“Hey! Waiter!” I heard him call. “Another round of whatever Mr. Skeeve and his guest are drinking . . . and put it on my tab!”
“Umm . . . thank you,” I said, extracting my hand and turning to the girl who had asked for an autograph. “Do you have a pen?”
“Gosh no!” she exclaimed. “But I’ll go get one. Don’t go away, I’ll be right back.”
I really didn’t know what to think. I had been nervous about coming back to Limbo because of my near criminal activities during my last visit, and here they were treating me like a celebrity!
“Mr. Skeeve. If you don’t mind. It’s for my little girl.”
This last was from a were-tiger who thrust both paper and pen at me. Fortunately, after the last visitor, I knew what he was after, and hastily scribbled my signature on the page.
Our ghost waiter materialized through the growing crowd and set our drinks on the table . . . except there were three of them! From the color, one for Cassandra, and two for me.
“What’s with the extra?” I said.
“Compliments of the table over there, sir,” the waiter said, pointing somewhere off to my left.
I tried to look where he was indicating, and almost put my nose in the navel of another young lady who was crowding up beside me. Actually, she was one of three, any one of whom would be eye-catching under normal circumstances, but were just part of the crowd here.
“Where are you going from here, Mr. Skeeve?” the taller one purred. “There’s going to be a party at our place later if you want to come by.”
“Wipe your chin, Sweetheart,” Cassandra smiled, slipping her arm around my shoulder. “He’s my date . . . and I plan to keep him busy all night.”