“Rocco here yet?”
“He and the boys are in the locker room.”
“Good.”
Tobin walked a short way along the corridor to a room that adjoined the private lounge. He entered a room lined with metal lockers that would not have looked out of place at any workout club.
“Boss, what ya got for us?”
Rocco stood with one foot planted on a bench, wearing a sleeveless red shirt and black shorts. Tobin always marvelled at the shape he was in; a bodybuilder’s sculpted muscles, but with none of the grotesquery. Michelangelo would have creamed himself to sculpt Rocco, Tobin thought.
“I say something funny, Boss?” Rocco pushed a hand back over tight, wavy black hair.
“No, I was just thinking of . . . never mind.” Tobin counted heads.
“Okay, Rocco, and we have Ben, Tully, Jim, Teddy. We’re going to need one more; who do we have available who’s bi?”
“Bi?” Rocco asked.
“In this scene hubby gets forced to give a blow job.”
“Hell, he can blow me.”
Every head snapped towards Rocco. “What?” he said.
“You’re not serious.”
“What’s the big deal? You close your eyes it’s just another mouth.”
“I never would have thought.”
“What? Don’t mean I’m gay; I still get to bang the missus, right? I hope she’s as hot as the last one we did.”
“Very . . . if you like that type. It was her idea for hubby to eat dick.”
“Whoa, she sounds like some cat.”
“Claws and all. Well, if you want to do the honours, fine with me. We still need another guy. How about Eric?”
“Eric’s gonna be on the DL for a while. He had knee surgery just last week. Sean’s available.”
“OK, call him for me. I’ll set it up for some time next week and let you know.”
“What’s the scene?” Ben asked.
“Standard . . . you guys ought to know it in your sleep by now. Hubby and wife show up at the bar, you guys move in on the wife, get her on the dance floor, feel her up. She makes token protests. So does hubby, but you put him in his place. Make loud remarks about why she’s married to a wimp. Then just fuck the shit out of her, you know, like real men.”
The guys chuckled.
Tobin told them what their approximate cut would be, eliciting appreciative nods. Then they filed out. Rocco hung back and clapped Tobin on the shoulder; it felt like he’d been hit with a side of beef.
“Jesus!”
“Sorry, boss. That shoulder still giving you trouble?”
“Only when you try to dislocate it.”
Tobin had known Rocco since the night he dragged him out of the wreck that had been his car after a juiced-up soccer mom on her cell phone crashed a van full of kids into it. A paramedic with the Fire Department, Rocco rode with him in the ambulance to the ER. They became friends during that short ride as Rocco told him of his aspirations to be a porn actor, and Tobin unreeled his ideas for turning his barely-making-it saloon into a clandestine sex club.
“Sorry, I wanted to talk to you,” Rocco said.
“Yeah?”
“You heard the city’s likely to lay off some people.”
“I thought you guys and the cops were safe.”
“I think so; meanwhile, I heard from a producer, so I might be heading out to LA.”
“Wow, when?”
“Not for another month . . . maybe. He liked my pictures, but he thought I was a little short.”
“Short? You’re six-two—”
“Not that kinda short.”
“Are they nuts? That schlong of yours is a monster.”
“Average for the business, he said.”
“That’s hard to believe. I always thought they used camera tricks.”
“Anyway, whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for the gigs. The rest of the guys feel the same way. Getting paid for this . . .”
“I thought you guys would be pretty jaded by now.”
“Never . . . you kidding? Anyway, just wanted to tell ya, you’re OK, Greg.”
“Thanks. And you guys are reliable; just stay healthy.”
Tobin made his way back to his office.
“Here’s Flynn’s report on that girl you asked about.” Heidi handed him an envelope.
He sat and slid his finger along the seal and unfolded the contents.
“Hmm, who the hell names their kid Psyche?”
“Huh?”
