At Raza? I ask, wondering if Anjelica’s there, with or without Grandpa Swanson. She might have convinced him to pop in after the show, even though I can’t picture Chuck in a place like that. Even the thought of it makes me want to laugh.
Side job.
It’s a non-starter, really. I think about what to type.
Were you sleeping?
No, I lie.
Do you want me to let you go and talk later?
No. At least that one was the truth.
If I were there, I’d kiss you.
What is this, middle school? I go along though. Not sure if it’s the wine or just the whole weird situation.
I’d like that.
Are you going to go to Raza on Saturday? I’d love to see you. I promise a real date on Sunday.
I wasn’t planning on it, so time for another lie. I’ll be there.
I can’t wait, Suzanne.
I am just about to fade off again when there is a knock on the door. I shuffle over there, realizing I am still fully dressed, and look out the peep hole.
“Suzanne Claremont?” The voice comes as he must have noticed the light being blocked.
“Yeah.”
“Delivery.” Hell, it’s…I look at the clock. After Midnight. The thought of work in the morning disgusts me as I unbolt the door.
“Avery asked me to bring these by.” The guy says, handing me a bouquet of white lilies. I stand there stunned, finally taking them from his hand.
“Do I need to sign for anything?” I ask, still shocked.
“No, this is just a personal favor.” The guy says.
“Thank him for me.” I say. I don’t really know what else to say.
He turns to leave and I start closing the door, but I see him turn and I open it a little wider.
“Hey.” He says. “Avery’s a really good guy and it sounds like he really likes you. Thought I’d tell you that, but don’t tell him I said it. He’d probably smoke my ass.”
I nod, dumbfounded, the soft scent of the lilies wafting up from where they’re unconsciously clutched to my chest.
Chapter Thirteen: Avery
The couch is calling to me and it’s at times like this that I wish I had a television. Really, though, it would just encourage me to watch it more, and life’s too short for mindless entertainment, right? That’s what I keep telling myself, at least. The phone on the table keeps drawing my attention. Call her. Wait to call her. Conflicting emotions rattle my brain but I’m getting closer and closer to relenting to the former. Suzanne Claremont is on my mind as usual. The curve of her hips, the beautiful slope of her breasts, all that gorgeous hair spilling down around the face I want to wake up to for the rest of my life. Just sitting with her in her office had been a boon for me, adding more details to the growing clarity of her image in my mind’s eye. Call her.
Wait to call her.
I get a text message, but it’s just Devin. I let it slide, for now. He’ll call me back if it’s an emergency. That’s our system. One call or text can be ignored, two calls or texts in a five-minute span means get on it right away. I’ve still got a rack of guns and cash in my safe room; my own split of the money already safely deposited into my private account. Call her.
It’s not my heart that’s stopping me. Lord knows I want to speak to her but I’m sure that I’ll freeze up like I did this morning. I had barely managed to blurt out an invitation to dinner and she seemed dubious about it at that. An early call might help. I can’t get a movie scene out of my head with some hipsters arguing over how long they wait to call a girl after they’ve been given her number. Fuck that.
Finally, after enough time has passed that I’m not worried about another call from Devin, I pick up the phone, turning the flat rectangle over again and again in my hands. I plug in my passcode and pull up her contact. Suzanne Claremont. I had been tempted to put in The Goddess, but I felt that would be embarrassing if she ever saw it. I don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone else. That last thought stays my hand for a moment. Is that true? Effectively, yes. I don’t have much to speak of by way of family, not that I speak to anyway, and my friends are mostly just acquaintances. Devin? Sure, a friend, an old buddy, but more of a business relationship these days.
Well, I think, if you’re only going to care about one person, care about her and call her. It’s hard to trust my own words though; writing provides the chance to think about it and make sure it sounds the way I want.
I pull up her contact again, this time tapping the button for SMS. It’s a blank canvas, no messages either way. I can’t think of anything to start.
Suzanne?
The response comes back relatively quickly. Yes. Avery, right?
We met this morning. Okay, I realize that sounds stupid the moment I press send so I add some more in way of explaining. Sorry, I’m not good at this sort of thing, so texting is easier.
You don’t have to be! That’s why you hire an agent. Shit. Did I not get my intentions across clearly this morning? I clarify again.
No, not real estate. This. Talking to a woman. Crap. That’s clear, but I sound like an idiot.
Ok.
You’re blowing this, Bolo, I say aloud, almost cursing myself. Sorry, I just get nervous.
I am the last person you have to be nervous around.
I actually feel like I hear the words rather than just reading them. They do manage to ease my mind a little bit. Thanks. Can I be honest with you?
That’s the best policy!
Don’t blow this, Avery. I think you’re incredibly beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I first saw you at Raza. The pause is enormous and I’m starting to feel the anxiety creep back in that was dissipated before by her nice words and reassurances. As a plus, though, I am amazed that I managed to even get the words out, even just in a text.
I don’t know what to say. The words are hard to read. Is she not interested? Is she about to blow me off? Maybe there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of; I didn’t want to pry too deep.
