Blind Date

“Better safe than sorry.” He winked and pressed the penny into her hand, folding her fingers carefully over it. “I think you’ll be glad we picked this one up.” Annie was surprised the coin felt warm. She would have opened her hand to look at it, but they had reached the front of the line and a voice distracted her.

“Who are you?” The doorman’s eyes swept over her and Annie felt herself shrinking.

“A-Annie Thanos.” She stumbled over her own name as he glanced down at the clipboard he was holding.

“You’re not on my list.”

Damn Dita. Of course, she would end up waiting out here this whole time and not be on the list to get in! After the coffee bean fiasco and the bizarre honey bee pursuit, Annie wouldn’t put anything past the woman.

“She’s on my list, Doc.” Herman winked as he slipped his coat off her shoulders. The sudden change in temperature made Annie shiver as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Let her in.”

“All right.” The doorman gave Herman a nod and stepped aside.

“Aren’t you coming?” Annie stared back, incredulous, as she started through the door.

“Nope.” Herman waved her on. “I like it better in line…between Scylla and Charybdis!” She shook her head at the obscure reference to Greek mythology-

the origin of the phrase “between a rock and a hard place.” He winked and disappeared back into the line as she made her way into the club, and she didn’t have any more time to wonder at his strange allusion.

The club was dark and loud and sought to swallow her whole. There were so many people it was hard to move. So much for exclusive. She shaded her eyes against the pulsing colored lights and looked for Dita. How was she ever going to find her? The club was huge, laid out in several levels, very like a warehouse with steel railings and stairways. The place was hazed with a thick blue light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Annie noted the lights located high above, placed sporadically on the warehouse ceiling.

Looking up, she spotted a crowd of people on the second level, all grouped together. Then she heard a high, familiar laugh, floating over the pounding of the music coming through the dance floor speakers that were taller than she was. She knew she had found Dita.

Annie’s boot heels clicked against the metal as she made her way through the couples dancing together on the stairs. Edging her way against the railing, Annie made her way toward the throng of people that surrounded Dita as if she were some modern day Scarlett O’Hara entertaining a crowd of would-be suitors.

Dita’s eyes met hers through the crowd and Annie reached into her skirt pocket to pull out the jar of honey she had put there on her way out the door that night.

She waved the honey back and forth and heard Dita squeal in delight as she stood and beckoned to Annie.

“Oh, yes!” The woman’s voice was unmistakable. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Dita moved toward her. The woman snatched the jar of honey from Annie’s hand and held it up to the light as if she were looking at gold.

“Perfect! Lovely! Thank you, dear.”

Annie pursed her lips and put a hand on each hip. She had to speak loudly to be heard over the music. “Eric doesn’t live with Virgil!” Dita raised her eyebrows. “I never said he did. Would you like a drink?”

“No…thanks.” Annie shook her head, eyeing the older woman. “Why didn’t you just give me Eric’s address?”

“I didn’t know if he wanted you to have it,” Dita confessed with a smile.

“Would you mind running down to the bar to get me a drink? I’m simply parched!” Annie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure one of your…followers…would be happy to do it.” She glanced around at the throng of onlookers, who were quietly watching them both. “I just want to know where Eric is. Tell me and I’ll go.”

“Now dearest…” Dita put her arm around Annie’s shoulders and steered her toward the stairwell. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just be a love and run down to the bar and ask the white-haired gentleman back there for a Black Death.”

“A…what?” Annie frowned at the older woman. If that was a drink, it was one she had never heard of.

“A Black Death,” Dita repeated clearly. “And if he tries to make it with vodka, be sure to tell him you want the real thing.” Annie shook her head and sighed as she tromped her way back down the stairs. She found herself standing dutifully at the bar, waiting in line for a drink.

Just like a good little girl. Her face burned and she looked down at the glass in the bartender’s hand, her mood darkening as she moved to the front of the line.

“Can I have a Black Death, please?” Annie asked the white-haired bartender. She had made sure she was in his line, just like Dita had directed. He lifted the hood covering his snowy head and raised his eyebrows at her. All the bartenders were dressed in black robes with hoods, probably to accentuate the whole River Styx theme, she mused, as the old man stood and blinked at her.