Though not much bigger than a regular sedan, Nikki’s Mercedes was stretched just enough to qualify as a limo. Instead of brushing up against the seat in front of me, I could stretch my legs all the way out, barely touching the back of the front seat. It was incredibly luxurious with a bar, fold-down tables, electrical outlets, and laptops. Nikki could entertain or run the board room from the back seat of this car. I was impressed, and a little worried. She had to have some purpose for this car and me in it.
“Okay, spill,” I said.
“You may wish to dress,” she pointed to a hanging garment bag.
I sighed. I knew it was going to be a tux, and I didn’t mind wearing one, except I’d rather dress up to dance. If I was going to be a detective, I wouldn’t feel like myself in such formal digs.
I shot her a look.
“It’s important that people not think too deeply on your purpose other than as, shall we say, a casual physical relationship.”
“A Boy-toy,” I said.
“It will give me cause to continue to call you dumpling?” That drew a smile, but it seemed forced. Whatever was bugging her was big.
“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be suitably impressed when they know you could do so much better.”
“Perhaps so, but while they may question my decision to settle, they won’t think that your professional prowess is why you are there.”
I unzipped the garment bag to reveal the tux. “What, you couldn’t get the white jacket?
“Rick Blaine would stand out, tonight, and I very much need you to work behind the scenes.”
“You owe me dancing where I get to dress up lie Rick.” I said, loosening my tie.