She turned into Mary Jane’s driveway and pulled past the large Craftsman style house into the back, parking in front of the steps to the apartment above the three-car garage. As Sam alighted from her car, she could see the drapes in Mary Jane’s living room had been pulled. She made her way up the wooden staircase, lightly touching the vines that had wound themselves around the railing. The door was unlocked. She let herself in.
The silhouette of Mary Jane against the bright screen was almost eerie. She turned and smiled “Flip that light on. No reason you should go blind too.”
Sam lit the room as Mary Jane punched a button on her monitor to give it a respite. Sam collapsed into the deep cushions of Mary Jane’s couch and pushed her shoes off. Mary Jane strolled into the kitchen toward the smell of coffee brewing.
“Want some?”
“Please, I’m dead on my feet. I talked to Amanda and she’s cool.” Sam tucked her feet under her and continued her couch-nesting ritual, “Any luck?”
A few moments of silence passed before Mary Jane reappeared with steaming mugs of coffee. She passed one to Sam and focused her attention on one of the legs of the coffee table, looking as if trying to choose her words carefully.
“What? That’s not a happy look, Mary Jane.”
Mary Jane couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I have a plan.”
CHAPTER 31
Gio stretched his bulky frame and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Lying next to him on a crush of pillows he could see long blond curls mussed from sex and sleep. Slender, tan legs wove their way in and out of the bed sheets. The sight woke him completely. It was always a nice surprise when a girl still looked good in the morning. He ran his fingertips down her spine and gently traced the outlines of her hips, trying to rouse her. He pushed himself against her back and brushed his stubbly face in the cupped skin where her shoulders met her collarbone. His hands ran along the skin of her stomach feeling the downy soft fuzz.
Low moans muffled by the pillows drifted from the blond mess. She began twisting into a sexy wake-up squirm, extending her slender, firm arms into a stretch that found its way around Gio’s broad shoulders. She turned her head and fixed her icy blue eyes on him in a stare that could heat up hell.
Gio pushed himself on top of her, enjoying the feeling of being dominant. He needed to feel like a protector, a predator. His needs revolved around the base emotions and particularly where sex was concerned those needs were primitive. Running his tongue along his teeth he could feel the fur he hadn’t yet brushed away. It would have to wait. Gio split her legs with his knee and pushed himself inside her.
He stared down at her as he paced his strokes, thinking it would be a very bad thing if Fedya ever found out what he and Nikki were up to.
CHAPTER 32
“Najib,” Fedya greeted the Central Asian man in a bear hug, speaking in accent-less Dari “Good to see you my old friend.”
“Good to see you too, Fedya. You are making me rich, and my enemies jealous!” Najib responded in kind. “I want to tell you all about the expansion of the organization, but perhaps we should talk in private?” The man’s Afghani bodyguards lowered their eyes. Fedya’s American henchmen stared dumbly at Nikki, who was sprawled on the couch, nonchalantly inspecting her nails.
“Please.” Fedya motioned to the set of tall, wooden French doors leading to his library where Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan sang his rhythmic chants through the speakers hidden behind the richly paneled walls.
The two men first met in Afghanistan. Even though they were in opposing camps politically, they had a common interest — poppies. At the time, Najib was a mid-ranking soldier in the opium syndicate operating in Kabul. After a bloody rise to power, he now controlled a majority of the fields in northern Afghanistan. Fedya had recognized the look in Najib’s eyes, so many years ago. He could tell Najib would one day be as powerful as himself, almost. He’d chosen his friends wisely over the years.
Nearly doubling the amount of opium making its way across US borders in the last three years, Fedya had definitely profited from their association. In addition to his prowess in the drug trade, Fedya’s real talent was money laundering. This skill is what kept the scales in their relationship balanced, since both men had something the other wanted. Najib had been able to funnel large sums of money to his favorite Islamic groups inside the United States. Fedya suspected they were actually Islamic terrorist sleeper cells living comfortably in suburban America on Najib’s dime. But his loyalties were with no one. Certainly not with the work-a-day American.
