Bridal Jitters (2 page)

There was a relaxed air about him. The graceful languor of a natural-born predator at ease between kills emanated from him in psychic waves. Virginia could feel the disturbing energy all the way across the room. No one else seemed to be particularly aware of that aura—both dangerous and deeply sensual—that enveloped him, but it stirred all the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck.

Another twinge of panic zapped through her, unsettling both her physical and paranormal senses. The combined assault on her awareness made her shiver. The anxiety attacks were getting worse, she thought. Every time she contemplated marriage to Sam, she felt the small, high-rez shocks of trepidation.

What had she done?

She had agreed to marry Sam Gage; that was what she had done. Granted, it was only a two-year marriage-of-convenience. Nevertheless, she was going to be legally tied to him for two full years.

What had she done?

She forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths. When that did not block the tide of uneasiness that was doing such strange things to her insides, she tried another sip of the wine punch.

Just a marriage-of-convenience. They were common enough. It would end in two years unless she and Sam elected to renew it for another two-year period. There would be no
reason to do that, she assured herself; no excuse to convert the MC into a more formal and far more binding covenant marriage.

Adeline was right; she had to project a little more good-natured enthusiasm here, Virginia told herself. She had agreed to the MC, after all. It was a terrific business move. And she certainly could not blame her friends for throwing a party. They meant well. And she was genuinely fond of most of them.

She was surrounded with a representative sprinkling of the professional and not-so-professional types involved in the many legitimate and not-so-legitimate businesses that had grown up around the excavation of the Dead City of Old Cadence. There were a number of academics from the university who were in the process of building distinguished careers studying the alien ruins. There were also several contract and freelance para-archaeologists, such as herself, and a few of Sam’s ghost-hunter buddies who provided security to the excavation teams. In addition, there was a colorful assortment of gallery owners, hustlers, and ruin rats who worked the fringes of the trade in alien artifacts.

It was a mixed lot, to say the least, but they were all bound by their mutual interest in making their livings from the exploration and excavation of the ruins left by the long-vanished Harmonics.

It should have been a cheerful occasion, but she could feel the panic nibbling at her stomach.

“Sorry, Adeline. I guess I’m not in a party mood tonight.”

“Fake it,” Adeline said with a stern look.

Virginia gave her a reluctant smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s better.” Adeline searched her face more closely. “What’s the matter? I thought you were excited about this arrangement. Why the cold feet?”

“I’m not getting cold feet.”

“Yes, you are. This is your old pal, Adeline, remember? I
know you better than anyone else. You’ve been getting increasingly short-tempered and high-strung for the past two weeks.”

Virginia glared at her and picked up the punch ladle. “I’ve been a little busy lately, okay? I just finished the Henderson job yesterday, and Sam and I signed our first joint client this morning. We start work on the project tomorrow. On top of everything else, my family is hassling me about this MC, even though I’ve explained a hundred times that it’s just a business deal.”

“Your family is still convinced that Sam is just taking advantage of you?”

“That’s their official position.” Virginia ladled more punch into her cup. “But the truth is, they want me to settle down in a covenant marriage with Duncan.”

Adeline shrugged. “Can’t blame them. Duncan is a great catch. Good family, good connections. Nice guy.”

“Duncan and I are friends, but it will never amount to more than that.” Virginia dropped the ladle back into the bowl and took a hefty swallow of the punch. “Duncan and I both know it, even if our families don’t.”

“You mean you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Adeline raised her brows. “So, instead of a nice, safe marriage to good ol’ Duncan, you’re going to take a flyer on a two-year MC with a man you hardly know and who is a ghost-hunter to boot. Gee, can’t imagine why the family is upset about that decision. Nope. Can’t think of a single reason why your relatives would have a problem with your plans.”

Virginia gave her a speaking glance. “It’s business.”

Adeline assumed an infuriating all-knowing expression. “Know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you’ve got a radical case of nerves. Bridal jitters, as my aunt Sally would say.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I be nervous?”

