"I'll help you. We'll find something."
She'd help me. We'd find something. It sounded sort of ominous. Pre-date jitters. Who, me?
Chapter 13
At 5:15 that afternoon I was on the phone to Richard Zeeman. "Hi, Richard, this is Anita Blake."
"Nice to hear your voice." His voice was smiling over the phone; I could almost feel it.
"I forgot that I've got a Halloween party to go to Saturday afternoon. They started the party during daylight so I could make an appearance. I can't not show up."
"I understand," he said. His voice was very carefully neutral--neutral cheerful.
"Would you like to be my date for the party? I have to work Halloween night, of course, but the day could be ours."
"And the caving?"
"A rain check," I said.
"Two dates; this could be serious."
"You're laughing at me," I said.
"Never."
"Shit, do you want to go or not?"
"If you promise to go caving a week from Saturday."
"My solemn word," I said.
"It's a deal." He was quiet on the phone for a minute. "I don't have to wear a costume for this party, do I?"
"Unfortunately, yes," I said.
He sighed.
"Backing out?"
"No, but you owe me two dates for humiliating myself in front of strangers."
I grinned and was glad he couldn't see it, I was entirely too pleased. "Deal."
"What costume are you wearing?" he asked.
"I haven't got one yet. I told you I forgot the party; I meant it."
"Hmm," he said. "I think picking out costumes should tell a lot about a person, don't you?"
"This close to Halloween we'll be lucky to find anything in our size."
He laughed. "I might have an ace up my sleeve."
"What?"
He laughed again. "Don't sound so damn suspicious. I've got a friend who's a Civil War buff. He and his wife do re-creations."
"You mean like dress up?"