by Raquel Belle
She half tilts her head and gives me a tired smile, “Third time this week,” she says, “wait here, I’ll get someone for you.”
She makes a call and then tries to look busy while I stand there with my hands in my pockets. About a minute later an average sized Hispanic man comes through a door behind the blonde, she points me out and he comes around the desk to greet me.
“Alonso Gomez,” he puts his hand out.
“Joshua Stone,” I say.
“So, you’re another one of these anonymous security guys who can’t say who your boss is, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Third time this week.”
“She mentioned,” I point to the blonde.
“You know, if I didn’t know what was happening on Saturday, I’d think you guys were casing the joint.”
I laugh.
“Look, your guys aren’t coming in here on Saturday, this was all explained, they’ve got their own security managing the event so…too many cooks you know? I’m going to take you for a walk through but this is only for your peace of mind.”
“Peace of mind is what I’m looking for,” I say as he turns and heads to the elevators.
“We’re going to have four guards posted outside the entrance there,” he points to the glass doors, “another four on the inside and there’s going to be metal detectors at the front here. The only guys packing are going to be event security and they’ve got some hardcore private security company from outside the country involved. Real heavy hitters.”
The doors open and we step inside.
“Impressive,” I say, “where are they from?”
“I’m not too sure, I spoke to the main guy and he’s American so I don’t know. But these guys were scary motherfuckers, man.”
The ride up is long, we don’t bother with small talk, the doors open and we step out.
Alonso goes on, “Four more guards at the elevators here.”
“Geez, that’s a lot of guards.”
“I’m telling you, man.”
We walk on, down a large hallway.
“Down this hallway there’s going to be two guards on either side every thirty feet, and here there’s another metal detector for guests who arrive by helicopter and take the elevator down from the roof.”
We keep walking a short distance and come to a massive set of doors.
“There’ll be two guards here,” Alonso points to either side of the doors and then he slides one open on its rail.
We step inside. The room is grand. There must be at least fifty of these fancy wood and leather low back chairs. They’re arranged in singles and doubles, probably customized for the guests. Each one has a small, dark, wooden table placed next to it—for drinks I expect. There’s also a button on the table which looks to be attached to numbered lights which are raised about eight feet up for bidding. There’s a small display on the table as well, I’d guess for close up views of the items being auctioned.
“One guard at each corner, there, there, there and there,” we walk up to the front of the room where there’s a slightly raised dais with a podium. Behind it is a massive, vertically paneled glass window with a magnificent view of the city.
“Through that door there,” he points to the left of the stage, “that’s where the lots come in. There’s an elevator that has two guards posted at it, there’s two more down where the elevator opens up to the vault in the substructure. There’s two guards inside the vault and two outside. You see? Nothing to worry about, every inch of this place is covered.”
“What’s this made out of?” I tap on the glass and it makes a thunk, thunk, thunk noise.
“That? That’s just tempered glass, homie. What? You expecting it to be bullet proof?”
“I thought it might be.”
“Look out there,” he points at the view, “We’re so high up, ain’t no way somebody’s making a straight shot in here. Anybody on any other building out there, best shot they’ll get is maybe the first three feet of the ceiling here,” he points up.
I give him a stern look, when you don’t talk it makes people want to reveal more to fill the silence.
“Oh, you’re thinking a chopper is going to fly out here with a sniper inside? Well, you got to have the steadiest aim in the game with all that wind and turbulence to pick one face out of fifty and make a shot like that. But you know what, boss? I still got you covered, there’s five guys on the roof and one of them has a rocket launcher.” He smiles and puts his hands on his hips.
“What are the guards carrying?”
“Glock 9s, P90s.”
I nod.
“Man, this place is going to be locked up tighter than a nun’s asshole. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, nothing but the guards.”
“Say what?”
“Nothing, show me the restrooms and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Back of the room, left and right, men and women,” he points them out.
***
Deanna
It’s about three hours later when Jack returns to the room. “Hey,” I put my arms out and flash him a smile from the bed. He sets down some takeout bags on the table and comes to me. I hold him and give him a kiss. Is it weird that it feels like we’re a couple?
“Hey, yourself,” he says, “what’s all this?”
“Research. I called Anton to get a computer. How’s the hotel looking?”
“In their own words—locked up tighter than a nun’s asshole.”
“That’s an image I can do without.”
He laughs, “Yeah, the place is a fortress. At a rough count there’s going to be at least thirty-five armed guards. It’s impenetrable. But during looks to be our best shot, which means we have to get a ticket in there.”
“I’m all over it, Jackhammer.”
He smiles, “Yeah?”
“I’ve been brushing up on my art history, I figure if I drop the right names this guy might just get horny enough to invite me to the auction.”
“You’re sure you’re up to this?”
“It’s just a little harmless flirting.”
“As long as that’s all it is, I don’t want it going any further than that.”
“Why? You the jealous type?”
