by Sean Russell
Amanda watched the woman traipse away. That could easily have been me, she thought.
“Your wine, Sir. Compliments of the manager.” Bill looked up to see the owner of the voice. The gaze was casual at first, but then his attention was arrested. She was in the plain garb that was the café’s uniform: a white polo shirt and khaki slacks with a maroon apron. But in some way she managed to wear hers like she was going to be shot for ‘Manhattan’s sidewalk café’s a dining experience you’ll never want to miss’.
“Your dinner order will be ready very shortly. Is there anything else I can do for you sir?” Bill continued to stare, recognition seeping into his consciousness. His waitress was at an audition six months ago. She had caught his eye then. He had looked forward to seeing more of her, but she had vanished. He had even asked one of the producers what had happened to her and was told she had withdrawn because of personal issues. He could not believe it. There she was, standing right in front of him. He had to have her in his clothes. He couldn’t wait to see her in them.
“I am not in the habit of doing this. I pay people to do these kinds of things for me. However, in this case I am making an exception. My name is Bill Michaels and I would love for you model for me.” She beamed a radiant smile back at him, a smile full of confidence and a touch of mischief.
“I’m Amanda Callender. It would be my distinct pleasure to model for you.”
*****
Amanda did eventually model for Bill, which was why she was in the dressing room with tears in her eyes after a successful runway jaunt. It wasn’t always like this. Her first two shows bordered on disaster, and not without the assistance of some jealous parties, but Amanda quickly learnt how to play the game and who she could trust. She knew she would always have to watch her back, but she had mapped out a course in the minefield of the ultra-competitive world of fashion. Her thoughts sped to the evening ahead, largely because the chirp from her cell phone told her that she had a text. She knew it was from her man of interest, Xavier. He was outside waiting to take her to dinner.
Xavier was a great guy, but patience was not one of his better qualities. She knew he was in the town car waiting for her, anxious to keep their dinner reservation. Meanwhile, he would be on his Blackberry generating and answering a flurry of emails, such as it was, being an investment banker.
He had surprised her that night. As the town car pulled to a halt, Amanda was perplexed. They only dined at high-profile, five star restaurants, places that you booked well in advance or you had connections to get you in at short notice, with lavishly decorated, exquisite menus, and where one was sure to run into a celebrity or notable citizen of the land. As magnificent and opulent as it was, both Amanda and Xavier had begun to tire of the monotony of the experience. The car had brought them to the sidewalk on a street with several shops and restaurants, most of them subterranean in their locale, the signs proclaiming their presence were modest, clear and practical.
Amanda was exploring their destination with her eyes and looked over at Xavier. He smiled back at her.
He knew what she was thinking. They alighted from the vehicle and descended the steps of the restaurant they were in front of. It was dimly lit, but brightly decorated with coloured lights and beads and brass-and copper-coloured metal pots adorning the walls and tables. It had a subdued, festive effect. The scent of curry and several spices originating from the Indian subcontinent caressed Amanda’s nostrils. It was somewhat nostalgic, as it reminded her of her days as a little girl when Aunt Millie decided to make rotis for everyone. She suddenly felt happier than ever. She was so aware of where she was now and how far she had come.
“I thought you might like the change, but I didn’t know it would be such a hit. And you haven’t even had the food.” Xavier had witnessed Amanda’s transformation.
“I was surprised at first, but this is a fabulous place.” She was still beaming.
They were seated at a table at the far corner of the room where an indigenous Indian tapestry hung on the wall behind the table. They took their seats and bottled water was served while the waiter took their orders.
Amanda was so pleased. It was is if Xavier had read her mind and knew what she wanted… what she needed before she knew. The change of pace was perfect.
“Try the beef vindaloo. It’s spectacular.”
“Okay. I’ll trust you on that. What are you having?”
“Oh. I’m having curry chicken. We can share.”
“That’ll be fun.” Amanda smiled.
“Have you thought about that fund I was telling you about? I don’t want you to miss out.”
“Which one was that again?”
Amanda was toying with him, playing the dumb blonde. She knew exactly which fund he was talking about. She had done her own homework, but she didn’t want him to feel that she didn’t trust him and she didn’t want to let on how smart she really was.
Men’s egos seemed to inflate proportionately to the financial power they had over women, whether in their bank accounts or their knowledge of financial matters. The funny thing was, they were much more manageable when their egos were inflated. Xavier showed a little impatience as he spoke.
“The high interest account that I gave you the scoop on. You could make a killing on it.”
“Oh yes.” Amanda replied coyly. “The one that would make me rich.”
“I guess from your response that you haven’t.”
“I told you I would run it by my manager. He is also my financial consultant.” Xavier was now genuinely annoyed. “I told you under no circumstances to discuss it with anyone. It’s highly confidential and I could lose my licence over this.”
Amanda was her own manager and financial advisor. She had managed to glean information from knowledgeable people whenever she could, but she entrusted her financial future to herself. She had just wanted to see Xavier’s reaction.
