Prick, she thought.
Nikki finished her sloppy, random packing, figuring they’d buy her a wardrobe at their destination as usual. She was looking forward to relaxing in Nevis, but irritated Fedya was being such a crabby bastard.
Images of the black sand beaches and clear blue water floated through her mind. Her thoughts drifted until the doorbell jerked her back to reality. She threw on a short sundress and sandals and headed out, dragging her bag behind her.
CHAPTER 53
Perched on an overturned five-gallon plastic pail, Birdie closely examined all four wheels of the upended shopping cart. She spun each one around in its sleeve to ensure it wouldn’t catch during turns or, worse yet, lock in place. She greased each moving part and repeated its motion to work the lubricant into its proper place, packing the ball bearings with grease. Next she spun the wheels and greased those too. Satisfied that the shopping cart was in the best possible working order, she returned it to its upright position. Pushing it around the interior of the garage-sized storage space she checked to make sure the cart was level.
Once Birdie was old enough, it became her task to make sure the mechanical things at her mum’s house were in working order. It wasn’t something she loved. But she did seem to possess proficiency with machinery that most of her brothers lacked. They would taunt her, calling her Grease Monkey. But she’d always have the last word. She’d wrangle the distributor cap from the car when they had dates, disconnect the tellie when favorite programs were on, and generally make their lives inconvenient and frustrating. Birdie couldn’t recite Shakespeare, but she could back-flush a cooling system with the best of them.
Picking up the weight plates to the barbells she’d bought at a garage sale, she carefully stacked them in what she called “the buggy.” Working the pole had given her upper body strength far greater than the average woman her size. So all but the one-hundred-pound plate were easy to lift. The large one was manageable. But it took some maneuvering to keep from dropping it. Loaded with almost three hundred pounds, she tossed the lightweight bags of cans on top of the cart. Pushing off with the balls of her feet, she made a lap around the concrete floor of the doublewide storage unit, u-turned, and made a few laps in the other direction. The weight of the cart was a challenge, but not unmanageable. Only time would tell if the dips and cracks of Piedmont Road’s uneven pavement would prove too much.
CHAPTER 54
“Hump Day.”
“I hate that term. It’s never as fun as it sounds.”
Sam applied dark red lipstick with a small brush. A dab of glistening pink at the bottom center and brown eyeliner blended at the corners helped create a fat, pouty pucker.
“Kyle left.”
Sam stopped and looked at Grace in the mirror.
“On vacation? Don’t tell me you gave him the money to do that!”
“Nope.” Grace looked nonplussed, “Left me. Packed his things and went off to find himself.”
Grace continued nonchalantly stroking her lashes with mascara. She methodically alternated her task with careful application of a powdery thickener, then back to the mascara.
Mary Jane, Birdie, and Sam stopped their primping and stared at Grace.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Bloody hell, Grace! You just paid for ‘is fackin’ vasectomy! Wha’ about that?”
“Birdie!” Mary Jane chided.
“No, there’s not much to talk about, at least right now. I don’t want to loose focus and I’m swinging back and forth between delight at being free and depression at being deserted.” Grace turned her eyes straight up at the ceiling. “Don’t make me cry. I just did my mascara and you know if that goes I have to start all over.”
“Better off without that pillock, Grace. He wasn’t even a good wife to you.” Birdie managed a smile. “Not like you’ll ‘ave any trouble findin’ a replacement that works and can’t keep ‘is hands off you. Fackin shame about that vasectomy though. I’d say cut ‘is bollocks off for repayment, but ‘ow do you get repaid for something you’ve already taken?”
Grace laughed, “Yeah, that’s my only consolation. I know I paid someone else to inflict pain on that bastard.” She met their gazes straight on rather than in the mirror. “Good, now I’m getting pissed. Keep it coming, I just don’t want to be sad.”
“Stay with one of us as long as you want to. You don’t have to go home to an empty house.”
