The upstairs balcony was strung with fairy lights. They twinkled around a cafe table adorned with simple cutlery, tea-light candles, and a single rose. In the center of the table was a large champagne bottle submerged in ice.
Lucy had been expecting to find a loaf of bread, a toaster, and a grim-faced companion sitting at a chipped formica table - not this fanfare.
Seeing her reflection in the ranch slider she gasped in horror. The white dress she was delivered from reception (after ringing to see if there was any way she could put her freshly hand washed washed jersey dress in a drier), had been a reasonable length. But, as was a common occurrence when clothing came in contact with her long bronzed legs, it had shrunk terribly.
She was sure she could almost see her black lacy undies. Who knew how many guests had suffered from heart murmurs after seeing her make her way upstairs in this? Or how many casual spectators had played peek-a-boo with her underwear? No wonder the poor bag boy - sent to accompany her from her room to dinner - was a stammering wreck.
Lucy wasn't the kind of girl who liked to torture herself by affixing a mirror to her wall. She had a rear vision mirror which was the perfect size to check for peanut skins in her teeth and for picking the sleep from her eyes.
While her hotel room had been full of mirrors, she'd spent the first half hour in a huge claw-footed tub. The rest of the time had been spent rolling her locs back into shape after the warm soapy water had expanded them to the size of cuban cigars.
Now, she stood awkwardly at the ranch door for a few moments tugging optimistically at her hem. Lucy was forced to accept that there was no way she could magically lengthen her slutty skirt. She would have to choose quickly: dash out and plant her backside down on a cafe seat (before Daniello saw her undies speed past), or race back to her room and wait till her dress returned. Deciding on the second option, Lucy was turning to race away when he stepped into view.
"Hey." He gazed at her.
Lucy felt her heartbeat skid to a stop. Was that look one of admiration?
His gaze devoured her thighs.
"I didn't realize we would be eating outside... I'm just going to grab some more clothes."
"Please don't." His gaze roamed, skimming over her bare arms and her hemline, causing her heart beat to rocket. "I had a gas fire installed. You'll be quite cozy."
Cozy? She'd feel more at home on a raft made of twigs in shark-infested waters. At least she'd know what to expect from any toothy assailants, unlike this one. She eyed Daniello warily. One moment he was piling on the mascara like nobody's business, the next he was looking at her like he wanted to cop a feel.
There was no way she could leave now without giving him a front row view of every pucker of cellulite on her backside. The only way to go was forward. A blush crept over her cheeks as she scurried across the room and planted her bottom in the seat.
"I had one of the girls from reception bring this up." Daniello held out a sand-colored cape. "I realized you might be underdressed."
Under-dressed? She blushed furiously. He already knew she'd wear something slutty? What did he think of her?
She went to pull it over her head, but Daniello carried on speaking.
"It is a blend of possum wool, I believe."
"People cut possums' hair?"
"No, I'm told they put the dead carcasses through a machine and it plucks the fur from their bodies."
Lucy's stomach heaved. No way would she wear something like that! She went to tear it off and gasped. "My god! This thing feels like... like it cost more than five dollars!" She guiltily rubbed her hands over the fabric. Could she allow herself to wear something so barbaric to prevent pneumonia? Lucy dragged the cape over her head in answer. "I didn't realize when you invited me that it was a..." She gestured helplessly, "...romantic meal. I would have-"
Dressed accordingly? Turned him down? Lucy couldn't decide.
"It isn't anything like that," Daniello replied curtly. The chemistry crackling through the air disappeared, leaving Lucy wondering if she'd imagined it.
"Oh. You feel sorry for me?" Lucy steeled herself for his response. She couldn't imagine why a man like Daniello would bother helping a woman like her. Of course, she knew that men liked to have sex with a large selection of women... yet there were easier and less chancy ways of getting into a woman's pants. Going to a bar and replenishing a woman's drink steadily was always a good option.
On second thoughts, Lucy couldn't imagine a man like Detective Daniello getting a woman drunk in order to bed her.
She could, however, visualize him beating his hairless chest (possibly waxed - so no one spotted his stubble when he wore one of those little drag queen numbers) while bellowing, "Me Tarzan – you Jane."
After a guarded pause he spoke carefully, "I need your help... for work."
"Work?" Lucy glanced at him. She couldn't decide whether she felt relieved or deflated knowing he wasn't planning to seduce her over a candle lit dessert. "How so?"
"Well... it's hard to explain but I need... inspiration." His voice drifted off as searched for the words to articulate his thoughts. As he pondered his eyes darted about their surroundings, returning frequently to the railings of the balcony.
"Oh, I see!" Lucy noted that the balcony was overhanging the front entrance of the manor. "You are on surveillance. You want my help to blend in... and my ideas to help you catch the assailant."
"Exactly," he said reservedly.
"Like a pretend date."
"Uh huh."
"I can do that... it is the least I can do for you after you helped me out down stairs." First task at hand, Lucy decided, was to try and act normal. "Do we have anything I can hide behind?"
"You won't need to hide," he told her hurriedly. "Just act normal."
She snorted with laughter. "You'll probably regret telling me that."
Daniello smiled. "I've taken the liberty of ordering for you."
"Oh! You remembered that I wanted toast."
"Err, well..." He was flummoxed. "I ordered a selection of cheeses and some sweet bread."
"Well, I guess sweet bread is like toast."
"Not really..."
