Tell Me What Is Priceless (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

“Damn you, Nan. I don’t want to reevaluate my life. You have no idea how much it hurt to listen to you and Nicky making love last night. I don’t want the complications of a relationship, yet, I am tired of dreaming. I guess if I don’t like reality, then I had better do something to fix it.”

She headed into the bathroom, a mental list for the day scrolling through her mind.

Blaze spent the morning running. She had her hair tinted to bring back the once-natural highlights and hide the small amount of gray that was forming. The facial was an experience in wondrous relaxation, and she was surprised that it actually made her look younger.

Nancy came in the door and stood with her mouth hanging open. “Wow! You look amazing. Your hair looks great, and since when do you know how to apply makeup?”

Blaze shut the computer down. “I didn’t grow up in a monastery. I have makeup in the bathroom. Like my new shirt? I got four, each in a different color lace.”

Nancy clapped, her grin mischievous. “I love it. It is very sexy. You look good in that tightly fitted style with the flaring, sheer sleeves. The laces make it easier to get off, and that is a hot shade of purple.” She giggled and strode across the room to escape Blaze’s irritated gaze. “I need to go get my ass ready, or you will be stealing Nicky away from me.”

“Not my type, Nan.” Nancy disappeared into the bathroom as Blaze stood. She walked into the kitchen, the two dogs appearing the moment she removed their food from the cabinet. Blaze mixed the dry in with some fried ground beef and put the bowls to the floor. When Nancy came out of the bathroom, Blaze was finishing up the dishes.

“I’ll be up in a bit,” Nancy commented before heading down the stairs.

Blaze stared at the basement door, frowning at the sensation of nervousness that was rapidly building in her stomach. Her marriage to David had been safe and comfortable. They knew each other’s faults and strong points well. She hadn’t cared that David’s hair was thinning or that his once-toned physique had sagged slightly. David had accepted that she had gained fifty pounds, telling her that she was still beautiful. It was weight that had come off since his death, but her body was not as resilient as it had once been. Her skin was not as perfect, life leaving behind tiny red spots and slight patches of discoloration on her face and hands. She had aged far better than some of her friends, but the idea of standing naked in front of a man that she didn’t know had been haunting her all day. Did she really want to start over with someone else?

The door slid open, and Nancy tilted her head in question. “Are you okay?”

“I guess. Why?”

“I don’t know exactly, but you have a lost expression on your face.”

Blaze shrugged. “I was just thinking. I miss David.”

“Oh. I’m not asking you to forget him. I just think you could use someone in your life. I’m rarely here, and you spend way too much time talking to the dogs.”

The comment made Blaze smile. “I guess. Are you ready? If you wait too much longer, I’m going to change my mind.”

Ten minutes later they were walking out the door. Nancy bantered about current events at school as they drove across town, and Trish was waiting outside for them when they arrived. She whistled at Blaze. “You look hot!”

Blaze rolled her eyes. “Did Nancy put you up to that comment?”

“No.” Trish appeared truly wounded. “I meant it. All you ever seem to wear is baggy stuff that has no pizzazz. You look great.”

“Thank you. I’m also starved.”

The restaurant was buffet style, and they ate a pleasant mixture of samplings before rushing off to the Yellow Jacket.

Fras was busily setting up on stage. Nancy led them over to a table set with others on a raised platform up three stairs. She held up the card that said
Reserved for Nan
. Blaze glared at her. “I don’t want to be on display.”

“You’re not on display. I asked for this table because it is the farthest one from the speakers. I know how sensitive your hearing is. I don’t want you to go home with a headache.”

“Sorry. I’m a little nervous. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I have no idea why I’m here.”

“You are here to have a good time and maybe meet someone. Would it be all that bad to go out and do something with someone? Is the idea of having sex and sleeping in a man’s arms again that terrifying?”

Blaze shrugged as a young couple walked over and Trish went down to speak with them.

“I don’t know, Nan. I’m not exactly twenty-one anymore,” Blaze murmured as she let her eyes roam over the rapidly filling bar.

“So what? Are you looking to pick up a twenty-one-year-old guy?”

“Of course not.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“The problem is that I have far more flaws now than I did when I was younger.”

Nancy contorted her face into a dramatic expression of disgust. “If I look half as good as you when I get to be your age, I will be overjoyed. I can almost guarantee that you can pick up a guy who is far younger than you. If you find someone your own age that you like, then remember that he probably has far more flaws then he had at twenty-one also. Since when are you so concerned with appearance? You are always the one who accepts people on the merit of who they are, not what they look like.”

“You’re right. I have also never had to stand naked in front of my friends and wonder if I’m still sexy,” she retorted with her eyebrows raised in disgust.

A waitress came over with two glasses of wine. “These are on Trish.” She set the glasses on the table.

“Thank you.” Nancy groaned and turned back to Blaze. “You’re impossible. I’m not going to debate this with you. Lead a horse to water and all that shit. Change the subject. What do you think of Nicky?”

Nancy was right, the debate was a moot point brought about by Blaze’s reluctance to start a new life. “He’s kind of cute. A tad thin for my taste, but...”

Nan rolled her eyes in mock irritation and looked around the bar. She watched as a man walked through the door. “I think you would like him.”

As Blaze examined the young man, she realized that subconsciously she knew exactly what kind of man she wanted. If she was going to make a leap of faith outside her comfort zone, then she wasn’t going to settle for just anyone. “His hair is too short, and he is too young. If I am going to have a fun evening, it’s going to be worth my trouble. I didn’t spend all day getting ready to accept anything less than my idea of perfect. There probably won’t be a man in the bar who has a chance, unless my main character walks in.” She raised her glass, toasting in the air to her comment.

