I shook my head. “We’re considered súbito or súbita de casa—a servant of the house. To feed on us would be a gross violation of honor and virtue.”
“Also, she’s female,” David added. “We don’t feed on women.”
Jeff turned his thousand-watt smile on me and leaned in a little closer. “Their loss, my … er our gain, huh?”
David stiffened, but I didn’t even blush because it sounded so trite and canned. Not that I would have bought it anyway. I had a feeling an actor’s flirtation was about as real as an Álfar’s glamour. Not that Montolbano wasn’t handsome as hell, and very charming, and he seemed bright, but he was married, which was a nonstarter for me. Even if I was interested in Montolbano, spending time with him wouldn’t look all that good. While not an actual party in the arbitration, he had forced the parties to the table. Caesar’s wife and all that.
And I was still hurting over the loss of John. I’d never actually been on a date with John. We’d gone straight to making love, sharing fear and deadly danger, and finally he had sacrificed himself and stayed in Fey (a place he hated) so his bat-shit crazy Álfar mother would release me and my clients, but I didn’t actually know him all that well. I knew he was a changeling who had been switched for a human infant. That he had followed in his human foster father’s footsteps and joined the police force. That after twenty years with the Philly police force he’d retired and turned private investigator doing a lot of work for my firm, IMG. John described himself as a blue-collar elf, and it fit.
And I was, by God, going to free him, though I had no expectations about what our relationship might be or become after he returned.
David’s voice pulled me out of my navel gazing. “I was surprised when I heard you speak in person,” the vampire said to Montolbano. “You don’t sound like you do on screen.”
“Wow. You go to those newfangled talkies?” The response to my teasing was a glare.
“We do move with and adapt to the times.”
“Just very slowly,” I added sotto voce.
“I heard that. I apologize,” he added with a nod to the actor. Montolbano was laughing.
“You two, you’re like…”
“What?” asked David, his tone a bit dangerous.
Montolbano shook his head. “I can’t really figure it out. But to answer your question, no, I don’t sound the same on screen. Given my looks, I affect a touch of a Central European Eurotrash accent, but I’m a kid who grew up in Omaha, Nebraska.”
“Get out of here!” I said.
“Yeah, really. I keep my background pretty quiet, all part of that privacy mystique, but I’m fifth generation in the States. My great-great-grandfather came over and opened a restaurant in Brooklyn. Then Granddad decided the rest of the country deserved real Italian food, so he moved the family to Nebraska.”
“Wow. I understand that actors put on roles, but that makes you seem like a complete chiseler.”
“Not content to follow in the family business, I take it?” David said, and he made it sound like Jeff was some kind of sellout.
I wondered why he was being so snotty. Maybe because he’d been forced to eat hotel food because of Jeff’s squeamishness?
“Nope, got the bug early, hammed it up in every school play, went to school at CAST in Minneapolis. Quit before I graduated and drifted west.”
“No legitimate theater for you, I take it.” David really was sneering. I shot him a questioning look, but he refused to meet my eye.
For an instant Montolbano stiffened then relaxed, and the lazy smile was back in place. “Nope. I knew I was prettier than I was talented. I figured I had a better chance in Hollywood.” A shrug. “I was right.”
Desperately, I shifted the conversation, bringing up the past November’s presidential election. We found common ground in approving of the new occupant in the White House, and we brushed through the rest of dinner without any further tension between the two men.
Montolbano dropped us off at the hotel. I walked up the red carpet and wondered what it would be like to walk a real red carpet—at a movie premier or the Academy Awards. David was stalking along behind me. He paused at the front desk to check for messages.
“Well, see you in the morning,” I said and turned to head for the elevators. “Do we know how we’re getting to the arbitration in the morning?”
“I assume Kobe will pick us up.”
“Look, if we’re going to be here for weeks, I’d like to have my own car. Can we rent something?” I asked.
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” David said.
“Okay. Well, good night.”
He surprised me by saying, “Let me walk you to your room.” Vampires were all about the old-world courtesy, but this was a bit extreme. Something was up. I decided to try for a joke.
“I don’t think I’m going to get mugged in the Beverly Hills Hotel, but thanks.”
We rode the elevator in silence. Even with the nap I was pretty tired, and looking forward to sinking into the pillow-top mattress. At the door to my room I swiped the key card and, trying to forestall whatever was going on, said, “Good night.”
“I want to talk to you privately.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that. What’s going on?”
“Not in a public hallway, if you please.”
We went into the room and I was horribly aware of the unmade bed, strewn with various rejected outfits. “Looks like you put a lot of thought into what to wear tonight,” David said,
I didn’t like the implication. “I wanted to make a good professional impression. This is the guy who brought us in.”
“Really? That’s all it was? How hard can it be to pick an appropriate outfit?”
“For men? Not hard at all. You put on a suit. Your only choice is what color shirt and tie. Women have to think about so many other issues. Where’s the hem? What kind of neckline? Jewelry, how much and what kind? What shoes—” I broke off. “And why, exactly, are we talking about this?”
“You were clearly trying to make an impression,” David said.
“Yes, I said that.”
“There’s a certain standard of professional behavior that Ishmael, McGillary and Gold expects from its associates.”
“Why are you sounding like the prudish school teacher in a Merchant Ivory movie?” I was starting to get mad. “Are you saying my behavior wasn’t professional? In what way? What did I do?”
“You allowed him to take liberties with you!”
“What?” Shock had my voice spiraling into dolphin sonic mode. I regained control and decided to turn it into a joke. “Wow, rethinking that gay thing. Did you ever actually go out with a girl before you died? He was flirting, and he didn’t mean a bit of it.”
“I’m not joking. You were all over him.”
“And I was joking, and so was he. I think you should leave now.” I drew myself up to my full height and tried to look down my nose at him. It wasn’t entirely successful since he was six feet tall.
David did start for the door, but as he left he added, “I want you to keep an appropriate distance from Mr. Montolbano.”
The door closed behind him. I stared at the blank expanse of wood, emitted an enraged squeak, snatched a pillow off the rumpled bed, and threw it at the door. I then resolved to spend as much time as possible with Jeffery Montolbano.
4
Since I was still on New York time I woke up at 4:20 a.m. Lying perfectly still, and squeezing my eyes shut did not return me to dreamland. After fifteen minutes I gave up and got up. Since I had a lot of time before the car arrived I hied myself down to the health club and did a hard workout on the stationary bike and the balance ball. I can never remember if I have fast or slow twitch muscles, but the result was that I bulk up quickly. Which is why I don’t run or use the elliptical machines. The muscles in my calves get huge, and my handmade König dressage riding boots don’t fit. And since they cost twelve hundred dollars and take several months between order and delivery, I wasn’t about to run the risk.