Nanna and Mom shared a glance. They weren’t sure whether they should be impressed because he worked for himself, or whether they should be worried because he might be bankrupt.
I could see my mom trying to figure out a way to politely ask how his business was doing, but Nanna beat her to it.
“Are you broke?” Nanna said.
Stone said, “No.”
Nanna said, “Oh. I thought maybe you were eating here because you have no money.”
Stone shook his head. “I have some money.”
I flicked over what I knew about Stone – it was hard to judge how successful he was, but I assumed that clients like Sophia didn’t pay him peanuts.
“So, Stone,” my mom started again. “How long have you had your own company?”
“Seven years.”
She nodded. “And what did you do before that?”
“I was in the CIA.”
Mom and Nanna exchanged another smug look.
I put down my fork in exasperation. “Will you guys stop? He’s not my boyfriend, he’s just a friend.”
“Well.” My mom looked at me sharply. “Excuse me for being friendly.”
If that was friendly, I wanted to know what a KGB interview looked like.
Nanna turned to Stone. “Why aren’t you her boyfriend? You’re not gay, are you?”
Stone shook his head and Nanna continued. “Not that I’d mind if you were gay, every girl needs a gay boyfriend. You could give Tiffany a makeover. She needs one.”
I groaned. Stone looked at me and then back at Nanna. “I’m not gay,” he said. “So I can’t give her a makeover.”
Nanna looked at him carefully. “But you’re a snappy dresser.”
“Thank you,” Stone said.
“I bet you could pick out better clothes than Tiffany does. She dresses like a nun.”
“I do not dress like a nun!”
“Did you grow up in Vegas?” Mom interrupted.
Stone nodded. “Yes.”
“Well.” My mom searched about for something else to ask. “Are your parents still alive?”
Stone shook his head. “No.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Mom! Let him eat.” I was scared Stone would bolt, leaving me stranded here.
“That’s ok,” he said, “I’ve got a brother.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s in the army.”
“Is he married?” Mom asked. “Does he have any kids?”
Stone shook his head. “No.”
Nanna said, “Is he a baby daddy? I heard these days young men become baby daddies.”
For the first time, I saw Stone smile. “No, he’s not a baby daddy.”
I hoped that Nanna didn’t really know what a “baby daddy” was.
“Why not?” Nanna said. “Is he also gay?”
“I’m going to watch the game,” Dad declared. “You coming, Stone?”
“Yes, sir.”
The two heaped some more chicken and mash onto their plates and walked off. I had a vague feeling they wouldn’t watch the game and would instead talk about evading cameras and blind spots in surveillance systems.
As soon as they left, Nanna and Mom focused on me with laser-like precision. I raised an eyebrow at Nanna, trying to convey psychically that if she bugged me, I would spill the beans on her poker-playing. But clearly, my wordless communication failed. Either that or she knew I was bluffing.
“Why aren’t you dating him?” Nanna said. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Yes,” Mom said, “You should be dating him.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. We’re just good friends.”
Nanna snorted. “We used to be good friends in my time. But things are more modern now, and you can be ‘friends with benefits.’” She peered at me hopefully. “You’re not ‘friends with benefits’ are you? Because if you are, then I understand.”
For a second, I hoped that she didn’t know what “friends with benefits” meant. But then again, she had figured out how to use the internet, and was beginning to learn a shocking number of things that I thought she shouldn’t know.
I shook my head. “He’s not my type.”
“He’s your type,” Mom said, “You’re twenty-eight, every man who’s single is your type. You should’ve gotten married three years ago. Do you know, my friend’s daughter Christine has a nine-year old son now? Imagine that! I could have had three grandkids.”
She sat there glumly, imagining her three grandkids running around, and I tried to think of something to say that would make her feel better.
Nanna beat me to it. “Cheer up,” she told my mother. “Sometimes having grandkids is a disappointment.”
“Nanna!” My eyes rounded with surprise and disappointment. “Is this because I didn’t get you the iPad you wanted, last Christmas? You know it’s only because Mom told me not to. She thought you would use it to go to adult websites or buy crap online or try to hack into the FBI.”
Nanna glared at Mom. “I saw what you bought off eBay last week. And you’re lucky I don’t tell Peter.”
Mom’s jaw dropped. I thought for a few blissful seconds that I was off the hook, but then she turned to me and said, “Is it because you’re scared of getting hurt? Because you know dear, you have to take a risk sometimes.”
I groaned. “No, Mom, it’s not that.”
“Well. Does he have a girlfriend?”
I didn’t know if he did, but I nodded my head vigorously. “Yes, he does.”
“Hmm.” Mom frowned, possibly regretting all that effort she’d put into dessert. “Well, you’re too old to wait for him to leave her.” And then she brightened visibly. “You know, my friend Rebecca has a son who’s a bit older than you. You remember Sam?”
“The kid who told everyone his parents were aliens from outer space?”
Mom frowned. “No, this is another Sam.”
“I’m pretty sure Sam the Alien Kid had a mom named Rebecca.”