Say something. I say, then a second later. Anything. I know I’m sounding desperate, but I don’t care at this point. I just want this to work out, nothing seems like it could be more important.
I appreciate it. That’s a very nice thing to say, but I’m honestly worried about your motivations.
You are my motivation. It rolls off my fingertips like it is automatic. I hit send, knowing how cliché it sounds. I wait a minute. Suzanne? Another pause. I know this is coming out of the blue but I wouldn’t be able to do it otherwise. Even if you don’t believe me, don’t let anyone ever tell you that you aren’t perfect.
It’s actually an out for me if she’s not interested. A nice compliment, an easy way for her to let me down. I wait for the blow to come. It doesn’t. We chat a little and I ask her a few questions about herself, absorbing the answers. The conversation is getting a little easier. She doesn’t even flinch more than a bit when I ask her what type of lover she prefers. The answer she gives me excites me, and I feel a stirring in my jeans. I’m starting to wish I actually had called her instead of this. Twenty-twenty, right? Is it too late for that?
The phone rings. Shit. Devin. I reject it and go back to the written conversation. I thank her for her candid response. I’m just about to dig deeper, rejecting the notion of loosening my pants, at least for now, when the phone rings again. Fuck!
“Yeah?” I say, opening the connection.
“I really need you right now, Bolo.” Devin.
“What’s up?”
“I need you to take the rest of that product and deliver it. Needs to be there in an hour but it can’t be me, I have to keep my face out of it with this crew. Can I text you an address?”
“Can do.” I say, getting ready to rise. I hate to leave Suzanne hanging, though. “I need something from you though.”
“What’s that?”
“You still got connections that can track people down?”
“Of course.”
“I need you to find a home address from a name and employer. I’ll text you the info. Delivery quid pro quo, right?”
“You want me to deliver something?”
“Yeah, it’s super important. I’ll waive my fee on this one if you can swing it.” I say, smiling to myself. I’m much better with actions than with words.
“Dangerous?”
I laugh out loud, thinking about Suzanne and picturing her in my head. “No, just a delivery.”
Devin pauses for a moment. “Is this for that girl?”
A moment passes. “Yeah.”
“Damn, brother. I’m impressed. She’s got the hooks in you good.”
“We haven’t even gone out.” I say, feeling the need to defend myself a little.
The laugh at the other end of the phone makes me pull it back a few inches.
“Even worse, brother. Done deal, though. You can count on me. Only the best for Bolo’s lady love.”
The line goes dead. Suzanne. I switch back.
I’m sorry for the delay. I’m having an emergency. Would you forgive me if I text you more later? I feel like shit, but I need the work Devin brings me. I can’t let him down or he might turn to another guy.
Ok.
I’m already at the door of the safe room, hoping that I haven’t completely fucked things up with Suzanne. I bundle up the guns and throw them in the bag, knowing that I’m in a limited time window as the text has already come in with the address of the destination. I grab the keys and only a few minutes pass before I’ve got it plugged into the GPS and I’m on my way.
Walling yourself off is important with this type of work. I hate to admit it, but it’s all about the money. I have to protect myself from wondering where this stuff goes and what it’s used for. None of my fucking business. Is that a personality flaw? Probably. Means to an end, really. I’m planning on retiring at a young age and this is what it takes. Retirement makes me think of Suzanne, sitting cross-legged at the beach laughing with a little boy. The thought makes me a little emotional, so I wall that up as well. Plenty of time for that when the job is complete.
The drive is long and I’m cutting it close. Five minutes or so. Usually, when I’m not doing an exchange, it’s short and safe. Verify the guy is the guy, hand him the bag. Easy money.
Unfortunately, not everything is easy and tonight is no exception. I’m standing in front of the door at the drop-off location and no one is answering. I swear I see movement behind the peephole, but I don’t hear anything. There’s really not much that I can do at this point, so I text Devin.
No one onsite. I wait for another minute before the response comes in.
Let me check. Still listening for any signs inside, I step to the side of the door; just a precaution. I’m not really expecting that I’m in the line of fire, but it always pays to be safe; has so far after all. Drop is off. Still working on my end of the deal. Sorry brother.
I pick up the bag and head back to the car. No deal. Sometimes that happens. He didn’t give me an explanation and I don’t expect one because that part is his business and this part is mine. Nothing else, that’s the way it needs to stay.
Back at the house, I pull up my SMS again. I had wanted to wait until I got back, not wanting the delay with me trying to multitask with her and the road. Would she still be up?
I’m so sorry for that, Suzanne.
It’s okay. Is everything alright? I look at the message, happy that she’s still up. The conversation lasts a few more minutes and gets better. The imagined sound of her voice is making me happy and I don’t want it to end. I promise her a real date, but hopefully I’ll see her Saturday night at Raza. I’m just sitting staring at the phone when the last text of the night buzzes on the table.
Delivered. Go boy! Devin.