“Excellent question.”

“This is just a business deal.” Virginia suspected that she was beginning to sound desperate. She tried to temper her tone. She wanted to sound calm and cool. As calm and cool as Sam had sounded when he had presented her with the proposition three weeks ago.

“This section of the Old Quarter is slated for gentrification within the next couple of years,” he had explained. “Investors and developers are already starting to nose around. This house is going to be worth a fortune soon. But in the meantime, I’ve got to find a way to hang on to it.”

She gazed at her new landlord in genuine alarm. She had rented her office and her upstairs apartment from him less than two months ago. She had found the old house at the end of a long, fruitless day spent tracking down the addresses of virtually every affordable rental in the Old Quarter of Cadence City. It had not been an advertised rental, but she had decided to make inquiries after noting the small sign on the door, which read Dead City Security, Sam Gage, Prop.

Her intent had been to ask the unknown Mr. Gage, who was clearly a small businessperson like herself, if he was aware of any suitable space in the neighborhood. The choicest rentals, she had learned, were frequently obtained by word of mouth rather than through the want ads.

Her initial impression of Sam Gage, the owner and sole employee of Dead City Security, was that he was not what one expected in a ghost-hunter who had set up shop as a security consultant. She had found him in his office, ankles propped on his desk, deep into the current issue of the
Journal of Para-Archaeology.
Heavy reading for a ghost-hunter, she thought. Most of the ones she knew preferred
Sex-Starved Psychic Playmates
and
Naked Amazon Maidens of the Alien Catacombs.

Before the end of the conversation, Gage had offered her
an office on the first floor and an apartment on the second. She had fallen in love with both spaces the moment she had seen them. She was beginning to think that she had fallen in love with her new landlord at approximately the same time, but that was another issue altogether, one she did not want to confront.

“Hang on to it?” she repeated warily. “Is there a problem?”

“Just the usual. Taxes, upkeep, repairs.” He spread the fingers of his amber-ringed hand in a gesture that encompassed all the trials and tribulations of home ownership. “This house was built right after the Era of Discord. That makes it over a hundred and fifty years old. It was built to last, so it’s sound, but it needs a lot of work.”

“I see.” She looked around at the elegant molding, gleaming wooden floors, and uniquely framed windows.

The place was perfect for her one-person consulting business. The location, only two short blocks from the great, green quartz wall that surrounded the Dead City, was ideal. Her work required frequent trips both above ground and deep into the catacombs of the ancient alien ruins. From here, she could walk to her job site, which meant she would not have the expense of a car.

She cleared her throat uneasily. “Are you thinking of raising the rent already? Because, if so, I’d like to remind you that I do have a one-year lease.”

He braced his hands on the top of her desk and leaned slightly forward. His amber-colored eyes were steady and intent. “No, I’m not going to raise your rent. I’ve got a proposition for you. If things work out the way I think they will, we’ll both make a killing.”

His idea had been a straightforward business arrangement. A marriage-of-convenience and a merger of her consulting business with his Dead City Security. He’d painted a dazzling picture. Operating as a single entity, Gage & Burch Consulting,
they would double their resources overnight. Together, they would be able to compete for larger, more lucrative clients. The increased revenue would go into maintenance. The MC would ensure that they paid lower taxes. When the house was sold to developers in two years, they would share equally in the profits. A win-win situation.

All she had to do was find a way to be as cold-blooded about the arrangement as Sam. Unfortunately, the closer they drew to the date of the wedding, the less certain she was that such a thing was possible.

“I told you,” Virginia said to Adeline. “Sam wants to hang on to this house until some developer is willing to pay big bucks for it. He offered to cut me in on the profits. It’s a terrific business opportunity for me.” Who was she trying to convince? she wondered.

Adeline reached for a piece of neon-orange candy. “Maybe the fact that it’s just a business deal is part of the problem. Maybe that’s not what you want.”

