an extended period. The last was the most fun, at least as far as conversation was concerned.

“She has to be a guy,” Valerie said.

“I hate to disagree, but she isn’t.”

Nathaniel shook his head, and was silently glad they had grabbed one of the back booths. Valerie’s voice tended to carry, even when they weren’t trying to talk over music. The subject of their discussion was blissfully unaware of it all. She was in her own world, and happily butchering a show tune beyond recognition.

“Don’t defend him; I didn’t say it was a bad drag job,” Valerie said.

“That is because it isn’t a drag job. Just because she has a somewhat rough voice…”

“That voice could grind glass into powder.”

“Lots of women have deep voices.”

“And more men.”

“I am amazed you haven’t gotten us thrown out of somewhere by our ears by now.”

“I haven’t been trying to. Would you like me to?”

Valerie gave a sly smile over her drink, and Nathaniel returned it, with only a momentary roll of his eyes. The song ended and the singer took a long drag on her cigarette, and then started up on the next. Valerie winced and thought about leaving, she actually liked this song. Still, the conversation wasn’t done.

“It isn’t the voice so much,” she said. “It’s the jaw you could open walnuts with and the calves of a none too fit horse.”

“You’re just defensive because she’s taller than you.”

“Oh, now you are in for it, buster.”

“Promises promises. In this town it is ridiculous to wonder, we will just wander down to the clubs where you are guaranteed to be right.”

“Tempting, but no. Let’s wander back to see if the Irish guys have started brawling yet.”

“Oh, no, you are not going back to flirt with the band again. Bad enough you got them dueling onstage.”

“Little ol’ me?”

“Little?”

Valerie reached under the table and pinched his ribs. Nathaniel returned the favor, and then was out of his seat and moving toward the door before she could retaliate. She followed, sweet murder in her eye, and they hit the streets again.

Valerie bounced through the Quarter with the curiosity of a kitten and the energy of a puppy. It was all Nathaniel could do to keep up, but his smile never faded. If anything, as she became happier and more enthralled with the evening, he seemed to relax and go with the flow more and more.

Finally she decided it was time for a rest, and they paused in one of the quieter bars. The band, most likely a cover group from their general appearance and instruments, were taking a brief break. The couple found seats at the end of the bar and ordered drinks. Valerie leaned past Nathaniel to snag a bowl of bar peanuts, and he was enjoying the view too much to comment.

“Hey, Val!”

The voice came from behind her, and startled she froze for a minute, still outstretched. She tried to regain some dignity, pulling the bowl back and smoothing her hands down her sides before turning around. Coming toward her from the direction of the stage was Kid Blue.

“Valerie McCandles! You finally got around to coming to hear me play,” he said.

“Well, of course I did,” Valerie covered. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Why, Valerie, you didn’t tell me a friend of yours worked in this club,” Nathaniel said smiling.

Valerie tossed him a warning glare, and if anything his smile widened.

“I wasn’t sure he was playing tonight, but thought we should check,” she said.

Kid Blue looked from one to the other, and his face clouded a bit with disappointment and confusion. He shrugged it off.

“Hey, let me get you two some drinks.”

“No need,” Nathaniel said. “I’ve already picked up this round.”

“Then the next is on me, hear that?”

The bartender nodded to Kid Blue and put out empty cups to mark the next round bought. Nathaniel nodded and stuck out his hand.

“I’m Nathaniel by the way, and yourself?”

“Kid Blue.”

The two shook hands, and held the contact looking over each other.

“I think your band’s about ready for you.”

Nathaniel nodded to the stage, where the other musicians were indeed gathering. Kid Blue looked hesitant, casting a glance toward Valerie. However, he quickly shrugged again, and when Nathaniel finally released his hand turned back to the stage. Nathaniel leaned in to Valerie.

“Musicians, hmm?” he said.

“Oh, shush, I helped him move a couch.” Valerie turned back to her drink.

“How much did it move?”

“Oh!”

Valerie punched him in the shoulder, and it wasn’t very playful. He rubbed it and looked from her to the stage and back. By now the group was warming into their first number.

“Let’s leave,” he said.

“I can’t, not now that he thinks I came here just to listen. In a little while maybe.”

“I don’t want to stay.” Nathaniel leaned in to her, his voice a little more forceful than she had heard it before.

“Well…neither do I really…anymore. But it would be insulting, and maybe hurtful. We’ll just finish the drinks first.”

“This round, not the next.”

They looked each other in the eye for a long moment. Valerie shook her head, breaking the contact first. Then she shook it harder, almost as if clearing it.

“No, that really would be an insult. But only these two rounds.”

“Fine.”

Nathaniel sighed and leaned back, seemingly more put out than Valerie understood. He kept glancing at her a little oddly, but the booze and music helped ease them back into a cheerful mood. By the time they left, they were arm in arm.

Kid Blue watched them go, not even getting a wave from Valerie in parting. He shrugged, and started a blues riff for the next song.

Forty-three

Griffen opened his eyes, and instantly regretted it.

Despite thick drapes over his windows, light had pierced through. Not soft afternoon or early evening light either. The direct, harsh light of noon. Which meant he had only had about six hours of sleep, if that. What was worse, he knew he was fully awake, even if regretting it. He didn’t have a clue what to do with himself, but trying to force sleep was worse than useless. It wouldn’t have been such a conundrum if this hadn’t turned out to be one of the rare mornings he awoke alone.

So he forced himself up, and a hot shower took care of the last dregs of sleep. Surveying the fridge was nearly as hopeless as trying to sleep. Besides, his stomach wasn’t quite recovered enough from the night before to want food. What he really could use was the hair of the dog. Even if he didn’t usually drink so early, one glass sipped slowly would do a world of good. That decided, he headed out the door.

And back in the door.

“Shades, shades would be good.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes and went rummaging. Moving faster

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