Page 68 of Angels Fall

“You are so full of shit!” the big guy with the polka-dot bow tie and tan blazer says to his equally big and mustachioed boyfriend in the paisley smoking jacket.

“I swear to God,” says Mustache, “Gerry knows Cher’s stylist and he told Gerry that it looks just as good as a nineteen-year old’s!” (If someone heard just that part of the story, without context, Lord knows what they would think it’s about.)

Everyone laughs uproariously. Me and Maddie included. Evan and Robert’s friends are the most fun group I’ve been around in a long time. They keep giving me shit about my beard. Mustache is a salon owner and tells me that he’s “dying to get his hands on me.” Which in turn led his bow-tied boyfriend to shout, “Me first!” and again, laughter ensued. They just seem like a fun bunch.

They’re also all pretty drunk on wine and turkey.

“So, Maddie,” a bald guy with more rings than fingers says as he leans across the table, “what do you do? Model? You must be a model. You’re gorgeous! I would kill for that hair!”

“Bitch, you’d kill for any hair,” says a short African-American guy.

More laughter. But not from Maddie. Shit. What’s she supposed to say? She’s a stripper? She can’t tell them that she works in real estate drone…ing, or whatever it’s called. She doesn’t really. And if she presents that in front of Robert, like this… Fuck. She’s in an impossible position.

I’m just about to knock over a glass of wine on purpose to distract everyone when Robert chimes in and says, “We’re working together.”

If I could capture the look on Maddie’s face and hold it forever, I absolutely would.

“Really?” asks Mustache. “On what, do tell?”

“The Hoover Dam project.”

If Maddie had wine in her mouth at this moment, I swear she’d do a spit take.

The look on Evan’s face as he looks at Robert is one of absolute, unequivocal, pure love. Hell, the look on my face as I look at Robert is probably the same.

“In fact, Maddie,” Robert says, cool as the cucumbers in the cucumber salad (Which was really very delicious. There must have been some mint in the dressing. Anyway. Not important), “What I really need is some topographical coverage of it at night. Which is impossible to get any way other than the drone. When do you think you can make that happen?”

It’s like one of those old commercials where everyone stops what they’re doing to hear what the broker’s advice is. All heads turn to Maddie.

“Uh,” Maddie says. “This…week…end?”

“Great,” says Robert. And then just like in the commercials, everyone goes back to laughing and joking and eating.

Maddie turns to me and kind of whispers, “What. Just. Happened?”

“I think you just got into business with Robert Vanderbilt,” I whisper back.

“Jesus,” she says.

“Can I take you?” I ask her.

“What? Whatayou mean? Take me where?”

“The dam. If you’re really gonna go there this weekend, can I take you? I know one of the guys who watches it at night. I can get him to let us have full access.”

“I have a drone. I don’t need full access.”

“OK. Then can I take you because it’ll be pretty and nice and I’ve always been kind of obsessed with it and I just kinda wanna take you someplace and like do something with you and have it be cool and not weird and please don’t make me beg and come on don’t be an asshole lemme please just take you on a date to the Hoover Dam?”

She stares at me like I’m crazy. Which is the right stare to have.

“Did I say all that aloud?” I ask.

She shakes her head a tiny bit and laughs.

“My parents are here until Saturday afternoon,” she says. “And I have to…um…work…Saturday night, so…”

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up from work on Saturday.”