“What the hell, Blackie?” I said, as I pushed another glass of whisky toward Tori.
“No, seriously,” Blackie said. “If you use just a tiny amount of the stuff, it enhances the sex like crazy. Give too much of it, and you end up like one of Cosby’s victims. That’s sort of what happened with us, Tori. And the funny part is that you didn’t need to use it at all. I was ready to come the moment I saw you in here the other day.”
“You… you were? Gosh, I wish I had known. I’m sorry, Blackie.”
I could not believe it. Blackie had Tori eating out of her hand even as she accused her of using the drug on her. Amazing.
“If you’d like to make it up to me, you could tell me who your supplier is. I’d like to get some for myself,” Blackie said, pulling her glass down under the table. She must be pouring it out on the floor… no, make that pouring it on my foot. I looked at her and she smiled. Did she do that on purpose?
“Oh, I don’t know, Blackie. I might get in trouble,” Tori countered.
“Don’t worry, I can pay twice what it’s worth,” Blackie assured her. “Your supplier will thank you for bringing me to him.”
“He’s not my supplier, he’s my boyfriend,” Tori explained, and then took another sip of Scotch.
“Boyfriend?” Blackie questioned. “But I thought you were gay? Man, I’m going to need another drink after this disappointment.”
Blackie sat her empty glass down and picked up a full one. Her acting was amazing and if she wasn’t such a rich bitch, as she likes to call herself, I’d consider offering her a job at my detective agency. But then again, she’d just buy me out and fire my ass, so maybe I’ll rethink that.
“Don’t be silly, Blackie. You knew I dated him back in college,” Tori said, her words beginning to slur.
“Uh, that was me, remember, sweetie?” Blackie asked.
Tori shook her head. “No, sugar. That was John Mooney.”
“The fuck you say!” Blackie exclaimed.
What Do We Do Now? — Melinda, Meg and Chris
The ride home from the pizzeria was a quiet one. I was so furious that I was afraid to speak. What a fool I had been. I came all this way to help that bastard only to learn that he was the one putting Tori up to it. How could I not have seen that? I had been intimate with Tori quite a lot during college and she never once mentioned a boyfriend. Of course, she was drunk or high all that time, but I believed her when she said I was her main squeeze. I knew that we weren’t exclusive, but I never would have guessed that she dated men, too. What a sucker I’d been. An idiot. A fool.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Blackie,” Meg said, interrupting my self-loathing.
“No good deed goes unpunished,” I snapped.
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be married to Chris right now,” Meg replied.
“Now is not the time for your positive logic, Meg. It makes me want to punch you in the face.”
Meg laughed. “Yeah, I should have known better.”
Meg needed to pick her wife up at the airport, so she dropped me off at the house. Before I got out of the car, I invited her to bring Frankie over for a late night supper. She said she would suggest it to Frankie, but that she hadn’t seen her in a few days, so she might be otherwise busy. I had to laugh at the similarities, because I hadn’t seen Chris in a few hours, and as soon as I walked in the door, I fully intend to be busy.
And, in fact, I was busy. It just wasn’t the kind of busy I had in mind. Chris wanted to know everything, so I belayed my desires for a while and told her the whole story. Leading her up the stairs and to our bedroom, I explained what we did, assured her that I was never left alone with Tori, and told her who we learned was the mysterious man in Tori’s life.
“Oh, wow. John Mooney is Tori’s mystery man?” Chris asked, even though I had just told her that we thought he was. She couldn’t believe it either.
“Yes,” I replied, as I close the bedroom door and walked over to our bed. “The man whose wife we assured that we would help, is also the man has been setting me up.”
“But why? Why is he doing this to you, Melinda? What does he gain from it?” Chris questioned.
“Well, remember I told you that he hacked into my father’s radio station playlist? I think he blames me for my father having him kicked out of school.”
“That could be,” she reasoned, as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Your father is too high up on the totem pole to be reached, so he goes after you instead.”
