Night Work

by Greg F. Gifune

  Beth gave him a cross look. "Try not to scare the guests, okay?" Sal turned back down the hallway, stopping in the bathroom before returning to the living room. "Obviously Sal can be crude at times, and he's been known to have a rather peculiar sense of humor, but he's harmless, I guess."

  "He's kind of creepy," Sandy said.

  She watched Sandy as if expecting her to continue. When she didn't, Beth said, "So, you're a receptionist?"

  "At a bank."

  "Do you enjoy it?"

  "Not especially."

  Both women laughed, and began to prepare the food.

  ***

  In the living room Frank and Steve were huddled near the bar. "How's the back holding up?"

  "Some days are better than others, brother."

  "How about the club?"

  "It's taking up more and more of my time. We're packing them in though. I didn't plan to still be in the wrestling game at this point, but it's hard to walk away from the money I'm making, even as a manager." Steve mixed himself a fresh drink. "Charlie tells me you guys are tearing things up on the independent circuit."

  Frank sipped his drink. "Can't complain."

  "I've been trying to convince Steve to work part-time at the school," Luther said, joining them at the bar. "I could use some help with training, but he's too busy watching all those sloppy asses bounce in that dive he's running."

  Steve laughed. "There isn't a sloppy ass in the bunch. They're tight, brother. And I mean tight."

  "Why don't you guys go light the grill," Charlie said.

  As though commanded, Sal opened the blinds concealing one of the sliding glass doors. He cautiously peered around the large deck and adjacent swimming pool as if expecting to find intruders.

  Steve caught Frank staring at Sal and nudged him gently with his elbow. "He's cool," he said quietly. "He's with me."

  "If you say so." Frank shrugged. People like Steve always had partners, not the kind anyone ever saw or heard of, but rather the kind who sent men like Sal to tag along and watch over their interests.

  As Sal slipped quietly outside, Charlie escorted Frank, Steve and Luther to the kitchen. He removed a waxy brown box from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. "Ain't it amazing," he said, "what'll fall off the back of a truck." He opened the box to reveal a dozen slick red, thick London broil steaks.

  "It's magic, Charlie," Beth said, lighting a cigarette.

  Charlie kissed Beth's cheek as he left the kitchen, taking the steaks with him to the grill outside. It was a strange kiss, Sandy thought, an aggressive peck that seemed almost mean.

  The afternoon had mysteriously ended and evening had arrived. Like boys at a summer camp, the three men stood in front of the gas grill tossing lit matches at it until it exploded with a ball of fire and a fierce popping sound. Sal stood off to the side, watching them without comment.

  While the steaks sizzled, Frank headed back to the bar to get himself a fresh drink. He found Sandy in the doorway to the kitchen. "Having a good time?"

  "The more I drink the more comfortable I get," she said softly. "They're different, but everyone seems nice. Except for Sal. What a weirdo."

  "I know what you mean."

  "Beth says he's harmless."

  "I'm sure he is." Frank winked and moved across the room.

  Sal had meanwhile been abandoned on the deck. He watched the grill with a disinterested expression, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Everyone had had quite a bit to drink, and most of the conversations were either dying down or becoming somewhat forced, artificial and dull.

  "I think it's time to breathe a little life into this sucker," Steve said from the couch.

  "Ooo," Claire said, crossing the room and joining him there. "Is it that time already?"

  Pepper removed several small glass vials and a credit card from her purse, handed them to Steve then sat on the floor next to a coffee table in front of the couch. Steve emptied a generous pile of cocaine onto the table and began separating it into thin lines with the credit card.

  Frank's eyes immediately shifted to Sandy. She was standing by the bar chatting with Charlie and Beth. Frank was used to seeing drug use - it was rampant on the road - but he could tell by the expression on Sandy's face that she was attempting to mask her discomfort.

  "Who's getting in on this?" Steve asked.

  Luther joined the others around the couch. Beth turned to Sandy. "Interested?"

  "I don't think so." Sandy smiled nervously. "I haven't done coke since high school."

  "That's okay," Charlie said, slipping his arm around her shoulder. "You and I can be the odd ones out."

