Hula Done It - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,80

my forefinger -- "what about Jennifer?"

He gulped down a mouthful of oxygen, looking as if he were trying to prevent his florets from wilting. "Is that her name? Jennifer? What a whiner. I think someone should do the rest of the world a favor and put her out of her misery. She nearly took the clerk's head off when he told her the zipper was broken and he'd have to give her a new bodysuit. But you know what I overheard when she was jabbering with some of the female clerks?"

"Hello, dear," said a short passerby in a belted tunic, leggings, and floppy mushroom cap of a hat. She wore a half-face mask, carried a miner's pick, and sported a slash of embroidery over her breast that read HAPPY. She gave me a thumbs-up as she nodded toward one of the food islands. "Snow White and me are all over Bailey. But she's not in costume, so it's not too challengin'. Woulda been more excitin' followin' that Gjurd fella around. He's dressed like a Vikin', and you wouldn't believe the fine-lookin' gams he's got under that wolfskin skirt a his." Nana acknowledged Jonathan with a wink and a nod. "You better stay away from the appetizer table, dear. You look tasty enough to dip. Oops. There's Snow. Duty calls. We're gonna stalk Bailey while she gets her food."

I waved to Tilly, who stood pencil straight and shapeless in a low-cut, puffy-sleeved gown with a huge bow roosting atop her head of synthetic black hair. She waggled her cane at me as she flicked wisps of hair away from her face, but her wig was charged with so much static electricity, the hair kept flying back, attacking her cheeks like bats. That had to be annoying.

As I watched her and Nana trundle off, I blinked at the nearest food island, whipping around suddenly to stare at Jonathan.

"Like I was saying," Jonathan continued, "while I --"

"How are you planning to go through the buffet line?" I cut him off, gesturing to the two empty sockets in his stem. "Have you seen yourself? You have no arms."

He looked down his nose at his stalk. "I thought maybe I could ask one of the waitstaff to help me. You suppose they do stuff like that?"

"Probably. But how is the food going to travel from the plate to your mouth?"

His florets bobbed in thought. "Don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."

"Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan." I glanced beyond him to where a female in a black bodysuit with a Catwoman hood was edging into line at the salad island. Eh! Jennifer. "Tell you what. Sit down at this table --" I yanked out a chair and navigated him into it. "I'll get you some food and bring it back to you. Maybe I can even help you get it to your mouth."

He regarded me with puppy-dog eyes. "You'd do that for me, Emily?"

"I'm a tour escort," I said hurriedly. "It's one of the many functions I perform."

"But I don't get it. Why are you being so nice to me? No one's ever been this nice to me."

"I'm from the Midwest. We're all like this."

I strutted across the floor, dropping into line three people back from Jennifer and wondering if her agenda for the evening included a quick cut-and-run after the dessert course. She didn't look to be in too much of a hurry as she piled Caesar salad onto her plate, which meant my plan was working perfectly. She didn't have a clue I was onto her.

"Trick or treat," said a digitalized voice behind me. I spun around and nearly scraped my nose on the broad chest of Darth Vader, evil galactic lord of an empire that existed long ago and far, far away -- like my love life. He towered miles above me, a striking figure in his floor-length cloak and hermetically sealed breathing mask. He curled a gloved hand around my bare shoulder and looked down at me through bulbous orbs of tinted glass that I suspected were the science fiction equivalent of Foster Grants. "Nice costume," he announced, sounding like the voice inside my answering machine.

"Duncan?"

He expelled a heavy breath through the vents of his mask and trailed a gloved finger down the nape of my neck. "Darth."

I smiled up at him, rapping a knuckle on his helmeted face mask. What was it with guys? Jonathan with no arms. Duncan with no face. Did their brains shut down completely when they crawled into