Mom glared at me silently and then she cheered up. “Well. Nina’s nephew will be in town for a visit and I know he’s a lovely boy.”
She got up and began clearing up plates without asking me if I wanted another serving.
When she was out of sight I narrowed my eyes at Nanna. “You’re meant to be on my side,” I hissed.
“I am on your side,” she said. “He’s a lovely young man. All handsome and such. I think you two could have beautiful children someday.”
“We’re not having beautiful children,” I said, “I don’t even want children. They’re snotty and they scream and they break all your nice things.”
Nanna looked at me carefully and then said, “You know, I found a great website online. It teaches you how to seduce a man and steal him away from his girlfriend. I figured I might need those tips someday, but I can pass you the link, if you’d like.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Well, then.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice an octave. “My friend Dave gave me this program. You install it on Stone’s computer and it’ll monitor everything he does and you can enter his email and such. Maybe send his girlfriend a mean email or something.”
I looked at Nanna in shock. “You haven’t used it yet, have you?”
She shook her head. “I’m tempted to see what stuff your mom says about me in her emails, but so far I’ve resisted.”
“Good,” I said, “Stay strong. I don’t want you arrested for hacking.”
Nanna looked offended but just then Mom called out to the guys that dessert was being served. They reappeared at the table and Mom brought out a chocolate lava cake. My favorite. There was vanilla ice-cream to go with it, and I dug in.
I vaguely heard my mom quizzing Stone about something or other – How old was his brother? How had his parents died? What did they used to do for a living when they were alive? Where abouts in Vegas had he grown up? Did he know Tony Kozlowski?
Stone’s answers seemed to make Mom happy, but I could tell that my dad wanted to ask him more about evading security. Sometimes I worry that Dad doesn’t have enough hobbies.
At some point, I couldn’t possibly stuff any more cake into my stomach. I helped Mom and Nanna clear the table, before we all said goodbye. My parents and Nanna seemed sadder to see Stone go than me. I took comfort in the fact that Sprinkles deigned to come downstairs and rub against my legs before we left but she completely ignored Stone, which made up a little for the fuss my family had made over him.
Chapter Thirteen
When we got onto to the freeway, I said, “Well, that was interesting.”
Stone didn’t say anything in response, so I assumed he’d temporarily exhausted his conversational skills.
When we neared my place, he said, “Call the Treasury and cancel your shift.”
I stared at him. “How do you… Who told you I work there?”
“I looked through your phone when you were in the shower.”
“You looked through my phone?”
Stone didn’t take his eyes off the road.
“Why did you go through my phone?”
“People sometimes hide things. If I’m going to do my job properly, I need to know about you.”
“I have private stuff on my phone!”
“Like what? Your texts with Nanna?”
I glowered at him but he continued to look at the road impassively. Although he did have a point. I have no life, so I don’t really have private stuff. Still.
“So you looked through my phone while talking to my dad?”
Stone nodded. “He can’t seem to tell phones apart.”
“No,” I agreed sadly, “He can’t. He should pick up technology tips from Nanna.”
Stone wasn’t saying anything and we’d left the freeway. I called my floor manager at the Treasury, Joan, and told her I had stomach flu. She didn’t seem to believe me, but she didn’t seem to care much, either. Apart from Mondays and Fridays, weekdays were usually slow in the pit. They wouldn’t miss me.
Stone took an early exit and then took a roundabout way to my place. He walked me from his car to the building and then came upstairs with me.
“What now?” I said.
Stone looked around. “You’ve tidied up.”
I nodded.
“You need a bolt for the door,” he said, “Anyone can work off the security chain.”
Well that was heartening to know.
“Would your neighbors mind a bit of noise at this hour?” he asked.
“They’d mind noise at any hour. Probably more now.”
“Don’t want you staying here till that door’s fixed.”
I crossed my arms and looked at him, waiting to hear what he’d propose.
“Way I see it,” he said, “You can stay here and me or Zac can stand guard outside your door. You can spend the night at my office, or you can check into a casino.”
“You mean a hotel.”
Stone raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. “You don’t think it’s the same thing in this town?”
I didn’t answer him since he’d already made up his mind about the livability of ‘casinos.’ Checking into a hotel would cost money, but spending the night in Stone’s office would be awkward. And if he or Zac sat outside my door, my neighbors would probably call the cops and have them dragged away.
I sighed. “I don’t want you around all the time. I need to interview suspects and such and it’s easier if I’m on my own.”
He shrugged. “It’s ok.”
“I guess I should go to a hotel.”
“Good choice. Leave me a key to this place and I’ll have one of my employees come in and fix it up for you.”
I blinked at him in surprise. It had never even occurred to me that you could fix a problem so easily. I’d envisioned hours of work, a lot of mess with paint, and irate neighbors. Not to mention dangerous goons who’d probably try to interrupt my painting. With my luck, they’d turn out to be artistic goons who didn’t like their handiwork tinkered with.
As I packed a tiny suitcase, Stone waited in my living room, flicking between channels on my ancient TV .
“It’s just for one night, right?” I called, and Stone grunted in response. I suppose that meant ‘yes,’ but I packed a few extra clothes just in case.
