The group stops. "Uno momento, Bongo,"I say, noticing the worried glances he's throwing Kenny Kenny, who'sconnected in some weird way to Glorious Foods and has yet to beinformed he has nothing to do with catering tomorrow night's dinner.Peyton, JD, Bongo, Kenny Kenny, camcorder guy and Details girlwait for me to do something, and since I'm at a loss I peer over thethird-floor railing. "Come on, guys. Shit, I mean I've got threemore floors and five more bars to check. Please, give me some space.This is all very hard. Those specks almost made me literally sick."

"Victor, no one would deny the existence of the specks,"Peyton says carefully. "But you have to place the specks withina, um, certain, well, context."

On one of the monitors lining the walls on the third floor, MTV, acommercial, Helena Christensen, "Rock the Vote."

"Beau!" I yell up. "Beau?

Beau leans over the top railing. "Chloe says she'll be at MetroCC at eleven-thirty."

"Wait, Beau—Ingrid Chavez? HasIngrid Chavez RSVP'd?" I yell up.

"I'm checking—wait, for the dinner?"

"Yes, and I'm gritting my teeth, Beau. Check the Cs for dinner."

"Oh my god I have got to speak to you,Victor," Bongo says in an accent so thick I'm unsure of itsorigin, grabbing my arm. "You must let me have my timewith you."

"Bongo, why don't you just get get the the hell out of here,"Kenny Kenny says, his face twisted. "Here, Victor, try acrouton."

I snatch one out of his hands. "Mmm, rosemary. Delish, dude."

"It is sage, Victor. Sage."

"You you sh-sh-should go to hell," Bongo sputters. "Andtake that sickening crouton with you."