Grace nodded and returned to the mirror, “It just burns me that after all the times I tried to kick him out and he refused to go, that he leaves now just to make sure it was on his terms. My ego is bruised. I know better than to waste time on an idiot like that and yet I did.”
“Hey, we’ve all dated our share of losers.” Sam pulled Grace into a hug while Mary Jane and Birdie patted her back, waiting for their turns. “Think about that guy Birdie dated, the one with nine toes? He told her he was a stock broker and it turned out he worked at Chucky Cheese as a part-time magician?”
“He was a great shag though.” Birdie insisted.
“Shag or no shag, he was a liar.”
“True.”
“I know. Thanks, ladies. I’m sure I’ll have my fair share of melt-downs about this, but right now I just want to go make some money.”
“The Colonel awaits!” Birdie jumped to her feet, turned her back and smacked her ass in Grace’s face. “Let’s go!!”
When in a VIP room, dancers are still responsible for doing their stage sets. Usually, a twenty slipped to the DJ will excuse them from the task. But Birdie loved the stage. The Colonel, whose name happened to be Warren, loved to watch Birdie work the pole, so he didn’t mind her leaving for the fifteen minutes required for the three songs. “Chicken on a stick” was what he affectionately called her pole stunts.
Figuring she could make an extra hundred or so from her performance, she lightly sprayed golf grip on the front of her legs and took to the main stage with a fury. Loosely gripping the brass pole with her right hand she gained speed with a striding skip. Launching herself into the air, she wrapped her outside leg in front of the pole and sandwiched it with her right leg, spinning at incredible speed. Feeling the wind in her hair, she knew this was the closest she would ever come to flying. The next ten minutes, she circled back and forth between the pole and the edges of the stage where she’d collect her tips. Once she was fully nude for her final song, her dancing was restricted to a closed-knee twisting shuffle.
She often thought she’d have a pole installed in her loft, but it hadn’t been something she ever quite managed to get around to. Her pole tricks were for herself, not her clientele, although she realized the financial benefits of her proficiency.
Near the end of her third song, she made her way around the edge of the semi-circular main stage. She paused, flustered. Birdie pulled her garter out to accept a twenty-dollar tip from Joe.
He was careful to make direct eye contact.
“Thank you.” She smiled, trying to seem as casual as she’d been with everyone else.
“I’m at the bar.” Joe mouthed.
Birdie nodded and looked toward the back bar where Mary Jane stood, staring straight back at her.
She winked and continued making her rounds.
Ten minutes worth of thanking customers elapsed before she was able to make her way to the back where Joe stood in the shadows. Mary Jane had taken a break and was lingering across the bar from him, waiting for Birdie to return.
“Sorry, mate, we’re up in a VIP,” Birdie said, hugging his neck as if he were a regular.
“Mary Jane told me. No worries. Just wanted to check in and make sure everyone is ok.”
Birdie and Mary Jane traded glances, “Yeah, we’re all fine. Why? Something come up?”
Joe studied the two as if turning the question over in his mind. “No, nothing much.” He paused, “Fedya left the country with Nikki yesterday. She’s due back on Sunday and he’s going on to Yekaterinburg for a week. Our sources tell
us he’s visiting his family there. I just wanted to do a head count.”
“Where’d he take Nikki?” Mary Jane asked.
“A little island in the eastern Caribbean called Nevis.”
Mary Jane raised her eyebrows, “Posh.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Private too.”
“Brits love it there.” Birdie chimed in; “Think we owned it for a while.”
Joe grinned, “So to speak.”
“Do you think it’s just a vacation?” Mary Jane couldn’t help but bat her eyes slightly at Joe.
“Dunno. We’ve got a contact down there who is supposed to be keeping an eye on them. It’s tough from this far. I just wanted to see if you ladies had heard anything.”
Birdie noticed Gio emerge from the office for the first time this evening. He directed his gaze straight down at the threesome gathered at the bar.
“Shit,” Birdie lowered her voice, “Do we know if this spot is safe?”
