The Immaculate Deception (6 page)

Cars dropped people at the steps. A line formed as invitations were verified. He scooted me around the queue. The invitation checkers nodded to my mate. We sauntered right past them all. Oh the marble…the grand staircase…the chandeliers. Just like I’d imagined.

We meandered to the cloakroom. Dream boy unbuttoned my coat. Hey, naked at the White House? What the heck, this was my dream. Our eyes locked as his long fingers tenderly undid each button. I shivered as he softly brushed my bare shoulders while removing the frock. He handed it to the coat check girl.

My soul mate leaned down and whispered, “Breathtaking, Donna.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and then open, before nervously checking to see if I was wearing anything. I heaved a sigh of relief upon the sight of my powder blue taffeta ball gown. Strapless, low-necked and cinched nicely at the waist and then full and sassy to the floor. I kicked out one foot to see a sparkly silver pump. I kicked the other foot out. Good, two shoes, both had heels and they matched.

He presented me with a corsage, white baby roses around a small blue carnation. I allowed him to pin it on me. He smelled really good. Soap. I heard his breathing deepen as he slid one finger inside my cleavage in order to fasten the big teardrop-shaped pearl-headed pin. I exhaled. He smiled and offered his arm.

We traipsed into the gala dining room. Waiters scurried about, fussing with place settings and floral arrangements.

“
Hungry, love?” my mate whispered in my ear.

“
Sure. Got any hamburgers?”

“
Not tonight. Do you like shrimp?”

“
Yes, I
adore
shrimp.”

He grabbed a silver serving tray from a young African American waitress. She said, “Agent, these are for the guests.”

“
Katherine, I’m escorting Miss Donna tonight and she needs nourishment.”

Katherine looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Miss Donna. He’s always snatchin’ goodies. Would you be wantin’ some champagne to wash them down with? How about a tray of cheeses and crackers too?”

“
No crackers, I’m on a low-carb diet.”

“
What’s a low-carb diet?” Katherine asked.

My mate said, “She eats meat.”

Sure I ate meat. Wouldn’t mind eating some of his right now. I blushed.

Katherine’s eyes bulged. “I’ll be back with some drinks and cheeses. Why don’t you all make yourselves comfy up in the second-floor gathering area?”

My mate laughed and watched the pretty girl walk away. I felt a ping of jealousy. He had said he was my mate. Did that mean literally man-woman mating or did I misinterpret and he meant mate as in friend, pal? He carried the tray of jumbo shrimp and escorted me to the elevator. We nibbled while being transported to the second floor.

“
Katherine-the-maid called you
Agent
. Are you?”

“
Yes.”

“
What kind of agent? Secret agent, IRS agent, ticket agent, real estate agent, talent agent or literary agent?”

Dream boy shoved a big chilled shrimp between my lips and said in an oh-so-sexy whisper, “Secret agent, at your service, sweetheart.”

Gosh, that whisper sent down shivers down my spine. He brushed the hair back from my ear first and I nearly squealed in anticipation of his lips touching my skin.

The elevator doors opened to an informal gathering area, with a big Palladian window at the end of a hallway.

“
The family living quarters are right through that door.” He gestured with his hand.

He had long, strong fingers. No rings. No telltale tan line either. Good.

“
Oh we should go.” I turned to get back on the elevator but the doors had shut. I tried to find a button to push.

“
Relax, it’s okay, I work here.”

“
But…” I couldn’t think of any reason why we needed to leave, even though I felt like there should be one.

I followed my mate over to an oval mahogany coffee table, where he placed the tray. He motioned for me to sit on a red velvet sofa. I did. He switched on a large radio and tuned in a station. The host announced the next song, “Technicolor Dreams” by the Hugh Gibb orchestra.

Dream boy reached for my hand. I stood and he led me out to the center of the hallway. He slid one hand around my waist and squeezed my hand with his other one. We floated around to the movie musical song. I felt like Ginger Rogers in one of those nineteen-forties movies. I loved dancing and somehow tonight I seemed proficient at it. He was an amazing partner. I couldn’t help giggling when he dipped me. The song ended. Dream boy kept swaying as the station break came on.

He asked, “Where have you been all my life?”

Yes, it was just a clichéd pick-up line like in the movies. But he made it sound so real. I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. I focused on his full lips. They inched down closer to mine. Closer…
Shoot
. I felt eyes watching me.

Katherine cleared her throat. “Cheeses without crackers, deviled eggs and a popped bottle of champagne are on the table.” She handed us each a bubbly-filled glass. “It taste like duck water but they don’t give Miz Stoneburner a good ’nuff budget. Call the kitchen if you be needin’ another bottle.”

My man told her, “Thanks, doll.”

Katherine departed in the elevator.

He smiled at me and raised his glass. “May our dreams always be in Technicolor.”

We clinked glasses and intertwined our arms. As I brought the goblet to my lips in slow motion, a red rubber playground ball knocked it out of my hand.

He said, “Play dead! I’ll be right back. Don’t you move now.”

I dropped to the floor, curled into the fetal position and covered my head. People scurried around, red balls flying. I peeked to see Vera Blandings run past me, propelling a rolling desk chair with a top hat on the seat. The hat appeared to be full of eggs.
Vera Blandings?
Daddy’s first wife, Perry’s biological momma and Cary Grant’s co-star in Hitchcock’s classic
Mother May I
? Why was I dreaming about her?

I stayed as still as I could but I developed a cramp in my foot and had to take off one shoe. I glanced around, everything appeared to have calmed down and I was alone. I shook my foot like a dog.

“
All clear. The drill was successful.” My secret agent man knelt down and grasped my stockinged foot. He drew both of his thumbs up and down the middle bottom. It felt so good it was amazing I didn’t come.

