"We'll be fine with it," Lex said quietly. "The main thing is to keep Gillian safe, right, Dante?"
Dante had the good grace to look ashamed of himself. "Well, sure. Sorry, Gillian. Lex is absolutely right. Gotta put things in perspective. Dressing up like nerds is only a temporary thing, whereas dead is forever."
Gillian choked on her martini. When all eyes turned in her direction, she waved off their concern. "I'm okay. Just swallowed wrong."
"I would imagine so." Cora leveled a stern glance at Dante. "We'll have no more of that talk."
"That's for damned sure." Lex's position had changed from relaxed to extremely alert. "No one is going to die, and that's final."
Gillian's pulse rate slowed as fear loosened its grip. Hearing Lex's confident reassurance helped enormously. "I appreciate you saying that," she said.
"Just stating the obvious." He met her gaze with those startlingly blue eyes.
Even without her glasses, she picked up on the strong sense of purpose in his gaze. And there was something else, something zinging back and forth between the two of them. Her tummy quivered in response. She hadn't felt that kind of sexual tug in ages, and wouldn't you know, she couldn't hang around to take advantage of it.
"I should probably get the brochure," Cora said. "That will explain it better than I can." She got up from the sofa and hurried down the hallway.
"This is totally weird," Dante said. "I've never heard of a nerd cruise before. Who would think of such a thing?"
"I'm guessing the grandson's a nerd," Gillian said.
"Oh, I'm sure." Dante rolled his eyes. "But why would Cora want to go?"
Gillian thought about Cora's latest voice mail. Nope. Didn't want to go there. "I'm sure it's reasonably priced. And she might be trying to do the grandparents a favor."
"Here we go." Cora swept back into the room and handed the brochure to Lex. "Read all about it."
Lex glanced at it and handed it over to Dante.
"Hm." Dante studied the brochure. "It says here, 'the cruise is designed specifically for single members of Mensa who are looking for a chance to meet that special someone in an atmosphere of intellectual stimulation and camaraderie.'" He paused and looked at Cora. "Are you in Mensa? I never knew that."
"No, of course I'm not. That isn't a requirement. The idea is to create an environment where supersmart people, or those who want to hang around them, feel comfortable." Cora sipped her drink. "I think it's a marvelous idea."
"I think it's whacked," Dante said. "I mean, cruises are supposed to be fun, but how can you have fun with, and I quote, 'mentally challenging activities with an emphasis on brain power' ?"
Lex sighed. "Dante, we're not there to have fun. We're there to protect Gillian."
"And speaking of Gillian, what's up there?" Dante's appreciative glance moved over her. "She most definitely doesn't look like a nerd."
"That's on purpose," Cora said. "I'm introducing her as my companion, so she doesn't have to look nerdy. There will be two kinds of people on this cruise, the nerds and those who aren't nerds but hope to hook up with one. The second category will be mostly female."
Dante looked confused. "I don't get it. Why would any woman deliberately look for a nerd?"
"Because," Cora said. "All the research I've done shows that—"
"Nerds are faithful." Gillian nudged Cora with her bare foot. She'd rather not have Cora launch into a description of nerds and their superior sexual skills.
Dante seemed to accept that explanation. "Faithful is good, I guess. Especially if you're thinking long-term commitment."
"Or short-term commitment." Cora laughed. "I'm eighty-two years old. At my age, long-term commitment is a vague description at best. It could be six years or six months, depending on the EKG."
Lex sat up straightening "You're really looking?"
"I am, and if I were forty years younger, I'd look no further than you, my darling."
Red crept up Lex's neck, which Gillian found cute as the dickens.
Dante nodded wisely. "So you picked up on it, too, huh? Our Lex has nerd tendencies. I didn't tweak to that until a few minutes ago, but once you think about it, he has all the signs."
"I'm not even going to comment." Lex took a big swallow of his martini.
Dante jerked his thumb in Lex's direction. "He doesn't want to admit it, but I have evidence. Back in high school, before I stopped him, he was going to join the chess club and the Honor Society. I rest my case."