Gesturing toward an overstuffed leather chair in front of the darkened privacy windows, Fedya lifted a burl wood box from its place on the side table. He opened the humidor and offered Najib one of the perfectly rolled cigars, lined up neatly in the aromatic box.
Najib accepted with a smile. “Even the Prophet would forgive a man’s weakness for such a fine Cuban.”
Fedya settled himself into his own chair and turned the music up a few notches with a remote control. “So where were we Najib? Oh yes, you were about to tell me all about your ever-expanding empire.”
CHAPTER 33
Hip-hop thundered through the room as Grace was finishing a table dance for two of her regular customers. It had been a long time since she had been choosy about the music she danced to. When she first started out in the business, she’d wait for a song she liked to do a dance, but now if music was playing, she’d be dancing. Her regulars were a married couple who were in every Thursday between 7:30 and 9:30. They had a standing time with their babysitter and always went to dinner before coming to the club. Grace only danced for Jennifer, the wife, while Barry, the husband, watched. They said it kept their marriage “fresh” and they both enjoyed the getaway. Grace genuinely enjoyed their company and looked forward to their visits. They knew the rules, never crossed the line and tipped well. It was a two-hour chunk of her night that she could lower her guard and relax.
Grace moved her face close to Jennifer’s cheek and breathed in her perfume. Issey Miyaki tonight. Jen had excellent taste. She brushed Jen’s hair back with her fingertips and looked her in the eye. Grace found that the techniques for men and women were slightly different. Women liked a lot of direct eye contact and a dance that was gentle and seductive. In general, men appreciated the seduction, but were much more interested in seeing the body move, the pure visual charade. Grace also knew that generalizations were dangerous so she relied on her instincts to read each person.
As the song ended, Grace pulled her pink lace bra and panty set back on and smiled at Jen who sat flushed and breathless. Barry pressed a bill into Jen’s hand who in turn offered the paper up to Grace like a timid child. She pulled her garter out and accepted the twenty. Bussing Jen on the cheek, she thanked Barry before plopping into the padded armchair next to Jen.
“So tell me all about your week, young lovers.”
“Oh, business is only constant in its change,” Barry smirked “There must be something more interesting than banking for us to talk about?”
“Hmmmm, well, you could be reading me the dictionary as long as you let me stare at your wife.” Grace stayed in character.
Clearly pleased, Jen grinned from ear to ear, “Why don’t you tell her about that conference on world banking practices you just attended, Barry? They covered some really interesting stuff.” She cut her eyes back to Grace, who nodded enthusiastically and gracefully tipped her champagne flute back to drain the last few drops.
CHAPTER 34
Fedya was a regular at Bones, one of the city’s top steak houses.
“Mr. Patrushev, welcome Sir.” The maitre d’ flashed a congenial smile and ushered Fedya to his regular table with Nikki in tow. Two of his guards were shown to an adjacent table by the maître ‘d’s assistant.
“Jeffrey will be your server, as requested. Is there anything I can get to start this evening?”
“Yes. Close the door. Tonight we dine in privacy.”
The man sp
uttered, thinking about the tables he had already booked in the room, “Uh, sir . . .”
“I will pay, just keep this room empty.”
Sweat beaded on the maître ‘d’s brow as he gave a single nod and turned to leave.
“I have azzociates who vill join me at six forty-five sharp. Please show them in.”
Red faced, the maître ‘d managed a weak smile and hurried off to try and rearrange his seating plan. Tonight was going to involve a lot of ass kissing for him, thanks to this Russian fuck.
Nikki stared at Fedya for a moment then flipped through her menu.
“I don’t understand why my menu never shows the prices, Fedya.” She ran her hand along her sun kissed shoulder and down her arm. Pressing her tongue against the back of her lips to make them seem fuller, she blinked several times as if this would help elicit a response from him.
Smiling, Fedya said, “Because the beautiful woman does not need to worry about such things.”
