“Danny!” I hurry over and throw my arms around his skinny frame. “Oh my God! You’re alive!”

I haven’t seen Danny since he tried to cross the Greenland ice sheet for charity; he had to be airlifted out because he grazed his toe, or something, and go for a recuperative holiday in Miami.

“Only just,” says Danny. “It was touch and go.”

It was so not touch and go. I’ve spoken to his business manager: I know the truth. Only he said not to contradict Danny, because Danny thinks he nearly died.

“Poor you,” I say. “It must have been terrifying! All that snow and…er…wolves?”

“It was a nightmare!” says Danny fervently. “You know, Becky, I’ve left you a bunch of stuff in my will, and you were this close to getting it.”

“Really?” I can’t help feeling interested. “You’ve left me stuff? Like what?”

“Some clothes,” says Danny vaguely. “My Eames chair. A forest.”

“A forest?” I gape at him.

“I bought this forest in Montana. You know, for taxes? And I figured Minnie could go play in it or whatever—” He breaks off. “This is Ulla, by the way.”

“Hi, Ulla!” I wave a cheery hand, but Ulla just blinks nervously, mutters, “Hi,” and returns to work. She’s sketching something in a large artist’s pad, and as I glance over, I see it’s a close-up of the flower arrangement on the table.

“I just hired Ulla as my ‘inspiration finder,’ ” says Danny grandly. “She’s already filled that pad.” He gestures at it. “My whole new collection will be Las Vegas–inspired.”

“I thought it was going to be Inuit-inspired?” I object.

Last time I was in contact with Danny, he was talking about raw bone and Inuit crafts and the infinite expanse of whiteness, which he planned to represent in a pair of oversize men’s culottes.

“Inuit meets Las Vegas,” says Danny, without missing a beat. “So, did you gamble yet?”

“I don’t dare.” I shudder. “This woman has just told me gambling is like crystal meth and if I dip my toe in, I’ll get sucked in forever.”

I’m hoping he’ll say, That’s bullshit, but Danny nods gravely.

“It could happen. My school friend Tania never recovered from one night of online poker. It took hold of her and she was never the same person again. It was a pretty tragic story.”

“Where is she now?” I say fearfully. “Is she…dead?”

“Pretty much.” He nods. “Alaska.”

“Alaska’s not dead!” I say indignantly.

“She went to work on an oil rig.” Danny takes a swig of wine. “She’s very successful, actually. I think she runs the whole thing. But before that, she was a gambling addict.”

“So it’s not a tragic story at all,” I say crossly. “She ended up being boss of an oil rig.”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like, being boss of an oil rig?” counters Danny. “Have you seen those places?”

I always forget how exasperating Danny is.

“Anyway,” I say, a little sternly. “None of this is the point. The point is—”

“I know what the point is!” Danny cuts me off, sounding triumphant. “I’m, like, ten steps ahead of you. I have fliers, I have leaflets, I have pens, I have T-shirts….”

“T-shirts?” I peer at him.

Danny takes off his biker jacket to reveal a T-shirt printed with an image of Tarquin. It’s a black-and-white picture taken from a fashion shoot which Tarkie did a while ago, and it shows him naked from the waist up, with rope twined round his torso, his eyes staring soulfully into the camera. It’s an amazing shot, but I recoil in dismay. Suze hates that picture. She thinks it makes Tarquin look like some gay supermodel. (Which, to be fair, it does.) She will not be happy to see it reproduced on a T-shirt.

At the bottom is printed FIND ME and Suze’s mobile number.

“I have a whole bunch,” says Danny proudly. “Kasey and Josh are handing out the fliers, all round Caesars Palace.”

“Kasey and Josh?”

“My assistants. See, what we do is, we get his face out there. First rule of finding a missing person. My PR people are trying the news channels; I have someone talking to the milk-carton guys—”

“Wait a sec.” The truth suddenly dawns on me. “They’re handing out pictures of Tarquin right now?”

“They’re going to cover the whole city,” boasts Danny. “We printed ten thousand.”

“But we’ve found him!”

“What?” Danny actually jolts in shock.

“Well, kind of,” I amend. “I mean, we’ve spoken to him. We’re having breakfast at the Bellagio in the morning.”

“The Bellagio?” Danny looks utterly affronted. “Are you serious? I thought he’d been kidnapped. I thought he was being brainwashed.”

“Well, Suze still does. At least, she can’t relax until she actually sees him….Anyway, show me the fliers,” I add hastily. “You’re amazing, Danny. Absolutely brilliant. Suze will be so grateful.”

