Page 18 of Bad Star

“What do you know?”

“A little, but if it’s more than the person I’m talking to, I can pretend that it’s a lot.”

“I normally judge a bottle by its price,” said Chelsea.

Jack nodded. “I expect you do.”

“So, how much did that cost you?”

Jack lifted the bottle and gazed unsteadily at the label. “Four figures. Most probably.”

Chelsea sniffed. “It will do.”

Jack opened the bottle and took two glasses from a cupboard and they sat on stools by the breakfast bars. Chelsea did her make-up, for no reason that Jack could possibly see.

“Nice legs,” said Jack.

“Thanks.”

“Very strong thigh muscles. Good for gripping.” He poured the champagne. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” said Chelsea, still doing her make-up.

Jack drank the champagne. It was very good. Or he imagined it was very good, it was difficult to tell after all that he had drunk.

“So,” he said, “how are you?”

“What?” said Chelsea, putting down her mirror.

“How are you?”

She looked at him as if he were speaking Sanskrit.

“I’ve been out to a sushi restaurant with a guy who would have been happier eating fried chicken in a hot tub. But he bought me a ring.” She raised a finger to show Jack the ring. “Bit gaudy, I know. We got photographed leaving together. So, I suppose that’s alright.”

“Excellent,” said Jack.

“And now I’m here and you’re going to give me a sapphire and some coke and we’ll have sex the Jack way. That’s how I am.”

They looked at each other for a moment and she looked suddenly very young to him and he wondered if he looked the same to her.

“The Jack way?” he said.

“You know, the way you like it.”

“And you like it too.”

She smiled and took a sip of her wine. “You’ve got a lot of energy for busy man.”

“You bet I have,” he winked.

“And some moves.”

“I’ve got some tricks,” he acknowledged, nodding quite seriously. “We dogs have them.”

“Just the tricks,” said Chelsea. “I don’t want the ticks.”

“And the drugs, of course,” said Jack.