal?”
“Here.” When Eddy stepped aside to let him in, Fancy slipped inside, too. She went into the bathroom and locked the door. Eddy scrawled his signature on the bottom of the tab and showed the waiter to the door.
“Have a good night.”The youth gave him an elbow-in-the-ribs grin and a sly wink.
Eddy closed the door a little too suddenly and a little too loudly to be polite. “Fancy?” He rapped on the bathroom door.
“I’ll be out in a sec.”
He heard the commode flush. She opened the door while still tugging the tight, short skirt of her tube dress over her hips. The dress was made of stretchy, clingy stuff that conformed to her body like a second skin. It had a wide cuff across the top that could be worn off the shoulders. She was wearing it way off.
The dress was red. So was her lipstick, her high-heeled pumps, and the dozens of plastic bangle bracelets encircling her arms. With her mane of blond hair even more unruly than usual, she looked like a whore.
“What did you order? I’m starved.”
“You’re not invited.” Eddy intercepted her on her way toward the room service tray the waiter had left on the table near the easy chair. He gripped her upper arm. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, first I was peeing. Now I’m going to scope out what you’ve got to eat.”
His fingers pinched tighter and he strained her name through his teeth. “What are you doing in Houston?”
“It got boring at home,” she said, wresting her arm free, “with nobody but Mona and Mother around. Mother’s in a stupor half the time. The other half she’s crying over Daddy not loving her anymore. Frankly, I doubt he ever did. You know he thought she was knocked up with me when they got married.” She lifted the silver metal lid off one of the plates and picked up a cherry tomato—a garnish for his club sandwich.
“What’s… hmm, a chocolate sundae,” she cooed with pleasure as she investigated beneath another lid. “How do you eat like this late at night and keep your belly so nice and flat?”
Her practiced eyes moved down his smooth, muscled torso, seen through his unbuttoned shirt. Suggestively, Fancy licked her lips.
“Anyway, Mother believes Daddy has the hots for Aunt Carole, which I think is downright scandalous, don’t you?” She shivered—not from repugnance, but with delight. “It’s so, so Old Testament for a man to covet his brother’s wife.”
“The sin of the week, by Fancy Rutledge.”
She giggled. “Mother’s positively morose and Mona looks at me with the same regard she would have for a cockroach in her sugar canister. Grandma, Grandpa, and the little spook were due back, which would only make things worse, so I decided to split and come here, where all the action is.”
Wryly, he said, “As you can see, there’s not much going on tonight.”
Undaunted, she curled up in the easy chair he’d been occupying and popped the tomato into her mouth. It was the same vibrant color as her lips. Her teeth sank into it. The juice squirted inside her mouth.
“The truth of the matter is, Eddy darlin’, I ran out of cash. The automatic teller said it couldn’t give me any money ’cause my account’s overdrawn. So,” she said, raising her arms over her head and stretching languorously, “I came to my best friend for a little loan.”
“How little?”
“A hundred bucks?”
“I’ll give you twenty just to get rid of you.” He withdrew a bill from his pants pocket and tossed it into her lap.
“Twenty!”
“That’ll buy you enough gas to get home.”