Behind Iron Lace (7 page)

Caleb didn’t really care how words worked. He’d never needed to know where a comma went, or the difference between who and whom to create an image so powerful no words were needed. He guessed they were even on that score at least.

At four the office began to shut down, a shiver of anticipation filled the air as the crew twittered amongst themselves about the midnight launch of this week’s edition. Caleb stood with the one reporter with any real photographic promise, Amber; at least that was what he thought her name was. Amber could barely look at him as he showed her how to work his digital camera, the sensitive shutter, how to select the correct speed, to focus in on a shot until she had the subject perfectly framed. Then he showed her some tricks with the cheap ten-pixel model she had at her disposal to get the best possible photos.

At the end of the session, she seemed to grasp most of what he’d told her, though she was still unable to look at him directly without giggling. He suddenly felt old.

Other than him, Bailey and Darcy seemed to be the oldest of the lot. Maybe thirty if he guessed right, the rest were early and mid-twenties, straight out of college. Hell, they were all so young, they still thought they could save the world. Far be it from him to dispel that notion. He’d thought that way once upon a time too, he just couldn’t remember when exactly. Maybe eighteen years ago when he was still an art major at LSU, maybe a couple of years after he dropped out to chase rock bands around the world. Could have been when he was an embedded photographer in the first year of the Iraq war. Whenever it was, he hadn’t noticed that innocence was missing until today.

“So how’s it going, Caleb?” Bailey slipped up beside him and latched her arm around his. She looked him straight in the eye, which was something of a shock. Not many women were his height or as aggressive as Bailey.

“Pretty good, Amber and I are going over some basics. She has a good eye. With some decent equipment I think I can turn her into a regular Jimmy Olsen.” He smiled, letting her caress his arm. “What can I do for you, Bailey? It is Bailey, isn’t it?”

“Right on the nose.” She laughed a husky seductive laugh he was sure she thought was sexy. “We are just so happy to have you here. Darcy was so excited when you contacted him the other day. He was actually giddy, if you believe that. And I must say after spending the morning looking over your credentials I am so happy you found us. Anyway, on Thursday nights we usually meet at a club or someplace and have a little celebration, sort of our version of a wrap party if you will, and we would be so happy if you joined us.”

Amber seemed to get a kick out of something Bailey said, but she hastily concealed her snort behind a neutral smile. Ah, trouble in paradise. Who was the snake and who was the apple? “Sounds like a good deal. Any place specific? I have something to do later but I can certainly meet you there.”

“No place special, really, we try to go someplace new as often as we can. Darcy likes O’Doul’s down the street. He’d go there every week if it were up to him. He’s such a stick. So I was hoping you might suggest some place, being a local and all, something off the tourist route maybe.” She was laying it on thick, letting a bit of mimicked southern charm slip into her voice.

“I know a place, it’s a blues bar out in Storyville, the area can be kind of rough but they have the best music and oysters in town.”

“Ooh, sounds delicious Will there be dancing? I love to dance.”

“I can tell, darlin’, you have the natural grace of a dancer. Sure there’s dancing, pool, mixed drinks, and real N’Awlins cuisine.” He scrawled the address on a notepad and handed it to her. “Just make sure to keep an eye on each other and everything will be fine. I’ll call the doorman, he’ll know to expect you. Just tell him Caleb called him a dirty whore and he’ll know who you are.”

“Are you teasing me? I really have to say that?”

“Sure, it’s my special password, he made it up himself.” He didn’t, Caleb just wanted to see if she was as gullible as she looked. She stared horrified at him for a moment before she smiled.

“You had me going there for a minute. I’ll tell him what you said, just to see what he calls you. I bet he has a good name for you. See you tonight then, Caleb, around seven.” She patted his hand and flitted away, waving the note as if it were something special.

When she was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to Amber. “So why don’t you like Miss Bailey?”

Amber had the good sense to turn red, her adorable freckles stood out against the rosy hue, making him smile. “You weren’t supposed to notice that.”

“I notice everything. I could tell you where everything is in this room after one minute inside. It’s a curse really. But it’s made me famous. Now spill, what’s up with Bailey?”

