by Korry Smith
“Did you pack up any of the makeup Dev gave to you?”
“I did,” I answered, still not knowing what the hell he wanted. “It’s in my purse. Why?”
Alex removed me from his embrace and pointed across the street at a restaurant: 801 Chophouse. “You can change and get ready over there.”
“But…” I hedged, giving him plenty of opportunities to do the right thing. “You’re not going to tell me why I’m doing this?”
“I’ll tell you when you come back.”
“No,” I said, digging my heels in the cracks of the sidewalk and refusing to go anywhere. “Tell me now.”
Alex narrowed his eyes, unwilling to budge, but knowing I was ten times more stubborn. “Fine then, we’ll play it your way.” He grabbed my shoulders and spun me towards the right at the Ritz-Carlton. “That’s where my parents are staying, and soon my father will be in the bar having a few drinks. I want you to go and seduce him.”
I sputtered. “What? No way!”
“You don’t have to sleep with the man. All I’m asking you to do is lead him back to a room. He’ll pay for it.” Alex could see from my revolted expression that he would have to be more convincing. He took it up a notch and put his hands on me. A simple touch of cradling my face and stroking me with his thumbs. “Make him believe that you’re available. I won’t be too far behind.”
I was bait, and it was just like that one movie with Will Smith and that girl from the Suicide Squad.
“We’re going to rob your father?”
“Yes.” It was simple and direct. “Do you think you can do it?”
“I don’t know.” My nails were taking a ferocious biting as I thought about what he asked me to do. I could do the deed of seducing his father, but it felt wrong, like I would be cheating on Alex. The pain of betraying him in such a way made me nauseated. “He won’t go for it. He’ll know.”
“How?”
“That guy!” My voice got high with excitement. “That guy on the street just a while ago. Pepe Le Pew.”
Alex chuckled. “Frankie?”
“Yeah, that guy! What if he told your dad about seeing you? He’ll recognize me and tell your dad who I am, and we’ll be caught.”
“Although, I do not doubt that he’s told my dad, knowing the senator, he probably assumes that I’ve skipped town. He won’t know who you are, and Frankie will be nowhere in sight to tell him. The senator cheats in secret.”
Pacing the sidewalk in my heels, I’m all out of excuses and my anxiety skyrocketed. “And you think I can pull this off?”
“I know you can,” he said, taking a step into my path, and holding my waist to keep me still. “You’re beautiful and young. My father won’t hesitate to approach you. I can guarantee it.”
In his world, everything sounded so easy, but shit didn’t work like that.
“So, I lead him up to a room, then what?” I asked, humoring him.
He shrugged. “Improvise until I get there.”
“Are you kidding me?” My eyes bulged out of my skull. “What if he wants to kiss me or…”
“It won’t get that far.” He was in my hair, pulling me close enough to hear his whispered plea. “I won’t allow it. Trust me, Madi. It’ll work. I need you to do this one thing for me, okay?” Then if that wasn’t enough to do me in, he used those gorgeous, unfathomable eyes of blue. “Baby, please?”
“Fine.” I groaned, exasperated.
Alex grinned from ear to ear, and if he weren’t so damn cute, I would smack the conceit right off him. “Now go get ready, we’re already late.”
801 Chophouse had a line out the door and people crowded by the large bull statue. The small girl in ripped skinny jeans, a Van Halen tank, and five-inch stilettos went disregarded as she squeezed her way through to the front. The hostess snubbed me when I asked for the bathroom and flicked her manicured nails to the right. It wasn’t too far from the oval bar and front door, so it was a surprise and a relief to find it empty.
I locked the door and changed into my awesome loot. The tattoo’s bandage had to go because the black cocktail dress was tight and form-fitting and didn’t take well to the bulging gauze. On the upside, it did suck in my gut and push up my boobs. I spent too much time staring at the mirror, and people started knocking on the door. Rushing through everything else, I took my hair out of its ponytail, I shook out the curls and fluffed it up to give it some needed volume. It would last for five minutes before going flat again, but I had zero time to do anything with it. My makeup was going to need to pick up the slack.
