“I was in that church, ready to complete your archaic bargain. It is you who has one too many daughters named Cassiopeia,” Theron replied in a controlled voice. Inside he fumed over the injustice of innocent people suffering while the Dolmides family played games with their lives.
“There is only one Cassiopeia, and she stood by your side at the altar on April first. The other is a con woman trying to extort money from Dolmides Global.”
“How much money has she asked for? If all she wants is money, why have you not paid her off?” Theron demanded.
“You are an impertinent upstart,” Costas ground his cigar into the ashtray on his desk.
“How much does she want?” Theron repeated.
“I do not know,” Costas grumbled.
“If she is not asking for money, what else does she want?”
“Of course she wants money. Women always do, except for my lovely Kelley. She has never demanded anything from me.”
“Costa, we cannot wait any longer for her demands. You must sign the papers today,” Theron took one hand out of his pocket to push the agreement papers towards Costas.
“I promised Cassiopeia that you would marry her. The poor girl has her heart set on marriage to you. It still remains at the center of our deal.”
“You have ignored the girl her entire life. Why is it now so important that I marry her?” Theron really did want to hear Dolmides answer, though after meeting Cassidy, tasting the sweetness of her lips, he knew he could not make love to Cassiopeia Dolmides. At least not the girl Costas Dolmides was trying to pass off as his daughter.
“Perhaps it is because I have ignored her. When Kelley’s relatives brought Cassiopeia to us, she very sweetly thanked us for all we had done to ensure her proper upbringing. I took care of her financially. Her reunion with Kelley was touching.” Costas shoved the papers away from him.
“How do you know she is the real Cassiopeia?” Theron persisted.
“My daughter has been lovingly raised by Patricia Jenkins, Kelley’s relative. She has sent us monthly reports. Never has she mentioned Cassiopeia in anything but glowing terms. There is no way that little termagant is mine,” Costas stood up. “Go find the imposter and make sure she signs the proper papers to overturn the injunction. As soon as you are married to my daughter you will gain all you wish to own.”
“Send your people after her.” As much as Theron wanted to see Cassidy again, he knew it would be impossible to marry Cassiopeia if he saw the little firecracker again. She ignited something deep within him that no other woman had ever set a spark to. Cassidy Flynn was a matter best left to Costas.
“Joseph Jenkins has already left to find his daughter. Cassiopeia confided to Kelley that she is afraid that Jenkins will hurt the woman when he finds her. I do not like the young woman, but I do not wish to cause my daughter distress because Jenkins has harmed her cousin. Plus the scandal it would cause would not reflect well on my family or my business,” Costas’s beady eyes burned into Theron’s. “It is time to resolve this issue. It is time you resolved this issue.”
The hair on the back of Theron’s neck rose at the thought of smarmy Joe Jenkins going near Cassidy. He would find her, get the signed affidavit from her, and then he would marry Cassiopeia Dolmides and do his duty.
Chapter 7
“Hey, boss! Do we really need so many people working tonight?” Sandy Butler flashed his boy next door grin at Cassidy. “I keep tripping over people back here.”
Cassidy stopped restocking the bar long enough to look Sandy in the eye. “Yes, we do.”
“I know we’re expecting a huge crowd, Cass. I was really hoping to clean up in tips, but if you cut my station in half I won’t be able to make anything at all. With Easter only a few weeks away, I was plannin’ to go shoppin’ in Lubbock tomorrow for new clothes for the kids and stuff,” Bobby Jean, one of the cocktail waitresses, complained.
“I get it. Nobody is happy about having extra help. So who’s volunteering to go home? You,” she pointed at Bobbie Jean. “Or you, Sandy?” Cassidy was tempted to lock the doors and close for the night. She was the owner. She could do it. The business had been built on her sweat, blood, and tears. She paid her workers well. Now her employees wanted her to risk everything so they could make a few extra bucks. Then she saw Bobbie Jean’s hands shaking. She was a single mom and must be terrified of being sent home with empty pockets. “Y’all will make out just fine, as long as you give good service to the customers you have in your section. If you leave them waiting all night for a round or you fail to pick up the empties, that will affect your tips more than having less tables to cater to. In fact, better service on fewer tables will make you more money.”
