There was something else Godsend had been right about. Colinaude was only willing to admit this one because he hadn’t needed Godsend to remark about it to realize choosing to do that would be of immeasurable benefit to him. The opportunity presented itself at the Tin Can, which wound up being the third pleased he encountered her today. It seemed like a good enough omen.
He had only needed to switch back again from the Eidolon to civilian sheets and relieve a grateful Greenwood to reach this opportunity. Barely had he served one customer his hard rocks when she sidled in, a bored expression on her face that read, nothing else is kicking it today so let’s try the few hours game. She wasn’t exactly a regular patron of Tin Can’s, but she was frequently enough to be considered a regular infrequent, or frequent regular.
"Cassandra Holweger," he greeted.
"Cassandra Dawes, actually," she said, flashing a sparkling diamond ring, which might have meant something entirely different three years ago. "Just married."
"Just Hitched Cassandra Dawes, then," Colinaude said. "What’ll it be, Mrs. Dawes?"
"Try Cassie," Cassie said. "That’s what they call me at the agency. Wonder Ads. I’m probably responsible for some considerable annoyance in your life."
"Oh, isn’t everyone," Colinaude said. "But as it is, I’m a patron of the arts, in most of its forms. I have shares in the Blackman Tailors Company. Maybe that’s not quite the same. So, what’s your poison, Cassie?"
"I don’t really have a regular," Cassie said. "Give me one at random. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. I say that every time I come here."
"It’s been dawning on me," Colinaude said.
"Hence your calling out of my name," Cassie said. "Well, what it was up until recently."
"The Mr. Dawes doesn’t hit the bars?" Colinaude asked, deciding on what he might choose for one of the few customers at this early hour. "It might be too soon?"
"No, he’s pretty good at not knowing when that is," Cassie said. "But he likes to do it in the privacy of his own home, our own home. But don’t worry."
"It hadn’t crossed my mind," Colinaude said. "Is this all you do for kicks?"
"It has been for three years now," Cassie said. "The old poison found an unwitting antidote."
"I know how that goes," Colinaude said. "Was the Mr. Dawes that antidote?"
"No," Cassie said, taking her drink from the bartender, and the opportunity to slacken the conversation a little. It wasn’t as if they were good friends. Until now the two had not necessarily spoken before, but there was something about him she found familiar, and it wasn’t just the visits to Tin Can. She couldn’t quite put her finger to it. The face wasn’t it. That she was sure she’d have remembered.
"I never really saw you as the marrying kind," Colinaude said.
"Strange that you’d see me any particular way," Cassie said, "if you don’t mind my saying."
"Oh, it’s a habit of my kind," Colinaude said. "You’ll understand."
"I guess I do," Cassie said. "Sure." She nursed her poison a little more. What it was she wasn’t sure, not having ever been good at that. All she was in it for was the good vibration, which began at the back of the throat. "Andy isn’t working this evening?"
"He almost was," Colinaude said. "Yeah, whatever pleasure you might be deriving from this little chat might have been averted, or avoided. I had been thinking of calling out."
"Oh, what a shame that would have been," Cassie said, smiling into her drink, giving it one of those piercing examinations that meant something else was under the microscope. "I’m not putting you down, but Andy knows how to run a bar."
"I’m still learning the ropes," Colinaude said. "You’d be surprised at how long that takes. There’s a feel you have to get to know, an instinct you have to develop. I’ve got the skills, but I don’t have the soul yet."
"I would have thought the soul came first," Cassie said. "Are you here because you want to tend bar, or because you think it’s a good way to pass the time?"
"A little of both," Colinaude said. "I guess I’m a bit of a mixer. That’s not such a bad thing, is it?"
"Many people would say they’d prefer the pure intentions," Cassie said.
"But then again, few people actually live on those," Colinaude said.
"The philosopher says," Cassie winked. "I could think of a few better environments for your kind."
"I’m not cut out for this," Colinaude said. "That’s what you’re saying?"
"I’m saying there are naturals," Cassie said, "and then there’s your kind. Doesn’t make you any less qualified, but it does make you stand out."
"Which is not necessarily a bad thing," Colinaude said.
"Not necessarily," Cassie said. "But you never know. It’s sort of a preference thing. Give me another shot of whatever you gave me the first time, please."
"Sure thing," Colinaude said. "So you’re saying I’m not exactly that, not exactly a sure thing?"
"Like you said," Cassie said, "most people aren’t. Don’t get yourself all worked up over it. That tends to spoil things."