“Very possibly true,” I agreed, unzipping my jeans. “And it probably pissed him off even more when Derrick, the photographer he used to take those pictures the first time, ended up with my Lamborghini and a job at one of my father’s newspapers.”
“Oh, yeah, John has a big ol’ chip on his shoulders,” she replied, as she pulled off her shoes.
“The question is, what do I do about it?” I asked, as I pulled back the covers on the bed.
“That is a good question,” she said, climbing into bed.
The answer to that question would have to wait, because one touch of my wife’s skin, and I forgot everything else.
Tonight at the Round Table — Melinda, Chris, Meg & Frankie, Norma and George
Oops. I had forgotten to tell Konani about having company over for a late supper, and she had already retired for the evening. So I asked Charlotte to call and have food delivered. I had no preference as to who she called or what she ordered and was impressed when I walked into the dining room and found a smorgasbord of meats, casseroles, cheeses, fruits, hot and cold hors d'oeuvres, and assorted drinks like tea, beer and sodas, on the buffet table. She must have pulled from several different restaurants in the area. I knew Charlotte would be insulted if I tipped her, but maybe I could give her a gift of some kind instead. I’ll ask Chris what she thinks about that. Maybe she’ll have some ideas.
Chris walked into the dining room and looked at the spread. “Wow, this is great,” she said, as she walked around the round table, snatching a grape from the fruit bowl.
“Yeah, Charlotte pulled my ass out of the fire again. Surely Meg can’t find fault with this,” I said proudly.
“Now, honey…” Chris looked at me and then laughed. “No, never mind. You’re right, she can’t find fault with this.”
George came in and immediately helped himself to a hors d'oeuvre. Norma came in next, looking regal in her tunic-length jacket and slacks. Norma always dressed for dinner, while I usually wore a T-shirt and torn jeans.
Charlotte walked in and announced that Meg and Frankie had arrived, and then she stepped to the side and showed them in.
“I see you were able to take care of your business,” I teased.
Meg looked me up and down, and leaned in close. “I see you did also.”
Laughing, I nodded proudly. We all sat down to eat and of course, the conversation was all about that bastard, John Mooney.
“Oh, try one of these,” Chris suggested, passing the hors d'oeuvres over to Norma.
“Thank you, dear,” Norma said. “So, you two discovered that Tori’s boyfriend is John, the man you came to help, Melinda.”
“Yeah, bizarre, isn’t it?” I interjected.
“I’m actually wondering if that wasn’t a ploy just to get you here,” Meg elaborated, as she speared a piece of meat with her fork.
“How so, Meg?” Chris asked, passing the meat plate over to Frankie.
Meg put her fork down and looked up from her plate. “I’ve been trying to figure out how John even knew you were in the city. He either overheard his wife on the phone with you, or put his wife up to calling you in the first place.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” George said. “Could you please pass the casserole, and Meg, could you elaborate on your presumption?”
“Here you go.” I passed the chicken parmesan casserole to Chris, who passed it on to George.
“If John put Teresa up to calling you, Blackie, then he would know that you were comin
g here,” Meg said. “And if he had Teresa meet with you, Chris, then he would know where and when you two would meet. He may very well have been at the pizzeria when you met with her.”
“Ew, that’s so creepy,” Chris said. “Melinda, did you see him there?”
“No, but then I remember a young, pimply faced kid from college. He probably looks a lot different now.”
“I’m glad you insisted on coming with me,” Chris said, squeezing my hand.
Smiling, I said, “Me too, baby. My question is, what should I do about John? I mean, like you said, Norma, we were here to help him, and we don’t know for sure why he’s doing this. Personally, I’m for telling him where to stick it, but, Chris, I’ll let you make that call.”
“Oh gee, thanks, honey. Very thoughtful of you,” she teased. “I vote we have a talk with the Mooneys and find out why he’s so fixated on you, and then you can tell him where to stick it.”
“Good plan,” Meg said.
“Yeah, I like it too,” I agreed.
