A Vampire's Promise (21 page)

Read A Vampire's Promise Online

Authors: Carla Susan Smith

BOOK: A Vampire's Promise
4.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
CHAPTER 25

I
t was two weeks before Christmas, a Friday, and the last day off I was going to be able to get from the bookstore until after the holidays. Laycee and I were in the bigger of the two malls Greenley Heights boasted, and I was helping her choose a suitable Christmas gift for Jake. It was also an opportunity to surreptitiously look for something for Gabriel.

Buying him a gift was daunting. The last man I'd gone Christmas shopping for was my dad, and he would have been happy with a gift certificate to Pro Bass Outfitters. Actually, he would have preferred that because he could have bought something for himself that he really wanted. Sometimes I wonder just how many useless gifts he held on to because he didn't want to hurt my feelings by exchanging them.

But Gabriel was definitely not a Pro Bass type of guy.

I toyed with the idea of getting him a shirt in something other than the basic black he always wore. Not that he didn't always look fabulous, but I wanted to indulge myself and see if he looked just as gorgeous in, say, cerulean or crimson or caramel. Or hot pink, the new power color. Checking the inside label one night while he was taking a shower, I'd found out his shirts came from somewhere called Turnbull and Asser. I'd never heard of the company and had to look it up online. I was dismayed to discover Gabriel had his shirts made for him in London, England. Getting a Van Heusen from JC Penney wasn't going to cut it.

I thought about cologne, but he didn't use it. The amazing way he smelled was natural. He had pretty much every CD I'd ever mentioned, and judging from what he had brought to the house for us to watch, his movie collection was just as extensive. That left books, but giving him a book as a gift struck me as being somewhat impersonal and not very imaginative, considering where I worked. My choices were diminishing minute by frustrating minute.

Laycee's idea of a gift for Jake consisted of buying lingerie to wear for him. She knew exactly what her man wanted Santa to bring this year, and I dutifully gave her my honest opinion as to what was tastefully erotic and what was downright trashy. Naturally, trashy won hands down every time. I considered stealing her idea, but that would require some sort of explanation on my part, because she would never believe I was buying lingerie for the hope chest I didn't have or “just in case.”

I could have easily used the shopping moment to tell her that Gabriel and I were an item, but I didn't. I rationalized my silence by telling myself that when I could fill in at least half of the Alaskan wasteland, I would be in a better position to know exactly what I could and couldn't tell her. Because she was going to have questions—was she ever!—and no matter how noble my intentions, if Laycee sensed I was holding back info, she would ask Jake to do a background check. And I definitely didn't want her finding out things that would be better coming from me.

We left Victoria's Secret (I bought an overpriced lip gloss) and headed for the toy store. As I watched her peruse Jake's kids' wish lists, I realized toy shopping at Christmas was not for the faint of heart. It was an undertaking you carried out because of necessity or love. Both applied to Laycee; neither applied to me. I bailed, but promised a Starbucks stop before heading home. She began to fuss—until I mentioned that I needed to check on her Christmas gift. It was amazing how quickly she did an about-face, wearing an expression that was only mildly avaricious, as she left me.

For Laycee's Christmas gift I had chosen a double-link bracelet along with a letter L charm. It was a good choice because it would mean Christmas and birthdays were covered for at least the next decade. I would just have to make certain I coordinated my choices with Jake. Waiting in the jewelry store for my purchase to be gift-wrapped, I perused the men's section.

The only jewelry I had ever seen Gabriel wear was a watch. I thought I had a gift option when he told me he didn't always wear a Rolex. But it turned out that was his everyday watch. For special occasions, he wore a Patek Philippe. It took me a couple of tries on the Internet to find this one, but that's because I didn't know what kind of a word “Patek” was or how to spell it. I don't know why I bothered.

I looked over the display cases, not really expecting to find anything, when I saw exactly what I wanted. It was a ring. A circle of polished mahogany sandwiched between two matching bands of roped platinum. Discreet and unassuming, it was perfect for Gabriel. I asked the salesgirl for a closer look, and she got it out of the case for me. It slipped over my thumb with plenty of room to spare, so I figured it should fit at least one of Gabriel's fingers. It was expensive but what the heck—it was Christmas! If I didn't use my credit card every now and then, the damn thing would be canceled. I was very pleased with myself as I headed for Starbucks.

