Cat In A White Tie And Tails

Max looked at the Vegas he remembered in bits and pieces, compared it to crisp images of bustling Zurich and the mist-blurred landscapes of sweet, savage Ireland and Belfast. This was new territory to his unraveled memory, and he stood isolated, having no remaining remembered intimate connection, except one.

The evening wind blew a wet mist from the fountains across the Strip. Revienne recoiled and then laughed, welcoming the cooling shower.

Max’s hand had automatically gone between her shoulder blades for support and she relaxed into his shoulder.

The Bellagio fountains continued their assault on hot Las Vegas with waves of cool Irish mist.

“My clothes, hair, everything, will be wet, ruined,” Revienne said, laughing. “It’s wonderful!”

He remembered the hardships of their on-foot escape in the Alps.

She turned her face into his shoulder and lifted it, eyes closed to the tiny wet crystals of water dewing her eyelashes, lips, and all that everything that was getting wet.

He wondered if they would get to first names this time. She thought his was Michael, and Garry had told him it actually was, once upon a time.

“You want a return engagement?” Max asked. “Why?”

“Because this is somewhere very special and free, and your strength of will is phenomenal.”

“I’d be much better now.”

“Yes,” she said, smiling even more. “That too.”

Chapter 54

Meddling Belles

“Tell me about the wedding,” Miss Midnight Louise demands. “I understand you wore a sissy white bow tie.”

Louise has buttonholed me while I dallied in the Circle Ritz parking lot, after the wedding party saw the happy couple off to their Crystal Phoenix digs.

I do not mean my business partner literally buttonholed me, but she did stick a tiny but sharp shiv in my black velvet shoulder that gives me pause.

Girls just like to hear about weddings, even if they are fixed.

“Who has ratted on me?” I ask.

“I heard your very own roommate oohing and aahing to Miss Van Von Rhine in this very parking lot about how adorable you looked in white tie and black tail. They were giggling about you revisiting this role again soon.”

Gag me with a can of politically correct, dolphin-safe tuna. I put in my vote for all species forgetting the folderol and eloping … me with Miss Topaz from the Oasis. Now that I am playing Gossip Guy, I will confess that I am so over lion-cut shaved Persians.

“Well.” Miss Louise nudges me. “I want a complete report, down to the wearing apparel, besides yours.”

It is to yawn, but there is only one way I will be left to my own devices.

“The bride was totally drool-worthy. She wore a silky soft, tiered lace-and-ruffle dress that flared below the knee into a mermaid skirt. It was a pale peach mauve color like really diluted blood.

“The bodice featured an oversized soft chiffon bow in back, with the tails reaching all the way to her hips. A pity it will hang in her Chicago closet from now on.”

Louise is as close to swooning as I have ever seen her. “Ummm,” she purrs. “Totally climbable and clawable. A ten on the Shred Scale. What about your roommate?”

“Even better. As maid of honor she wore pale saffron—”

“Saffron?”