“Look at who we got here,” Brenda said, eyeing Ranger. “I swear, you are so hot, I could just eat you up. Sugar, I gotta get me some of you.”
Rangers smile was still in place. Hard to tell if he was enjoying himself or being polite.
“Stephanie and I are providing security,” he said.
“Do you have a name?”
“Ranger.”
“Like the Long Ranger?” Brenda asked.
There was a moments pause while I debated correcting Brenda, but truth is, we all knew exactly what she was asking. Finally, Ranger stepped forward and opened the suite door.
“Like an Army Ranger,” he said.
Brenda slithered through the door, rubbing against Ranger in the process. “I hear Army guys have big guns.”
Nancy and I did some eye-rolling, and Ranger remained pleasantly impassive.
I was the last to leave the room. “I've seen your gun,?
?? I whispered to Ranger.
“Would you like me to tell her about it?”
“Not necessary, but we could discuss it over a glass of wine later.”
Nancy took the lead and punched the elevator button. The doors opened, we stepped in, and Brenda moved close to Ranger. “So, Hot Cakes, are you with me for the night?”
“Stephanie and I will be with you until you return to your hotel room,” Ranger said.
“Sometimes I need my bodyguards to spend the entire night with me,” Brenda said to Ranger.
This produced more eye-rolling from Nancy and me and more passive pleasantness from Ranger. The doors opened, and we moved into the crush of people in the lobby. Nancy led the way, and I followed Nancy, with Brenda sandwiched between Ranger and me. We cut a swath through the crowd to the meet-and-greet room.
Once we were inside the room and the door was closed behind us, the atmosphere became much more calm. These were patrons of the charity, and they'd paid a huge amount of money to have a private audience with Brenda. She accepted a champagne flute, drained it, and reached for a second.
“This isn't so bad,” I said to Ranger. “It's not like someone is shooting at her. And so far, she hasn't totally exposed herself. You got groped in the elevator, but you're probably used to that.”
“Yeah,” Ranger said. “It happens a lot.”
A forty-something woman approached Brenda.
“What is this?” the woman asked, pointing to Brenda's jacket.
“A jacket?”
“What kind of jacket?”
“What kind do you think it is?”
“I think it's mink.”
“Bingo,” Brenda said.
“You have a lot of nerve,” the woman said. “Was this done as a deliberate insult?”
“Sweetheart,” Brenda said, “when I insult someone they know they've been insulted.”