“Audiobooks?” Roy’s eyebrows shot up. “Dude, that’s my jam! You done anything I would have listened to?”
She sipped her cocktail and discovered the secret to dislodging gold flake was, apparently, more gold flake.
Meanwhile, Adaku said, “You’ve heard her, trust me. She does, like, every big book! She’s won every award that can be won! Have you listened to Them Hills?” Sewanee had to give Adaku credit for sizing this guy up. If there were any book she’d narrated that he’d probably listened to, it was going to be last year’s hyper-masculinized bestselling Western. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid told from the woman’s perspective.
He lit up like a slot machine. “Dude! Dude! That book rocked! That was you?”
She presented herself awkwardly with her hands.
Roy peered at Sewanee, seeing her anew. “You crushed it! Wait, so did you meet the guy who played Butch and Sundance? Do you, like, record together?”
Adaku and Sewanee looked at each other then back at Roy. Adaku said, “What guy?”
“The guy! The guy who voiced the guys.”
Adaku and Sewanee looked at each other again. Adaku said, “That wasn’t a guy.”
“No, the Butch-and-Sundance-guy guy.”
“Ohhhh, that guy. Yeah, he wasn’t a guy.” Adaku was enjoying this a bit too much.
“Who wasn’t a guy?”
“The guy reading.”
“Wasn’t a guy?”
“Nope.”
Sewanee intervened before Adaku short-circuited Roy. “What she’s trying to say is, it was me.”
Roy took a moment with this. An extended moment. He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I see.” He turned to Adaku. “You think I think she did the whole book, including the guys!” Roy guffawed. “No way I would have thought that! But I can understand how you would think I thought that.”
Adaku’s head jerked around on her neck like a malfunctioning robot. “Well. Glad we cleared that up!”
Roy turned back to Swan. “So, who was the guy?”
Sewanee considered making up a name and moving on. Adaku was no help at this point, having submerged her laughing face in her drink. She’d give it one more go. “Roy?” Her tone was kindergarten teacher. “The guy? The guys? Were me.”
Roy threw his head back. “Not you, too! The guy–”
“Roy?” Same tone. He looked at her again. “When I recorded Them Hills, the . . . book people? Had me do all the voices. Butch and Sundance included.”
Silence. “All the voices?”
“All the voices,” Sewanee repeated.
Roy stilled. Then tilted his head. He looked like a Labrador waiting for a command.
She dropped her voice to a place that was second nature at this point. “‘Someday, Butch, you’re gonna die and then you’ll realize you never really lived.’”
Roy stared at her.
Sewanee took a sip of her drink, waiting.
Finally: “Dude.”
Adaku banged the table. “Amazing, right?!”
The sound snapped Roy out of his confusion. Now he was awestruck. “How do you do that?”
Sewanee waved him in and spoke quietly, mysteriously. “Keep it to yourself. Know what I mean?”
He looked as though he had been allowed to peek behind a curtain. He slowly bobbed his head. “Riiiight. Totally.” He winked knowingly and headed back to his post at the bar.
Adaku took a moment. Then shrugged. “Okay, so not him!”
“HIT ME!”
They’d landed at a blackjack table. Adaku was playing, Sewanee was watching.
The dealer turned over the next card. “Twenty-one.”
“Bam!” Adaku pulled Sewanee down into the seat next to her. “Come on! Play!” She pushed a stack of $25 chips in front of her and said to the dealer, “She’s playing.”
“Not with your money.”
“Shhhh. Ten minutes! Ten little minutes! I’m on a roll. Then we’ll go find your roulette wheel.”
“I have prep work to–”
“The books aren’t going anywhere, Swan.”
The dealer said, “Card change, ladies. It’ll be a couple minutes.”
Relieved, Sewanee sat back.
And sensed two guys skulk up behind them.
“’Scuse me?” The taller one tapped Adaku on her shoulder.
Sewanee watched her pull away from the touch even as she turned to them with her stock yes-it’s-me smile. “Hi!”
“Holy crapolla. It is you! We wasn’t sure.”