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monk and his robes were black. There was someone else, too, in some kind of religious—oh, Angela Sims. She was a nun in black. She doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t think she’d attack other women?”
“You said to leave motive out of it, Stretch. Angela’s big and strong.”
“Corinne was pretty sure it was a man,” I said doubtfully. “But OK, we’ll consider Angela. Who else?”
“That Dracula, the one who kept quiet all night so no one could identify him. Who was he?”
“I don’t know, but Characters, Inc. can tell me. I’ll call the shop in the morning. Oof, I’m half-asleep with all this food. Let’s go out on the deck and look at the lights.”
But Aaron dug in his heels again. “It’ll be freezing out there. Drink your coffee and let’s go home.”
“Look, I’m the host here tonight, and I want to go out on the deck.” I tried to keep it good-humored, but it came out peevish.
“Well, I’m your guest here tonight, and I don’t.” He didn’t even try for humor. “I’ll be at the bar.”
“Well, OK.”
“OK.”
We parted ways, each in our own separate huff. It was freezing out there, with a big wet wind, but I was determined to stay long enough to make Aaron uncomfortable. Like a mule with red hair, my father used to say.
My father, I thought suddenly. Of course.
I marched back inside and found Aaron sitting with his elbows on the bar, a drink and an ashtray between them. I felt so contrite I didn’t even care about the cigarette. He deserved one.
“It’s acrophobia, isn’t it?” I said quietly.
“How did you know?”
I sat on the barstool beside him. We were enclosed in a buzz of voices, over which floated the pianist’s haunting rendition of “Send in the Clowns.” I love that song. “I should have known right away. My dad had a fear of heights, a bad one. He hid it as best he could. I tried to take him and Mom up here once for their anniversary and she had to explain why it wouldn’t work. Aaron, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Why do you think?” He angled his head and ran one thumb along his eyebrow, hiding his face from me. “I was embarrassed. I know how you feel about big, strong men—”
“What are you talking about?”
He turned to me. He had the nicest eyes, a dark, polished brown. “I’m talking about how you can hardly stand to go out with a short guy, let alone a short guy with phobias.”
“Aaron, that’s not true! Look, I was tall and gawky as a girl, and I’m still a little self-conscious about my height. That’s all. Doesn’t mean I’m looking for some macho monster.”
“So who are you looking for, Stretch?” He put out his cigarette and finished his drink. “Are you looking for me?”
“Wel-l-l, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”
“So talk.”
The bartender showed up just then, which bought me a few minutes. I ordered brandy, inhaled the golden fumes, and took a sip. And then I took the plunge.
“Aaron, I need some time. I’m still shaken up by what happened this summer with Holt, and I feel like you’re trying to rush me into bed.”
“Rush you?” He looked genuinely puzzled, and laid his hand on mine. “I’m not trying to rush you, Slim.”
“But you talk about sex all the time—”
“That’s just talk!” He smiled, that wonderful, winning smile. “You know, repartee, wordplay, romantic banter? I’m just letting you know how attractive you are to me. I’m not laying down an ultimatum.”
“So you don’t mind waiting?”
“Of course I mind! You drive me crazy. But if you need some time, you’ve got it. I’m not going anywhere.”
I felt a warm glow of relief, and brandy.
“Of course, there is one problem,” he went on. “You’re going to have to help me out tonight. ’Cause if I don’t get what I want from you tonight, then it’s all over.”
The glow faded. “What do you mean?”
“Well…” He was trying not to smile, but it broke through. Zorro was back. “Well, I am shit-scared of that elevator ride, and if you don’t hold my hand on the way down, I’m going to have to jump down to the monorail.”
I began to laugh. “I think that can be arranged.”
Chapter Sixteen
REHEARSAL DINNERS CAN BE MORE FUN THAN WEDDINGS— more intimate and relaxed, imbued with hospitality instead of stage fright. They’re flexible, too, having evolved far beyond the simple function of nourishing the wedding party after the rigors of the rehearsal.