Chapter 7

A few minutes after the Sin City gates opened, a yellow-and-black Bombay taxicab drew up outside the complex. Arif got out and held the door open for Merlyn. She didn't thank him. She still wasn't sure how to deal with this guy.

The cab driver, a white-haired UP bhaiya smoking a beedi, leaned out of his window, spat on the road, and gestured at the massive wrought-iron gates.

"Yeh koi naya phillum talkies hai, saab?" the cab driver asked in typical UP-accented Hindi. Is this some new movie theatre, sir?

Arif glanced at the gates. How do you explain the concept of a "singles-only" party club to a Bombay cabdriver?

He shrugged and replied in Hindi: "Hotel jaisa hai, yaha party-vagaira hote hai." It's like a restaurant, they have parties here.

He started to pay the cabdriver off, but Merlyn complained indignantly: "Hey, we agreed to split it, remember?" She pulled out her wallet ... and found that she was flat out of cash.

"Shit," she said. "I was supposed to stop by at the ATM and get some cash before I came to this shindig." She took out her assortment of Gold Cards.

"I don't think he accepts Mastercard or Visa," Arif said sourly. He didn't like the woman's attitude. I mean, he could have sued her for reckless driving, but the whole scene had been so crazy back there on Marine Drive, he had just lost his head and started laughing. Because he had been struck by the realization that here he was, on his way to try and commit suicide, and he was cribbing about an accident in which he hadn't even got a scratch! It seemed hilarious at the time. That was why, after they'd organized a tow truck to haul both vehicles away, and he'd learned that the Maruti Zen owner was also on her way to the same launch party, he'd offered to split a cab with her. Now, he wished he hadn't.

"Okay, you pay," she said, not liking it. She looked at the people still streaming in through the gates. A thought struck her then and she grinned.

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing," she said. Then couldn't help telling him: "I just thought, well, it's supposed to be some kind of singles place, right? And here we happened to come together, like a couple, sort of."

He nodded, not smiling. "Yeah. Well, nice meeting you. I guess someone from my office will be in touch about third party insurance. Bye."

And he started to walk away.

"Hey," she said. She had to run a bit to catch up with him, he was walking that fast.

"I owe you money," she said.

He shrugged. "My office will deal with you on that."

"No, not the car thing. I mean the cab fare."

He shook his head irritably. "Peanuts. Forget it." They turned the corner of the artificially erected corridor and stopped briefly to admire the neon sign and the art deco entrance. Impressive, they both thought silently. At least the place has style, they added.

They started up the stairs together, and Merlyn pulled out the invitation from her wallet. The usher, a girl with great legs and a skirt that showed them off sexily, smiled and sang out, "Have a sinfully good time," in a way that was obviously rehearsed.

Arif fumbled around in his jacket pockets. "Damn," he said. He looked at the usher. "I've lost my invite."

The usher flashed him an especially warm smile. "That's cool, sir. You can both go in on one invite." And she threw him a wink. Merlyn thought: She'd like to usher him into her own private party, I bet. She added: Slut.

Merlyn and Arif went in, Arif still looking irritated about the lost invite. They found themselves in a foyer with several doors arrayed in a semi-circle before them. The doors were labeled: