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"Not literally, although." he added, shifting his eyes toward Rose. "you might consider posing for Playboy or something to help spike your careers. False modesty has no place in our world."

"What if it isn't false?" Rose countered.

"Lulu Belle, darlin', all modesty is false when it comes to being in the spotlight."

"My name's not Lulu Belle," Rose shot back sharply.

"Just funnin' with ya, darlin'." Howard continued.

"Give it a rest, will you. Romeo," Steven said, stepping forward, "And let her meet a real Romeo. Fin Steven Jesse, pianist extraordinaire."

He reached out to shake Rose's hand, but when she extended hers, he pulled his back.

"Sorry. but I have to protect my fingers. They're insured by Lloyd's of London for ten million dollars."

"Really?" I asked.

"Of course... not!"he cried, laughing.

Rose looked at me with an expression asking if Steven and Howard were for real. I shrugged.

"Let's go help Ice defrost," Cinnamon said.

"Who's Ice?" Howard inquired.

"The girl who's behind the closed door. No one has met her yet and, if you look at the time, we all have to be downstairs to meet Dracula's daughter," Cinnamon told him.

"Dracula's daughter?" I asked.

"Ms. Fairchild," she replied.

Steven thought that was very funny.

"Go on and laugh," Howard said, stepping closer to him. "Until you find her at your neck."

"Something tells me he'd enjoy it," Cinnamon muttered. Even I laughed at Steven's shocked look.

"Hey, just a minute here," he cried as we all started out to knock on the door of the last one to be introduced.

Cinnamon knocked, and we waited. When Ice did not come to her door. Cinnamon looked at us. and Howard suggested she might have gone ahead.

"I doubt that," Cinnamon said.

"What are you. psychic?" Steven asked. He was still smarting from the way she had made fun of him a moment ago. She turned those beady eyes on him.

"Yes, so watch yourself. I'll know exactly what you're thinking," she said. She glared into his face and he stepped back.

Just then the door opened and the most striking African- American that I had ever seen stood there glaring out at us. She was about my height, with a rich light-chocolate complexion and jeweled ebony eyes. Her hair was styled and cut just below her earlobes. She wore a belted white dress and a pair' of sandals.

"Your name is Ice?" Howard asked in a skeptical tone.

I saw the heat quickly build in her face, her eves becoming brighter, like the flash of two candles flaming in his direction.

"That's right." she said. "That a problem for you?"

"No. no. It's great. I'm Howard Rockwell. This is Cinnamon, Rose. Honey. and Mozart," he added, nodding at Steven.

"My name is Steven Jesse," Steven corrected. "He's an idiot." Ice nodded as if she had known for years.