by Marie Astor
“Hello.” She slid into the seat next to him.
“Hey there.” He jumped up from his chair.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She smiled brightly at him. “At least that’s not the effect I usually have on men.”
“Oh, you didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t frightened.”
She waited for him to finish his rambling tirade. She was enjoying it a little too much for her own liking.
“It’s great to see you again,” he added, fumbling with the zipper of his jacket.
“You as well. How was your day?”
“Oh, pretty good. Walked around the city. It was a nice day for walking.”
“Fall is the only time of the year when we get nice weather in New York.” Mila could have kicked herself: weather? They were talking about weather? Since Anton, she thought of herself as being immune to men, but there was something about Dennis that got to her. Perhaps it was the fact that unlike most men she met he wasn’t trying to paw or grab, but treated her with a mixture of respect bordering on aloofness. Or perhaps it was the way his blue-gray eyes looked at her as though he understood the meaning of all things that mattered. Then there was the inviting curvature of his lips, coupled with his strong chin and straight nose; he was not what you’d call handsome, but he was very cute, and cute was always so difficult to resist. Focus, Mila thought, you need him to do a job for you, not to do you.
“What would you like to drink?” Dennis offered. “A Cosmopolitan?”
“Actually, I’ll have a martini with a lemon twist,” Mila said. She didn’t like Cosmopolitans in the first place, but she had let Dennis get away with the “guessing her favorite drink” act on the Metropolitan Museum roof to make him feel better, but now she was no longer trying to flirt with him. Serious conversation called for a serious drink.
“Sounds like a good choice. I think I’ll have the same.” Dennis placed the orders with the bartender. “So what do you have in store for the rest of the night?” he asked.
“I thought we’d just let the night make up itself. Let’s have drinks first.”
Dennis nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
The bartender placed the drinks before them.
Mila raised her glass. “Cheers.”
“What are we drinking to?”
“To new friends and to new beginnings.”
If Dennis was unnerved by the husky tone of her voice, he didn’t show it. “To new friends.” He raised his glass to his lips, taking a long sip.
Mila eyed him out of the corner of her eye. Could she trust this man with the task of utmost importance that she needed him to do for her? The thought was unnerving, but then it wasn’t as though she had much choice, unless she wanted to marry Anton and turn into a perpetual maid / babysitter. If only she had had more time to plan this, but then it wasn’t as though Anton was in the habit of informing her of his plans. It was mere luck that she had had this little bit of warning to begin with. At least she wasn’t completely unprepared. With her friend Amy’s help, she had opened a bank account in a small bank in Ireland. Her plan was to transfer the money there and let Anton go on a wild goose chase afterwards. His uncle might have most of the Eastern Europe under his heel, but Mila doubted that Petr Kovar’s tentacles would stretch as far as Ireland.
Mila placed her glass on the counter. “So, Dennis, I wanted to tell you why I asked you to meet me here today.”
“I might add that I’m very glad that you did. I’m sorry for being a little distracted the last time we met. You see, I’m going through a bit of a rough patch—”
Mila smiled. “You can relax, Dennis. I’m not here to seduce you. I know all about your sex addiction. I’m all for staying on the wagon.”
“My sex addiction?”
“Janet told me all about it.”
“Oh, of course. Dear Cousin Janet; I can always count on her to lend a helping hand,” Dennis sighed.
“You don’t need to be so embarrassed about it. I looked it up; apparently, it’s become quite a common condition. Some of the major celebrities are suffering from it, but it is treatable, and I’m so glad that you’re getting your life back on track.”
“Yes, I’m working through it. Thank you for your understanding. I’m not used to having my problems out in the open like this.”
“Well, I’m about to entrust you with a very important secret, so I feel much better that I know this about you.”
“Oh?”
“May I speak with you in a professional capacity?”
“Yes, of course. Normally, I would sign an agreement beforehand, but I believe that we can set the formalities aside for now.”
“Good. I don’t like formalities. So Dennis, you told me that you’re good with computers and safes and things like that, and I was wondering if you could help me with a little assignment.”
“I’m listening.”
“I should probably ask you your rate first.”
“That depends on the job, but since you’re a friend of my cousin’s, I’ll cap it at fifty dollars per hour plus expenses.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“So what’s the job?”
“A little time ago I came into some inheritance from my grandmother. There were some issues with transferring the money here, and let’s just say that right now I don’t have it in my possession. It’s in someone else’s account, and I need you to do two things: break into the safe where the bank token is kept and then hack into the bank account.”
Dennis whistled. “To be frank, this isn’t really up my alley.”
Mila’s face fell. “You said that you were good with computers and safes.”
“I am, but usually I don’t “hack” into computers to steal money.”
“This isn’t stealing! That money belongs to me.”
Dennis took a swallow of his martini. “You’ll have to give me a little bit more information than that.”
“Then you’ll agree to do the job?”
“I can’t promise you that until I hear the whole story, but you’re free to look elsewhere.”
