Apply in person, I thought. I walked to the window, pulled back the drapes, opened the window and lit a cigarette. I had quit smoking when I was in the mental health clinic, but quickly started again when I got out. I stared out the window, looking into the night, seeing all the lights glowing in the dark. Flicking my ash out the window, I thought, Penny would kill me if she knew I was smoking in her apartment.
I turned around and looked at the area, at the couch that Penny had died upon. It was gone. The forensic team removed it and there was an empty space where it sat. For some reason, I never moved the other furniture in its place, and despite my impending fortune, the thought of purchasing furniture and putting it there just seemed wrong.
I stepped into the small kitchen, opened a cabinet, grabbed a coffee cup for an ashtray, went to the open spot where the couch was and sat down on the floor. I continued smoking my cigarette, the whole time thinking about going to Vegas. It felt like the right thing to do.
At that moment, a mechanical bird popped out of the clock, sounding off. The cuckoo clock was Grandma West’s. She got it from her grandmother when she passed. I looked up at it and my mind raced back in time, when Penny and I used to stay at Grandma’s house. We slept in the living room on a sleep sofa that would fold out into a bed. It was the most uncomfortable thing you could ever sleep on. In the middle of the night, when the bird leaped from its hidden compartment, the sound it made scared me to death. Frightened by its two-toned whistle pitch, my crying would wake Penny and she would wrap her arms around me and say, “Don’t be scared Cindy, it’s just a clock.”
When I was a little girl, Penny was there in the night to protect me from the boogieman. When the tooth fairy came, she would wake me to check under my pillow and claim my prize—a quarter. When thunder and lightning crashed at two am, she would hold me and sing, “Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder where you are.” Penny was my rock, my best friend, and my hero.
I walked back to the window and looked up into the sky. The stars shined bright against the pitch-black backdrop above. I thought of Penny who knew all the constellations. I focused upon the Big Dipper and it reminded me of the times we snuck out of our bedroom window, onto the roof with our blankets where we would stare into space. She would point out the Big Dipper, identifying the outside star of the bucket, following its pattern to the North Star, which was the tip of the handle for the Little Dipper. She would always say to me, “I’m the Big Dipper and Cindy, you are the Little Dipper.”
At that moment, I started to cry. Gathering my emotions, I looked down and noticed that I had let my cigarette burn down. The one-inch ash remained intact. For some reason, I really do not know why, it made me laugh. I needed that, I said to myself, as I placed the butt in the cup. I looked one more time at the stars and then back at the desk, seeing the Cat Tails Lounge website on the screen, just as sleep-mode activated and the screen turned black.
The screensaver engaged automatically — a picture of the moon and stars. I walked over to get a closer view, scrolling across the screen was a typed message that read, “Love you to the moon and back.” Mom used to say that to us, and after she passed, Penny would always finish our phone conversations with that phrase.
Love you to the moon and back.
I placed my finger on the laptop trackpad, the screensaver dissolved and the Cat Tails website returned. Staring at the screen, I looked at Janine’s picture and the BDSM apparel. “Love you to the moon and back, Penny.”
I made the decision. I was going to go to Las Vegas.
Once the settlement hit my bank account, I made an appointment with Mr. Watkins. I asked him if he would help me legally changed my name from Cindy West to Kelly Lee. He said he could, but only after I got a new picture ID with my new name, I would have to go into the bank and present the legal documents in order to change the name on the account. It took several weeks to do, but I finally got it all done.
I was Kelly Lee.
After changing my name, I purchased Penny’s flat. Then, I installed security cameras and a new and improved lock for the door to the apartment. Next, I made a trip to the hair salon. When the hairdresser asked me what I wanted, I showed him a recent picture of Penny.
The following morning, I went to a flower shop on the corner, purchased a gorgeous arrangement and went to the cemetery. First, I stood before Mom and Dad’s head stone. Then, I stepped in front of Penny’s grave. The headstone had not arrived yet, it was a special order and was coming from overseas. Bending down, I placed the flowers on Penny’s grave. I stood back up and did what I had not done for a long time. I talked to Penny.
