Page 42 of Making His Bones

She said, “That’s club business.”

My phone dinged, and I read the response from Galileo.

Galileo: I hate to say, Elektra, but some guy on the ground just shot at him. Gray crashed into some bushes in the middle of the Pitchfork property. Exult O shores and ring O bells!

I didn’t want to keep reading about how cold and dead Gray was, so I, too, stormed over to the group by the door. I butted right on in, not caring how un-old ladylike it was. “Lytton,” I said, speaking to the senior member present, “please tell me what’s going on. Gray’s my old man. Please. I know he got a wingsuit in the mail.” I acted innocent. “Has he crashed?”

Lytton shared tense-jawed looks with Fox. He was saved from having to answer when the front door slammed open, followed by the double doors.

The wind and the bang of the double doors startled even Wolf. From his Hulk posture, he cringed into a ball of claws and beaks, a bird making himself small. Fox even jumped. Lytton was the only one who stood tall against the new intruder. And man, what an intruder he was.

A classically handsome man with silver-black wavy hair, he waltzed in as though he swished a cape. His arms were poised in ballet poses, but his shiny white vinyl boots told me was more plebian. Indeed, his belt matched his shoes, and his lavender button-down shirt was set off by a matching scarf with geometric designs around his neck. The only anomaly to this picture-perfect man was the slice out of the helix of one ear. But he drew attention to this disfigurement by studding his lobe with the flashiest diamond.

“It is I,” he announced unnecessarily in a very thick Spanish accent, “back from the glamorous acting world in Mexico City!”

Oh no. Not another actor.

I resented this unrelated intrusion. I tried taking Lytton by the arm to lead him away from the drama—literally, the drama—but he wouldn’t budge. Like everyone, he seemed completely amused by this fellow.

“Were you really acting?” asked Lytton. “That was the word on the street, though I never saw any shows of yours.”

“Yes!” the actor snapped grandly, looking down his nose at Lytton. He had balls to do that. “I was given a big part in the most popular telenovela, Prohibido Mojarse!”

The scraggly guy frowned. “It is forbidden to get wet?”

That popped a hole in the flamboyant guy’s bubble. “Yes. Well. It does not translate well.”

“What do you play,” goofed Fox, “a lifeguard?”

Everyone, even Wolf, cracked up as the actor’s bubble deflated even more. But he quickly picked himself back up again, swishing his imaginary cape. “I have one of the top roles playing Manuel Obligado, a dashing playboy and man of mystery!”

“Kind of like the real you,” pointed out Wolf.

“Exactly! The producers figured why go through the hassle of creating a whole new character for Santiago Slayer”—everyone gasped, so Santiago quickly calmed them down—“I mean Santiago Segovia, when we can just allow his true character to inform the role?”

“Yes, yes,” said Lytton, “that makes sense. But how do you keep your actor persona separate from your Santiago Slayer persona?”

Santiago Slayer? That was his real name? Was he a slayer of women? A real lady-killer? I hopped around on my toes, antsy to address the Gray issue.

Santiago whipped out his phone and proudly thumbed to a photo. Everyone strained to see it, so I did, too. He was in makeup for his telenovela role. He looked the same to me, except they’d augmented his hair into a kind of Elvis pompadour and darkened his eyebrows. Santiago grinned at his cell as though it were a mirror and his teeth would gleam.

I tugged Lytton’s cut again. “Lytton, Lytton, can I talk to you?”

Lytton shrugged me off. “So you’re just passing through town?”

Now Unity tugged my sleeve. “Elektra, stop. Get out of their business.”

Sliding his phone into its holster, Santiago drew back dramatically. He made a picture frame with his hands. “I would’ve been here sooner, but I was a victim of penis captivus.”

I sputtered. “Penis—what?”

For the first time, he looked at me. “Yes! It’s a real thing!” He explained to his audience. “Imagine this. You’re making grand, beautiful love with a fellow actress. I mean not on camera, although we have often been known to use cameras too. I was humping her so beautifully that she became completely carried away.”

“Oh, please,” I muttered.

“When she climaxed, my penis was also so enormous and hard that her contractions completely squeezed me!” Santiago’s fist demonstrated. “We were like two amorous dogs locked together!”

“Yeah, but only for a few seconds,” said Wolf.