Anything You Can Do(57)
"Would you look at the time? I'd better get to bed."
She scooped Samantha into her arms.
Paula's laughter followed her even after she closed her bedroom door. Let her laugh, Bailey decided. She'd laugh even louder—not to mention smirk—if she knew the whole story.
Bailey felt incredibly foolish about the way she'd acted. The events of the evening would certainly not go down as a point on her side of the tally sheet. She'd made a perfect idiot of herself. And the really awful thing was, she'd loved every minute of it, had been able to turn loose of her inhibitions and become thoroughly immersed in the erotic overtures she was giving as well as receiving. Worse yet, a part of her regretted her sudden departure, wished Austin hadn't called her by name, that he'd gone on holding her all night, that they could have gone to his apartment and made love again.
*~*~*
Even though it was Saturday, when Gordon hadn't shown up at the office by noon the next day, Bailey started to get worried. When she arrived home and opened the door, however, she was not so distracted that she failed to notice the huge lavender teddy bear occupying an armchair, apparently watching television. Samantha's shaggy head peeped over one of the stuffed legs. Her tail appeared in the air, waving furiously, but she seemed disinclined to leave her comfortable nest.
"Do come in, if you can find room," Paula invited, switching off the television and turning her head to peer over the back of the sofa. "This—" she swept an arm around the room— "has been going on since ten-thirty when the candy arrived."
A large, golden box of Godiva chocolates sat on the coffee table along with a porcelain music box featuring a little boy holding his hat in his hands, eyes pitifully downcast, a jigsaw puzzle with a castle in the clouds beneath a rainbow, and a basket of sloppily dyed Easter eggs, each with one wax letter, together spelling out, "I'm sory."
"What a lousy speller," Bailey observed.
"I ate the other ‘r’ for breakfast," Paula explained. "Help yourself if you're hungry."
"You have the soul of a Mongol." Bailey sank to the floor in front of the teddy bear and scratched Samantha's ears. "So the prince is charming again and all's right with the world."
Paula leaned over, removed the lid from the chocolates, and selected a piece from the half-empty top layer. "Help yourself," she invited. "If eating them won't offend your soul."
"Well, it's not quite like eating the Easter eggs."
Bailey took a couple of the rich candies.
Paula licked her lips and her fingers. "The jerk has good taste, but no, he isn't charming, and all isn't right with the world. I assume your friend has been sending these things—" she spread her arms— "but I haven't heard a word of explanation or apology."
"Don't forget the eggs," Bailey pointed out. "That was an apology before you ate part of it."
"Not counting the stupid, motley eggs."
The doorbell rang.
"Can you think of anything he's forgotten?" Paula asked.
Bailey shrugged. "Want me to get it?"
"Nah. The delivery boy and I are becoming good friends. I think he's just about ready to ask me to his prom. "
Bailey didn't see anyone when Paula opened the door, but she heard Paula say, "This isn't funny," then burst into contradictory laughter.
Standing to get a better view, Bailey could see Gordon's golden head as he knelt just outside the door. "I fell asleep," he said, rising and offering Paula a paper crown from a fast-food chain balanced on one of his sofa pillows. "I was just going to catch a quick catnap. When I woke up, it was nine o'clock. I started to call you to apologize for being late and noticed the phone lying on my pillow. I guess it rang and I took it off the hook without waking up then just snored into the receiver. Anyway, then I realized the sun was shining in my bedroom window, and even with daylight saving time, the sun doesn't shine at nine in the evening. I knew I was in trouble."
Paula motioned him inside and closed the door. "Bailey's neighbors don't need to know she associates with madmen," she explained, crossing her arms and looking defiantly up at him.
"Tell her how exhausted I've been, how I've been working myself to a frazzle," he appealed to Bailey.
"He's definitely frazzled," Bailey agreed, trying to stifle her own laughter.