Separating Riches

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “Chris has probably changed into it by now,” George said, answering half of my questions.

  “Why? What does it matter what I wear? It’s not a real ball.”

  “I think that Chris was feeling nostalgic. She felt that you should wear your dress, as befitting an Academy Award winning actress.”

  “George, that was a hundred years ago. No one cares about that anymore,” I said, trying to understand why the girls keep making a fuss over a small gold statue, and not even a Best Actress Award.

  “Norma, the girls and I care about it. It’s part of what made you who you are.”

  “It’s also part of what broke me,” I retorted without thinking.

  “And someday you’ll trust me enough to tell me about that. But I think for right now, I should probably go back to my room and finish dressing before the rumors start flying.”

  Laughing, I said, “I wouldn’t mind them, but it wouldn’t help your reputation any.”

  “Yes, especially if I ever want to catch Mr. Right,” he laughed, and left the room.

  Slipping the gown on over my head, I walked to the mirror and looked at myself. It was only a half-mirror but I just needed to make sure that my skin wasn’t showing where it shouldn’t be. The seamstress did a good job with the gown. It fit perfectly, and surprisingly, lifted my wrinkles into curves in the proper places. Even my sagging breasts looked forty years younger, because the gown’s lining lifted and molded them in place. Walking over to the bed to put my shoes on, I noticed my jewelry lying on top of a note. It was the jewelry I had loaned Chris just a few hours ago. I moved the jewels aside and picked up the note.

  Norma, please forgive me, but only you should wear this beautiful gown. I can’t wait to see you in it.

  Love, Chris

  P.S. Melinda says she loves you too.

  My girls. How blessed I am.

  I Love Her, But… — Robert and Melinda

  Melinda has demanded that I answer her questions. Questions about the transaction between me and that photographer. I’ve already told her all I’m going to tell her. As my daughter, I love her of course, but I admit that right now, I don’t like her very much. A father’s love is unconditional, but in my world, where billions are made or lost in the blink of an eye, I can’t afford for Melinda to forget who she is, a Blackstone.

  Just a year ago, I could feel that she was tiring of her wild, crazy, teenage ways, and I was looking forward to the day she would embrace my ways. That of corporate lawyer and hard-nosed business man. Melinda has no idea what it takes to keep her in that extravagant Vegas condo, or in the latest million dollar sports cars, and I hoped to bring her into the fold and teach her, as my father-in-law taught me. It is time that her ceremonial title as an executive in my firm becomes a real one. But now that she’s found a partner, married and starting a domestic life, I fear she’ll lose any kind of edge she once had for money. She’s already stopped talking about herself in the third person, which I’m not complaining about because it drove me insane, but she’s changing so fast that I may not be able to influence that change, as I have in the past.

  That’s why it went against my better judgment to allow her to take baby steps into the fold, but Elizabeth persuaded me to start Melinda with an easy position so she could learn the business. Elizabeth thought that if I put her in charge of too much too soon, I’d be setting her up for failure. I guess she has a point, although I didn’t fail when my father threw me into the fire. But then, my father wasn’t a Blackstone and only owned a small grocery store chain in Southern California. Even though I married into the Blackstone family, it was Elizabeth’s father who taught me the Blackstone way.

  Melinda is soft, undisciplined and weak. Her mother’s doing. This is the second time she has conned her into a compromising position that I will have to pay to get her out of. If she can’t even avoid simple blackmail ploys, how can she run my corporation? Perhaps Elizabeth is right. Melinda’s not ready for the Memphis firm, let alone the national corporation. But if she’s going to carry on when I’m gone, she’s got to start somewhere.

  “I told you, Melinda, I only dealt with the photographer. I don’t know about that other man you referred to.”

  “Why didn’t you find out who hired the photographer, Father?” she asked determinedly. “It’s not like you haven’t had a detective nose around in my business before.”