Once the set up was complete Cassidy climbed on top of the bar. “I have a few things for y’all to remember before the hordes descend upon us.” She held up a finger. “Boys, if you have even a tiny glimmer of suspicion that someone has been drinking before they got here, you are to refuse admittance.” She flicked up another finger. “Two, triple check all I.D.’s, I don’t care if you think they are old enough, make sure the state says they are.” A third finger went up. “Three, shut them off before they’re drunk and be sure to tell the other waitresses and bartenders. If you are in doubt ask someone else. I’ll be bopping around all night. Four, nobody, absolutely nobody, is to touch you. Serving drinks is not a contact sport. Five, check the bathrooms frequently. If there are drugs, find me or Moose immediately. Six, when we reach capacity not another person is to be admitted. No matter who it is. Seven, if you think a fight is about to break out you are to step back and tell the closest employee to get me and Moose. Do NOT try to handle it yourself. Y’all don’t get paid enough to chance getting hurt.”
Cassidy hated having to give such detailed instructions. She had a well-trained crew. They knew what to do, but she didn’t want anyone to get hurt trying to be a hero. In this case an insult was better than an injury
“Ready, troops?”
Everyone raised their right fist in the air to show they were battle ready.
“Open the doors, Moose.”
~*~
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Theron asked, distaste thick in his throat.
“My operative said Cassidy Flynn Vega, the name she goes by around here, closes the joint every night.” The man in the cheap suit threw a speculative look towards the tall Greek.
“Sir, maybe you should go back to the hotel and I will go in with this man,” Luca, Theron’s chief bodyguard suggested in Greek. “There is a large crowd already, even though it is still early. It is not safe for you to do this.”
Theron looked at the two tattooed giants guarding the doors. They wore matching black tee-shirts, with a silver scorpion stretched across the broad chests. The shirt stretched tight over bulging muscles, while the scorpion posed suggestively with its head pointed to the men’s groins.
Theron understood his bodyguard’s concern. The place was obviously a dive, as bad as any waterfront tavern he had run errands for as a young boy. Apparently the imposter was a hooker after all. His lip curled in distain. There was plenty of honest work for anyone who wanted it. A woman who sold herself for money was lazy. It looked like Costas was right in thinking she was out to squeeze money out of her cousin’s good fortune.
“Whadda ya mean I can’t take my gun in?” a loud voice shouted from in front of the line.
“No guns allowed on the premises.” The bouncer jerked his thumb towards a hand written sign hanging on the door.
The gun owner spit a wad of tobacco at the bouncer’s foot. “It’s my Constitutional right!”
“I’m not here to debate the Constitution with you. No guns.” The bouncer said coolly.
“This is Texas. We keep our guns with us. Never know when you’re gonna run into a rattler.” The man persisted.
“The boss is a Yankee and she says no guns.” The bouncer stood with his bulging arms crossed.
“I’m never coming
here again.” The Texan said as he tried to pull a blonde woman out of line with him.
The blonde punched him in the arm. “Speak for yourself, Pete. I’m going in and I’m going to keep coming here. The Scorpion is the best place to dance. And you always know your drink was made in a clean glass. You run on along and play with your little six-shooter while I go in and par-tay!”
The Texan’s face turned bright red, but he stepped back into line and held his arms out to be patted down. Theron was amused to see the man did not have a weapon on him, even though he had made such a scene.
The next man in line held out his arms and said, “Waylan, I admit I’m carrying, but I promise I’ll be good.”
“Hoyt, you know I can’t let you in with a gun,” the bouncer responded.
“Please. I gotta go in, my girl is already in there. I got dropped off and I don’t have a car to leave it in.”
“Hoyt, you know you’re the reason we instituted the ‘no gun’ policy. Last time you shot the juke box it took nearly three months before it would play music again. It was gettin’ so bad the boss threatened to sing,” the bouncer chuckled.
“That couldn’t be too bad. She’s a purdy little thing,” Hoyt said.
