Three Fates

not,” Cleo interrupted. “And I’ve got another appointment. Fish or cut bait.”
    “All right. But I’m not carrying that kind of cash into this place.” She looked around, a faint line of annoyance between her perfect eyebrows. “A restaurant, Cleo. Let’s be civilized. You pick the spot if you don’t trust me.”
    “That’s reasonable. Teresa’s in the East Village. I’ve got a yen for some goulash. Make it one o’clock.”
    “One o’clock.” Anita offered her hand again. “And if you decide to give up the theater, I could use someone like you at Morningside.”
    “Thanks, but I’ll stick with what I know. See you tomorrow.”
    She waited until Anita was back in the elevator. Then she counted to ten, slowly. When she turned to where Mikey was waiting, she broke out in a grin.
    She did a quick tap-shuffle in his direction. “Kiss me, baby, I’m rich!”
    “She went for it?”
    “All the way. Put up a struggle, but not much of one. Overreacted to some stuff, underreacted to others.” She hooked her arm through Mikey’s. “She’s not as good as she thinks she is. She’ll cough up the dough because I’ve got what she wants.”
    “I never got the chance to hulk and look mean.”
    “Sorry, you’d’ve been great.” She walked with him through the souvenir shop to the elevators. “You know the first thing I’m going to do when I get the money? I’m throwing a big, kick-ass party. No, first I’m buying a place, then I’m throwing a big, kick-ass party.”
    “Guess you won’t be heading out to the cattle calls anymore.”
    “You kidding?” She squeezed in the elevator car with him. “Let me wallow in it for a week, maybe two. Then I’m going to every audition my agent can push me into. You know how it is, Mikey. Gotta dance.”
    “I can get you a shot at the chorus of Kiss Me, Kate. ”
    “No shit? That’d be great! When?”
    “Let me put the word in with the director tonight.”
    “Told you my luck was changing.” She rode on it all the way down to ground level.
    “I’ve got to split,” she said on the street. “Go meet Slick.”
    “Why don’t you come to the show tonight? I’ll get you a couple house seats and introduce you to the director.”
    “Cool. I love you, Mikey.” She gave him a long, noisy kiss. “Look, I’ll meet you back at your place in a few hours. I’m going to buy a big bottle of champagne.”
    “Buy two. We’ll get toasted after the show.”
    “That’s a deal. I love you, Mikey.”
    “I love you, Cleopatra.”
    He headed west, she headed east. As she crossed the street, she glanced back, laughing like a loon when he threw her a kiss. With a spring in her step she started uptown. Right on schedule, she thought. She’d meet Gideon on the east corner of Fifty-first and Fifth, maybe grab some pizza. She’d tell him she needed another day or two to get the statue.
    He wouldn’t like it, but she’d smooth it out. And when she handed him four hundred thousand dollars the next day, he’d have no room to bitch.
    She’d talk him into staying in New York for a while. Maybe Mikey was right about the thing between them. Not the romance part, that wasn’t in the cards. But she had a good feeling when she was with him. She liked the steady side of him as much as she liked the reckless one. What was wrong with wanting a little more time with both?
    The glint from a jewelry display caught her eye, had her moving toward the window. She’d buy Mikey something to thank him for the help. Something extravagant.
    She brooded over the gold neck chains—too ordinary—and the flash of stones—too gaudy. Slowing her pace, she browsed from window to window, then let out a little ah ha! at the wink of a thin gold anklet with ruby cabochons.
    Tailor-made for Mikey, she decided and tilted her head in hopes of seeing the price tag tucked discreetly under the chain.
    She froze that way, her nose all but pressed to the window, her body in a slight dip as she caught a reflection in the glass.
    She knew that face. Though he was turned away from her in profile, as if studying the traffic, she recognized him. They’d all but run over him on the street in Prague.
    Shit, shit, shit! She straightened, then moved casually on, as if to study the offerings in the next display. He didn’t follow, but angled his body a little more toward her.
    Anita fucking Gaye, she thought. So businesslike, the professional dealer. And she’d sent out one of her goons. Well, that