"Yes, I can see that," Gil said. He ran his eyes over her crotch and breasts lecherously. "You're a big girl all right. Are you twenty-one?"

"Yes," Connie answered blinking in surprise. "Why?"

"Never mind," Gil said, taking her by the hand. "That means you're old enough to have a drink and – and everything. Come on, I want to talk to you, honey. Come with me."

Connie looked a little helplessly at Victor and Sherry but nevertheless permitted Gil to lift her to her feet. "Where-where are we going?" she asked, glancing at Sherry for approval. Sherry could see through Connie's false reluctance to depart with the agent of Sherry Trent. She would probably go anywhere with anybody she thought was important.

"Go ahead," Sherry coaxed. "Gil just wants to show you around, convince everybody that he's not in his forties." She winked.

"Well, if you think it's all right," Connie said. "Okay then. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Sure," Sherry said. "Have fun, dear. Gil's really quite harmless." She remembered the night she had made love with Gil and her comment was directed somewhat cruelly at Gil who had not been able to make her reach an orgasm.

"Bye-bye," she said, as Gil tugged her by the hand toward the hotel.

"Catch the act tonight," Gil called as they walked away.

Victor stared after Connie who was literally tripping as Gil whisked her away rapidly. "God, I hate Las Vegas," he said.

"Gil's just lonely," Sherry explained.

"You mean horny," her father said.

"Well, I guess they're the same thing," Sherry said. "Speaking of horny, what time do you feel like taking our nap?" An afternoon nap prior to the first show had become a ritual with them, as it was with many performers. Sometimes a nap was just that, but sometimes it meant fucking too. If they planned on fucking they began the nap earlier. Sherry wanted to get the schedule set in her mind.