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“It’s what Kara calls it,” Dalton says diplomatically.
“Why are there so many goddamn people here?”
“We’re shooting part of Kara’s latest music video on the ride over.”
Our fight forgotten, Nick and I stare at each other in horror. My god, I am not dressed for this! And Nick couldn’t look more out of place in this crowd if he tried.
Dalton’s eyes flick between us. Then he says, “Why don’t I give you some friendly advice? Try not to sound and look so miserable once Kara gets here.”
Nick spreads his lips to show his teeth while keeping his eyes as dead as they were before. I snort back a laugh. He looks like the corpse of a murdered party clown.
Dalton, however, remains unamused. “Look. I want this deal to go down as badly as you do. But Kara is stubborn and there’s only so much I can do to sway her. Most of it is going to have to come from you.”
“And we’re very happy to be given the opportunity,” I say as brightly as I can to counteract Nick.
Unfortunately, Dalton looks even more unhappy. “And Kara can sense disingenuousness a mile away. So I’d stuff that tone of voice back in the closet.”
Okay, ouch. But he’s also not wrong.
Nick throws up his hands. “We can’t look unhappy. We can’t fake being happy! What the hell do you want us to do exactly?”
Dalton arches a single dark eyebrow. “Maybe try to actually enjoy yourself?”
Someone from the crew calls out to him and he starts to go, but then stops and says, “The back of the plane is where Kara’s VIPs are hanging out. She asked me to send you both back there.” Then he nods politely and is gone.
I want to go with him. Instead I’m stuck here with Nick.
“To the back then?” he asks. I nod. It’s better than staying here. We’re starting to attract glances.
I’m very aware of my sweats as we walk the length of the plane. Not only are they stunningly uncool compared to this group, but it’s also about eighty-five degrees in here with all the people. I’m starting to sweat and I hope to god it’s not visible through the thick cloth. Sweat stains are about the last thing I need right now on top of everything.
The VIP section isn’t quite at the back of the plane. I’d estimate it’s about three-quarters of the way down. Behind the roped-off semicircle of couches is a wall with a curtained hall in the center, no doubt leading to an even more exclusive section of the plane.
Nick and I approach the rope and Carl, the giant guard from the strip club, lets us in without a word. Strewn about on the couches are many of the same faces that had been at the club, with a few new ones added, and one very significant one missing.
“Where’s Kara?” Nick and I wonder aloud at the same time. We look at each other and then look away just as quickly. This would be so much easier if we were a united front.
“She’s on her way,” a girl calls. She’s one of the people who were at the strip club. Slender and not far out of her teens, she has an intricate rose and thorn tattoo snaking up her left arm. “Sit down,” she invites us, nodding at a couple open spots near her.
Well someone’s being welcoming at least. And the music isn’t quite so loud over here. I sink down into the plush couch. Maybe this trip won’t actually be so bad. Or, at the very least, it probably won’t get much worse.
The thought has barely entered my head when I look across to the opposite couch and see someone I recognize. And I don’t mean from Bogart’s. I’ve met this man a long time ago, somewhere in Boston.
He’s a very, very tall muscular man with dark eyes and a buzz cut. He’s wearing a lot of jewelry around his neck and diamonds in his ears, and it’s odd that I know him and can’t place him immediately because he’s very distinctive.
“Don’t stare,” the rose-tattooed girl advises. “He hates it.”
“Who?” I ask, half-hearing her. My danger signals are going off for some reason, but I’m still utterly in the dark.
“Uh, Dax Thompson? The guy you’re staring at?”
“He plays for the Celtics,” Nick adds unhelpfully. Because of course I know that. Because that’s where I’d met him, courtside at the Garden.
“Why… Why?” I manage to get out.
“Why what?” Rose Tattoo asks, looking confused and a bit like she’s regretting talking to us.
“Why is he here?!”
