by Burke, Dez
“Are you awake?” a sleepy voice whispers suddenly from behind me.
Damn!
There are two of them? Holy shit!
I can’t remember either of their names. The only detail I vaguely remember after downing four martinis following the show last night is pulling a girl up from the floor of the casino wearing black glasses and a baseball cap. Her eyes were big, beautiful and green behind the thick lens.
The rest of her was kind of a mess.
What little I can remember of her.
She didn’t seem to want to hang around with us which I remember thinking was unusual to say the least. Everyone wants to be part of my entourage.
Not because of me.
More because they want to be seen with me.
The life of a Vegas celebrity is complicated.
I don’t answer, and the girl snuggles up to my back. Instead of my dick getting hard, I suddenly feel trapped. Sandwiched between two girls that I don’t know or care to know.
A loud cooing noise erupts from the living room of my hotel suite.
“What is that damn awful sound?” the girl mumbles behind me. “Make it stop!”
I hear the loud flapping of wings moments before one of the stars of my show, a big white dove named Snow, crash lands right in the middle of the sheets. The naked girl screams and jumps out of the bed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask, reaching over to scratch Snow’s head. “You’re scaring my bird.”
“You’re concerned about me scaring her?” the girl says with a horrified look. “I’m terrified of birds. Get it the hell away from me. The sound of their wings flapping creeps me out. I don’t like them.”
Now she’s pissed me off. This is my pet she’s ranting about.
“For God’s sake. She’s a white dove. Well, technically a King pigeon, but she likes it when I call her my little dove. Doves are a universal symbol of peace and love. How scary could she be? She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Would you, baby?”
Snow makes another cooing noise and tries to snuggle under the blanket with us. The girl shrieks and makes a mad dash for the bathroom.
Damn.
Not the best way to start the morning. The other girl hasn’t made a sound and is still sleeping through all the ruckus. I throw back the bedspread and slap one of her plump ass cheeks to wake her up. For the first time, I notice the cellulite dimpling the back of her thighs. Ugh! Things always look worse in the mornings.
Especially in Las Vegas.
Sin City isn’t quite the same when the sun comes up.
“Rise and shine, doll,” I say to her.
She rolls over, rubs her eyes and mumbles sleepily, “What time is it?”
Her mascara is smeared and she looks like hell in the light of day. I’m disappointed in my previous night’s selection of women. Or my men’s selection. They need to raise the bar, or I’ll be bitching to Leroy about it. I’m not that hard to please.
“Time for you to hit the road,” I say. “I’ll call you both a cab to take you back to your hotel.”
“Can’t I sleep a little longer?” she says. “It’s not even ten o’clock yet.”
“No way, sorry,” I say, throwing back the sheets from her body. “This is a work day for me. Unlike you, I’m not on vacation. Up and out. Let’s go. Time is wasting.”
Now that the option of morning pussy is out, I can’t wait for them both to leave. I want them out of here.
Pronto.
I grab a pair of grey, warm-up pants from the bedside table and slip them on. Gently I scoop up Snow in my hands and carry her back into the living room of my hotel suite.
She flies across the room and lands on a perch set up by a big glass floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the famous Las Vegas strip. My room is on the 77th floor of the hotel so she literally has a ‘birds-eye’ view and loves it.
Leroy, my so-called bodyguard, is sprawled out on the sofa, snoring loudly with his mouth wide open. If he doesn’t lose some weight soon, I’m afraid he might die of sleep apnea. His suit jacket is wrinkled and lying on the floor.
“Leroy!” I call out.
He doesn’t budge. Probably more hungover than I am. Some dependable bodyguard he is.
I walk over and pat his arm gently then take two steps back. I know what Leroy is like when he first wakes up.
“Wake up Leroy!”
He jumps awake with a start, his big arms flailing around and his eyes wide. His hand encircles my wrist in a fast, tight grip.
“Jesus, Sugar!” he mumbles. “What the hell are you doing, dawg? Don’t you be grabbing me like that when I’m asleep. You know better than that. I’ll shoot your little ass. You know I will.”
I chuckle at his crazed expression. He’s still half-asleep and out of his head.
“You’re going to shoot me?” I ask. “With what?”
We both know Leroy doesn’t carry a gun. He can’t get a gun permit due to a long stream of previous misdemeanors. Which sucks, considering he’s a bodyguard.
“Why are you sleeping on my sofa? You could’ve gone to one of the guest bedrooms.”
He gives me a sheepish look and rubs his bald head. “I had a little too much to drink last night. I sat down for just a minute on your couch and fell dead asleep. It was late and I knew you would need me here early this morning. No use in going home in the middle of the night and disturbing Mama. No matter what time I come in, she gets up to see how I’m doing and offers to cook me breakfast. I’m awake now. What do you need?”
