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Date Posted: 16:12:30 04/14/03 Mon
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Ghosts - ch.30
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Ghosts - ch.29" on 05:12:20 04/13/03 Sun

CHAPTER THIRTY


The lobby was relatively quiet at 6:45 a.m., as Reggie paced before the concierge desk, debating the risk/benefit ratio of going up to check on Peter.

In Reggie's personal opinion, the guy needed to focus a little more time on saving Mrs. M. and a little less time on loving Mrs. S. Investing in a heavier bathrobe might also be wise, Reggie grimaced, shivering with inadequacy.

Luckily, Reggie's dilemma was solved, when the elevator doors opened to reveal Peter racing toward him.

"I'm late…I know...I don't want to hear a word!" Peter dared, while tucking his t-shirt into his running shorts.

Tempting as it was, Reggie snapped his mouth shut immediately.

"So, what's up with Gus?" Peter asked impatiently.

His feelings hurt, Reggie placed his hands on his hips. "Oh, now, I should talk?"

Peter's hands flew up in exasperation. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because you defy the laws of nature," Reggie shot back obstinately.

"Do you think we could postpone this argument until later?" Peter pleaded, looking at his watch.

Relenting, mostly for Charity's sake, Reggie divulged, "Gus left the Sandbox around five this morning. Went down to the casino and hauled Bruno Gabrielli upstairs to stand guard in front of his hotel room."

"Bruno's big," Reggie explained for Peter's benefit. "Bigger than Leroy. Used to be an FBI agent. You don't mess with Bruno…"

Peter was fascinated. "Gus is scared…"

"Looks that way," Reggie nodded sagely.

"Thanks, Reg…" Peter gave him a sincere pat on the back in gratitude as he departed. "You've been a big help. Keep an eye on things while I'm out, would ya?"

Reggie's heart softened as he waved goodbye. Astounded by Peter's magnanimity, he could only sigh.

"He called me, Reg…"

^^^^^^^^^^^^

"All right, Ladies… Form three lines, please…" Janet's morning workout class was about to begin.

Sophie had dressed in her usual exercise attire: sports bra, biker shorts, and running shoes. Her hair was piled loose atop her head in a scrunchy.

There was no sight of Ivy anywhere, but, over by the drinking fountain, Sophie saw someone she thought might be equally informative.

"Dolores, isn't it?" Sophie held out her hand. "You probably don't remember me. I'm…"

Dolores cut her off with a smile. "Sophie, right?"

"Sure, I remember you, Hon," she said warmly. "Any friend of Gus' is a friend of mine."

Dolores was wearing a red nylon track suit with what appeared to be several layers underneath. Although the room was air-conditioned, Sophie didn't see the need for quite so many clothes. Still, come to think of it, as she looked around at the dozen or so women present, young and old, in various shapes and sizes, most all of them seemed to be wearing more than she was.

"Do you come to this class regularly?" Sophie asked politely as she and Dolores settled into place.

"Usually I take Janet's later one," Dolores explained. "But I'm opening the Sandbox early this morning. There's a toy convention starting today and most of the exhibitors have brought their kids."

"Honey," Dolores chuckled, giving Sophie the once over. "Those clothes aren't gonna last you long."

"Not that you don't have the figure for it," she laughed, apparently enjoying a private joke.

"I don't understand," Sophie looked down at her outfit, confused. "This is what I always wear to exercise."

"Exercise?" Dolores was grinning from ear to ear now. "Honey, this is a Strippercise class!"

"A what?" Sophie felt her jaw drop.

"Strippercise," Dolores repeated with a laugh. "We strip for exercise. Janet used to be with the Folies Bergere. You couldn't find a better teacher."

"Is that legal?" Sophie whispered, astonished.

"Honey, this is Vegas! Everything's legal!" Dolores exclaimed.

"It's all the rage in L.A., too," Dolores added, as if Sophie should know.

Sophie took a deep breath. Obviously, she needed to get out more. "Well, I guess I'll be going." Jumping out of planes was one thing, but this…

"Aw, c'mon, Hon," Dolores chided her. "Stay. It's fun. You don't have to take everything off."

"Here," she handed Sophie some clothes from her bag. "All you need is a few more layers."

Sophie looked down at the t-shirts and pants Dolores had shoved into her hand. This couldn't be a good idea…

Dolores egged her on further. "You might learn a couple of things. Gus likes his women feisty."

