Jackie collins, p.43

Jackie Collins, page 43

 

Jackie Collins
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  "So we'll double it. How's that?"

  She glanced over at him. "You know, Nick, you're really strange."

  "Oh, so now I'm strange. What's this leading up to?"

  "Can I be honest with you?" she asked earnestly.

  "You can be whatever you like," he replied, pulling into a Chevron

  station.

  "It's just that sometimes it seems you're coming on to me, and then

  other times you act as if you're my brother."

  Oh, shit-the last thing he needed was Annie developing a crush on

  him.

  But then again, why not? DeVille was long gone and he was bored with

  the endless stream of one-night stands he could have any time he

  wanted.

  "Are you interested in me or not?" she asked, putting it firmly on the

  line.

  He stalled for time. "Is this a proposition?" he said lightly,

  winding down his window.

  "I. . . I need to know."

  "Hey, I'm here with you, we're driving to Vegas."

  "Is that your idea of a commitment?"

  Commitment! The very word gave him nightmares. What was it with women

  and commitments? Why couldn't they take it day by day?

  The gas station attendant leaned into his window-saving him a reply.

  "What'll it be?" the old man asked, scratching his grizzled beard.

  "Fill her up," Nick said. "An' check the oil an' water while you're at

  it."

  "Well?" Annie demanded, not letting him off the hook.

  He took his time before replying. "We're going' on a trip," he said

  carefully. "Whyn't we take it nice an' easy and maybe we'll find

  out."

  Reece Webster sat back in the smoky atmosphere of the small casino bar

  and watched Cyndra sing. She was good. She was really good. So how

  come she wasn't getting anywhere? The record labels hadn't liked the

  deal he'd proposed, and the bigger hotels had said she needed

  experience. Experience, goddamn it! He was giving her experience, and

  what kind of thanks was he getting? Exactly nothing. Cyndra had no

  appreciation of the things he did for her.

  Well, what did he expect? Women were all takers and Cyndra was no

  exception.

  He hoped he hadn't wasted his time marrying her. He'd been so sure she

  was going to be his ride to the big time-now all he did was pay the

  bills. The money she made at the casino didn't even cover his

  expenses. Some dud investment. He'd put two years into singing

  lessons and grooming and it simply wasn't paying off.

  His narrow eyes raked the room. Several men were watching Cyndra with

  that look on their faces. Reece knew the look well. It was the I

  wanna fuck your brains out look.

  He studied her dress. Not sexy enough. She needed more cleavage and

  maybe a deep slit in the skirt. She had great tits and long legs.

  He'd have to deal with that. He'd have to pay for it too.

  Cyndra was beginning to remind him of his first wife. That bitch had

  dragged him down like a lead weight, all she'd been capable of was

  grabbing everything he had. Now Cyndra was falling into the same

  category, and it was about time he did something about collecting on

  his investment.

  The other night he'd overheard a couple of guys talking while Cyndra

  was on stage. "I wouldn't mind a piece of that," one of them had

  said.

  "Yeah, with gravy all over it!" the other one replied.

  Reece had sidled over. "Wanna meet the little lady?" he'd offered.

  Cause if you d0, I'm the man can arrange it."

  Both men had nodded eagerly, so Reece had negotiated a deal. The

  problem was he'd forgotten to tell Cyndra, and when he'd sat her down

  with the two guys and they came on to her she insulted them both. The

  men were real riled uand who could blame them?

  Much to his chagrin he'd had to return their money.

  So what the hell was wrong with a little light hooking on the side?

  Convincing Cyndra was a bitch. Except that today he'd asserted

  himself-put the fear of God into her. That's what women expected-a

  little fear in their lives. They had to know who the boss was.

  Sipping his malt whiskey he scoped out likely prospects, focusing on a

  stocky man sitting alone at a corner table watching Cyndra like he'd

  just discovered candy for the first time. The man was middleaged with

  a florid complexion. A brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and open

  sandals on his feet announced tourist.

  Casually Reece wandered over. "Howdy," he said, tipping his cownv }it

  The man looked up. "Do I know you?"

  "No," Reece said, "but I got a strong suspicion you'd like to."

  "Get your homo ass away from me," the man said, his florid face

  reddening even more.

  "You got it wrong," Reece replied, scowling. "I ain't that way. I

  came over here t'do you a favor."

  "What favor?" the man asked suspiciously.

  Reece gestured toward Cyndra. "Y'see that little lady standing up

  there? She's what I got in mind for you, but if insults is what I

  getthen we got no more conversation." He turned to go.

