Carole Douglas - Cat in a Red Hot Rage

“On my left is Mr. Midnight Louie, formerly of the Crystal Phoenix but relocated to the Circle Ritz.”

Louie lifted his head and gazed on the assembly.

Another black form lofted onto the table at Nicky's left, to laughter and applause.

“And, oh yes, Miss Midnight Louise, currently engaged here in Mr. Louie's stead and doing a heck of job, Blackie.”

The laughter resonated up to the mirrored ceiling.

Louie patted Nicky's sleeve, then looked out over the room.

Nicky make a slight face, but plowed ahead. "And I must thank our guest security force, the beautiful and deadly feline fatales, Miss Yvette and Solange Ashleigh, proteges of our esteemed Red Hat Sisterhood celebrity guest, Miss Savannah Ashleigh.”

Savannah leaped to her feet to reveal that she was clad in a formfitting strapless tube of ivory sequins. The gown must have cost a fortune, but unfortunately it only made her look like a very long, pallid, glittery noodle surmounted by a pair of pearl onions.

Fortunately, Solange and Yvette were trained to recognize a curtain call. The long-haired Persians leaped atop the table and began licking daintily at their mistress's vanilla-caramel ice cream parfait.

Everyone laughed and began sitting again.

Matt's hand tightened on Temple's. Their momentous announcement would be the last item on the program.

A heavy silver spoon tapped on a glass, drawing attention.

Someone was quieting down the guests for a final announcement.

Temple craned her neck along the head table to see who. Not Nicky, but Aldo.

How did he know?

“ Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for a surprise announcement among friends. One regarding not murder, but endeavors of the marital sort.”

The crowd oohed and began looking around.

“I am here to announce an engagement.”

Temple tightened her hand on Matt's. This wasn't in their personal script, but

“I am pleased and happy to announce that a beautiful and clever redhead—”

Well, it wasn't back to red yet, and "beautiful" was a little excessive . . .

“—is engaged to be my wife. Miss Kit Carlson.”

He held out his hand and Kit stood, shakily, next to him. She outshone Savannah with her midnight-blue column of sequins with the batwing sleeves and off-the-shoulder white rhinestone neckline.

A pear-shaped diamond solitaire winked on the left hand she held up before her face so everyone could see.

Everyone at the head table and in the room stood to applaud. Temple's bare hands clapped together as she and Matt were surrounded by standing people, their own formal stance lost in the celebration.

They sat with the rest, finally.

Kit spoke, the slight vocal rasp she shared with Temple much rougher still, but understandable.

“I came to Las Vegas simply to visit my beloved niece." She flashed a tearful smile Temple's way. "But I found a beloved. And almost lost him." Her voice and head had lowered, then lifted as the actress rose to her own most special occasion. "I imagine I'll be seeing a lot more of Las Vegas from now on, and all of you dear, delightful people.”

Few would have believed this group capable of more applause, whistles, and hoots, but led by the Fontana brothers, the chaos clamored on for another three minutes. Everybody loves a wedding, or the promise of one.

Matt whispered to Temple during the mania, "We could still add our news to the evening.”

She shook her head. "It's Kit's moment. After what she's been through, she doesn't need me making an anticlimax."

“But everyone we know is here, we're all dressed up to celebrate, and I know you—"

“I can wait," she told him. "We have decades and decades to go. Kit doesn't. Can you figure it? Another married Fontana brother at long last. And my very own aunt brought the eldest of the clan to his knees. Go, Kit!! Here's to the Carlsons," she said gamely, lifting her glass. "I guess I shouldn't say `Skoal,' under the circumstances.”

Matt sighed, despite his grin of surrender, and lifted her bare hand to his lips for a kiss. Right where his engagement ring would have gone public.

Chapter 63

Future Perfect

Temple and Matt stood on his balcony in the dark, gazing down on the shadowy forms of feral cats eating from the dishes they'd all set out for them under Electra's direction.

Electra was in a mood to embrace everything. Freedom, her small kingdom of residents, even the clan of feral cats who had followed Midnight Louie to the Promised Land.

If Electra Lark had anything to do with it, the Circle Ritz would deliver.

The round Circle Ritz building now had an outer, separate ring like Saturn's, but this was composed of fur and claw: wild guardian cats.

If Matt and Temple had looked up, they could have seen Electra's penthouse balcony three floors above. She was hack in her aerie with her mystical Birman, Karma. All was right with the Circle Ritz world.

Except for the one topic that they didn't bring up right now. Where was Max, and in what condition? That was something for Molina to figure out, and she was obsessed enough with Max to do it.

Temple sighed and inhaled the scent of jasmine on the dry desert air. The long, hot summer was here.

Her hands rested on the balcony railing. In the combined glow of the moonlight and grapefruit-pink sodium iodide parking-lot lights, her engagement ring gleamed galaxy-bright, just for the two of them.

“I suppose," she said, "it's just as well that announcing this didn't work out tonight. We probably have more groundwork to do before our distant friends and family are ready to accept a new reality."

“You're saying—?"

“That we should let Kit and Aldo have the stage for now. She wants me to be her 'maid of honor,' which I can't do married.”

“You could be her matron of honor."

“Matt, I wanted to celebrate Electra's exoneration by having her marry us in the Lovers' Knot."

“A civil ceremony? You're sure?”

She could hear his voice weighing what her decision really meant. Was it a stopgap, an easy out, as he had proposed? With divorce always an option. Or was it a first step?

“But now I've changed my mind. Let's not distract anyone from Kit and Aldo. They've never been married."

“Neither have we," he pointed out.

“Yes, but we're young. Anyway, the reaction to Kit and Aldo tonight had me rethinking things. We should visit Chicago and Minneapolis and meet the folks, so they don't feel hurt by a sudden announcement from far away."

“Whew," Matt said. "My mom would freak at the idea of a civil ceremony."

“My mom wouldn't. I could get married in a Quonset hut beside a swamp by a swami. Unitarians are highly inclusive. She won't even mind my marrying a Catholic. She will freak atthe idea of my marrying someone she doesn't know. Or hasn't met."

“And my cousin Krys—"

“Yes? Boy or girl?"

“Girl. First year of college."

“Ah. First crush too, huh?"

“You sure you want to involve families? They'll try to tell us what to do. And anything we do won't appeal to someone on one side or the other."

“Weddings are always like that, from what I've seen. That's why we scout the territory first. To figure out if they'll make a later ecumenical church wedding too divisive to handle."

“If we're making a pilgrimage to the old folks at home, why even come back and get a civil marriage here?"

“To show them we're serious. Otherwise, they might raise holy hell. Ask us to wait forever. Decide to hamstring us by insisting on a religious ceremony they know the 'other side' can't stomach.”

Matt eyed her with mock suspicion. "You know a lot about tribal behavior in the matter of weddings. I've officiated at many, and your low opinion of relations between families at such times is terrifyingly accurate. Like the unlamented but still-not-late Elmore Lark, do you have a few weddings of your own under your belt?"