“This girl told me her name was Kerry . . . Kerry Barnes. Seems she was born Psyche Andersfield. Parents were some kind of intellectuals . . . that explains it. I figured that or old hippies. Orphaned at seventeen, due to parents killed in an accident in Greece. Lived with relatives briefly, then off to fend for herself.”
“Any money from the folks?”
“Not much. She had to go to work. Never went to college. Different secretarial jobs, until she landed at Pharma-Gene and was made executive assistant to our client Evelyn Hasley a short time later. Looks like she’s pulling in some big salary, some resentment in the office . . . that’s to be expected. That’s it.”
“Nice normal girl, then.”
“What’s normal? Anyway, there’s something a little off about this girl. I wonder how she managed to charm Hasley into giving her that big promotion.”
“Why don’t you ask her? She’s been in the lounge since just before you arrived.”
“What?”
“Sipping ginger ales.”
“Jesus.”
“Seems you two are fascinated with each other.” Heidi chuckled.
“Anything on for today?”
“Just Mr Andrews.”
“Our best repeat customer,” Tobin said, shaking his head. “Everything all set up?”
“Little girl’s bedroom, all pink, lots of stuffed animals.”
“And Katie?”
“Getting changed as we speak. I think she genuinely likes him, gets a charge out of the scene, besides the bucks, of course.”
“OK.”
Tobin tossed Flynn’s report into a drawer and went to the lounge. He knew enough to scan the dim corners; then he spotted Kerry.
“OK if I join you?”
She nodded at him to sit down as she sipped her drink through a straw.
“You must have pretty relaxed hours at that job of yours.”
“It was a light day; Ms Hasley told me to take the afternoon off.”
Larry called across the room to him. “Tonic and lime,” Tobin replied.
Larry brought it over. Tobin took a sip.
“You frightened me last night,” Kerry said. “I . . . I didn’t know what to do . . . what you were going to do.”
“You weren’t at all concerned at what those bums would do?”
“I . . . I guess, they wouldn’t do anything.”
“Oh yes they would, if they were jonesing, and they were desperate for a drink. They might rap you across the head, rob you, take anything they might be able to sell or pawn. But the last thing they’d likely do is fuck you.”
“You made that excruciatingly clear.”
“I just wanted to disabuse you of this notion of yours that you can fold real life into a fantasy. The best we can do is play-acting.”
“Are you so sure? Some people believe we lead another life in our dreams just by closing our eyes.”
“And so what if we do? It’s complicated enough keeping track of this life.”
“But you help people to realize their fantasy lives.”
“Not realize, act out. It’s not the same, and for a very good reason.”
“Good reason?”
“Like maybe staying out of jail . . . or shaming your family. Is that good reason enough? I’m like a guy who runs an amusement park, I offer a manufactured thrill.”
“You can transcend that . . . really, you can. You said you would let me know if I could work for you.”
; “OK, first I want you to see something.”
He stood and she followed him along the wall to the hidden corridor. He led her through the locker room and through another door leading to the private lounge.
Kerry stopped to gaze at a bedroom scene set in the centre of the sunken floor, all in juvenile pink. A girl was curled up as if asleep in the bed.
An Asian girl sat at a table in the surrounding gloom. She stood to greet Tobin.
“It’s OK, Susie; I’ll keep an eye on things.”
“OK, Mr Tobin . . . you sure?”
“Yeah, you’re good for the rest of the afternoon. Don’t forget to stop by the office and get your cheque from Heidi.”
“OK, thanks, Mr Tobin.”
“Catch ya later, kid.”
He invited Kerry to sit with him at the table Susie had just vacated.
“I have someone monitor every scene, just in case something goes awry.”
“Like what?”
“Like – so far – nothing, but I can’t take any chances. These things can get pretty emotional, frenzied.”
They watched the girl in the bed for a brief time. A man who appeared to be in his late thirties stepped into the scene. He wore pyjamas.
Tobin whispered. “This guy, he leads a routine life, married, a few kids, house, mortgage, his own consulting business.”
