Alexi closed the menu. “You know the place, Mr. Morrow."
He lifted her wineglass and handed it to her. “I wonder if you'll mellow out with age."
The way he said it, she had to laugh. She sipped the wine and found it delicious. And suddenly the whole evening seemed wonderful. The muted light, the soft Oriental music, the plush cushion beneath her...the man beside her. She felt as if one sip of the wine had given her senses greater power; she could hear more keenly, see more clearly and inhale and feel his scent sweep into her. She could have swirled around very easily, laid her head in his lap, closed her eyes--and luxuriated in the feel of it all.
"Who knows you're in Gene's house?" he asked.
"What?" Alexi shook her head to clear it. Rex was serious and intent; his eyes were brooding.
"Who knows you're here?"
She shrugged. "Gene. My agent. My family."
"Anyone else?"
"No--no, I don't think so. I wanted--I wanted to be alone for a while." Alexi hesitated, wondering. "Why?"
He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I was just curious, I suppose."
Alexi studied him. "You're lying to me. Why?"
He shrugged again, looking toward the doorway. Alexi followed his gaze and saw that their pretty hostess was returning again with another woman and half a dozen small chafing dishes.
The woman opened the dishes to describe the food, then closed them again to maintain the heat. Rex thanked them both, but when they had gone, he still seemed to hesitate.
"Rex!"
"What?"
"Why? Why did you ask me that?"
He didn't answer her. Alexi saw that he was still frowning as he stared at the thin screen that separated their little room from the hallway.
"Rex...?"
He didn't look at her, but he pressed his finger to her lips and indicated the screen. He silently began to rise.
Alexi thought he had lost his mind. But then she saw it; the shadow of a figure standing in the hallway. There was something secretive about the shadow--someone had been listening to them.
Alexi didn't know that she was gasping until Rex swore softly at her, then bounded over the table like a talented linebacker and raced toward the door.
But the shadow, too, had obviously heard her gasp.
It straightened and disappeared just seconds before Rex went racing out after it.
Chapter 7
Rex didn't return. Confused, Alexi waited for several moments, then rose and hurried out to the hall. There was no sign of any shadow man, nor of Rex. As Alexi stood in the hallway, a group of slightly inebriated businessmen made an appearance from a room farther down the corridor. It was a narrow hallway, and Alexi stepped inside again to allow them to pass.
A short, stout man named Harold was telling a tall, lean, bald man he called Bert that now was the time to dump his electrical stock. And while he was at it, Bert should dump his wife, too.
They passed Alexi, and Harold caught sight of her.
"Oh, Nelly, I am in heaven!" Harold slurred out. He had small eyes, which lit up to look like pennies. "Are you ft' dessert, darlin'?" He braced himself in the slender doorway, leering in at her.
"No, I'm not the dessert," Alexi told him. He reminded her of her uncle Bob. Mild mannered by day--a lecher after one beer too many.
"You sure look like dessert."
"Go home," Alexi said. She couldn't help adding, "And Bert--I wouldn't dump your wife if I were you."
"You know Gertrude, huh?" Harold swung on into the room, staring at her incredulously. "Honey, you are cute. Come to think of it, I'm sure I know you. Don't we know her, Harry? Hey--aren't you from that massage parlor downtown?"
"No! I'm not from any massage parlor! Bert, go home and sleep it off."
"I'm in heaven!" Bert claimed. He winked. "We did, honey. We met before." He turned around to nudge one of the other men in the ribs. "She remembers me! She gave me the best little, er, massage I ever did have. You here with a loser, honey? You come on now, and Harry and Bert will make it worth your while."
He clamped sweaty, sausagelike little fingers around her wrist. Alexi sighed. So much for her Helen of Troy fame. He thought that she was a, er, massage artist.
"Bert, I'm not--"
She broke off. A pair of heavy hands had taken hold of Bert. He was lifted off his feet and set down in the hallway. Rex was there, rigid and scowling angrily.
“Hey, bud, I was just--''
Harold broke in nervously. "Bert, let's get home, huh?"
Rex crossed his arms over his chest. “Bert, I do highly suggest you leave--now."
Bert wasn't about to be put off. He straightened his coat and looked around the wall of Rex's chest. "Honey, you wanna stay here with this animal?"
"Now!" The command sounded like a bark; Rex took a lethally charged step toward Bert.
"Rex!" Alexi protested.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen! Have we a problem? How may
I help you?" The pretty hostess, anxious and distressed, came running down the hallway, speaking softly.
"Rex!" one of the other men said. "Hey, you're Rex Morrow, aren't you? I've seen your picture on the book covers! Hey, I hate to bother you, but could I have an autograph? My wife would be so thrilled. She buys all your books. In hardcover. And we both read them, every word."
Bert stepped back as if he had been slapped. "You're him?" He gaped. Alexi thought that at any second he would stutter and say "Gaw-ly," just like Gomer Pyle.
"Gentlemen?" the hostess asked anxiously. She glanced at Rex pleadingly. Alexi saw him relax, and then he laughed. "I'm sorry. I haven't paper or a pen--"
They were quickly supplied. Rex scrawled out his name several times. When he had finished and the men started walking away, "Bert paused long enough to look at Alexi longingly.
"So you're with him tonight, huh?" He gazed back at Rex. "She's expensive, but she's worth every penny."
"What?" Rex murmured.
"Good night, Bert," Alexi said sweetly.
Bert followed the others. Alexi turned on Rex. "That wasn't necessary."
"They asked me--"
"Manhandling that poor drunken sot wasn't necessary."
He was silent for a long moment, walking around to sink back into his seat at the table. Once there, he crossed his arms over his chest to stare at her. "So you enjoyed teasing that drunken sot, huh?"
"No--but I can take care of myself."
"Great. Next time four men are descending upon you, remind me that you can take care of yourself."
"You would've gotten into a fight if your ego wasn't so colossal that you were more determined to sign your name."
He stared at her a moment longer and then reached for one of the chafing dishes. Alexi didn't sit again, and he didn't pay her any attention. He dished out fried rice and then crisp, succulent little pieces of honey-garlic beef. The smell reminded Alexi that she was starving, and she wasn't sure whether she was still angry or embarrassed--or even a bit awed, since she had been taken for a prostitute and the whole explosive moment had been defused by his lousy signature.
At last his gaze fell on her again, and as it flickered over her length, the corners of his lips twitched with amusement. "So you're expensive, huh?"
"Maybe I should have gotten the old dear to take me home," Alexi said, sitting at last.
"Dear child, he was after one thing." "Mmm. And what are you after?" He grinned. "Several things." Then he sobered again, mechanically moving chafing dishes around to fill Alexi's plate. "I couldn't find him." "Him who?"
"Him who was spying on us."
"Oh." Alexi shrugged. She was beginning to think that either Rex or she was crazy--or perhaps they were both imagining things. He was a mystery writer. Maybe--after a certain amount of time--that type of work played havoc with the brain. So there had been someone in the hallway. So what? Probably a hundred people walked down the hallway during the day.