Page 29 of A Certain Appeal
“Don’t care,” I say, but let Jane nudge me past the threshold. I send my attention around the room, not wanting to miss a single detail. The venue where Jane’s performing tonight has a USO theme, and whoever decorated it went all out. The little foyer is walled with framed photos of Bob Hope: dancing with Raquel Welch, flashing a peace sign with Ann-Margret, and mingling with countless soldiers over decades of service.
Jane keeps pushing me forward as I risk whiplash trying to take it all in, but I stop short to gawk at the bar. Above it protrudes the noseof a plane, complete with a bikini-clad blonde lounging against the words “California Girl.”
“This is awesome,” I marvel. “In the purest sense of the word. I amawedright now.”
“Darlene’s brother owns the bar,” Jane explains, switching from pushing to tugging. “Their grandfather had a ton of memorabilia, and they’ve been all over the Eastern Seaboard for the rest. Tonight’s show is the kickoff for the bar’s opening weekend.”
I nod, still agog. The show’s title isRed, White, and Boobs. I was prepared for something patriotic, but this is next-level.
Jane gets me to the far end of the bar, where Ming waves to us from beside an oversized Uncle SamI Want YOU!army recruitment poster. She’s dressed in a navy blue onesie, a red kerchief in her hair à la Rosie the Riveter, though the way her jumpsuit is unbuttoned to expose the center of her coordinating polka-dotted bra is more in keeping with the “and Boobs” element of the evening.
“Would you get a load of this place?” She points up, one arm hugging Jane. “It has a freakingplane!”
I get a hug, too. When she releases me, I fold my hands in prayer. “Is there any way I can get a rush on the dress I brought you last week? That party for my day job is this weekend and I found incentive to step it up.”
Ming’s smile turns knowing, and she flicks the little tie at my bust. “Does thisincentivehave a name?”
“Our Kitten is on hersecondouting of the evening.” Jane pats me on the shoulder. Between my texts on the subway ride and our conversation after we met up at the station, Jane is well informed of Wickham’s many redeeming qualities. He couldn’t believe how thoroughlyI’d spilled my guts to the guy. “He has my approval,” Jane said. “Anyone who cracks you open on the first go has to be worthy.”
I wiggle my eyebrows, and Ming cackles.
“I’m close to done, anyway,” she says.
“Thank you! Seal the deal with a beverage?”
She gestures to the bar. “Obviously.”
I raise my hand for the bartender’s attention. Ming orders a beer and I get a cherry Coke, still feeling the effects from drinks with my “incentive.”
Jane declines. “I’m gonna go warm up.” He tips his hat, a new fedora he’s wearing to cover his stitches. It’s one of four he and Charles—which is to say, Charles—splurged on after this morning’s checkup.
Ming nods toward Jane, who disappears through the curtains at stage right. “So. Thor’s backing Andrea’s bid for the building.” She doesn’t bother to phrase it as a question.
“Yup.”
“Hm.” Ming takes a pull from her beer. “The god of thunder was at your place when I checked on Jane earlier. Jane was totally gaga. Showing off his new hats, blasting Madonna. I haven’t seen him like that since he was with Marcus.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes.
“What’s up?”
She screws up her face in thought. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing Jane back at his full wattage. But I wonder if it’s smart for him to be so obvious.”
“He’s being brave!”
“Like I said, I love it, but... I dunno.” She rests an elbow against the bar. “Andrea’s still talking like Jane’s sealed the deal by hookingup with Charles. I swear, if she makes another ‘sugar daddy’ comment, I’m gonna scream.”
“She’s saying that to you, too?” I’d been hoping she’d at least keep that nonsense limited to me and Jane.
“So tacky of her, right? I thought the Brits were supposed to have better manners than us.”
“Nah. When they’re gross, it onlysoundsprettier.”
“Anyway, I would hate for Charles to get the wrong idea. Like, that Jane’s been aboard the sugar-daddy train this whole time, y’know?”
I nod.
“Ah!” Ming points past me. “Speak of the devil, here’s Thor.”
Charles is just inside the front door, cradling a bouquet of white roses. Spotting us, he smiles broadly and trots over. “Bennet, Ming, hey! Isn’t this place great?” He cranes his neck, looking over the room. “Jane already backstage?”
