“That was in the beginning,” said Neil. “Then I did two years at Marie Callender’s.” Grin. “All the pie you can eat, man I was getting fat. Then I lost that and signed up with the temp agency and they sent me here. Too bad it’s only one night. This is a cool old place.”

“Sure is. Too bad they’re tearing it down.”

“Yeah … but that’s the way it is, right? Old stuff dies.”

“We’ll take those drinks, now. And those almonds, if you have them.”

“Last time I checked we did, but you never know.”

As he turned to leave, the girl in white slipped on oversized, gold-framed sunglasses with lenses so dark they had to be blinding her. Sucking on her cigarette, she twirled the holder, stretched coltish legs, ran a finger along the side of a clean, smooth jaw. Licked her lips.

Red Jacket watched her, transfixed.

Robin said, “She is beautiful, Neil.”

He wheeled. “So are you, ma’am. Um … oh, man, sorry, that came out weird. Sorry.”

Robin touched his hand. “Don’t worry about it, dear.”

“Um, I better get you those drinks.”

When he was gone, I said, “See, you’ve still got it going on.”

“He probably looks at me like I’m his mother.”

I hummed “Mrs. Robinson.” She kicked me harder. But not enough to hurt. Our relationship’s not that complicated.

Chapter 3

he Sidecar devolved to a Screwdriver, the Chivas was a whiskey slushy, overwhelmed by crushed ice.

We laughed and I tossed bills on the table and we got up to leave.

From across the room, Neil held up his palms in a What-me-worry gesture. I pretended not to notice.

As we passed Snow White, her eyes met mine. Big, dark, moist. Not seductive.

Welling with tears?

Her lower lip dropped, then clamped shut. She avoided my glance and smoked single-mindedly.

Suddenly her getup seemed sad, nothing but a costume.

Neil nearly tripped over himself bringing the check but when he saw the cash, he detoured to Snow White’s table.

She shook her head and he slinked off.

A commercial for ecologically sound detergent rasped the smoky air.

When we got back outside, Dudley Do-Right was gone.

Robin said, “Guess we were wrong about Snowy being his charge.”

“Guess we were wrong about taking a final jaunt on the Titanic. Let’s go somewhere else and try to redeem the night.”

She took my arm as we headed for the Seville. “Nothing to redeem. I’ve got you, you’ve got me, and despite those killer legs, that poor little thing has no one. But sure, some real drinks would be nice. After that, we’ll see what develops.”

“Mistress of suspense,” I said.

She tousled my hair. “Not really, you know the ending.”