Holiday Escort Read Free Page A

offering a large amount of room for Karen to pull in. If she preferred the stall I had just taken, I could move my car.
    The entrance from the garage into the house was unlocked. As soon as I entered, I heard the beeping from the alarm. I punched in the code and the beeping stopped.
    I gave myself a tour.
    The first room, the entrance from the garage, was the laundry room. Sink, washer and dryer to the left, closet to the right. Stepping through that room I entered the kitchen. I stopped and stared.
    The kitchen was amazing. Spotless and amazing. There was a large center island with a sink and a cook top. Above the island was a glass and stainless steel hood. She had a wall-mounted double oven and a huge refrigerator. Two doors from the kitchen led into a pair of pantries. One held cooking equipment; pots and pans, a variety of electrics, that sort of thing. The other was for food and was half empty.
    There was an informal dining area right next to the kitchen which immediately opened into a fabulous great room, meticulously decorated, if perhaps somewhat sterile. Past that was a room Karen clearly used as a home office. Also on the main floor was a second entertaining area and a formal dining room.
    I headed upstairs. The upstairs was basically two wings separated by a catwalk overlooking the great room on one side and the front foyer on the other . One wing was clearly Karen's room. I snooped very lightly. The other wing held a full bathroom and two bedrooms, both fully furnished. I walked back and forth between the two bedrooms and wondered which one I was supposed to take. Finally I decided to take the one with the biggest closet.
    I headed back to the main floor, then decided to investigate the basement. I descended the stairs and stopped, stunned.
    Her basement had nine-foot ceilings, and the largest room was fully finished as a dance hall. There was one more bedroom, a bathroom, the utility room, a large storage room, and a small closet that was being used as a wine cellar. I stared at the bottles for a moment before going back to the dance hall.
    I walked across the floor. It was a sprung floor! I kicked off my shoes, stretched for a moment, then did a half-remembered ballet dance pass across the floor. I hadn't done it in fifteen years, I wasn't wearing proper clothing, and I barely remembered the dance, but it felt amazing.
    I walked around the room and marveled.
    One wall was mirrored with a ballet barre mounted firmly to it. At the end of the room were built in cabinets holding a stereo system. She had a computer connected to the stereo , so I presumed all her music was on the computer. I looked in the cabinets and found rows and rows of CDs, all of them dance music. It was organized by style. The largest shelf was devoted to Tango.
    I stared at all of it then closed it all up, turned the lights off, and headed back upstairs, carrying my shoes.
    I stepped into the kitchen and considered. I pulled out my phone and Karen's business card and sent her a text message. "OMG. The dance floor. OMG. OMG. OMG."
    I sent a second text, this one somewhat more serious. "Do you care which bedroom I take? If not, I'll take the one in back; it has a larger closet. But maybe you prefer hiding me downstairs."
    I got a response to the first message. "LOL. Wish I could see your expression. Glad you like it.
    Then I received, "Take whichever bedroom you like."
    I texted once more. "Is there a wireless network?"
    The reply said, "Password is BackOcho ". A back ocho is a tango dance move.
    * * *
    It took me an hour to move my stuff to my bedroom and unpack. I moved my bathroom things into the bathroom, but stored it in the available drawers rather than leaving it all over the counter like I normally do. Then I looked around.
    The decorating sucked. Okay, it didn't suck. It was very tasteful. The entire house was tasteful. But it was boring. It was sterile. I hated it.
    She had told me to decorate for Christmas. I'd talk to her tonight