“No arguments from me.” Kerry glanced up as a basket of rolls and butter was set before her. She examined the butter. “Oh, Dar, look. It has little Mickey Mouses stamped into it.” She picked up the pewter plate and showed her companion. “Isn’t that cute?”

Dar ruthlessly kidnapped a hapless Mickey and spread it on a roll.

“Adorable,” she agreed, munching on it. “Any place in particular you want to see, now that you conned me into coming over here?” Her blue eyes glinted gently.

“Me?” Kerry pointed her own chest. “But, boss, it was your idea!”

However, she grinned impishly at Dar. “Thank you for indulging my somewhat childish whim.”

The candle on the table flickered in the air movement and threw interesting shadows across Dar’s planed features. The blue eyes moved around a lot as the taller woman watched the crowd, and the skin around them wrinkled and smoothed as she did so. Her dark hair fell gently over her shoulders and framed her face and Kerry suddenly became conscious of the fact that she was staring. She found something else to look at, picking up a wide, two-pronged fork and turning it over.

Dar cleared her throat gently. “So, was there someplace you wanted to see?” she repeated.

Kerry thought about that. “Why don’t you suggest something? You seem to know this place well enough. I mean, the roller coasters would be fun.”

“Ah. Space, Thunder, and Splash Mountain. Okay, we can do that in a couple of hours,” Dar agreed. “Park’s open until midnight. It’ll get quieter after the parade goes by.”

As if on cue, a brassy march filtered through the windows, and Kerry pressed her nose against one, peering out through the wavy glass to see a band going by.

Dar watched her with an indulgent smile, taking the opportunity to study her companion’s gentle profile. Kerry had a small, straight nose, and a firm, even chin, with rounded cheekbones and soft, fair lashes. Right now, those lashes were fluttering as she studied the parade, catching the odd glint from the candle, which also caught the faint wrinkles at the corner of her mouth as she smiled.

It is, Dar acknowledged to herself, nice to just sit across the table from someone who is cute, and intelligent, and has no ulterior motive in sharing dinner with me. Whoa. Her breath caught, and she went back over that statement.

Intelligent, yes. Kerry was certainly that. Cute? Where did that come from? She Tropical Storm 171

peeked at the younger woman, who was still engrossed with the sight outside.

Well, she is cute, the executive reasoned. Just all kind of sweet, and nice and, well…cute.

Her eyes traced the curve of Kerry’s ear, and she lowered her gaze to the plate in front of her, the roll taking on a sudden fascination for her.

C’mon, Dar, quit fooling yourself. You know she’s cute, and more than that, or it wouldn’t have been an image of her in that bathing suit that you used to pick up the old heartbeat this morning, hmm? The executive let out a breath wryly, and dismissed the thought. Well, she’s not your type, so find something else to look at.

Kerry cleared her throat. “Catchy tune.” She indicated the music outside.

“Your bread okay?”

Dar looked up, startled. “Yeah, I was just thinking.” She straightened sheepishly. “Sorry.” Green eyes suddenly met hers and she noticed the little golden flecks in them for the first time. They were interesting eyes, reminding her of sunlight underwater, and she studied them curiously until the raising eyebrow made her realize she was staring . Okay, enough of that. “Interesting parade?”

Kerry cocked her head. “Parade?” she asked softly, then she blushed a little. “Oh, yes, it’s very cute. They just had a float with Mickey and Minnie dancing on it.” She looked up as the server arrived with their dinner. “Good grief.” She eyed the plate as it was set down. “My god, that cow must have been the size of an elephant!”

“It’s actually Dumbo, ma’am,” the waiter stated in a smooth, even voice.

“He stepped on Minnie’s tail, and it was just all over for him.”

Both women stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Jesus, did your medication wear off?” Dar snorted.

“They don’t give it to us,” the man confided, placing Dar’s portion in front of her. “We have to handle steak knives and hot plates. It could be dangerous.” He made a little bow, flicking his long sleeves out of the way, and backed off. “Enjoy your dinners.”

It was difficult to know what to make small talk about, Kerry thought.

They could talk about work, but somehow she just didn’t feel like doing that tonight, so she cut a piece of her steak and nibbled it, gathering her courage before speaking. “Dar?” Those amazing clear blue eyes looked up at her, and the brow raised, which, Kerry realized, meant Yes? “Can I ask you a personal question?” she inquired shyly.

The darkness hid her flush, for which Dar was extremely grateful. “Um. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer it, but yeah, go ahead.” She felt a gentle nervous flutter hit her stomach.

Kerry leaned forward. “Is your name short for something, or is it just Dar?” “Oh.” The dark-haired woman speared a roasted potato and popped it in her mouth, giving herself a chance to think. She could just say ‘it’s just Dar,’

since legally it was. However… “Well, my mother was—is still, I suppose—an addict of Spanish romance novelas. She had a favorite character, Paladar. I’m named for that.” The executive cleared her throat in embarrassment. “I hated it. I had it legally changed when I turned eighteen.”

Kerry propped her chin on her hand, fascinated. “Paladar…I don’t know, 172 Melissa Good I kinda like it. It’s got a nice ring to it.” She watched the look of alarm spread on Dar’s face. “Don’t worry, though, I won’t use it, not if you don’t like it.”

“B…um, well…” Dar fiddled with her fork. “It was just so stupid. I mean, the character was this insane woman who ran around falling in love at the drop of a hat and getting into trouble. I just…I didn’t see any likeness, so…”

She shrugged. “And the kids my age knew where it came from. I got teased a lot.” She speared another cube of rare prime rib and dipped it in the small boat of gravy. “What about you? Is Kerry short for something?”

