Page 73 of Inferno
“We’ll do it for you,” Kelvin humorously offered.
Roxanne and Prissy laughed as their husbands obligingly patted their backs.
When the playful moment passed, Kelvin said, “We were on our way to the cash bar to get some drinks. You two want anything?”
“Not at the moment,” Stan and Prissy declined.
“Okay. See you at the table.” Kelvin and Roxanne smiled before moving off.
As Stan and Prissy headed across the ballroom, they were frequently stopped and drawn into conversation with his colleagues and their spouses. In the two short years Stan had been with the CFD, he’d earned the respect of his peers and proved himself to be a worthy member of this brotherhood of firefighters.
As he and Prissy mixed and mingled, Prissy couldn’t help noticing the way women reacted to Stan, smiling flirtatiously at him and playfully cajoling Prissy to allow him to pose for the firefighter’s beefcake calendar. Even when Stan and Prissy moved on, the women’s admiring stares tracked him around the room. Prissy couldn’t really fault any of them. Without an ounce of shame or conceit, she could honestly say that her husband was the most scrumptious man at the ball. And that was sayinga lot, considering the plethora of other good-looking firefighters in attendance tonight.
Shortly after eight, the emcee for the evening approached the podium and cheerfully asked everyone to be seated so the festivities could begin. After a few opening remarks by Fire Chief Ellis Buckner, dinner was under way.
Prissy and the other members of the planning committee had wanted to strike a happy medium between “macho man” fare and gourmet cuisine. So they’d chosen a menu of beef tenderloin, braised chickenmarsala, scalloped potatoes, lemon herb pasta and sautéed vegetables.
Over the next hour, Stan and Prissy laughed and conversed with everyone at their table, which included Kelvin and Roxanne, Captain Sullivan and his wife Judith, two other firefighters and their spouses, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, an older black couple who’d lost their home to a fire earlier that year.
When Stan had enlisted the support of his colleagues to hold a fundraiser to help the displaced couple, the Campbells were overwhelmed with gratitude. They’d lovingly adopted him into their family, and the bond that developed between Stan and Mr. Campbell poignantly illustrated the void that Stan’s father’s death had left in his life. When the couple’s home was rebuilt that fall, they’d invited Stan and Prissy to be the guests of honor at their housewarming dinner. It was only fitting that they be Stan’s special guests at tonight’s ball.
Prissy was pleased that everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. The food was delicious, the live music was enjoyable and the jovial emcee kept the crowd entertained with good-humored jokes about firefighters and paramedics.
But shortly after dessert was served, Prissy felt an uncomfortable prickling sensation, as if she were being watched.
When she glanced around, her gaze collided with a pair of sultry dark eyes that belonged to a strikingly beautiful woman seated at the next table. The woman was staring at Prissy, her eyes gleaming with such animosity that Prissy was taken aback.
As she frowned, the woman suddenly blinked and plastered on a smile, as if she were sliding a mask back into place. When Prissy didn’t return her smile, the woman averted her gaze to her attractive male companion.
Prissy watched her, eyes narrowed speculatively.
After several moments, she turned to Stan, who’d been laughing and bantering with Mr. Campbell beside him. When Stan paused to take a sip of his drink, Prissy leaned over and murmured to him, “Honey?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Do we know that woman sitting at the next table?”
“What woman?”
“The light-skinned one in the sequined red gown.The Jayne Kennedy lookalike.”
Something inscrutable flashed across Stan’s face, disappearing so swiftly Prissy could have imagined it. As she watched, he slowly set down his glass and glanced toward the table she’d indicated.
After a few moments, he answered casually, “I think that’s Dr. Gilliard.”
“Who’s Dr. Gilliard?”
Stan hesitated for a fraction of a second. “She’s the department psychologist. I’ve seen her around headquarters once or twice, but I don’t know her personally.” Again he paused, meeting Prissy’s gaze. “Why do you ask?”
“She was glaring at me just now.”
“Glaring?”
Prissy nodded.“Like I stole something of hers.”
Flicking another glance at the woman, Stan gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure she wasn’t glaring at you, babe.”
Prissy bristled at his mildly patronizing tone. “You think I don’t know when someone’s giving me the evil eye?”