Damn it, Mila thought. Dennis was turning out to be quite a hustler, pressing her like that. It wasn’t as though she had much of a choice, and he had probably sensed that. “Like I said, it’s an inheritance from my grandmother. I didn’t want to pay estate taxes—”
“Estate taxes? How much money are we talking about here?”
“Over a million dollars.”
Dennis whistled. “Perhaps I should adjust my fee.”
“Perhaps you should stop giving me lip and listen,” Mila snapped. “I don’t see clients lining up for your services. This is an easy way for you to make a few bucks. I’ll double your fee to one hundred dollars per hour, but that’s it. Now are you going to do the job or what?”
“All right, lady, you drive a tough bargain. I’m in. Now tell me exactly what you need me to do.”
“It’s quite simple, really. The person who currently has the money in his account is my,” Mila halted, at a loss of how to characterize her relationship with Anton.
“Boyfriend?” Dennis suggested.
“How do you know that?”
“Janet mentioned that you’re seeing this guy Anton at work, so I put two and two together.”
The word boyfriend turned her stomach when used in connected with Anton, but Mila nodded. “Yes, my boyfriend. We’re living together, and he’s away for the next three days. I’d like to do it tomorrow in case he comes back early.”
“Can we do it the day after tomorrow?”
“Why? Is your schedule packed with other engagements? Or are you too busy walking around the city, clearing your head?”
“Ouch. No, because I’d like some time to prepare, to make sure I have everything in order. I’ll need you to get me additional information.”
“I have all the information.”
“All right, then can you tell me the model and serial number of the safe?”
Mila s
tared back at him; she had no idea. It pissed her off to admit that Dennis was right, but maybe they did need more time to prepare. “I can get that for you. What else?”
“What bank is his account with? It would speed things up if I had that information in advance. Every bank has its own firewall quirks. A little preparation would be helpful.”
“It’s Avion Credit; it’s a small Czech bank.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them, but I’ll do my homework.”
“Fine. Anything else?”
“I think it’s plenty for now.”
“So are we all set for the day after tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’ll be there at eight p.m., sharp. Now all I need is the address.”
Mila slipped Dennis a piece of paper. “Here, I even wrote it down for you. Make sure not to lose it.”
“Hey, how about some professional courtesy? You’re the one who approached me.”
“I’m sorry.” Mila looked away. “It’s just that I’m very nervous, and I tend to get very abrupt when I’m nervous. I guess it’s an insecurity of mine.”
“You don’t say.” Dennis extended his hand to Mila. “Well, Miss Mila, it looks like we’re in business. Please be sure to bring my payment of ten thousand dollars in cash tomorrow.”
“Ten thousand dollars? Where did that come from?”
“Let’s see, the agreed upon rate is two hundred dollars per hour plus expenses.”
“Two hundred dollars? We agreed on one hundred!”
“I had to adjust the rate due to the risks involved.”
“Fine. I still don’t see how it adds up to ten grand.”
“Since I didn’t plan for an employment opportunity during my trip, I didn’t bring my kit with me, so I’ll have to buy a new one—”
“A kit? What kind of kit?”
“Lady, if you think that I can open a safe with my bare hands, you’re mistaken. There are tools of the trade that I use, and I’ll need to buy those tools. Plus the hours spent on the research and the actual job, so yes, ten thousand dollars.”
“You’re robbing me blind!”
“No I’m not. I’m offering you my services, but you’re free not to use them.”
“I don’t have ten thousand in cash. Will you take a thousand in cash and the rest as a wire transfer?”
“I prefer cash, but fine, for you, I’ll make an exception.”
“Why, thank you! You’re ever so kind.”
“I aim to please.” Dennis finished his drink. “Well, Miss Mila, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a lot of work to do. The sooner you can get me that safe model number, the better.”
“I’ll text it to you tonight.”
Chapter 12
Usually Janet’s shifts at Panther flew by in a frenzy of capricious customers, complicated menu entrees, and special drink requests, but tonight, despite it being extremely busy, the time dragged. She knew the reason well enough; as she ran from table to table, the only thing she could think of was what Dennis and Mila were up to this very moment. He was seeing Mila again tonight, and Janet couldn’t get her mind off of it. Irrational, she admitted it, but that didn’t make it any easier. Sure, she could’ve told Dennis to drop the Mila thread, but she didn’t want to seem insecure. Instead, she chose to obsess about it in silence.
“Hello, Janet,” Roman’s voice caught her off guard, literally making her shudder. “Careful there, you’ve been sneaking by me all night, but I finally found you.” Roman was standing so close to her that Janet felt his breath on her neck.
“Yes, well, I have to get to my tables, so—”
“I told one of the girls to replace you. I need you to come and help me with hosting.”
“All right.” Janet followed Roman meekly, wishing he would just buzz off. There were plenty of waitresses way more qualified for the job, and she suspected that Roman had summoned her so that he could make passes at her all night. She couldn’t possibly fathom the reason for his unrelenting persistence; as Mila had said, compared to the rest of the girls working at Panther who were a ten, Janet was a seven. Roman, however, seemed to disagree, not that his attention was flattering in any way.