“Penny, you are the best sister anyone could ever have. I want to tell you how sorry I am for not being there for you when you needed me. I’m gonna make it up to you. What Harvey Goldman did to you was awful and I don’t know how, but I am going to make him pay for what he did. I’m going be gone for a while . . .” I laughed. “You’re used to hearing that aren’t you?” I said, starting to cry.
Tears streamed down my face. I said, “But I will be back soon. Tell Mom and Dad I love them. I don’t want you to be mad at me. I know you always told me never to rush into things, but I have no choice. I’m going to Vegas and when I finish what I’ve started, I will be back. Love you to the moon and back.”
***
I landed at McCarran International Airport, grabbed a cab, and got a room at the Monte Carlo on the Boulevard Strip. The one-year-old hotel was extravagant, luxurious and lavished with gorgeous cathedral ceilings, handcrafted woodwork, dozens and dozens of 12-foot chandeliers, a wave pool, a 400-foot Lazy River and retail stores for endless shopping. That was my first thing on my agenda, to go shopping. I purchased a full wardrobe of shoes, skirts, blouses and sunglasses.
I then visited the Lion’s Den adult bookstore, which provided me with erotic lingerie, bras, G-string panties, leather pants and boots. I also picked up some BDSM paraphernalia, including whips, floggers, paddles, collars, leashes, straps, handcuffs, blindfolds, leather ball gags and more.
I was ready for the next step—get a job as a call girl at The Cat Tails Lounge. After a few days, I learned that Harvey’s favorite girl was Janine Brady, whose real name was Chin Young Tu. She was only 24 and, just like me, she was a college dropout. Her parents moved to the US from China when she was 12. (I was amazed what a low-cut, see-through blouse, short skirt, stilettos and a $100 bill can get you from a brothel security guard).
Janine had no clients that night, so I followed her from the New York Hotel and Casino to the Coyote Ugly, a southern-style bar and dance saloon featuring hot, sexy and sassy female bartenders that climb onto the bar each night to perform choreographed dance numbers. Joining Janine at the bar for drinks, I quickly learned that this was where she used to bartend before working at the Cat Tails Lounge.
After downing a few shots of vodka, a convincing sob story, and a desperate plea for help, Janine offered to allow me to crash at her place for a few days until I could find a place. Of course, I kept my room at the Monte Carlo with all my fetish apparel and apparatus. I only stayed with Janine as part of my undercover scheme to weasel my way into the Cat Tails Lounge and she was my ticket.
Her apartment was a studio with a bonus room, decorated like a Pier 1 Imports furniture store. The large open room was furnished with a white classic Chesterfield Colette loveseat that had raised rolled arms, an arched back and deep button tufting. Against the far wall was a Quatrefoil floor screen and matching Papasan wicker chairs. There were Mosaic wall panels on the walls and an authentic Chinese porcelain Tomoko teapot set perfectly positioned on a Quentin console table. The focal point of the room was a handcrafted, solid wood, Ashworth queen-size bed.
She showed me my room. It was a tiny, eight by ten chamber with a single bed, a tall and narrow white 5-drawer dresser, a nightstand and lamp. It was three in the morning, so after a quick trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I was off to bed.
***
I woke up
to a scream.
Was it a dream? I sat up in the dark, and for a split second, I thought of Penny.
Is Harvey here?
Is Janine being attacked?
My heart was pounding out of control. I closed my eyes tight, trying to catch my breath. I did not know whether to get up and check it out, to crawl under the bed and hide, or to scream for help. If someone was attacking Janine, what could I do? Could I live with myself if I did nothing? Was I next? Was this the end? If Harvey was out there, I needed something to defend myself. I started thinking what I had with me—a flat iron was the only thing I could think of as a weapon.
I slowly got out of bed and, in the dark, I eased my way to the dresser and to my bag, to retrieve the flat iron. As I was searching through my carry-on for the iron, I heard a slapping noise, and then Janine screaming in pain, “Stop!”