  I shook my head. “Frankly, it wasn’t worth my time or money. It was just a teenage prank at the time, one of many that you have been involved in, but I had hoped you’d learned your lesson. I realized I was wrong.”

  “And yet, you came tonight to help me find out who the man behind it is.”

  I paused for a moment to choose my words carefully. “Yes, now it’s worth my time, because I don’t want it to become habitual and end up in the society blogs.”

  “How very condescending of you, Father.”

  “You know, you were a lot nicer when you were drunk,” I said, purposefully condescending.

  Melinda was about to retort, as is her norm, but she spotted someone that apparently she knew.

  “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed, and took off running.

  Best Laid Plans — Melinda and Chris

  “Chris!” I called. “Chris!” I darted in and out of the people dancing and found Chris over by the Charlie Chaplin pod with her mother.

  “Hey, honey, why are you so out of breath?” Chris asked.

  “Chris, I need to speak with you alone, okay?” I said urgently.

  “You’re doing a lot of that tonight,” Felicia joked.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Chris, please, can I talk to you?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you later, Mom,” Chris said.

  I took her hand and led her back behind the curtain where catering prepared their dishes.

  “Honey, what is wrong? Why are you so agitated?” Chris asked.

  Getting as far away from the catering staff as I could, I finally stopped and turned to Chris. Still holding her hand, rubbing it with my thumb, I looked into her eyes, and said, “I did not know she was going to be here, Chris. I promise I didn’t.”

  “Who, honey? Who has you so worried— oh, shit. It’s her, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, I just saw Tori walk in the door,” I replied.

  “Why is she here? Did you invite her?” Chris snapped.

  “Hell, no!” I shouted, and the catering staff stopped what they were doing and looked at me. I turned my back to them and spoke in a calmer but exasperated voice. “After what I went through, losing you because of that bitch, why in the hell would I invite her to be anywhere near me?”

  “I’m sorry, Melinda. I just don’t understand how she even knew about our party.”

  “Maybe John told her and she invited herself. Either way, I’ll go get rid of her.”

  “No, wait,” Chris said, taking my arm to stop me. “Shouldn’t we wait until we know for sure that John is here?”

  “Are you sure? I couldn’t handle it if I knew you looked at her and saw me, you know,” I held up my hands as if I were cupping those breasts, “there again.”

  “I can’t deny that I won’t see them, honey, so you’ll just have to erase that memory again, like you did the first time.”

  “Baby, I love that you are so generous about this, but I hate that you have to be. I’m going to tell her to go.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s all part of their game. What we have to do is outsmart them. Obviously, Tori is here to stir up trouble, and I’m not going to let her hurt you again. Let’s act like it’s perfectly natural for her to be here, then use her to ferret out John and his blackmailing scheme.”

  “Are you sure, Chris?” I asked, unable to believe how lucky I was to have such a wonderful woman in my life.

  “Yes, I’m sure. It’s time we end this and show people that we’re not simpletons with money. No one has a right to use you like that and then ask for money. I found the note, Melinda, with the pictures.”

 
“Damn it! I knew I should have burned them when they arrived.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. We may need them if we have to go to court.”

  “Uh, Chris. Did you look at the photos?” I asked apprehensively.

  “I peeked at one but when I saw what it was, I put the envelope down and wiped my hands on my jeans. It was the note asking for a million dollars that I was interested in. This is the second time they’ve asked for money, but I get the feeling it’s not really the money they’re after.”

  I nodded. “You know I was thinking that, too. Meg said that the way they’re going about it was sloppy and ill conceived, almost as if the blackmail was an afterthought.”

  “Then why try it again?” Chris asked.

  “That’s what we need to find out. Are you ready to officially meet the boobs?’

  Chris laughed. “Well, that’s not exactly the way I would put it, but yes, let’s get this over with.”

  “All right then, let’s go,” I said, and took her hand.

  “Wait, kiss me first,” Chris said, closing her eyes in anticipation.