Birdie jerked her head in Gio’s direction and the other two looked up to see Gio standing with hands on the railing as if he was a dictator looking down on his subjects.
“Fuck,” Mary Jane mumbled.
“I’m out,” Joe said in his low, grumbly voice, “Call me if anything pops up.”
The two smiled, exchanged a look and headed off in their opposite directions.
CHAPTER 55
After work, the foursome paid their tip outs, took the Breathalyzer and headed for Denny’s. Tanya greeted them with hugs just inside the double glass doors.
“Hey ya’ll! Sit wherever you like.”
Heading for their usual table, Sam fished a small Tupperware canister from her bag. It was the kind designed to hold sandwich meat, its body six inches in length, three across and two deep. A small micro-cassette player had been placed in the bottom of the tub. Remaining quiet once they took their seats, Sam ran a bead of temporary adhesive caulk around the lip of the container. She pressed play and adjusted the volume. The girls’ voices chattered from the recorder in conversational tones, although the content of the conversation was taken from surveillance manual Mary Jane had downloaded online. An instructional “how to,” if you will. Grace glanced out the window briefly, confirming their friends in the dark blue sedan were parked in a dusky corner several businesses down. Sam pressed the Tupperware over the listening device, running her fingers around the edge to ensure a good seal.
“Bob’s your uncle.” Sam announced, lacing her fingers in front of her on the table and grinning ear to ear.
“There ya go!” Birdie cheered, “And who says Yanks aren’t trainable?”
“So Fedya and Nikki are in the Caribbean, Gio is cranky as hell, and we’re on schedule.” Mary Jane said.
“Think Fedya got wind of the Nikki and Gio, umm, thing?” Grace asked, running her nails along the Formica.
Tanya delivered the usual drinks and headed off. Denny’s was busy for a Wednesday night and she was hustling to keep up.
“Who gives a damn,” Sam said “As long as it helps our plan to have those two out of the picture on Saturday then I’m glad they’re gone.”
The wheels in Birdie’s mind were turning, “But will they stay gone? I mean, what are the chances this is some sort of ruse? For the sake of argument, what say if they know what we’re up to and are playing us?”
“How would they know?” Mary Jane placed her hand over the spot on the table where the listening device was. Feeling the vibration of the recorder she relaxed and slid her hand back in front of her.
“What if they know abou’ the files? What if there’s a camera in the office we don’t know about?”
“I checked the monitors in Gio’s closet and didn’t see one for the office. I snagged the DVD so they wouldn’t have a record of me going in or out and I wore those friggin’ powderless gloves, so no fingerprints were left.” She looked at Sam. “I have a bone to pick with you about those by the way.” She paused, looking at the dropped popcorn ceiling while she jogged her memory. “I did everything according to plan, so I don’t see how they could have figured things out.”
“Let’s not start questioning ourselves or we’ll go crazy,” Grace reasoned.
“We’ll assume everything is okay unless we hear otherwise,” Sam agreed.
CHAPTER 56
Grace sat on the couch under an afghan crocheted by Sam’s mom. She snuggled her feet into a warm, tight nook between the cushions while Sam unloaded the dishwasher.
“Do you ever worry about what your folks would say if they found out what you do?”
“Whaddya mean? The dancing?”
“Uh huh. I’m just afraid my parents would freak. I really hope they don’t know.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it if they do, babe. I think about it sometimes though. That’s the only part I hate about our Sunday talks,” Sam said. “I tell them about my life, about you girls and what’s going on. I try and glaze over the freelance stuff. I’m sure they wonder what the hell I’m up to, but they give me space and don’t question it. I guess I’m lucky. Maybe someday I’ll tell them, but I’m afraid they’d worry themselves to death if they knew the truth right now.” She paused, thinking about Lena, “You know, worry that something bad would happen.”
“I know. I hate it too. God I hope Kyle doesn’t become vindictive and call them. They loved Kyle, you know.”
