Love Is Pink! by Roxann Hill

front desk, and again found ourselves in the middle of a bitterly cold, moonlit winter night.
    “Where did you park the Citroën?” I asked. Breaths of smoke rose up with every word I said.
    “If I’d parked in front of the hotel, they’d immediately have towed it, so I drove it to the grounds of a nearby construction company. I’m very familiar with the way construction companies operate. The parking spaces are only used during the day. At night, it makes no difference who parks there.”
    “Well, as long as you’re sure about that,” I said.
    David pointed the way. He dragged my suitcase and carried his duffel bag. Emma hopped up and down next to me like she was on a trampoline. We crossed the street, walked down a private road, and stood in front of a two-meter-tall steel gate.
    David let go of my suitcase and scratched his head.
    “What is it?” I asked.
    He pointed to the barrier. “That wasn’t there last night.”
    “Of course not, you idiot,” I said. “It’s the company driveway. Naturally, it’s open during the day. At night no one comes, and then the y . . . ” I paused to make a sliding motion with my hand before concluding, “Then they shut it.”
    “Shit!” David swore.
    “Cover your ears, Emma,” I said. She immediately pressed her hands to her head and chanted, “Shit, shit, shit.”
    “We need to get in there,” I said. “We have to get the car, and we have to be out of here by six—at the latest. That’s when the hotel’s early shift starts, and they review the invoices and credit card charges from the day before. If that happens, we’re—”
    “Screwed,” David said.
    “Screwed,” Emma sang out. “We’re screwed, screwed—shit, we’re screwed!”
    “I’m going to climb over it.” David dropped his duffel bag and prepared to climb over the steely obstacle before us.
    “It’s too high. You’ll never make it,” I said.
    He jumped, clutched the top corner, and pulled himself up with a groan. He almost succeeded, but he lost his footing and slipped slowly and mercilessly to the ground.
    “What is this?” Emma said to me while tugging at my jacket.
    “Let go, Emma,” I answered shortly. “Not now. I need to help your papa.”
    “It might work with a ladder,” David said, staring up at it with a skeptical look.
    “What’s this button here for?” asked Emma.
    “Don’t touch anything!” I hissed, but it was already too late.
    The button made a click when Emma pushed it. Then we heard a buzz, and the loud noise of an electric motor.
    “For heaven’s sake,” I said. “Make it stop. You’ll wake up the entire neighborhood.” That’s when I realized that the gate was sliding open.
    Emma’s little hand pushed the button again. The motor stopped. The gate had opened enough for a person to slip through it.
    “Clever child!” David said proudly. “We should have figured there’d be a gadget like that. I’ll go in and get the car. When you see the headlights, open the door completely.” He’d already begun to push himself through the gap.
    “Be careful,” I warned him.
    “What danger could there be now?” he said. “In the blink of an eye, I’ll be back with the car and we’ll continue our journey. Nothing can stop us.”
    David disappeared into the lot. His steps crunched over the snow. I waited to hear the Citroën’s obligatory bang as it started. Instead, someone yelled, “Damn it!” And then again, “Damn it!” And then, “Open the gate, quick!”
    Emma tried to follow the order, but she got flustered and couldn’t immediately find the button.
    Through the opening, I saw David running toward us—he was practically flying. I don’t think I’d ever seen a person run that fast before. A dark shadow raced behind him. Metal clanged. A deep, angry bark cut through the night. Fractions of a second later, David squeezed through the gap and stooped next to us gasping for air.
    On the other side of the gate, several meters away, a large