  "Wait a minute," the man said.

  Reece stopped. "You interested or not?"

  The man glanced around furtively. "I'm interested," he said, lowering

  his voice. "How much will it cost me?"

  "Did you win or did you lose? Cause if you lost you can't afford this

  baby."

  "I won at craps."

  "Then you're a lucky son of a gun, cause she's gonna cost you two

  hundred and fifty."

  The man licked his lips and thought quickly. His flabby wife was

  upstairs sleeping off the effects of winning at the slots. His snotty

  teenage son was out chasing girls. This was the opportunity of a

  lifetime and he didn't want to blow it. But two hundred and fifty

  bucks was an awful lot of money, he could buy a second television for

  that much money. "I . . . I don't know," he said hesitantly.

  "You don't know," Reece repeated, as if he couldn't believe what he was

  heaiing. "You got a chance for a piece o' that and you don't know?"

  Sweat beaded the man's thick neck. "Is she good?" he asked

  hoarsely.

  "Is she worth it?"

  Reece tilted his cowboy hat even further back on his head. "Are you

  shittin' me? Does Kentucky give fried chicken? Does Cadillac give the

  smoothest ride going'? Man, this little lady is the best you ever

  had."

  They came upon Las Vegas like a shimmering jewel sitting in the middle

  of the desert. It was dark and they'd been driving for hours without

  any light at all. Now in the distance they saw the city spread out

  before them and it was a startling sight.

  "It's incredible!" Annie gasped.

  Nick grinned. "I told you-you gotta get out an' do things. No good

  sittin' on your ass all day expecting. . . I dunno-" He looked at her

  quizzically. "What do you expect, Annie?"

  She shrugged. "I work hard, go to class . . one of these days I'll

  get a break."

  "Yeah, I guess that's what we all think." He pulled the car over to

  the side of the road, sliding his arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad

  you came.

  "So am I."

  They were silent for a while, staring at the mirage ahead-at least

  that's what it looked like in the middle of the barren desert. Finally

  he broke the silence. "I never asked you before-where's your

  family?"

  "They're in Florida, where I grew up. I left three years ago and took

  the bus out to L.A." She snuggled closer. "What about you? Cyndra's

  never talked about your family. Where are your parents? Do you have

  any other brothers or sisters?"

  He drew away from her on the pretext of reaching for a cigarette.

  "No sad stories," he said, shaking loose a Camel. "Cyndra and mewe got

  a father in common, a real charmer. Neither of us has seen him in

  years.

  "You don't speak to him?"

  "Nope."

  "That's a shame. Family is all we really have."

  "Yeah, well, you ain't met mine," he said flippantly.

  "What about your mother?"

  He struck a match and lit up. "She died when I was sixteen. Left

  me.

  "She didn't leave you, Nick," Annie said softly. "Dying is not exactly

  making a" He didn't need to dredge up any more memories, it was painful

  enough without having to talk about it.

  "Hey, can we quit this conversation? Let's appreciate what we got in

  front of us. Take a look at that view!"

  "It's beautiful," she murmured.

  "Yph "lip icI taftin the car. "Let's o et us a Diece of it."

  "This is my friend," Reece said.

  Cyndra nodded, not looking anywhere near the man in the Hawaiian

  shirt.

  "My good friend," Reece added, in case she hadn't quite gotten the

  message.

  "Uh-huh," she said dully.

  The man nudged Reece. "When we getting' out of here?" he asked,

  perspiration beading his forehead. "It's not good for me to be seen

  with you people. Where we going anyway?"

  "Close by," Reece replied reassuringly.

  "You're not like those con people I seen on TV?" the man said

  anxiously. "They lure you to a room with a girl, take your money and

  beat up on you.

  Reece tipped his cowboy hat. "Do I look like a con man?" he said, his

  lip curling. "Does she look like a con woman? Don't worry, partner.

  You are about to have the dream trip of your life."

  Cyndra caught snatches of the conversation. She knew what Reece

  expected, he'd made that very clear, but she still couldn't believe

  it.

  "Okay, lion," Reece said, all nice and friendly. "Let's go so you an'

  this fine gentleman can get to know each other better."

  "I'm warning you," she hissed under her breath, just loud enough for

  him to hear. "I'm not doing this."

  His hand strayed toward his belt. "Cooperate, lion. I told you this

  mornin'-I been carryin' you too long, it's about time you gave

  something back."