I smile and put the phone down, playing back the conversation in my head. When it ends, my mind starts filling in with our next meeting and I visualize that first kiss. Her body is warm and supple against mine and I can feel the tension in her body, the nervousness of the first intimacy. I press her firmly against the wall, driving my mouth harder over her lips. My hand is working the button of my jeans as I’m reclined on the couch, seemingly of its own accord. It’s not a pleasure I’ve allowed myself for a long time, but things are changing. I imagine her touch on me.
Chapter Fourteen: Suzanne
I’m sitting at the dining room table when I hear the door unlocking. I’ve been staring at the lilies for the last hour, interspersed with going back and rereading our conversation over and over again. Who is this guy? One the one hand, he’s absolutely perfect, but that’s purely physical. I know that’s what we’re supposed to say and think, but wow, he’s incredible. Super tall, those brown eyes set deep into that rugged face; his beard perfectly shaped and a little lighter than the short-cropped hair on his head. Brindle even. I laugh at the thought. Yeah, there’s a little hint of red and brown in there as well and it adds a sort of cuteness to the overwhelming hot factor. I’m still lost in thought when Anjelica comes in, looking sober, which is odd at this hour. She has some bags, so Grandpa must have taken her shopping.
“Oh, my God, I just had the most incredible night.” She says, plopping down on the chair opposite me, her bags discarded on the floor. “Did those come for me?”
She looks at the flowers and I feel immediately defensive. “No, they were delivered for me.”
Anjelica looks dubious at first, then what I translate as a look of pity crosses her face. “I’m so sorry, Suzanne, was it someone close to you?”
Misdirected, but still a nice thought. “No, I just like lilies and I told a guy that.”
“Ooh, a guy! Who is it? Anyone I know?”
My first thought was to rub it in her face, but I know that’s not the best thing to do, given that fact that nothing has really happened yet. My eyes go back to the flowers.
“No, just a guy. We’ll see how it goes. I just met him.” That’s mostly the truth, so it doesn’t alert her that I’m trying to keep it secret for the most part.
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you know I can get you hooked up, right?”
Sugar Baby sites. She’s still trying to convince me that I’d be better off in her line of ‘work’, and I’m still trying to convince her that that isn’t going to happen. Ever.
“Still not my style, Jelica.” I say, wearily. “How was Swanson?” I should know better than to ask. Best case scenario she’ll talk up how much money he gave her or what he bought for her. Worst case, well, I’m not looking forward to hearing the details.
“Who?”
“Your date.” I say, my eyes finally leaving the lilies and going to her. I’m having trouble focusing, or more aptly, caring.
“Oh, his name is Chuck Woolery.”
I snort, quickly covering my mouth.
“Chuck Woolery?”
I can’t really fault her too much. Yeah, she’s blonde, but she also grew up in another country. What did I expect, that the owner of the second-largest real estate agency in own would give his real name to his Sugar Baby?
“Yeah, kind of a goofy name, but he’s actually super sweet. I didn’t really enjoy the play, but at least we went shopping after.”
“Well, I’m glad you had a good time and that you’re safe. French literature isn’t for everyone.” I say. The hope is that I can stand up and slip off to bed without much more conversation. It doesn’t work.
“C’mon, Suzanne. How can you knock something that you haven’t tried? You know you’re allowed to say no to more than just a date, right?”
Internally, I’m laughing. This girl hasn’t said no to anyone in years. “I know, Jelica. Your heart’s in the right place and I appreciate the offer, but I’m pretty happy with my job right now.” It’s a lie, but she doesn’t have to know that.
“You think it’s going to work out with this guy?” She asks. It seems like she’s dropping it, but it doesn’t mean that part of the conversation is over, unfortun
ately.
Avery’s face pops up in my head and just the image makes me happy, despite my own misgivings. “You never know. I really hope so.”
She putters around for a few more minutes before announcing that she’s going to go to bed. I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I keep staring at the flowers. It’s been a long time; the last with the boyfriend before last, and that only after a few months when he knew that I was thinking about breaking things off. Besides, who has flowers delivered by just some random guy or a friend, especially after midnight? The vase gets pulled to my chest and goes with me as I rise to go to my bedroom.
Sleep doesn’t come, though. My brain is too active, mostly thinking about Avery. I realize I know his face, his voice and at least the general shape of his body, but nothing else. Hell, I didn’t even bother to ask him any questions back when he was asking them of me. Stupid. He probably thinks I’m a narcissist. I laugh because I’m about as far from that as I consider possible.
The fact that the way he dresses leaves so much to the imagination causes my tired mind to start making an attempt to fill in the blanks. Of course it’s all chiseled chest and abs, that clean slope of muscles below his waist; an arrow pointing the way downwards towards…
I roll over, retrieving the Hitachi from under the bed. Well, maybe this will help me sleep, I tell myself, looking over at the lilies. The familiar buzz lights up my senses before it even touches me. Pavlov’s dog, I think, closing my eyes.
Chapter Fifteen: Avery
This is probably the most people I’ve seen at the club since I’ve been here. I talked to Chase and he made the call that we go ahead and skirt the fire code for tonight. He mentioned that maybe we’d have a chance to annex the vacant section of the building next door if things keep up.
Bolo Page 9
