Read Vanity, Vengeance And A Weekend In Vegas (A Sophie Katz Novel) for Free Online Page A

Sam
Spade are SO much more uplifting than an oversexed octopus.”  
    Dena shook her head. “Why does it
always have to be an either or situation with you.” She held up the octopus.
“Rent a couple of old movies and multitask.”
    I laughed and shook my head.
“Come on, Marcus is waiting for us.”
    “Sophie, there’s at least ten
more booths I need to stop by before I can get out of here for the night.”
    I glanced around the room. There
was a woman in a black leather cat suit dancing around using nipple clamps as
finger cymbals.
    “Can I go then?” I asked.  
    Dena sighed. “You have no
appreciation for innovation. Fine. Go meet Marcus. I’ll be there in an hour.

 
    When I got to Hotel Noir Marcus
was sitting at the bar tapping his fingers nervously against his martini glass.
That gave me a moment’s pause. Marcus had a thing about martini glasses. You
could gesture with one in your hand but it had to be a smooth elegant gesture,
demonstrating not only your sophistication but also your ability not to
spill.   Tapping was not
allowed.   And tapping out of time
with the music, which was exactly what Marcus was doing, was a major Marcus No-No. Something
had thrown him off his game.
    Carefully, I weaved my way
through the crowd of unsophisticated, spill-prone revelers and made it to his
side.   When he saw me his mouth
turned up in a small and fleeting smile.  
    “Don’t tell me,” I said slowly.
“The Maltese Falcon is sold out for the whole weekend.   No, worse, The Maltese Falcon is sold
out AND you gambled me away in a poker game so now I have to be the beard to
some fat, hairy, closet-case with an evangelical family.”
    Marcus smiled wistfully. “Honey,
you’re describing a category four hurricane.   We’re being pummeled with a category six.” He signaled to
the unusually attentive female bartender that he wanted another drink like the
half empty one in his hand.   “Did
you come in through the main lobby?”
    I shook my head.   “I came in through the entrance
over—”
    “Good,” Marcus said cutting me
off. Our drink arrived and I could have sworn the bartender’s eyes lingered a
second longer than necessary on Marcus’ Dolce & Gabbana covered
shoulders.   Someone needed their gaydar
checked.
    “It’s the house specialty,”
Marcus said as he pushed the drink toward me.   “They call it A Touch Of Evil which is apparently just
another way of saying Spicy Martini.”
    “What kind of Vodka do they use?”
    “Grey Goose, double shot.”
    “I love you Marcus. Of all my
friends you’re my favorite enabler.”’
    “I love you too.” He hesitated a
moment before adding, “Honey, Anatoly is here.”
    I chocked on my double shot
martini.
    “My Anatoly?”
    “How many Anatoly’s do you think
I know?”
    “He followed me here,” I said
quietly.   He had used his
professional sleuthing skills, found out I was coming to Vegas and followed me
here! This was bad. It was stalkerish and it infringed on my privacy. Totally
inappropriate in every single way.
    So why did I feel so giddy?
    I took another long sip of my
drink, not because I needed to take the edge off but because I needed the glass
to hide my smile.
    “He came all the way to Vegas for
me.” I put the glass down and forced my mouth into a frown. “Well he’s totally
crossed the line. I don’t care if he’s been crying himself to sleep every
night, he can’t just follow me around the country. It’s pathetic and I’ll tell
him—”
    “Sophie, if I tell you
something…something you won’t like, do you promise not to go all Carrie
Underwood on me?”
    “Carrie Underwood?” I repeated,
suddenly feeling lost.
    “You know that song where she
slashes her cheating boyfriend’s tires and carves her name into his leather
seats? Don’t do that, okay?”
    “Why would I want to carve my
name into leather seats?”
    “Well, you probably wouldn’t…but
then again you might if I told you that Anatoly was here