  Beth smiled, her eyes softened by the liquor. "Charlie used to put half the state of California up his nose. I'm sure he'd love to tell you all about it."

  "How about you, Frank?" Steve asked.

  Pepper leaned forward, purposely making her eye-catching cleavage more accessible to Frank, who had been inadvertently standing above her. "Yeah, how about it? Want some?"

  "Maybe later," Frank said.

  "That's cool." Steve rolled up a dollar bill and bent over to snort a line. "No pressure. We're all friends."

  "It's here if you want it." Pepper smiled.

  Fearful that Sandy might become angry, Frank joined her and Charlie at the bar. "You two look shit-faced."

  "Isn't everybody?" Charlie grinned.

  Frank thrust his empty glass at him. "Fix me another one."

  "Is he this bossy at home?" Charlie asked Sandy.

  "Much worse."

  As Charlie removed his arm from her shoulder, his fingers gently brushed her behind. "I like her," he told Frank. "Why she settled for you I have no idea, but I like her."

  "I think I'd like to get some air," Sandy said, her eyes smoldering and locked on Frank.

  He followed Sandy out to the deck. Sal greeted them with a courteous nod and they continued on until they had reached the edge of the pool. A single floodlight illuminated the area. "What's the matter?" Frank asked her, his voice too low for Sal to hear.

  "You were right," she said, hugging herself. "These people are a little too far out for me."

  "I thought you were getting along with everyone just fine." Frank moved closer. "It looked to me like you were having a good time. What happened?"

  "I just don't think I like the direction this party is headed in."

  "You mean the drugs?"

  "No," she said purposefully. "I don't mean the drugs." Frank stared at her blankly. "If this is what you meant by not wanting to expose me to the people you work with then - "

  "Honey," he interrupted in a tone he hoped was soothing, "what the hell are you talking about?"

  "Are you going to stand there and tell me that you had no idea what scene these people are into?"

  Frank lit a cigarette and offered her one, but she refused. "I suspected," he admitted quietly. "But I didn't know for sure."

  "How many drinks have you had?"

  Frank shrugged. "Too many."

  "Can you drive?"

  "If I have to."

  "Because I'm not sure I can."

  He moved over to the railing and gazed into the woods. "Do you want to leave?"

  Her response was not immediate. "Do you?"

  He faced her. "It's up to you."

  Sandy bit her lower lip. "As usual, you've come through with flying colors."

  "What does that mean?"

  "That was the wrong answer, Frank," she snapped, her voice breaking. "That's what it fucking means."

  Frank pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Please don't get upset. If you want to leave, we'll leave."

  "The right answer is: Yes honey, I want to leave."

  "Fine, no problem, let's leave."

  Her eyes searched his. "What the hell's happened to you?"

  "For Christ's sake, no matter what I say it's wrong."

  "You just don't get it."

  Frank sighed. "Come on, we'll blame everything on me. I'll tell
Charlie I'm not feeling well and we'll take off. We can stop, get a few cups of coffee somewhere and I'll be fine."

  Sandy's face slowly twisted into an expression he had never before seen. "No," she said, spitting the word at him. "I think I want to stay."

  Before he could reach her she'd crossed into the kitchen. Frank ran his hands through his hair and tried to shake off the effects of all the alcohol he'd consumed. He noticed that most of the steaks had begun to burn, but no one seemed to care, including the man left in their charge.

  "Girl problems?" Sal asked flatly.

  Frank looked at the steaks. "Those things are about as dead as they're gonna get."

  Sal shrugged. "I told Charlie they were burning. He said he didn't think anybody was hungry anyway. It don't matter to me one way or the other."

  When Frank returned to the living room, Sandy was sitting on the couch, sandwiched between Beth and Steve. He hesitated, watched his wife inhale a line of coke and then sit back as it hit her system. Steve looked over at him and smiled. "I guess she changed her mind."

  "She's a big girl," Frank said, forcing a smile.

  "Have you changed your mind?" Pepper asked, moving behind Frank, her breasts pressing against his back.

