Alligators in the Trees (37 page)

Priscilla scrambled to keep pace with Tobias as he wove through the long corridors of the Plaza Hotel. She had only been in this famed establishment one other time, and the memory of it made her cringe. She had unwisely gone along with Rochelle and Darlene, on another one of their lofty schemes to meet rich men.

They had chosen The Oak Bar as the most conducive spot for bagging big game. Instead, they ended up having one of the most humiliating experiences of Priscilla’s life, which was saying something. Rochelle was so sure of her raw animal magnetism and womanly charms, she failed to realize that some of her male admirers had taken the lot of them for low-rent hookers. One word from the bartender and they were roughly escorted to the door and told never to show their faces around there again.

Priscilla threw paranoid glances toward the surveillance cameras and latched on to Tobias’s arm for protection, which Tobias embraced rather touchingly. He held open the door to the Oyster Bar, then led her to a table in a corner off to the side, completely out of view from the entrance.

“How’s this?” he asked, as he made himself comfortable. Priscilla sat back and tried to feel as relaxed as he looked. The waiter approached with menus and offered to take a drink order.

“We’ll take a look at your wine list,” Tobias told the waiter. “I’d say champagne is in order, wouldn’t you?”

The suggestion took Priscilla by surprise. “Champagne?”

“Sure, why not? We’ve got a lot to celebrate.”

“We do?”

Tobias laughed at Priscilla’s bewilderment. “Yes, we do. We’re celebrating your first song set to music. And we’re celebrating the fact that you’re not leaving The Empire State, after all.”

“I’m not?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Miss Priscilla Vanderpool. You’re future’s here, not in Swampland Safari.” The waiter reappeared, giving time for Priscilla to take a deep breath unnoticed. “We’ll take a bottle of the ’85 Vueve Cliquot, La Grande Dame. And make sure you’ve got another one chilled. Should we get some oysters? Oh, you probably don’t eat oysters because they’re raw.”

“Only if I’m drunk,” Priscilla admitted sheepishly. Tobias laughed.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Why don’t you start us with a shrimp cocktail, the cracked crab and an order of steamed clams,” he said, looking at Priscilla for approval. She nodded almost imperceptibly, to which Tobias gave the waiter the go ahead.

“Ever been here before?” Tobias asked.

“Uh…no.”

“It’s really one of my favorite hideouts. You’d think a busy hotel like the Plaza would be one of the worst places to try to lay low, but I find the location of this bar to be just far enough off the beaten path, especially if you avoid the peak hours.”

Priscilla studied the barmen and the smattering of clientele. It was strange that she and Tobias had slipped out of the crazy midday rush and found this sanctuary smack in the middle of all the hubbub. It was like coming to rest in the eye of a storm.

The waiter startled her out of her reverie by plunking the wine bucket on the table. He dried the wet bottle with a napkin before presenting it to Tobias for approval. Tobias gave a quick glance at the label and nodded to the waiter. Priscilla watched as the he filled their glasses with expert precision, only halfway until the bubbles subsided, then topped them up.

“Champagne’s so fun, isn’t it? Salud!” Tobias said, raising his glass to Priscilla’s. She took a cautious sip, wriggling her nose at the unaccustomed effervescence.

“Not bad, huh?”

“It’s divine,” Priscilla admitted. It was not at all like the sweet and quaffable cheap, fizzy stuff she was accustomed to. Had she known what he was spending for this indulgent beverage, she would have choked on it.

Once the seafood assault began, it lasted an inordinate length of time. To Priscilla’s amazement, they did run out of champagne before the shellfish extravaganza was over, necessitating a second bottle to be opened. By that time, she was so satiated with food and wine, she could do little more than sit and grin and laugh at Tobias’s many witty observations.

He, too, was feeling the effects of good food, good wine and affable company, and these positive elements had put him in rare form. He was more naturally charming, simpatico and astute than he could remember being in years, and he reveled in feeling that way. Priscilla was under his spell without having noticed the transition.

But just because she had been relatively simple to win over didn’t mean she was an easy touch. It wouldn’t have been as much fun for him if she had been. But as hard-hearted as she might imagine herself, Tobias had an unfair advantage. After all, how many men had she encountered who could supply killer music for her lyrics?
She didn’t stand a chance,
Tobias reflected happily as he sipped his bubbly.

“Do you ever see someone and all the sudden a song just pops into your head?” Priscilla asked, her guard so relaxed she was willing to reveal things about herself she’d never shared with anyone before. She was usually as guarded with her personal life as he was with his.