“It is a really bad thing. She may be purty, but she’s got the ugliest singing voice you’ve ever heard.” The bouncer held out his hand. “Give me the piece and I’ll hold on to it for you.”
The man named Hoyt handed over a large revolver and went into the bar.
“Theos!” Theron mumbled in Greek. “What kind of place is this?”
Luca grinned at him and answered in Greek. “I think it is going to be a fun night.”
“Is the woman an alcoholic or a hooker?” Theron asked the investigator in disgust. It was a good thing the woman didn’t have any children. If she did he would have had to force Costas to intervene on the child’s behalf. That is, of course, if she were really Costas’ daughter. Thanks to the obstinacy of Costas Dolmides, they were at a standstill.
The Dolmides family insisted their candidate was the “real” daughter. The surprisingly top-notched Greek lawyers Cassidy had hired persisted with the claim she was the true child of Costas Dolmides’ seed. Her attorneys had placed a legal injunction before the courts. Both the Greek and American courts had issued orders to prevent the marriage of Cassiopeia Amethyst Flynn and Theron Alexandros Christofides. The result was no marriage. He did not have control of the company or Evadne, nor did he have the DNA results. What he did have now, courtesy of Costas Dolmides, was the distasteful job of confronting a drunken whore in a dirty dive in Texas.
“The broad gets around,” cheap suit gloated.
“You know the woman?”
“I met her and Vega, the so-called husband, when they first came to Texas. She’s an uppity bitch. Thinks she’s better ’an everybody else. Her and Vega did business in a dive in Amarillo for awhile.”
Bile rose in Theron’s throat. The situation was going from bad to worse. He had to make this woman see reason. Tonight. “What kind of business?”
“The same as she does here,” the man pulled a fat cigar out of his breast pocket.
“No smoking on the premises,” a tattooed giant said as they reached the door.
“Waddya mean ‘no smoking’? It’s a bar, not a tea parlor, ain’t it?” Cheap suit said as he struck a match.
The tattooed man pinched the flaming tip of the match between his thumb and forefinger. “The boss says ‘no smoking on the premises’, that means no smoking. Either git rid of the cigar or leave. There’s plenty more in back of you that wants in.”
Theron took the cigar away from the investigator. He couldn’t believe he had actually engaged the services of such a person. His corporate security people had assured him this was the best man in the area for the job. He had to talk to the imposter now, before it was too late for the merger and before she had enough time to become drunk. He didn’t have time to straighten out this fool.
“We will be going in.”
“There aren’t any tables left, but there are a few seats at the bar. If you ask me, the bar is the best seat in the house, anyway. You get a great view of everything going on.” The doorman was the size of a Cyclops, with a spiral tattoo swirling on the left side of his bald head. His twin, or at least a close facsimile, was stationed on the other side of the double doors. Their size alone would make them valuable to any personal security team. The eyes on the one closest to him were clouded by neither drugs nor alcohol. They were in fact quite clear. Perhaps the head of Christofides security should look into employing them. They would frighten his adversaries into reconsidering their positions.
“Do you know if Cassi-dy Flynn will be here tonight?” Theron fought to keep his voice casual. Theos, he had almost given himself away by calling the imposter Cassiopeia. If he did that he would be giving her the psychological upper hand in the forthcoming negotiations. He was here to get her to retract her claim with as little pay-out as possible. Her foolish attempt at blackmail had gone on long enough. If she could not be brought to see reason than she must be bought off. Soon.
He would talk to her tonight, before she became too inebriated. He had to make her understand the importance of the situation. He wanted to be back in the air before the night was over. Considering there had been no contact with her marks, she must be getting desperate, and ready, to accept any amount offered. Principle decreed he should not pay her anything at all, but the merger and the marriage must go through without any further delay.
Luca led the way to three open seats at the bar. A pretty-boy bartender approached with a huge smile on his face. He placed cardboard coasters on the bar in front of them. “Good evening, gents. What’s your poison?”