No, Virginia thought. It most definitely was not what she wanted. Late this afternoon, after a long walk and a cup of coffee in the lonely little park at the end of the street, she had finally forced herself to face that fact. She was in love with Sam, but all he wanted from her was her signature on a contract. Marriage, especially a marriage-of-convenience, would be hell. The frustration factor alone would probably drive her to the nearest para-psych ward within a month. She was almost sure now that she could not go through with the arrangement.

But she had not yet figured out how to tell Sam.

She had planned to get things out in the open tonight. Then she had opened the door of the office and walked straight into the engagement party.

She could hardly bring up the subject now in the midst of a party. She would wait until morning. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell him that she was having second thoughts.

She felt a guilty sense of relief at having made the decision to put off the inevitable for another few hours.

•   •   •

She was getting cold feet. He could feel the chill clear across the room. Every time he caught her eye, she averted her gaze or started up an earnest conversation with whoever happened to be standing nearby.

The last of the guests finally departed shortly after midnight. Sam closed the door behind the laggard and turned to see Virginia sinking down into the chair behind her desk. His bride-to-be looked both relieved and exhausted. She also looked cross. But then, lately she frequently looked tense and irritable. Bridal jitters. The odd thing was that the more anxious she got, the calmer and more certain he became.

She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “Thought they’d never go.”

“They meant well,” he said.

“I know.” She rested her head against the back of her chair. “But they don’t understand.”

“Sure they do. We’re getting married. People like to celebrate marriages. Even MCs.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Because there is a streak of the romantic buried somewhere inside most people,” he explained patiently. “Deep down, everyone hopes that marriages-of-convenience will morph into the real thing.”

“That’s a highly unrealistic expectation. Statistically speaking, most MCs end on the first or second renewal date unless someone makes a mistake and gets pregnant.” She paused meaningfully. “And there is absolutely no excuse for that kind of mistake.”

“Right. No excuse.”

Few mistakes of that sort were made because the First Generation colonists who had settled Harmony had crafted very strict legislation covering marriage and family. The more liberal
social policies of Earth had been abandoned when the energy Curtain that had served as a gate between worlds had unexpectedly closed, stranding the settlers. The founders, desperate to provide a social structure that would ensure the survival of the colony, had opted for stern laws. But in their wisdom, the First Generation planners had also understood that harsh rules that did not take human weaknesses into account would ultimately fail. Failure of the social structure of the tiny band of desperate settlers would mean catastrophe.

In an effort to deal with basic human foibles, the founders had provided the socially and legally sanctioned marriages-of-convenience to cover many of the traditional and less-than-romantic reasons that drove people into wedlock: family pressure, business, or simple passion. Couples who elected to have children were expected to file for the more formal covenant marriage.

The muted warble and twang of a high-rez rock guitar sounded from the street. Sam crossed the office to the window, made a space between the blinds, and studied the night-shrouded sidewalk.

The Old Quarter teemed with revelers tonight. The heavy river fog that had cloaked Cadence nightly for the past several days had deterred no one. People dressed as witches, goblins, and ghosts—the fairy-tale sort, not the very real remnants of dangerous alien energy known as
unstable dissonance energy manifestations
—drifted in and out of the mists. Orange lights came and went eerily in the shadows. As Sam watched, a grinning jack-o’-lantern appeared out of the gloom. Someone shrieked in pretended fright. Raucous laughter echoed in the night.

This was Halloween eve, and the noise level was already high. Tomorrow night, Halloween night, would be bedlam. Half of Cadence would flock to the Old Quarter to party. There was no place in town quite as atmospheric at Halloween as
the seedy districts adjacent to the ancient walls of the Dead City.

In this part of town, ambient psi energy leaked continuously through tiny, often invisible cracks in the emerald-colored stones. It seeped up from the endless miles of green quartz tunnels and corridors beneath the pavement. The little currents and eddies of energy were part of the lure of the Old Quarters of all the cities on Harmony that had been built near the sites of ancient ruins. Tourists and locals alike loved the creepy sensations, especially at this time of year.