But Vicky wasn't worried tonight. Mommy was out with Aunt Nellie and Aunt Nellie would take care of her. Worry wasn't keeping her awake.
It was the chocolates.
Vicky could not get those chocolates out of her mind. She had never seen a box like that—black with gold trim and a big red rose on the top. All the way from England. And the name: Black Magic! The name alone was enough to keep her awake.
She had to see them. It was as simple as that. She had to go down there and look in that box and see the "Dark Assortment" promised on the lid.
With Ms. Jelliroll tucked securely under her arm, she crawled out of bed and headed for the stairs. Down to the second floor landing without a sound, and then down to the first. The slate floor of the foyer was cool under her feet. Down the hall came voices and music and flickery light from where Eunice was watching television in the library. Vicky tiptoed across the foyer to the front parlor where she had seen Aunt Nellie put the box of chocolates.
She found it on an endtable. The cellophane was off. Vicky placed Ms. Jelliroll on the little couch, seated herself beside her, then pulled the Black Magic box onto her lap. She started to lift the lid, then stopped.
Mommy would have a fit if she came in now and found her sitting here. Bad enough that she was out of bed, but to have Aunt Nellie's chocolates, too!
Vicky felt no guilt, however. In a way, this box should be hers, even if she was allergic to chocolate. It was from her father, after all. She had hoped that when Mommy stopped home today she would find a package there just for her. But no. Nothing from Daddy.
Vicky ran her fingers over the rose on the lid. Pretty. Why couldn't this be hers? Maybe after Aunt Nellie finished the chocolates she'd let Vicky keep the box.
How many are left?
She lifted the lid. The rich, heavy smell of dark chocolate enveloped her, and with it the subtler odors of all the different fillings. And another smell, hiding just underneath the others, a smell she wasn't quite sure of. But that was of little concern. The chocolate overpowered everything else. Saliva poured into her mouth. She wanted one. Oh, how she wanted just one bite.
She tilted the box to better see the contents in the light from the foyer. No empty slots! None of the chocolates were missing! At this rate it would take forever before she got the empty box. But the box was really of secondary interest now. It was the chocolate she hungered for.
She picked up a piece from the middle, wondering what was inside. It was cool to the touch but within seconds the chocolate coating became soft. Jack had taught her how to poke her thumb into the bottom to see what color the middle was. But what if it was a liquid center? She had thumb-poked a chocolate-covered cherry once and wound up with a sticky mess all over her lap. No thumb-poking tonight.
She held it to her nose. It didn't smell quite so good up close. Maybe it had something yucky inside, like raspberry goo or some such awful stuff. One bite wouldn't hurt. Maybe just a nibble from the outer layer. That way she wouldn't have to worry about what was inside. And maybe no one would notice.
No.
Vicky put the piece back. She remembered the last time she had sneaked a nibble of chocolate—her face swelled up like a big red balloon and her eyelids got so puffy all the kids at school had said she looked Chinese. Maybe no one would notice the nibble she took, but Mommy would sure notice her blown-up face. She took one last, longing look at the rows of dark lumps, then replaced the lid and put the box back on the table.
With Ms. Jelliroll under her arm again, she walked back to the bottom of the stairs and stood there looking up. It was dark up there. And she was scared. But she couldn't stay down here all night. Slowly she started up, carefully watching the dark at the top. When she reached the second floor landing she clung to the newel post and peered around. Nothing moved. With her heart beating wildly, she broke into a scampering run around to the second flight and didn't slow until she had reached the third floor, jumped into her bed, and pulled the sheet over her head.
10
"Working hard, I see." Jack whirled at the sound of the voice, nearly spilling the two glasses of champagne he had just lifted from the tray of a passing waiter.
"Gia!" She was the last person he expected to see here. And the last person he wanted to see. He felt he should be out looking for Grace instead of hobnobbing with the diplomats. But he swallowed his guilt, smiled, and tried to say something brilliant. "Fancy meeting you here."
"I'm here with Nellie."
"Oh. That explains it."
He stood there looking at her, wanting to reach out his hand and have her take it the way she used to, knowing she'd only turn away if he did. He noticed a half-empty champagne glass in her hand and a glittery look in her eyes. He wondered how many she had had. She never was much of a drinker.
"So, what've you been doing with yourself?" she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.
Yes—definitely too much to drink. Her voice was slightly slurred.
"Shoot anybody lately?"
Oh, swell. Here we go.
He answered in a quiet, soothing voice. He wasn't looking for an argument. "Reading a lot—"
"What? The Executioner series for the fourteenth time?"
"—and watching movies."
"A Dirty Harry festival, I suppose." 'You look great," he said, refusing to let her irk him as he tried to turn the talk toward Gia. He wasn't lying. She filled her dress nicely, and the pinkish color, whatever it was, seemed made for her blond hair and blue eyes.
"You're not doing so bad yourself."
"It's my Fred Astaire suit. Always wanted to wear one of these. Like it?"
Gia nodded. "Is it as uncomfortable as it looks?"
"More so. Don't know how anyone ever tap danced in one of these. Collar's choking me."
"It's not your style, anyway."
"You're right." Jack preferred to be unobtrusive. He was happiest when he could walk past with no one noticing. "But something got into me tonight. Couldn't pass up the chance to be Fred Astaire just once."
"You don't dance and your date will never be mistaken for Ginger Rogers."
"I can dream, can't I?"
"Who is she?"
Jack studied Gia closely. Could there be just a trace of jealousy there? Was that possible?
"She's…" He looked around the room until he spotted Kusum. "… that man's sister."
"Is she the 'personal matter' you helped him out with?"
"Oh?" he said with a slow smile. "You've been asking about me?"
Gia's eyes shifted away. "Burkes brought your name up. Not me."
"You know something, Gia?" Jack said, knowing he shouldn't but helpless to resist. "You're beautiful when you're jealous."
Her eyes flashed and her cheeks turned red. "Don't be absurd!" She turned and walked away.
Typical, Jack thought. She wanted nothing to do with him but didn't want to see him with anybody else.
He looked around for Kolabati—not a typical woman by any standard—and found her standing beside her brother, who seemed to be doing his best to pretend she wasn't there.
As he walked toward the silent pair, Jack marveled at the way Kolabati's dress clung to her. It was made of a gauzy, dazzlingly white fabric that came across her right shoulder and wrapped itself around her breasts like a bandage. Her left shoulder was completely bare, exposing her dark, flawless skin for all to admire. And there were many admirers.
"Hello, Mr. Bahkti," he said as he handed Kolabati her glass.
Kusum glanced at the champagne, at Kolabati, then turned an icy smile on Jack.