I wave a hand back toward the bedroom. “Call a cab for the girls and get them out of here. I’m going down to the gym to work out. Make sure everyone is cleared out by the time I get back. I’m devising a new trick for the New Year’s show. I need peace and quiet today.”
“You got it, boss. How many girls are here?”
“Shouldn’t you know that?” I ask, rubbing a hand through my hair in exasperation. “Why are you asking me? You’re my security guard. You should be keeping up with how many people are in my hotel suite. It might be important to know one day.”
“Are you complaining?” Leroy scowls and points a big finger at me. “Because the tone in your voice sounds like a complaint. I can’t believe you’re criticizing the job I do. You always take me for granted. Have you ever been shot, Sugar?”
I shake my head. “No, can’t say that I have…yet.”
“You ever been hog-tied, thrown into the trunk of a car and left in the desert in one hundred-degree heat to die a long, agonizing death?”
“No, have you?” I reply, frowning. “Why are you asking me these dumbass questions?”
He doesn’t answer. “Have you ever had a psychotic fan break into your hotel room, crawl into the bed with you while you’re asleep and lick your ear?”
I snap my fingers. “Yes! Not lately, though that has happened before. It wasn’t my ear I woke up and found her licking though. What’s your damn point?”
“My point is that I’m keeping you safe. Nothing bad has happened to you since I’ve been on the job. My means and methods might not be as sophisticated as some of those other security firms who carry walkie-talkies and all that other high-tech shit. But at the end of the day, you can sleep soundly knowing good ole Leroy is right here, by your side, watching after you. And I don’t need to carry no gun. So don’t start bitching about that again. If they’re packing heat, I got fists so strong the NRA will be nervous. I’m protecting your scrawny ass every damn day.”
Leroy is getting worked up. I’ve pissed him off by waking him.
I hold up my hands to quieten him. “Calm down, Leroy. I get it. You’re doing a bang-up job for me. But since when are walkie-talkies considered high-tech? That is so eighties.”
Leroy jumps up to tower over me. He can move surprisingly fast for a huge man. He’s well over six-foot-five and always seems bigger when he’s trying to intimidate me.
Which happens often.
“I’m tired of talking about this
shit,” he says, sticking his big finger in my face again. “Your ass would be dead if it wasn’t for me. Now how many fucking girls do I need to call a cab for? Don’t make me bust down the bathroom door to personally count them.”
“Two,” I answer calmly. “You’re not much of a morning person, are you, Leroy?”
He glares at me and starts digging through the sofa cushions for his cellphone. “Now I’ve lost my cellphone. Jesus…the things I have to do for you, Sugar. You’re a pain in the ass this early in the morning. I haven’t even had a damn cup of coffee and you start in on me whining about getting rid of girls that you were plenty happy to bring in here last night. You thought they were mighty fine about midnight.”
There’s no point in reminding him that it’s his job. Leroy is my driver, security guy and occasional personal assistant.
And best friend.
I would feel lost without him around to keep me sane. He’s as close to me as any brother could be. He’s been with me since I first started out doing street tricks on the Vegas strip.
He’d been strolling down the strip one day to his job as a valet when he saw me working a small crowd on the sidewalk. He stopped to watch. His amazed laughter and ongoing commentary about my sleight-of-hand tricks drew more people my way which meant more tips in the jar.
The next day he left for his job a few minutes early so he could swing by and watch me again. He said he was determined to stay until he could figure out how I did my magic. Once again, his enthusiasm caused more people to stop instead of walking straight on by.
It didn’t take me long to realize Leroy might be a perfect sidekick. I offered him double the amount of money he made as a valet to come back the third day. He readily took me up on the offer because he wanted to learn my secrets.
The next day I used him as a plant in the tourist crowd. My tips quadrupled with Leroy as my sidekick. I hired him permanently on the spot and we’ve been inseparable ever since. Ever since I left the street hustler life behind and hit the big stage, he’s been by my side almost round-the-clock and I pay him a large salary to do it.
He takes care of me and I take care of him.
We’re a match made in heaven.
To this day, he’s never figured out how I do my tricks and I’m glad. The day Leroy stops believing in my magic is the day I quit.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” I tell him. “Don’t leave the girls alone because they might steal something. And don’t let them near Snow, okay? One of them has freaked out already. She has a weird, crazy bird thing going on in her head. I don’t know what the hell is the matter with her.”
“Will do,” he says, nodding. “Any chance you’re going to swing by a fast food place on the way back?” he asks, slowly rubbing his stomach. “I’m kind of in the mood for a sausage biscuit.”
“When are you not in the mood for a biscuit? And no, I’m not. You need to stop eating that crap. You should work on your diet or even better start coming to the gym with me. You could start out slow. I’ll help you.”
“Save your breath. I ain’t got time for that foolishness.”
