by Peart, A. O.
EIGHT
“Never try to outsmart a woman, unless you are another woman.”
William Lyon Phelps
Ali’s eyes grow huge. She presses her finger to her lips, signaling to us to be quiet, and squeezes herself behind the statue. I look at Svetlana, expecting her to freak out, but she’s as calm as the effin’ phalluses on the shelves. A few years with the mafia guys must be good for something.
“Hide, quick,” I whisper to her.
“That’s not Catherine,” she whispers back.
“So? We aren’t supposed to be here.”
“It’s Amelie, her older sister and some guy,” she informs me after taking a quick peek around the corner.
I sneak a glimpse too. A couple is standing in a tight embrace, kissing in the hallway. The guy looks his late twenties at the most, while the woman is definitely a cougar. A well-preserved cougar. They really are getting into it, and I start hoping that we might have a chance to tiptoe to the back door and run. Svetlana points to the back of the sofa, right by the multicolored dick statue.
“Fuck no,” I say indignantly.
She rushes me in there and crawls next to me. Great. Now we are not only trespassing, but also hiding with a cat that, most likely, will start meowing at any moment. How did I get myself into this mess? Oh, wait. It was my idea. Smooth, Natalie, really smooth.
Svetlana’s perfume suffocates me. I’m gonna sneeze. I rub the sides of my nose, hoping my friend Jena was right when she told me this is the trick to stop a sneeze. It does help.
Crouching low, I stick my head from behind the sofa to see what’s going on. I see Ali squeezed between the black dick and the wall. She doesn’t look happy. I wave to her. The couple enters the room, or rather stumbles in while roaming over each other’s bodies and locking lips. They undress in a hurry, creating a trail of clothing on the floor.
The woman moans when the guy presses her to him and bends to kiss her throat. Oh, great. Now we are about to witness these two having sex right in front of us. I’m out of here. Svetlana must sense what I’m about to do, because she pulls me down and whispers in my ear, “Wait. I have a plan.”
“Good, because I’m not in a mood to watch live porn,” I snap back.
She giggles quietly. The leather sofa in front of us rattles when the couple collapses on it. They are panting, and I feel like puking. From what Svetlana told me, Catherine is in her late fifties, and this is her older sister. Not only live porn, but the geriatric kind! Hell on wheels, I really don’t want to be here.
“Do you have a condom?” I hear the woman say between the gasps.
Really? You worry about getting pregnant at your age? I roll my eyes.
“Of course. Always. But you said you’re on the pill,” the guy pants back.
“No, I never said that.” She sounds indignant. The kissing noises cease. “Get your clients straight. That’s not what I pay you for.” She stands up.
He grabs her from behind around her waist and apologizes quietly, nuzzling her neck. She stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed over her chest. She’s only wearing a bra, skimpy undies, and lacy-top stockings, all in black.
“How old is this woman?” I whisper in Svetlana’s ear.
She shrugs and makes a no idea face. “Maybe fifty nine? Sixty?”
Whoa! I wanna look like this when I’m sixty. There is not an inch of bulging or floppy flesh on her. Sweet Jesus, no amount of exercise can make a sixty-year-old woman look like this. Cher’s re-embodiment in full display.
“Who’s the guy?” I whisper again.
Svetlana winks at me. “I think male escort. Amelie likes them.” She leans very close to my ear, and I have to hold my breath because her obnoxious perfume is giving me a headache. “Amelie hires the escorts all the time. Only very young and handsome.”
No kidding. Interesting lifestyle. I crouch even lower and stick my head out from behind the couch again to catch a glimpse of Ali. She’s plastered to the wall by the questionable statue and, like me, peaking from behind it to get a better view. She has a wicked grin plastered on her face, and I’m afraid she’s going to start giggling out loud. Crap!
Ali catches my eye and points with her chin to the couple. They are seriously making out again. I guess Amelie’s outrage at her young escort’s inability to keep his clients straight was rather superficial. I put my finger across my lips, signaling to Ali to be quiet, and then I point in the general direction of the back door. She nods, but puts her hand out as to say, okay, but wait, this is getting really interesting. I inwardly groan and nudge Svetlana. “What’s your brilliant plan?”
