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’d 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. Awfully 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’d 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’d 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 hob nobbing 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’d had. She’d never been 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 tried a soothing tone. He wasn't looking for an argument. 'Reading, trying a few videogames—”
'Which ones?
'—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 black dress nicely. It made her blond hair and blue eyes seem to glow.
'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 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. The gauzy, dazzlingly white fabric snaked 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.
