"I see," Debra said. "She's a gorgeous lady, young too. What's she like to work for?"
"She's very hands off, I doubt you'll deal with her very often," Piper said carefully.
"I heard some of the gossip on Friday, is there any truth to it?" Debra asked curiously.
"What gossip?" Piper asked with a wrinkling brow.
"That she's as sharp as a razor and to never, ever cross her," Debra said casually. "I also heard she lives on the top floor all alone and she rarely makes an appearance in public."
"Well, there's no doubt she's really smart, she does live upstairs and I worked for C-Corp for over two years before I saw her for the first time," Piper said. "Let me guess, they tried to scare you with the Princess of Darkness routine?"
Debra laughed. "Yeah, I heard that too."
"I heard all the same things when I came over. Don't pay any attention to them," Piper said dismissively.
"I won't now, but I'll admit she looks like she could be the Right Hand of Lucifer if you got her angry."
"Maybe," Piper said quietly and wondered what Bailey would be like angry. She had watched her beat up those guys, but she had done it with no emotion and in a very distant and cold manner. It had been quick and done with very little effort. There was no doubt in her mind that Bailey could be very dangerous if she wanted to be, perhaps even lethal dangerous, but what would she be like if she lost control in a rage? She took a deep breath and hoped that she would never find out.
----------
Bailey wandered out of her bedroom late in the day with the CD's she had purchased the day before and spent a couple of hours listening to them on the headphones in the library before Satterfield made an appearance. She saw him enter and removed her headphones.
"Hello, Mr. Satterfield," she said pleasantly.
"Hello," he said as he took as seat in one of the chairs. "I'm afraid that I have a grocery list for you," he added producing it out of his pocket.
"Alright, I'll call them in, I noticed the cupboards were getting a little bare. You might want to add to your list, I'll be gone over the holiday."
"I was wondering about my car as well," he said reluctantly.
"The Gremlin?" she asked with a touch of humor.
"Yes, I've developed a fondness for it. Would it be possible to have it moved someplace until I can recover it?"
"Alright."
"Not going out tonight?"
"No," she said with a little scowl.
"Is everything okay?" he asked in concern.
"She had to go out of town for a couple of days," she elaborated.
"Oh, good," he said. "Where are you going over the holiday?"
"She's taking me to meet her parents."
"Really? That's a big step."
"It is?" Bailey asked curiously.
"Well, sure. She's bringing you home to her family, it means you're important to her."
Bailey pondered that for a moment in silence before she reached into her sweats for the cell phone.
"Josh?" she said. "Are you still in the building?"
Martin listened while she arranged to have his car picked up from the hotel parking lot and placed in the parking garage across the street.
"I'll need the keys, I put them back in your bag," she said to Martin when she hung up.
"Alright, be right back," he said handing her the grocery list and ambling out into the hall.
While Martin was gone, she called in the grocery list to the delivery service she used. He returned just as she was finishing the order.
"You have your groceries delivered?"
"Yes, they'll be here tomorrow."
"Does someone come in here?"
"No, they're delivered to the private elevator in the lobby and I go down and bring them up," she explained. "No one has access to this floor but me. You can't get in or out without me."
"I see."
"I have to drop off your keys. I bought some new CD's yesterday, they're on the desk if you're interested," she said getting up and leaving the room.
"Thanks," he called after her and with a grin went over to see what she had bought.
Bailey was scowling slightly when she came back into the house. Josh had seen fit to snicker at her and even make a comment when the elevator doors had opened. She made straight for the bathroom to look in the mirror and found that her hair was indeed all over the place, having not given a thought to doing anything with it when she got out of bed. She started to brush it out and wondered if she really had changed recently. Josh and Satterfield were both afraid of her and she knew it, but both of them had relaxed around her to the point of making wisecracks and even teasing her a little. She couldn't imagine even two weeks ago letting anyone get away with such familiarity. She traced all the changes around her to a little redhead who had insidiously gotten around all her barriers, and now she couldn't imagine being without her. Her cell phone rang and she put her brush down to pull the phone from her sweats.
"Cameron."
"Hey, gorgeous, what ya doin?" Piper asked in a sultry voice.
"Was just thinking about you actually," Bailey said walking into her bedroom and taking a seat on the edge of her bed.
"Really?" Piper asked happily.
"Yeah," Bailey admitted. "You get there okay?"
"Yep, just got settled, thought I'd call my girlfriend."
"I'm glad you did," Bailey said honestly.
"Me too, I really wanted to spend some more time with you before we took off this week."
"Piper, am I important to you?" Bailey asked quietly remembering Satterfield's words.
"Bailey, you're the most important thing in my life," Piper said seriously sensing that the answer was significant to the sometimes insecure woman. "Why would you ask?"
Bailey closed her eyes at the response. "Just wondering about things."
"Well, you don't have to wonder about that."
"How did things go today?" she asked changing the subject.
"Okay, meeting with the bigwigs tomorrow morning, wish me luck."
