Searching for patience, Mia put on the jacket. Its hem grazed an inch above the bottom of the skirt, turning the sexy little dress into a sexy little suit. "I find that an odd question coming from a former flower child. You probably didn't even own any underwear from1963 to1972 . "
"Did so. I had a very pretty pair of tie-dyed panties for special occasions. "
Undone, Mia leaned back on the seat and chuckled. "Oh, Lu. What an image that creates in my feverish little brain. Just what sort of special occasion called for tie-dyed panties?"
"Don't change the subject, and answer the question. "
"Well, I don't own anything quite that festive, but I'm wearing underwear - after a fashion. So if I'm in an accident, I'm safe. "
"I'm not worried about an accident. I'm worried about on purpose. "
Straightening, Mia leaned down, cupped Lulu's homely face in her hands. She hadn't had to search for patience after all, she realized. She'd only had to remember love.
"You don't have to worry at all. I promise. "
"My job is to worry," Lulu muttered.
"Then take a break. I'm going to have a lovely dinner, find out just what business it is Sam's cooking up, and enjoy the side benefit of driving him crazy. "
"You've still got a thing for him. "
"I never had a thing for him. I loved him. "
Lulu's shoulders drooped. "Oh, honey. " She lifted a hand, fussed with Mia's hair. "I wish he'd stayed in goddamn New York City. "
"Well, he didn't. I don't know if what I'm feeling now is just left over from what I felt then, or if it's because of now, or all the years between. Shouldn't I find out?"
"Being you, you have to. But I wish you'd kick his ass first. "
Mia turned, slipped on a hammered-gold necklace that dripped a slim column of pearls between her breasts. "If this dress doesn't kick his ass, I don't know what will. "
Lulu curled her lip, angled her head. "Maybe you're not so stupid. "
"I learned from the best. " Mia colored her lips in murderous red, shook back her wild cloud of hair,
turned. "So, how do I look?"
"Like a man-eater. "
"Perfect. "
Mia thought she timed it perfectly as well. At precisely seven, she strolled into the lobby of the Magick Inn. The young desk clerk glanced over, goggled, then dropped the sheaf of papers in his hand. Pleased, she shot him a killer smile, then breezed into Sorcery, the hotel's main dining room. There was a moment of surprise as she scanned the room and saw the changes. Sam had been busy, she realized, and felt an unwilling tug of pride.
The standard white tablecloths had been replaced by rich midnight-blue ones, the china on them a moon-bright contrast. The old clear glass vases had been removed, and now brass and copper pots rioting with white lilies formed ribbons of glint and fragrance. The crystal glassware had a heavy, almost medieval look.
Each table was graced with a small copper cauldron. Candlelight flickered through cutouts in the shapes of stars and crescent moons.
For the first time in her memory, the room reflected, and honored, its name. Impressed, approving, she stepped in. And experienced a fast, hard jolt.
There on the wall was a life-size painting of three women. The three sisters, backed by the forest and the night sky, looked down at her from a frame of ornate antique gold. They were robed in white, and the folds of those robes, the tendrils of their hair, seemed to move in an unseen wind. She saw Nell's blue eyes, Ripley's green ones. And her own face.
"Like it?" Sam said from behind her.
She swallowed so that her voice would be clear. "It's stunning. "
"I had it commissioned nearly a year ago. It just arrived today. "
"It's beautiful work. The models . . . "
"There were no models. The artist worked from my descriptions. From my dreams. "
"I see. " She turned to face him. "He or she is very talented. "
"She. A Wiccan artist living in SoHo. I think she captured . . . " He trailed off as he shifted his gaze from the portrait to Mia. Every thought in his head scattered in pure, primal lust. "You look amazing. "
"Thank you. I like, very much, what you've done with the restaurant. "
"It's a start. " He started to take her arm, then realized his palms had gone damp. "I'm having new lighting designed. Something in brass, more lanternlike. And I want - well, why don't we sit before I bore you with all my plans. "
"On the contrary. " But she let him guide her to an intimate corner booth where, she noted, a bottle of champagne was already chilling.
She slid in, then deliberately slipped out of her jacket. She watched his eyes blur, but to his credit, his gaze stayed primarily on her face. "Warm in here," she said, then nodded to the waiter when he poured her champagne. "What are we drinking to?"
Sam sat, picked up his own glass. "One question before we get to that. Are you trying to kill me?"
"No. Just kick your ass. "
"Done. I don't think a woman's made my hands sweat since, well, since you. Now if I can just get some of the blood back into my head. " When she laughed, he tapped his glass to hers. "To mutual business. "
"Do we have any?"
"That's what this is about. First, regarding dinner. I pre-ordered. I think I remember your taste. If that doesn't suit you, I'll get you a menu. "
Smooth, she thought. Very smooth. The man had learned how and when to polish over all those dangerous edges. When it suited him.
"I don't mind the occasional surprise. " She sat back, let her gaze drift around the room. "Business is good. "
"It is. And I intend for it to get better. The first-floor renovations should be complete in another two weeks. The new presidential suite rocks. "
"So I hear. Your contractor is my contractor. "
"So I hear. When do you plan to start your expansion?"
"Soon. " She glanced at the variety of appetizers placed on the table by silent waiters. She sampled a bit of lobster pate.
"I hope to keep the inconvenience to my customers at a minimum. Still, during the main part of the work, I imagine you'll pick up some of my lunch crowd. " She paused for a beat. "Temporarily. "
"Improvements to your business only benefit mine, and vice versa. "
"I can agree to that. "
"Why not exploit it? I want to stock some local-interest books, maybe some current bestsellers, in the luxury suites. A discreet card or bookmark could advertise your store. "
"And?" She waited for the catch.
"You get a lot of day-trippers. Again, using the local-interest a
ngle, what if they bought a particular book you've selected - a book on the island's history, whatever. A purchase of that book gives them a chance to win a free weekend's stay at the hotel. They fill out a form with their name and address, we pull a ticket once a month during the season, and somebody gets lucky. "
"And we have all those names on our mailing list. "