“What’s your excuse today?”
“You work me too hard. Taking care of you is a 24/7 job. Is there anything to eat here besides the fruit basket over there on the table?” He puts to a big basket of fresh fruit the hotel supplies me with every day. “Bananas and oranges just don’t fill a big man up. They’re more of a tiny snack than a real meal in my opinion.”
“Call room service and order something,” I say. “But only after you get rid of the girls. I don’t want to come back to find the three of you having a big picnic spread out on my living room floor.”
“They’re as good as gone,” he reassures me. “I’m on it. Don’t you worry about a thing.” He stops talking and gives me a long look. “You okay, Sugar? You seem off this morning. Is something going on that I don’t know about? You’re not sick, are you? Because if you are, I can talk to Mama about it. She knows all about natural remedies and cleansings as she calls them. She can whip you up something if you’re getting sick. A green drink full of wheatgrass, spinach and ginger or some other godawful shit like that.”
I shake my head. Leroy knows me too well.
“No, I’m good, buddy. Maybe a little hungover is all.”
Leroy starts to head toward the bedroom to round up the girls.
“Hang on a second,” I say. “I need you to do something quick for me before I go.” Hurrying across the room, I grab one of the bananas from the fruit basket and peel it. “Hold this,” I say, handing over the banana to him after I toss the peeling in the trash can. “Go stand over there on the other side of the room.”
Leroy glares at me. “Are you fucking serious?” he asks. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for your foolishness this early in the morning? Because believe me, I am not.”
“It will only take a second,” I assure him. “Come on! I need to practice. Please. No more than two minutes, I promise.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he takes the banana out of my hand and walks to the far side of the room.
“Is this far enough away?” he asks.
“Yeah, that’s perfect. Hold the banana at the bottom with your arm out straight.”
I pick up one of the numerous new deck of cards sitting on the table and shuffle them quickly.
“Ready?” I ask, grinning at Leroy.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Don’t you dare hit me in the eye with one of those damn cards,” he warns. “If you do, I’ll swear, I’ll come right over there and punch you right in the face. I’ll mess you up bad.”
“Then we’ll both be out of a job,” I tell him. “Who wants to see an illusionist who looks like he has been in a fistfight? My pretty face draws in the crowds. Hold still. On the count of three.”
I grasp the deck of cards in my left hand and place the fingers of my right hand on top.
Leroy holds the banana as far away from his face as he can get it and pulls his head back.
“Jesus, Leroy. Quit being so hysterical. You know I’m not going to hit you. I’ve been throwing cards since I was a kid. One, two…”
In a fast eye-blurring motion, I throw the cards one at a time toward the banana, slicing it into uniform pieces right down to Leroy’s thumb and forefinger.
“Yes!” I say, pumping the air with my fist. “Not a single miss. Damn, am I good or what? Tell me how good I am, Leroy.”
Leroy is clearly unimpressed. “I ain’t picking up those banana pieces,” he says with a doleful look at the carpet where the now smashed banana is scattered. “That’s your mess. I’m not your maid. You made the mess, you clean it up.”
“Okay, okay,” I say, walking over to scoop up the banana with a paper towel. “The trick is cool though, right? How the cards slice uniformly right through the banana?”
“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “Someone might think so. I’ve seen better.”
“Remind me never to wake you up again,” I say with a frown. “You’re in a foul, evil mood. I hope you feel better after you get something to eat.”
“Sugar!” a whiny voice calls out from the bedroom. “Where did you go? Where are your extra towels?”
I roll my eyes at Leroy and jerk my thumb toward the bathroom.
“I don’t want them in my shower or touching my towels,” I tell Leroy as move past him toward the door. “Get rid of them now. I’m off to the gym. Text me when they’re out of here and it’s safe to return.”
“Don’t worry, boss. I’m on it,” he says. “They’re good as gone. Then I’m calling room service about breakfast since you’ve ruined that perfectly good banana I was planning to eat.”
A naked girl steps into the room and doesn’t miss a beat when she sees Leroy with me.
“Aren’t you joining us for a shower, Sugar?” she asks, leaning against the wall in a sexy pose. “We’re lonely in there all by ourselves.”
“Sorry, got to run,” I say with a wink at Leroy.
“If you need anything, just talk to Leroy.”
“That’s right,” Leroy says, perking up at the sight of a naked woman. “Leroy is your man.”
* * *
Sign up for my newsletter list here for cover reveals and updates. I rarely send emails and promise not to spam you. Call Me Sugar will be released this summer!
More Books by Dez Burke
Safe House (Steel Infidels Series Book 1)
Liberated (Steel Infidels Series Book 2)
Steel Justice (Steel Infidels Series Book 3)
Thunderclap (Steel Infidels Series Book 4)
Take Down (Steel Infidels Series Book 5)
Steel Infidels Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5)