“Watch your mouth, girl,” Uncle Whiney cautioned with one hand on his Bloody Mary, and the other around a laughing Tina, who reached over to fist bump Jean.
“I don’t have an excuse,” Rachel said. “I feel guilty being in a VIP lounge. We’ll be flying in a private jet with limousine services everywhere we touch down. We don’t handle our baggage or stand in long security lines. It’s the hormones raging. I’m nuts. I can’t enjoy anything. All I see are the harried unhappy faces out there in the airport. Did you see the looks we got when we were escorted in here?”
“Okay, that’s it, let’s put this to a vote,” Nick said. “All those in favor of Rachel riding commercial air in coach raise your hand.”
Rachel gasped as her companions all raised a hand, including Jean.
“You got voted off the island, Mom.”
“Tina?”
“Sorry, girlfriend, but you need to count your blessings. This is where anyone in their right mind wants to be in an airport, especially when you’re six months pregnant with the spawn of the devil.”
Gus shrugged as Nick glared at him while the others laughed. “I may have mentioned that unfortunate phrase Rachel invented to Tina. What made you decide to stay at Trump International?”
“We have Deke with us, and they’re dog friendly. The place overlooks Central Park. Besides, a lot of celebrities stay there, Gus.”
Gus took Nick’s meaning that the Trump International Hotel might be doing double duty. “I’ll bet they do. Deke will love the Central Park part. I have to admit, I’ve been to New York, but never with the accommodations you have us booked into. We’re going to get settled in at the hotel before you have to meet with anyone, aren’t we?”
“Definitely,” Nick replied. “My agent and editor will be dining with us tonight at the hotel, so we don’t have to go anywhere else at all today.”
Rachel hugged Nick, as happy sounds greeted the no pressure night Nick had planned. “Now that I like. You’ve fixed my perspective with one sentence. I hope Deke’s behaving himself.”
“Deke’s a trooper. He hangs his head and plots revenge until he again is in our company,” Nick replied. “He’ll be in the limo. I paid extra for a limousine service that loves pets for a price. Gus and I earned a tidy sum that will keep us spending in splendor throughout this road trip. We will have a great time in New York, except for my business affair with the editor who shall not be named. She wants to discuss doing away with nearly a third of the preview I’ve sent in. Yeah… that’ll happen. Another big surprise is there’s a celebrity moving through this VIP lounge before we head to the Trump International. Gus will be entertained meeting the celebrity VIP guest here in the lounge.”
Everyone but Gus instantly pondered who it might be with excitement. Gus eyed Nick in a way there was no question the celebrity would not be one to savor a meeting with. “You did not manipulate our VIP lounge time to interact with Mohammed Dafar. Please… tell me you didn’t.”
“How perceptive of you, Gus. I have indeed been advised of Mr. Dafar’s arrival in the next five minutes if he’s on schedule,” Nick replied, glancing at his watch. “You don’t seem as enthused as I thought you’d be.”
“Oh… I’m very excited. I thought you might be a bit more circumspect when crossing paths with such a celebrity. After all, he’s more of a political celebrity than an entertainment one… unless you count the one star hit pieces he does on your novels, Muerto.”
“He does what?” Rachel had already been monitoring the verbal exchange with suspicion. Hearing a supposed celebrity’s name she’d never heard of, coupled with Gus’s inference the guy hated Nick’s novels, had Rachel thinking this was a Nick prank. “Okay… Muerto… what’s this all about?”
“Nothing, my love. Mohammed Dafar is scheduled to speak in front of the United Nations next week. I would call that a celebrity. Gus has a suspicious mind that I wish he wouldn’t channel in public. If Dafar gets here before we get routed out, it’ll be fun. He’s a whacko, traitorous, son-of-a-bitch, but he is entertaining... in a decidedly McCarty way of thinking.”
Rachel noted where the conversation was going, and where it would end. She didn’t know how much Jean perceived, but anything other than a weird meeting with the Dafar guy would not be revealed through her observations. “We’ll be glad to meet with Mr. Dafar.”