“Take your time,” said Nate.

“Nice to meet you,” said Hope. “A Bloody Mary, please.”

I found a phone from where I could still keep an eye on Nate and Hope and dialed home.

Karen’s probably over this baby thing by now, I thought. Probably just a bad case of hormones.

Karen answered on the third ring.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.”

Her voice was as warm as a January morning in Chicago.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Not pregnant.”

And hung up.

I stood pretending to be listening, then hung up and walked back to the bar to rescue Hope.

“Who did you call?” Natty muttered. “Time and temperature?”

Then he turned back to Hope.

“Well,” I said, “it’s probably about time to check out and head for the airport.”

They weren’t listening.

“Nice lounge,” Nate said.

“Very pleasant,” answered Hope.

“A little noisy, though,” Nate said.

Oh, God.

“Hard to conduct a conversation,” Hope agreed.

Nate said, “I wish there were a quiet place we could have a nice chat.”

“That would be lovely.”

I watched as Nate feigned deep thought, then said, “I have an idea!”

I’ll bet you do.

“We could go up to my room,” Nate suggested.

Surprise, surprise.

“By the time we check out,” I said, “park…”

“Room service,” Nate said.

“… get our boarding passes…”

“A little drink, a little chat…” Nate said. “Talk over old times. Nothing you’d be interested in, Neal.”

Hope looked over Natty’s shoulder and gave me a look. One of those significant looks. A “Help me” look.

“You just can’t get to the airport too early these days,” I said.

“Or you can always catch a later flight,” said Nate.

Hope slid off the stool and said, “Could I have a word with you, Neal? Alone?”