A charming smile edged the younger woman’s face as she regarded her companion. “Kerrison. It’s a family name. Usually it’s given to the eldest boy, but my father was determined to give it to his firstborn regardless, so, I have to live with it.”

Dar considered the name. “I like it,” she announced. “Fits you somehow.”

“You think so?” Kerry sounded doubtful. “I never did.” She bit a green bean in half and chewed it. “I don’t use it much. Even my résumé has Kerry on it, and all my official work documents.”

“Mmm, I know. That’s why I asked.” Dar glanced up with a grin. “I could have just logged in and found out otherwise.”

Kerry’s brows knit. “That’s so weird. You know all that stuff about me, and I…it’s just strange.” She laughed a bit. “I mean, it’s not like I can just log in and find out about you.”

Dar gazed at her, a tiny smile playing around her lips. “Kerry, you already know more about me than you’d find in the company computers,” she answered quietly. “Most of your co-workers would be astonished to know what my house looks like or that I’m a diver, or what my real name is, for instance.” She glanced to one side. “Or that I eat Frosted Flakes for breakfast.”

Kerry felt a little out of breath for a moment. “Oh.” She blushed, this time more noticeably in the low light. “Well, yeah, I guess you don’t…” She fell silent.

“Socialize.” Dar completed her sentence with a faint smile. “It’s all right,”

she reassured her companion. “I don’t. I’ve just learned along the way the more you let out about personal stuff, the more it comes back to bite you in the ass.” She saw Kerry’s eyes jerked up to meet hers, the faintly hurt look swiftly hidden. “Sometimes.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kerry murmured. “You know, not to bring up a sore subject, but your real name reminds me of something.” She changed the subject, a trifle awkwardly.

“Oh?” Dar took her own drink and sipped it. “What’s that, a package of marshmallows? That was a popular version when I was younger.”

“Oh, like Mallomar?” Kerry laughed softly. “Well, it’s sweet and tasty.”

This time the blush made her fair eyebrows stand out, and she winced in reaction. “Um, that’s not…I mean, I wasn’t, um…”

Dar chuckled softly. “Yeah, yeah. Relax, I know what you meant.” She paused. “ What else were you thinking of?”

“Um.” Kerry rubbed her face as though trying to rub away the flush.

“Paladins, actually. The other day I was reading a story that had them, and it, um…” She glanced at Dar, who looked puzzled. “Oh, right. You probably don’t read that kind of book. Sure, well, Paladins are knights, but they’re Tropical Storm 173

especially good kinds of knights. They stood up for people not for reward, but just because it was the right thing to do. That was what they were—people who just did things because they were right, not because it was good for them personally to do it.”

Dar leaned forward. “Kerry, I am not any kind of good guy, trust me, okay? I eat people for lunch. I fire people at the drop of a hat. I restructure companies to maximize profit for our company. Everyone hates my guts. So, try to remember that, huh? Or you’re in for a shock when we go into those meetings.”

“Not everyone,” Kerry replied quietly.

“Hmm?” Dar looked at her questioningly.

“Not everyone hates you.” The blonde lifted her chin. “I don’t.”

A silence fell between them as Dar stared at her. “You haven’t known me that…long,” she finally answered. “I don’t want you seeing me as something I’m not, Kerry. I’m very serious about that.”

They looked at each other for a lengthening moment, until Kerry shrugged faintly. “All right. I’ll try not to.”

“Okay, just so long as we’ve got that straight,” Dar replied with a nod.

“Right,” Kerry agreed. “As long as you don’t get mad when I say what I do see.”

Dar sighed. “I’m not any kind of a half-assed good guy.”

Kerry’s eyes held a very grave twinkle in them. “Dar, the one thing for sure is that you’re not a half-assed anything,” she said. “And you’ll never convince me otherwise, okay?”

“If you say so.” Dar rolled her eyes and went back to her steak.

“I do.” Kerry ate the last of her prime rib, took a sip of her punch and wiped her lips. “Boy, that was good.”

Dar popped her last potato into her mouth and nodded, leaning back as the attentive busboy scooted over to take away their plates. “Beats Pluto Pups, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” Kerry took a breath to protest as the busboy returned bearing two plates full of strawberry shortcake. “Oh lord.” She gave a chuckling Dar her most exasperated look. “I give up. I’m just going to reconcile myself to looking like Miss Piggy, and have done with it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll walk it off. This place is really spread out,” Dar reassured her. “Space Mountain first?”

Kerry started on her dessert. “Sounds good to me. Did someone really ever get their head cut off on that?”

Dar snorted softly. “It’s an urban legend, but it’s a good one. You always hear it from someone who has ridden before the victim and saw the head arrive several cars before the rest of the poor bastard.”

“Ugh, I’ll try not to think about that.” Kerry made a face. “And tighten my seat belt.”

“Oh, well, you don’t…” Dar stopped, considering. “Well, now that I think about it…” A thoughtful smile crossed her face. “You’ll be pretty safe.”

Kerry glanced up at her curiously, wondering what she meant.


174 Melissa Good EVERYONE WAS WATCHING the parade. That meant there was only a short line, and Kerry grinned as she joined it, putting her hands on the railing that kept the snaking path of humanity in check. Space Mountain was a tall, conical structure in the middle of Tomorrowland. It had a white roof and spire, and conspicuously posted, ominous warnings against riding the roller coaster for pregnant women, children, short people, people with heart conditions, and Mormons… No, wait, Kerry reread the notice. “Oh…new mothers. Right. Like anyone would take a newborn child on this.”

“Don’t laugh,” Dar’s voice came from a point just behind her. “I saw someone try to take a guinea pig on here once, for a bet.”