Graden was actually the intended recipient of the largesse. He’d garnered a fan club in Aruba after helping to catch a serial rapist who was targeting the guests at the Caribbean Queen, the island’s city-sized twelve-star resort. Other than Natalee Holloway’s disappearance, serious crime just didn’t happen in Aruba. Theft-mostly petty-drunk driving, and weed were about the extent of it. So the local police had been completely stymied until Graden stepped in to lend a hand. In gratitude, the owner of the resort had offered him its best suite anytime he liked for as long as he liked, free of charge. Graden, having created a megapopular video game, was a multimillionaire and didn’t need the freebie. But Toni, Bailey, and I, who lived on civil-service wages, could never have afforded the freight at that posh resort. Luckily for us, the manager had graciously declared that any friend of Graden’s was a friend of his. All we’d need to pay for was the flight.
In fairness, I didn’t initially reveal the freebie kicker when I presented the idea to Toni and Bailey over drinks at our “Cheers”-the bar in the Biltmore Hotel, where I was a permanent resident.
“Aruba?” Toni frowned. “Why does it have to be the Morbid Murder-Mystery Tour? What’s wrong with Tortola? Or St. Barts?”
“Or good old Maui?” Bailey added. “Land of Lava Flows and Pupu Platters?”
“Nothing,” I said. “That is, if you can afford to turn down a free three-bedroom suite in a twelve-star resort that’s right on the beach.”
“Damn.” Bailey drained the last of her martini. “How can we pass up a deal like that?”
Toni finished her drink as well. “We can’t.” She set down her glass and redid her lip gloss, though it didn’t need refreshing. Toni is one of those women who always look perfect. We love her anyway.
I signaled to Drew, the bartender, that we were ready for another round. Drew, one of the most smoothly gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, had become one of my best friends and-cliché though it is-my confidant after I’d moved into the Biltmore. The hotel is a five-star beauty in downtown Los Angeles, and living there is a little slice of heaven. No dishes, no laundry, no vacuuming, and I never have to worry about drinking and driving. Neither do Toni and Bailey, who routinely crash in my suite. Given the frequency of our visits to the bar, it wasn’t such a surprise that Drew and Bailey eventually hooked up. They’ve been dating for the past couple of years now, and they’re still going strong.
