Damsel Under Stress (Page 93)

I had to admit, I looked pretty good, though even with my hot red outfit I wasn’t sure I was anywhere near as sexy as Gemma was in her skintight black catsuit and knee-high black stiletto boots. And then Marcia came out of the bathroom.

We almost didn’t recognize our own roommate. She wore a Marilyn Monroe–style dress, and with her hair curled she looked very much like Marilyn. It was more overtly sexy than I’d ever seen her. “What do you think?” she asked, sounding a little unsure.

“You’ll have to walk over at least one subway grating,” I said, and she grinned as she mimicked the famous pose.

The buzzer from downstairs sounded and Gemma ran to answer the intercom. A moment later, she opened the door to let Philip in. He was dressed like a storybook version of Prince Charming, complete with cape and crown. He gave all of us a sweeping bow, then put a green frog mask up to his face. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. He gave me a sly wink as he took the mask away from his face. “Is my costume adequate?” he asked.

“It’s great,” Gemma said, stepping forward and giving him a quick kiss.

“Absolutely brilliant,” I agreed.

The buzzer sounded again, and this time it was Owen. When he came upstairs, he was wearing a tux and a full-length opera cape. His eyes went huge when he saw me, and he’d just started to blush when Marcia asked him, “And what are you supposed to be?” With a sigh and a pained look at me, he put on a broad-brimmed black hat and the Phantom mask. Marcia nodded in approval. “Nice, but I think you might be a little too cute under that mask to be a proper Phantom of the Opera.”

He turned one of his better shades of red. “I guess we’re ready to go,” I said, trying to direct attention away from him even as I wished Marcia had given him a chance to react fully. It wasn’t often that a man looked at me that way, and I didn’t get the full effect of that look when he had the mask on. “Shall we head downstairs and try to get a couple of cabs?”

“Wait a second,” Gemma said, turning to Marcia. “Where’s Jeff?”

“He’s not coming tonight.” Marcia picked up her coat. “Let’s go.”

Owen took his mask off. “I called for a car, if you don’t mind.”

“Not one bit,” Gemma said, blowing him a kiss that made him turn pink again. “Thank you.”

As we all trooped downstairs, I hung back with Owen. “Nice cape and hat,” I said.

“I borrowed them from James. I headed up there for a short visit last night. I was scolded for not bringing you. And, by the way, I, um, like your costume. It’s a little out of character, but maybe it’s an entirely different side of you. One that could be fun for an evening, I suspect.”

“Thank you. I think.” I didn’t dare look at him because I was sure I was turning redder than my dress. I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant about my she-devil persona being fun. We got down to the sidewalk, and before we joined the others, I glanced at him. “When you said you ordered a car…” The look on his face said it all. “Oh, no, you didn’t.”

But the squealing tires of the car that came to a stop with one of its front wheels on the curb said it all. Instead of the two goofy gargoyles, though, one man got out of the driver’s seat. He had bulging eyes and Rocky’s long, thin face, but his legs were short and stocky. Owen and I sat in the front seat, with me in the middle next to the driver(s), and the others got in the backseat. “And, we’re off!” Rocky’s voice said as we shot out into traffic. My friends didn’t seem to notice anything strange about the driving, but I clutched Owen’s hand and squeezed my eyes shut during most of the trip.

The party turned out to be in a spacious SoHo loft with large arched windows overlooking the street many floors below and cast-iron columns throughout the room. Rod greeted us as we entered. He wore a purple frock coat that reminded me of the Gene Wilder version of Willy Wonka. “You remember my roommates Gemma and Marcia?” I said. “And this is Philip, Gemma’s boyfriend.”

Rod kissed the girls and me on the cheek and shook Philip’s hand. Then he turned to Owen, who was back in full Phantom regalia, and did a mock double take. “And who are you, stranger?”

“Not Robin Hood this time,” Owen said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, there are some shadows I need to haunt on the other side of the room.” He swept me away with an arm around my waist.

“Don’t get too deep into character,” I teased him. “I mean, unless you really want to drag me off into the basement away from all these people.” We were fairly early, but the place was already packed. With the costumes, it was hard to tell who was who. I’d left Owen’s necklace at home, assuming the place would be full of magic, so I couldn’t even tell how many people were wearing illusions instead of real costumes.