"I was in Honor Society," Gillian said before she could stop herself. "But that doesn't mean I consider myself a nerd. I'm certainly not in Mensa," she added quickly. After all, she was dressed in Marilyn clothes, and she had Marilyn hair. She was—at least temporarily—very cool.
"My point exactly," Lex said.
"But we're going undercover as nerds," Dante said. "How do we do that?"
"I suppose you could start with glasses," Gillian said.
Lex groaned. "Cliché."
"I know, but it'll work, at least for a few days." Gillian hated to think of how short her association with Lex would be. Instead she concentrated on helping these two hotties turn themselves into geeks. "Your haircuts are too good." The thought of Lex's silky dark hair getting massacred made her cringe, but it couldn't be helped.
Dante's eyes widened. "I have to get a bad haircut? Damn."
"You don't really mind, do you?" Cora asked, an edge to her voice. "Compared to saving Gillian's life ..."
"Of course I don't mind." Dante sounded like a little boy who'd been scolded for leaving his bike in the driveway. "Whatever it takes, that's what we'll do."
"Then get some mismatched clothes," Gillian said. "A discount department store should work." She got a kick out of seeing Dante wince. Lex remained stoic, as if an ugly wardrobe was beneath his notice. Gillian didn't think the clothes had been made that would disguise Lex's innate sexuality.
"And we need you to go over to Gillian's apartment tomorrow and pick up whatever she needs for the trip," Cora said. "Be discreet." She snapped her fingers. "I know! You can disguise yourselves as exterminators."
"Bug thugs," Dante said without enthusiasm. "This just gets better and better."
Cora lifted her eyebrows and gave him a warning glance. "Dante, I—"
"Don't worry," Lex said. "Dante will do what needs to be done. Right, partner?"
"Absolutely," Dante said. "What do you need from your apartment, Gillian?"
"My contacts, and . . ." She wouldn't have been able to mention this if she hadn't been wearing Marilyn clothes and Marilyn hair. "And my underwear."
BY SOME MIRACLE DANTE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ELSE that was terminally stupid before Lex got him out the door. Lex had the key to Gillian's apartment and the list of what they needed to bring her in his pocket.
"First stop, Kinko's," Lex said.
"You got a sudden urge to copy something?"
"No. We need to see if they can do a rush order on a couple of magnetic signs for the white van we're going to rent in the morning for our exterminator gig."
"Oh." Dante nodded. "Good thinking."
"Thanks. And speaking of thinking, can you start putting your brain in gear before you open your mouth?"
"Yeah, that was bad when I alluded to her getting dead."
"Did you notice she went white as a sheet? We're supposed to make her feel protected, not scare her out of her wits. For God's sake, Dante."
"I know, I know. I'll work on it." He paused. "You really like her, don't you?"
You have no idea. "That's not important."
"Buddy, it's always important, especially in your case. You haven't fallen for that many chicks in your life. I haven't seen you this perky since Mary Jo Simpson, and that was, what? Three years ago?"
"Three and a half." Lex had dated since then, but nothing had lasted. He guessed the term for it was casual sex, which had left him feeling sort of empty. There was nothing casual about his interest in Gillian.
"It's a s
hame she's a client," Dante said.
"If she hadn't become a client, I never would have met her, so there you go."
"You might've. She's friends with Cora, and we're friends with Cora. If Gillian hadn't had the bad luck to witness this murder, the two of you might have run into each other at Cora's sometime."
Lex would rather not think of that possibility. It hadn't happened that way, so no sense in wishing for things that couldn't be.
Dante was silent for a while. "You really can't swim?" he asked finally. "Nope."
"How did I miss that in all the years we've known each other?"
"I made sure I always played a manly game of volleyball in the shallow end."
Dante gazed at him. "You covered really well. I never put it all together before. I mean, you were just my friend, and I was saving you from making stupid mistakes, but without me, you probably would have turned into a first-class nerd."
"I wouldn't say that." Lex drove five miles over the speed limit, just to show he wasn't all that geeky.
"I would." Dante looked at his partner as if seeing him for the first time. "But I saved you. I need to give myself credit for that."
"You go ahead and do that."
