That had an intriguing sound to it, but just then someone else started tugging on my sleeve.
“Excuse me, Mr. Skeeve,” said an awesome set of teeth from a point too close to focus on. “I was wondering if I might interview you sometime at your convenience?”
“Well . . . I’m kind of busy right now, “I hedged, trying to lean back far enough to get a better look at my questioner . . . which unfortunately pressed the back of my head up against one of the party girls.
“Oh, I don’t mean now,” the teeth said, matching my retreat with a move forward so I still couldn’t see what or who was talking. “If you can stop by our table over there later, we’ll set up an appointment. I’ll have a drink waiting for you . . . Bloody Mary, right?”
“Right. I mean, okay. But . . .”
But by that time the person was gone. I only hoped that they’d recognize me if I got into the general vicinity. Right now, my attention was caught by the fact that whoever I was pressing backward against was now pressing forward against the back of my head … far too insistently for it to be an accident.
“Say, Skeeve,” Cassandra said, giving me an excuse to break contact, which I took, pausing only to take a gulp of my drink before I leaned toward her.
“Yes, Cassandra?”
“If you don’t mind, can we head out of here after you finish your drink? There are a couple other places I’d like to hit tonight . . . you know, to show you off a little?”
“No problem.” I said, “but it might take a while.”
Somehow, during the last flurry of discussions, my two drinks had multiplied into four.