“She broke Darcy’s heart when she started sleeping with Chester. Nobody likes Chester. He’s a nasty little guinea pig, but then that’s just cruel to guinea pigs, isn’t it? She used to be nice. Now she’s just catty.” Amber fiddled with the telescopic lens to Caleb’s camera. Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her.

“And you are loyal to Darcy?”

“We all are, this magazine is his brainchild, it might not seem like it but he puts a lot of energy into keeping it running. Bailey runs around as if she’s a queen with Chester the Jester on her heels. But we know Darcy is in his office working the phones, following leads until he knows what stories he wants to feature and then he sends us where we need to go. Bailey just does PR and she can work a computer like nobody’s business but she doesn’t often. She likes to network. She looks like one of those models in magazines, skinny and tall. I hate her.”

“For what she did to Darcy?”

“Because he’s not happy, he doesn’t like it here. We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her. Actually now that I think about it, today when you came in, was the first time I’ve seen him really smile in weeks. You must be something special to get Darcy to smile like that.” She looked at him then, really looked at him, her shrewd eyes taking in every detail until Caleb wanted to squirm.

“Me? I’m nothing, just a bum who knows a thing or two about art and that’s what impressed him. Right now, I’m Cinderella at the ball, he’ll find out soon enough I’m really an ugly stepsister.”

“You know, Caleb, I was set to dislike you just because you remind me of Bailey, too beautiful for your own good. But I see now that you have the heart of a poet.”

“Now that, Amber, my friend is going way too far, I’m just a shit kicker at loose ends. Don’t let the face or the glib tongue fool you. I’m nothing but a petty little man who needs entertainment and right now, for better or worse, the Bailey, Darcy, Chester circle is too interesting to pass up.”

“Just so long as Darcy doesn’t get hurt,” she said softly, meeting his gaze with a forceful glare. “I’ll have your back. Hurt Darcy and I’ll do my best to ruin you.”

“And you could do it too, couldn’t you?” He smiled when she nodded. “Amber, I can see you and I are going to get along just fine.”

“You might want to give me the address. Bailey sometimes forgets to pass along meet ups to those of us she doesn’t like. And I for one would love to see the seamier side of New Orleans.”

“You got it,” he wrote the address down again just as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the text and returned it. “Well, there’s the bat signal, I’m needed downtown. It was nice meeting you, Amber. And remember what I told you and you’ll do fine.”

“I’ll do that, Caleb. See you tonight.” Still engrossed with his camera she waved him away. “And I’ll get this back to you Tuesday.”

“No hurry, I have ten more at home.”

He found himself standing in front of Darcy’s office once again; this time he didn’t knock, he walked in unannounced. Darcy, with phone to his ear, looked up at him but continued his conversation. He jotted down flight information on a notepad and hung up. He took off his glasses and tossed them on the desk to rub his eyes, he looked tired. “Sorry about that, last minute change in one of the assignments for next week. Are you heading out then?”

“Yeah, listen about all that shit earlier, I’m not exactly myself lately. I usually don’t go around antagonizing people.” He liked Darcy without the glasses; the electric blue of his eyes was startling without them.

“I hear you invited the gang out for drinks later. That was nice of you.” He didn’t acknowledge the apology but he seemed to relax.

“I don’t know how giving an address to a blues bar became an invitation to drinks, but okay. Are you going to be there?” Because if he wasn’t going to show up, Caleb had tons of better stuff to do.

“I’m sure Bailey will have my hide if I don’t. Oh hey, before I forget—about tomorrow, we pretty much don’t do anything around here on Fridays. The magazine is set to launch at midnight, most of us just sleep in and if we feel like dragging in, we just shoot pool or play cards, stuff like that. We’re closed on Saturday and Sunday, but those with assignments travel on Sunday. Monday, the office staff starts setting up for next week’s edition. So really unless you just want to hang out then we’ll see you Monday.” He yawned, his fingers moved to his temples.

“You look exhausted.” Caleb wanted to walk behind the desk and run his hands over his shoulders, ease the stress of the day away. He worked on impulse control. Must not freak the pretty man out, must not give in to the urge to nibble his ears.
Merde
.