  The three of them walked out of the casino into the parking lot, where

  the humid night air enveloped them like a heavy cloud.

  She wondered what Reece would do when she refused to go through with

  this. He'd probably blow her head off-he was crazy enough.

  But still, he wouldn't be in the room watching them, and once he left

  she'd tell the guy the position she was in-appeal to his better

  nature.

  He looked like a family man, although he sure didn't smell like one.

  He stunk of beer. She shuddered-his smell reminded her of Primo.

  They drove to the motel in Reece's shocking pink Cadillac. By the time

  they got there the man was sweating even more profusely.

  Take my license number," Reece suggested, sensing that this dude could

  back off at any moment. "It'll make you feel more secure.

  "No, no, I trust you," the man said, although he didn't. "How'm I

  gonna get back?"

  "I'll stay around," Reece said. "Whistle when you're done an' I'll

  drive you.

  Cyndra got out of the car and stood stiffly beside it.

  "Get your cute little butt to the room, honey," Reece said coaxingly.

  "An' don't forget t'leave the door open for our friend." He waited

  until she was out of sight and then snapped his fingers, it was time

  for business. "Gotta have cash," he said. "No cash, no pussy.

  The word "pussy" turned the man on. Feverishly he counted out several

  large bills.

  Reece checked it through twice. When he was satisfied he said, "Room

  eight, near the pool." Then he winked. "Do the double loop for me,

  partner, compliments of the house."

  When Cyndra reached their room she thought about locking the door. But

  she knew it wouldn't work-if she didn't let the man in Reece would only

  kick the door down.

  She was pretty, she was young, she had talent-why hadn't her career

  taken off? If it had, everything would be all right. Reece was doing

  this to punish her. How about divorcing him? a little voice whispered

  in her ear. How about getting out while I still can? But she knew it

  was hopeless, he'd never let her go unless she paid back every cent

  he'd spent on her.

  There was a knock on the door. Swallowing hard, she smoothed down her

  dress, walked over and threw it open.

  The man barged past her into the room, his Hawaiian shirt sticking to

  his chest. "Let's do this quick," he blurted. "I'm about ready-so

  hurry it up.

  "I'll fix you a drink," she said, stalling for time. "There's a Coke

  machine down the hall and we got Scotch or vodka. What'll it be?"

  "Nothing," he said, already fumbling with the buttons on his fly.

  She noticed the gleam of a wedding ring on his finger. "Does your wife

  know you're doing this?" she asked sharply.

  He stopped short. "What's my wife got to do with anything?"

  "I . . . I just wondered, that's all."

  His eyes darted around the room, settling on the bed. "I do it the Ir

  he announced. "Whyn't you lie back and take a conventional girl," she

  replied quickly, continuing to conventional way, your clothes off?"

  "I'm not stall.

  "I don't got all night," he said, glancing at his watch.

  "If you'd sooner forget it . . ." she ventured.

  He jumped to attention at that. "I paid good money for you."

  "How much?"

  "What's it to you?"

  His words infuriated her. "It's me you're supposed to fuck, isn't

  it?"

  He reached over, pinching her left nipple through her dress. "I'm not

  used to women talkin' dirty."

  She shrunk away. She was no hooker and she wasn't about to act like

  one. If Reece wanted to blow her head off, then so be it. "There's

  been a mistake," she said, her voice a dull monotone.

  His eyes began to bug. "What mistake?"

  In the same flat voice she said, "I don't do this sort of thing."

  "But I was told-" "I don't care what you were told. Zip up your pants

  and get out of here. Go home to your wife."

  Without any warning he burst into tears. "I knew I shouldn'ta come

  here," he sobbed. "I knew it was a bad thing to do."

  Cyndra was taken aback, she'd expected a violent reaction, not this.

  "Look," she said, showing some compassion. "I'll get Reece to drive

  you back to the casino. He doesn't have to know nothing happened."

  The man continued to sob.

  "We'll tell him it was the greatest. That way we'll both come out of

  this okay-you'll look like a real stud and I won't get my head bashed

  in." Gently she began steering him to the door. "It'll work out,

  you'll see. We'll-" With a sudden spurt of anger he threw her arm off

  and choked out a frustrated "What about my money?"

  "I can't help you with that."

  "I paid good money for you. I want it back."

  "You'll have to ask Reece, and if you ask him he's gonna know."

  The man seemed to have recovered from his crying jag. Now he was

  red-faced and angry. "I want my money," he said stubbornly.

 

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