“Might I offer a suggestion?” Norma asked, looking around the table.
“Of course, Norma,” Chris said.
“Invite them here for dinner under the pretense of reconciliation. Just as we played a part in interviewing Charlotte, we could do the same with them.”
“That’s a nice thought, Norma,” Meg said. “But John isn’t going to want to come out in the open like that.”
“He would if the stakes were high enough, and he felt safe,” Norma replied. “I was thinking of a masquerade ball, where everyone’s face is covered. And the guest list would be very short, just the ones at this table, the Mooneys and maybe your parents, Melinda, as a way to entice him to come to the ball.”
“Damn, Norma, you can be a devious bitch – no, uh, I meant,” I stuttered through my embarrassment. “I really did mean that as a compliment, Norma.”
“And I took it as one,” she replied. “Thank you, Melinda.”
“How long would it take to put something like that together?” Frankie asked.
“Chris, your mother could help with it, couldn’t she?” Meg inquired. “That would speed things along some.”
“It would have to be a rushed affair, dear,” Norma warned. “Unless we want to stay here for a few months more.”
A chorus of no’s went up in the air. It wasn’t that we weren’t enjoying the city by the bay, but it wasn’t home. And as the saying goes, there’s no place like home.
“Um, Norma, dear,” Chris teased. “Here’s a funny coincidence. We actually already have a masquerade ball planned for the week after next… um…” Chris looked over at me, and I nodded. She looked back at Norma, smiling sweetly. “It was to have been a surprise for you, Norma.”
“Surprise,” I said lamely.
“What on earth?” Norma asked, the shock evident in her eyes.
“Mom’s been working on it since we decided to come to San Francisco,” Chris explained. “We, um, told you she was working on the scholarship fundraiser, which she still is. We just didn’t tell you that the masquerade ball was for you… and that, um…”
“And that we were going to have it in Hollywood!” I exclaimed, knowing full well that Norma didn’t want to go back to Hollywood. We all knew that, but Chris and her mother planned the party anyway. And now we got caught in our own little devious plot to get Norma back in Tinsel Town.
Norma became quiet for a moment, and then she finally looked at us and smiled. “Oh, my. Well it’s too bad. But this thing with Melinda being drugged and blackmailed is much more important, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I’m sure we could—” Chris kicked me under the table.
“Yes, Norma,” Chris said, as I rubbed my leg. “It is more important and I’m sorry, but we’ll need to cancel the ball in Hollywood.”
“It’s for the best, dear,” Norma stated.
“Okay, so what are we doing?” I asked, still confused by the kick under the table.
“We’ll have a fake ball here, to bring John out of hiding,” Chris said. “But, Norma, I think we’ll need more people at the ball for it to look authentic, don’t you?”
“You’re probably right, Chris, but where would you get stand-ins for something like this?”
“Hey, why not ask the theater class at Berkeley?” I asked. “I had a semester of theater just for kicks, and it was a lot of fun. Tell the students that we need them to play a part to, uh, I don’t know, work out blocking or a script or something theatrical like that.”
“That’s a great idea, Blackie,” George said. “What kid wouldn’t want to dress up and play make believe?”
“Exactly, George. Toss in free costumes and food, and they’ll agree to help in a heartbeat.”
“Oh, that brings up another question,” Chris said. “Mother was working on a ‘come as your favorite actor or actress’ theme. We could still do that, couldn’t we?”
“What a fun idea she had,” Norma said.
“Well, I was going to dress as you, Norma,” Chris said, smiling, “from your Oscar winning movie, Mr. Washburne Takes a Wife.”
Norma smiled. “Are you referring to the scene where I was wearing the skin tight, rose sequin dress, with that scandalous deep front slit that went almost to my navel, and had another slit running up my leg, exposing my thigh?”
“Yes, that’s the one,” Chris said. “My mother is having it made for me because we couldn’t find a replica. And although it was probably scandalous in the sixties, no one will give it a second look now. Especially with me wearing it.”