"Gus…" Suddenly, Sophie remembered why she was there. To see Ivy…to get as much information on Gus as possible…to help Charity however she could.

With a heavy sigh, Sophie began piling on as many clothes as Dolores had to offer.

"So, you've known Gus a long time, huh, Dolores?" Sophie mumbled, poking her head through t-shirt number three.

"I've been with Gus since the beginning," Dolores nodded proudly. "And you're one of the nicest ones he's brought by…"

Sophie smiled at the compliment. "Been with a lot of feisty ones, has he?" she fished innocently, while donning a lightweight warm-up jacket.

Dolores shrugged and rolled her eyes. "What does he know," she frowned. "You'd think after the first one, he'd have learned his lesson."

Sophie was on the verge of asking more when Janet took to the front of the room to begin the class. "Why don't we start with the upper body today? Remember to slowly unzip… That's it…Chests out…Work those shoulders…Don't forget the eye contact…Slowly…Slowly…"

Sophie discarded her first layer of clothing along with a heaping dose of self-respect, she feared. This had to be the most blatant exercise hoax since the Thighmaster. And she hadn't even worked up a sweat!

Still, all around her, everyone seemed to be having such a good time, smiling, laughing…encouraging each other with total support.

Undoubtedly, the younger women had aspirations of joining the Folies Bergere like Janet - a career choice Sophie simply could not advocate. Those closer to her own age sported diamonds the size of a small planet. Would "strippercising" keep the men who gifted them securely in orbit?

But, then there were all the other women, like Dolores, well into their sixties, with bodies unlikely to ever stop traffic. More than any other age group there, they seemed to be having the time of their lives.

"Dolores," Respectfully, Sophie struggled to phrase her question. "Gus told me you used to be a teacher. Why would you want to…?"

Annoyed, Dolores poked Sophie in the ribs, reminding her to lift t-shirt number 2 in time to Donna Summers' "Love to Love Ya Baby."

"You're never too old to learn something new and have fun doing it," she chided her. "When and if you use it's, up to you…"

"Besides, every once in a while we get a couple of guys in here. Now, that's really educational!" she laughed heartily.

Never one to consider herself a prude, Sophie decided to put aside her feminist objections and enjoy the class for what is was - pure fun. Dolores was actually a lot like Charity, Sophie realized. Although, the thought of Charity strippercising made her just a tad woozy - not to mention what it would do to Peter.

"Peter…" Sophie smiled. Even after last night's adventures in the chaise, she wasn't sure he was ready for this!

"Come on, Ladies," Janet ordered sternly. "Let's see some skin now. Turn and peel."

"Whoops…" Dolores turned a little too quickly and swooned. "Maybe I should slow that move down a little?" she laughed at herself.

"Are you all right?" Sophie asked with concern.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Dolores reassured her. "I'll just go splash some cold water on my face."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Sophie offered, both out of friendship and a keen desire to escape the next turn and peel.

Dolores gave Sophie an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "No, stay, Honey. You need the practice," she winked.

Sophie cringed, feeling strangely conspicuous in the front row of class. She was down to two layers on top and one on the bottom, unless she counted her underwear. Did underwear count, she wondered?

Wishing she'd thought to ask Dolores such an important question before she left, Sophie was relieved to spot Ivy entering from across the room.

"Ivy, hi!" Sophie greeted warmly, welcoming her into Dolores' empty spot. "It's good to see you again."

"Sophie…I didn't expect to see you here." Ivy was all business, as usual.

"Yeah, well, life is full of surprises," Sophie quipped, admiring the ease with which Ivy unclipped her hair and shook it loose just as the stereo began playing Shirley Bassey and "Hey, Big Spender."

Awkwardly, Sophie undid her scrunchy and tried to copy Ivy's move.

"Not bad," Ivy seemed amused. "You've got potential."

"Thanks," Sophie rubbed her neck, sure she'd be in traction if this class went on much longer.

"You make it look so easy," she complimented Ivy sincerely.

"Sophie," Ivy chided her with a raised eyebrow, failing to see the problem. "Turn, peel…peel, turn. However you serve it, Sweetie, they'll eat."

Sophie smiled wryly. Ivy certainly didn't mince words. And her confidence level wasn't too shabby either.

"I guess so," Sophie shrugged, attempting Janet's latest twister-like position.

