Somehow she detached herself from Posten and the others. By the time I reached her, she was alone.

"Hello, Brew." Her voice barely reached me through the din, but I didn't care. The noise gave me an excuse to stand close to her.

"I wondered when I would see you again."

"I didn't." If we hadn't been inundated with blows and heavy breathing, I probably would've sounded too loud, too eager.

"I wondered how much longer I'd survive without seeing you again."

She laughed warmly.

"And now we'll never know. I suppose I should feel disappointed."

"Do that," I warned her, "and I'll expire where I stand. I'm far too chivalrous to let a lady suffer disappointment in my presence."

She placed a hand like a jolt of electricity on my forearm.

"Oh, don't tempt me. Why, it's been" she laughed again "weeks since I watched a man expire for my sake."

"That's hard to believe." I hoped we were talking about the same thing.

"I would've thought you had them lined up around the block."

"Well, of course. But I'm selective." Archly.

"I hope you don't think I would allow just any man to expire for me?"

I couldn't think of a retort, so I concentrated on breathing. I didn't want to turn red right in front of her.

With her touch still on my forearm, she shifted closer and asked softly, "Do you have plans for dinner? I need to go back to the office for a while. Sammy and I have been talking business with Anson and Alex, and I'm supposed to write up a report. But I can be here again by six-thirty. Would you like to join me? In The Luxury's elegant coffee shop?"

Too quickly, I said, "Sure." Then I made an attempt to recover some semblance of poise.

"I might not be able to hold my breath that long, but I'll borrow a respirator from somewhere."

"Good." She squeezed my arm, then released it.

"Don't go looking for me. I'll find you. Just in case I run late."

She had a lot more self-possession than I did. She managed to turn away without staggering once which I couldn't have done. Hell, I almost fell over just watching her leave.

Come on, Axbrewder, I advised myself sternly. Pull yourself together.

Women like that aren't attracted to clowns like you. She must want something. But I couldn't help it. My knees trembled when I started to move again, and the hall seemed to revolve around me on an axis I couldn't identify.

Unsteadily I made my way toward Bernie. He'd hired me. Making outside plans without consulting him wasn't a good idea.

I could've sworn the man was asleep. He'd closed his eyes, and his shoulders rested lightly on the door behind him. Knowing how to nap on his feet was probably a survival skill in his job. But when I said his name, he looked at me without a twitch, and his gaze wasn't any more blurred than usual.

"No offense, Bernie," I said softly, "but have you considered delegating? You're the Chief of Security. You could assign all this standing around to someone else."

"You kidding?" he buzzed.

"And miss the excitement?" A moment later he added, "You did good, Axbrewder. Somebody gets hurt outside the rings, and the hotel shares liability."

I shrugged.

"Thanks." His good opinion made me uncomfortable. Awkwardly I changed the subject.

"I've been invited to have dinner with Ms. Messenger." A triumph of smooth transition.

"I wanted to check it out with you before I did it."

Bernie stabbed me with a look.

"This isn't a dating service," he snarled not unpleasantly.

"Get laid on your own time."

"Please, Bernie." Was I that obvious?

"I'm blushing."

He gathered himself for a stinging retort, so I hurried ahead.

"Would it be better if I pretend it's business? It is. Sort of. I want an in with Watchdog. Just in case" I waved a hand around the tournament "you know."

In case I did something Watchdog wanted me to account for. Or the tournament led to a better job.

Bernie's jaws worked, chewing nasty sounds to find one that tasted right. Finally he muttered, "Hotel policy. You're allowed to eat.

Damn indulgent, if you ask me. Your job's too cushy as it is. But I don't care who you eat with."

A moment later, he added, "And stop trying to get on my good side."

Loneliness scraped like a raw nerve in his tone.

"I told you I don't want to like you too much."

I sighed.

"I can't help it, Bernie. It's my nature."

"Fuck your nature," he rasped so that only I could hear him.

"Fuck Messenger. Just do your job."

Coming from him, that was the undiluted milk of human kindness.

I wanted to do something for him, but I couldn't think what. He needed friends, and I was just a temporary employee. Besides, I'd spent too many years drunk. I'd lost the knack for friendship.