"Thank you," Drina murmured, slipping first one arm and then the other into the sleeves.
"You're welcome," Tiny said cheerfully, and she swore his eyes were twinkling as he shifted his gaze from her to Harper, who was still silent but had closed his mouth and lowered his arm. "Well, you two kids have fun."
Drina smiled wryly at the man, though she couldn't have said whether it was at his calling them kids when they were both pretty much ancient, or at the suggestion they have fun when she was positive that was impossible.
"Right," Harper said, snapping to life as she reached his side. "The helicopter landed just across the street in the schoolyard." His gaze dropped to her heels and turned, concerned. "Can you manage in those shoes? It's icy out there."
"Maybe you should wear the thigh-high boots, instead, Drina," Stephanie suggested suddenly. "Those are FMs too, but would have more traction. They'd also be warmer."
"Thigh-high boots would work with that dress," Mirabeau decided. "In fact, they'd be sexy as heck with it."
"The shoes are fine," Drina insisted, flushing with embarrassment at all the attention. Everyone in the room was now staring at her legs in the fishnet stockings. Fishnet, for God's sake! The only thing she could think of that would be sluttier was the thigh-high boots.
"Well, I suppose Harper can carry you if you find it too slippery," Stephanie said cheerfully.
"Right. The boots then," Drina snapped, tossing a glare at the teenager as she moved out into the pantry to get them. She almost tried to don them right there, leaning against the wall, but gave up that idea when she nearly fell over just trying to remove the shoes.
Sighing with exasperation, she carried the boots back into the dining room and sat down to quickly remove her shoes. She then tugged on first one boot, and the other, trying to ignore just how much leg she was flashing while doing so. Drina then stood up and moved back to Harper's side.
"All set," she said with forced cheer.
Harper tore his eyes away from her boots, swallowed, nodded, and then took her arm and ushered her to the door, muttering, "Don't wait up."
She was crossing the deck when Drina decided she was glad to be wearing the boots after all. It was cold as the dickens, and the boots at least kept her legs from freezing. They were also easier to walk in than the shoes, which were probably an inch taller. Not that the boots didn't have high heels too, but they were at least manageable. She'd felt like she was on stilts in the shoes.
Drina eyed the helicopter as they crossed the street. She then glanced around, noting that traffic had slowed to a stop, and people were looking out the windows of the surrounding houses. As transportation went, it definitely wasn't your low-profile choice. By her guess, every phone in town would be ringing before they'd lifted off.
Heck, half of them were probably already ringing, she thought wryly, as they ducked to rush under the blades to the helicopter door.
Chapter Five
No one had mentioned how long the trip to Toronto would be by helicopter, and Drina wasn't wearing a watch, so couldn't check, but it didn't seem to take long. Though that might have been because she was busy gazing wide-eyed down at the passing lights. She'd expected they would land in another schoolyard once they reached Toronto, so was a bit startled when they set down on the top of a building.
It obviously wasn't their destination, however. After riding down in an elevator, Harper led her through a huge, majestic lobby and outside to the curb, where a car waited. Drina sighed as she settled against the warm, cushioned seats. She listened absently as Harper spoke to the driver, and then they were moving.
"The Night Club doesn't do much in the way of food," Harper explained as he settled back in the seat next to her. "So I booked a table at a restaurant for supper. I hope that's all right?"
"Of course," Drina said with a smile. "Actually, now that you mention it, I am rather hungry."
"So am I. Now we just have to hope that this restaurant is good," he said wryly. "I called my vice president for suggestions of where to go, not thinking that as an immortal he doesn't eat. He assured me this place is good, though, for what that's worth."
"Your vice president?" Drina asked curiously.
"I have a frozen-food business," he admitted with a self-deprecating grimace. "Silly, I suppose, for an immortal to run one, but I was a cook when I was much younger, and while I eventually lost interest in eating, I never really lost interest in food itself," he admitted, sounding embarrassed. "So my business down through the centuries has always been in some area of food service or other. Pubs, restaurants, and finally, frozen entrees. We've branched out to wine as well the last decade or so."
"Oh, well that's-" Drina paused and glanced out the window as the car slowed and pulled to the curb.
"It wasn't far, but I thought with it being so cold tonight, a car might be the better bet," he explained, and then leaned forward to say something to the driver. She caught what sounded like there was no need for the man to get out and get the door, and something about calling when they were done here, and then Harper opened his door and slid out. By the time Drina slid across the seat, he had turned back and was holding out his hand.
Smiling, she clasped his fingers and lifted one booted leg and then the other out to the sidewalk, trying not to panic as she felt her skirt slide up her legs. That concern was forgotten, however, as she felt the slippery surface of the sidewalk under her boot. Holding her breath, she stood up, relieved when her feet stayed under her, and she didn't do anything as unglamorous as fall on her butt on the icy concrete.
Harper ushered her a step away from the door, and then turned back to close it. The moment he'd turned away, she gave her skirt a quick tug to put it back where it belonged. By the time he turned back, she had finished and was smiling calmly.
He ushered her inside, and Drina glanced around as he spoke to the maitre d', noting the low lighting, the crisp white linen, blood red candles, and what she would bet was real silver on the tables. Almost all of which seemed occupied. Then Harper was taking her coat and handing it along with his own over to a smiling young man in a black tux who whisked them away as another young man, similarly outfitted, led them through the quiet restaurant to one of the few unoccupied tables she could see.
"Thank you," Drina murmured, accepting the menu offered to her. She then glanced around again as the fellow left. The restaurant was busy, but the atmosphere subdued, soft music playing unobtrusively in the background and the dinner guests speaking in soft tones. A far cry from the restaurant where they'd had their lunch that day. There the music playing had been some form of rock or pop, played loudly enough that people had to speak up to be heard over it. This was nicer, Drina decided, and smiled faintly as she turned her attention to her menu.
"So," Harper said moments later, as their waiter left with their orders. "You know about my little business. How about you? Have you always been a hunter?"