Dudes Down Under (9 page)

“
Buzz off, Ginny. I want to talk to Lana for a sec.”

“
Oh, sure, Lucy.”

“‘
sup, Lucy?” asked Lana.

“
I wanted to thank you for stepping in and calming things down this afternoon. You know, with the ex-wife situation.”

“
Mmm, yeah, it’s a little worrying. I’m hopin’ that Tristan keeps a lid on his temper. Izzy is being really cool about the whole deal but Kylie needs to get over it big time. Doesn’t seem to matter what anybody says, she’s convinced she’ll win him back.”

“
Why? I mean, yeah, he is gorgeous but he did fall in love with another woman while he was still married. That’s not always the best recipe for a long and happy life together.”

“
It’s more a case of hurt pride with Kylie, I think. Plus, the damned press won’t let it alone. I don’t think anyone can change her mind. I have tried and so have a lot of other people. The thing is, well, Izzy is a very popular lady, not just with men either. She is a honey, while Kylie, you know, she just doesn’t seem to endear herself so well.”

“
I’m shocked. Not. As long as she behaves herself while she’s here, that’s her business. I would really hate to have to tell her to leave.”

“
My God! You would do that? Seriously?”

“
If I have reason to believe that she is deliberately causing trouble with other guests, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“
Shit! You really mean that, don’t you?”

“
Why so surprised?”

“
I don’t know. It’s just ... well, yeah, I suppose you’re right. Why not? Anyone else would have to go. I guess fame is just not as important here, is it? You know something, Lucy, that is so damned refreshing.”

“
Refreshing? I don’t know about that. It’s just the way we are.”

“
So, enough already. Let’s go eat.”

“
I’m with you, Lana. Lead the way.”

The two women walked off together, still chatting and laughing. They were being closely observed.

Kylie Andrews was not happy. She was not happy at all.

Chapter 9

Skeet wandered out to the Bar-B-Q area, closely followed by Cyril. They both attracted a lot of attention, for different reasons.

Skeet was almost too good looking for his own good but he had no idea what he was doing to the female pulse rates in the room.

Cyril, on the other hand, was making pulses race for very different reasons. Even in his tux t-shirt, there was no disguising the fact that he was a very large crocodile. Cyril wasn’t at all concerned. He’d been fed and was looking forward to his beer and some good music.

Look at these women - hubba-hubba. Man, they breed ‘em beautiful over there. What I wouldn’t give for a cuddle or three with Izzy Jones, or any of these other ladies. Mmm … except maybe that Vanessa Dayton. She looked like she could freeze hell over without workin’ up a sweat. Talk about ice-maiden. I wonder what that means. How could ya have a maiden made of ice, unless the place is called Ice and then ‘made in ice’ would make sense. Whoa, that’s deep. I’ll have another beer and ponder that one.

Skeet headed for the microphone. “Hey, this is a great turnout.
 
Looks like most of you Yanks decided to have a go at the food. Who tried the croc steaks? Don’t be bashful. Cyril is cool. He knows it isn’t his family, doncha, Cyril?”

Cyril belched good and loud, ensuring everyone thought he agreed with Skeet.
Just hurry up with my beer. Enough of this play-the-crowd bullshit!

“
All right, that’s great, most of you have tried them. Was anyone game enough to eat the witchity grub stew?” No hands were raised to that question. Skeet laughed. “Smart people. I’ve never even tried that one. Enjoy the remainder of your evening, folks. The band will be on shortly. They play requests, so if you've got a favorite, don’t hesitate to ask. Not you, Cyril!” Cyril was thumping his tail and grunting. “I know what you wanna hear, mate. Later, okay? C’mon, I’ll get ya a beer or ten. Oh folks, one more thing. If ya wanna buy my mate Cyril here a drink, please go ahead. But only beer, okay.
 
That Jack Daniels stuff gave him the mother of all hangovers. Trust me, he was one unhappy croc!”

*  *  *

Sidney Sheridan sat sulking at one end of the bar. God, these people were boring. Even those on the A list that she had been hanging to meet didn’t seem terribly exciting.