Nikki returned the smile, satisfied that he’d acknowledged her beauty. She shook her mane of blond curls and pressed the toe of her bare foot into his crotch.
Jeffrey, their regular waiter appeared with a flourish, placing chilled Vodka in front of Fedya and a flute of champagne in front of Nikki. He’d been careful to remove the stems from the three cherries resting at the bottom of the flute so she wouldn’t have to dirty her hands with the task.
“Always a pleasure to see the two of you!” he said, straightening the waiter’s towel on his left arm. They chatted briefly, exchanging pleasantries before Jeffrey took their orders and moved to the guards’ table.
“So who are we meeting?” Nikki sipped from her glass as she studied Fedya’s face over the rim.
“Just some old friendz. Nobody you know.” He stared back at her. “When they come, the car will take you home.”
Nikki gave a displeased squeak. “Can’t we ever just have a dinner that’s not all about business, Fedya? GOD! I’m always in second place with you! Do you do this to your wife?”
Fedya’s eyes grew cold and he held completely still like a hunter waiting for his prey to wander into range. Nikki knew the moment the words were out that she had gone too far.
“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to say that. It was stupid. I just want to know I’m important to you. And I miss you when you have to spend time with these people for business.”
Fedya remained motionless. Unblinking.
Nikki started to rub her nose nervously, wanting desperately to have a little bump of coke from the vial in her clutch purse.
A few moments passed as Fedya stared through her. “I will say this only once. My wife never cross your lips again. Ever.”
Nikki dropped her gaze to the clear liquid in Fedya’s glass and nodded. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hoping she wouldn’t have to pay for her indiscretion later. She excused herself to the bathroom to find comfort in the magic powder she’d been longing for.
Fedya rolled his eyes and thought about whether he was ready to trade her for a newer model. Sometimes she was just so unnecessarily difficult. He bought her clothes and a condo, gave her a nice car and a large enough allowance that she didn’t have to work. All he expected in return was availability, monogamy (on her part), and silence. Is that too much to ask? He wondered.
“Fucking American women,” he muttered under his breath as he turned his vodka in place at the table. He studied the bluish jailhouse style tattoo of two lightening bolts on the web of his right hand between his thumb and index finger. This was a badge of honor for Fedya. It symbolized his loyalty to the brotherhood of thieves. It meant he’d never given up information on anyone. He never rolled up his sleeves in public, not wanting to expose his most personal work of art. The one that told his story in a full suit of ink that covered every inch of his body other than his hands, feet, neck and head. He was what’s known as Sinie, or a “blue” in Russian mob circles, because of the color of the ink used in the tattoos.
Nikki returned looking antsy. She slid into the leather booth next to him and wrapped her arms around his thick neck. Her eyes were glassy and she began to chatter happily about nothing in particular. It irritated Fedya when she got high around him and he pushed her away gruffly. He’d have to punish her if she wrecked his mood before he had his meeting tonight with Mr. Cortez from the Colombian Medallin consortium.
CHAPTER 35
Christmas came and went without event. Sam and Grace both returned to the Midwest to spend the holidays with their families. Dodging questions about work was universally dreaded with exotic dancers.
Birdie and Mary Jane celebrated the season together at Birdie’s loft, which now sported a fully decorated tree, complete with wrapped packages, in the middle of the living room. Most of the gifts the girls had bought on a shopping trip, paying for each other’s goodies. A few of the boxes held surprises from customers.
Christmas morning was spent indulging in rare treats — a few joints rolled in strawberry flavored paper, and lots of cartoons on TV. Both worked on Christmas night. Sadly, the club was always packed on holidays. People were tired of the family thing and flooded into the club in droves. Regular customers who hadn’t made it in prior to Christmas showed up bearing gifts, with pocketfuls of cash.
* * *
On a brisk Saturday night at the end of December, it was business as usual at the Pink Pussycat. Chaos reigned supreme. Sam was still out because of travel. Grace had returned from her week away. Gio ambled around the club in his usual way, pretending to check for improprieties. He was doing nothing more strenuous than schmoozing.