  Frank ran a finger through one of the lines then put it in his mouth, brushing it back and forth under his upper lip. His gum line was completely numb by the time he reached the bar. "Where's that drink I ordered?" Charlie handed the glass across the counter to him. Frank gulped it down and handed it back. "Thank you. I'll have another."

  Charlie laughed. "I'm not about to fuck with a guy who can do that."

  "Doesn't that bother you?" Frank motioned to the cocaine on the coffee table. "Isn't it sort of like drinking in front of an alcoholic?"

  Charlie handed him a fresh drink. "At my lowest point I was sitting on a park bench in L.A. I hadn't had a bath in more than a month - hadn't eaten in God knows how long. With a gun to my head I couldn't have told you where I was or even what the hell my name was. If it hadn't been for the cops busting me and forcing me into rehab, I'd be dead now. Whenever I get the feeling I might relapse, I remember that moment. The temptation leaves me like shit through a goose, my friend. Shit through a fucking goose. Nothing is worth going through that again. Nicotine and booze are all the drugs I need."

  Pepper slid into the chair at the bar next to Frank. "Did somebody say boobs?"

  "Watch out for this one," Charlie warned with a chuckle. "A woman like Pepper could ruin a man, if he's lucky."

  "Wanna buy me a drink?" she asked Frank.

  Frank glanced over his shoulder. Luther and Claire had started dancing again. Sal had returned from the deck and was sitting in a chair, his eyes taking everything in, and Sandy was still on the couch with Steve and Beth, each of them taking turns snorting lines from a fresh pile of coke. "Sure," he said, turning to Charlie. "One of whatever the lady wants, on me."

  "Lady? Who the hell let a lady in here?"

  Pepper hissed at him like a cornered cat and Frank felt her arm wrap around his back and fasten onto his shoulder. Charlie gave her the drink and left them alone. Frank could hear laughter behind him, but his mind was quickly fogging over and he feared for a moment that he might lose control. Steve seemed to materialize out of thin air to his left, the acrid smell of pot wafting all around him. They passed the joint between them twice, and Steve wandered off without ever saying a word.

  "Are you as high as you look?" Pepper asked.

  "Probably a little worse."

  "Me too, let's get some air."

  They made a quick stop at the coffee table and shared another line. Steve was looking through a tall rack of CDs, trying to decide which one to play next. Luther and Claire continued to dance until Charlie cut in. Unfazed, Luther strode to the bar. Beth and Sandy were still on the couch giggling like schoolgirls, oblivious to everyone else.

  "Come on," Pepper said, tugging at Frank's arm.

  The room titled and swayed more than once on their way to the deck, and once they arrived the cool air felt good.

  Sandy watched them go then looked to Beth. "I don't think Pepper likes me."

  "You're a woman, aren't you?" Beth smiled. "That's enough."

  "She does look sort of - "

  "Plastic," Beth interjected. "I can spot a pair of fake tits from across the room."

  ***

  Frank leaned back against the railing and lit a cigarette, watching Pepper as she removed the sash from her waist and tossed it aside. She moved closer, her nipples and a black smudge of pubic hair visible through the thin material of the bodysuit. As if in slow motion she plucked the cigarette from his lips, took a drag herself before crushing it under the sole of her boot, then wrapped her arms around Frank's neck. Their faces touched, and her tongue found his ear.

  The top portion of the bodysuit peeled down to her midriff easily. Pepper's breasts tumbled free in sections until Frank felt the tips of each between his fingers. He pushed on the small of her back and she arched it, thrusting her chest upward, twisting at the waist so he could take each breast into his mouth. She moaned, threw her head back and snaked one of her legs around his. They nearly fell, and she began to laugh.

  "Maybe we should turn the flood light out," she suggested with slurred speech. "Or do you want to go back inside?"

  "Go back inside?" Frank heard himself ask, heart racing.

  She smiled, brushed a wisp of hair from her face. "Some couples only play - they don't go all the way. I don't know how far you and Sandy go."

  The sound of his wife's name startled him and he had a sudden desire to find her. "This is just fun and games to you, isn't it?"