"Some things," Colinaude said, delivering the second shot, "are better off spoiled."
"Not that that can easily be understood," Cassie said. "Or explained. Please don’t try. I don’t hold my liquor well."
"Who said I was giving you liquor?" Colinaude winked.
"Well, don’t spoil it," Cassie said. She relaxed her concentration onto her drink. There was honky-tonk music playing in the background. There always was, and yet there was no mechanical bull to complete the atmosphere. She had once made a pretty good name for herself riding those, and the real kind as well. Success there seemed to give her power over the onlookers, especially the men. Somehow bull-riding triumphs gave her an aura, and that aura in turn melted those around her into dolling slaves, willing to do whatever she might bid. Such power was easy to corrupt. Such power was made to be corrupted. She allowed it to, for a time.
"Listen," Colinaude rather pregantly began. "There’s something I want you to consider."
"Uh oh," Cassie said. She made sure her ring was visible.
"No, not that," Colinaude said. "I’ve got another job."
"Not enough people tipping," Cassie said. "For shame. Tell you what, I’m contribute more than my fair share. How’s that?"
"It’s not like that," Colinaude said. "You must have been racking your brain, trying to think of how you’ve seen me before."
"Okay," Cassie said. "I’m listening."
"Your work at the museum has been inspiring," Colinaude said. "I especially enjoyed the Incan effort."
"Oh," Cassie said. Now she was paying attention.
"It’s a shame you no longer do that," Colinaude said.
"Is that now," Cassie said. "I would think you of all people would be glad."
"Oh, I am," Colinaude said. "But there are other ways to scratch that itch."
"None I ever considered," Cassie said. "Are you trying to give me the benefit of the doubt here?"
"You’ve earned that," Colinaude said. "Ten times over. I’m trying to give you an opportunity."
"The last time I took one of those, I got myself into trouble," Cassie said. "You know that much."
"This is a different kind," Colinaude said.
"I am familiar with your work, you know," Cassie said.
"I’ve just got me a terrific reputation," Colinaude said, "don’t I?"
"You do," Cassie said. "Give me another shot."
"Here’s coming," Colinaude said. "Is it really that bad?"
"Not among most folks," Cassie said. "But I haven’t lost everything from those days."
"That much is a good thing," Colinaude said.
"I think about that sometimes," Cassie said. She accepted the third shot. There was beginning to form a new reason for these. She wasn’t sure yet how she felt about that. She’d been down this road before. There was an entire culture she thought she’d left behind, she hoped she’d left behind. She had a new life, a new lease she was reluctant to give up. There were many reasons why she shouldn’t even consider it. And some she couldn’t ignore that said she should. She knew she was flirting with trouble, regardless of which side, even thinking about it. She found that she enjoyed the thought, and the shot, especially this third one.
"I’m not trying to pressure you or anything," Colinaude said.
"You’re not," Cassie said. "I’ve got a pretty independent mind, even if the rest of me isn’t so much these days."
"That’s a good thing," Colinaude said. "That’s an asset."
"You don’t have to tell me," Cassie said. "But there are a few others I could stand to have you remind."
"Bring them here," Colinaude said, "and I’d be happy to."
"Oh, they’re not that type," Cassie said.
"Not everyone is," Colinaude said. "Which is something Tin Can fully endorses. Well, maybe Andy doesn’t. But he can be a bit of a bastard at times."
"I know," Cassie said."
"Says the bad girl," Colinaude said.
"I’m not allowed to be anymore," Cassie said, finding herself flashing the ring a third time.
"But we can still arrange for one last engagement," Colinaude said wistfully.
"We can," Cassie said. "Why don’t you write the details on this coaster here?"
"Can do," Colinaude said.
"Seems to me that the bar ought to be picking up energy by now," Cassie said.
"Oh, it’s about that time," Colinaude murmured, writing furiously. "You still have that number?"
"I kept one," Cassie said. "Sure."
"Great," Colinaude said, smiling again.
"You’re wicked," Cassie said.
"No, that number is," Colinaude said, finishing up. "And here you go."
"I guess I’ll see you around," Cassie said.
"I guess you will," Colinaude said. "Does Andy know you’re Mrs. Dawes now?"
"I guess I’ll have to show him the ring," Cassie said, waving her hand strategically behind her. And out walked the kind of help the Eidolon was going to have to hopefully cap a few things. Calypso was back in business.
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