by Evelyn Glass
Hank gave him the bag and headed for the door.
“Hank?” Jim said, as Hank reached the door, “Thank Brian for me and good call on your part. If that man says something is important, it’s likely more important than he’s letting on.”
“Yes, sir, thanks.” Then Hank was gone and Jim was looking down into the bag.
“It looks like,” Jim mused as he inventoried the bag, “I have a disappointing number of redheads in here, which is a shame. But there are three well made and very valuable pistols, two wallets of leather, and two cellphones whose value could pay my rent.”
“Those would be the items Brian took off Antonio and Davis,” Cole offered.
“Interesting and very good. This will probably ensure that you aren’t going to spend much time with the cops. Jack can certainly use these. Did either of them get a shot off?”
“No,” Cole told him.
Jim nodded in a way that let Nicole know he already guessed that this was the case. “Well, when you get outside with these things, I want you to pump a round out of each of them and you were the one who took these things off the corpses, not Brian.”
“Got it,” Cole agreed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Jim set the bag forward to the edge of the desk in front of Cole and then turned thoughtful again as his focus came over to Nicole. His gaze felt like it had weight and she tried to sit a little straighter. “Let’s return to the email I got offering the overly-done reward.”
“I’ve already notified the men in my club, the ones who do a bit of bounty hunting in underworld affairs, that you are an internal matter for now and that you are under the protection of Cole.
“Cole is a good man, but you already know that part. He carries an impressive amount of respect around, handed to him by most of the members of our club and myself. So, for now, no one from this club is going to be looking to cash you in, but the note also mentioned that you took something from Gabriel when you left.
“He was very vague about what the missing something might be, but from the looks of you, I would guess it was his heart.”
Nicole studied him and then said, “He doesn’t have a heart. It’s a birth defect.”
“Rendering him all the more unpredictable in situations like this. Why are you so important to him?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I mean, I was a call girl for him and good at what I did. I might have been better than some of the other girls, but we were never given information along those lines. I figured that he didn’t want us figuring out that we were more valuable to him than we suspected.”
“How, um, valuable were you?” Jim asked. Then he glanced at Cole, who calmly gave him a nod of permission to carry on.
So, Nicole told him, and told him about the tips, and what she learned about the bidding wars for her, which were common on particular days during the year. “When I overheard that conversation, the ravings were about how they raked in twelve times my fee that year.”
Jim lifted both eyebrows to this and then gave her a long appraising look. “Forgive me. I agree you are very nice on the eyes, but that’s a lot of money for a night of sex.”
Nicole quirked the edge of a grin before she was able to control her lips and replied, “No, Jim, that’s an insane amount of money for a night of sex even with twelve women.” She shook her head, “No, it wasn’t about the sex. A prostitute gives you a climax. What I did was give you a night of freedom and then the sex.”
“Interesting, but freedom from what?” Jim pressed.
She glanced over at Cole and said, “We were going to talk about this later, but now seems like a more appropriate time, if you agree.”
Cole was silent for a moment, “It’s important that Jim knows as much as he can right now about what is going on and why. So, yes, I agree.”
She nodded, focused her thoughts, and let the words pour out. The men who were on her calendar regularly were very rich — the multiple millions kind of rich in cash value with many times that locked up in investments and deals all the time. They were also extremely powerful and you could tell that by the way they came into a room and how they perceived things.
“For example,” she explained, “a bomb threat at the Chicago airport would not be seen as terribly important. It would not delay them. They would simply make some calls — one, or two at the most — and then they would not only make their flight, but it would leave on time. Their problems aren’t the problems other people have. They’re the problems other governments have.”
She paused for a moment and then continued, “If men like these just want sex, they don’t come to me. They bend their willing secretary over the desk, fuck her, and get on with their day. Or, maybe it was their girlfriend, or perhaps their wife, or sometimes the young nanny, or perhaps three of those women in the same day.
“Men of power, like them — and I suspect you, Jim, have experienced the beginnings of this lately — don’t see sex as an attractive goal; they view it as the release of nagging tensions and if they could get away with it, they wouldn’t have it at all. Of course, they wouldn’t sleep at all either. Since it is necessary and regular feedings of the animal urge result in improved concentration, they ensure they have some around, like a diabetic might feel keeping insulin around would be a good idea.
She met Jim’s eyes, “And really Jim, pussy is just pussy, right? From what I gathered so far about Cole’s lifestyle and the population who choose it, there are plenty of willing women here most nights of the week. And when you are feeling the tension in your shoulders and your mind is a little foggy even after you did a line, or maybe the imperious urge is on the path again, wandering out there to the bar, finding a willing woman, fucking her here on this desk, which appears to be the right height for a man your size, is a viable and reasonable response.”
Jim shifted a little uneasily, but then nodded, “All right, go on.”
“Even with the money, power, and resources these men have, they don’t have any moments of freedom. Throughout their lives, they have been committed and focused. They’ve learned and practiced the mental skills necessary to have as many irons in the fire as they can at one time.
