“Don’t flatter yourself, Rook. It’s all about the art. Cheers.” They clinked and sipped. Then she said, “Let’s keep this informal. You relax, enjoy some TV, whatever. I’m going to get a bath and soak some street chase off me.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said, picking up the TV remote. “Take your time. I think Antiques Roadshow is in Tulsa tonight.”
Nikki gave him the finger and disappeared down the hall. She went into the bathroom, set her wineglass on the vanity, and opened the taps over her bathtub. She was just reaching for her bubble bath when he knocked on the doorjamb.
“Hey, what if I had been ‘entertaining’ somebody?” she said.
“With what,” he said with a sly grin, “a little pony play?”
“You wish,” she said.
“Just wondering if you were hungry.”
“Now that you mention it, yes.” Funny, she thought, how adrenaline shuts that part down. “Want to order in?”
“Or, if you don’t mind, I could scrounge your kitchen. No booby traps, I trust.”
“None,” she said. “Knock yourself out, I’ll just enjoy the fact that I’m soaking while you work.”
“Love this thing,” he said and stepped to her claw-foot bathtub. He rapped his knuckles on it and the cast-iron bonged like a church bell. “If the asteroid ever hits, this is where you should duck and cover.”
A half hour later, Nikki emerged in her robe, brushing her hair. “Something smells good out here,” she said, but he was not in the kitchen. He wasn’t in the living room, either. “Rook?”
Then she looked down on the rug and saw a trail of cocktail napkins leading to the open window and the fire escape. She went back to her bedroom for her slippers, stepped through the window onto the metal stairs, and climbed them to the roof.
“What are you doing?” said Nikki as she approached. Rook had set up a card table and two folding chairs and lit votive candles to light the meal he had prepared.
“It’s a little eclectic, but if we call it tapas we’ll never know it’s just stuff I scrounged.” He pulled a chair out for her. She put her wineglass on the table and sat.
“This looks great, actually.”
“It is, if you’re not too hungry and can’t see the burn marks in the dark,” he said. “It’s basic quesadillas cut into quarters and then there is smoked salmon with some capers I found in the back of your pantry. Out of sight, out of mind, you know.” He must have been nervous because he kept on. “Is it too chilly up here? I brought the blanket off the couch if you need it.”
“No, it’s nice tonight.” Nikki looked up. There was too much ambient light to see any stars, but the view of the New York Life Tower a few blocks away and the Empire State Building beyond it were a splendid enough view. “This is brilliant, Rook. A nice touch after the day we’ve had.”
“I have my moments,” he said. As they ate, she watched him in the candlelight, thinking, Now what was my issue here? On the street somewhere beneath them a car rolled by blasting classic rock with mega bass. It was before her time, but she knew the Bob Seger song from the clubs. Rook caught her staring at him as the chorus blared out that what they had in common was the fire down below.
“What’s wrong, did I overdo the candles?” he asked. “Sometimes I can come off kind of Mephistophelian when lit by flame.”
“No, the candle’s working.” Nikki took a bite of quesadilla and said, “But I do have something serious I need to ask you.”
“Sure, but we don’t have to do any heavy lifting tonight. I know that was the plan but that can wait. I’ve almost forgotten how you crushed my spirit this afternoon.”
“But I need to know this and I need to know right now.”
“OK . . .”
She wiped her hands on her napkin and looked him in the eyes. “Who has black pillowcases?” Before he could answer, she continued, “It’s been bugging me since your office. Were those your black pillowcases?”
“First of all, they aren’t black.”