| Subject: À la Vie! - Chapter 28 |
Author:
Diane
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Date Posted: Sunday, October 31, 09:48:51pm
In reply to:
Diane
's message, "À la Vie!" on Tuesday, October 19, 01:16:54am
Roberta Wirth liked holidays. Holidays meant lots of filled rooms, and lots of filled rooms meant lots of tips. It wasn’t big money, but it certainly helped out. Of course, she had to work harder, but Roberta had never been afraid of hard work. She had been bussing tables from the time she was fourteen, then waitressing even after she got pregnant with Nikita at the age of seventeen. It’s not like Nik’s father had stuck around to help with the bills. Well, to be completely honest, he could have been one of two boys she went to the drive-in with. At least, those were the two that were blond. Roberta had tended bar, dealt blackjack, and even took a stint in a factory just to put food on the table and to keep Nikita in school. No, work wasn’t the enemy.
Simone was.
Simone looked far too happy last night when she came in to the motel to get her monthly check. She was up to something. Another get-rich-quick scheme. Roberta prayed that it didn’t have anything to do with Nikita. Not that she was worried about her, but she didn’t want her free-ride to come to an end.
* * *
Nikita awoke with a smile on her face, and she knew immediately why. Through her bedroom door, on the other side of the bathroom, was Michael Samuelle. Her best friend, her confidant, her mentor, and the world’s best kisser. Not that Nikita had anyone to compare him to, but she knew she was right. She stretched languidly, loving today already. Even the sudden chirping of her cell phone couldn’t ruin her mood. She slipped out of bed and ran down the steps to the living room.
“Hullo?”
A pause, then “May I speak to Michael, please?”
Nikita answered, “He’s sleeping.” A little thrill went through her when she said that. Okay, Nik, get a grip. “May I take a message?”
“Tell him I’ll meet him at Volare’s at noon. We, ah, have a lunch date.”
A knot formed in Nikita’s stomach. “And your name is--?”
“Simone. He’s expecting my call.”
“I’ll certainly give him the message,” Nikita said brightly, wishing she could sink through the carpet as she snapped the cell phone shut.
Michael was meeting another woman for lunch. How could she have been so stupid. All that talk about “completing” each other and loving her. Of course he loved her. Just like a brother loved a sister. She remembered how abruptly he had ended their kissing “lesson.” Obviously, he didn’t feel comfortable kissing his “sister.” She had been so intent on her wants and needs that she hadn’t even considered how Michael might have felt. Well. Now she knew.
The object of her musings took that moment to emerge from his bedroom, freshly showered and dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing yesterday, pressed last night by Nikita. He couldn’t find any mousse among Nikita’s hair products, so his hair lay damply in riotous chestnut curls, framing his handsome face.
“Hi,” he said softly, noting that Nikita was still dressed in his T-shirt.
“Oh. Hullo,” she returned nonchalantly.
Michael instantly went on the alert. He had not become the successful businessman he was without honing his skills at reading people. Nikita was upset. Brittle.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” came the flippant reply.
“Nikita. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh, yeah. Speaking of talking, you had a phone call earlier. I’m supposed to remind you about your lunch date.” Her smile was forced. She seemed almost apologetic.
Michael was confused. Today was a holiday. Most of the restaurants were closed. Bauer would never have scheduled a lunch meeting on July the 4th in San Francisco. “Who called?”
“Simone,” Nikita managed to spit out.
Understanding dawned on Michael’s face. Nikita was jealous. What lousy timing. He couldn’t tell her about Simone and the scam she was trying to run. Not yet. “Did she say where and when?” he asked in his most business-like voice.
“Volare’s. Noon.”
Michael fiddled with his PDA, then picked up his briefcase and pretended to look through it. “I must have left her file back at the hotel. I can pick it up when I have my luggage sent over.” He snapped the briefcase shut and fixed an amiable smile on his face. “So, what’s on your agenda for today?”
“Dunno,” she said, wheels turning. Simone was a client. Or at least Michael acted like she was. He wouldn’t lie to her, would he? She had to test him. “Probably hang out with Carla at her place until dinner time, then spend a quiet evening at home. I’m not real big on fireworks.”
“Sounds nice,” Michael agreed. “But let me cook tonight.”
“Okay,” Nikita agreed, “but it will have to be fish.”
“Ah. Zee Frenzh can work meericles weeth feesh,” he said with an impossibly thick French accent.
Nikita laughed in spite of herself. “See you tonight,” she waved as he picked up his jacket and prepared to leave. Michael figured that a good-bye kiss was probably out of the question, so he blew a kiss and bowed deeply at the waist before closing the door. Nikita giggled.
She then grew sober again. She hoped she knew what she was doing. She picked up the phone to call Carla.
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