Kerry peered at the man. “What . . . what’s he . . . ?”
“He has a sister, a couple of years older. When they were young kids they shared a bedroom, used to cuddle together when thunderstorms rolled by . . . nothing untoward, just kids being kids. Of course, when they closed in on puberty their parents put an end to those arrangements. Problem is, ever since he’s had this attraction to his sister. He would never act on it, of course, he’s not a creep. But he was having trouble keeping it under control. He was tempted to talk to his sister about it. She’s married with kids, too. He thought it better to keep it under wraps, no matter how much it gnawed at him. But then he blurted out his sister’s name while he was screwing the wife.”
The man stood at the foot of the girl’s bed. “Ellie?”
The girl came awake, rubbing her eyes. “Adam? What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep . . . could I stay with you?”
“But Adam, you’re a big boy now.”
“I know . . . but I miss you.”
“If mom and dad find out we’ll be in big trouble.”
“I’ll be quiet. Please?”
“Oh . . . OK, but just to snuggle, OK?”
The man eagerly slid under the bedclothes with the girl.
Tobin leaned towards Kerry. “After he came to me, it took us almost a year to find a girl who closely resembled his sister, at least enough to make it convincing. Katie’s twenty-seven, but she’s an amazing actress . . . passes for fourteen . . . convincingly.”
“Oh, my, I thought she was fourteen.”
The man and the girl held each other in a tight embrace.
“Adam, don’t do that, it tickles. And it’s naughty.”
“But you feel so nice and soft.”
“My naughty baby brother. Do you want me to take my top off?”
“I want you to take your PJs off.”
“Adam!” But the girl pulled her pyjama top over her head and then squirmed out of her bottoms. The man moaned.
“I shouldn’t touch you there,” the girl said, “but I love how you get all silly.”
“Please, Ellie, rub me faster.”
“Adam . . . Adam . . . please come inside me. Adam, please.”
“Oh, Ellie . . .”
He climbed on top of her. Tobin and Kerry watched the rhythms of sex as neither the girl nor the man uttered anything more other than the moans and sighs of a couple fucking.
The man shuddered and growled, then collapsed onto the girl who embraced him. “My sweet baby brother,” she cooed. They fell into a slumber.
“That’s it,” Tobin said. “That’s all he wants. We can slip out now. He’s always behaved himself.”
He led her back to the public lounge.
“Well, what did you think? Make-pretend incest . . . doesn’t it make you sick?”
“No,” she said. “I thought it was beautiful.”
“Yeah, well, he’s good for another few months; he’ll be able to put his sister out of his mind and pay attention to real life.”
Kerry said nothing.
“Could you fuck, blow someone, pretend to be his sister, daughter, mother? Pretend to be a schoolgirl and let your teacher fuck you?”
“Yes,” she said. “And maybe even . . . go beyond pretend.”
“You make me nervous, lady. But I’m going to take a chance on you . . . just out of curiosity.”
“Wednesday evening, Mr Stassen. We had to line up plenty of extras to fill the lounge, that’s what took so much time.”
Tobin swung the phone to his other ear. “Yes, I have the cashier’s cheque in hand, but once you walk through that door Wednesday, no refunds. All right, we’ll see you and Mrs Stassen at 8 p.m.”
He placed the phone on his desk and leaned back.
“What’s up?” Heidi said. “After I counted all the zeroes on that cheque I figured you’d be so happy you’d spontaneously hand out a bonus.”
“Did you? Really?”
Heidi shrugged.
“I don’t know; I have a funny feeling about this one. That new girl, Kerry . . .”
“You mean Psyche?”
“Yeah. This will be her first gig. Just an extra, but something tells me I should give her a call, set her up some other time.”
“What could happen?”
“Damned if I know. I just can’t shake this feeling. Ah, screw it. If I give in to it I’ll end up jinxing the thing for sure.”