"You'll do fine," Bailey said with a smile, knowing it for the truth.
"Think so?" Piper asked nervously.
"Yes, I do. You're one of the smartest and most capable people I've ever met."
Piper caught her breath. "Thank you," she said sincerely.
"Do you like the car?" Bailey asked quickly.
"Very much, although I haven't had a chance to engage ludicrous speed. I don't think Debra would appreciate it," Piper said amused.
"Probably not, I took care of your car it's in the backyard like you asked."
"Thanks a lot. Nanny will be home tomorrow, I'll have to call her and tell her why it's back there," Piper thought aloud. "That reminds me, did you watch your movie yet?"
"No," Bailey said remembering. "I'll watch it when I get off the phone with you."
Piper giggled. "I'll call you tomorrow, let me know what you think."
"Alright," Bailey said agreeably.
"I need to grab a shower and something to eat, talk to you tomorrow?"
"Okay."
"Sleep well,"
"You too," Bailey said and listened until Piper hung up.
She put the phone back in her pocket and with a little grin she ambled to the kitchen to make some popcorn in the microwave. She grabbed a Pepsi from the refrigerator when it was done and padded back to her bedroom, making a mental note to do some laundry and put her spare clothes back in the GTO when she pulled the videotape out of her bag and crossed the room to put it in the VCR. Grabbing the remote off of the nightstand, she seated herself cross-legged on the end of the bed and placed the bowl of popcorn in her lap.
She pointed the remote at the television and turned it on as she chewed on her popcorn, chuckling a little when the title came up on the screen. She watched with interest for a few minutes before her eyes slowly widened to the size of pie plates and her mouth dropped open to rest on her chest. Blushing a bright crimson, she hurriedly
shot up from the bed, spilling her popcorn as she ran over to slam her bedroom door shut. This time she warily approached the television and watched cautiously from a distance, as if afraid to get too close to the screen. She alternately blushed and gaped at the displayed images and twice she moved all the way to the corner of her bedroom to watch from as far away as possible before slowly, and very guardedly venturing forward again.
When the movie ended, she clicked off the television and put her hand over her eyes. "Oh my God," she whispered quietly.
She took a few minutes to compose herself as the tape rewound and clutching her teddy in her lap, she sat back down on the foot of the bed to watch the movie again.
VII
Stains on the carpet and stains on the memory.
- R. Smith
Bailey emerged from her bedroom the next morning and proceeded directly to her home office to make travel arrangements. She sat down at her computer and punched a number into the keyboard, watching the monitor until it was answered.
"Yes, ma'am," a deep male voice answered.
"I need to make some travel arrangements."
"What kind and when?"
"Helicopter to New Orleans on Thursday and back on Sunday."
"I can do that," the man said. "Pay for the fuel times two and the pilot's expenses?"
"Deal."
"Gimme the details."
"Pick up on the roof of C-Corp in the business district Thursday at 11:00am return to the roof Sunday afternoon or evening."
"Alright."
"Where does the pilot need to berth? I need to arrange pick up on arrival."
"I'll have to check, can you hold for a few?"
"Sure."
She leaned back in her chair and shook a cigarette out of the pack on her desk, smoking half of it by the time he returned to the phone.
"New Orleans Lakefront."
"Good enough, I may need transportation on standby for the next few weeks and a pilot that can be deaf, dumb, and blind."
"I'll take care of it, give me a call when you need it," he said. "I can have a copter pick you up anywhere in Atlanta within twenty minutes."
"That's perfect, I'll let you know," she said with satisfaction. "Transportation will be available Thursday by 11:00, correct?"
"Count on it," he said. "By the way, did my last piece of info help you out any?"
"Yes it did. Was there a problem with the payment?"
"Not at all. I thought Fisher was dirty."
"He was."
"You'll have your copter on Thursday, contact me if you need anything else."
"I'll do that. Thanks, Thumper," she said and hung up.
----------
Thumper Washington, who's real name was a closely guarded secret, was a bald and mountainous black man that stood within inches of seven feet tall, weighing in at over three hundred pounds of solid muscle. He also happened to be the head of one of the largest crime syndicates in the South. It was rumored that the man was afraid of nothing but he knew this wasn't true. In fact, the only thing that scared him was the lady he had just gotten off the phone with. Dressed in a bathrobe and boxer shorts, he sat at his desk and made several phone calls to assure himself that she was accommodated before he leaned back in his chair. He still felt a shiver run down his back when he thought of the only time he had seen her face to face.
He had been playing cards in the back room of his favorite nightclub, his favorite only because it had been the first he had acquired, when he heard the music stop out front and he was informed that he had a visitor. A visitor that had asked for him by name, his real name.
"You know I don't take visitors, Jamie."
"I think you better take this one," Jamie said seriously.
"Why the fuck would I want to do that? Who is it?"
"A white lady," Jamie said and winced.
"What?" he said almost bolting from his chair before he caught himself. "How the fuck did a white lady get past the door?"
"She took them both out," Jamie said and winced again.