She mouths, “Wait for them to start.”
“Start?” I mouth back. “Fuck no. This is gross.”
Amelie asks the guy, “Did you say something?”
“No, baby. Only that you’re so gorgeous.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. Maybe she heard me whispering This is gross and thought it was her lover boy quietly voicing his opinion. I can’t stop a snort.
“What was that?” This time Amelie’s voice sounds irritated, the notes of lust gone from it.
“Shh, my goddess. Come here, beautiful.” The guy lures her back down and under him.
I roll my eyes. Maybe he should improve his bedroom vocabulary. My goddess? Really?
Ali’s cracking up behind the giant dick, and I shake my head in horror at her. By now the couple on the couch is oblivious to everything going on around them. The freakin’ couch starts quaking, and I wince, knowing exactly what’s happening.
I nudge Svetlana again. “If you won’t do something quick to get us out, I’m standing up and walking straight to the door. I don’t care.”
“This is the right moment to surprise her. Stay here for a bit.” She hands me the kitten. It’s so tiny and soft, and immediately snuggles in my jacket. Aww.
Svetlana stands up and pushes the couch forward. Amelie shrieks, and the guy swears.
“What’s this?” Amelie yells at her, shoving the man off and jumping to her feet. She’s now only wearing a garter belt with her stockings. Her pussy is shaved clean.
Svetlana steps from behind the couch and puts her hands on her hips. She says in her thick Russian accent, “Good to see you, Amelie. Why the fuck are you looking so shocked?” Her fuck sounds more like fa’k.
Amelie gapes at Svetlana, and the escort watches her, a slow, sexy smile on his face. He’s fully aroused and not a bit embarrassed about it. There is a condom tightly stretched over his penis. I must admit, the guy has all the right assets to keep his ladies happy. My, my.
Ali makes a move as if she’s trying to get out from behind the gigantic dick, but stops when Amelie picks her clothes up off the floor without one word, and then runs to the door. The guy stands, brazenly crossing his muscular arms over a beautifully sculpted chest. His oversized penis bobs from its weight and is not getting any limper. I wonder if he’s hoping to continue with Svetlana what just got interrupted with Amelia. Or maybe he’s anticipating a threesome. Svetlana ignores him and rushes after Amelia.
“Hey, we have some unfinished business, bitch,” she calls out. I shake my head in exasperation—Svetlana’s bitch sounds like beach. We need to work on her pronunciation.
I’m confused. The owner of this house is Amelie’s sister; Svetlana is the intruder. So why the hell do the roles seem to be reversed? Ah, screw that—I stand up from behind the sofa, kitten in hand. “Nice biceps,” I say indifferently to the escort while passing him on my way to the front door. He gapes at me, clearly shocked at yet another female emerging into the bizarre scene.
Ali joins me and winks at the guy. “Leave your business card on the coffee table, would ya? I may call you sometime.” She might totally mean that. I give her a stink eye, and she mouths, “What?”
I mouth back, “Ashton.”
“He wouldn’t mind. I told you we aren’t exclusive.”
Yeah, whatever.
Svetlana stands with her back p
ressed to the front door, arms crossed over her chest. She’s blocking the exit from Amelie, who, by now, is partially dressed. They are arguing, although Svetlana is keeping her cool, while Amelie is foaming at the mouth.
“What’s all this about?” Ali asks me.
“Beats me.”
Amelie turns around, and her jaw drops at the sight of Ali and me. “Who the hell are you?”
“I could ask you the same question.” I have no idea what’s going on, but I play along and stand next to Svetlana. Ali stands on her other side. I fleetingly think that we must look like Charlie’s Angels. Hey, I’m always up for kicking some ass.
“What is this?” Amelie’s eyeing us in confusion. “A spy squadron?”
“A get-my-money squadron,” Svetlana snaps. “That five grand you owe me just doubled.”
Amelie gives a nervous laugh. “Fuck you.”
