Araminta didn’t know how long she danced before she decided she needed a break. She was sweating up a storm, her dress sticking to her skin. Not good considering she’d agreed to meet Rick for a drink when he got off work.
She was already having second thoughts about that. Maybe she should cancel. After all, she didn’t know him and had no plans of sleeping with him.
Last night’s dream popped into her head once again. That didn’t count as a one-night stand as it was only a dream. But she feared that she would probably measure every man she ever met against the one from her dream. Rick, who was indeed a hottie, wasn’t as attractive to her as her dream man, which was sad considering one was very real and the other nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
“Get a grip,” she whispered under her breath. “Nothing has to happen that you don’t want to. It’s only a drink. Go and enjoy yourself.” She worked her way out of the room and into the relative quiet of the hallway. The ladies’ room was just down the hall so she made her way there. Two other women were leaving just as she went in. They smiled and held the door for her.
She took one look at herself in the mirror and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her skin was moist with perspiration and several locks of hair had come loose from her bun. She grabbed some paper towels, wet them and rubbed them over her skin, dipping beneath the bodice of the dress to her armpits. She used several more before deciding she was as fresh as she was going to get without going to her room for a shower.
Her hair was easy to take care of. She’d done it so many times she could style it in the dark if she had to. She let it down, finger-combed it and bundled it back up again, poking pins in strategically. When she was done, she looked almost like herself again.
Her cheeks were still rosy and her eyes seemed wider than usual. It was the smile on her face that was most unusual. She was really enjoying herself.
She used the facilities, washed her hands and started to head back to the party. She’d meet Rick for a drink. After all, why should she turn down an offer like that from a good-looking man? She was single and could do whatever she wanted. It was time to start living more in the real world and not only the ones she created in her mind.
She heard male voices just as she opened the door. For some reason, she paused with the door barely cracked. She immediately recognized one of the speakers. It was Rick, the bartender. She leaned in and pressed her eye to the slight opening. She could just see the two men standing outside the men’s room next door.
“I’m telling you, man. Go for the slightly overweight ones. Most of them don’t have boyfriends or husbands, and they have low expectations. They’re the most desperate. You can get laid easy. Probably two or three times.”
“I don’t know, Rick,” the other man replied.
Rick snorted. “What’s to know? You want to get laid tonight or what? Spread some charm around and smile. They’ll fall into your palm like apples falling from a tree.”
The other man laughed. “Maybe I’ll give it a try.”
Rick slapped him on the back. “You should. I’ve already got three lined up for tonight.”
They sauntered back to the ballroom, but Araminta remained where she was, frozen by Rick’s cruel words. Desperate. Overweight. Easy. Hurt shot through her and she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. She’d wanted to believe tonight was different. That she was different.
She might feel like Cinderella at the ball, but she wasn’t a princess, nor did she have a fairy godmother. She was plain, ordinary Araminta.
On the heels of hurt came anger. Sharp, powerful anger. It shoved aside the pangs of hurt and filled her with indignation. How dare he? Who did he think he was anyway?
She pulled open the door and strode out into the hallway. She ought to head back to the party and confront him, but she wouldn’t. Professional pride stopped her. This weekend was too important for her career for her to risk it over a guy with an inflated sense of himself.
It was time to call it a night. Time to get ready to return to reality. She’d go back to her room and pack her things. She planned to head out first thing in the morning after the final breakfast get-together.
Decision made, she headed down the hallway toward the elevators. The muted sounds of laughter, voices and music echoed from the still-hopping ballroom. She ignored it and hurried past, not wanting to run into anyone. The corridors were surprisingly empty considering the crowd that was here for the convention.
One of the doors to another ballroom stood open on her left and she hesitated as she passed by. The sign outside said AUCTION in bold letters. The information beneath it said the sale was taking place tomorrow afternoon and they would be selling off the remains of an old-time carnival. Curious as to what was being auctioned off, she took a peek inside.
At first glance, the room seemed empty, other than what appeared to be a ticket booth with chipped and faded paint off to her left. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed a light was on in the far corner of the ballroom. She took a few hesitant steps before her feet faltered and she came to a halt. She blinked, certain she couldn’t be seeing what she thought she was.
In the corner of the room, beneath the light was the carousel from her dream.
But that was impossible. It was only a dream, a figment of her imagination. It wasn’t real. Maybe she’d passed the open door yesterday and caught a quick glimpse of the carousel. She might not remember seeing it, but her subconscious would. That made perfect sense and explained her dream.
She took a step back toward the doorway and stopped, chewing on her bottom lip. She really should head to her room, shower and pack. But the carousel beckoned, pulling at her as if with invisible threads.
“One minute,” she promised herself. She tiptoed into the room and glanced around to make certain no one else was here. Heavy tarps were piled in one corner covering other pieces of equipment, but she was definitely alone.
She thought about closing the door but decided against it. She wasn’t staying long and she didn’t want to shut herself into the room by herself. There was something about the entire thing that was giving her the shivers. This was like something out of a horror movie—woman leaves safety of party to explore by herself and ends up being killed by a psycho serial killer.
“Get a grip.” She’d definitely done too much reading about demons and curses for her new series. It was turning her into one of those women afraid of her own shadow. She wasn’t having it.
The warning the fortuneteller had given her earlier this evening went through her head. Beware. Danger. Things aren’t what they seem. Maybe Sabrina Wolfe was the real deal. Maybe she was right.
“Don’t think about it.”
A carnival sign was propped up against one wall. It was meant to be lit, enticing men, women and children to come and play and spend their money for a few hours of fun. But was currently dark. Still, she could read the words. “Shade’s Carnival.” Must be the name of the carnival the carousel had come from.
She’d decided against using Hades’ Carnival or the Devil’s Carnival in her book. Too obvious. She’d settled on Black’s Carnival, naming it after her new agent during the rewrites of the first book before it was published. Too bad she hadn’t thought about the name Shade’s Carnival. It was close to Hades. Would have been cool to have several of the lights go out when one of the heroines saw the sign. But it was too late to change now, and she was happy with the name she’d chosen for her fictional carnival.