Gregory waited; he looked as if he knew something big was coming.
"I saw you and Eric and the other guy — that dealer — making an exchange."
"Oh, that," he said, as if it were nothing.
"Oh, that?" she repeated.
"I thought you were going to tell me something like, from now on, we were never to see each other alone."
Ivy looked down, pulling and twisting a tassel on her skirt. It would probably be better if they didn't.
"Oh," he said, "I see. You were going to say that, too."
Ivy didn't answer him. She didn't honestly know.
Gregory walked over to her and laid his hand on top of hers, keeping her from yanking off the tassel.
"Eric does drugs," he said, "you know that. And he's gotten himself in deep, real deep, with our friendly neighborhood dealer. I bailed him out."
Ivy looked up into Gregory's eyes. Against his tan, they looked lighter, like a silver sea on a misty day.
"I don't blame you. Ivy, for thinking I'm doing the wrong thing. If I thought Eric would stop when he ran out of money, I wouldn't pay up for him. But he won't stop, and they'll go after him."
He let go of her hand. "Eric's my friend. He's been my friend since grade school. I don't know what else to do."
Ivy turned away, thinking about how loyal Gregory was to Eric and how disloyal she had been to Suzanne.
"Go ahead. Say it," Gregory challenged her. "You don't like what I'm doing. You think I should find myself better friends."
She shook her head. "I don't blame you for what you're doing," she said. "Eric's lucky to have you for a friend, as lucky as I am. As lucky as Suzanne is."
He turned her face toward him with just one finger. "Finish up your work," he said, "and we can talk some more. We'll go out somewhere, not home, okay?"
"Okay."
"Are you going to wear that?" he asked, smiling.
"Oh! I forgot. I spilled cappuccino on my dress. It's soaking in the basin."
He laughed. "I don't mind. You look… uh, exotic," he said, his eyes dropping down to her bare shoulders.
She tingled a little.
"I guess I'll have to find a costume for me."
He started looking over the wall of hats and wigs. A few minutes later he called out to her, "How's this?"
Ivy looked up from behind the register and laughed out loud.
He was wearing a frizzy red wig, a top hat, and a polka-dotted bow tie.
"Dashing," she said.
Gregory tried on one costume after another— a Klingon mask. King Kong's head and chest, a huge flowered hat and boa.
"Clown!" said Ivy.
He grinned at her and waved his feathery stole.
"If you want to try on a whole outfit, there are fitting rooms in the back. The one on the left is large, with mirrors everywhere. You get all angles," she told him. "I'm really sorry Philip isn't here to play with you."
"When you're done, you can play with me," Gregory replied.
Ivy worked a little longer. When she finally closed the books, she saw that he had disappeared into the back.
"Gregory?" she called.
"Yes, my sveet," he answered with an accent.
"What are you doing?"
"Come here, my sveet," he replied. "I've been vaiting for you."
She smiled to herself. "What are you up to?"
Ivy tiptoed to the dressing room and slowly pushed open the swinging door. Gregory had flattened himself against the wall. Now he turned quickly, jumping in front of her.
"Oh!" she gasped. She wasn't acting; Gregory made a startlingly handsome vampire in a white shirt with a deep V-neck and a high-collared black cape. His dark hair was slicked back, and his eyes danced with mischief.
"Hello, my sveet."
"Tell me," she said, recovering from the surprise, "if you put in your fangs, will you be able to pronounce w´s?"
"No vay. Thees is how I speak." He pulled her into the room. "And may I say, my sveet, vat a lovely neck you have!"
Ivy laughed. He put in his long teeth and began to nuzzle her neck, tickling her.
"Where do I thrust in the wooden stake?" she asked, pushing him back a little. "Right there?" She poked him lightly where his shirt gaped.
Gregory caught her hand and held it for a long moment. Then he took out his teeth and lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing it softly. He pulled her closer to him. "I think you've already done it, thrust it straight through my heart," he told her.
Ivy looked up at him, barely breathing. His eyes burned like gray coals beneath his lowered lashes.
"What a lovely neck," he said, bending his head, his dark hair falling forward. He kissed her softly on the throat. He kissed her again and again, slowly moving his mouth up to hers.
His kisses became more insistent. Ivy answered with gentler kisses. He pressed her to him, held her tightly, then suddenly released her, dropping down before her. He knelt in front of her, reaching up to her, his strong, caressing hands moving slowly over her body, pulling her down to him. "It's okay," he said softly. "It's okay."