"I have to be honest with you, I'm not a huge fan of cinnamon. My father used to make this poached apple dessert which he stuffed with cinnamon and raisins but he was convinced sugar would rot our teeth out. So, to counteract it, he would add a cup full of chopped raw dandelion." Lucy's stomach churned at the memory of it. "Whenever I see raisin and cinnamon bread I remember it. Hopefully they don't add dandelions."
"You are thinking of fruit bread," Daniello said. "Sweet bread is something else entirely. It is located near the cow's thyroid." He paused for a moment before lunging into a small lesson. "It is the thymus-."
"Near the cow's thyroid?" Lucy blanched considerably. "Is it cow cud?"
"No."
"So 'sweet bread' doesn't contain carbohydrates or vegetables?"
"Not really."
"Oh. Well..."
"Are you a vegetarian?"
"I am a pescatarian."
He smiled coolly. "A pesky tarian. At least you have a good sense of humor about it."
"No." Awkward! "Um... pesca-tarian. It means that I don't eat red meat or chicken. The only flesh I consume is fish."
Lucy watched as Detective Daniello's well-manicured facade slipped. "Excuse me."
He left the table hurriedly and went inside to talk to some kind of shadowy butler. Lucy let out a whistle. These police departments put a lot of money into finding bad guys!
He came back to the table and smiled at her, reaching out he swept a dreadlock off her cheek. His fingers teased her skin.
Her heart flipped. How he could send her body into a state of shock from his mere touch was beyond Lucy. It was a pity the man had taken a liking to detective work. He could make a killing from this oozing chemistry of his!
If he studied for a gynecology license he could single-handedly eradicate cervical cancer in an entire region. Every woman in town would flock to see him in the hope that he would turn an awkward concern into a huge adrenaline rush. Like bungee jumping for the vagina.
A flush burned its way up her neck. Grabbing her flute of champagne, she took a deep swig. He really was the most nerve-racking male she'd ever shared a table with.
"Being a waitor must be a terrible job," Lucy said, trying to lighten the mood. "Having to memorize all of our names. How heinous! I would be fired after twenty minutes."
Daniello's face softened. "I have a terrible memory too. Sometimes I forget the names of my co-workers."
"That is terrible! You must only have a handful!"
"You would be surprised."
"Tell me more about being a detective," Lucy leaned across the table with her chin on her hands. "I'm intrigued." She was interested in getting to know the soft and witty man he was allowing her glimpses of.
"What can I say? Detectives eat a lot of doughnuts and follow people around. It is a tough job." He spread his hands on the table. She was entranced by them. While masculine and tanned, they had the finesse that one might need to wield musical instruments. She wondered what they would feel like on her.
"And the case you are working on?" She tore her eyes away from his hands. "What can you divulge about that?"
"You know ... one of these repeat offenders. Drinks too much, drives under the influence, uses his car as a weapon." After a long pause, he said, "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
"There isn't much to say."
"You are a woman," he said endearingly. "A woman doesn't need anything to say to have a conversation."
Lucy shifted uncomfortably. "Well... that was a sweeping generalization."
He looked ashamed. "Bad humor. I grew up with six sisters. No one would notice if I didn't talk for the entire day thanks to the amount of babble in our house. I was a delayed speaker."
"Six siblings!" Lucy shuddered. "How awful." One sibling was nearly too much for Lucy. He was always trying to push her parents' buttons making their quiet lives fraught with tension. As a child she'd never know what Krishna would do next, beg their parents to enroll him into a school? Ask to learn the violin?
"There were some perks. I grew up watching them and their dysfunctional relationships and figured out how to become the most eligible bachelor in the playground. I must sound like a bit of a prick, but I've never had any problems with women since."
"Oh. And what is the perfect partner, according to your six sisters?"
"Listen a lot, groom excessively-" he checked them off on his fingers like a grocery list. "And have well-padded pockets."
"Well-padded pockets." Lucy laughed. "What? Did you use one of those penis pumps that you see in magazines?"
An alarmed look marred his beautiful face. "No!"
"Because I've always wondered about them. Why do you think they are made of clear plastic? Why would anyone want to see what was happening inside? Do you think it's in case something gets jammed?"
"I can't answer that. What I meant was pockets padded with money."
"Oh. Money." Lucy screwed her nose up. The appearance of the waiter laden down with food put a stop to any further thoughts on the topic. Taking a bite of fresh toast covered with caviar, Lucy spluttered, "This is delicious." Glancing up she noticed she was the recipient of intense observation.
Lucy looked at Daniello in shock. What on earth is wrong with this man? Does he have serious psychological issues? Even after noticing that he'd been caught out, his gaze didn't waver. Instead it slipped down to her chest, where she was suddenly worried a bosom might have slipped out of place. Her stomach knotted up. With all this tension even her stomach was going to turn into a dreadlock.
She gave her head a mental thump. Right! He's staring at me like that because the criminal has arrived. Leaning her head over the balcony she spotted two men exiting a car. They approached each other in front of the bonnet of the vehicle.
"You are such a brave woman," Daniello said. "You don't wear any make-up."
"I wear beeswax on my lips. Does that constitute as make-up?"
Turning back to him she noticed his gaze on her mouth. He seemed to lose focus. "In my industry it isn't often you catch a woman without her war paint on."
"Is that a self-defense thing? Are murderers scared of well-dressed female detectives?"
"What?" He glanced up at her and his eyes fogged over with some kind of emotion. Lust? Longing?
His acting really was superb! "I'll keep note of that. Wouldn't want to end up in one of your body bags."
"About that, Lucy. I need to tell you the truth."