“You can get back to fucking as soon as you pay me back.” Svetlana lifts her eyebrows. Ali and I snort.
NINE
“Morality’s not practical. Morality’s a gesture. A complicated gesture learned from books.”
Robert Bolt
Amelie looks from Svetlana to me to Ali and back. Svetlana reaches into her purse and takes out a .40 Glock like it was a candy in a wrapper. Holy Mother of Sweet Jesus!
“Svetlana!” I gasp.
“Whoa!” Ali moves away from her.
“It’s okay,” Svetlana reassures us calmly. “Amelie will go get the money from her sister’s secret stash, and no one will get hurt. Right, Amelie?”
The cougar’s eyes are huge, and she swallows hard. I wonder how Svetlana even knows that Amelie’s sister has a secret stash of money in the house. Or maybe she’s bluffing, but Amelie nods in agreement.
The escort guy walks into the hallway, dressed in jeans but shirtless, and immediately backs away. “Oh, shit.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” Svetlana says. She smiles at him and motions with the gun. “Turn around and stand against this wall, arms over your head. Don’t try anything stupid, or I will shoot.”
He actually smiles back at her, and then slowly turns to the wall, lifting his sculpted arms and pressing the palms on the wall in a sexy, seductive way. Holy crap, the guy is totally mouth-watering.
Ali and I exchange unsure glances, but we stay put. I resolve to have a word with Svetlana about not mentioning that concealed carry in her clutch.
“I will go with Amelie upstairs to look for money she owes me. You stay here and watch this guy, okay? Oh, be gentle with Lenochka, please.” Svetlana looks pleadingly at Ali and me and adds, “It will not take long.”
I huff and shake my head. “Fine. Just hurry.”
They walk up the vast staircase and disappear behind the double doors on the second floor.
“Why are we staying? Let’s go. This is crazy.” Ali grabs my arm and pulls me away from the door.
“No, wait.”
“Why?” Ali’s eyes are huge.
“I don’t know. I just don’t want to leave her alone. She seems like a nice girl.”
“Are you out of your mind, Nat?” Ali looks at me as if I’m mad. I probably am, but I can’t help my curiosity taking over.
The escort turns to us, and I almost regret not being able to enjoy the superb view of his perfect ass clad in tight jeans. But the front view is as good—the tight muscles of his stomach and chest are easy on the eye.
Ali whistles and crosses her arms. One of her brows lifts in appreciation. “So where did you come from, ace?”
He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and smiles sheepishly, shrugging. “I’m just a companion.”
“And a fine one for sure.” Ali purrs.
I smack her on the arm.
“Heeeyyyy,” she protests, twisting her body toward me. “You gotta admit he’s yummy.”
“Did you forget what the hell is going on around here?” I swipe my arm, indicating the whatever I’m trying to indicate—maybe just the fact that we are freakin’ trespassing and our new friend is holding someone at gun point upstairs.
Ali shrugs. “Such fine masculine body is becoming a rare commodity these days.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “And that’s your excuse to salivate over… uhm, what’s your name?”
“I’m Josh.” The guy puts his hand out, and Ali shakes it, beaming at him. She’s so in her element.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. There is a text from Colin, “So what are you doing tonight, babe? Getting into some trouble with Ali?”
Okay, did I send the S.O.S. vibes to him? Or is he a mind reader, because this hits way too close to home. I need to text him back, or he will call to check on me. While Ali flirts with Josh, I start typing, “Yeah, something like that. I should be home later. Will call you. I love you.” And then I yell, “Svetlana, get your ass over here!”
“You both stay downstairs, would you? I’m going to drag her out of there.” I walk up the stairs with the kitten snuggled in the crook of my arm, admiring the architecture and the tasteful interior decorating. As soon as I get closer to the upstairs doors, I hear the women argue. I enter and see Svetlana, towering over Amelie, who’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered designer shoes.
“Not my fault that your feet are so big, Svetlana. Maybe you should look into men’s sizes.” Amelie throws an empty shoe bag with the Prada logo printed on over her shoulder and glares at Svetlana.
“You French midget.” Svetlana stomps her foot. “And where do you shop? In kids’ department?”