Stone made no comment when I emerged with my heavy suitcase. We locked the door behind us and got into the elevator.
A woman rode down in the elevator with us. I said hello and managed to identify her correctly as Betty from 516A, one of the tenants who’d been living here for more than a few weeks. She was pleased I’d remembered her and beamed in our general direction.
“It’s so lovely to see a young couple going away for a romantic break,” she said. “Nowadays everyone gets divorced after a year. That’s not what the Lord says is right. How long have you two been married, dear?”
I said, “We’re not married.”
Her smile disappeared into a thin, straight line and she looked at us sternly. I thought she was going to give us a lecture about Living In Sin, but before I could explain, the elevator reached the lobby and she strode out, impatient to get away from the reprobates.
Stone and I were on and off the freeway before I could even work out what direction we were going. We did a few circles and then headed back to the Strip. He drove up to the Himalaya Resort Casino, and handed his keys over to the valet.
We walked up to Reception and Stone said, “We’d like a suite.”
The petite brunette – Vera, if her nametag was to be believed – smiled at us. “Certainly, sir. Would you like a junior, executive, VIP, honeymoon, or Presidential suite?”
Stone turned to me. “What do you want? I’ll bill Sophia for you.”
I tried not to smile too hard. “I don’t want to be too greedy, so not the Presidential. And Honeymoon might be depressing since I’m single. I’ll take the VIP suite.”
“Great choice,” Vera said, and began to reel off a list of amenities that came with the suite. Stone gave her his credit card details and we collected our key and walked up to the room.
It was breathtakingly glamorous inside. I admired the bed, the clever lighting, the massive private hot tub, the fridge full of complimentary drinks, and the view out the window. Stone checked the door and the window, and declared the place to be safe.
“I’m off,” he said. “I’ll fix up your place tomorrow and I’ll pick you up from here at ten. Remember you have Krav Maga at eight. Cab it there and back.”
And then he was gone.
I spent a few hours enjoying a leisurely glass of Bollinger while watching a ‘reality’ TV show that was far removed from the real world, then soaked in the hot tub for a bit. I thought about calling Sophia to tell her about the vandalism at my place and that I’d moved in here for the night, but then decided not to update anyone.
I was exhausted by the day’s events, and as soon as I snuggled against the soft hotel pillows, I sank into a deep, dreamless slumber. I woke up at dawn. It was a strange sensation, since this was the time of day when I would usually leave work and call it a night.
I had hoped to sleep in a bit longer, but now that I was awake, I decided to make the most of it. I changed into my swimsuit and did a few laps in the pool, and then I headed over to the breakfast buffet where I showed an incredible amount of restraint by only ordering the pancakes and a mushroom omelet.
I went back to my room and busied myself looking over my case notes till half past seven, before hailing a cab outside.
I got to Carla’s a few minutes early and was incredibly glad I wasn’t late. Carla was a short, slender woman, but she emanated a fierce, intense energy that would make any thug in a back alley run away from her. She could have been anywhere between thirty and sixty and had the agility of a teenager, teamed with a strong French accent.
She introduced me to her plastic dummy, Kevin, and showed me a few basic moves. Kick
ing the groin, bringing a knee up to the groin, punching the groin. Lots of unpleasant things to do to the groin. It was followed up with unpleasant things to do to the eyes, the little fingers, the neck and the forearms.
Next, Carla introduced me to her assistant, Louis, and showed me how to get out of various holds. Louis was wearing street clothes for this section, and I practiced the moves with him for a few minutes.
After that, Louis changed into a fat suit, and it was time to practice all those dangerous groin-attack moves on him. I wondered how much Carla was paying him for it, and tried to keep my punches and pokes mild.
“You must be angrier,” Carla urged me. “You must remember that this man will rape you, kill you. Think of the ex-boyfriend that said you were ugly. Or the woman who stole the dress you liked from the sample sale. Think of all those things that make you angry. Now focus on Louis, who is weak and terrible and trying to kill you. Also he has just told his girlfriend that she is fat.”
I punched Louis in the gut and he fell backwards.
“It is because of the suit,” Carla explained, “In real life he will bend forward from the waist, and after that you can kick him in the groin or punch him in the neck and run away. Remember to always run away.”
I thought about Mr. Beard and the way he screamed. I felt reasonably confident I could make him scream like that by using my bare hands now. I just had to remember that he’d told his girlfriend she was fat.
Carla gave me a timetable for her classes and insisted I come again to improve my skills. “Otherwise,” she said, “You will be the weakling, the girl who cannot fight.”
I nodded and thanked Louis, who smiled at me.
“I felt nothing,” he said, “You must punch harder.”
Stone picked me up from the hotel at exactly ten. I wasn’t surprised that he was so punctual – he seemed to me like one of those obsessive types who plan their travel time down to the last second, using fancy software to calculate drive times compared to current traffic conditions. Or maybe he’d just parked round the corner and camped out in his car for the last five minutes.
“I’ve upgraded your locks,” he said, “So it’s safer now.”
Innocent in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 1) Page 8