Guilty Pleasures   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

Pretty dresses for the bridesmaids, don't you think?”

Actually, the last thing I wanted to spend a hundred and twenty dollars on was a long pink formal with puffy sleeves, but it was Catherine's wedding. “What about the bachelorette party?”

'Oh. I'm rambling, aren't I? And you just desperate for sleep.”

I wondered if screaming at her would make her go away any her. Naw, she'd probably cry. “What do you want, please, Monica?”

“Well, I know it's short notice, but everything just sort of slipped up on me. I meant to call you a week ago, but I just never got around to it.”

This I believed “Go on.”

“The bachelorette party is tonight. Catherine says you don't drink so I was wondering if you could be designated driver.”

I just lay there for a minute, wondering how mad to get, and if it would do me any good. Maybe if I'd been more awake, I wouldn't have said what I was thinking. “Don't you think this is awfully short notice, since you want me to drive?”

“I know. I'm so sorry. I'm just so scattered lately. Catherine told me you usually have either Friday or Saturday night off. Is Friday not your night off this week?”

As a matter of fact it was, but I didn't really want to give up my only night off to this airhead on the other end of the phone. “I do have the night off.”

“Great! I'll give you directions, and you can pick us up after work. Is that okay?”

It wasn't, but what else could I say. “That's fine.”

“Pencil and paper?”

“You said you worked with Catherine, right?” I was actually beginning to remember Monica.

“Why, yes.”

“I know where Catherine works. I don't need directions.”

“Oh, how silly of me, of course. Then we'll see you about five. Dress up, but no heels. We may be dancing tonight.”

I hate to dance. “Sure, see you then.”

“See you tonight.”

The phone went dead in my ear. I turned on the answering machine and cuddled back under the sheets. Monica worked with Catherine, that made her a lawyer. That was a frightening thought. Maybe she was one of those people who was only organized at work. Naw.

It occurred to me then, when it was too late, that I could just have refused the invitation. Damn. I was quick today. Oh, well, how bad could it be? Watching strangers get blitzed out of their minds. If I was lucky, maybe someone would throw up in my car.

I had the strangest dreams once I got back to sleep. All about this woman I didn't know, a coconut cream pie, and Willie McCoy's funeral.



3

Monica Vespucci was wearing a button that said, “Vampires are People, too.” It was not a promising beginning to the evening. Her white blouse was silk with a high, flared collar framing a dark, health-club tan. Her hair was short and expertly cut, her makeup perfect.

The button should have tipped me off to what kind of bachelorette party she'd planned. Some days I'm just slow to catch on.

I was wearing black jeans, knee-high boots, and a crimson blouse. My hair was made to order for the outfit, black curling just over the shoulders of the red blouse. The solid, nearly black-brown of my eyes matches the hair. Only the skin stands out, too pale, Germanic against the Latin darkness. A very exboyfriend once described me as a little china doll. He meant it as a compliment. I didn't take it that way. There are reasons why I don't date much.

The blouse was long-sleeved to hide the knife sheath on my right wrist and the scars on my left arm. I had left my gun locked in the trunk of my car. I didn't think the bachelorette party would get that out of hand.

“I'm so sorry that I put off planning this to the last minute, Catherine. That's why there's only three of us. Everybody else had plans,” Monica said.

“Imagine that, people having plans for Friday night,” I said.

Monica stared at me as if trying to decide whether I was joking or not.

Catherine gave me a warning glare. I gave them both my best angelic smile. Monica smiled back. Catherine wasn't fooled.

Monica began dancing down the sidewalk, happy as a drunken clam. She had had only two drinks with dinner. It was a bad sign.

“Be nice,” Catherine whispered.

“What did I say?”

“Anita.” Her voice sounded like my father's used to sound when I'd stayed out too late.

I sighed. “You're just no fun tonight.”

“I plan to be a lot of fun tonight.” She stretched her arms skyward. She still wore the crumpled remains of her business suit. The wind blew her long, copper-colored hair. I've never been able to decide if Catherine would be prettier if she cut her hair, so you'd notice the face first, or if the hair was what made her pretty.

“If I have to give up one of my few free nights, then I am going to enjoy myself-immensely,” she said.

There was a kind of fierceness to the last word. I stared up at her. “You are not planning to get falling-down drunk, are you?”

“Maybe.” She looked smug.

Catherine knew I didn't approve of, or rather, didn't understand drinking. I didn't like having my inhibitions lowered. If I was going to cut loose, I wanted to be in control of just how loose I got.

We had left my car in a parking lot two blocks back. The one with the wrought-iron fence around it. There wasn't much parking down by the river. The narrow brick roads and ancient sidewalks had been designed for horses, not automobiles. The streets had been fresh-washed by a summer thunderstorm that had come and gone while we ate dinner. The first stars glittered overhead, like diamonds trapped in velvet.

Monica yelled, “Hurry up, slowpokes.”

Catherine looked at me and grinned. The next thing I knew, she was running towards Monica.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” I muttered. Maybe if I'd had drinks with dinner, I'd have run, too, but I doubted it.

“Don't be an old stick in the mud,” Catherine called back.

Stick in the mud? I caught up to them walking. Monica was giggling. Somehow I had known she would be. Catherine and she were leaning against each other laughing. I suspected they might be laughing at me.

Monica calmed enough to fake an ominous stage whisper. “Do you know what lies around this corner?”

As a matter of fact, I did. The last vampire killing had been only four blocks from here. We were in what the vampires called “the District.” Humans called it the Riverfront, or Blood Square, depending on if they were being rude or not.

“Guilty Pleasures,” I said.

“Oh, pooh, you spoiled the surprise.”

“What's Guilty Pleasures?” Catherine asked.

Monica giggled. “Oh, goodie, the surprise isn't spoiled after all.” She put her arm through Catherine's. “You are going to love this, I promise you.