"The thing is, you being a nerd could come in handy for this assignment. Do you think you could revert back?"
"I'm not, nor have I ever been, a nerd!"
"Thanks to me, that's true. But unlike me, you at least had nerd tendencies, once upon a time. If you could tap into those, you could be in charge of the nerd factor on this gig."
Lex felt a tension headache coming on. Between guarding a woman who looked like Gillian and dredging up his long-buried nerdiness, he had quite a week ahead of him.
Four
GIVE A WOMAN A COUPLE OF APPLETINIS AND SHE'LL tell you anything. Neil had learned that early in his cross-dressing career, and when you threw in the element of dishing with the girls, there were no secrets left after the second round. Nancy, looking extremely trendy in her short black dress, was considered one of the girls. The barflies who hung out at the Swingin' Monkey had never guessed otherwise.
Neil had been careful never to hit on any of the guys here, because this club was his place to gather industry information. Another club, far from this particular Hollywood hangout, was his source of liaisons. Men there appreciated surprises. The Swingin' Monkey catered to a more conservative, definitely hetero crowd.
Thanks to Heather and Joanie, two of the makeup artists working on the Some Like It Hot project, Neil had an overview of the entire makeup crew. He'd never paid much attention to makeup artists before, thinking they were beneath his notice. Now he wished he had a better working knowledge of the breed. For all he knew, the person who'd seen him leaving Theo's dressing room was someone who'd done his makeup once upon a time.
At least tonight he'd ruled out Heather and Joanie, who wouldn't be here slurping appletinis and spreading studio gossip if they'd recently witnessed a murder. And one of the crew was a guy. Phil had said the witness was a woman. That left either Eileen or Gillian.
Eileen was an older woman who lived in Van Nuys and supported a disabled son. Gillian lived alone in an apartment in Burbank and hung out with Cora Bledsoe a lot, according to Heather. Cora had been trying to get Gillian to go on a nerd cruise, which told Neil that Gillian might be something of a nerd, herself.
Now that he'd narrowed the field to two, whichever one didn't come to work in the morning would be his girl. To find that out, he needed a reason to see Heather or Joanie tomorrow.
He slipped off the bar stool. "Okay, Heather and Joanie, you're my friends. Tell me honestly, do these shoes look hideous with this dress?"
Heather gave him the once-over. "They look okay."
"I think Manolo Blahniks are a little overexposed." Joanie went back to her appletini. "But if you're a Manolo fan, go for it."
Neil controlled his irritation. The bitches. They wouldn't know a good shoe if it bit them in the ass. But he'd counted on this reaction.
With a dramatic sigh, he propped his foot up on the bar stool. He loved doing things like that, showing off his crotch for anyone who cared to look. They wouldn't see anything they didn't expect. His taping job was always perfect.
"I knew these shoes were wrong!" he said. "I want to wear this dress to a funeral this weekend, and I need better shoes."
"Somebody died?" Heather tried to look sad, but she burst out laughing. "I'm sorry. Too many 'tinis, I guess. Of course somebody died, but here you are worried about the right shoes. You must not be all broken up about it."
"Actually, I'm not. The world's better off, if you know what I mean."
Joanie rolled her eyes. "Don't I ever. Isn't there a shoe sale at Nordstrom's?"
Neil closed the trap. "You know, there is! Listen, if either of you could get away for thirty minutes tomorrow and help me pick out something, I'd be so grateful. I'd even spring for drinks tomorrow night."
"It's a deal," Joanie said. "I'll figure out some excuse to leave. I could say that whatever they brought in for lunch made me sick. I need shoes, and I might find something for myself while I'm at it."
"Can't go." Heather rolled her neck. "Joanie can play Russian roulette with her job if she wants, but I'm staying on the job all day."
"Then it's Joanie and me," Neil said.
"Right," Joanie said. "Two girls in search of the perfect funeral shoes."
Neil clicked his glass against hers. "Proving once and for all that mourning and fashion statements are not mutually exclusive."
