a couple years, for sure. Nobody in LA talks like that. They talk like, ah, you know, ah, like totally, really—”
“Like really not like you?” Grant said.
“Precisely! Everybody should talk like me. There would be less wasted time, more time to get on with things.”
“Not to mention complete clarity.”
“Exactly!”
“You look pretty good for a hermit. Let’s get the ball rolling in this nice bar and see what they’ve got. Oh boy, and a pretty one back there to bring us the medicine!” Rex said, noticing Isobelle emerging from the back room behind the bar. “Do I know how to pick ’em, or what?”
“I might not need any medicine.” Grant scratched his head.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Isobelle approached them.
“She’s talkin to me,” Rex said, looking at Grant, then back to the woman.
“Obviously not, or she would have said ‘dipshit.’ ”
“Better let me take this one, you’ve undoubtedly been through an ordeal, so would hate to see you fuck this up from the get go.”
“Said Prince Charming.”
“Damn straight.” Rex turned to the bartender. “Hello there! You must be the owner, because someone as good looking as you are would not be working here.”
“Welcome to the Ritz. If I owned the Ritz-Carlton, I would most certainly not be working behind the bar. I see you are either looking for free drinks or a job. You must be the friend.”
“Every day of my life. The ‘free drinks’ part, anyway.”
She looked at Grant, he shrugged his shoulders.
“You are so sweet,” the woman said, still looking at Grant, talking to Rex. “I’m pretty sure we are not hiring, but the free drinks are up to me. I think I will give one to the quiet one here.” Isobelle smiled at Grant.
“What about me?” Rex pleaded.
“Can you keep quiet?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, we should run a little test and I will tell you how you do. What can I get you?”
“I’d love something with tequila, if you please, ma’am.”
“Oh, shit,” Grant said, putting his hand up to his head.
“I think that’s a good starting point, don’t you?” Rex turned to see the hotel staffer he had flagged down to get his bag. “Oh, good, here, thanks chief. Name on the room is Schmidt, Rex Schmidt.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of money that looked like each bill had been wadded up individually before it was wadded up with the rest. He found a ten dollar bill and gave it to the staffer.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You got it, chief. Don’t be going through that, I think there’s dirty clothes and my pet wolverine in there, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The staffer looked at Rex, not knowing what to say.
“I’m kidding.”
“All right, sir.” The staffer turned to leave.
“It’s not a wolverine, it’s a badger.”
The staffer stopped walking, looked down at the bag he was carrying, then walked away.
“So, where were we?” Rex turned back to Grant & Isobelle. “Something about telepathy? How am I doing? I’m Rex, by the way.” He held out his hand.
“You are the friend. I have heard about you.” Isobelle shook his hand. “Your friend has had a difficult day, and says he needs some quiet. As for you, the troubles you have are not yet over. You still have a ways to go yet. As for right now, you are taking a test … a test to see how quiet you can be today,” Isobelle said, laughing at him.
“A test? This yokel here put you up to that? How do you know about my troubles? Are you working for the government?”
“Remember, you are taking a test. It’s nice to meet you, Rex,” she said in a whisper, then let go of his hand. “And no, I am not working for the government.”
CHAPTER 2
“How about a margarita?” Rex asked.
“No one by that name works here,” Isobelle replied, looking at Grant.
“The drink, you know, with tequila and lime. Margarita.”
“Does your friend want one of those as well?”
“He wants what I tell him to want,” Rex pushed Grant on the shoulder.
“Is that so?” Isobelle asked Grant.
“I never want what he tells me, except for now,” Grant replied. “Maybe you could tell him what he wants.”
“I do not think so. I have just met him, but I could believe that it might be difficult for anyone to tell him anything. I will bring the margaritas.” Isobelle turned away to prepare the drinks, quickly glancing at Grant.
The woman certainly had a confidence about her. Her movements were fluid, never deliberate. Grant had been in countless bars before, but he had never seen a woman move with the same grace or sense of purpose before, though the more he thought about it, her composure did remind him somewhat of Annie. Her comment about his trauma, along with the feeling that he had seen her face somewhere before perplexed him. He wondered how she had known about his accident.
“See, I told you it was a good idea to come here. Man, am I beat, and hungry too. You suppose they got some good food around here? ‘Cause I’m fucking hungry!” Rex said, intervening in Grant’s thoughts.
“Always thinking of the others, aren’t you? You are always fucking hungry.”
“Sorry, forgot you got in a wreck today. What the hell, man? How long before your—and you can’t drive for a while, either?”
“That’s what they said,” his eyes still fixed on Isobelle.
“Well, that sucks.”
“I may have to hang here for an extra couple of days. They probably still won’t get my truck fixed by then,” Grant said.
“Lucky to be alive, I guess,” Rex said, sincerely.
“Just like always. What about you?”
“Well, like I told you, I have been under the gun, and am not sure when that’s going to clear. I didn’t do anything, but those fuckers sometimes just pop you because they can. I didn’t want to talk about it on the phone.”
“Because