  "Of course."

  "Of course?"

  "How can anybody take something like sex seriously?" she giggled.

  Frank watched as she slid one hand beneath the bodysuit and between her legs. "Maybe we should go inside," he said.

  "Are you sure?" Pepper reached out with her free hand and massaged his crotch, her eyes widening. "I don't think he wants to."

  His face twitched into something that felt like a smile. "Go ahead. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

  Pepper leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. He allowed her tongue between his lips and responded with his own. "Don't be long," she whispered, then glided back through the sliding doors and into the house, not bothering to cover herself.

  Frank slowly made his way to one of the chairs on the deck and collapsed into it. Time, it seemed, had lost all meaning, and he sat quietly with his blurred thoughts.

  "Are you all right?" a voice asked.

  Frank looked up, hoping to see Sandy's face but finding Charlie's instead. "Yeah. I'm just really fucked up."

  "Figured I better check in on you. You've been out here quite a while."

  "I can't remember the last time I did coke," Frank told him, feeling as if the words had taken on lives of their own and were tumbling from his mouth without his approval. "Hell, I can't remember the last time I smoked a joint."

  "You sure you're okay?"

  "I just need a few minutes to get my head together."

  "Pepper really likes you."

  "I sort of figured that out."

  Charlie grinned lasciviously. "Trust me, don't pass that up. It's not too often you get a chance to fuck a real live Barbie."

  Frank nearly fumbled his cigarette bringing it up to his mouth. "Have you had her?"

  "Couple times. She fucks like a bunny." Charlie lit a cigarette, handed it to Frank and lit another for himself. "As open-minded as Beth is she's not half as wild in bed as Pepper is. How about Sandy? I'll bet she throws a good one."

  "Why don't you go ahead and take Pepper off my hands?"

  "You really are wasted." Charlie shook his head and sat in a chair across from Frank. "What do you think of Claire?"

  "Not my type."

  Charlie took a hard pull on his cigarette. "What about Beth?"

  "Very nice."

  "Thanks," Char
lie said, as if Frank had just complimented him on his wardrobe. "I think Sandy's fucking gorgeous."

  Frank's eyes found him through a cloud of smoke. "So do I."

  Charlie let the statement hang in the air for a while before he spoke again. "Remember that time you asked me if I ever partied with Delta Diamond or any of the other girls?"

  "You told me you never shit where you eat."

  "Do you think this is the same thing, though? I mean, we're business partners and all, but aren't we friends, too?"

  "I don't know, Charlie. Are we?"

  "I'm trying to be cool about this," he said. "Sandy was pretty uptight when you guys first got here, but she's really loosened up. Shit, she's wasted worse than you are. I can't tell if she's fooling around or really looking to get into it. I danced with her a couple times, rubbed a little ass, squeezed a little tit and she didn't seem to mind, but… hey, you think she'd go skinny-dipping?"

  Frank drew a deep breath. "I doubt it."

  "The pool's a great way to get things going," he said, licking his lips. "Some broads get all worked up once they're naked. It might make it easier for Sandy to get into it."

  "And what if she does get into it?"

  Charlie nervously cleared his throat. "Then… you know, whatever."

  Frank's chest felt like someone was sitting on it. "You're asking for permission to fuck my wife?"

  "Yeah." Charlie fidgeted in his chair. "I guess I am."

  "Then you're asking the wrong person."

  "Out of respect, I wanted to talk to you first."

  "Respect."

  "Hell, it's no problem if you wanna take a shot at Beth."

  "What a guy."

  "Trust me," Charlie said, "you won't be disappointed."

  "This is your wife we're talking about."

  "And if I don't mind her playing around with somebody else from time to time, why the hell should you?"

  Frank looked at him. "I don't."

  "Listen," Charlie said, pulling his patio chair closer, "Beth and I understand each other. We don't always like each other, but we do understand each other. When I'm with someone else, or she sees a body that turns her on, whatever happens, it's just sex. It's not love - shit, it's got nothing to do with love. It's sex for the fucking fun of it. You know what I'm saying?"