“You bet your cute little ass I am.” Jack nudges the computer out of the way, pushes me down and climbs on top of me. He kisses me, long, slow and deep. “Don’t go forgetting whose girl you are.”
Did he really just say that?
Now I don’t know what to say back. We’re both still. Silent. I’m looking into his eyes and I know he means it. It feels like it lasts forever.
I do the only thing I can think of…I kiss him…hard. And then our bodies take over. It’s thirsty, hungry and passionate, raw and undisciplined. I roll over so I’m on top. Jack starts to pull my top off and that’s when I come to my senses. “Stop, stop, stop.” I tap his chest.
“What?” He looks confused. “What’s wrong?”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “If we start this now, we’re not going to finish any time soon…and we’ve got work to do.”
Jack groans as I get off him. I do it slowly, reluctantly. I see him grimace.
“Are you okay?”
He points to the bulge in his pants, “I just need a minute.”
I chuckle and pat his cock through the denim, “You’ll live.”
“Ow,” he flinches, “don’t make it worse.”
We’re quiet again. It’s not only the fact that we’ve got work to do… It’s because of what he said. I’m confused and I don’t know how to feel about it. This is only the third day. Are we nuts? Not having said anything back was also awkward as fuck. Now it’s hanging there in the air and I just stopped us from having sex.
What’s wrong with me? I want him, so why am I freaking out?
Chapter Eighteen
Jack
That was a little strange. Maybe I was coming on a little strong. Don�
��t go forgetting whose girl you are? What the fuck was I thinking? I haven’t said that to anyone before. I don’t even know why I said it. I need to remind myself that we’re on day three of a non-stop rollercoaster that’s just getting started…it’s easy for three days to feel like three months.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline talking. The juice you get pumping through your veins as you gear up for a mission. This is not your average courtship. Don’t get carried away.
Sure, I’ve been with a fair number of women before, but those were relationships that I knew were going to end even as they began. Those women and I just happened to be in the same place at the same time and we took comfort where we could. When there’s a chance you might die the next day, you’re hoping your last memory is going to be a good one.
There’s never been anyone like Deanna though. I’ve dragged her in to one hell of a mess and she’s playing ball. I don’t want to overwhelm her. It’s probably best to focus on one thing at a time and leave the emotional crap out of it. It’s never been my strong suit anyway.
“Hey,” Deanna says, breaking the spell I’m in, “I had an idea while you were gone.”
“Yeah?”
“You know how in the movies when the spies are on a mission and they’re talking to people on an earpiece?”
“Not from movies, but yeah, I know. From real life I mean.”
She laughs, it’s kind of nervous. I definitely screwed up just now. “Of course you do. Well, I thought up a way we can do that with normal off-the-shelf stuff.”
“Hmm?”
“Bluetooth earpieces. I was thinking I could paint them and decorate them and make them look like earrings. I just have to call you and then leave my phone in my purse and no one will be the wiser.”
“Good thinking, that’s pretty smart.” It really is.
“I know,” she crinkles her nose at me, “I also googled the bar that Melvin goes to and checked out pictures and stuff so I know what to wear, I need to go do a bit of shopping though.”
I reach in to my pocket and pull out a wad of cash, “I stopped to give Anton an update on my way in, I got some money from him. Is five-grand enough,” I hand it to her.
“More than enough,” she raises her brow, then goes to put her shoes on.
“Are you going right now? I brought lunch. Chicken tikka masala.”
“That does sound good, but I really should get this done first. I’m not that hungry anyway, maybe when I get back.”
“Do you want some company?”
“Nope, that’s alright, everything is walking distance. Macy’s is around the corner and The Bloc shopping mall too, so I’m going to zip around from store to store, I’ll be quicker on my own. I already got the lay of the land on google.” She’s zipping around right now, shoving things in to her pockets, not even making eye contact with me.
“Deanna, did I do something wrong?”
“What? No. Don’t be silly,” she comes up to me and gives me a quick peck on the cheek,” I’ll be back in a couple of hours.
Before I can begin to say anything else, she’s out the door. Yeah, I definitely did something wrong.
I got a kiss on the cheek…
***
After having a bit of the chicken, I got bored with having nothing to do so I decided to give Pete a call and check in on him.
I’m not really a sit around and watch TV kind of guy—I did that two days ago and it was enough.
Pete’s the only other person I know in LA so I figured, what the hell? He was happy to hear from me and suggested we go grab a drink. After what happened with Deanna, I thought I could use one. I walked east a few blocks and found a bar called Tanner’s. He said it was the cheapest place he’d found so far. Once I step in, I can tell why. This is the definition of a dive bar.
It’s my kind of place though—small, quiet, dark, just some locals—the kind of place where people mind their own business.
I spot Pete at the bar counter, he gives me a big smile and stands as I approach. He’s dressed in the same clothes as the last time I saw him. We shake hands and greet each other. A minute later we’re both set up with a couple of Heinekens.
“You found a place a to live yet?” I ask.