Inclement weather tends to slow most clubs and bars down, but for the Pussycat it was the opposite. In the dead of winter, hopping from bar to bar loses its appeal. Scantily clad, tanned bodies were what pulled the crowds. School shopping was over, Christmas was over and expense accounts were on the verge of being replenished, so the money rolled in.
When the club started to slow down around 3:30, Gio sidled up to the bar and tapped his keys twice in front of Mary Jane. It was his demeaning way of letting her know she could close out her till. She watched him turn and head for the steps leading to the office.
Nikki scurried over to him and huddled close while they exchanged words. This wasn’t something that would have normally caught Mary Jane’s eye. Conversation in close proximity was necessary because of the noise level. Nikki touched the sleeve of his jacket and let her eyes wander down his chest. A slight smile played at the corners of Gio’s mouth as he lowered his head to hear what she said.
“Boilermaker!” One of the new waitresses slammed her tray down at the waitress station.
“You’ll have to go to the other end, I’m closed out.” Mary Jane said, distracted by the girls’ brash demeanor.
The waitress gasped and stomped toward the far end of the bar.
“Bitch,” Mary Jane muttered under her breath.
“What?” She hadn’t noticed that Bunny, the other bartender, was facing bottles behind her.
“Nothing. Just the chip on the new girl’s shoulder.”
“I’ll make her wait a little bit then.” Bunny smiled.
Mary Jane grinned back and mouthed “thank you.”
Turning her attention back to Gio and Nikki, she squinted at the crowd, but they were gone.
She poured cranberry juice over the ice in a lowball glass and garnished it with two cherries. Waving down one of her favorite waitresses, she slipped her a five and asked her to take it upstairs to Grace in VIP 16.
Quickly tapping her log-out code on the touch screen, she slid the locking tray cover for her money drawer from its nook below the ice bin. The register popped open. Mary Jane pulled the till from the drawer, locked it and grabbed her tip jar from the ledge in front of the top shelf liquor bottles. She turned back to the floor just as one of the bouncers glided up to the bar.
He offered her his arm as if he were escorting Queen Elizabeth, “Madam?”
Mary Jane smiled
and maybe even blushed just a little, “Be careful how you use that word around here or someone might get the wrong idea!”
He took the locked till from her. She accepted his arm with her free hand, “Thank you sir.”
They chatted about the evening as they rode up the glass elevator to the second floor.
Outside the office, the bouncer handed Mary Jane her till and stepped off to the side as she twisted the knob to enter. She could hear shuffling as the door started to swing open. Nikki was standing directly in front of Gio. The two were almost touching, but not quite. Without any exchange Nikki turned and pushed her way past Mary Jane out of the office. Mary Jane turned her head just in time to catch a backwards glance intended for Gio.
The smile faded from Gio’s face, and he pointed at one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk.
“OKAY!” he barked at the bouncer, dismissing him.
For Gio, arrogance wasn’t just directed at the girls. He was an equal opportunity asshole.
Mary Jane settled into the scratchy armchair as Gio began keying information into his laptop. She flipped the lock on her till and began sorting through the stacks of money.
“Nice job, Mary Jane. It shows you rang $34,337.25 tonight.”
Mary Jane jotted the number down on her pad so she would be able to match her final count to what the club’s mainframe system had calculated. Everything the club sold was calculated to the nearest quarter. Nobody had time for pennies in a strip club and the fewer coins they had to deal with, the better.
Gio swiveled in his chair and twisted the safe’s dial to two of the four stops needed to open it when he stopped dead in his tracks.
“AAAWWWWW MYYYYY GAWWWWWWDDD! AAAAAAAAAA!”
It might as well have been a dog whistle for poor Gio because he leapt from his chair so quickly that it bounced off the wall and toppled with a clatter. He raced out the office door and the hydraulic arm pulled it closed.
Tea Leafing: A Novel Page 13