“Yup. I don’t think he will. He’s an ass, but I don’t think he’s that much of an ass. Besides, what does he have to gain by doing that?”
Grace looked thoughtful, “I don’t know why I miss him. After all, that relationship was over long ago.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it. There’s something to be said for that familiarity. There’s comfort in ritual, Grace. Two people get used to each other and even if the love is gone, there’s something safe about the patterns you get into. Even the arguing becomes a part of your life. You can’t help but miss it when it’s gone.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just my ego talking. I know he needed to be the one to end things so he could salvage the masculinity he lost while we were together. The evil part of me still hopes he gets Herpes.”
Sam laughed and closed the upper cabinets, dishes safely stowed away. She looked across the bar dividing the kitchen from the living room at her friend nestled under her favorite blanket. Grace looked beautiful, even at the end of a long night with her large eyes smeared with make-up and her hair disheveled into an asymmetrical stack that looked like a tilted blonde layer cake.
“Change sucks. That’s all there is to it, but who knows how many great guys you passed up while you were wasting time with him.” She thought a minute. “No, that’s not right. Everything happens for a reason, Grace. Even though we can’t see it now, there’s a reason you and Kyle were together as long as you were. That time has passed and the future holds something bigger and better for you.” She came around the bar and kissed Grace’s forehead, sitting on the couch next to her. “You know what they say,” she smiled, “God never closes a door without opening a window.”
The two hugged, and Sam could feel Grace’s body shake as she sobbed into her shoulder.
CHAPTER 57
Gio paced the floor in front of his maroon leather couch. The muted TV flashed images of an old mob flick. He loved the idea of mafia and was always secretly flattered when people mistook his raspy, Jersey accent for a sign that he must be a wise guy. Emulating the suave villains he’d seen in so many gangster flicks, he downplayed speculations about his own involvement. He never believed he might actually be caught up with some very dangerous affiliates of the Russian mob. He knew there were shady deals going down with Fedya, and of course he knew money was being funneled in and out of the club in a dubious way, but he was so caught up in the fantasy of the dangerous cover that it hadn’t occurred to him it might be real.
Picking up his beer from the side table, he took a pull from the longneck. Could Fedya have really been responsible for Lena’s de
ath? Could he really be a Russian mobster? Gio always assumed he was rich and like many wealthy men, liked to flaunt power. That’s where he believed it ended. Fedya had regular meetings in the club with various foreign nationals, and the gang of thugs who never seemed to go off duty. When Fedya gave the girls that money after Lena’s death, he thought it was generous donation for a few days off work. He had assumed Fedya was trying to sleep with one of them and so was overly generous. He’d dismissed it as overactive hormones.
Gio was torn. Part of him was pissed that Nikki would take off on vacation and not bother to tell him. The other part, worried that she may not have been able to reach him. A pang of guilt hit him in the gut as he thought about the twins he’d spent the previous night with. They were too hot to pass up though. Nikki would just have to understand. He’d turned his cell phone off so he wouldn’t be disturbed and wondered if she’d tried to call. Not one to leave messages, Nikki would generally hang up in a huff if she weren’t able to get through.
Gio paced the floor. Yesterday Fedya had raked him over the coals like never before. Fortunately he’d done it in private so Gio was spared humiliation in front of subordinates. Not sure if the “talk” had been intended as a motivational business chat or a personal threat. During the meeting it had crossed his mind that Fedya might have found out about the affair, but nothing was ever said directly about it. Deciding he was just paranoid, he focused on raising the profit margin of the club as Fedya requested. He’d post a sign in the dressing room announcing the new, higher tip out. He’d also implement some new rules that would allow him to fine employees for various infractions. The rules would work for a few weeks until the dancers were used to the new system and found ways around them.
He knew Fedya wasn’t hurting for cash and the club had never been more profitable. Trying to get a handle on what was irking Fedya was about to drive Gio crazy.
“Giovanni!” Came the singsong voice from the foyer.
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