I had just found a vacant table when Laycee arrived, and from the frazzled look on her face, the toy shopping experience had not gone so well. She made an uncomplimentary comment about idiot parents and bratty offspring as she sat down.

“Jake is definitely coming with me next time!” she declared grumpily.

I smiled indulgently and pushed one of the foamy coffees across the table to her. She took a sip, wiped the froth from the tip of her nose, and gave me a piercing stare.

“What are you looking so pleased about?” she asked.

I felt my grin getting wider as I shook my head. “I've never seen you so happy,” I told her. “I think being with Jake is very good for you.”

She smiled, melting like a marshmallow in hot chocolate at the mention of his name. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“And I think he's really going to enjoy that little black and red number you got for him.”

“He'd better,” she giggled, her face lighting up. “Considering how much it cost, and the fact that I only expect to have it on for thirty seconds, tops.”

“Why is it,” I pondered, “the skimpier the fabric, the higher the price tag?”

She shook her head, her ponytail swinging. “You got me there, Ro.”

We sipped our coffees and indulged in a favorite pastime, people watching. We agreed that in general there were a lot more Scrooges out and about than Tiny Tims.

I was in the middle of an observation about a fortysomething woman dressed like a seventeen-year-old—“Mutton dressed as lamb,” Laycee informed me—when her attention was grabbed by something behind me.

“There's a blonde heading your way,” she said in a low voice, her eyes impossibly wide.

I felt my stomach lurch and hoped it wasn't Gabriel. Not that I wouldn't be thrilled to see him, but I wasn't prepared for him and Laycee to be in the same hemisphere, let alone the same coffee shop.

“Another admirer?” I said, attempting to play it off.

I could see she didn't remember what I was talking about, and then her carefully penciled eyebrows pulled together as the memory came back. She shook her head.

“Nuh-uh, this is a woman,” she murmured, “and she's headed right for you.”

Relieved, but also puzzled, I turned my head and saw Anasztaizia making her way toward us. Looking as beautiful as ever, she paid no attention to the heads she was turning. I was certain she took away the breath of every man in the place, even wearing jeans and a turtleneck.

“Rowan, dahlink!” She held out her arms as she approached, leaving me no alternative but to get to my feet for a hug. “I thought that was you!”

She kissed me on both cheeks, and I returned the compliment, asking her to join us. It would have been very rude not to, and I wouldn't have hurt her feelings for anything. The guy at the next table looked like he'd just won the lottery when Anasztaizia asked if she might use the empty chair.

“Anasztaizia, please let me introduce you to my friend, Laycee,” I said once she was settled and we were both sitting down.

Laycee looked a little doubtful, as if she thought the beautiful Magyar was going to kiss her as well, but Anasztaizia held out her hand instead. Obviously you had to work your way up to get a peck on the cheek.

“How are you and what are you doing here?” I asked.

“Checking out the competition.” Lifting her cardboard cup, she laughed. It sounded like the chime of tiny bells.

Laycee looked nonplussed.

“Anasztaizia's family owns a restaurant, and they make the best coffee I've ever tasted,” I explained.

“Is that so?”

I wasn't fooled by Laycee's sweet smile. It told me I was in trouble and so going to get it on the ride home.

“You are too kind to say so.” Anasztaizia put her hand on my arm. “So, are you Christmas shopping for Gabriel?”

Laycee's eyes snapped from the Hungarian to me, drilling me right in the middle of my forehead. I thought for a minute she was going to go all
Exorcist
and fully expected her head to begin swiveling around. But I'll give her credit; except for a slight twitch as the muscle in her jaw clicked into hyper-drive, she gave no outward appearance that anything was amiss.

Denial was pointless, and besides, I had the sudden inspiration that Anasztaizia's opinion was definitely worth having. Guiltily I retrieved the small plastic bag from my purse and pulled out the black ring box, passing it across to Anasztaizia at the same moment Laycee was overcome by a coughing fit. We both looked across the table in alarm, but Laycee gamely waved her hand, indicating she was okay. I reached around and patted her on the back.

