Chapter 36

Security buzzed her and let Jenny know that Teal and his brother were coming up, so she went to stand by the elevator, exchanging a pleasant greeting with Krenklov on the way.

She smoothed her skirt and her hair, and when the elevator dinged and the doors started to wheeze open, she had a smile ready. A smile which instantly froze on her face.

"Hi, Jenn. This is my brother, Crane."

She said nothing.

Crane held out a manicured hand. The nails were neatly short, and buffed. She stared at it. "A great pleasure to meet you," he rumbled. "Teal's told me so many great things about you."

A short, difficult silence followed.

"Anyway," Teal said finally, giving her a strange look, "we thought we'd pop by, try to talk you into coming out for a beer. Not that you drink beer. Maybe a coffee? We can probably find a place that'll serve coffee without drowning it in whipped cream…"

"There's an excellent wine bar about six blocks from here," Crane said. "I had a 1944 Sauternes there."

Jenny's tongue felt frozen in her mouth.

"Of course, the port from that year was dreadful."

"You—"

Teal rolled his eyes. "I know, what a fucking stiff! 'Dreadful,' who says dreadful?"

"Someone with a more developed brain than you, little brother," Crane retorted.

"Shut the hell up. Jenn, are you going to shake his hand or is it going to just hang in the air all night?"

She shook the hand, which was strong and smooth at the same time. "I'm—I'm very pleased to meet you." She glanced over at his brother and hissed, "You didn't tell me you had an identical twin!"

Teal shrugged. "Why?"

"I'm afraid I'm a bit of the family black sheep," Crane said politely, staring at her with green, green eyes. "Everyone else works outdoors as trainers or guides or what-have-you. I rebelled a bit."

"Went fag is more like it," Teal said helpfully.

She took in the dark suit, the white shirt, the polished black shoes, the clean-shaven features. "Wh—what do you do?" she asked, staring up at him with helpless longing.

"I'm third violin for the Boston Symphony."

"Symphony," she breathed, swaying on her heels.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid I'm out here sulking, I missed my shot at second chair. My brother offered to cheer me up, and so here I am."

"That's great. I mean awful. Very very awful. You know, there's a symphony in Anchorage. And the king has wanted to get one started in Juneau. But it's difficult to get musicians to come all that way."

He smiled down at her. "Really? I can't think of a single reason not to go."

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh…

"Beer? Wine? Tequila? Anything? You guys? Hello?"

"Do you know, you look extraordinarily like the ballerina Greta Hodgkinson?"

She gasped. "You know, I've always thought so!"

Chapter 37

"This place," Teal said, "is the worst. I mean, it blows. It blows rocks."

"Hush, Teal," Crane said, almost absently, staring raptly into Jenny's eyes.

"We had to drive almost two hours to get here? Jesus."

"Yes," Jenny said. "Hush."

"For Christ's sake," he grumped, reading the menu again, which still only had three entrees on it. Three! Any decent restaurant had pages and pages of menu you could flip through. "You can't even get a burger here!"

"Ohhh, how wonderful," Jenny breathed. "No burgers."

"But they have a lovely marbled strip steak, which they serve with the most cunning b‚arnaise sauce… I think it has a hint of chervil in it. It's nothing I've been able to put my finger on…"

"Oh, delicious," Jenny said. "I'd like to have that, please. Except on bread; skip the steak."

"And Idon't want something that looks like the dog threw up on it before they brought it to my table," Teal griped. "Isn't anything in this place plain, for a working man? I mean, shee-it."

His twin and his friend looked at him with identical reproachful expressions, and Teal almost shuddered. Usually, his ideas were in the majority—Crane was definitely the black sheep of the family. And whatever friend they were hanging out with—like Shel, for instance—usually blew off the fancy sauces, especially if they were cheese-based.

Now, for the first time in his life, Crane was in the company of people who held the class-based high ground—and knew it. He felt like shriveling in his chair. Which pissed him off. Which made him feel like talking more.

"I mean, why fuck up a perfectly good piece of red meat? Why fancy it up with all that shit? Why not just throw it on the grill for ten minutes on each side and you're all set? Maybe with some mashed on the side…"

Jenny shivered and Crane patted her hand. "You can't overcook red meat, Teal. All the flavor will be lost. And the sauce works in concert with the full-bodied flavor of the meat. Assuming you even want red meat."

