"Denial's behind all your problems." He took a deep drag, then removed the cigarette from his mouth and pointed it at her. "What you need to do is accept Beast House."

What a load, she thought.

She said, "Ah. Okay."

"And it'll accept you," he added.

She nodded.

"I can help you with that."

"You can?"

"You want to get over it, don't you?"

"Sure."

"You almost have to get over it. You're a Beast House guide. How can you be a guide if the place makes you sick?"

"Wouldn't be easy."

"I just so happen to have a foolproof treatment. Are you interested?"

"I guess so."

"Good. After work, we'll go and have dinner together and get started."

"Started?"

"On your treatment." He tossed the cigarette stub to the pavement and mashed it under his shoe.

"During dinner tonight?" Dana asked.

He flashed a smile. "Everybody has to eat. How about the Carriage House restaurant? Have you ever eaten there?"

"No, but..."

"It's the best eatery in town. The only place in town where it's possible to get a decent dinner."

"I'm afraid I can't," she said, shaking her head and trying to look apologetic. "Not tonight."

"It'll be on me."

"Well, thank you. That's very nice of you, Clyde, but I've already made plans for tonight."

"So?"

"What do you mean?" Dana asked.

"Make new plans."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be right."

Smirking, he shook his head and looked as if he pitied her.

"Well," he said, "it's your life."

"I can't go back on my word. I'm sorry. Maybe some other night."

"Maybe not," he said. "This might be your only chance."

Lord, I hope so.

Dana shrugged, frowned slightly and said, "Well, if it is, it is. That'd be up to you, I guess."

"Once bitten, twice shy."

"Nobody bit you."

With a smile that didn't look very friendly, he said, "You're making a very big mistake, you know."

"I guess I'll just have to live with it."

"You don't have to live with it. Just blow off this other guy while you've still got the chance."

"Can't."

"Who is he?"

"Nobody. None of your business."

"It's Warren, right?"

"It's not Warren."

Wish it was.

"Yeah, right."

"It's not."

"You don't want to go out with him." Clyde lit up another Camel. "He's a loser."

"Thanks for the tip."

"He's a fag."

Heat rushed to her face. "Shouldn't you be back in the ticket booth?"

"And sell tickets to who? You see any customers lining up?"

"Not at the moment."

"And you won't. Nobody ever shows up this late."

"Well, you don't have to stand here."

Grinning, he said, "You don't want to go out with a guy like Warren."

"I already told you, I'm not."

"So, then, you'll come to dinner with me tonight?"

"No!"

Smiling languidly, he blew smoke into her face. "Why not?"

"I-have-a-previous-engagement."

"Still?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"With Warren?"

"No."

"With who?"

"None of your business."

"A mystery date."

"Right. That's it. I have a mystery date."

"Where's he taking you?"

"I don't know. He's going to surprise me. And if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. None of this is your business, Clyde. You really oughta learn how to take 'no' for an answer. Now why don't you please drop it?"

Smiling with the cigarette pinched between his lips, he held up both hands as if surrendering. "All right," he said. "I'm dropping it "Thank you."

"It's your loss."

"I'm sure it is."

"Going out with some pathetic loser when you could be going out with me."

"I'll probably regret it."

"You'll definitely regret it." The smile still on his lips, his eyes went hard.

Dana felt a little cold and shaky inside.

That sure sounded like a threat. The creep just threatened me.

He turned away and stepped out of sight around the rear corner of the ticket booth. A moment later, the door banged shut.

Dama took an enormous breath, filling her lungs. She blew the air out through her pursed lips, then hopped up onto the stool.

She felt a little sick inside.

In her mind, she saw the sneer on Clyde's face as he said, He's a fag.

Warren's gay?

That figures. That just figures.

Unless maybe Clyde was lying. Wouldn't put it past him.

What a prick. I wouldn't go out with him if...

The hell with him. What about Warren?

Warren hadn't seemed gay. You couldn't always tell, though.

They didn't all prance around, flipping their hands in the air and rolling their eyes and talking like flamboyant broads. Many did, but certainly not all of them.

Tuck'll know, she told herself.

Might be nice if he is gay. Then we can just be friends, and not...

Damn it! just when you think you've met...

Off in the distance, the front door of Beast House swung open. Five or six people stepped out onto the porch and started down the stairs. A couple of them were taking their earphones off.

About time, Dana thought. Customers.

She hopped off the stool and waited for them.

When they arrived, she chatted with them and took their players. After they left, she rewound all the tapes, then returned the players to the shelves behind her stool.

The shelves were nearly full. Only a dozen or so players were still out.

She glanced at her wristwatch.