“Trish, why did I let you talk me into this?”

The sound of running water and a little off-key humming was the only reply Cressida Aylesworth received to her question. She leaned her forehead against the bathroom door with a small thump, and sighed in frustration. She knew that her friend, Patricia Bennington, was only trying to improve Criss’s social life - but a Halloween masquerade ball? That was a little extreme, even for Trish. Criss would have preferred meeting someone new over coffee, thank you very much.  

As Criss turned away from the door, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror that hung on the opposite wall of her bedroom. She moved toward it slowly, appraising her appearance with a critical eye.

Her formal gown skimmed the lines of her body, accentuating both her slimness and the soft curves of hip and breast. The rich black velvet of the dress emphasized the creaminess of her skin and the unusual depth of color in her green eyes. Tightly fitted sleeves ended in points of fabric that rested against the back of her hands. Beneath the snug band of the gown’s empire waistline, the black velvet was split and a v-shaped panel of red velvet had been inserted into the front of the dress. The blood red color peeked out from the folds of black whenever she moved.

Criss had decided to wear her chestnut hair down tonight, and it curled against her throat and rested on her bare shoulders. The costume was stunning and showed off her lithe figure to perfection. She turned slightly, admiring the effect. Maybe those kickboxing classes were worth the time and effort after all. The click of the bathroom door latch opening interrupted her thoughts.

Trish emerged from the bathroom wearing an old green bathrobe. She ruffled her damp hair with a towel. Criss stepped out of range of the flying water droplets. 

“Did you say something?” Trish asked, as she peeked out from under the towel. “Oh wow! Look at you, Criss!”

“I said…Oh never mind.” Criss shrugged. It wasn’t as if she had anything else planned for tonight, and unless she could think of a doozy of an excuse, she knew her attendance at the ball was expected. The masquerade ball was a gala fundraising event sponsored by her employer, Maplethorpe Industries.

Earlier that evening she handed out candy to all of the little ghosts and goblins that came knocking at her door, and enjoyed the fun. But now that the candy bowl was empty and the porch light turned out, she had to admit that the rest of the evening stretched ahead emptier than a costume shop two weeks after Halloween.

She faced her friend. “Honestly Trish, I don’t really feel like going. Why can’t we just stay in, watch a scary movie, and eat candy?’

“You promised!” Trish turned on the blow dryer and began vigorously brushing her honey colored hair. “Besides, it’ll be fun. How often do we get to dress up and play make believe?”

Everyday at work, Criss thought. The growing restlessness that she felt in her personal life was spilling over into her work. She knew that attending tonight’s ball was all part of Trish’s plan to get her back into the social scene after the tragic death of both of her parents last year in a car accident. She looked at her friend fondly and reached out to tuck in a few stray hairpins that protruded from Trish’s head at odd angles, as she sectioned and dried her hair.

Criss didn’t know what she would have done without Trish’s support and caring after the death of her parents. An only child, and without any other close family members nearby, Criss had felt bereft and very alone in the world. Trish had been there for her, just like always, and there wasn’t anything Criss wouldn’t do if Trish really needed her to and – a wry smile tilting her lips - she suspected Trish knew it.

Criss wasn’t ready to give in graciously just yet, though.

“I feel like a princess waiting for the stroke of midnight, so I can turn back into a pumpkin, or scullery maid, or whatever it was Cinderella turned into.”

“La, la, la, I can’t hear you.” Trish turned the hair dryer up to the next setting and as the warm air roared out of it, she raised the volume of her own voice to match. “It’s such an exclusive party and how often do we get to go to the Embassy Hotel? I heard Maplethorpe Industries has invited artists and musicians and actors - ”

“- and their wives,” Criss pointed out.

 Trish stuck out her tongue and carried on as if she hadn’t heard Criss’s comment. Trish’s hearing was selective that way, Criss had noticed.

Both women were employees of Maplethorpe Industries. Trish worked as an executive secretary to the president, Darcy Maplethorpe III, and Criss was head of the Research and Development department. They had been fast friends ever since the day that Trish had plopped herself down beside Criss in the company cafeteria and asked her if she had noticed the handsome new guy from Marketing at the next table.

Trish shut off the hairdryer, satisfied that all the ends of her upswept hair were dry and in place. She moved back into the bathroom, and began to apply her makeup. A knock on the front door abruptly ended their conversation. Their eyes met for a moment in the bathroom mirror, and Criss looked both surprised and slightly annoyed.

“Those kids are out late.” She walked towards the hallway.

“Mmph” Trish replied, as she carefully applied her lipstick.

Must be teenagers out trick and treating later than their younger counterparts, Criss thought, as she went to answer the door.

“I turned out the porch light and the candy bowl’s empty, you’d think they’d take the hint,” she called over her shoulder to Trish.  Criss opened the door. “I’m sorry but the candy’s all gone…”

The man in the chauffeur’s uniform looked apologetic -   and confused.

“The car is ready, Miss.” He gestured towards the darkened street where the longest limousine Criss had ever seen was parked. It gleamed under the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr.…” Trish had walked up behind Criss and her voice faltered, as she found herself momentarily at a loss for words. 

“Charles, Miss.” The man stood motionless, peaked cap in hand.

“Thank you, Charles. We’ll be out in a moment.” Trish swung the door closed and looked at Criss with an amused twinkle in her eye.

“A chauffer?” Criss’s voice was incredulous. “You didn’t say anything about a driver. Surely not everyone going to the masquerade ball tonight gets picked up in a limousine?”

“Not everyone. Just you, Cressida Aylesworth,” Trish reached for her wrap, “and me, because I’m going with you. Mr. Maplethorpe arranged it and told me to keep it hush, hush. I think you have a secret admirer.”

Trish changed the subject hastily at the warning look in her best friend’s eye. “Let’s get a move on. We don’t want to keep Charles waiting.”

Criss admitted defeat. “You win.”

She picked up her mask from the hall table and linked arms with her friend. Trish glowed in a white full-length chiffon gown, fine gold braid wound through the swirls of her upswept hair. They looked at each other from behind their sequined and feathered half-masks, like a pair of exotic birds - one dark and one light - and laughed as they walked towards the waiting limousine.

Ã

 - Excerpt from Dark Encounter by Lauren Delaney –Ó Lauren Delaney, 2006 -  now available as part of the Black Rose line at The Wild Rose Press.  http://www.thewildrosepress.com

Visit Lauren's contest page to enter her latest contest :  http://laurendela.tripod.com