He went to the public lounge and scanned the booths and tables. He almost expected to find Kerry somewhere in a dim corner, but he didn’t see her again until Wednesday.
The Stassens met him in his office.
“Still time to call it off,” he told them.
“Why would we want to do that? I couldn’t sleep all night thinking about tonight; and I made sure Neil didn’t either, did I honey? Was I cruel to you, sweetheart, not letting you have any relief?” She squirmed in her seat, her breasts jostling in a low-cut black dress.
Neil nodded. “I just hope—”
“That you don’t cream in your pants before the party gets going?” Tracy chuckled.
“All right then,” Tobin said, slapping his hands down on his desk. “Heidi will see you to the door that opens into the lounge. There will be people drinking, talking, dancing . . . a typical bar scene. Have yourselves a drink, relax . . . and things will just . . . occur.”
“This way, please.” Heidi showed them out.
Tobin waited a few minutes before he followed the darkened corridor to the raised portion of the lounge. The lighting was adjusted so no one could see him sitting in the shadows.
He sat and began to scan the room. Rocco and the guys were milling about, talking up some of the extras. But where was Kerry?
He watched a girl whose bare back was turned to him. She appeared to be topless, but as she turned he could see she wore a backless top that tied around the neck beneath her hair. It was an enticing illusion. She also wore a denim skirt that reached to just above the knees. She could have been any college girl out for a night.
The acoustics in the room were excellent, and he could make out much of individual conversations if he concentrated, all except for the faintest whispers.
Neil had bought himself and Tracy a drink. She leaned against the bar, coyly sipping from her glass. Tobin guessed she was assessing the men, wondering which ones were going to screw her senseless. A generous show of thigh through the slit in her black dress was as good as flashing neon.
Rocco bumped up against her ass. No need to concentrate on Rocco’s voice, it was a deep, reverberating baritone with a hint of gravel in it.
“Hey, pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?”
He could see Neil make a faint protest. Rocco turned him away, “Was I fucking talking to you?”
“That’s my husband,” Tracy protested.
“Too bad for you. How about a dance? I bet the wimp don’t mind.”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer, but curled his arm around her waist like a padlock and pulled her onto the floor. Neil cowered at the bar.
Tracy made a show of pushing Rocco’s hands away from her ass.
“Please, stop, my husband—”
“Isn’t going to do shit. You know what, baby? You’re getting me kinda anxious. Here, feel this.”
Tobin could see him snatch her wrist and tug her hand down to his crotch. Even from his vantage he could see Tracy’s eyes widen like saucers.
Rocco’s hands roamed freely up her thigh. He buried his face in her cleavage, and lifted her dress so the whole room could see he was squeezing her ass.
Neil left the bar and approached them.
“That’s enough of that.”
Rocco turned on him. “Get the fuck over there.”
Neil followed where Rocco pointed.
“Neil, aren’t you going to do something?” Tracy demanded.
“Yeah, he’s going to do something. He’s going to watch you get fucked by a real cock. Sit on the floor, pussy-boy!”
Neil meekly obeyed. The other people in the room tittered.
Tracy feigned her disappointment. “Neil, how could you?”
Rocco lifted Tracy by her ass and set her on the pool table.
“Please, don’t . . .”
Then Rocco shed his pants and underwear. Even from behind Tobin could make out the shadow of his cock.
“Oh, my God!” Tracy moaned. “You’re not . . . not . . . going to . . .”
Kerry stepped out of the crowd and stood between Rocco and Tracy.
Tobin stood just as the slap reverberated around the room. The crowd gasped and went silent.
Tracy cupped her cheek, her eyes wide with fright and surprise.
“Shut up, you stupid slut!” Kerry demanded. She pushed Tracy onto her back and climbed onto the pool table.
Rocco turned towards where Tobin stood in the dark. He raised his arms as if to say . . . “What the fuck?” Tobin took a step, but hesitated.
Kerry had ripped Tracy’s dress open and was straddling her, slapping her breasts.
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