He stood from his chair so fast that it crashed on the floor behind him. "She killed them?"
"No, just fucked them up," Jamie said. "She dropped them both like they weren't there, walked in and asked for you. She's waiting at the bar."
He picked up his chair and looked at the faces gathered around the table, noting that all of them displayed a mixture of surprise and admiration. His thoughts mirrored the expressions of the others, being more than a little impressed that a white woman had the balls to walk into a black only nightclub, take out the doormen, and patiently wait to see him.
"What's she look like?" he asked curiously.
"Spooky," Jamie said gravely.
He shrugged. "Show her in, the rest of you morons get frosty," he said to the five bodyguards he brought with him every time he went out in public. He caught Jamie by the arm as the man turned to go. "And tell them to start the music back up."
He waited patiently until he heard the music start and Jamie came back into the room leading a remarkably attractive young woman dressed from head to toe in black and sporting a long raven ponytail tied up on the top of her head. He met the woman's black eyes and knew, knew with a clarity he had rarely experienced, that unless he was extremely careful, his death had just walked into the room.
He nodded to one of his men to search her and was surprised to hear an Irish voice.
"No," she said. "I'll talk to you privately, please."
Despite of himself his temper got the better of him and he got angry, he couldn't believe a white woman, a white Irish woman, had the fucking nerve to walk into one of his clubs, fuck up the guys at the door and issue directives to him.
"You'll be searched or we don't have anything to talk about," he said with as much menace as he could muster, his men starting to take up positions in a circle around her.
"No one touches me. I'm here to talk business with you alone," she said calmly.
With all of his instincts screaming at him to do as she said, his pride won in the end. "Search the bitch and throw her out," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
His balls jumped into the back of his throat as a katana flashed into her right hand from the back of her jacket and she exploded into motion. The blade sang through the air about her so fast that he almost dismissed it as an illusion. In the span of a heartbeat, she stepped away from his five dead or dying bodyguards and glided towards him. One of his card playing companions had managed to draw his gun and swing it in her direction, but before it could be trained on her, she ripped the gun from his hand in a casual motion, throwing it forcefully behind her to strike Jamie violently in the forehead, who had been standing by the door and in the process of drawing his own weapon. She clamped her left hand around the throat of the man who had drawn on her and came away with his Adams apple, which she let drop to the floor as he gurgled and slid lifelessly under the table.
"I'll speak with you now, privately please," she said politely.
The survivors all got quickly out of their seats without so much as a nod from him and began to flee from the room.
"No visitors and trying to surprise me would be outstandingly stupid," she said with her eyes trained on him as the men started to leave the room.
"Do exactly as she says," he ordered with a look at Jamie who was beginning to pick himself up off the floor. Jamie nodded groggily and with a hand pressed to his profusely bleeding forehead, he exited the room.
He watched as she sat down in one of the now empty chairs and placed the bloody katana on the table in front of her.
"Your handkerchief, please," she said.
He reached into his jacket with a hand that he couldn't quite keep from trembling and handed her his handkerchief, which she used to wipe off her gloves and clean the blade of the katana. His breath began to become a little forced as it became obvious that the woman scared the shit out of him. He had seen men kill many times for a variety of reasons but he had never se
en anyone kill so emotionlessly or so efficiently. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd gotten a glimpse of something extraordinary, a memory he was positive he'd rather not have. He watched her toss the now bloody handkerchief to the floor and his eyes came up tentatively to meet hers.
"From time to time, I'll need things," she began drilling him with her eyes. "Things you can provide for me. Things you will provide for me. I'll pay your price for any merchandise or services I might require. However, I'll deal only with you; no go between, no middleman. Anything that you might provide for me stays between you and I. Betray me in the slightest, and you'll see me again. An occasion you won't live to lament. Do as I ask and it'll be profitable for the both of us. Any questions?"
"None," he said in perfect understanding.
She slid a card across the table. "That's my last name and the number you can contact me on."
"Alright."
"I'll need you to give me an account number that I can wire money into if and when I require something and a contact number from you as well," she said. "If I call the number you give me one time and someone besides you answers, I'll consider it a betrayal."
"I'll get a phone that only you have the number to, can I call this number in the morning and give you the information you asked for?" he asked gesturing to the card she had given him.
"Yes, I'll expect to hear from you no later than 11:00," she said rising from her chair. He watched as the katana disappeared into the back of her jacket and she turned to leave the way she had come.
"Wait," he said before she walked through the door and she turned back in his direction. He reached for his phone and dialed the club number.
"Let me talk to Jamie, right now," he told the bartender who had answered the phone and he waited all of five seconds for Jamie to pick up. "She's coming out, make sure no one fucks with her. Understand?"
"Goodnight, Linus," she said in parting and walked through the door.
The incident had taken place two and half years ago and during that time he had dealt with her perhaps a couple of dozen times. She was always polite and never bargained price with him, although she probably wasn't aware that he was afraid to tack on anything but a marginal profit.
Stories by Kiera Dellacroix Page 27
