“Ignore it,” Bobby said.
But Fox’s voice carried up the stairs.“No, you cannotsee him.”A pause.“Because he’s not receiving.”
I groaned.
Another pause.“Because he’s taken to his bed.”
“‘Taken to his bed’?”I said.“Good God, they make me sound like I’m an eccentric recluse.”
“Hmm,” Bobby said.
Which meant I had to poke him.
Downstairs, Fox was saying, “—no, you may not, because this isnotthe Hotel Transylvania—”
“What is happening?”I moaned.
“I’ll handle it,” Bobby said.
But I got to my feet, and we made our way downstairs together.
Fox stood in the vestibule, hands on their hips as they confronted Julian.The TV executive, phone in hand, was studying Hemlock House, clearly trying to take in as much as he could.He’d changed clothes since the last time I’d seen him—the same too-short trench coat, now with a hoodie and sneakers—and he looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (to put it mildly).I had the vague thought that TV executives were supposed to do a lot of coke, but maybe that had only been in the ’80s.
“Dash, my man!There you are!”
“My man?”Fox said in an undertone that was not quiteunder.And then they squawked as Julian pushed past them.
“Thank God you’re okay,” Julian said.“When I heard what happened—”
“How did you hear what happened?”I asked.
Julian paused, frowned, and blinked.“The conference.Everybody’s talking about it.Are you okay?”
“Fantastic,” I said.“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to check on my star!”
One giant breath got sucked out of the room.
Making a face, Julian said, “Wow, that sounded awful.I’m so sorry—I was trying to make a joke.I wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all.”
“Well, to repeat: I’m fantastic.”
“Dash,” Fox said in their you’re-still-talking-to-the-Mormons voice.“Who isthis?”
“You know what—” I tried.
“Julian Haskell.”He tried to shake Fox’s hand, but Fox directed what they probably thought of asa withering stareat Julian until he gave up.(It mostly looked like Fox was squinting hard, but maybe like they needed to sneeze a little too.) “It’s so good to meet Dash’s friends.I’d love to have you all be involved in the show as well.”
“What show?”Millie asked.She and Keme had appeared in the doorway to the living room—both of them disturbingly pink-cheeked, Keme with his arms around Millie.“Dash, are they making another play about your LIFE?”
“No—” I began.
“What show indeed?”Fox asked.This was their hysterical-starlet, are-you-trying-to-leave-me-out-of-this voice.(Used more often than you’d expect.)
“What’s going on?”Indira asked from the doorway to the servants’ dining room.“Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine,” I managed to get in.