"Too true," Crane said, nodding, "and if you serve it with anything, it should be with something a little more delicate, in contrast to the robust texture of the meat."

"Like saut‚ed morel mushrooms," Jenny added. "Or, out of season, perhaps straw mushrooms. And perhaps some saut‚ed baby spinach on the side."

"That sounds heavenly," Crane breathed.

"Great. A serving of mold next to my pile of dog barf."

"Hush," they both murmured.

"Christ on a stick," Teal grumbled. The waiter edged over and—and! They talked about wine for. Ten. Minutes. Red wine, white wine, oaked wine, whatever the fuck that was. Ice wine, which wasn't appropriate until dessert, assuming he made it that long.

Finally… finally! Crane and Jenn had ordered their glasses, and the waiter was looking at him expectantly.

"Do you speak beer?" he asked him.

"Yes, of course," the waiter said, and Teal nearly swooned. "We have an excellent selection from Europe: Kolsch, Staroproman, Warsteiner, Zipfer, and, of course, Hoegartner."

Teal whimpered.

"You might try the Zipfer," his brother suggested, the traitorous fuck. "You can drink quite a bit and it doesn't cause hangovers."

"Good," Teal snapped, "because I'm gonna drink alot . Bring on the Zips," he told the waiter, who smiled and walked away.

"Ugh, beer," Jenny said, wrinkling her nose.

"It's just so…" His fag brother groped for the word.

"Common," Jenny prompted.

"Exactly. Now a solid, oaked white, on the other hand…"

"You could hardly call it common."

"When the wine comes," he informed Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dummer, "I'm cutting the cork in half and sticking each piece in my ear. It's an alternative to slitting both your throats."

"Now you're just being a baby," Jenny said reproachfully. "You should be happy I find your brother so—ah—engaging."

"Not if it means I'm going to be bored out of my tits all night," he snapped back.

"I can't believe I almost…" She shut up and sipped from her water glass.

"Believe me, 'narrow escape' is the phrase that's been on my mind all evening, too." He gulped his water thirstily… where was the Zipper beer? He needed about ten.

"I'm delighted you find me engaging," his brother said, and Jenny blushed to her eyebrows. "And speaking of engaging, I don't think we should delay even a moment."

"Oh, I agree," Jenny said, blinking up at him with her big Shania Twain eyes. "I think, if you find that person, that certain someone—I despise the term soul mate because it's—it's—"

"So dreadfully overused."

"Yes! But when you do find such a creature, someone so in sync, there seems no point to delay."

"I agree."

"I'm so happy to hear that!"

"Not as happy as I am, Jenny." They hugged briefly, and Teal barely rescued their water glasses.

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

They untangled each other, each beaming at him like pod people. "Congratulate us, dear," Jenny said.

"Congratulate you forwhat ? Macking at the table in the most expensive restaurant in the state?"

"Yes, give us all your best wishes," his weirdo brother added, still holding Jenny's hand.

"You guys. Seriously. What the hell is going on?"

They stared deeply into each other's eyes, and Teal was about to repeat the question, louder, when they turned to him and said in unison, "We're engaged!"

In fact, you can get a hangover if you drink too many Zipfer beers.

Chapter 38

Alex was cuddled in Shel's arms and it was, at the moment, difficult to feel concerned about anything. Instead, she actually felt sleepy. Not the exhaustion of knowing she hadn't slept enough and wouldn't in the future, but actual "it's possible to doze off" sleepy.

"That was yummy," she sighed, stroking her fingers along his bicep.

"The yummiest in my life. We keep topping each other."

She laughed. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No. Because if it was, it'd be a pretty bad one, don't you think?"

"Do you want me to call room service, have them send up a steak?"

"I'd be too tired to cut it."

"I could have someone cut it."

He groaned. "What a great way to shatter my post-coital bliss."

"Well, using the phrase 'post-coital' shatters mine."

"Then we're even. Can you sleep? For a little while?"

"I think. For a little while."

"I'm staying. Don't freak out."