got more, and if you're thinking to repeat this performance on the rest of my clothes, I'll tell you now I'll walk out of here bare-assed naked before I give in to this kind of blackmail. So you go have your temper fit somewhere else."
Roz tossed the sweater onto her bed, marched back to her dresser. She grabbed a sweater at random, dragged it over her head. Her fingers trembled as much with rage as distress as she pulled on jeans.
"I make my own decisions," she ranted, "and always have. Keep this up, you just keep this up, and I'll sleep with him just to piss you off."
She finished dressing, shoved her feet into her boots, grabbed the leather coat, then had to order herself not to slam the door.
On the other side, she leaned back against it, breathed in and out until she was calm again. One thing for certain, she decided, she and Mitch wouldn't lack for things to talk about en route to the game.
Still she waited until they were on their way, with the lights of Harper House behind them. "There are a couple of things I need to tell you, then I think it'd be nice if both of us put business aside for a few hours."
"Something happen?"
"Yes. First, I had an irritating encounter at work one day recently with an acquaintance who has gold-medaled in the gossip Olympics for more than twenty consecutive years."
"Hell of a record."
"And she's proud of it. It dealt with my ex-husband, and isn't important of itself, but it upset me a bit, gave me what I call a temper headache, so I went home, took some aspirin, and decided to lie down for a few minutes. I wasn't asleep, just sort of hovering in that nice, cozy in-between - and in my head I was out in the garden, sitting on the bench in the shade, and it was late spring."
"How did you know it was spring?"
"Late spring, early June. I could tell by the plants, the flowers that were blooming. Then it got cold."
She told him the rest, careful with every detail.
"This is the first dream you've mentioned."
"It wasn't a dream. I wasn't asleep." She gave an impatient wave of her hand. "I know people say that all the time, when theythought they were awake. I was awake."
"All right. You should know."
"She took me there in my mind. I felt the cold, I smelled the flowers - the white roses on the arbor - I felt the air on my skin. All the while I was aware, in another part of myself, that I was still in my room, on the bed, with the headache pounding."
"Disconcerting."
"You're subtle," she replied. "Yes, it was disconcerting. Disorienting and upsetting. I don't like having anyone direct my thoughts. And the way she looked at me, when she opened her eyes in that grave, it was with a terrible kind of . . . love. She's never hurt me, and I've never felt that she would. Until tonight."
He pulled off the side of the road, braked hard, then turned to her. The calm she most usually saw in him, felt from him, was replaced by a percolating anger. "What do you mean? Did she attack you? For God's sake - "
"Not me, but a very nice cashmere sweater. It was a birthday gift, so I've only had it since November, and I'm still mad she ruined it."
"Tell me exactly what happened."
When she had, he sat back, tapped his fingers on the wheel. "She didn't want you coming out with me tonight."
"Apparently not, but that's too bad. Here I am."
He looked at her again. "Why?"
"I said I would, and I do what I say I will. Then you can add that she made me mad, and I don't back down, either. And lastly, I wanted to explore whether or not I'm going to like your company on a purely social level."
"You shoot very straight."
"I do. It irritates some people."
"I'm not one of them. Sorry about the sweater."
"So am I."
"We could speculate - "
"We could," Roz interrupted. "But I'd just as soon not, right now. She didn't stop the evening, so I don't see why she should drive it, either. Why don't we talk about something else until it's time to get down to business again?"
"Sure. What would you like to talk about?"
"I could start by wondering out loud how long you intend to sit here beside the road, and how late that's going to