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The sole person fortunately was a man with his back to her in the process of gathering up his garbage. Martha knew she only had seconds to carry out Steve’s wishes. Well she’d get her coffee first and then as she sat down facing him she’d let her coat fall open. ‘Yes, that’s what I’ll do,’ she said aloud though to no one. Martha carefully fed the five dollar bill into the slot and pushed the button. She looked over her shoulder at the man. At least he was nicely dressed. As the machine worked its magic her mind worked its own magic. ‘If only… ,’ she sighed. ‘Damn it to hell,’ the change return was set very low. Well with any luck he’d be facing her and she could moon him and be done with Steve’s silly request. Never once did she think even to herself that she wouldn’t comply. Bending from the waist she reached for her change while she peeked to see if he was looking. Martha wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to be looking or not. He wasn’t there. Just then from nowhere a deep. Where is that anyway? Never mind.’ the girl was adamant on the other end of the line. She’d sat through a half hour of some sob story of Lacey being swept off her feet by some cowboy or another. She couldn’t stand to be quiet anymore. ‘You’ve known the guy what… a week? Be practical Lizzy. Nothing happens in a week. God. If it did, I would’ve been married a dozen times over by now. Listen. Get on your plane, come back home, and we’ll sort all this out, okay? We’ll sit down over Starbuck’s and ham sandwiches and we’ll discuss… oh, I don’t know. Ad layouts. You’ll be fine.’ Lacey nodded, choking on her own tears and sniffled into the phone. ‘I know … you’re right. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Maybe my dad’s death is just catching up with me … I don’t know … maybe it’s this place. I swear to God, there’s nothing out here, much less a Starbuck’s.’ She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Tyra was right, this was insane. It had only been two weeks … if she was back in the city, she.
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He looked down at something beneath the counter, then nodded. ‘Take the elevator to the sixth floor,’ he said. ‘Mr. Dunson is waiting in the Green Room.’ Green Room. Got it. ‘Thank you,’ I said, then headed to the elevator. I heard the man make a soft, appreciative whistle behind me. I smiled. This is gonna be fun . . . . At the sixth floor — which struck me as odd, since I thought this was only a five-story building — I stepped out into a small lobby with red-painted walls and soft lighting. There was something gentle and operatic wafting out from hidden speakers. There were two doors in the far wall and a woman in a long black gown seated on a little chair. She stood as I emerged. I thought she looked something like Elvira. ‘Good evening, my dear,’ she said with a smile. Her voice was smooth and sultry. I figured she could have a career as a phone-sex operator. ‘Are you meeting someone?’ ‘Yes. Mr. Dunson. I was told he is in the Green Room.’ ‘Elvira’ gave me a very appraising look..

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