Crushed Ice by Eric Pete

isn’t she?”
    â€œSorry there’s no audio, but you had me on a short timetable,” I offered, imagining again what sensual sounds were present that night.
    Ignoring me, he inquired, “Who’s the woman with her?”
    â€œSomeone random.”
    â€œUh-huh,” he scoffed. “Then why is her face blurred?”
    â€œBecause you didn’t pay for her. You wanted something on Natalia, and that’s what I delivered.”
    â€œShit. She’s someone famous?” he asked about the obscured Sophia anyway, evidently aroused and not expecting an answer. “With a body like that, I’ll bet she is. Damn.”
    â€œI’ve done what I’m supposed to, so I’d appreciate your doing the same.”
    â€œFair enough, Truth,” he responded, extending his hand for me to shake it. I declined. “I’m looking forward to more good stuff from you.”
    â€œNot if I can help it.”
    Knowing the worm was at least good for his money, I left him with the product and returned to the main room. It took a while to find Sophia, but when I did, she was just about to take to the dance floor with some Italian guy. I ignored him and pressed on.
    â€œC’mon, let’s go,” I said, grabbing her by the arm. She wriggled free, adjusting the top of her strapless orange dress. I gave a stern glance to Fabio, or whatever his name was, telling him to move on.
    â€œYou forgot your promise already,” Sophia barked.
    â€œWe have a plane to catch. Stop playing.”
    â€œI’m not playing. One dance, then we can go.”
    It was too long in one place. Too many people knew I was here. But against my better judgment, I obliged.
    We danced to a roaring master-mix by Mark Ronson, close to one another, as Sophia showed me what she was working with. Time slipped by as I gave in to the rush of the moment. Driving bass and Sophia’s moving hips could be most persuasive. Besides, the flight back to Dallas didn’t leave for several hours. In the middle of business, I found myself having fun.
    Sophia wrapped her arms around my neck, slowing her movement during the break in the music. She wanted to kiss me again. As her lips came closer, she abruptly stopped their progress.
    â€œCompany. Six o’clock,” she said, gazing over my shoulder. I whipped her around in a turn so I could have a better look.
    Jason.
    He glad-handed everyone as he approached us, the faux smile never leaving his face.
    â€œI thought you were leaving, Truth.”
    â€œIt’s a free country. Felt like a dance.”
    â€œTrue that, nephew,” he teased. Slang always sounded so hollow, so false whenever he attempted it. “You didn’t tell me you had a date though. Jules—er, SmithSonian said he’d run into you earlier, so I came down to see if you were still here. Forgive me for being a doting uncle rather than a music mogul just this once.”
    â€œHe’s your uncle?” Sophia asked. I could tell from her expression that she recognized who Jason North was.
    â€œThat I am, my dear,” Jason replied for me. He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Jason North at your service.”
    â€œTiffany,” she stated in kind, remembering the name I’d used with SmithSonian. Good girl.
    â€œHave we met before?” he asked, as if the memory was on the tip of his tongue. In actuality, the memory was on the tip of his finger when he’d pressed “play” on the DVD player.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Sophia replied. Again, something triggered the hairs on the back of my neck. Time to go.
    â€œTruth has impeccable taste whenever he lets others see it,” Jason stated.
    Sophia blushed, although I wasn’t sure if she was faking it for effect.
    â€œIs there something you wanted? Or do you just feel like fu—”
    I froze. Over the throng of people in the main room, a face stood out. I’d only spent