“I didn’t really get around to it. I’ve really been too busy of late.” She delivered the last statement with the attitude only a top model could have. Xavier was relieved.
“Listen to me. I know you have the world at your feet right now, but things could change in an instant.
You could get sick or have an accident or just plain fall out of favour. You need to invest.” He seemed really genuine at this point, but Amanda couldn’t help but play with him a little more. She studied him for a moment. She wasn’t usually attracted to white men, but he was downright handsome—slimly built, just above average height. It was his face she was looking at now, his dark brown hair which he wore long and brushed back and his sparkling blue eyes, which were just a shade darker than pale blue. His eyes danced and smouldered with energy as he brought his secret weapon into action—
his smile—it was one of those contagious smiles that one could not help but return even if you wanted to hate him.
“Honestly Xav, you sound like you’re selling me insurance.” She smiled at him wickedly.
“Ooh, but I am. Solid investment insurance. With an insane return.”
His voice and his eyes were filled with earnest.
“You need to act now. You are missing the window of opportunity.”
“Well, if it’s a solid investment, why the rush?”
“It is solid, but with these things timing is crucial.
It can make a huge difference on your returns. You will always get returns, but wouldn’t you rather hook a huge marlin than a flying fish?”
Xavier laughed at this, it was a little dig at the small island that Amanda called her home. The flying fish was indeed one of the smallest fish anyone would choose to eat, and it was also part of the national dish of Amanda’s adopted home. Amanda was up to the game.
“As long as I don’t hook a shark; that might come back to bite me.” She smiled, but her eyes were hard.
“I can make you a lot of money, Amanda. Trust me.”
She continued to look at him as she chewed her food. The olfactory and lingual sensations combin
ed were far more pleasant than the auditory stimulation she was deciphering. She craved the pleasure and decided to abbreviate the conversation.
“Xav, I will give you the opportunity to make me some money. I will give you $100,000.00 to invest for me. We’ll see what you can do with that. What was the time frame you were boasting about?” Xavier was too excited to let her ponder.
“Eighteen to twenty-four months.”
Amanda raised a eyebrow. Xavier was ecstatic.
He raised his glass of wine and waited as Amanda responded.
“To wealth, happiness and wonderful meals with very special people.”
The glasses clinked and Amanda took another sip of wine. She got what she wanted. She was back over to pleasure zone. She allowed the sense of well-being to envelop her like an ether coursing through her veins, taking her to the heavens where she wanted to be; where she deserved to be. After all, she was a top model.
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Amanda stepped onto the tarmac and took in the hot, humid climate. There were several other aircraft parked on the tarmac, some having already shed their contents and others emptying theirs of hundreds biped mammals making a trail from their gravity-defying machines to a location where there was another great invention, the arrival lounge, a place where the masses gathered and escaped the heat and stood in cool defiance of the elements as they awaited approval for entry into the island for business, pleasure or whatever else. She was home, and not a moment too soon. Somehow this island, a veritable dot on the map, managed to be her saviour yet again. This time she was escaping the land of milk and honey. The milk had gone sour. She had kept her word and given Xavier the chance he so eagerly asked for. Four months later, he was arrested for running a Ponzi scheme. He had promised her early returns in six months. She ended up with nothing.
Truth be told, it was less than nothing. She ended up with legal fees and a hiatus in her modeling career.
She was implicated in the scam, as she was a close associate and she was living with him. More like he was living with her; he had moved in. His explanation at the time made a lot of sense. She didn’t mind, he was a real handyman. Handy enough in the kitchen and very handy in the bedroom. What more could a girl ask for? She didn’t need money and he did pull his weight.
Her legal team managed to convince the ‘feds’
that she was an innocent bystander who herself was inveigled by this charming rogue. Her bank account supported the plea and the law enforcement agency grudgingly accepted her story, disappointed at losing the opportunity of bagging a big fish. In return, Amanda gave them her full cooperation. Not that it was any help, Xavier was so slick that Amanda had no useful information to give.
Amanda’s career had been tainted. Those in the know said the damage was not irreparable, but she needed to be out of the public’s eye for some time until some other unfortunate mortal fell from grace and was devoured by the insatiable mob that was the media and its close cousin, public opinion. So Amanda took a sabbatical and returned to her haven, the place where she experienced the regular undulations of life that average people had, and not the precipitous peaks and valleys she fell prey to whenever she was away from it, the kind that unlucky people and the immortals, the stars, were prone to experience.
It was funny, she thought, how the trajectory of her life when she was there reflected the landscape of the country; rolling hills with gentle slopes giving way to open valleys. Nothing harsh or dramatic to stir the soul with a scare. She needed the calm now, the absence of drama.
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jade was torn. She did not know what to think.
