Blackfoot Affair Part 9

They both watched as Marisa rounded the corner for the elevator. A uniformed man wearing a badge labeled "hotel security" approached Jack and looked him over carefully. Since Jack was standing innocently in the hall, the security guard merely hesitated for a moment and then walked over to the desk.

"May I make a suggestion?" Tracy asked Jack gently.

Jack turned to face her, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. He shrugged wearily. "Please do."

"You're handling this all wrong."

He surveyed her archly. "No kidding."

"Marisa is not giving you the runaround."

He sighed. "You could have fooled me."

"Have you got a minute?"

Jack glanced toward the dining room where the redhead was waiting for him. "Sure. Come on, we'll go inside."

Tracy walked along with him and said, "You must have a very understanding date."

"She's not my date. She's my college roommate's wife."

"You didn't tell me that earlier," Tracy said, smiling.

He saw her glance and smiled slightly himself. "All right, I didn't tell you everything but I didn't lie. She does work for the Miami Herald. Just let me explain all this for a moment and then we can talk."

Tracy stood aside as Jack held a brief conversation with the woman, who grinned and rose, nodding at Tracy as she pa.s.sed. When she had left, Jack pulled out a chair for Tracy and then sat down, facing her across the table.

"Okay, I'm all ears."

Tracy folded her hands on the snowy linen tablecloth. "Look, I think there's something we should get straight from the start. Are you seriously interested in Marisa, or are you just fooling around?"

"Who are you, her mother?" Jack asked, amused.

"Answer the question."

He looked down for a moment, then up again, his expression now wary. "I'm serious," he said, as if he didn't quite want to admit it.

"And you think she's leading you on and then backing off at the last minute, playing teenage games with you."

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "I don't know if I would put it quite that way."

"Any way you put it, that's why you're annoyed, isn't it?"

He looked away, then nodded.

"All right. She would kill me if she knew I were telling you this, but she's not playing hard to get. She's frightened."

"Of me?" Jack said alertly.

"Of a relations.h.i.+p with you. A physical relations.h.i.+p."

He stared at Tracy. "What are you saying? Was she... hurt? Raped?" He said the last word as if he were praying that it wasn't true.

"No. It would be her first time."

Jack's mouth opened. "Come on."

"It's true."

"I don't believe it."

Tracy turned her palms up slowly. "I was surprised, too."

"But she's a lawyer!"

Tracy made an exasperated gesture. "Do you think there's some s.e.xual initiation that comes along with a bar a.s.sociation card?"

"No, but she's so competent and professional..."

"She's good at her job. Maybe too good, maybe that's why she's neglected other areas of development, in a manner of speaking."

"And she's so pretty," he murmured, as if to himself.

"That has nothing to do with it. The most promiscuous girl in my high school cla.s.s was also the least attractive. What kind of thinking is that? How old are you, twelve?"

The sarcasm was lost on Jack, who was still sitting in the same position, as if stunned.

"Thinking about changing your tactics?" Tracy asked dryly.

He exhaled heavily. "I guess I'd better do just that."

"Wise choice," Tracy said, shoving back her chair. Jack rose in response. "Now don't let on that I told you this or I warn you, I will be very close to death," Tracy added.

"Not a word."

Tracy made a fist. "Good luck."

Jack smiled charmingly, and Tracy wondered briefly why she was taking all this trouble to hand Jack to Marisa when she might have been going after him herself. Then she remembered. Friends.h.i.+p. That's what it was.

Tracy walked out of the dining room, pausing to pick up her check, as Jack sank back into his chair, his expression thoughtful.

When Marisa came downstairs the next morning on her way to Judge Lasky's chambers she found Jack sitting in the lobby sipping a cup of coffee. She tried to sail past him but he jumped up and blocked her path.

"Please let me go. I'm late," she said frostily.

"Five minutes," Jack said.

Marisa kept moving.

"Two minutes."

She wavered.

"One minute."

"Oh, all right." As she sat in the chair across from the one he had occupied she noticed the stack of folded newspapers and the paper napkin littered with crumbs.

"How long have you been sitting here?" she asked.

"A while."

Marisa looked at him.

"I thought if I came up to your room you would throw a fit, so I chose neutral ground."

She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm waiting," she said.

Jack took a deep breath as Marisa concentrated on not staring at the breadth of his shoulders in the thin crewneck sweater or the muscular thighs revealed by his tight jeans. She wound up looking stupidly at the floor.

"Hey," he said gently. "I'm up here."

She raised her eyes to his face.

"That's better." He licked his lips, which made her look away again.

"Court doesn't resume until next week," he said, "and I wondered if in the meantime you would let me take you to dinner."

Marisa shook her head in wonderment.

"Don't look like that, I promise to behave," he said.

"You know it's a bad idea."

"Why?"

"Well, how have we been getting along so far?" she asked rhetorically.

"We got along great when I slept overnight in your room," he said softly.

"That was simply an accident. I won't put myself in that situation again."

"Look, I'm talking about dinner, that's all. You have my word that I will not barge into any rest rooms and will refrain in general from making a nuisance of myself."

She smiled thinly.

"That's better. What do you say?"

Marisa hesitated. She had vowed never to fall for his blandishments again, but how could she resist him as he sat there wearing the half smile that melted her so effectively? He was winning, and he knew it.

"All right," she said.

He stood triumphantly. "Eight o'clock tomorrow night. A friend of mine has a boat I can borrow, we can take a sunset cruise up the inland waterway to a restaurant I know on the water. Can you swim?"

"Yes. Will I have to?"

He grinned. "Let's hope not, but it's best to make sure first."

"Is it a fancy place?"

He shrugged.

Marisa gazed at him in exasperation. She had never known a man who could answer that question. "Is a jacket required for men?"

He nodded.

"Okay, that tells me what I need to know,"

"I'll meet you here in the lobby at eight. All right?"

"Fine."

He smiled at her one last time and then strode purposefully across the hotel's Oriental carpet, a man who had achieved his goal.

"If a jacket is required for men it's a pretty fancy place," Tracy said, shoving hangers to the right and left along the rack. "Get something with a little zip." She selected an azure blue c.o.c.ktail dress with rhinestone straps and held it up for Marisa to see.

"That's entirely too much zip for me," Marisa said.

They were in the hotel boutique looking for an outfit for Marisa's date with Jack. She had brought along only professional clothes and had nothing to wear. Or at least that's what Tracy was insisting.

"I could always wear my gray silk suit," Marisa suggested. "With a fancier blouse it would be all right."

"You don't want to look 'all right,' you want to look smas.h.i.+ng. Besides, gray is for nuns. How about this?" She held up a coral chemise with a side slit and a deep v neck.

"No, thanks." Marisa pulled out a navy featherweight wool with a white satin bib and satin cuffs. "Look, this has satin on it, is that fancy enough for you?"

"Are you giving the eighth grade commencement speech?" Tracy asked, surveying the garment with distaste.

"I'm trying it on," Marisa said stubbornly.

"Fine. Take this too." Tracy handed her a pale blue silk dress with a fitted waist and a tulip hem. The only decoration was a dusting of seed pearls on the shoulders. It was simple but elegant.

"That's pretty," Marisa conceded.

"Thank G.o.d," Tracy said fervently.