escalator that carried a steady stream of new arrivals.
The Air Canada flight from Vancouver was on time, and at ten minutes after five she saw Martin Littlefeather among the throng, an excited gleam in his eye. She smiled and waved. When he got to her, he hesitated as if trying to decide whether to offer his hand or give her a hug. Before he could do anything, Ava thrust out her hand. “No bag?” she asked.
“I had to check it. Remember, I was packed for four days in Victoria.”
The baggage area was highly efficient, and Martin retrieved his luggage within a few minutes. They’ll do anything to get you to a casino faster, Ava thought. “What kind of car did you get?” she said.
“I couldn’t get a Mercedes, so I thought a Lincoln Continental would meet your size requirement.”
“Perfect.”
It was a short drive to Hooters. Ava told Martin to leave the car with the valet service and then waited in the lobby while he checked in and took his bag to his room. When he came back to the lobby, she saw that he had exchanged his Western plaid shirt for a black tee and a buckskin jacket with elaborate beadwork across the chest and leather fringe down the arms. He’s handsome, she thought as she took in his soft brown eyes, fine features, high cheekbones, and long, silky black hair.
“Do you like Japanese food?” she asked.
“Never really had it. Cooper Island and Kingston are more meat and potatoes, although Kingston does have more variety.”
“Well, we’ll try Japanese,” she said.
They took a cab to Ichiza and were early enough to get a table. When Martin was handed a menu, he looked at Ava and grinned awkwardly. “You’ll have to do this,” he said.
“Garlic chicken gizzards?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She pointed to it on the menu.
“I can’t eat that.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll order food you can recognize. Wine? Beer?”
“Wine is good. Red, preferably.”
Ava ordered everything in one go. Miso soup, seaweed salad, broiled eggplant, seared black cod, and a sashimi platter with yellowfin, snapper, octopus, and shrimp. She ordered the house wine, a California Pinot.
“Is Chief Francis still angry with me?” she asked.
“He isn’t angry; you just confuse him.”
“How?”
“He’s used to getting his own way and sort of takes that for granted. He’s had two meetings with you and both times you got what you wanted. He thinks you manipulated him.”
“What did you say?”
“No more than you were manipulating me.”
“That was an astute comment.”
“He also thinks you have some serious muscle behind you. Is that true?”
“My muscle arrives tonight from Hong Kong. Carlo might weigh 140 pounds, Andy a bit less.”
“What kind of names are those for Chinese?”
Their wine arrived. She watched as the waiter filled two glasses almost to the rims. “Cheers,” she said. They clinked glasses, his eyes trying to catch hers. Shit, she thought.
“Anyway, we were talking about Chinese names,” she said. “We’re given Chinese names at birth, but when we move into Western society, many of us adopt — or in my case are given — English names. Carlo and Andy chose their own names. Actually, Carlo was Billy for a while and then decided he liked Carlo better.”
“What is your Chinese name?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, Martin, that’s my secret.”
He looked up at the ceiling. “You know, Ava, I’m really attracted to you.”
“I know, Martin.” She shook her head.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m gay.”
She saw a hint of shock, and then disappointment spread across his face.
“And besides, I’m way too old for you,” she said.
“That’s bull.”
She smiled. “Well, maybe a bit too old.”
“The gay thing?”
She picked up his hand, pulled it towards her, and kissed the back of it. “All very true, since the day I felt my first sexual impulse. Never any doubt, never any regrets.”
“God, I feel so clumsy,” he said.
“I think you’re sweet,” Ava said, still holding his hand. “And I think you’re smart, really smart. You aren’t thirty yet and already you’re a CFO. Chief Francis listens to you as well, that’s obvious. And I don’t blame him. You aren’t afraid to give advice, and when you do, it’s thoughtful and pragmatic.”
He covered her hand with his. “That’s because I’ve told him twice to do what you wanted.”
“See what I mean? Sweet and smart.” She smiled. “Friends?”
“Yeah, friends — I told you that back in Victoria. Even if this Vegas thing hadn’t come up, you would have heard from me again.”
The restaurant was full now, people standing at the door and spilling outside. “I hope you like this,” she said as the miso soup and broiled eggplant were served.
–
It was just past eight o’clock when they left the restaurant. “What’s the plan?” Martin asked as they went down the stairs to the car.
Ava couldn’t help looking around as they walked across the parking lot. “That’s up to you. I have to go to the airport to meet my boys.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Sure,” she said as she climbed into the car.
It was no more than a ten-minute drive to McCarran. They parked the car and jostled their way into the terminal.
“You’ve obviously worked with these people before,” Martin said.
“Once or twice.”
“What is it they do exactly?”
“It depends on what’s called for.”
“That’s vague.”
“As it should be.”
Carlo and Andy came down the escalator side by side. Carlo was about five foot six and 140 pounds. He had shaved his head since she’d seen him last, and added a wispy moustache that only partly hid the scar running down the right side of his nose to his mouth. Andy was an inch shorter and a good ten pounds lighter. His thick black hair was brushed straight back and gelled into place. To her relief they were both wearing long-sleeved shirts buttoned right up to the neck. She could still see the tip of a dragon’s tail on Carlo’s neck, but she had to search to find it.
Their eyes scanned the arrivals hall, looking for her. She waved and Andy saw her. He nudged his partner and they both waved back.
“They don’t speak English,” she said to Martin. “So I apologize in advance for the fact that we’ll be speaking Cantonese.”
They each carried one small bag. Ava knew they always travelled light, getting by with a toilet kit, a couple of shirts, a pair of jeans, and two sets of underwear for a week. When they reached her, they put down their bags and pressed the palms of their hands together in front of their chests, moving them up and down, their heads bent slightly forward. It was a sign of respect, a greeting to a superior. She wondered what Uncle had said to them