Still, he weighed his strategy carefully before answering. He had her at her most vulnerable right then, and he’d either have to take advantage of the situation or invest considerable time in taking the slow approach to win her heart. He looked into her eyes, dancing with mirth and mischief, and the resolve came easily.

“I do, actually,” he said, smiling conspiratorially, thinking of the lyrics she had inspired him to write. “Who do you have in mind?” Priscilla sat back, casting her eyes at one of the waiters, a small, dark man of indeterminate nationality. A smile crept across her lips, her mind already assigning a fictional life to the unsuspecting man. One glance at Tobias told her he was similarly engaged. After a moment, his eyes lifted to hers.

“You first,” she said.

“No way—it’s your game. You first.”

“But I can’t sing. Especially not in front of you.”

Tobias scoffed reproachfully. “This isn’t
American Idol
. I’m not going to judge your vocal talent, or lack thereof.” Priscilla conceded reluctantly, then took a moment to focus herself. In a voice just above a whisper she began:

“Armindo sighs as he does his chores

Cleaning the counters, sweeping the floors

He thinks of the time before he left home

When he left his sweetheart and went on the roam

He remembers himself as a younger man

Graceful figure, golden tan

In his arms a dark haired girl

He swings her out and gives her a twirl

He was the dancing fool of Lisbon

A regular Fred Astaire

The heartthrob of every woman

A devil without a care

One day he’ll go home to find her

The girl with the long, dark hair

With fiery eyes and lips so sweet

Waiting to be swept off her feet

He was the dancing fool of Lisbon

A regular Fred Astaire

The heartthrob of every woman

A devil without a care.”

Priscilla giggled self-consciously and took a sip of champagne. Her eyes searched Tobias’s face for his reaction to her spontaneous rhyme, but it remained inscrutably blank. Just when she became convinced she’d made of a fool of herself, his expression softened.

“Did you really just make that up?” he asked, stunned by her effortless talent.

“It was silly,” she said.

“True, but it was totally fluid.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

Tobias studied her as he wracked his brain for lines equal to hers. He had been so smug in thinking he had mesmerized her with his music, yet he had forgotten what a natural gift she had. Sure, his songs had a certain gravity and style about them that put them in a class of their own, but then again, he usually had to wring those precious words from his soul one line at a time. To spout off a fully formed song from beginning to end without as much as batting an eye impressed him beyond words. He should have known better than to have taken her innocent challenge.

“Okay, your turn,” Priscilla said, relaxing against the banquette, relieved Tobias had not ridiculed her. The bar was now deserted except for them. Their waiter came to the table and topped up their glasses.

“You think he’s Portuguese?” he said, stalling. Priscilla shrugged noncommittally. “That’s interesting. All right, here goes.” Tobias took a swig of his champagne before beginning.

“A man of the world

A man with no country

A loner to some

A stranger to many

A face in the crowd

A friend to no one

A man without footsteps

A man with no name

A man with a mission

A man without shame

A man with a secret

A danger to all,”
Tobias finished softly. He ended with a cheesy drum finale, feeling more bashful than he had since grade school.

Priscilla applauded. “Very good. So,” she said, leaning closer, “you think the waiter’s a terrorist?” She sat back and regarded the man with mock scrutiny. “Think we should call the authorities?”

“You’re better at that than I am,” Tobias conceded glumly.

“No way. That was very inventive. Besides, you can sing. You’re amazing,” she said, her voice full of awe.

“Oh, please,” he said dismissively. “Yours was definitely much better.”

“That’s bull. You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“Don’t be so modest—it doesn’t suit you,” Tobias replied coldly.

“It’s different with you,” Priscilla insisted, stung by his tone. “You can supply a tune with your lyrics, and it fit the words perfectly. All you heard of my song were the plain, unadorned words. Of course yours was better,” she concluded, feeling suddenly out of sorts.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a competition,” Tobias said, leaning against the banquette, invading her space, making it difficult for her to sulk.

“I know. I guess it solidified what’s bothered me all these years. I’ve been given half a talent. It’s like a cruel joke. What good is
thousands
of lyrics with no music? All they’ve served to do is remind me of their uselessness,” she said contemptuously.

“All those words you’ve written have come from pure, honest feelings. You never wrote them to please anyone else or to prove anything. Your words have a wonderful quality that allows them to stand on their own. There are more really good lyrics in your collection than I’ve ever written—ten times more,” he said, earning a dubious scowl from Priscilla.

“It’s true. Hey, if I didn’t feel that way, would I have spent time putting them to music?” he asked. Priscilla found it hard to hold onto her disappointment.