  I leaned in and touched my lips to hers, but the fake mustache distracted me and irritated my skin. I had never kissed a mustache before, and I wasn’t going to start now. I gently pulled the taped nylon synthetic hair from her upper lip and, sliding my hand behind her neck, I pulled her head toward me. Tilting my head to the left, I eagerly covered her soft lips with mine, and kissed her hard and hungrily enough to remind her that these lips are only for her.

  The Con is in Play — Meg, Melinda, and Chris

  The photographer from the first blackmailing scheme could be the key to getting the answers we need. I had Melinda hire him to take pictures tonight, but that wasn’t his main goal. I instructed him to engage people as he took their photos, to see if he heard the voice of the man who hired him over the phone. There weren’t that many people invited to attend, so he should be able to do this fairly quickly.

  Once we had John identified, Blackie would gain his trust, much the same way she did with Tori. The trick was to get him to admit his guilt without realizing it until it’s too late. Then Blackie can do whatever it is she wants to do about it. I think she should have him arrested, but she doesn’t want to mess with a trial and red tape. So we’ll have to wait and see what she does, which is something I’d prefer to know ahead of time.

  Oh, shit. Tori and another person just walked into the room. I knew it was Tori in spite of her mask, because of her pink hair. There’s not a lot of women walking around with pink hair. In fact, I had never seen one before I met Tori. Dressed as Mae West, with the big feathery hat and even bigger boobs pushed up to her chin, or so it seemed, she sauntered in and immediately grabbed a champagne glass from the tray of a passing waitress. I laughed when she realized it wasn’t real champagne. No getting drunk tonight for you, Ms. West.

  The person Tori escorted was an enigma. Every inch of their body was covered under an ape costume. They were dressed as King Kong from the 1933 movie of the same name. Obviously they didn’t want to be seen, so naturally that made me want to see them. Why the need to hide? Was it purely coincidental and I’m reading too much into it? They’re probably just one of Tori’s cronies along for the presumed free booze. No, my gut told me that there was more to this primate than met the eye.

  I noticed Chris and Blackie making their way over to Tori, and I moved to intercept them.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, grabbing Blackie’s arm.

  “We’re going to welcome Tori to the party,” Blackie stated.

  “Why would you let Tori anywhere near Chrissie?” I asked. “Are you purposely trying to hurt her?”

  “No, of course not, damn it,” she replied.

  “Meg, it was my idea,” Chrissie intervened. “I thought we should play her game to see where it led us.”

  Shaking my head, I asked, “How many cons are we running tonight? Look, too many cons at one time will inevitably trip over themselves and show our hand.”

  “Meg, you’re the expert, and I respect that,” Blackie said. “But Chris and I both want this to end tonight, and as quickly as possible.”

  “And if it blows up in your face?” I asked.

  They looked at each other, then back at me. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Blackie wisecracked.

  The Con is in Play — Melinda, Chris, Meg, Derrick and Tori

  How many cons are we playing? This could get very dramatic if, like Meg said, it blows up in our face. I could do without the drama, but there didn’t seem to be any other way to end the masquerade, as it were. So, against my better judgment, I introduced Chris to Tori.

  “Tori, I’m so glad you could make it,” I lied through my teeth.

  “You are?” she asked, confused.

  “But where are my manners?” Turning to Chris, I squeezed her hand, offering all my strength to infuse her. “This is my wife, Chris. Chris, this is the infamous Tori Wilson.”

  Chris held out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Tori. Melinda has told me so much about you.”

  Tori looked from Chris to me in disbelief. Even though she wore a mask, her eyes betrayed her. It was obvious that this was not the reaction she was expecting, nor the reception she was hoping for.

  “Well, ain’t that something,” she scoffed. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Duh, pink hair of course,” I sniped, and then regained control. “And who are you escorting tonight?”

  “King Kong,” Tori replied.

  “Yes, I can see that,” I said.