"Exactly," Ivy lectured to her innocent lamb. "They've got their secrets and we've got ours, right?"

"Secrets?" Sophie found Ivy's choice of words intriguing.

"Oh, c'mon, Sophie…" Ivy persisted. "There isn't a trick they don't try."

With the music pounding and her anger slowly bubbling to the surface, Ivy began channeling a lifetime of hostility into her every word and movement.

"Champagne…" Ivy recited in a hiss, lowering one strap and then the other.

"A moonlit drive…" That was another classic.

With a gulp, Sophie discovered that what Ivy lacked in height, she more than made up for in other attributes - ones which, hopefully, Peter would never see.

"Slow dance under the stars…"

To say Ivy was enjoying herself was putting it mildly. Dismayed, Sophie thought it might be best to just leave.

"A five-minute kiss…"

Did Ivy even know what she was saying any more?

"Five-minute kiss?" Sophie had almost stopped paying attention entirely.

With a sudden stop, Ivy caught her breath and, thankfully, draped a long towel around her shoulders.

"Like I said, Sophie," she finished derisively, observing Sophie, still in the sports bra and shorts she started with. "They've got their ways, we've got ours. But, any way you do this, Gus is sure to smile."

"Oh, Gus and I are just friends," Sophie flustered uselessly.

"Didn't he suggest this class to you?" Ivy asked, suspicious.

"No, honestly, he didn't," Sophie assured her. "I heard about it from the concierge and then Dolores was telling me…"

"Dolores?" Ivy questioned with a glance.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sophie apologized for not explaining. "She's a friend of Gus'. She should be back any…"

Before Sophie could continue, Ivy interrupted once again. "You know, suddenly, I'm famished," she announced with a flourish. And, considering Ivy's workout, Sophie could definitely see why.

"I think I'll go change and surprise Peter after his run," Ivy decided, packing her things. "After all, I plan on us spending a lot more breakfasts together."

It took all the willpower Sophie possessed not to grab Ivy's towel and then wring it around her scrawny little neck. Only a swift invocation of her trusty Tibetan meditation chant - coupled with the grizzly vision of being labeled the Strippercise Strangler - prevented her.

"Have a nice time…" Sophie clenched her fists and held them tightly by her side.

Unaware of just how close she was to becoming Sophie's punching bag, Ivy smiled, her eyes sparkling with untold fantasies.

"Oh, we will…"

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Peter paced the Tequila Trail like a caged tiger. It was after seven now and still no sign of Gus. Angrily, he pitched a small rock into the wind.

"Damn you, Leighton," Peter fumed under his breath, fearful that today would bring nothing but trouble. "Where are you?"

"You'd do better with a slingshot," Sully approached from a nearby path, laconic as always.

"Can't you give me any better advice than that?" Barely acknowledging Sully's presence, Peter began to pace again.

"Sure I can," Sully nodded. "But you're not gonna like it."

"Try me," Peter stopped short, his interest piqued.

"Sometimes, you gotta put aside yer jealousies to make things work," Sully riddled.

"My jealousies? You mean, Gus…" Peter surmised. "You want me to work with Gus?" Just the suggestion appalled him.

"Peter, there were lotsa times Hank and me didn't see eye to eye." Patiently, Sully encouraged his grandson to sit on a boulder beside him.

"But I'd a bin a fool not t'accept his help when it could do some good," he recalled their uneasy friendship over the years. "Building the schoolhouse, organizin' search parties, protecting abused kids like MaryAnn Daggett…"

"Did I ever tell ya he hosted my bachelor party?" Sully chuckled at the memory of that day in the saloon.

"No, no, you didn't…" Peter smirked, imagining that must've been quite a sight.

"And when it mattered more than anything, more than I could ever ask or hope t'repay," Sully's voice softened. "It was Hank I owed the most to."

Thanks to Charity, Peter knew the story by heart, but he waited for Sully to finish nonetheless.

"He saved Michaela's life."

Somberly, both men considered Hank's actions that fateful day.

"He was a good friend to her," Sully admitted truthfully.

"Not sayin' I liked it," he scowled, pitching a stone in the same manner Peter had earlier. "But I could count on it."

"Are you saying I can count on Gus?" Peter found it impossible to believe.

"You gotta decide that fer yerself," Sully charged him, rising to leave.

"Just don't take too long…"

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