I guess that’s the problem. They’re all as jaded as I am, except most of them are game enough to do something about it. Why bother? It’s easier to just sit back and allow others to entertain me. She glanced around her. Let me see now, whom can I have some fun with? Hmm, that silly receptionist … what was her name again? Yes, she could provide some entertainment for a short while.

“
Lucy, I said casual dress for the dance. I did, didn’t I?” Didi asked as she sat herself down.

Lucy laughed delightedly at Didi’s facial expression. “Yes you did, Didi. To these people this is casual. They are wearing designer label casual, that’s the only difference.”

“
Yeah, the only difference. Right, gotcha, Luce. When did you last have an eye test, mate?”

Lucy laughed again. She was enjoying the spectacle of watching some of the most famous faces and bodies in the world enjoying themselves on her dance floor. She sighed contentedly. Most of these people appeared to be having the time of their lives. Sure, they hadn’t learned to let it rip the Aussie way yet, however it was only the second night. So far the novelty was holding. Well, for most of them anyway. Lucy glanced over at Sidney Sheridan. The young woman wore a permanent pout. The sulky expression sure wasn’t encouraging anyone to ask her to dance.

Lucy stood and excused herself to Didi. She walked quickly into the backstage area and had a chat to a few of the staff. These guys were hunks and they knew it. They were employed to dance with, and mingle with, the guests. No hanky-panky unless, of course, the guests made their own arrangements privately. Lucy deemed what the staff did in their own time to be their own damned business.

Satisfied that she had that little detail under control, she returned to the ballroom.

Lucy looked around. She could see no sign of the obnoxious Ed Guest.
Wherever he is, I hope he stays there. Hmm, probably counting his money and figuring out a way to buy this place. No chance, no chance in hell! Some of these people are odd. Like what on earth is wrong with that silly Sidney person? My God, she’s only young, too young to be that jaded with life. I’ll have to give that some thought later.

“
Well now, Lucy, dinner was quite remarkable,” said Ed Guest.

Lucy jumped. She hadn’t heard the man come up behind her. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“
Ah yes. I have been sitting quietly enjoying the 60s vintage music.”

“
Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you around the same uh … vintage?” Lucy could have bitten her tongue out. Damn, this man bought out her defenses. She was about to find some way to apologize when he surprised her by laughing. It seemed unforced.

“
Oh, Lucy, what is it about me that has you so on edge?”

“
I don’t know for sure but I doubt you can change it.”
Doh! I did it again! I gotta get out of here before I say any more of this shit
. “You will excuse me? I believe Skeet is trying to get my attention.”

Lucy got up and hurried over to where Skeet, Lana Peters and Sidney Sheridan were all crowded around Cyril. Ed Guest remained where he was, watching Lucy much like a cat who watches a mouse just before it pounces.

“
Aww c’mon, mate, stop sulking. It’s not time yet.” Skeet was down on his haunches having a discussion with Cyril.

“
Whatsa matter, like, with the alligator?” asked Sidney.

“
Whoa. First up, mate, he ain’t a 'gator, he’s a crocodile.”

“
Well, my bad. So, like, is the crocodile sick?”

“
No, mate, he’s sulking.”

“
Well now, Sidney girlfriend. You know what that looks like,” Lana Peters said with her teeth gritted.

That comment went right over Sidney’s blonde head. “Like, what’s he sulking about?”

“
He has a favorite song he likes to hear over and over again. We just haven’t played it yet. So he sulks.”

Too bloody right I sulk. I didn’t get to dance. No, not me. And nobody wanted to buy me one of those great Jack Daniels things. Just bloody beer, mate. I bet you had something to do with that. Hmmm, didnya? Yeah, well you think you’ve seen me sulk before, Skeet. Watch this!

“
Aww c’mon, mate, don’t do that. Jesus. H. Christ, Cyril, ya makin’ a spectacle of yourself.”

Cyril had flipped over completely and lay on his back, holding his four legs straight up.