“I produced three varieties,” says Danny, mollified. “Ulla, the fliers?”

Ulla hastily reaches into her big leather bag and pulls out three leaflets, which she passes over the table. Each has a different, stunning black-and-white picture of Tarkie looking like a moody gay-porn star—all from the same fashion shoot. One reads FIND ME, like the T-shirt, one reads WHERE AM I?, and the third reads I AM LOST, and they all have Suze’s mobile number.

“Cool, huh?”

“Er…” I clear my throat. “Yes! Wonderful!”

I cannot let Suze see these.

“I don’t think Kasey and Josh need to hand out all the fliers,” I say carefully. “Maybe not all ten thousand.”

“But what will I do with the rest?” Danny looks perturbed for a moment—then his brow clears. “I know. An installation! Maybe my next collection will be based on this experience!” His face brightens. “Yes! Entrapment. Kidnap. Bondage. Very dark, you know? Very noir. Models in shackles. Ulla!” he exclaims. “Write down: Bonds, chains, sacking, leather. Hot pants,” he adds after a moment’s thought.

“I thought your next collection was going to be Inuit meets Las Vegas?”

“OK, then, the one after that,” he says easily. “So where’s Suze?”

“Oh.” My mood instantly falls. “She’s with Alicia. Remember Alicia Bitch Long-legs? Well, she married this guy called Wilton Merrelle, and—”

“Becky, I know who Alicia Merrelle is,” Danny cuts me off. “She’s a pretty big deal. Her house is, like, all over Architectural Digest.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” I say dolefully. “Oh, Danny, it’s awful. She’s taken Suze away from me. The two of them spend the whole time together. Suze has totally lost her sense of humor, and it’s all because of Alicia—” I break off and rub my nose. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well.” Danny thinks a moment, then shrugs philosophically. “People move on. Friendships end. If you love Suze, maybe you need to let her go.”

“Let her go?” I gaze at him, stricken. He wasn’t supposed to say that.

“People change, life changes….It’s the way of the world. Maybe it’s meant to be.”

I stare down at the tablecloth, my head a miserable whirl. It can’t be meant to be that I lose Suze to Alicia Bitch Long-legs. It can’t be.

“So how is she these days, Alicia?” says Danny. “Still the sweet thing she always was? Still trying to wreck people’s marriages?”

I feel a wash of relief. At least Danny knows what Alicia’s really like.

“She pretends to be a reformed character,” I say darkly. “But I don’t trust her. She’s up to something.”

“No way.” Danny perks up. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But she has to be. She always is. Keep your eye on her.”

“Got it.” He nods.

“Not that you’ll see her tonight.” I hunch my shoulders gloomily. “Here we are in Las Vegas. I’ve spoken to Tarquin and Dad and we know they’re safe. We should be celebrating. But Alicia and Suze are refusing to have any fun. They’re going to have an early night. Can you believe it?”

“Well, I’ll have fun.” Danny reaches over and clasps my hand with his warm, dry fingers. “Don’t look blue, Becky. What shall we do? Hit the casino?”

“I’m meeting Luke there in a little while,” I tell him. “Although I’m a bit…you know. Freaked out.”

“Why?”

Honestly, wasn’t he listening?

“Because!” I make agitated gestures with my hands. “Crystal meth!”

“You’re not taking that seriously?” Danny laughs. “Becky, gambling is fun.”

“You don’t understand! I’m the type of personality to get hooked! My whole life might spiral away in a toxic mix of addiction and dependence! You’ll try to help me, but you won’t be able to!”

I’ve seen true-life movies about drug addiction. I know how it goes. One minute you’re saying, I’ll just have one puff, and the next minute you’re in court with unwashed hair, fighting for custody of your children.

“Relax.” Danny gestures for the bill. “Let’s go and hit the tables. If you start to look anything like an addict, I’ll drag you away. Promise.”

“Even if I swear and spit at you and say I don’t care about my friends and family anymore?” I say fearfully.

“Especially then. C’mon, let’s go see if we can lose all Luke’s money. Joke!” he adds at my expression. “Joke.”

—

It only takes a few minutes to reach the casino, and as we enter, I take a deep breath. So this is it. Las Vegas proper. The beating heart of the city. I look around, almost dazzled by the neon and patterned carpet and shiny outfits. Everyone seems to be gleaming in some way or other, even if it’s just their diamond-encrusted watch glinting in the lights.

“Did you get any chips yet?” asks Danny, and I reach for my complimentary chips. Luke gave me his too, so I’ve got loads.

“I’ve got fifty dollars’ worth,” I say, totting them up.