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elevated status ’cause they’re recognized as havin’ superior social sensitivity and special knowledge. Isn’t that a nice attitude to have?”
    My curiosity was piqued. “Did she say which culture that was?”
    “Some ‘Islanders.’”
    “‘Long’?” New Yorkers had always elevated gay actors, dress designers, and artists to celebrity status.
    “I’m pretty sure it was ‘Trobriand,’ but ‘Long’ was a good guess.” She smiled at me in the same way she used to when we’d share tea and cookies together when I was a little girl. “Tilly and me are goin’ out for a bite to eat after she wakes up. You wanna join us, dear? I don’t want you to think I’m ignorin’ you when you’re all alone.”
    “Thanks anyway, but I’ll probably splurge on something from the minibar a little later. And, actually…” I paused for dramatic effect. “I’m not alone. You’ll never guess who signed up for the tour.”
    “Inspector Miceli.”
    There were times when my grandmother’s mental powers were absolutely scary. “You guessed. How did you guess?”
    “He spoke to me in the lobby while I was waitin’ for my key. Such a nice young man. A real hottie. That Ashley person thinks so too, ’cause she was all over him.”
    Heat sizzled up my neck and scalded my cheeks. If this was a precursor to hot flashes, I wanted nothing to do with the real thing. “What do you mean,‘all over him’?”
    “Well, dear, she wanted to know his name, where he was from, what he did for a livin’, if he was married. Battin’ her eyelashes and attachin’ herself to his arm like static cling. I’d watch out for her if I was you, Emily.”
    I returned to my room feeling like a juggler with one too many balls to keep in the air. I composed a mental “To Do” list. One: Keep Nana away from Jack. Even though I could trust Nana with the information about Jack’s operation, there was no telling how a group of conservative Midwesterners would react if word leaked out that their esteemed escort was once married to another “female” on the tour. It wouldn’t exactly be a selling point on my résumé.
    Two: Keep Ashley away from Jack. Considering how well their first encounter had gone, they could very well come to blows. It would be a tragedy if they ended up killing each other, especially after all the surgery Jack had recently undergone.
    Three: Keep Etienne away from Jack. I wasn’t real sure how this introduction would play out. Jack probably wouldn’t have any problem handling it, but I was less sure about Etienne. I was breaking new ground here. My guess was, this topic hadn’t even been covered in “Dear Abby” yet.
    I massaged a sudden throbbing in my temples as I contemplated my three tasks. Was it my imagination, or did most of my problems revolve around Jack? Just like when we were married. Everything always revolved around Jack. Maybe I couldn’t juggle all the balls myself. Maybe I needed help. Maybe I should simply break down and talk to Jack. Hmm. I liked that idea. Simple. Efficient. It sounded like something Nana would suggest.
    I marched into the hall and knocked on Jack’s door. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I returned to my room and downed two ExcedrinPM. Maybe it was jet lag. Maybe it was stress. Whatever the reason, my head suddenly felt as if it had a little man inside who was hacking his way out with a really big hammer. I unzipped my boots, slipped them off, and curled up on the bed, rehearsing how I could ask Jack to pretend not to know me without hurting his feelings. Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t in his room. This gave me more time to figure out what to say and how to say it.
    I scratched an itchy spot at the back of my neck where my turtleneck was irritating my skin. Felt as if the tag was poking into me. I should get up and cut it off, but at the moment, I was too sluggish to even think about it. I heard a door slam in the hall and a faint echo of conversation in the