“Time is not recoverable and the general belief among them is that only the insane waste it. While they were learning and loving the results of their growing mental abilities, and very invested in taking multi-tasking to the level of the divine, something else was happening to them, as well.
“Their minds now no longer actually leave the boardrooms or negotiating tables. They never really shut the computer off and sigh with satisfaction after a long, but rewarding day. They have like this bubble around them, which traps them inside with themselves.
“There are no moments of actual leisure in their lives while this bubble is there. Inside the bubble there are always ten or more things that need their focused attention and their email cues always have an important message they need to compose a response for. The list of important and critical things is always long and impossible to compete.”
“After I meet a new client, I learn as much as I can during the time I am with him, so that I can talk his language the next time he comes over. The nights with me normally begin with decompression. I allow them space for a while, getting them drinks, perhaps getting their shoes off while they catch up on a few emails or stock positions.
“Then I begin a subtle seduction, which normally begins by engaging them in conversation on topics I know are appealing to them. During these conversations, for the next two, maybe three hours, I guide their emotions and the topics of interest, to places outside of that bubble. I may take a shower with them, or dance for them, or even perform masturbation for them, but normally the seduction at this point is subtle.
“As soon as I have them fully engaged in interests outside of their bubble, such as horse breeding, or motorcycles, or whatever it is that they could envision themselves doing as a hobby or find mentally stimulating, the bubble begins to pop and they be
come present in the room with nothing on their minds other than the desire to spend the next few hours free with the woman who broke them out — and then we have sex.”
“Because before that bubble pops,” Jim reasoned, “sex with you is going to be just as interesting and effective as sex with the secretary.”
“Exactly. The sex, too, requires a great deal of research and takes several hours of my day to go through the current regimen of exercises I have scheduled at any given time. These exercises are always specific to my current technical goals so that I can perform the techniques to offer higher arousal and control. A perfect example of this is the technique known as pompoir.”
Jim was fully engaged now in what she was telling him, “What’s that? What is pompoir?”
“Pompoir is a technique that requires the mastery of the pussy muscles, the ones inside, not just around the entry area. Once mastery is achieved and individual muscles can be flexed and relaxed at will, the woman-on-top position is used and she makes use of her internal pussy muscles to work the cock with ripples of excitement without using humping motions or hands.
“From across the room, she’d look like she is just sitting there, straddling his cock. To the man attached to that cock, there is a riot of stimulations happening to him.”
“Get out!” Jim blurted with a laugh.
“Pompoir requires several months of dedicated training to be able to use it properly,” she continued as if she wasn’t interrupted.
“You’re serious,” Jim said in astonishment.
“I’m very serious about all of these things. I have spent the last three years engrossed in the study of physical sex, how the brain makes decisions, the physiology of lust, attraction, stages of arousal, and taboo attraction.
“I’ve also learned about finance, negotiation tactics, the psychology and skills of investments, stocks, mutual funds, and, if given a couple minutes and my laptop connected to the Internet, I can tell you the best place to get sushi in a city I have no experience with.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jim said and looked over at Cole, “She does this pompoir for you?”
Cole nodded and then glanced at Nicole.
“Tell him,” she encouraged keeping her face emotionless.
“Fucking wildest thing I’ve ever had done to me, Jim,” Cole laughed.
“Holy shit,” Jim mused, with a slow thoughtful voice. “The other call girls? Are they the same? With the training, and bubble popping?”
Nicole thought about this, “No, I don’t think so. Not to the levels of mastery I set for myself, no. I mean, I never asked them about what they do or how, but Gabriel would make them come over and visit several times a month, so they could talk with me.
“Many of them confided after a few visits, after we became more friendly, that since they started doing some of the things I described, their tips increased a great deal.”
“I bet they did,” Jim mumbled and looked out into space, leaning back a little. “So, she’s the star performer,”
For several long minutes, Jim simply sat, staring at nothing, while drumming his fingers together.
It could have been four minutes in real time, but it sure felt much longer to Nicole. Then Jim seemed to suck back into himself, like he had been out of the room all that time, taking a little stroll somewhere as he went through the problem.
She turned to Cole, but Cole didn’t seem to notice this and when it was over, she wondered if she really saw it herself, or if stress was finally bringing her down.
“Well, my lad,” Big Jim said to Cole, “I do believe we have truly stepped in it this time.”
“I’m thinking I smell it too,” Cole confessed. “Where do we start with the cleaning?”
Jim looked Cole over and then spared a glance toward Nicole, “I was right the first time, though it was just a joke then,” he told her when their eyes met.”
“Excuse me?”
“You took his heart, or at least the heart from his call girl group. You are the precious thing you took and I don’t believe anything else is going to satisfy him,” Jim explained and then leaned all the way back until his head was against the wall behind him.
