Cat Scratch Cleaver

give a quick look around, and sure enough, it makes perfect sense. An entire bevy of beautiful women are pawing over average, at best, slovenly looking men. This entire place is a hooker hovel for those wanting to trade their bits and pieces for bit parts in bad pieces—movies.
A righteous anger begins to boil in my veins. I just hate the thought of innocent women being taken advantage of, even if they’re not that innocent.
Stacy asks us to follow her and we’re led to the right, through a swarm of bodies as we’re seated near the back at a small table that looks as if it could hardly accommodate two, let alone four, but there are four chairs, so I’m sure it will all work out.
She leans my way, and I’m suddenly engulfed by her sugary perfume.
“He’s right behind you on the Naugahyde sofa going over scripts.”
I glance back and spot the silver fox with a stack of paper on the small table in front of him and a buxom brunette in his lap. Another look-alike brunette sits to his side, pawing over him as if she couldn’t wait to take a ride on the Peter Olsen Express as Stacy so eloquently put it.
“It looks as if he’s got his hands full,” I whisper.
Stacy bats her hand at the thought. “Don’t worry about interrupting. It’s the name of the game. All you have to do is let the girls know you want five minutes alone with him. They’ll beat it and head to the next guy.”
“Next guy, huh?” I take a quick look around, and sure enough, there are enough sleazy looking men with stacks of paper in front of them to qualify as the next guy.
Stacy straightens. “I’ll get you ladies a round of iced tea on the house. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
Juni lifts a finger. “Make sure my iced tea makes a trip to Long Island by way of the bar.”
“Gotcha!” Stacy laughs as she takes off.
Juni bops her head to the twangy music pulsing through the place. “Hey? I wonder if I can land me a job at a snazzy place like this?”
“I don’t know.” Georgie shakes her head as she gives a quick look around. “I get the feeling this is the kind of place where you need to sleep your way to the top.”
I nod. “You’re intuitive, Georgie. That’s exactly the kind of place this is—sleezy.” Speaking of sleezy. “Hey, would you mind if I asked Darby a few questions once he gets here?”
She hitches a wiry gray brow into her forehead. “Why, that’s a brilliant idea. You distract him while I go troll the bar for hot men.” She shoots me with her fingers. “I always knew you’d grow up to be my best wing woman.”
“I’m glad I’m living up to your expectations.”
Juni fluffs her hair with her fingers. “I’m about to do the same. Mr. Hot Buns at six o’clock is my mark. Wish me lick.”
“You mean luck,” Georgie corrects.
Juni winks. “I mean lick. I won’t be needing any luck.”
I crane my neck to where her attention is pinned. Technically, that would be ten o’clock even from her vantage point, but I’m not going to argue the finer points of a clock face with her when I’ve clearly got a much bigger bone to pick with her licker.
“Juni,” I hiss. “Are you talking about the burly man with his face burnt to a red crisp? The one with a bright orange T-shirt and the fancy government-issued bracelet around his left leg?”
“Yup.” Juni pulls out her lipstick and blindly applies a caustic shade of red, adding a fourth of an inch to her upper lip.
“Juni, the guy probably got that sunburn by working on a chain gang. And newsflash, the sheriff’s department is keeping tabs on him.”
“That’s how I know I’ll be safe.” She gives a quick wink my way. “But don’t you worry, I’m betting a guy like that knows how to raise a little hell.”
“And a felony or two,” I say as she zips off in his direction.
No sooner does a round of iced teas land at our table than Darby, the portly, balding, date of Georgie’s, lands in Juni’s seat and takes a sip of her drink.
“Woo-wee!” He gives a wistful shake of the head. He’s donned yet another Hawaiian shirt, and I’m guessing this is an ongoing theme with him. This time it’s pink with palm trees and hula girls sprinkled about. “Looks like my little mama knows what I like.” He picks up Georgie’s hand and lands a kiss to the back of it. “How’s it going, hot stuff?”
Georgie waggles her brows. “Better now that you’re here,” she says in her sultriest voice, and suddenly I feel both violated and like a third wheel all at the same time. “Darby, this is my friend, Bizzy Baker. She’s in charge of the inn where Cat Scratch Fever is being filmed.”
His face contorts into a rather dramatic look of surprise. I’m guessing bad acting is his specialty.
“Darby Atwater at your service.” He extends a hand my way, and I’m quick to shake it.
“So nice to meet you.” I scoot my chair his way as to not miss a single word that’s about to come out of his mouth.
Well, lookie here. He glances down at my seat. Looks like the spring chicken wants a bite out of Grandpa, too. Can’t say I blame her. He broadens his chest unnecessarily. This shirt has long since been a honey trap. I knew it was overkill for this place, but then I can’t tell if Georgie Pordgie is a sure thing just yet. He shoots a quick look to Georgie, then me. Wait a minute. What if this is one of those two-for-one deals? Maybe I really did hit the jackpot with the old gal?
Georgie takes a sip of her drink before slamming it down onto the table.
“Would you look at that?” She slides it forward with a dramatic flair. “Someone