Ziggy looked up from where he sat on the couch with his cell in hand. And he just kind of stared.

“What?”

He swallowed.

“Ziggy?”

Still no response. Huh.

My Emporio Armani sleeveless white silk blouse with a cute asymmetric fold neckline, dark blue jeans, and Louboutin leopard print patent leather pumps with four-inch heels delighted me no end. I also wore diamond solitaire stud earrings and a Cartier diamond and stainless steel bracelet watch. My long dark hair was styled into a slick ponytail and glossy red lips and I was good to go wow some rock stars. Or at least make a solid attempt at keeping up with them and their wives. But I couldn’t tell what my bodyguard thought.

He slowly rose to his feet, gaze still stuck on me.

“Are you going to say something?” I asked.

“This what normally happens when you spend two hours in the bathroom?” His voice seemed rougher than normal. Also, this was another distinct break in the usual professional protocol. And I relished it even more than I did getting my greedy hands early on the new season’s heels and matching clutch. Another industry perk. “Sorry, miss. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I laughed. “You haven’t seen me done up before, have you? This is me as Mae Cooper, model. Pleased to meet you.”

He didn’t smile, but little crinkles appeared beside his eyes. Guess it was close enough.

“I don’t even look like her without a few hours’ worth of hair and makeup,” I said with a smile. “Much better than regular old Mae who slums around in old T-shirts with her hair in a messy bun, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“No?”

“No.” And he said nothing more. All of the gorgeous angles of his face stayed in their typical no-emotion setting. Lady Gaga should have just dedicated the song “Poker Face” to him and been done with it.

After Detective Ortega’s visit a few hours ago, it had been nice to have the distraction of a get together to look forward to. Given that the stalker creep had worn gloves, and given them no leads, there wasn’t much they could do. Plus, she probably had way more serious crimes to investigate than me and my unwelcome deliveries. No point dwelling on the situation. I was committed to putting it out of my head. Or at least trying.

“Well, all right then,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Half a dozen people were already hanging out in David and Ev’s apartment. It was basically the same layout as mine, but here the floor boards were painted black, and there were lime green couches. Lou Reed played on the stereo, gold and platinum records lined the hallways, and a plentiful collection of amps and guitars sat on display in one corner. Thankfully, Lena and Jimmy were in attendance so at least I knew them.