Inside, the Blossom was surprisingly trendy and neon. There was absolutely nothing reminiscent of blossoms or flowers. I had expected murals of cherry trees or at least a few potted plants. The bar was outlined by fuchsia light tubes, and the walls were painted a light gray. A sound system played anonymous white dance music. The place was packed with prosperous-looking Korean businessmen in dark blue suits and imported ties. There were no Mexican or Central American customers. All of the women I saw on the dance floor were oriental.

“This doesn’t look very promising,” I snapped at Lupe.

“Yeah, well, you figure it out. I’ll be in the bathroom.”

Sighing, I turned to make my way to the bar. None of the men I passed at the tables along the way looked at me with more than a second’s flash of interest. I threw my chest out and told myself it didn’t bother me. All of the stools along the bar were occupied by oriental women in slinky dresses and by overfed businessmen. I saw the only empty table, away from the dance floor, and headed for it. As I seated myself, I looked out across the dance floor and saw one thin black woman dancing. So they did hire women who were not oriental. Then I saw a latina with an older gentleman shaking herself in a quickstepping but fluid motion. During the next two numbers I studied all the women.

“You like something from the bar?”

I looked up at the waitress who stood beside the table. She was short and curvy, with long black hair and a short black dress.

“Two martinis.”

She turned away.

“Miss?”

She turned back with an artificially patient look and readjusted the drink tray with empty glasses that she held in her left hand.

“Can you tell me if there’s a woman named Carmen working here?”

“Carmen? No Carmen. Two martinis, yes?” She started to turn away again.

“Any Mexican women?”

“Only Mexican girl, Maria.” She pointed out onto the dance floor to the latina I had already seen. “Here the men like Korean girl. Japanese girl.” She gave me a look that said I was wasting her time and hurried away.

“That was very nicely handled,” said Lupe, who reappeared at that moment and took the chair opposite mine. “Good thing you’re not planning on becoming a detective. But I think she’s telling you the truth. I took a quick walk around and didn’t see anybody latina. Let’s get out of here.”

“I just ordered a couple of drinks,” I fumed, not wanting her criticisms. It was her idea we come here. She had insisted on it and pushed me into it.

“I don’t want another one.”

“Well, I do and I just ordered them, so we’re going to sit here and drink them.”