This is odd. “What’s going on here?” I ask.
They don’t pay me any attention, but continue bitching at each other. Between Svetlana’s rough Russian accent and Amelie’s strong French one I have a hard time understanding what’s happening. On top of it, they both throw foreign words into the conversation. My head starts to spin. Svetlana’s gun is nowhere to be seen, and I’m hoping it’s safely tucked into her Hermes purse.
“Svetlana, Amelie! What the hell? What is this? A shopping spree?” I yell.
They look at me, finally silent. Svetlana explains, “She only had five thousand dollars in cash, which is the sum she borrowed from me three weeks ago.”
“So let’s go. You’ve got your money back.” I motion her to the door.
“I need interest too.” Svetlana puts one hand on her hip. “She promised to pay back in one week. It’s been three.”
I close my eyes and count to three. Slowly. These two must be from another planet than I am. “Okay, so what’s the holdup?”
“The interest! She’s paying in shoes. But these are too small for me.” Svetlana points to the heels on the floor.
Is anyone except me aware of how bizarre this whole situation is?
“I can’t wear these,” Svetlana insists.
“Then get something else. A purse, clothes… or a bedspread. Whatever. Or forget the interest. And, by the way, we came here to get the cat and your pendant. What the hell is this debt money thing about? No, wait… I don’t care. Whatever this is, it’s between you and her.” I point to Amelie, who’s still sitting on the floor, fuming.
“Fine.” Svetlana grabs four fabric dust bags, each with a different designer logo. The shoes are bulging inside them.
“Hey! These are over eight hundred a piece,” Amelie protests.
“And you’re going to complain about it?” Svetlana storms out of the bedroom.
“So let me get this straight.” I follow her. “This is Catherine’s house. Amelie is her sister. She’s trading Catherine’s shoes with you for a debt that she owes you. And she’s using her sister’s house as her hookup place? Oh, and you were about to shoot her if she didn’t cooperate, yes?”
“Something like that. Except I wouldn’t shoot her. She knows that.” Svetlana tramps toward the stairs.
“Cool.” I shrug, refraining from rolling my eyes at the ludicrousness of what I just witnessed. “My battered brain can’t wrap itself around it all, and s
o I decide to wait with getting a better explanation from her later.
As soon as we get to the top of the stairs, we see another interesting scene. Ali and Josh are talking and giggling. Ali stands with her back against the wall, and Josh leans toward her, bracing himself with his hand on the wall, right by her head. They are totally flirting! Really? Now? Here?
I cluck my tongue and shake my head from side to side. Ali unhurriedly looks up over Josh’s outstretched arm and grins at me. I give her a whatever, girlfriend look.
Josh whispers something in her ear. She lets out a short laugh and nods.
“Looks like you’re ready to go.” I snort at Ali. “Later, Josh.” I give him a fleeting look.
“I’m going too.” He grabs his shirt, jacket, and shoes and rushes after us.
“Amelie’s going to be disappointed,” I taunt.
“She’ll get over it. Besides, I was held at gun point, which is a definite clause for breach of the agency contract.”
“So you’re really an escort? From an escort agency?” I ask, amused.
“Yes, ma’am. And a law student.” He smiles. He has a beautiful smile. I wonder how old he is. Probably no more than twenty-three.
I snort. “A law student? Why do you work as an escort then?”
“To pay the student loans,” he sounds as if explaining this to a child.
Svetlana pauses in the kitchen, head tilted to the side. I wonder what she’s looking at when she walks over to the fireplace mantel and picks up one of the phalluses. She holds it for a moment, studying it, and then her fingers open. The ceramic dick drops to the hearth and shatters into several jagged pieces.
“This is for stealing my Lenochka,” Svetlana says.
“Feeling a bit vindictive, aren’t you?” I tease. “This looked expensive.” I point to the broken phallus.
She squats down. “Yeah, it did. That’s why I broke it.”
I make a mental note not to cross my new friend. She has her ways of getting back at those who piss her off. Svetlana is picking up the broken pieces and stuffing them in her purse.