First blood. “oh, hi, lissa,” Reva said calmly

“Oh, hi, Lissa,” Reva said calmly. “What do you want?”

Lissa, her face crimson, her small hands tightened into fists, ignored Reva and stared only at Mitch.

“We’re kind of busy right now,” Reva told Lissa, pushing at her hair, straightening her white sweater. She reached out and wiped some of her lipstick off Mitch’s chin.

Lissa, standing rigidly in the stockroom doorway, continued to stare at Mitch. Angry tears had formed in the corners of her eyes.

“Reva—” Lissa started, talking now through clenched teeth and shifting her attention to Reva. “You can’t just play with people.”

“Who’s playing?” Reva cracked and laughed at her own line.

Mitch opened his mouth to say something to Lissa, but then closed it and lowered his eyes to stare at his shoes.

Lissa cried out, more in disgust than anger, furious that Mitch hadn’t the courage to say anything. Then she turned and fled from the room.

“Lissa—wait!” Mitch finally cried out.

“What a bore. Now, where were we?” Reva asked, turning her sexiest, most devilish smile on him.

But Mitch had pushed past her and taken off after Lissa. “Hey—wait! Lissa—wait!”

“Let her go!” Reva called after him.

Oh, brother, she thought, rolling her eyes. What is his problem?

But she chased after him, into the electronics department with its wall of color TVs, all tuned to Oprah Winfrey, fifty Oprah Winfreys staring at Reva as she grabbed Mitch by the arm and pulled him back.

“Let her go,” Reva instructed him.

“I can’t,” he insisted heatedly, his eyes searching the wide aisle for Lissa. She had disappeared.

“Don’t be a wimp,” Reva said. The Oprah Winfreys grinned at her, speaking silently into a microphone, as if giving a play-by-play of what she and Mitch were doing.

“Hey—let go of me, Reva,” Mitch said angrily.

She opened her eyes wide and pouted in a mock display of having her feelings hurt. “Come on, Mitch,” she urged in her low, sexy voice. “Let’s go back to the stockroom. We can talk about it there.”

Mitch, still searching for Lissa, shook his head no.

Reva turned away from the smiling Oprah Winfreys and saw Hank come around the corner from the freight elevators, heading toward her. Quickly she stepped closer to Mitch and draped her arm affectionately around his shoulder. She nuzzled against Mitch, who was momentarily too startled to react.

Does this make you jealous, Hank? Reva thought as Hank passed by, staring at her but not saying hello.

Does this make you jealous?

I hope so.

“Reva, please,” Mitch said edgily, pulling away from her. “You know, what we were doing—I mean—back there—” He pointed toward the stockroom against the back wall. “Well, it wasn’t right. I mean—”

“What do you mean?” Reva asked softly, patiently.

Mitch took a deep breath and started again. “Lissa and I have been going together a long time. And I just don’t think it was fair to her—”

Reva reached out and rubbed more lipstick off his face. “I like you, Mitch,” she said in her most kittenish voice. “You like me too—don’t you?”

He blushed and swept his hand back through his straight, dark hair.

“You seemed to like me... back there,” Reva said, glancing back to the stockroom.

“I just think—well—”

Poor Mitch, Reva thought, amused. He’s totally flustered.

“Oh. Look at the time!” Reva cried suddenly, staring at her watch. “I promised I’d be back at my post ten minutes ago! Ms. Smith will kill me! She’ll probably club me with her shoulder pads!” She rubbed his cheek with the back of her hand. “See you later.”

Then, before Mitch had a chance to respond, she turned and ran, heading for the bank of elevators on the other side of the store, leaving him standing still with his mouth agape, just as the fifty Oprahs waved goodbye.

The store was crowded with lunchtime shoppers, office workers mostly, crowding around the costume jewelry counters, a few housewives pushing strollers, shopping bags draped over the handles.

That went better than I thought, Reva told herself, a pleased smile on her newly lipsticked lips. Having Lissa burst in on us like that was an added treat.

I’ll never forget the horrified look on Mitch’s face, she thought.

What a wimp.

But at least he’ll be my wimp soon.

A line of five or six kids, dressed in snowsuits and wool caps, made Reva realize she was passing Santa Land at the front of the Dalby toy department. Sure enough, there was Robb up in Santa’s big, red- and white-candy-striped throne, a scared-looking toddler on his lap.

As Reva passed by, the kid tilted his head back and then exploded a wet sneeze right in Robb’s face.

Reva laughed out loud. What a riot!

Poor Robb will be wiping snot off his face for a week!

Reva was still chuckling when she reached the perfume counter and took her place behind the display shelves. Ms. Smith stepped away from the cash register alcove and approached Reva, glancing angrily at her watch.

“I’m glad you find being late so amusing,” she snapped.

“I wasn’t smiling about that,” Reva replied coldly.

“Well, you’ve made me fifteen minutes late for my luncheon engagement,” Miss Smith accused.

“Terribly sorry,” Reva told her, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“There are customers waiting,” Reva’s supervisor scolded, then grabbed up her bag and started off.

“Have a good lunch,” Reva called with exaggerated sweetness.

Ms. Smith turned back. “There’s a package for you,” she told Reva. “That one there. With the gift wrapping. I don’t know who left it. Open it when all the customers have gone.”

Reva watched Ms. Smith hurry away through the crowded aisle. As soon as she was out of sight, Reva picked up the package and carried it to the cash register alcove, turning her back to the counter so that customers couldn’t disturb her.

The package was square and was neatly wrapped in silver-foil wrapping paper with a red bow taped to the top.

How odd, Reva thought, turning the package over in her hands. Is this an early Christmas present from someone? Who would know to leave it here at the perfume counter? It must be some kind of surprise from Daddy, she decided.

“Miss! Miss?” a woman was calling loudly to Reva.

She ignored the customer and, being careful of her fingernails, tore open the package.

There was a box inside. Reva eagerly tore the top off the box and pulled out a dark, gracefully shaped bottle.

It was some sort of perfume or cologne.

Such an unusual bottle, Reva thought, admiring the smooth red glass, examining it curiously.

It’s so heavy, it must be very expensive, she figured.

She carefully removed the glass stopper and started to raise it to her nose.

She stopped when she saw the drops of dark red liquid clinging to the bottom of the stopper.

Suddenly suspicious, Reva put the stopper down, then tilted the bottle onto her outstretched finger.

It’s not cologne—it’s blood!

Reva uttered a low cry.

The bottle slipped from her hand, hit the hard countertop, and shattered.

Two customers, women leaning on the other side of the counter, also cried out in alarm as blood from the bottle splashed over the front of Reva’s white cashmere sweater.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20