I jerked in sheer panic and knocked my bag to the floor.
THUD!
“Oh, shit.”
I bent down, sorted through my bag, moving my clothes. I felt my flat iron and gripped it tight. I took the electrical cord and wrapped it around the base to make it easier to handle.
I stretched forward to find the wall. With one hand I seized the iron, and with the other I held onto the wall, as I made my way to the door. I reached cautiously for the door handle, my hand tumbling as I did so.
Another whack resonated from the other room. I jumped and my heart pounded even more.
Just when fear tried to grip me, I closed my eyes and thought of Penny. I thought of all that we did together, I thought of how strong she was and I thought of my reasons for doing this. I regrouped, my anger kicked in and my adrenaline shifted. I was in this for revenge and that was what I was going to get.
You can do this, I repeated to myself.
2
The Experiment
I gripped the doorknob and slowly turned the handle until the assembly latch retracted from the strike plate. For a second, I debated whether to open the door slowly, or throw it open and go on the attack. I took a deep breath and gradually pulled the door towards me until I could see out.
The door hinge squeaked when I got it halfway open. I paused, hoping that the noise did not give my approach away. I peeked through the opening, but the kitchen cabinets blocked my view to the studio. Dressed only in an oversized white T-shirt that came down to my buttocks and black laced panties, I tiptoed across the tile floor. I could hear Janine grasping for air, along with a rhythmical thumping sound like someone being choked against it.
The kitchen was pitch-black and I could faintly see the remnants of light reflecting off the wall. One more step and he came into view.
There he was—but who was he? Was that even Harvey?
I realized I had no idea what Harvey looked like. Why I did not ask Alex for a photo, I did not know. Whoever he was, Janine seemed to know him quite well because she had straps around her ankles — secured to the canopy bedposts — and her legs which yanked behind her ears. A robust, burly man had one hand against the headboard and his other around her throat, as he was rocking back and forth, penetrating her with force.
In total shock, I closed my eyes and then it happened.
SMACK!
Janine screamed. I lifted my head only to watch him slap his hand against her buttocks again. After she bellowed out an erotic screech, he placed his hands on her calves and he lined up his penis to reenter her vagina. He vigorously and repeatedly thrust her as she moaned in euphoria.
She wasn’t being assaulted, she was having sex. I knew I could go back to bed, but for some strange reason I just stood there. Up until then, I had only had sex a dozen times with two men. It was not that I didn’t enjoy sex, but with all the drama in my life, I had withdrawn to avoid pain. Masturbating was so much easier—no commitments and no dating.
The view was perfect. I was in the dark and they were in open sight. Wondering what to do, I decided to watch a few minutes longer. It had been a long time since I had an orgasm. After months, drugged in a mental clinic and the emotional stress discovering Penny’s suicide was a murder, I had not taken any time for myself. Watching porn was one thing, but this was live sex and it was turning me on.
Debating whether I should continue with voyeurism or go to my room and pleasure myself, I remembered I left my vibrator at the hotel, so I remained a bit longer. Watching intently, I noticed he did not have any body hair. For a moment, I drifted off, speculating if he waxed, shaved or used a hair removal lotion.
At that moment, he stood up and his motion startled me. I leaned away to hide from detection, hoping he would not come to the kitchen. I ducked out of view just in case. Then, the sound of a cork exploding from a bottle resounded throughout the room. I leaned back to peek and saw him drinking from a champagne bottle as he walked towards the bed. I could see him in all his glory. His penis was long, swollen and his genital area clean shaven. Janine was still strapped to the bed in a cradle position, and I noticed that her hands were tied, stretching her arms wide from side-to-side.
He walked to one side of the bed, lowered the bottle six-inches from her face, and slowly poured white sparkling wine into her mouth. Then he took another big slurp, chugging more than half the bottle before letting out a large burp. Now, that’s a turn off, I thought.
“Excuse me,” he said with emphatic embarrassment.
“Whatcha gonna do with the rest of that?” Janine asked in a seductive tone.