“I’ll have a draft of imported, a shot of Cuervo Gold, lime, and a shaker of salt,” the investigator said tapping the wooden bar with his middle finger. “And I want an ashtray.”
“Sorry, sir, there’s no smoking allowed in this bar,” the pretty boy said.
Theron shot the investigator a silencing look. He did not want trouble because the lout wished to smoke, and the last thing Theron wanted was alcohol. The place looked clean enough, but it wasn’t the kind of place he wanted to drink in. “Single malt scotch, on the rocks.”
Luca ordered a soda, as was his usual custom.
“We expect a large crowd tonight so we won’t be running any tabs, unless you plan to pay by credit card. If so, I’ll have to have your card now. It’ll be returned to you after you settle up,” the barman said as he placed the drinks in from of them.
If the girl talked about her exploits when she drank everyone in the state had already been made privy of the details of the blackmail attempt and would have heard of him. There may be those who would try to capitalize on that information. Ever since his private wealth had become a matter of public knowledge there was always someone who expected a hand out. Christos. This was Dolmides dirty clothing, Dolmides should be taking care of it.
“I will pay now,” Theron said. He placed a fifty on the bar.
“The name is Sandy. If you want anything just holler.” He gave them a distracted smile as he made change for them and then moved onto a group of women seated at the corner of the bar.
Theron took a look around. It was rustic American. A lot of knotty wood. A lot of bright neon signs. A lot of loud people. Very rustic American. Nothing like the exclusive clubs he frequented when he was in LA., New York, or Miami. Those places used lights, mirrors, and special glass to create an atmosphere. Women shopped for days to find the right dress when they knew they would be going to one of the clubs with Theron Christofides. A dress suitable for a Miami club would cost more than all the clothing in this . . . place combined.
Did the woman think she was justified in her scheme? If it only affected Costas Dolmides he would have wished her good luck, but there were too many people who would be hurt if she continued to hold the wedding hostage.
The background noise fell t
o a clamor before a hush fell over the crowd. Heads turned to a door at the back of the room. His eyes followed. She was momentarily silhouetted in the door; the back light showed off her remarkable figure. He wondered if she always entered rooms in such a way. His could see her posed just so in his bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but her flaming hair.
He was jolted out of the vision when she moved away from the door. She was headed straight for him. The ubiquitous boots showed off legs that went on forever before they met a denim skirt which was barely decent. Its shortness hardly seemed capable of covering the essentials. It hung low on her hips and stopped high on her thighs. A black, scooped neck, tee-shirt encased plump white breasts, her deep cleavage was showcased above the neckline. The top stopped just short of her bejeweled navel. A black cowboy hat was set rakishly on a head as bright as a pyrotechnia. Theron longed to toss that hat aside and see if the hair was as hot as it looked. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair and his arousal in her.
He was disgusted with himself. Patsy and Joe had told him horror stories about this woman as a teenager. Her character was why he would not sample her body. She was nothing like her innocent cousin Cassiopeia. This woman was sex on luscious, endless legs.
He drank his scotch down in one gulp. He was here on business. He never confused business with pleasure. To watch her cross the room was enough to assure him the sex would be pleasure, even if pleasure was her business.
He had to flush her out of his system and complete this deal. He was needed in Greece and he needed to be there before he did something that would jeopardize all his plans. Cassiopeia would be hurt if she found out he had sex with her cousin. He may not want a wife at this stage of his life, but since she was to be his wife, she deserved his respect and his fidelity.
He continued to watch the woman weave her way through the crowd. She stopped at one table to hug a big woman. She glided by another slapping hands with an older man. She walked by another table and the man guzzling beer from a bottle reached out and grabbed her denim clad derriere. Theron wanted to plant his fist in the lout’s face. She stopped her forward movement, turned on one booted heel, and hit the man across the face so hard he fell off his seat. It was all done in one smooth movement, as if it was an act she performed often. The other three men at the table started to stand, but two large men in scorpion tee-shirts appeared at her side and the man’s three friends quickly resumed their seats. At a nod from the woman, the bouncers assisted the man to his feet and dragged him out of the bar.
The Counterfeit Bride Page 5
