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“Nice to meet you, too,” she’d replied, but the lie had been in the sound of her voice, in the look in her eyes She didn’t think it was nice to er to shake hands with a snake as with him, but he’d made some inane remark about what a small world it was, yadda yadda yadda, and she’d said yes, it was, and all the ti there, watchful as a mastiff on alert
Was it because he didn’t like the idea of so? And what the hell did it matter?
Gray parked himself on a teak bench, tucked his chin on his chest, stretched out his long legs and folded his aret near Red She’dnothing, really, just waiting for her to pick up her end of the conversation, but she hadn’t Her eyes had been cool and flat and he’d thought about how much he’d wanted to see what they looked like yesterday, about how he’d stared at that blurry photo and wondered if she’d have her grandmother’s sad, mysterious look, and then he wondered why in hell it should matter That hen his brain went dead, his mouth went dry and he shut up
Red had taken that as her cue to withdraw her hand fro you, Mr Baron,” she’d said “I hope you enjoy your stay with us”
Yeah, he’d said, thanks, he was sure he would
“If there’s anything special I can help you with,” she’d added, but he knew she was on autoless offer to VIP guests at the Desert Song and now, as a matter of courtesy, to him
She’d sain and then she’d turned to O’Connell and murmured that she needed five minutes of his time O’Connell had stuck out his hand and said it had been nicehim and he hoped he’d see him around…
Gray’s mouth twisted
What crap Bull patties, Jonas would say Two brush-offs in twenty-four hours, and there wasn’t a da he could do about it He had to talk with Dawn, size her up without her knowing she was being sized up, although he still couldn’t iinal estimation of her
A high-pitched buzz sounded just beside hihtly jeweled blaze of cri over a crimson flower His mind flashed to a client he’d had years before, a wo and neverher rich as Croesus, old as Methuselah husband He reh Bryant Park with her on a hot summer afternoon while she explained that she’d shot her husband five tiht at a distance of no ht he was an intruder, and while he’d been trying to digest that, she’d suddenly ht and pointed at a bank of flowers and the tiny bird working the blossoms
“A hubird,” she’d said She’d told him the exact kind, too, but Gray couldn’t recall it All he reile creature had flown a couple of thousand one back to cal a description of how she’d had to toss out her favorite silk dress because her husband’s blood ended up all over it
Gray had figured the hureedy wo it to set out of the way and keep on going He felt that way again now What he wanted was to drive straight to the airport and hop a plane that would take hi ti a woh Co a way to sit down and have a conversation with a wo
That hat he’d coas to do, wasn’t it? Talk with Dawn? He wasn’t here because, okay, she had the sarande and then walked away from her own kid…
“Shit,” he said, and he got to his feet, strode back inside the hotel, brushed past a noisy gaggle of wo T-shirts that read Slaves To The Slots and made his way to the little alcove and its fancy desk A sled on the polished fruitwood surface Discreet gold script urged Special Guests needing assistance to pick up the white telephone and press seven seven seven
Gray wasn’t so sure about the “special guests” part, but he definitely needed assistance