Strange Bedpersons Read online

  “I know. I made it.”

  “So I won’t be able to take care of a little problem I have,” Nick went on, smiling at her benevolently. “And I thought that since you did so well on the dress problem—”

  “I get the afternoon off,” Christine said.

  “Done.” Nick handed her a bag. “Replace these. Spare no expense. Then burn them.”

  Christine pulled a bleach-stained green sweatshirt out of the bag. “This is Tess’s?”

  “Yes. But not for long. Get rid of it.”

  “This is a mistake,” Christine said.

  Nick blinked. “You’re disagreeing with me? You have an opinion?” He looked interested. “Christine, this isn’t like you. Thank you for the input.” His eyes dropped back down to his desk as he opened a folder. “Now, butt out.”

  Christine dropped the bag on the desk with a plop, and Nick looked up, startled.

  “I like you,” Christine said with no expression whatsoever. “You’re a good employer. You’re simple, you’re efficient, you’re professional, and you’re easy to manage.”

  “Simple?” Nick said, offended. “Simple, how?”

  “Uncomplicated,” Christine said. “Because of this I’m giving you some good advice, although it’s my policy not to interfere in your personal life.”

  “Good policy,” Nick said, but Christine kept on talking as if he wasn’t there.

  “Do not interfere with this woman’s wardrobe,” she said. “Clothes are important to women. She will resent it.”

  “Not Tess,” Nick said. “Tess is incapable of carrying a grudge. Her attention span isn’t that long. And she doesn’t give a damn about her clothes. Replace the sweats and then burn them.” He shoved the bag back over to her and turned to the work on his desk.

  Christine picked up the bag. “This is a bad move.”

  “They’re just sweats.” Nick looked up again, annoyed, but she had already gone, doing her usual silent fade. “And get yourself some tap shoes while you’re out,” he called after her. “You’re really giving me the creeps lately.”

  “Nicholas?”

  Park’s father appeared in the doorway. Tall and distinguished, with a patrician nose and a full head of gray hair, Kent Patterson looked like the perfect lawyer: wise, benevolent and just.

  It was unfortunate that in reality he was a mindless, society-obsessed twit, but Nick had learned to deal with it.

  “Kent!” Nick came around the desk to shake his hand. “I didn’t think I’d see you until lunch, sir.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel that, son,” Kent said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Norbert Welch called me. Wants to talk contracts. Speaks highly of you. Good job there, Nicholas.”

  Nick felt his knees grow weak. “We got the account?”

  “Not yet,” Kent said. “But I’ll be clinching that at lunch. Leave it to me.”

  Nick felt his knees come back. If Kent was in charge, they’d never see the account again. “Maybe I should join you, sir.”

  “Nonsense,” Kent said. “You leave this in the hands of the master.”

  Well, I’m trying to, Nick thought. But you won’t let me.

  “You’re free for dinner tomorrow, aren’t you?” Kent asked.

  “Of course,” Nick said automatically.

  “Well, that’s good, because Melisande and I want to meet your fiancée.”

  “My what?” Nick said, appalled.

  “Norbert told me all about her.” Kent feigned a punch at Nick’s shoulder. “You old dog. Kept her under wraps, haven’t you?”

  “Well, actually, sir—”

  “Tomorrow at The Levee. Eightish. Just Melisande and I and Park and whoever he’s dating at the moment—” Kent rolled his eyes derisively. “—and you and your... Bess, is it?”

  “Tess,” Nick said hollowly. “Me and my Tess. You bet.”

  WHILE NICK WAS DEALING with Park’s father, Tess was dealing with her landlord.

  “If there’s anything you want, you just holler from now on,” Ray Briggs told her. He stood on the front steps of the apartment building, his hands clasped behind his back over his ample rump as he swayed back and forth in his eagerness to please. His bald head gleamed through the six strands of hair he’d combed over it, and his normally mean little eyes had widened to the size of dimes in his efforts to look open and aboveboard.

  It was so out of character for him that Tess was almost speechless.

  “Well, actually I’m moving out, Ray,” Tess said finally. “My furniture—”

  “You give me the address. I’ll have it all delivered,” Ray said. “No problem.”

  “You’re kidding. Well, all right. Now, about the locks—”

  “First class all the way.” Ray gestured to the door. “Here in front, on all the apartments, back door, too, just like the doctor ordered.” Then he laughed asthmatically. “Or the lawyer, I guess, huh? Come on, check ‘em out.”

  “Lawyer?” Tess said, but she already knew what had happened. She followed Ray through the building, checking to make sure that he really had replaced the locks, listening to grateful thanks from the tenants who assumed her protest had made them safe. When they were finally back at the front door again, she gave Nick’s address to Ray and then went down the steps to catch the next bus.

  “Tess?” Ray called anxiously.

  She turned back. “Yes?”

  “You be sure to tell Mr. Jamieson now.”

  Tess closed her eyes. “Count on it.”

  NICK CAME IN THE DOOR a little after six, stripping off his tie. “We’re going out,” he told Tess as he headed for the stairs. “Get your black dress.”

  “Hey,” Tess said. “Wait a minute.”

  “Oh, right.” Nick turned back, grabbed her and kissed her, swiftly at first and then lingeringly. “I’m still getting the hang of this roommate thing.” He laughed in her ear as he held her close. “From now on, I swear I’ll say, ‘Hi, honey, I’m home.’”

  “Good,” Tess said, wrapping her arms around him more tightly. “This isn’t actually what I meant, but I like it, so let’s keep it.” She kissed his ear. “I think that makes my line, ‘How was your day, dear?’”

  “Annoying as hell,” Nick said, letting go of her and turning back to the stairs. “And we’ve got drinks at seven and a dinner date at—”

  Tess grabbed his arm. “Not so fast, buddy.” She pulled him over to the couch, pushed him down and then curled up beside him. “I talked to my landlord today,” she began, absentmindedly rubbing her hand along his neck, just for the pleasure of touching him.

  “God, that feels good,” Nick said. He let his head drop forward. “Don’t stop.”

  Tess began to knead her fingers into his neck muscles as she went on. “All the apartments have new locks. The tenants are very happy. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “Mmm.” Nick let his shoulder slide down the back of the couch as she rubbed. “Do that harder.”

  Tess rolled to her knees so she could reach him as he slumped away from her. “So you called my landlord and threatened him with something ugly and legal, didn’t you, Batman? Had to be a hero.”

  “Are you mad about that?” Nick mumbled. “Not that I care. Keep rubbing.”

  “No, I’m not mad. How was racquetball yesterday with Nordstrom?”

  Nick’s face was practically in a pillow by now. “Nordhausen. It was awful. Why?”

  “You got Gina that job.”

  “Look, Tess—” Nick began, trying to sit up.

  Tess pushed him back down. “You’re my hero, you know that?”

  “I am? Good. Keep rubbing.”

  “And that’s why I’m going to put on black crepe and act like a Stepford wife for you and your career tonight.” Tess gave his neck one final rub and slapped him on the back. Then she stood up and headed for the stairs. “Who are we impressing tonight?”

  “Drinks with Park and his date, dinner with Alan and Tricia Sigler,” Nick said