Just the thought of Chris in that dress had me panting and drooling like Pavlov's dog.
“Down, girl,” Chris joked, and patted my thigh. I let out a howl, and panted harder.
“Oh, I would love for you to wear that dress, Chris,” Norma exclaimed. “That is if Melinda can keep from howling like a wolf again, when she sees you in it.”
“No promises, Norma,” I joked.
We sat at the table, eating, talking, and brainstorming, and finally had a plan in hand. Meg and Frankie would fly home and come back in two weeks. That was Meg’s idea, not mine, so I called my pilot and asked him to fly them and Kate back to Memphis tomorrow afternoon. Chris called her mother and they arranged for Felicia to fly out here to work on the ball. My job was to check with the theater class to see if they’d be willing to playact for us, to find a venue to host the party and to arrange rentals with a costume shop. Never one to do the actual leg work, I plan to have Kate help me with my to-do list before she leaves in the morning. Chris’ job will be to call Teresa and convince her to come and bring John with her. She’ll explain that my father will be there and has had a change of heart about John. That should bring the roach out of the dark.
As Chris and I undressed and got ready for bed, I asked her why she kicked me under the table.
“Oh! I almost forgot about that,” she said, laughing. “I have an idea that I wanted to talk to you about, and I thought you were about to inadvertently mess it up.”
“Uh, okay,” I said. “But it had better be a good idea, because I can barely walk now.”
“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed. “Here, let me massage your leg and make it up to you.”
Score! Not only did I get a relaxing, sensual, arousing massage out of the deal, but Chris had a really good idea for the party that was going to be too much fun to implement.
Chapter Sixteen
Behind Door #1 - A New Car! — Chris, Melinda and Emily Morton
I spoke with Teresa this morning, and she seemed excited about attending the masquerade ball. Her behavior was odd though. After I invited her and John to the party, she did a complete three-sixty toward Melinda. Her attitude changed from belligerence to benevolence and apparently all is forgiven. At least with her. But she’s not the one we’re after.
When I heard that Emily had so far to commute to college, and that most of her money went for taxi rides, I knew we had to get her a car. But I wasn’t sure that it
should be as part of the scholarship award. There were strict rules about students soliciting gifts, and about representatives of the program offering gifts as an incentive to attend a certain college or that type of thing. But nowhere in the rules or fine print did it state that I couldn’t personally buy a car for a student if I wanted to. Melinda, who grew up sitting on the lap of a lawyer, her father, advised me to check with our lawyer first, just to be on the safe side. It was good advice because our lawyer stipulated that we not use the gift as a marketing tool for our promotions of the scholarship. I hadn’t given it much thought, though I see now how it would have been a marketer’s dream advertisement.
So, today, after I talked with Teresa, we finished working on the rest of our to do list for the party and waved goodbye from our front porch to Meg, Frankie and Kate, as they left for the airport, and their flight to Memphis. Now Melinda and I were sitting in the tiny office of a car dealership, about to purchase a Mini Cooper S Coupe for Emily. Melinda thought Emily would look really cute in one. I drew the line at the color though. Having talked with the shy college student, I knew she would not want to drive around in a black car with red flames over the back tires, which is what Melinda had picked out. But we both agreed it should be a convertible. They are such cute cars.
Since Melinda had purchased cars before, and I hadn’t, I let her do the bartering. That was a mistake.
“Do you know who I am?” Melinda asked, leaning toward the salesman.
“Yes, he knows, Melinda,” I answered for him. I bumped her shoulder playfully, and she looked at me, then leaned back in her seat.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said to the salesman.
I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” I knew that apologizing to people was not her strong suit.
Melinda smiled and poked me in the ribs.
“No, I’m the one who should apologize, Mrs. Blackstone-Livingston,” the salesman groveled. “I will be happy to factor in the gas and warranty for you. I believe you wanted a four-year coverage, is that correct?”
Separating Riches Page 19
