She waved a dismissive hand. "I knew you wouldn't end up with that. You are too vain to make yourself a spectacle."
"Maybe I'm not," he protested.
She laughed. "Your poker face is too good, but I know you are nervous. Don't be. You are a dozen times the dragon of any of those people." Griffen glanced at the store staff. The women must have thought the reference was just a personal term between them, but Griffen didn't want the word to spread any further than it had.
The owner came toward Mai with a shimmering bundle of red held out on her arms like a hank of knitting wool. Mai held her hands over her head, and the owner slid the dress onto them. It slithered into place with a seductive hiss. The owner pulled up a zipper under the right arm that promptly became invisible in the seam. The dress fit Mai almost as tautly as her skin. It hung from one shoulder strap, leaving the other bare. The top was gathered over the bosom, but the long ruby skirt was plain. It could have come out of Veronica Lake's wardrobe.
"What do you think of this one?" Mai asked.
"I like it," Griffen said. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. The bare side invited him to kiss it, so he did.
"Hmm," she said, smiling at him in the mirror. "I think I like it, too." She reached down for the white tag hanging from the zipper pull, and turned it toward him. "Shouldn't you pay for this, Your Majesty? I am, after all, one of your maids in waiting."
Griffen gulped again. "I . . . can't," he admitted at last. "I'm going to be tight until after March."
Mai looked displeased, but she flicked a hand. "Never mind. I have plenty of money. Daddy still gives me an allowance, as long as I stay out of his hair."
"No," Griffen said. "I'll pay for it." He did some calculation in his head. "It just means I'll have to buy dresses for Val and Fox Lisa, too."
Mai raised an eyebrow. "Val might take your head off if you offer. She is getting very independent about making her own way in the world. Now, I don't mind if gentlemen buy me fine things."
"It's not just that," Griffen said. They both knew that Val was still upset about the bodyguards he had following her. But the guys, who were happy to help Ms. Valerie stay safe, were convinced, first of all, that they would not have to do more than clean up if there was a problem, maybe moving the bodies to a place where they could bleed to death in peace, and second, that he was right about other watchers being interested in her whereabouts. "I'll have to offer, anyhow. And Fox Lisa was excited to be in the court, but right now she's only working part-time." She wouldn't admit it, but it would be tough for her to make rent if she had to buy a dress on top of the other fees.
Mardi Gras was expensive. But Fox Lisa took the yearly festival in her stride. She was thrilled about everything, and insisted it was an honor to pay the three thousand dollars Fafnir demanded for her role as maid. They supplied her costumes, masks, all her throws, and her ball ticket. Griffen was relieved there was ONE expense he was not expected to cover. A dress for her was okay with him.
"Very well," Mai said. "I will pay for my own dress, but you will take me for a very expensive dinner. And you will pay for that."
"Yes, ma'am," he said.
Griffen gestured to the waiter to pour more wine for Mai. He stayed with a single whisky, so he would be sober enough to drive home. If he lost another car, this time it would not be his fault. She lifted the glass to him behind the crystal candlesticks. He toasted her back.
"Thank you for joining me today," he said.
"A pleasure," she said, taking a sip. "How is the business? I have scarcely heard a word from you lately. Normally, you have many stories to tell. I think it is both amusing and ambitious the way you are bringing backroom poker to such high standards."
Griffen made a face at her. "That was one backhanded compliment," he said. "I haven't really wanted to tell anyone about the problems we've been having this week." He told her about the cheating scandal. "This man, an Asian-American guy I haven't seen before, was adamant that two of our regulars had held back a card and screwed up the game on purpose. The victims are very straight. I would trust either of them to hold on to a hundred thousand dollars for me and never think of even borrowing from it for themselves. No way they could have been cheating."
"You think he was responsible?"
"I hate to think so," Griffen admitted. "But there are ways to rig a game for other players. I could do it. It's tricky to set up, but it can be done. The whole thing was just a big pain in the ass. Everyone went away mad. Then, in another game, there was a woman--also Asian-American, now that I think about it--Jerome never saw her before, accused the dealer of stacking the deck. The dealer is furious. We had to talk him out of quitting. Another mess. And now I've got this guy who seems perfectly nice, but Jer doesn't like him. I sat in on a late-night game with him yesterday. I just don't feel what Jerome feels. Peter is just too nice. No one is that nice all the time except Mister Rogers. He even loses like a gentleman. Funny, but he's Asian, too."
Mai's internal antennae went up. She didn't like Jerome, who had her number but was not in a position to fight her, but the facts suggested an unseen concurrence of events that she did not like. Griffen picked up on her concerned expression and looked alarmed.
"I'm not picking on these people just because of their background," he insisted. "I'm just telling you about the trouble we've had this week. It's just a coincidence that they were all Asian-Americans."
"No, no." She waved away the suggestion. "I would never think that of you. No. That isn't what I thought at all."
Griffen was not stupid. He made the connection immediately. "You do think there's something in it. Can these three events have anything to do with the Eastern dragons? I thought they were letting me alone for a while."
"I do not know," Mai said honestly. Could there be something more than coincidence? She needed to find out. "I doubt it, Griffen. They did plan to leave you alone." Except for her machinations, of course.
"And on top of that, Harrison is still busting my ass over the murder," Griffen added woefully.
"Murder?"
He leaned close to the candles so the waitress couldn't hear. "One of my dealers was strangled. An Eastern dragon named Jesse Lee. He came over from their operation. He said he wasn't getting the advancements he deserved. He'd been with me for three months. I don't know what happened. Harrison has no leads and no witnesses, but he's sure I'm holding out on him."
Mai was outraged. An Eastern dragon, murdered? That meant someone from one of the families. Who else but they--or the George--would know how to kill a dragon? Her temper flared. The two candles between them responded. Their flames flared high. People turned to look. She controlled herself, and the flames shrank to normal size. She grabbed Griffen's hand. "Tell Harrison you will help him in any way."
"Of course I will," Griffen said. "Did you know Jesse?"
"No," she said. "But I should have."
They finished their dinner over trivial small talk. Mai was quiet and thoughtful as they drove back to the hotel.
"Should I come up?" Griffen asked, as he popped the trunk for the bell captain to retrieve Mai's red silk dress in its plastic bags.
"I think I will go up by myself," she said. She leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you for a lovely day."
"Thank you," he said, looking puzzled. Mai stalked to the elevator and punched the button for her floor. She had a lot of thinking to do.
Nineteen
At 3:43 Sunday morning, the door to the luxury suite slammed open. Jordan Ma leaped to his feet. All night long, he had felt a questing power seeking him, so he did not undress or go to bed. He had sat still in the leather armchair in the darkened sitting room, waiting. Whoever it was grew closer and closer over the course of the hours. At last, he recognized that the seeker had firmed his location. Target acquired and locked, he thought. It would be useful to know whether a friend or foe sought him, but it was simpler to wait and find out. He was not without defenses. It was unlikely to be Griffen McCandles, who was far stronger than he, but unschooled, and anyone else in the city was a manageable threat.