“He probably thought he had at least another five years before he had to consider your appeal dissolving. But that’s not your fault or your concern. In five years, he would just be thinking the same thing — another five years of this Halloween being better than the last.”
Jim suddenly came forward and nailed Cole with his eyes, “Yep, a shit storm, lad. A real shit storm. The first thing we are going to do is clear you with the cops. You are going to ride down to your house with Jack, doing what I described with the weapons first. Nicole is going to be at the hotel or here, surrounded by members. The manager on at the hotel tonight is Mike, I believe. Good man.”
“I know him and I agree. He is a good man and skilled.” Cole nodded.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jim picked up his desk phone, hit some numbers, and waited, then said into the phone, “Brian still out there?” After he received his answer he said, “Good. Tell Brian I’ve got questions and also some work for him.” Then he cradled the phone again and refocused on Cole, “Brian will watch over your lady here until you are back. With him in the room and five men close by and us right across the street, I think she’ll be safe for a few hours while you clean up your back trail.”
Cole nodded, “Agreed.” Then he glanced at Nicole, “You all right with that?”
She nodded, “Sure. Won’t the cops want to talk with me, as well?”
“Seeing as you just left town, for parts unknown, they can want all they would like,” Jim told her. “We’re taking you off the grid for a while. Might be a couple of weeks before this settles. I can’t see Gabriel taking cash to settle this, at least not the kind of cash the club has available and I’m not paying him anything for Antonio or Davis.
He sighed. “That leaves only the possibility of war between us. He’s too bloodied already to back down and I’m too stupid, but I can’t see paying him for sending two enforcers to my man’s door and then saying sorry that they weren’t good enough to kill Cole. Fuck that.”
Nicole suddenly felt very concerned about being the reason a war was going to happen and Jim seemed to pick up on it right away, shaking his head in a slow, reassuring way, “The shit between us and Gabe has been brewing for years. Been brewing between us since before my time.
“Sure, you kicked the hornet’s nest, but it was going to blow sooner than later anyway. He’s pulled some serious stuff with us this year, but I’m not going to air that dirty laundry right now. Suffice it to say, you could be still with him and within a few months, we’d be at each other anyway. The timetable has changed, but the actions are all going to be the same.”
Nicole attempted to allow this news to make her feel better and failed, but she nodded, “Thanks.”
Jim nodded his head in return. “Good and settled. Cole? I’m probably going to need you back here at noon tomorrow for a powwow with the core. I’m sure I’ll hear from Gabe before then and get an ear full of his whining.” Jim turned his focus inside again and said, “I should catch him off guard and call him now. He may still be thinking his men have you.”
Jim smiled the wickedest grin Nicole had ever seen and picked up his cellphone, thumbed through some numbers, and then pressed the dial button. He shot a look of pure mischief at Cole who leaned forward listening intently.
“Gabe? Jim here. I got questions. Well Gabe, I’m sitting here asking myself why I’m on the phone with you when what I really should be doing is kicking your ass. But first, I would like to know why you sent three men to one of my member’s house with guns and violence in mind. He’s one of my best men, in fact, as your men found out.”
Jim listened for a bit, “No, no, he’s fine. It’s your men who are dead. But that makes no difference to me. That shit doesn’t fly and you’ve been throwing shit around for so long, a good ass-whooping might do you some good
. Get you back on track. Knock your head out of your ass.”
Jim listened again, smiling from ear to ear. He winked at Nicole, letting her know he was having far too much fun with this. “Yep, that’s how it looks from here. Both Antonio and that brainless twit Davis. Yes,” Jim then said with the slow and patient voice of a man who was heavily annoyed, “they are dead, Gabe. Well and truly dead. My man put them down on his doorstep, but like I said, that doesn’t matter. You are the one sending people at mine and I’m not having it.
“What? No, not a word, but that don’t matter to me either. If she left you, good, and I wish her well in her new life. In fact, if I happen to come across her, I may give her some cash to help her on her way.” Then his voice took on seriously angry tones, “Especially, if a call girl is your reason for sending enforcers to my man’s door. That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard and you’d better have something more reasonable than that to say or we won’t even bother with negotiations.
“Fine,” Jim said, after a long time listening, “That was my feelings on the matter anyway. Consider your ass-whooping on the way.”
Jim clicked his cellphone off, and then waited for a small span again to speak while he collected his thoughts. After this pause, he dialed another number and waited for it to answer, “George? Yep, Jim here. I want you on the phone as fast as you can, calling all the men working for that asshole Gabriel and pulling them out.
“Tell them to show up at the club and I’ll have some things to say in about two hours. After that, go through the roster and head off anyone working in the morning or near future.” Jim drummed his fingers, “Oh and you don’t need to bother with Brian, he already knows,” he added and then, after listening to George for a moment, answered, “Yes, it has been coming for some time. Should have cleaned this slate with him near the beginning of the year. Shit just keeps piling up.” He drummed his fingers once more, “Good. See you in a few then.”