She had wanted to see Phil and talk to him face to face, but she was advised not to. She was told it was too dangerous. She was also told it could complicate the case that the Crown was holding against Phil. She was told this by a very enthusiastic Detective Seale. He was also good enough to coach her for the upcoming trial. Jade was not sure if this was the norm, but he was a genuine policeman. She was quite convinced of the veracity of the case.
Then she had a visit from another detective, Detective Clarke. She did not know why, but something about the man made her want to pet him. He sat with her and asked her pointed questions and insisted on her being very detailed. He noted everything in a little brown notebook. Jade felt he acted like a real detective.
The other guy Seale seemed to be more of a public relations officer. Though he did not say, the tone of his questions led Jade to believe that Detective Clarke was not buying Phil’s guilt. Some of the questions he raised were concerns that Jade had. How did he get access to her car? And the emergency call… she did not remember such a call. Detective Seale assured her that she did call. He took the call. She may have had patchy amnesia as a result of her head injury. Did Phil ever resort to violence to resolve any conflicts? Did he even threaten violence? Was he handy with tools and mechanic work? Was he in the habit of having affairs?
Was he a jealous man? Did she think he still loved her? Did she still love him? The uncertainty tore her apart.
Then there was the issue of a wife not having to testify against her husband. Suppose he was innocent and she willingly aided and abetted him being put away? She would never be able to forgive herself despite the affair he had. She’d had one too.
She wasn’t sure now if he wasn’t set up like she was.
She had to decide soon. His trial was imminent.
*****
Mobert Clarke was in his element. He had a case to solve and somehow he was getting no cooperation from his superior. That was largely because Pastor Seale had his ear. The ambitious detective gained the chief’s favour by being his informant, so to speak.
Seale kept the chief abreast of all the happenings in the department. Clarke’s brusque manner did not endear him to anyone anyway. Mobert savoured a challenge and thrived in adversity, and he hated dirty cops. How was it that an upstanding citizen like Phil Ferguson could be charged for attempted murder and be placed on trial in record time, and with so much unsubstantiated evidence? He had no access to the car after the fallout with his wife. He had no history of violence and there was no clear motive. The whole thing was absurd. The scary thing was that Phil was headed to prison in a hurry. Mobert had to find out who was behind this and find a way to stop them.
Phil Ferguson going to prison would be a travesty of justice. Mobert thought he had an ally in Judge Thompson. It was he who had called the evening Phil was arrested and insisted that he be released on his recognizance. He’d vouched for Phil personally.
Mobert decided to approach the judge with his suspicions. Initially, the judge had agreed to meet with him and then he canceled and started to be evasive.
That was not in character for Judge Thompson. The detective did pin him down in the end and the judge insisted that he was privy to information that proved Phil’s guilt and he was not prepared to discuss the matter any further.
The whole scenario made Mobert Clarke even more determined to prove Phil’s innocence. He had an idea of the reason for the judge’s change of heart. The detective, because of his line of work and particularly because of his sharp mind, was aware of the details of many prominent people that the common man was not. The judge liked to gamble. Detective Clarke was sure the judge was indebted to someone, very likely the same person who chose to be Detective Seale’s protective godfather.
It was time for Mobert Clarke to be a snoop. His best lead was Seale. He was going to keep Seale under surveillance. The man was so ambitious and arrogant that Mobert was sure he would soon learn the identity of the person who was yanking the chains of the justice system to serve his own purpose.
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Amanda felt cheated. Jimmy Cadogan had outsmarted her. She realized now that he had used her to get to Phil. She did not know the details, but she knew now that she was a pawn used by Jimmy Cadogan. She had been so pleased with herself after
negotiating an absolutely fantastic lease for her condo.
Jimmy had asked her to meet Phil and talk to him. He had convinced her that Phil was a rival of his who was destroying his business by unscrupulous means, and he wanted an opportunity to level the playing field by having any information which he could use to do that. Amanda was a survivor and was aware of the many games you had to play in life if you wanted to get ahead on the fast track.
The condo was phenomenal, and priming Phil for information was a small price and an easy score. When she met him things got twisted. He was genuinely a nice man and did not fit the character Jimmy provided her. She had to admit that she tripped. That evening she slept with Phil was real. She had felt him then.
She regretted her actions afterwards, except for the pleasurable memories she had. If she thought about it enough, it still made her wet.
He never called her after that evening. She tried calling, texting, even email, but got no response. She was hurt. Not because she took it personally, but because she missed him and the magic they had. She had not experienced it before nor since. She had a sense of the man and she knew he was committed to his wife and hence had no room for her. She kept herself busy with her business affairs and socialized not only to network, but to keep herself occupied.
She had no shortage of options to date, but they all seemed dull after her time with Phil.
Then there was Jimmy Cadogan, who was present and as welcome as the gum that sticks to the sole of your shoe. She made it clear to Jimmy that she had no interest in him apart from business. None. His skin was as thick as that of an old rhinoceros and like gum on a shoe, he stuck to his objective. Amanda was sure he would stop at nothing to sleep with her.