“Be sure to smile that pretty smile of yours,” Roman instructed her, standing way too close. “The customers will love it.”
Janet inched away from him. Tonight he was wearing an even heavier dose of cologne than usual, making her wish for a gasmask. “Good evening, welcome to Panther,” she greeted the arriving guests. Just then, she felt Roman’s hand graze her behind. At first she thought it was just her imagination, but the second touch confirmed that her suspicions were real. She could sense Roman leering at her. It took all of her willpower to maintain a calm demeanor and escort the newly arrived party to their table.
“Table five is all yours, Clarisse,” Janet said to one of the waitresses.
“Thanks, Janet. I sure hope they’re good tippers. Table four just gypped me.”
“Believe me, I’d gladly switch places with you,” Janet sighed.
“Roman has you hosting with him, huh?”
“Yep. Apparently being groped is part of the job description.”
Clarisse’s eyes narrowed. “I hate that creep. Sometimes I fantasize about cutting off his balls.”
“Yikes! He’s not that bad.”
“I said I only fantasize,” Clarisse giggled. “I’ve got to get to my table. Hang in there.” Clarisse sauntered off.
Janet felt a storm fuming inside her. It was bad enough that she had to spend hours on her feet, enduring snide comments from moody customers, now she was being groped by some nincompoop whose only claim to fame was a rich uncle with a shady reputation? She had had enough.
When she got to the hostess stand, she smiled sweetly at Roman.
“So how do you like hosting with me?” Roman asked, his tone making it clear that he was not referring to the job at hand.
Janet batted her eyelashes, as she moved in closer to Roman and slid her hand over his crotch.
“Wow, Janet, we’ve got a job to do here. Can you wait till closing time? I promise to attend to all your needs then.”
“Listen to me, you pathetic excuse of a man,” Janet whispered into his ear as she curled her fingers around his balls, “if you as much as brush against me again, I’ll chop those boys right off, got that?” Overcoming her revulsion, she tightened her grasp as a warning.
Roman paled. “Take it easy, Janet. I was just playing around,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Neither did I,” she replied sweetly, “just a fair disclosure.”
Janet turned to greet the next arriving customer. What she saw next literally made her jaw drop. Julius Libby and his wife had just walked into the restaurant and were the next couple in queue. Somehow Janet managed to greet the couple before them, as her brain was busy figuring out a way for her to get assigned to Libby’s table.
“Good evening and welcome to Panther,” she greeted Libby and his wife.
“Good evening,” Libby replied easily. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, crisp white shirt and a dark navy tie. Conservative, but very sharp. “We don’t have a reservation, but I was hoping there might be a table? It’s our anniversary.”
“We will need to see if there are any cancellations—” Roman began haughtily.
“Of course,” Janet cut him off. Roman merely stared back at her. Although visibly annoyed, he was still too shaken to voice his displeasure with her taking over the reins. “Please, allow me to show you to your table,” Janet said.
“Thanks so much.” Libby nodded and held out his arm to his wife. She smiled and hooked her arm through his. She was wearing a black sheath of an expensive designer cut and black pumps; her hair was gathered in a low bun at the nape of her neck. The clothes fit her immaculately, but somehow she seemed awkward in them, as though she would much rather be wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top.
Janet escorted Libby and his wife to th
e table that she had selected for them: the best table in the house. The client who had reserved it would just have to make do with the second best table in the house.
“Here are the menus and our wine list. I will be right back to take your drink order.” Janet flashed her most customer friendly smile at Libby and his wife before heading back to the hostess station.
“What in the hell was that?” Roman snarled at her when she got back. “You just gave away the best table in the restaurant. That table was reserved. What are we going to say to the customer who reserved it?”
“You will tell him to suck it up,” Janet replied unflinchingly.
“What?” Roman’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. “You little— Who the hell do you think you are? I call the shots here.”
“That may very well be the case, but I don’t think your older brother or your uncle, for that matter, would be too pleased to learn that you almost refused a table to Councilman Libby. Not such a bright idea to get on his bad side, or this restaurant just might not pass its next sanitation inspection.”
Roman looked like he had literally swallowed his own tongue.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and check on Mr. Libby.” Janet bowed slightly and headed back to Libby’s table.
“May I get you anything to drink?” Janet asked.
“Yes, a bottle of Veuve Clicquot,” Libby instructed.
“Of course,” Janet replied, surprised by Libby’s choice. She had expected Libby to opt for Dom Perignon or Perrier Jouet, but apparently he was too smart to be that obvious.
“I believe we’re ready to order,” Libby said.
“Of course. Would you like to hear the specials?”
“That’s all right,” Libby’s wife spoke for the first time. “No need to put you through the trouble, as we’ve already decided.”
“My wife and I will both have the lobster bisque, followed by the duck for my wife and the steak for me,” said Libby. “We’ll take two glasses of your house red wine with the second course.”
