“Wow,” I said, instantly feeling more confident. “That’s so much better than the house tequila I’m used to gagging down.” I glanced back at Xander, who was speaking to another woman. That guy was not distracted from his objective. Hi, I’m Xander, he probably said like a nerd. What’s your name? Elizabeth? No? Well, get to getting, then.
“What’s your name?” my new friend asked.
“Joseph,” I said, feeling relieved she had broken that ice instead of me. “You?”
“Dakota,” she said, not saying Elizabeth.
Did I shove her off like Xander would have done, then approach the next woman, who statistically wouldn’t be Elizabeth? I had to do something, otherwise Mel would be lost to me forever.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I extended my hand to shake hers. I realized, much too late, that they hadn’t warmed completely.
She gripped my palm though, wrapping her nimble, warm fingers around the cold, meaty part of my hand. “A pleasure,” she said. “Are you cold?”
If I had snuck a gun into the lounge, I would have pulled it from my waistband and blown out my brains right then and there. But I didn’t have a gun. So, I cleared my throat again, really hammering home the fact that I had a strong build-up of phlegm. “I have a strange question,” I said, ignoring hers. “As you probably figured out, this place isn’t really my scene.”
“Not a question,” she said, holding up a finger. “And I couldn’t tell.”
I scratched my chin, unsure how she meant that comment, and I focused on not clearing my throat. “I’m looking for a woman named Elizabeth. My idiotic friend set me up on a blind date, said this girl would be here, at this lounge, tonight.”
Dakota adjusted a small hoop earring dangling from her lobe, then ran her hair behind her ear with a finger. “What’s she look like?”
“That’s the thing,” I said, feeling more like a moron than ever. “He only allowed me her first name. He didn’t say what she looks like, where she’d be sitting, what she’d be drinking. Nothing. I could ask the bartenders, but imagine how many women named Elizabeth walk through here. What would they know without actually seeing a picture of the girl?”
Dakota frowned, then perked and called, “Bartender, ma’am!”
“Bartender, ma’am?” I asked, baffled.
She shrugged. The bartender shuffled over. “Yes?” she asked, not looking too excited.
“Another two shots of the house tequila,” Dakota said. She turned to me. “I have a plan.”
The bartender shook her head. “As long as your plan doesn’t include hacking on my bar or breaking something.”
Dakota ticked her head side to side. “We should be fine on those two fronts.” She looked at me. “You’re not going to hack after another shot, are you? No offense, but you kind of look like a lightweight.”
“I’m not going to hack,” I said, face burning. From the alcohol, though, not from embarrassment of her assessment of me.
“On the card?” the bartender asked, after sliding us two more shots.
“Por favor. Under Clark,” Dakota said, grabbing her miniature glass and raising it above her head. Again, I mirrored her. “To Elizabeth.”
“May she be found,” I toasted. We threw back the liquor, chasing it this time with a lime.
“Watch this,” she said with an excited grin. She climbed onto her stool and stepped onto the bar. “Elizabeth!” she screamed over the music and the conversations running through the lounge. “Any Elizabeths in this place, I need your immediate attention in this area!”
“Get the fuck down from there!” the bartender said.
“Last call for any Elizabeths! You won a thousand dollars! Come and collect your prize!” Dakota leapt off the bar and bowed before me. In a much more inside voice, she said, “Now, we wait.”
I stared at her, my mouth agape. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Xander looking at me, brows furrowed. He shrugged at me. I shrugged back and shook my head, signaling that I had no idea what had happened and was just as baffled as everyone else.
“Ma’am,” said a hefty voice.
I turned away from Xander and saw a large bald man, sans a neck, wearing a black security shirt, standing beside Dakota.
“I’m sorry,” Dakota said to him, batting her eyes. “I was just trying to help a friend.” She poked out her tongue and pouted, as if elementary flirting might help her case. Who the fuck knew? Maybe it would. I would have given her a pass.
“Well,” the bouncer said, “you and your friend both need to leave, then. The bar isn’t a jungle gym for your amusement. Let’s go.” He sidestepped to create our exit path and gestured for the both of us to hightail it on out.
“Uh,” I said to the bartender, not really opting to jump out of my seat. “I’m not leaving this place until closing time. So, go ahead and focus that sour glower on someone else.”
Old almond head sniffled, ignoring me completely. He asked Dakota, “You’re together?”
I glanced at her. No, we’re not, I meant to say. I needed to remain in the lounge and speak to every Elizabeth there, to find the one who knew about Hecate’s whereabouts, and threaten imminent death upon her if she didn’t release that information to me. “We are,” I said, standing in Dakota’s corner like an idiot about to lose his daughter.
She smirked, poking her tongue at me and winking.
“Listen, sir,” Dakota said, touching the bouncer’s anaconda forearms with her light, warm fingers. “He didn’t know what I was going to do. He didn’t stand on the bar. That was all me. Let him stay. I’ll leave without further incident.” She stretched on her tiptoes and leaned close to him and whispered in his ear.
After a second of consideration, the behemoth said, “Fine.” He relaxed a tad—though, I don’t understand how. If Dakota had put her lips that close to me, I would have stiffened like Xander’s scotch. “But if he makes any more trouble—”
“Then I’m out on my ass,” I finished for him. “You’ve got yourself a deal,