He read my face and appeared very pleased with himself. “There, does that feel better?”

“
Yes…” I cooed.

As he slipped my sparkly silver shoe back on, I noticed the opaque stockings. I screwed my face up. They weren’t sexy and didn’t fit so well. Tight at the ankles. And I didn’t have thick ankles.

“
What’s wrong, love?”

“
The stockings. I don’t like ’em. How come they aren’t silk or even nylon?”

“
Nylon? They don’t make ’em anymore. All nylon is being sewn into parachutes for the war.”

Oh right, I was dreaming in the forties, World War Two and all that stuff.

My mate helped me up.

“
Did you say something about a drill?”

“
Yes, all White House employees practice evacuating the President in case of attack. There have been recent credible threats… Um, I won’t elaborate.”

“
Did I just see Vera Blandings,
the movie star
, run through here pushing a hat full of eggs on a rolling chair?”

“
Probably.
Movie star?
No. Vera is presently President Roosevelt’s personal secretary.”

“
But she’s my daddy’s first wife. And my half-brother Perry’s mother.”

“
Not at this moment in time.” Dream boy popped a deviled egg in his mouth. “Sit down. Eat.”

I did. The cheese tray was beautifully arranged. Waffle-cut cheddar, small discs of Gouda and tiny triangles of Swiss. The White House, the food, this great guy… This dream really couldn’t get much better. I was having more fun than I ever remembered in my real life.

I dipped a shrimp in cocktail sauce and devoured it. I washed it down with champagne. “
President Roosevelt?
Oh of course, that makes sense now. The hat with the eggs in it represents the President, she has to be careful that it doesn’t fall off and he doesn’t get hurt. And the chair is because of his polio.”

He nodded to my cleavage. Normally I’d be mock offended but after all, this was
my mate
. Dream boy kept topping up my champagne.

“
You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”

He drained the last drop from the bottle and licked the green glass rim provocatively. “I assure you, Cinderella, my intentions are honorable.”

“
Drat.”

We both laughed. I set my ever-filled glass on the coffee table. I cocked my head, smiled at him and asked, “What’s your name?”

He looked as though he was trying to suppress a grin. The resulting expression was adorable.

“
Well?”

“
I told you, I’m your soul mate.”

I hiccupped and patted my lips. I really was in no shape for metaphysical discussions. “Yeah, I know. My soul mate across history. Whatever that is. Let’s just keep it simple to begin with, handsome. So come on now, what is my soul mate’s name?”

“
Jones.”

“
Well, Mr. Jones, I am very pleased to meet you. Now what’s your first name?”

“
I’m not at liberty to reveal it…at this point in time, love.”

I laughed and shook my head. As I exhaled, I sighed. “Okay, I’ll play along. Jones is a fine, strong name. My roommate’s name is Jones.”

“
Is it now?” he grimaced.

I nodded. “I take that as a very good sign that we will get along famously, you and I. Why are you suddenly sullen? My roommate is a woman, Ashley Jones. I’m not living with a man, for heaven’s sake. As a matter of fact we haven’t even met face-to-face yet, we have different schedules.”

“
No, love, I am not jealous of your roommate. It’s just… We need to enjoy every moment we have together.”

“
So smile.”

He did.

I stood up.

“
Leaving so soon, love?”

“
Huh? Oh no, I don’t want to leave. Not at all. Just need to use the necessary room.”

“
The closest toilet is through that doorway and make a left.” He pointed to where he’d told me the private family living quarters were.

“
I can’t go in
there
.”

“
Sure you can, love. Follow me.”

And so I did.

Chapter Three

H
e stopped in front of the door. I heard music seeping out. The “Donna” song. My bladder was really full. As soon as I turned the doorknob, I felt the wind swarming like a whirlpool of summer gnats. I tried to shut it quick but it was too late. I was standing in Momma’s lavender bathroom. Dream over. Back to my sucky reality. Sigh. These connected dreams were really bizarre. I sure did like Mr. Jones. If only he were real. A draft wafted in from the open window. Momma always left her bathroom window cracked, even in the middle of winter. She had this suffocation phobia or something, always needed fresh air. Hey, wait a minute. How did I get in her bathroom? I fell asleep in the basement closet. Jeeze, now I was sleepwalking. What next?

I did what needed to be done, washed my hands and stared into Momma’s magic mirror, the full-length one on the back of the bathroom door. Momma had always said she needed a cushion to sit on when forced to sit in a hard chair because “I don’t have any padding in the back”. Oh yes, she did. So I figured her magic mirror must do a liposuction reflection.

I stood sideways, hoping to see magic. Nope. Apparently, it only worked for Momma. Gosh, Tammy was right, I did look like crap. Well, I had been in a major auto accident, I didn’t have my own clothes and furthermore, I really could use a day of beauty. But with all the sleep I’d over-caught up on, you’d think my face would be rosy and taut. But no. A yellow-green bruise blanketed my forehead and seven scabby little slashes radiated through both blond eyebrows and continued to the tip of my nose. My skin was a tapestry of irritated red and pasty white, with a zit forming on my chin. Great.

I heard the doorbell chiming incessantly. I inhaled deeply and then shuffled into the living room. Kneeling on the leather couch in front of the picture window, I peered through the heavy gold drapes. Two vehicles were parked in front. One in the driveway, one on the street. The mourners had arrived.

I ran my fingers through my curls as I stumbled down the steps and opened the front door.

Mr. Meddlestein said, “Oh good, you’re here. We thought we’d gotten the time wrong. Well, move aside, it’s hot out here.”

Furrowing my brows into a scowl, I turned, opened the basement door and then stepped out of the way, onto the first stair leading back up to the living room. I said, “Down there,” and pointed down.