“I didn’t sleep well last night. Too much beer, I think, makes me have nightmares.” Darcy cleared his throat, a blush crept up his cheeks and he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“You keep telling yourself that,
cher
. Meanwhile, I’m needed at the hospital. If I make it to your little party, I’ll see you there.” He left Darcy staring after him, his face gone suddenly pale as if he’d been caught doing something very, very naughty. Caleb wondered just how naughty Darcy’s dreams really were. Enough to keep him awake. But was it enough to push him out of his comfort zone? God, Caleb hoped so.

Strange music blasted from the stage, happy, dancy music that set Darcy’s teeth on edge. Not that the music was bad, it wasn’t, he was just tired. He wanted to go home, watch a movie, read a book—do something quiet. Anything quiet, he didn’t care what as long as the tension in his neck would just stop throbbing long enough for him to relax.

It wasn’t late, sometime after ten, probably closer to eleven, and he’d been awake for more hours than he could count. He leaned back in the leather seat, stretching his legs out under the table as far as he could. He draped his arms across the back and let his head loll back against the wall. The ache in his neck eased somewhat, enough to let him drift a bit as the music began to weave slowly around him. Never mind that he was alone in an unfamiliar bar, he let sleep creep up on him.

“Look at this,
cher
, you ever see anything so lazy in you life?”

Darcy cracked an eye open. He knew that voice, the long, lazy drawl, not quite right, not quite wrong either.

“He sho is easy on the eyes,
beb
. I been watching him since he came in. I got me an
envie
for dat one.” The waitress smiled down at him, open appreciation on her face. She winked at him just as Caleb slid into the booth with him. “You want the usual,
beb
? Or something to go?”

“
Mais
, no, bring us out a couple dozen oysters and—what you drinking,
cher
? Whatever my new friend is drinking, and a pitcher of beer. Oh hey, Teela, bring a basket of beignets out too. I need something sweet tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, and how’s your mama? We heard about her, you uncle was in here looking for you this afternoon. He’s not looking so good.” She gathered up the discarded glasses.

“My uncle can
beck moi tchew, cher
, you tell him to get his sorry ass over to the hospital nex’ time he come in here. I ain’t got nothin’ to say to him ‘til he show his face dere.”

“Sure thing, Caleb. I go fetch those oysters then.” She looked at the man sitting next to Darcy strangely, as if he’d fallen from some weird planet where they spoke some messed up language, but she spoke it too, so none of that made the slightest bit of sense to him.

“Would you mind translating some of that? I’m rusty on my French, did you say your uncle should bite your ass? And why does she envy me? Christ, I need a dictionary.”

“Won’t do you no good,
beb
, most of what we say isn’t in one anyway.” Placing his knee in the seat next to Darcy’s leg, Caleb leaned his elbow on the back of the seat. His voice was light with laughter. “She said she has a craving for you,
envie
, not envy, pronounced sort of like awning. You are mighty fetching lying there, can’t say as I blame her.”

“Do you do that on purpose? Change accents like that, I mean? It’s disconcerting.”

“Gives you frissons when I talk like dis, goose bumps. Admit it,
cher
, you like my voice, it makes you tremble.” Darcy tried not to flinch when Caleb lightly ran his fingers along the back of his arm. “More frissons. You have smooth skin, I like that.”

“Cut it out, Caleb. I told you I’m not interested. And stop playing Cajun.” Darcy ignored the goose bumps coursing down his arm. What was it he’d said, freezons?

“I am Cajun, coonass bayou bait,
cher
, until my daddy moved us all up to Charleston. I had to learn to talk like his people, so my daddy wouldn’t be disinherited for marrying a piece of swamp trash. Never mind my
grand-pere
had more money than God and owned half this town at the time. And besides,
cher
, your lips say no, but your eyes are saying something else entirely. Teela ain’t the only one with an
envie
for you.”

“Are you drunk?” Darcy said low when the waitress returned carrying a tray loaded with platters and glasses.

“Not yet,
cher
, but soon. Hey Teela, bring me more of this, will you? It’s been a horrible day.” He sniffed the clear liquor Teela sat down in front of him. “Gin and tonic. Bring more of this, should do the trick.”