She had not been offered a choice of companion, but she flashed Tyl a wink behind Rigel’s back to let him know that she’d still be interested in exploring orange body hair just as soon as she disposed of the beanpole American Express logo in sandwich wrap. Seemingly unaware, Rigel led the way. He was careful not to touch her, and the world duly rearranged itself around them. They arrived at her door without any embarrassing incidents such as her falling flat on her face. Overhead, the waiters were clearing the table they had just left and Tyl was in the pool again, floating on his back, staring down at her. “See you in court tomorrow,” Rigel said, smiling inside his absurd helmet. “It should be very educational.” “I have nothing else on my calendar.” She reached for the handle. “You don’t want to come in?” What she meant was, I need a man now, and you know you’re only a boy, don’t you? It might have been the champagne, or maybe it was the rum, but the words didn’t come out with quite the emphasis she’d intended, and Rigel beamed a huge smile.