“You want the rest?” he asked, as if it was a scripted act.
“You know where I want it, don’t you, baby?” Janine said, as she started rocking her hips up and down off the bed. The motion caught my eye. Janine’s vagina lips were clean shaven. It made me think about my small one-by-one inch publc hair patch above my clit, and thought, maybe I should shave mine too.
The temporary imagery of shaving my pussy in the massive tub at the Monte Carlo made me miss what he was doing, until I heard splashing sounds and regained my focus. Repositioning my attention upon their sexcapade, I looked just in time to watch him pour the remains of the bottle onto her crotch. Janine responded by tipping her head back and then shaking her jet-black hair from side-to-side in erotic pleasure. Her sensual and oriental appearance accelerated when she squinted her eyes with a sexy scowl—a familiar expression all porn actors use to entice and excite a man. I know from my limited experience that it works.
“Give it to me!” Janine screamed insistently.
What happened next both shocked and excited me. He placed the tip of the bottle against her vagina lips and twisted so gently to penetrate her. I watched the bottleneck enter her shaft and her lips wrap snug around the curved-shaped container. He pushed with force and nearly three-fourth of the champagne chamber thrust her wide open. Janine groaned with desire and said, “Give me more.”
How her tiny body could take it, I did not know.
Slowly, he pushed further, driving the vessel deep inside her inner wall. He readjusted his manly grip on the bottle and placed his foot upon the edge of the bed, blocking my view of full penetration. I moved to the right to get a better look, at which point I noticed that my panties were wet. I was dripping in excitement, soaked through.
I lifted my T-shirt and slid my hand down inside my panties until my middle finger arrived at my clit. I could feel the moist juice against my fingertips as I started to massage in circular motions. Watching him slide the bottle out halfway and then lunge it back inside Janine was thrilling, to say the least.
I slipped the tip of my finger inside myself, sliding it in and out with pleasure. My nipples erected in response and I could see their protrusion as I glanced down at my tits. Any moment I was going to explode, but after withholding my orgasms for this long, how was I going to remain quiet? The debate in my mind where to go to my room was pressing, but I did not want to lose the momentum and have to start over.
Any second, I thought.
My legs started to twitch as I tightened by buttocks, arching my back an
d prepared to enjoy. Flexing my stance, I leaned up on my tiptoes to position myself for climax. I lost my balance and when I went to brace myself with my other hand, the flat iron I was still holding dropped onto the kitchen countertop.
At the same time, mine and Janine’s eyes connected. Oh, shit, I thought to myself, I am so busted.
Embarrassed and bewildered as what to do now, I just stood there.
“Come and join us,” Janine replied nonchalantly.
With one hand down my panties and the other holding the flat iron, I responded by saying, “I’m sorry, I woke up and was getting a glass of water.”
“Don’t be shy, have some fun,” she insisted.
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude upon your customer,” I said.
“He’s not a client, he’s my boyfriend. . . Thomas, this is Kelly, she’s the girl I was telling you about.”
He was already looking at me, but oddly, he was still sliding the bottle in and out of Janine’s vagina, as if nothing had happened. “Nice to meet you,” he said.
I let go of the flat iron, pulled my hand out of my underwear and awkwardly replied, “Nice to meet you.” What else was I supposed to say?
“It’s okay, Thomas doesn’t bite,” Janine replied.
“Yes, I do,” he said jokingly.
Without thinking, I said, “Yes, but I’m not a. . .”
“A lesbian?” Janine said, finishing my sentence.
Simultaneously, Janine and I replied, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” We both laughed when we realized that we said the same thing in perfect sync. The humor broke the ice for me to join them. Then, I realized that this was a perfect opportunity to show Janine my openness to sexuality. How else was I going to convince her to introduce me to her Madam?
“I’m willing to experiment,” I said as I walked into the studio to partake in my first ménage à trois. I knew I had to make this look as if I were a pro, so after taking two steps, without breaking stride, I removed my panties and then my T-shirt.
“My, God, girl, you’re beautiful,” Janine said.
The Plan Page 2
