Celinda thought of it as a permanent nightlight.
She gave Araminta another pat. Together they went back inside the apartment and into the little kitchen. Most of the apartments in the Old Quarter were small, and this one was no exception. The buildings had all been constructed during the Colonial era. The First Generation colonists had built their original structures in the shadows of the ancient walls that surrounded each of the four Dead Cities that had been discovered: Old Cadence, Old Resonance, Old Frequency, and Old Crystal.
Over the years, as the new human cities had grown and expanded into the surrounding countrysides the Old Quarter had fallen into decay and disrepair. Many of the neighborhoods with their tight, cramped streets and dark, looming buildings had become home to derelicts, prostitutes, and the down and out.
Although gentrification had begun in certain sections, you could still get a cheap apartment in the Quarter. That fact had figured heavily into Celindaâs decision to rent in the neighborhood. She had been on a very tight budget when she moved to Cadence to start over. But it wasnât cost alone that had brought her to the Quarter. Like most strong para-rez talents, her senses responded pleasantly to the gentle ambient psi that leaked out of the ancient city.
She opened the door of the refrigerator. Together she and Araminta surveyed the contents. There was a large wedge of leftover lasagna, some salad greens, a carton of milk, and a half-empty bottle of wine.
Araminta displayed great interest in the lasagna.
âWell, I was going to have that for my dinner, but since it looks like Iâm eating out tonight, whether I like it or not, you can have the lasagna,â Celinda said.
She spooned the lasagna into Aramintaâs plate on the floor and then went into the bedroom and opened the closet. Her social life had been nonexistent since the debacle in Frequency. She hadnât been inspired to shop for anything more interesting than extremely conservative business suits.
Her choices tonight were limited to two possibilities. The very pink dress sheathed in clear plastic did not count. She was quite certain that once she wore it for her sisterâs wedding, she would never wear it again. Pink was not her color.
She contemplated instead the classic little black dress hanging at the back. It was long-sleeved and had a demure neckline. The last time it had been worn was at a funeral. She pondered it for a long moment. According to Ten Steps to a Covenant Marriage , black was always safe. Furthermore, on a first date elegant was the watchword, not provocative .
On the other hand, there was a fine line between elegant and dull, and as Davis had made clear, this wasnât exactly the start of a Covenant Marriage courtship.
She pushed aside a couple of jackets and studied option number two, a sleek, dark violet number with a deep, off-the-shoulder cowl neckline that could only be described as provocative.
Number two was probably not a good idea. Regardless of how it had started out, this was not a real date.
But a strange recklessness seemed to have replaced her usual good sense. What the heck, the relic was his problem, not hers. This was the first time sheâd been out to dinner with a man in months, and she intended to enjoy it, even if she was breaking all the rules.
She headed for the shower, stripping off her clothes.
Â
AN HOUR LATER SHE INSERTED THE SECOND OF A PAIR OF amber earrings into her ears and stood back to survey the results in the mirror. In spite of the stern lecture she had given herself in the shower, she could not suppress the little thrill of anticipation that shivered through her.
âThink the neckline is too low?â she asked Araminta.
Araminta was perched on the dresser in front of the mirror, playing with a shiny tube of lipstick. She looked up at the sound of Celindaâs voice and made what Celinda took to be an approving
She gave Araminta another pat. Together they went back inside the apartment and into the little kitchen. Most of the apartments in the Old Quarter were small, and this one was no exception. The buildings had all been constructed during the Colonial era. The First Generation colonists had built their original structures in the shadows of the ancient walls that surrounded each of the four Dead Cities that had been discovered: Old Cadence, Old Resonance, Old Frequency, and Old Crystal.
Over the years, as the new human cities had grown and expanded into the surrounding countrysides the Old Quarter had fallen into decay and disrepair. Many of the neighborhoods with their tight, cramped streets and dark, looming buildings had become home to derelicts, prostitutes, and the down and out.
Although gentrification had begun in certain sections, you could still get a cheap apartment in the Quarter. That fact had figured heavily into Celindaâs decision to rent in the neighborhood. She had been on a very tight budget when she moved to Cadence to start over. But it wasnât cost alone that had brought her to the Quarter. Like most strong para-rez talents, her senses responded pleasantly to the gentle ambient psi that leaked out of the ancient city.
She opened the door of the refrigerator. Together she and Araminta surveyed the contents. There was a large wedge of leftover lasagna, some salad greens, a carton of milk, and a half-empty bottle of wine.
Araminta displayed great interest in the lasagna.
âWell, I was going to have that for my dinner, but since it looks like Iâm eating out tonight, whether I like it or not, you can have the lasagna,â Celinda said.
She spooned the lasagna into Aramintaâs plate on the floor and then went into the bedroom and opened the closet. Her social life had been nonexistent since the debacle in Frequency. She hadnât been inspired to shop for anything more interesting than extremely conservative business suits.
Her choices tonight were limited to two possibilities. The very pink dress sheathed in clear plastic did not count. She was quite certain that once she wore it for her sisterâs wedding, she would never wear it again. Pink was not her color.
She contemplated instead the classic little black dress hanging at the back. It was long-sleeved and had a demure neckline. The last time it had been worn was at a funeral. She pondered it for a long moment. According to Ten Steps to a Covenant Marriage , black was always safe. Furthermore, on a first date elegant was the watchword, not provocative .
On the other hand, there was a fine line between elegant and dull, and as Davis had made clear, this wasnât exactly the start of a Covenant Marriage courtship.
She pushed aside a couple of jackets and studied option number two, a sleek, dark violet number with a deep, off-the-shoulder cowl neckline that could only be described as provocative.
Number two was probably not a good idea. Regardless of how it had started out, this was not a real date.
But a strange recklessness seemed to have replaced her usual good sense. What the heck, the relic was his problem, not hers. This was the first time sheâd been out to dinner with a man in months, and she intended to enjoy it, even if she was breaking all the rules.
She headed for the shower, stripping off her clothes.
Â
AN HOUR LATER SHE INSERTED THE SECOND OF A PAIR OF amber earrings into her ears and stood back to survey the results in the mirror. In spite of the stern lecture she had given herself in the shower, she could not suppress the little thrill of anticipation that shivered through her.
âThink the neckline is too low?â she asked Araminta.
Araminta was perched on the dresser in front of the mirror, playing with a shiny tube of lipstick. She looked up at the sound of Celindaâs voice and made what Celinda took to be an approving
Similar Books
