Black Rose Page 0,10

have a drink here and discuss, I assume, our little project."

"Cool. You ought to spin it out over dinner, Roz."

"It's not a date." But she did pull out her lipstick and slide a little pale coral on her lips. "It's an impromptu meeting. If anything comes up, you can give me a call. I should be heading home within the hour anyway."

"Don't worry about a thing. And, hey, you've both got to eat sometime, somewhere, so why not - "

"Here he comes now, so we'll get started. I'll fill everyone in later. Bye now."

Mitch slipped into the booth across from her. "This was handy, wasn't it? What would you like?"

She ordered a glass of wine, and he coffee, black. Then he flipped open the bar menu and added antipasto. "You've got to need some sustenance after a shopping safari like that. How've you been?"

"Very well, thanks. How about you?"

"Good, now that the book's out of my hair."

"I never asked you what it was about."

"A history and study of Charles-Pierre Baudelaire." He waited a beat, noted her questioning lift of brows. "Nineteenth-century poet. Wild man of Paris - druggie, very controversial, with a life full of drama. He was found guilty of blasphemy and obscenity, squandered his inheritance, translated Poe, wrote dark, intense poetry, and, long after his death from a sexually transmitted disease, is looked on by many to be the poet of modern civilization - and others as being one sick bastard."

She smiled. "And which camp do you pitch your tent in?"

"He was brilliant, and twisted. And believe me, you don't want to get me started, so I'll just say he was a fascinating and frustrating subject to write about."

"Are you happy with the work you did?"

"I am. Happier yet," he said as their drinks were served, "not to be living with Baudelaire day and night."

"It's like that, isn't it, like living with a ghost."

"Nice segue." He toasted her with his coffee. "Let me say, first, I appreciate your patience. I'd hoped to have this book wrapped up weeks ago, but one thing led to another."

"You warned me at the start you wouldn't be available for some time."

"Hadn't expected it to be quite this much time. And I've given quite a bit of thought to your situation. Hard not to after that experience last spring."

"It was a more personal introduction to the Harper Bride than I'd planned."

"You've said she's been . . . subdued," he decided, "since then."

"She still sings to the boys and to Lily. But none of us has seen her since that night. And to be frank, it hasn't been patience so much as being swamped myself. Work, home, a wedding coming up, a new baby in the house. And after that night, it seemed like all of us needed a little break."

"I'd like to get started now, really started, if that works for you."

"I suppose it was fate that we ran into each other like this, because I've been thinking the same thing. What will you need?"

"Everything you've got. Hard data, records, journals, letters, family stories. Nothing's too obscure. I appreciate the family photos you had copied for me. It just helps me immerse, you could say, if I have photos, and letters or diaries written in the hands of the people I'm researching."

"No problem. I'll be happy to load you up with more."

"Some of what I've managed so far - between bouts with Baudelaire - is what we'll call a straight job. Starting to chart the basic family tree, getting a feel for the people and the line. Those are the first steps."

"And at the end of the day, something I'll enjoy having."

"I wonder if there's a place I could work in your house. I'd do the bulk in my apartment, but it might be helpful if I had some space on site. The house plays a vital part in the research, and the results."

"That wouldn't be a problem."

"For the Amelia portion of the project, I'd like a list of names. Anyone who's had any sort of contact with her I'll need to interview."

"All right."

"And the written permission we talked about before, for me to access family records, birth, marriage, death certificates, that sort of thing."

"You'll have it."

"And permission to use the research, and what I pull out of it, in a book."

She nodded. "I'd want manuscript approval."

He smiled at her, charmingly. "You won't get it."

"Well, really - "

"I'll be happy to provide you with a copy, when and if, but you won't have