I looked at him sternly until his eyes caught mine. "Did she tell you to tell me that?"

He hesitated again. "Well ah... I wouldn't... No, she didn't… it's just that... Well, I think it would be a good idea if you waited until tomorrow to call on her sir."

"I've been invited," I said losing my patience. I nudged my way around him.

"But sir, sir," he called out behind me as I walked down the hall toward the stairs. I looked back when I placed the cane on the first step. His impotent, tuxedoed figure stood in the middle of the corridor. He stammered uncontrollably as though he wrestled with words he couldn't bring himself to utter and seemed completely unlike the man I'd come to know in the past three days.

I turned away from him and walked up the stairs, eager to see what the rest of this new home looked like. The stairs opened perpendicular to a corridor that ran the length of the hotel. A long narrow Persian rug covered the floor to each end of the hall and small crystal chandeliers hung above every set of opposing doors. The faint sound of classical music drifted from down the hall to my right. I walked toward the music, looking for her room as I went. The silver plated roman numerals were affixed above each door had no order about them; 11, 20, 4, 15, 26, 2. The music came from 26 at the very end of the hall. I found 17 halfway down the other end. I stood in front of the wooden door for a moment, then knocked lightly. The lingering music seemed to intermingle with low voices. My heart quickened when the doorknob turned, then sank as the door swung open.

A well-built, dark-haired man wearing a red soccer jersey opened the door. He was naked from the waist down and his hairy legs were covered in random scars, scabs, and abrasions. I looked away from his erection and eyed the room beyond. It was different than mine. A large square bed dominated the room. The dark red felt wallpaper matched the luxurious bedspread. The headboard was a large carved wooden half sun that looked as if it rose out of the crimson bed. At least a dozen red and black pillows propped up Poppy's naked body as she lay on the bed. Another man, dressed only in a similar red jersey had his head buried between her thighs as two more kneeled on either side of her on the bed stroking themselves. She looked up at me as she zipped the brown syringe case closed. Her almond eyes were completely calm.

"I wondered when you would show up. Come in, we're just getting started," she said breaking into a sly smile.