Nancy snorted. “You need to lower your standards. You are not going to find long, brown hair framing a perfect face supported by a muscled, magical body. An illusionary man like that only exists for the purpose of making masturbating fun.”

Blaze gagged on her drink. “That was really rude! I don’t believe you said that.”

“Well, it’s true. I have read your books, and they turn me on. I would love to be with a man like that, but they don’t exist. How about him? He is tall, built, and cute, if you like a man with long, wavy hair.”

Blaze turned, expecting to make another wisecrack and then didn’t. “Not bad. I like his hair. The sandy-brown waves are very attractive and soften the rough edges of his jawline. His blue eyes are gorgeous. I love a man with big, expressive eyes.”

Before the man reached the bar, a woman approached him and gave him a big smile. He offered her a chair and then sat down beside her. Blaze sighed. “Well, so much for tall and handsome. I’m not going after a man like that. I’m not a vulture.”

“She is,” said Nan. “If he has a lick of sense he won’t even buy her a drink. She is a bar hustler. She wants money and lots of it. You need to be careful not to get in the flipside of that. Don’t discuss finances with anyone.”

“I am not wealthy because I am stupid, Nan. Nicky is calling you,” she said, tilting her head toward the stage.

Nancy smiled and shrugged. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“I’m a big girl. Go enjoy yourself.”

Nan grabbed her drink and headed down the stairs. Blaze sat back, watching the people entering the bar. She began a psychological game of who the most likely partners would be before the end of the evening. A young man headed toward the platform, and she said to herself, “College boy. Cocky, really expensive sneakers meant to impress, with an expensive shirt open to reveal his chest hair. He thinks that he is sexy. Lives on Daddy’s money and wants to be a big shot.”

It took her by surprise when he came over and flipped the chair to sit down. “Can I buy you a drink? I couldn’t help but notice that your friend deserted you.”

“Thank you, but I have a drink. What’s your major?”

“Law, why?”

“Just wondering how a law student affords designer sneakers.”

“I afford them because my father is a senator. Is that a problem?”

“No, should it be?” she asked in a bantering tone.

“Oh, I don’t need this kind of game. I don’t want to be interrogated. Have a nice life.” He turned the chair back and strutted down the stairs. Blaze looked around to see which woman he was going after next and was right in her choice. Her eyes drifted back to the man at the bar, and she was saddened to see him gone.

The band began to play, but Nan and Trish didn’t return. She ordered another drink from a passing waitress, and before it arrived, she had two offers to dance. Blaze politely turned them both down, saying that she had bad knees. When a fight broke out at the table behind her, she turned to the commotion. A man and woman stood arguing, his shirt wet with her drink. The man slammed his glass down on the table and flipped his chair with his hand for accent as he walked away. The girl began to cry, sitting down with her head in her hands.

A hand touched Blaze’s shoulder, and she turned on the verge of swinging her fist. A sweet smile accented a questioning expression. It was the man that Nancy had pointed out earlier. He was a curious combination of gruff, mixed with businesslike. Blaze was instantly intrigued. “Can I sit down?”

“Please,” she replied with a nod of her head.

“I am Zar Russ, and you are?”

“Blaze Zeal. Your name is interesting. Is it a family name?”

“No, it is actually a nickname. My true name is Zackery Andrew Russ. When I was small, my father called me the little Zar. I have been called Zar ever since. Is Blaze your real name?”

“No, my real name is Bell. When I was in high school I decided to highlight my hair. I wanted to accent my part and lighten the top because it had darkened as I got older. I put the cap on and sat down in the reclining chair to watch television while fifteen minutes passed. I had one arm up behind my head, and I fell asleep. I woke up two hours later and called my friend’s mother in a panic. I had a platinum-blonde lightning bolt down the center of my head. She told me that there was nothing I could do without damaging my hair and chancing that it might fall out. I went to school and someone called me Bell the Blonde Blaze. I liked the Blaze part and I kept it.”

Zar smiled. “Your nickname is better than mine. So who is Blaze?”

“Blaze is a struggling writer who sells things on the net to earn extra money. Zar is?”

“I’m a construction boss who creates computer games for extra money. Do you have hobbies?”

“Yes, dragons, dogs, and medieval stuff. Swords, castles, and such. Do you? Please don’t say football or baseball.”

“You don’t like the great American pastimes?” he asked with an adorable smile and wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I have nothing against them as long as they are not blaring on my television as I am trying to write. I don’t like to watch them, and I don’t like a man who is addicted to Monday night football.”

“Ouch, you are honest. Is that how you chased the little boys away?”

“What little boys?”

“The ones who kept offering you drinks? Each one looked dejected when they came back down the stairs.”

“Would you feel dejected if I sent you away?”

“I would be heartbroken. I think you may be the only woman in this bar with a brain.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Obviously a false statement, because if I had a brain you wouldn’t try to use a line like that on me.”

“Ouch again.” He snapped his hand in the air as if cracking a whip. “Wit with a snap. You have my complete and utter attention. So tell me what kind of dragons do you collect? Cute ones or creepy ones?”

“I have cute ones in my living room and gothic ones in my tiny back bedroom where my computer is.”

“Gothic? Describe gothic.”

“You haven’t told me what you collect yet. We are getting into details before we set beginnings,” Blaze said with a smile.

“Fair enough. I collect tropical fish and amphibians. Luckily for me, I have a good friend who lives close-by and drives by my house on his way home from work. He set me up with an automated, self-cleaning tank and a system that will feed my little pets for two weeks without worry. He also stops over and checks on them for me if he knows that I won’t be home. I also, oddly enough, collect medieval fighting tools and toys.”