Waiting for Lila (2 page)

A moment later a loud noise from the terminal caused her to look up. Her gaze skimmed past Bill. He was almost certain that she hadn't actually taken in his presence, but as her eyes met his, then moved on past, something happened to him, something even bigger than the fluffed-pillow feeling. It was as though, for just a fraction of a second, he had no control over his own limbs. He had taken two steps toward her before he remembered that they were strangers.

It was an honest-to-gosh Twilight Zone sensation, and Bill couldn't decide whether to laugh or get himself to the nearest psychiatrist.

Bill had known beautiful women in his life; he had even dated a few. So he knew it wasn't this woman's fantastic looks that caused him to react so strongly. That would have been a normal reaction, an ordinary reaction. What he was experiencing went way beyond ordinary.

In fact, he thought, it was damned spooky. Because, although he had never seen her before, when their eyes had met for that split second, there had been a moment of distinct recognition.

There had to be an explanation, he told himself, furrows of concentration appearing in his brow as he stared at her. He had never been given to quirky moods or flights of fancy, and the phenomenon known as precognition was a bit too equivocal for his taste.

Nevertheless, there had been something between them. Or at least something in him. But what was it?

After a moment his eyes widened in astonished understanding. He rubbed his chin, and a peculiar little smile twisted his lips as he shook his head and whispered, "Well. I'll be damned."

Bill stood and watched, shamelessly eavesdropping as the beautiful Delilah let her friends crowd around her. He examined the expression on her face and knew without doubt that these people were important to her

"You said you'd never forget the little people." The large man leaned his head against Delilah's shoulder, gazing up at her with soulful brown eyes. "But you didn't say anything about me."

Bill swallowed a laugh when he saw that the man wore a white satin banner draped across his extra-wide chest. The words delilah's dominant disciple were written on it in neon pink marker.

"Booger darling"—the golden huskiness of her voice sank into Bill's flesh, all the way to the bones—"I've pined for you every minute we've been apart."

"Of course you have," the man called Booger said solemnly. "A man of my magnitude Isn't easy to forget."

"A man of your bulk isn't easy to forget," said the man with Oriental features. "Heaven knows I've tried often enough. Trash' him, Delilah. Have a fling with a real man."

"I don't think so, Jack," Delilah said. Her tone of voice was serious, but her golden eyes sparkled with fun. "I couldn't stand breaking the hearts of the millions of shallow women who love you."

A short, slightly stocky woman rolled her eyes expressively behind the round frames of her thick glasses. "Can't you two think of anything except sex?"

"No," both men said simultaneously and emphatically.

"Pay no attention to them," the raven-haired woman said. "My theory is that the warm climate has made their brains swell, which is why Jack"— Bill assumed the man with Oriental features was Jack—"has been running around beating his chest and flexing his muscles, and Booger tries to convince every woman he sees to let him take her chest measurements—strictly in the interest of science, he says. Thank goodness Alan seems immune to whatever is in the air here."

"Speaking of your loving husband, where is he?" Delilah asked.

"He had business to take care of or he would have come to the airport with us," Glory explained.

"A likely story," Booger scoffed. "Doesn't it seem a little strange that he remembered this 'business' the minute he saw our placards?"

Delilah grinned. "A prudent man is our Alan."

"An unmitigated coward is our Alan," Jack corrected her.

Glory raised one fist, shaking it at the group at large. "He's my honey and I'll defend his circumspection with my last breath. Besides, he's learning and growing every day. In fact, last week he played a practical joke on my father. He misquoted a stock report."

"There's a knee slapper if I ever heard one," the stocky woman said, crossing her eyes.

As they talked, they moved toward the airport terminal. Bill followed along behind them. He hadn't made a conscious decision to tag along. He simply seemed to have no choice.

At that moment a group of musicians pushed abruptly in front of him, and, since his gaze was on Delilah, Bill stumbled into one of the men, causing him to drop his instrument case. By the time Bill had apologized and helped the man, Delilah and her group had disappeared.

Glancing around, Bill shook his head. He was annoyed but not discouraged. He would find her. He was sure of it. Even though there were quite a few hotels in Acapulco, even though it might take all his spare time, one way or another he would find the golden girl.

Later, Bill's annoyance was tinged with just a little peevishness. His afternoon meeting had taken much longer than expected, so instead of searching for Delilah as he had planned to do, he now sat In the hotel's small bar, thinking about her.

La Porta, the hotel Bill had chosen, was not the most luxurious in Acapulco, but it suited him. A sprawling, palm-shaded structure, it was four stories tall and had pristine white walls as well as the obligatory red tile roof. It had seemed exactly right when he chose it. but now he wondered if he would have had a better chance of finding the glorious Delilah in one of the splashier hotels.

Then suddenly he heard The Laugh, and glancing up, he saw Delilah and her friends walk into the bar. They sat at a larger table approximately halfway across the small room from Bill. His luck had held.

"So that's why we're staying here," a stocky woman was saying. "And we were lucky to get a suite. Two small conferences are being held at La Porta this week."

"UPA and IJAMA," Booger said.

Delilah stared at him, one slender brow raised. "I know a speech therapist who can fix that problem."

"UPA is the United Plumbers Association and IJAMA stands for the Independent Jazz Artists of Mid-America," Booger explained. "Nice bunch of guys, but they don't need suites."

"Addie dear." Delilah said to the stocky woman, "I hope you've grown out of that tedious habit of—remove your hand from my thigh, Jack—leaving the light on all night long. I haven't had to wear a sleeping mask in the three years since we were roommates."

While Addie huffed, the rest of the group laughed good-naturedly. Obviously their friendship was well established.