“I’ve got a buddy out here who lives in a studio apartment, I’m crashing on his couch till I get on my feet.”
“What about work? Got a lead on anything?”
“I’m not going to get a job. If I did that then I wouldn’t have time to go for any auditions. Remember you told me that if you’ve got a backup plan it’s because you’re counting on failing?”
“I did?”
“Yeah, you did Jack.”
Shit.
“It makes sense though, because you said if you’re putting energy into plan B then that’s energy that you’re not putting into plan A.”
“I guess that does make sense,” I say, “I know it’s soon, but how about auditions? Anything on the horizon?”
“I have to get headshots done, stuff like that, I’ve still got to learn the ropes. All I know about this is what I’ve seen on TV.”
“Yeah.” This kid’s taking one heck of a gamble.
“Sometimes you got to roll the dice, that’s how you win big. You really don’t remember saying any of this stuff, Jack?”
“I said that one too, huh?” I signal the bartender, “Two tequila shots, please.”
He pours them.
“Say, kid,” I turn to Pete, “I didn’t happen to give you any advice about women, did I?”
“Nope, why do you ask?”
“Because I could sure use some right now.”
“What is it?”
“I think I did something wrong.”
“With who?”
“Deanna.”
“She’s still around?”
“Yeah, we’re working this job together and things…uh…they’re kind of going somewhere, I’m not sure where though…or if she even wants them to after today. Cheers.” We pick up our shots, clink them together and down them.
Pete lets out a little cough from the tequila, “I wish I could help but I don’t really know much about girls. I mean, I haven’t dated much or anything.”
I zone out thinking about her for a while. “She’s one in a billion.”
“Yeah?”
“Kid, there’s a difference between just fucking and…something deeper. Most guys don’t ever find it. Most guys take what they can get because you get lonely and biology makes you want to procreate. I’m not saying it’s easy to love someone or to make a family and be the kind of guy who works hard to provide and put food on the table and raise his kids right. That’s hard work for damn sure. I respect it…being a good dad. I just never thought that guy was me and I never felt any reason to want to be that guy anyway. I didn’t have it growing up so when I look at fellas doing that, I tip my hat. But that’s not who I am. I’m a soldier. Always have been, and maybe I always will be.”
“What are you trying to say Jack?”
What am I trying to say?
“I don’t know, I guess I’m saying that Deanna makes me want to be something else…and I didn’t know it till today.”
He doesn’t say anything. I don’t expect him to. Heck, I don’t even know what I’m talking about.
“What about you? You had a good mom and dad, right?” I try to change the subject.
“Yeah, I did. They were good people,” Pete looks sad, “they did the best they could.”
“You’re lucky you had them for as long as you did, kid. I didn’t even know mine.”
“Yeah, you told me.”
“Jeez, how long were we in that bar?”
Pete laughs, “A long time, Jack.”
“How about one more?” I ask.
“Sure.”
We get another round of beer and tequila and shoot the breeze. Just two guys hanging out. It’s nice, but I’m going to have to stop after this one. Deanna and I have got work to do and to be quite honest, duri
ng the last two years of my life, I’ve taken a bit of a shine to the bottle. I have a habit of not stopping once I get going—as Pete can testify to.
When I take my last sip of beer, I set my bottle on the counter, drop a fifty down and say, “Good catching up, Pete. I better get back, Deanna’s probably waiting for me at the hotel.” I shake his hand, “See you around, kid.”
Pete gives me a look. Shit. He pulls his gun and shouts, “NOBODY MOVE! THIS IS A ROBBERY!”
There’s a moment of surprise from the patrons and I see the bartender reaching behind the counter so I grab the gun from Pete and pull him toward me to calm him down.
“Sorry about that folks, he’s just practicing for his audition. He’s new in town. Sorry.” They don’t look impressed. “That was good though, right?” They don’t answer. I tuck the gun in my jeans and hustle Pete out the door with me.
“I’m sorry, Jack, I don’t know what got in to me.”
All I can do is laugh. We get to the street and the sun hits us like a hammer. I’m still laughing. This kid…
“Pete, am I’m going to have to keep this gun?”
“I’m sorry Jack, I just thought we’d do it one last time, you know?”
“Kid, this isn’t some small town where you can get away with shit like that. You’re going to get yourself shot. Here,” I shake my head and hand him the gun, “stop it. No more of that now.” I reach in to my pocket and count out a thousand dollars. I push it into his hand, “Here, that plus what we got the other day ought to keep you for a little while. No more stickups! I want you to promise me.”
“Alright, Jack. I promise. And thank you.”
“Alright, go on now.” I give him a quick pat on the back and send him on his way.
As I watch him leave, I feel a ridiculous smile grow on my face.
***
I take a slow walk back to the hotel, not the same way that I came from, I go the long way.
I watch all the people rushing around in their day to day lives. Frustrated motorists, angry cabbies, the limousines and fancy cars. Kids who look like they’re dealing. Young women who look like they’re hooking.
