ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT? (Running Wild) by Bobby Hutchinson Page A

immediately.
    “Don’t be shy, sweetie. I don’t bite unless you want me to.”
    "I’m not... I mean, actually, I wanted to speak to India. Please. Is she there?”
    “She’s not available just now. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me?” A little girl giggle. “I’m really quite entertaining when you get to know me.”
    Damn, blast, double, triple damn. The disappointment he felt was way out of proportion, and that troubled him.
    This is an assignment, Watson, he reminded himself. Why should it matter whether he talked to India tonight or tomorrow or next week? The questions he’d wanted to ask would wait. There wasn't a single valid reason for feeling so let down.
    Except that he’d come to rely heavily on these nightly conversations, he admitted reluctantly.
    “If you should hear from India, would you tell her Harold called, please?”
    There was a pause, and then Lilith said carefully, “Is there a number where she could reach you? If I should just happen to hear from her?”
    “Yeah." He recited his number without much hope. India was paid on the basis of incoming calls. No way in hell would she call him.
    He hung up and tried to work on the newsletter an insurance agency had hired him to write, but after five minutes he knew it was hopeless. Frustrated and unable to concentrate, he got up and went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and scanned the contents for something to fill the sudden void in his gut. He settled on a slab of cold pizza and cracked a beer, taking both back to his office.
    His mouth was full of cheese and mushrooms when the phone rang. He swigged a gulp of beer, swallowed hard, and snatched it up.
    “Harold, I heard you were trying to reach me.” The deep, honeyed voice was like soothing balm to his nerves.
    “India." His spirits went straight from dismal to exuberant. "I’m so glad it’s you. Want me to call you back on your business number?”
    "No, that's not necessary.” There was a moment's pause. "Actually, I’m calling you from my private line."
    Harry understood that her admission subtly altered their relationship. This was the moment to try to push it even further, to do what Sullivan had suggested and try to arrange an actual meeting. He was about to go where he hadn’t ventured before, but there were some things he had to know first. He didn’t relish the thought of getting his head bashed in by some hulk of a jealous boyfriend.
    "India, is there someone special in your life?” That sounded nosy, so he quickly qualified it. "I mean, do you have a husband or a live-in lover or a guy you date regularly?”
    “Not anyone special. At the moment." After a moment’s hesitation she said a little defensively, "I do date, of course.”
    He was filled with relief. “Of course.”
    "But there’s nobody special. Not in that sense.”
    He didn’t ask her what she meant. He was too busy trying to figure out the logistics of what he was going to suggest next.
    “India, I wondered . . . That is, I know this is a long shot, but.. . would you consider going out with me?" His heart was hammering and his throat was dry. “Dinner, dancing, maybe a show, anything, whatever you’d enjoy the most. . .”
    His hands were sweating. He hadn't taken anyone on a date for so long, it made him horribly nervous even to ask, and the long silence that followed didn’t help at all. She was going to refuse; he just knew it. His heart plummeted.
    “Gee whiz, I don't know, Harold.”
    He had to grin, because he hadn’t heard anyone say gee whiz in a long time, and it was so unlike her usual sexy sophistication, it caught him off guard. And he was also grinning because she hadn’t outright refused, had she?
    “I know there are probably all sorts of rules about not dating customers,” he said in the most reasonable tone he could manage. “I can see how necessary that would be, but I think you can tell that I’m not an ax murderer or a rapist or anyone who'd hurt you in any way. I just