  Derrick made his way over and held up his camera. “May I take a picture?”

  Now if only King Kong would speak, we’d know for sure if it was John or not.

  “Oh, I’d like that,” Chris said. “King Kong, why don’t you stand by me?” She strategically pulled me in-between her and Tori, with King Kong on her left. “Hi, my name is Chris. May I know your name?”

  King Kong shook his head and put his furry paw to his mouth. He wasn’t going to make it easy on us. Derrick took several pictures, also trying to get the ape to talk, but nothing worked. I was about to punch him in the face when Meg nodded for me to join her. I told Tori that I would be right back, and then grabbed Chris’ hand, and pulled her with me. I wasn’t about to leave her with those two.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  Meg nodded toward the restrooms. “If he won’t talk, then ply him with liquid and wait to see what bathroom he uses. If he uses the ladies room, then we know for sure it’s not John.”

  “That’s a good idea, Meg. I’ll ask the waiter to make sure his glass is always full,” I said, flagging over a waiter. I instructed him to make sure that King Kong was never thirsty. I slipped him a twenty to insure that he understood. He smiled and hurried over to the gorilla.

  Meg looked at me, a smirk on her face. “In the meantime, Melinda, why don’t you dance with the ape, and see if you can get him to reveal himself.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” I said, shaking my head. “Why don’t you use your ninja detective skills on him, while I find out why Tori is here with him, instead of his wife, Teresa? She’s the person we asked to bring John.”

  “And I’ve got an even better idea than that,” Chris asserted. “I’ll dance with Tori. It will catch her completely off-guard, and maybe she’ll slip up.”

  “Oh, hell no!” I roared. “I don’t want you anywhere near her, not alone.”

  “I won’t be alone if you’re dancing with John, I mean, the gorilla. Besides, Meg will be close by in case Tori gets too familiar with me.”

  “I think it’s a good idea, Chrissie,” Meg agreed. “I’ll dance with my wife and be right beside you.”

  “And if she tries to slip you a roofie?” I asked, irrationally terrified that might happen.

  “Then I’ll pay her for it,” Chris laughed. “If I can reach her with the pretense that I approved of what she did to you, she will trust me. It’s a disgusting thought, but
I realized that you’re probably not the only one she’s drugged before. She needs to be stopped, and we have an opportunity to call her on it.”

  “I don’t like it,” I declared, shaking my head. “But I can’t stop you, if that’s what you really want to do.”

  “I’d be upset if you did like it, honey,” Chris assured me. “Trust me, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

  “Okay, baby. Just keep her hands in sight at all times,” I said, knowing that I would also be doing that.

  Chapter Twenty

  May I have this Dance? — Chris, Melinda, Meg, Frankie, Tori and King Kong

  I couldn’t let Melinda know how nauseous I was at the thought of dancing with that woman. I could really use a drink right now. I shook that thought out of my head and walked over to Tori by the bar.

  “What the hell kind of party is this where they don’t serve liquor?” Tori growled. “Who’s the idiot who made that decision?”

  “That would be me,” I said with a smile. “I have too much of a fondness for the stuff and it gets me in trouble.”

  “Yeah, well, drink long enough and you won’t care,” Tori replied, pulling out a tiny flask from the folds of her breasts. The same breasts my wife had lain between. She drained the contents in one swallow. “Ahh, that feels better.”

  I watched her face as the liquid poured down her throat. I knew that look of satisfaction. “Um, would you care to dance?”

  She looked at me like I had slapped her. Then she laughed boisterously. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” I asked playfully.

  “Because of what your wife and I were doing in the pool room,” she stated, obviously proud of it.

  Bitch! I envisioned myself scratching her eyes out. “Yes, I was there, remember? Melinda explained it all to me.”

  “Really? You’re certainly calm about it,” she said in surprise. “When you saw us having a little fun, and ran out like that, I was sure you’d never speak to Blackie again.”