"Look, Mavis – "

"And he's incredibly creative. I've watched him come up with stuff on screen. It's wild."

"Yeah, wild. I'm thinking – "

"He really understands the inner soul," Mavis hurried on. She understood Eve's inner soul, and knew her friend was ready to bolt. Mavis Freestone, slim as a fairy in her white and gold rompers and three-inch air platforms, tossed back her curling mane of white-streaked black hair, judged her opponent, and grinned. "He's going to make you the most rocking bride in New York."

"Mavis." Eve narrowed her eyes to forestall another interruption. "I just want something that won't make me feel like an idiot."

Mavis beamed, the new winged heart tattoo on her biceps fluttering as she lifted a hand to her breast. " Dallas, trust me."

"No," Eve said even as Mavis pulled her back to the glide. "I mean it, Mavis. I'll just order something off screen."

"Over my dead body," Mavis muttered, clumping her way down to the street entrance, dragging Eve behind her. "The least you can do is look, talk to him. Give the guy a chance." She thrust out her bottom lip, a formidable weapon when painted magenta. "Don't be such a squash, Dallas."

"Shit, I'm here, anyway."

Rushed with success, Mavis bounced to the whining security camera. "Mavis Freestone and Eve Dallas, for Leonardo."

The outer door opened with a grinding clunk. Mavis made a beeline for the old wire-screened elevator. "This place is really into retro. I think Leonardo might even stay here after he hits. You know, eccentric artist and all that."

"Right." Eve closed her eyes and prayed as the elevator bumped its way upward. She was taking the stairs down, absolutely.

"Now, keep an open mind," Mavis ordered, "and let Leonardo take care of you. Darling!" She positively flowed out of the dinky elevator and into a cluttered, colorful space. Eve had to admire her.