“It’s so incredible you have that kind of talent. I can’t imagine what that must be like,” she said wistfully, taking another sip from her glass, her mind drifting off. Tobias watched her as his admiration grew.

“Don’t forget there have been plenty of famous lyricists who never wrote a single note of music,” he told her. “Songwriting is often a collaborative effort. You could be working right now as a lyric writer, and there’d be plenty of musicians who’d love to put your words to music. You’ve got a real marketable talent. You’ve just never had anyone to collaborate with, until now,” he said with a wink and a nudge, finally managing to get a smile out of her.

“I need to get up. I’m getting stiff,” he said, stretching. Priscilla reached for her bag and stood up on unsteady feet.

“Uh oh, I think I’m tipsy,” she said, wobbling. Tobias stood up and joined her. “And I definitely need to find the ladies’ room,” she whispered in his ear.

“Straight out, on your left,” he whispered back, guiding her down the hall. “I’ll meet you out here.”

She found him standing in front of the
chocolatier
, blissfully stuffing his mouth with chocolate confections.

“You’ve got to try this,” he said, holding one aloft, making her reach for it with her teeth. “Isn’t that sinful?”

Priscilla groaned. “Everything we’ve done today is sinful,” she said, wiping a crumb of chocolate from her lip. “Oh my God, what was that?”

“Dark chocolate truffle with a mocha center. Awesome, huh? That should put a little zoom back in your step,” he said, ushering her toward the main entrance. “What do you feel like doing now?” he asked once they were outside.

Priscilla made an unintelligible sound and wagged her head. “What’s there left to do? This has been the most extravagant day of my life,” she said, stopping to take in the sight of the hotel they’d just come out of. The look on her face was a blend of joy and astonishment.

The sight of her almost took Tobias’s breath away. “C’mon, let’s mosey down this a’way,” he drawled, affecting a bowlegged walk. Priscilla laughed and pretended not to know him as they merged into the flow of pedestrians. They had barely reached the sidewalk on Fifth Avenue when Tobias halted abruptly in front of Bergdorf-Goodman.

“Ever shop here?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s fun. Let’s check it out,” he said, holding the door open for her. For a good long moment, it looked like she was rooted to the sidewalk. “Come on, no one’s going to bite you,” he chided her, dragging her by the wrist.

What she saw inside dazzled her. It was more crowded with merchandise than she had expected, and it had a quite lively air, as shoppers of various descriptions examined this, fondled that. Tobias evidently knew his way around, so Priscilla stayed close on his heels, bumping into him as he stopped abruptly in ladies’ hats.

“Here, try this one on for size,” he said facetiously, holding up a hat that would have bowed the neck of a Vegas showgirl.

“Ah…I don’t think so,” Priscilla replied, deftly sidestepping his effort to place it on her head. “This is more like it,” she said, donning a black wide-brimmed hat. She checked its effect in the mirror and removed it immediately. Definitely not her. Tobias offered her another one, which she tried and dismissed.

“I guess I’m really not a hat person,” she said, placing the third candidate back on the rack.

“Me neither,” Tobias said.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Priscilla said, the remark directed to his ever-present baseball cap.

“Well, it’s not like I want to wear this,” he said defensively. Priscilla chuckled and fell in step beside him as they meandered toward the next department.

“Oh my God!” she cried, frantically looking back in the direction they’d come from.

“What is it?” Tobias asked. Priscilla darted off before he got the words out. She snatched her bag from the floor where she had left it. Relief made her weak in the knees.

“That was a close call,” she said, clutching her bag to her chest.

“Here, let me carry that for you,” he said, taking it from her. “Jesus, what do you have in here?” he asked, slinging the small pack over his shoulder.

“All my worldly possessions,” she replied, nervously eyeing her bag. Tobias looked at her like she had to be joking.

“Everything you own is in this one bag?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, including all my money,” she said. Tobias knew immediately what money she was referring to. He hitched the bag tighter to his shoulder. After a moment, he asked, “All your clothes are in here, too?” Priscilla laughed.

“Yeah, what’s left of them. I left a lot of stuff behind in the hotel I’ve been staying at the last few nights.”

“Why?”

“I was just sick of it all,” she said, her attention straying to a jewelry case they were passing. “I was actually on my way to buy a bunch of new stuff when I ran into you. Summery things I could wear in Florida.”

“Good thing I ran into you when I did,” Tobias commented dryly. Priscilla snorted at the implication. “Let’s go get you some new stuff now,” he suggested, leading her toward the escalator.

“I’m not going to buy anything here,” she said, alarmed by the thought of what that would set her back.