Page 63 of Leo

“I am here on business, and she could not leave her store.”

“She is, how do you say?” She waved a delicate hand in the air as she tried to find the word. “A pâtissier.”

“She is, yes.”

She eyed him over her glass. “She makes magic in the kitchen and the bedroom.”

He laughed softly. “Something like that.”

“I cannot compete with that kind of magic.” Her lips formed a red moue of regret. “I have missed your expertise in the bedroom. And have to say that is an extremely fortunate woman.”

He felt the pain of that statement and had to tamp it down. He had not called. It probably was petty, and he really should be checking on her, but he was too vulnerable right now and the pain was too raw.

“I am in love with her. Completely.”

She gave him an intuitive look. “And if she has not returned that love, she is a complete fool.”

*****

“Leather pants, knee-high boots and a form fitting black cashmere sweater.” He stared at her in delight. “I am going to be the envy of every man in the club. We are going to Timmy’s by the way.”

“I hate that place.” She complained as she slid into the passenger seat of the vehicle. “It’s a social club instead of a real one and everyone there wants to be seen.”

“It is where the ‘wanna be’s’ go to get noticed.”

“I thought you wanted us to dance. No one dances at that place. All they do is sit around and watch each other.”

Michael laughed in delight. “That is exactly what they do. But we will sit, have some non-alcoholic wine, eat pate and dish on the minor celebrities there. I happen to know who is screwing who.”

“Something I am not interested in.” She reminded him dryly. She would have preferred to stay home and try and get some sleep, but that had not happened over the last few days, and she doubt that it would be different tonight.

“Chin up, darling, I guarantee we will have fun.”

And she did. It surprised her that as soon as she stepped into the lofty interior of what was known as ‘the celebrity’s club’, she started to have fun. They were ushered into a room spinning giddily with a kaleidoscope of colorful lights.

People mingled prettily and the conversations were muted. A live band was playing, with several couples dancing unenthusiastically on the blue-green dance floor.

The bar was an oblong structure with several barkeeps serving up stylish looking drinks. The women vied with the men, and it was a toss up to who was more elegantly dressed.

Jewelries sparkled in the muted lights.

They were served a pink frothy concoction that tasted amazingly of strawberries and watermelon and was soothing to her stomach. Nuts were arranged attractively on a wide plate and wafer-thin breads were immediately sent to their table.

Michael knew everyone there of course and dished about them in a lazy speculative voice that had her laughing uncontrollable.

“I don’t believe you,” she gasped.

“Would I lie to you?” He asked drolly.

“Oh yes you would.”

He grinned at her astute knowledge of him. “Of course I would. But I am telling you that Stanley there is a cross dresser. And also, a closet homophobe. He lives with his mother in a horrible ranch type home that needs a lot of repairs.

Mommy dearest holds the purse strings and even though he has a minor success as a producer for some B rated movies, he does not get to call the shots.

The pitiful thing tried to get out from under her thumb twice by getting married, but they both ended in divorce.” He sipped his drink, eyes twinkling as he warmed to the story. “I think they’re doing it.”

She stared at him in disgust. “That is sick. And now you are just making it up.”

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