He wasn't lying about attending a funeral, either. Assuming he took care of his nosy little witness, he'd be attending Theo's funeral and loving every minute of it. Or rather, Nancy would be attending. And she really did need a pair of killer shoes for the occasion. Ha, ha. He cracked himself up sometimes.
BETWEEN TOO MUCH BOOZE AND WAY TOO MUCH stress, Gillian didn't sleep much. Every hour or so, she'd wake up in Cora's guest room scented with lavender and wonder where she was. Then she'd remember Theo and the Mob.
She'd touch her hair to make sure it was shorter. As she lay in the dark she'd think about Lex Manchester and wonder what he'd be like on a cruise. He didn't seem like a cruisin' sort of guy.
But then, she wasn't a cruisin' sort of gal, either. This blond person she'd turned into was a fake. Soon the dark roots would begin to show, and she'd start wearing her glasses instead of her contacts, and the glamour would disappear. Lex had shown an interest in her blond self, but he might not have the same reaction to the real Gillian.
At the moment her life felt more like a movie than reality, but in a movie, she'd end up with the hunky hero at the end. Plus, there would be a soundtrack, and nothing but silence played in the darkness surrounding her. She thought about Cora's security system and wondered if the Mob would be able to get around that. Seemed like they would have no problem with an ordinary security system.
With that she turned on a light and started reading one of the issues of Variety Cora had left on the nightstand. That's how she woke up the next morning, with a crumpled magazine under her cheek and the light still on. She'd dreamed of living in a mud hut and plucking chickens. Then the Blues Brothers had shown up ready to haul her off to meet the Godfather.
She was relieved to see sunlight coming through the bedroom window and smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. Maybe the cruise was a good idea, after all. There would be a boatload of people around, and she could take refuge in that. So long as she didn't allow herself to become isolated, she'd be fine.
Feeling a little hungover and a lot decadent in the silk pajamas Cora had loaned her, she walked down the hall, through the Art Deco living room, and into the kitchen. Cora was sitting at the diner booth she'd bought a year ago when they were auctioning memorabilia from American Graffiti. She wore a purple caftan this morning as she sipped from her coffee mug and held a cordless phone to her ear. Trip reservation papers were spread out in front of her on the aluminum-edged, white Formica tabletop.
>
"Maybe I should speak to Jared, then," she said. "Yes, I'll wait." She covered the mouthpiece and glanced up at Gillian with a smile. "Little twerp. I remember when he was still picking boogers out of his nose, but now that his grandparents have put him in charge of this cruise, he thinks he's Aristotle Onassis."
"Are you having trouble booking the cabin for Lex and Dante at this late date?"
"Oh, I can book it, although they said it's the last available cabin. I guess Jared's been beating the bushes for passengers. And the reservations person doesn't want to guarantee Lex and Dante will be right next to us. Help yourself to coffee. I should be through in— Hello?" She turned her attention to the phone. "Jared? Sounds as if you have a hit with this cruise idea of yours! I'm thrilled for you. Yes, your grandmother told me you've been working on the concept day and night."
Gillian found a Star Wars mug in the cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. Glancing at the clock, she realized that on a normal day she'd be going in to work right now. The rest of the crew would be arriving, and any time now somebody would find Theo. She wondered if he'd look the same, but probably not. Bodies changed over time. She really didn't want to think about that.
She should have called in sick last night. By not showing up today, she might even be … yikes ... casting suspicion on herself! Had she touched anything in the dressing room? She didn't think so. But she wanted Cora off the phone ASAP so they could discuss this.
"Jared, you're a genius." Cora hesitated as the man on the other end responded. "Um, yes, I know you're literally a genius, but I meant that as a casual comment, not an evaluation." She paused again. "You bet. I most certainly did know that you are in Mensa. Well done."
Gillian waited impatiently for the call to end.
"Thanks so much, Jared," Cora said. "I truly appreciate the favor of putting Mr. Manchester and Mr. Fiorello in the cabin next to mine. They're socially backward, unlike yourself, and they'll appreciate having me close by to coach them during the cruise. See you this afternoon by four. Give my love to your grandparents. Bye-bye." She pushed the disconnect button and laid the receiver on the table with a sigh. "Pompous little prick."
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