“Hold on!” I shouted as the pounding continued.
Luckily, my technique had improved.
A while back, during those few days when Alex was down in Mexico, and Nyx was over ‘babysitting’ me, Dev got into a slumber party mood. They ganged up and gave me a makeover. It taught me the basics of applying blush and eyeshadow. Dev said the most important features of a face were the eyes and lips, and if you magnified those, you would get heads to turn.
Taking her word as gospel, I applied black shadow to my eyes, added a dab of blush to the cheeks, and finished it off with clear lip gloss. It wasn’t much, but I had a feeling that my age and unassuming innocence would be my greatest selling factor.
“Okay, kid,” I said to my unrecognizable reflection. “Let’s go knock this out.”
Pulling and yanking the dress down, I threw my purse over my shoulder and walked out into a sea of disgruntled women. I apologized quietly and rushed towards the main dining.
The music stopped. Several forks clanked on the plates. There were murmurs. The feeling of unease of people watching me was intense. I tried to keep my gaze forward and not engage, but my curiosity got the best of me.
Raising my head up, I connected with several pairs of eyes. The people in the restaurant were silent, jaws slightly agape, and their stare followed my movement from one side of the room to the other. It had to be the short dress and the high heels that caught their rapt attention. Whatever it was, I picked up my pace and got the hell out of there.
Alex had moved from across the street and took a spot against the restaurant wall to lean on. He was heart-stopping in his usual attire of worn, faded jeans with holes in the knees, and a black tee-shirt and leather jacket. The blue illumination from his phone screen accentuated his beautiful face as Alex stared intently down at it.
I’ve been standing there for a minute or so, and he hadn’t looked up once. I tapped my heels on the concrete to alert him to my presence. Glancing up at me, he smiled, but then went back to texting. It was a slow delay and took a second for the image of me in a black mini to reach his psyche. When it did, his head snapped up, and his eyes were as wide as saucers. They couldn’t focus on just one thing. I giggled as he went from my breasts to my legs and up to my breasts again.
Seeing him get this flustered was well worth the trouble.
“Hi.”
“Jesus Christ, baby.” He closed his phone and focused all his attention on me.
“How do I look?” I asked, spinning for him so he could see every angle and aspect of the dress.
Alex kicked himself off the wall and grabbed me by the hips mid-twirl. “You have no fucking idea…” His sentence trailed off as his eyes squinted and landed on something behind me in the distance. Before I could ask him what it was, he swung my body around and towards the Ritz-Carlton. “All right, Frankie’s leaving.”
The man with the strange white streak was unmistakable as he waited in valet for his black sedan. I worried if we could see him, could he see us?
“Maybe we should…”
Alex spun me back around to face him. He searched my eyes to feel out my courage. “Are you going to be okay? We can back out and leave.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the concern for my safety or his arousal over my dress, either way, the offer was tempting, but my stubbornness to prove him of my worth outweighed my fear of failure.
“No, I can do this.” It surprised me ho
w strong and sure I sounded. “What does your dad look like?”
“He’s tall, like me, but blond.”
“Blond?” That was unexpected. “How old is he?”
“Forty-six. My parents married young.”
“Is there anything else I need to know?”
“He’ll proposition you. So, you go in there and sit down at the bar, order a fruity drink and wait.” He pulled out his phone and looked at the time. “It’s ten-forty right now. My mom usually takes her muscle relaxers and Ambien around ten. He’ll be waiting for her to pass out. That’s good. You might be able to beat him there.”
“Sounds simple enough. Where will you be?”