The women around him began laughing, “Oh, he’s so cute. Why don’t you play his song for him, Skeet?” asked Lana.

Skeet blushed to the roots of his thick black hair. “Well, it’s not the sorta song you lot would expect for a crocodile to like. The band have only played it for him in front of us staff, ya know. It’s not the right beat for this sorta dance. Didya hear what I said, Cyril?”

Of course I heard what you said. I’m not deaf. If you can play that rock ’n' roll stuff, which I loved by the way, then you can damned well play my bloody song. I’m not gonna roll back over and be a good little crocodile until ya do. If I could hold my breath, I would, so there!

“
Oh, poor baby!” Sidney Sheridan surprised the hell out of the onlookers by sitting on the floor next to Cyril and stroking his tummy, “Poor baby, the bad man won’t play your song.”

Holy shit? What the …? That had better not be your hand, Skeet. I love ya mate, and you are my first best friend, so I’d really hate having to remove it permanently from your body. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head! Whoa, who is that? Mmm, hey that feels … oooh!
 
Who is that? Just a bit higher, please. Is that a woman? A real honest-to-God female biped human woman? Whoo-hoo, I just knew my charisma would break through the stupid species barrier thingy. Who is it? Who cares? I think I’m in love.

Skeet was gob-smacked. He’d never seen a woman do that to a crocodile before. Come to think of it, he’d never seen anyone do that to a crocodile before.

The way Cyril was squirming around he was a touch touched as well. “Um, Sidney, Sidney mate, I’m gonna play his song. You can stop that now," said Skeet.

“
Well, okay, as long as you do. What is his song anyways? ‘Crocodile Rock’, I’ll bet.”

“
No, not exactly. I’ll go and get the band clued up. Please don’t rub his tummy without me being present, okay. He may get, um, er, confused.”

Lucy ran over to Skeet. “Did I just see what I thought I saw? Well, I’ll be damned. Who would have thought that little girl would have the spunk to do that?
 
What’s up, Skeet? You look like a stunned mullet, my friend.”

“
What? Oh hi, Lucy. I’m gonna have the band play his song, then I’ll go and put him to bed.”

“
Skeet? Skeet? Hello, earth to planet Skeet. Are you pissed, Skeet? I’ve never seen you pissed. Your eyes are all glazed over. Have you been smoking whacky tabacky or something?”

“
Oh, me? No, must be just tired, I guess. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. Don’t worry, Lucy. Now I’d better get this song under way and get our boy Cyril off to bed.”

Lucy was a little perplexed. Skeet was being weird. Maybe it was all the company he was now keeping. Lucy wasn’t too surprised; the place was surely developing some strange situations. Yup, strange all right, but hell, it was sure interesting.

Skeet organized the band and again headed for the microphone. “Folks, if I can have your attention for just a moment. Um, well, er-hem, Cyril’s a little upset 'cause we ain’t played his favorite song yet. I wanna go tuck him in bed, so if you don’t mind the band will play it. It’s not exactly modern dance music, but, aww hell, you’ll see what I mean.”

Skeet jumped down from the stage and went back to join Cyril.
 
Sidney was now with a couple of the other guests who had gathered to watch Cyril’s behavior.

“
All right, ya bloody spoilt croc, they are gonna play it. Um, Miss Sheridan, you might like to move back away just a little. He gets kinda enthusiastic when he hears it.”

The auditorium lights began to dim and glorious colors of pink, violet and silver flashed around the room. The band began to play. The gentle strains of ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ filled the room, and the lead singer’s voice did justice to the classic.

Cyril flipped right side up, his eyes became glazed over, and he began a rhythmic swaying, grunting tunelessly to the sound. Everyone in the auditorium stopped chattering and most of them took up vantage points to watch the 28-foot Crocodile in the tuxedo t-shirt sway in perfect time to the ageless music. When it ended and the lights came up, nobody missed the fact that Cyril was smiling a huge crocodile smile, and crocodile tears ran down his face.