A great deal of money had gone into restoring it to its 1920s glory, and inside the place was done up in period antiques. Nothing proves success like a roomful of old furniture you’re afraid to sit on. The only things out of time were the thoroughly modern Apple computer and the beautiful girl behind the Napoleoniclooking desk. She stood up when Spandau came in. She was nearly as tall as he was, physically flawless, the sort of girl Spandau, as a lustful teenager in Arizona, believed he would never meet. Here, they were everywhere, and it always took some time to get used to it. Her hair was long and blonde and danced like a perfectly choreographed companion, never missing its mark. A model. An actress. Hometown beauty queen waiting for the big break that was hers by right of her virtual perfection. One day somebody would walk in here and discover her. Let’s forget the million and a half in town just like her, or the curious fact that some of our most successful actresses look like pizza waitresses when you meet them.