"If she does," Glory said, "you won't be able to steal my bedroom this time, Dee."

"Not unless you have Alan's permission to share," Booger put in, then the large man groaned loudly. "Glory and Delilah together in the same bed—now, there's an idea that'll get the old hormones zipping along."

"Forget it," Glory said. "Alan might like it, but if he admits it. he's dead meat."

"I wouldn't stay up all night worrying about it," Delilah said, smiling slightly. "He doesn't know any other woman but you exists."

Bill didn't know what kind of man Glory's husband was, but unless he were made of stone, he had to be susceptible. No one could forget that Delilah existed.

"Okay," Jack said, grabbing Delilah's arm to get her attention. "Stop dillydallying around and tell us what happened to this Hamilton Langley Whitfield the Third."

She threw him an innocent look. "It's Hamilton Lindley Wharton, and there's nothing to tell. I'm afraid Ham didn't quite understand what I'm all about. In fact, it's only in this decade that his family has stopped thinking of professional people as hired help. Which is why he and I have agreed to sever our relationship."

Bill felt inordinately pleased that she was no longer tied to the man with the pompous name. And apparently her friends felt the same way. They all whooped loudly, then Booger began to chant, "And another one bites the dust. And another one bites the dust."

Delilah threw an ice cube at him. "Could you grant a dead relationship a little dignity, please?"

"I liked Ham," Glory said. "I wish I could understand what you're looking for, Dee. The last three men have all been spectacular."

"We discussed all this in the suite," Delilah said. "And just remember what I told you."

"I can't believe Booger even suggested it," Glory said, chuckling as she shook her head. "It finally happened. Einstein's brain has imploded."

"I really don't think I brought enough aspirin for this trip," Delilah said as she stared at the large man. "We should have had him committed years ago. Is it right to let him run loose in society simply because we're too sentimental to put him in a padded room?"

"I've been thinking about Booger's suggestion," Jack said, tapping his finger on his chin thoughtfully. "And I've come to the conclusion that we were too hasty. Although I hate to admit it, the cerebral psychopath might just be on to something this time." He paused, looking around at the others in the room. "We all need to make contacts— that's what we're here for, after all—so what's wrong with meeting a few new people?"

Bill leaned closer, even more intrigued than ever.

What were they up to, and why was Delilah looking as though she had slipped down the White Rabbit's hole?

Addie's thick glasses had slipped down on her diminutive nose as she carefully considered the mysterious proposition. "You know, this might work out."

"And the winner gets a prize," Booger said.

"That's it," Glory said as excitement grew in her brilliant blue eyes. "A prize."

"You traitors," Delilah muttered. She seemed to be torn between laughter and apprehension.

"What prize?" This was from Addie. "I want to know what the prize is before I waste my time looking."

"The winner gets to sleep with Delilah," Jack said, looking improbably innocent.

Glory shook her head doubtfully. "I don't think so."

"I've got it!" Addie's gray eyes were shining with greed. "The winner gets Dee's fox jacket."

"Naw," Jack said, "I don't have a thing to wear with it."

One by one they all turned to look at Booger. "Well, Mr. Wizard, what's the prize?" Jack asked.

Booger stared thoughtfully into space. After a moment a cherubic smile spread across his face. "The victor will be unanimously declared—once and for all, indisputably, now and in perpetuity— the most superior member of this group."

"Yes. Yes!" Jack said, raising a clenched fist. "I love it. At last each and every one of you will have to admit what I've been telling you for years: Jack Takara is the greatest."

"You've got the right idea," Booger said, smiling smugly. "Except for one small detail—the name of the winner. And when I win, I'll expect proper obeisance from everyone, especially the women."

Delilah tapped on her glass with a spoon. When she had the group's attention, she looked at them with narrowed eyes. "I want it clearly understood that I do not condone this lunacy. I know you people too well. My name and measurements will be on the bulletin board in the lobby and in telephone booths and on the walls in the men's rooms."

Addie snapped her fingers. "The bulletin board! I had already thought of the telephone booth and the men's rooms, but not the—"

Delilah rolled her eyes. "You see what I mean?"

Glory laughed. "Relax. I promise well be discreet. No one will throw your name around. Come on. Dee. be a sport."

Delilah stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "I must be out of my mind."

"That's okay. We still love you," Jack said as he stood and began to move toward the entrance to the bar.

Booger jumped up and shouldered Jack roughly out of the way, shouting, "Let the games begin!"

"Total idiots," Addie muttered.

"But cute," Glory added. "I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting week." She glanced at Delilah, then shook her head. "I don't suppose I'll ever understand you, but I hope you get what you want."

Addie sighed. "I hope we all get what we want on this trip." She glanced at Glory. "Including you. Is something wrong? You look a little tired— no, not tired exactly, distracted and . . . sad? Are you sad, Glory?"

Bill blinked when he saw Delilah's instant alertness. He knew suddenly that Glory was someone special to his golden girl.

"Sad?" Glory echoed with a short laugh. "What on earth would I have to be sad about? I have a wonderful husband, the kind of man women fight over. I'm in sunny Acapulco with the strangest but best friends in the world. And to top it off— she rose to her feet—"I will soon be the undisputed superior member of the group." She grinned. "Because I'm going to win."

At the entrance to the bar she glanced over her shoulder at Delilah and Addie. "To the hunt!"

After a moment Addie gave Delilah a puzzled glance, then shrugged. "To the hunt," she said as she followed Glory out of the room.

Now was the time for Bill to make his move. He stood up and walked toward Delilah, then suddenly the same group of musicians he had seen at the airport walked into the bar and one of them recognized Bill.