“Oh, Rowan, dahlink,” Anasztaizia cooed, sounding very Zsa Zsa Gabor. “It's beautiful, and I'm sure Gabriel will love it, but then he would love anything you gave him, no?”

“May I?” Laycee asked.

Her eyes were still a little watery, but the bright spots of color on her cheeks were quickly fading. She took the small box from Anasztaizia's outstretched hand, and admired the ring before closing the lid and returning it to me.

“Rowan, I must go,” Anasztaizia said, getting to her feet, “but I am so happy to run into you like this. If you have no plans, you must come to dinner on Christmas Eve. We are having traditional Hungarian celebration, and I would love for you and Gabriel to share it with us.”

She didn't seem to expect an answer right then, which was a good thing because I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. “Thank you, I'll make sure to tell him.”

We hugged, kissed each other on the cheek, and said our good-byes. I watched as the lovely Magyar weaved her way effortlessly through the throng of holiday shoppers.

“So—” Laycee put her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand as her mouth formed a wicked line. “As much as I'm dying to know all about that,
dahlink
,” she pointed a finger after Anasztaizia, “I really want to know just how long you've been back with Eye Candy, and why am I only just hearing about it now?”

In a way, I had some idea of what she had gone through keeping her relationship with Jake a secret, and it felt like a weight had been lifted now that I was going to be able to tell her. Although I must confess I kind of fudged things.

For a start, I made it sound as if Gabriel and I had seen each other only a couple of times, and Anasztaizia's enthusiasm was because she had known Gabriel a lot longer than I had. I told Laycee that he had sought me out, which was true. I told her he was filled with remorse for how he had left me before, which was also true. I told her we were seeing each other on my terms only, which was a complete fabrication.

My reason for keeping the relationship a secret was because I didn't want her to worry needlessly that I might get hurt again, which was kinda sorta true. And besides, I added, I wasn't even certain whatever this was between us had much of a future. People have been struck by lightning for lesser lies.

“I'm just taking it one day at a time,” I said glibly.

“Uh-huh. Well, One Day is getting a very nice Christmas gift, and it is a very classy ring, by the way,” she added generously.

I sighed gratefully when she stood up, thinking how well she'd taken the news.

“Oh, don't think I'm done with you,” Laycee said, bending to retrieve her shopping bags from under the table. “I just want to savor all the juicy bits without the benefit of eavesdroppers!”

 

It was a long ride back home, and as I suspected, Laycee went all poison ivy on me. I don't know whether it was dumb luck or intuitiveness on her part, but she didn't ask me any questions about Gabriel's occupation. Telling her I suspected my boyfriend was involved with something like the Russian mob wouldn't have scored either of us any brownie points. Laycee had been involved in my life long enough to know when I was holding something back. But she was also smart enough to know when to push and when not to. Sensing there were areas that were off limits for the time being, she kept her own counsel, and I loved her even more for that.

“So, just how gorgeous is he naked?” she asked, making the turn onto the county road that would take us home. “And if you tell me you don't know, I swear to God I'm gonna pull over, drag your sorry ass out of the car, and find a stick to beat you with!”

I stared at her, blushing furiously, and got the most awful case of the stammers.

“Wow!” Laycee exclaimed, taking her eyes off the road long enough to witness my discomposure. “He looks that good? I knew it! And the sex is pretty spectacular too, right?”

I did a brief imitation of a guppy out of water, and then nodded and grinned. I don't think I ever actually told Laycee that I was still a virgin at twenty-five. I suppose she assumed that over the years at least one of the guys who'd tried to get in my pants had been successful. Reaching for my hand, she squeezed my fingers.

“I'm not going to pretend my feelings aren't hurt because you didn't tell me about this, and I won't say I understand all your reasons, but I am pleased that you have someone in your life who makes you happy.” Her fingers tightened around mine again. “He does make you happy, doesn't he?”

Other books

Venice Nights by Ava Claire
Deeply Devoted by Maggie Brendan
Stolen Lives by Jassy Mackenzie
West (A Roam Series Novella) by Stedronsky, Kimberly
Aria in Ice by Flo Fitzpatrick
To Lose a Battle by Alistair Horne
Demanding the Impossible by Slavoj Zizek