“I’ll be close by, and I won’t let that bastard touch you. I promise.” Placing his hands on the side of my face, he pressed his lips to mine. It was forceful and penetrating. My body sighed. Alex Ryan was a beautiful, all-consuming, a good-for-nothing bum, but mine. “There’s one more thing.” Breaking away from the kiss, he swung a new, one I’d never seen before, backpack to the side and opened the pouch. He emptied out the contents of my purse into his bag, leaving my gun, and then stuffing a few silk ties and stockings to replace my clothes.
I looked up at him questioningly. “When did you get all this stuff?”
“You had your job to fulfill, and I had mine.”
“Okay. But why do I need all these ties?”
“The fucker is kinky,” he said with a blasé shrug. “So, blindfold him, gag him, and bind his ass up to the bed. Do whatever you got to do to keep him well behaved until I get there. All right? I trust you, kid. You got this.”
This plan of his, as poorly hatched and not well constructed as it was, it could turn out to be fucking incredible or our one and only regret. It was hard to know for sure at this point, but I thrived on the unknown.
“You’re crazy, do you know that?” I asked, backing up and taking a step off the curb.
“I’m aware,” he replied with a bashful smile, shoving his hands in his pockets, and rocking back on his heels. “Be careful.”
“Please, I’m always careful,” I said and walked out into the street. A horn blared, and a black sedan swerved, missing me by inches. Alex’s eyes went wide, and his face paled. He held his chest to combat his mini heart attack. I grimaced, immensely embarrassed. “Starting now, I am.”
“Christ!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Will you just cross the street alive, Madi. Please.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving him off.
I haphazardly made it across the roundabout intersection by running and stopping, tripping, and stumbling. All done with considerable effort in my five-inch heels. It was more dangerous than stealing a Lamborghini. Eventually, I did make it to the red brick drive of the Ritz-Carlton without spraining my ankle. Up front, there was a tall and older man standing at the entrance. He eyed me curiously as I wobbled towards him. My heels were slipping and caught in the cracks of the brick road. I smiled, pushing my hair from my face, and feeling as though I should curtsey or something fancy like that.
He opened the large, lavish glass door and gestured me in. “Good evening, miss.”
“Evening,” I said, stopping short and facing him once again. “Um, where’s your bar?”
“The Lobby Lounge is straight back and to your right.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Have a good night, miss.” Then he tipped his hat.
The dimly lit Lobby Lounge had a hint of music in the background. Jazz, I presumed. There was a bar in the far back, deep cherry wood adorned the walls, and there were about five to six round granite top tables, surrounded by red leather chairs. It wasn’t that busy, and a few people were sitting back and drinking. I scanned the room for a blond-haired man in his late forties, but nobody fit the bill.
Sitting up at the bar, I crossed my legs and tried to look appealing. Alex gave me minimal instructions on how to act; only saying his father would approach me.
I tried to relax, taking deep breaths, and focusing my attention on the wall of liquor bottles. The bartender came around, and I ordered a cranberry Sprite. It felt good on my parched throat as I waited…and waited.
Thirty minutes went by and nothing. No one spoke to me or acknowledged my existence. Could Alex be wrong about his father’s cheating ways? I tried to imagine the senator up in the room with his wife being a loving and caring husband. Then that fantasy mutated into me being the wife and Alex being my loving and adoring husband. I’m not sure how long this daydream of mine played out, but by the time I looked back at the clock, an hour had passed. The lounge had cleared out, and the senator was a no-show.
Around eleven-fifty, I decided to call it a quits. I grabbed my purse and spun around on the bar stool, but my knees hit against a firm body and silky fabric. My jaw dropped as I came face to face with a dangerously handsome man. There were no doubts about it; despite the steely gray eyes and striking blond hair, he looked identical to Alex. I couldn’t help myself from gawking at him. He was an older version of the man I loved.
“Leaving so soon?” He took the seat on my right.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “No, I was just…”
“Stay then.” He smiled and swiveled my stool back towards the bar. “Have a drink with me.”
“Okay,” I said, setting my purse down on the counter, slightly shaky and hypnotized by this man.
“What are you having?” he asked, his eyes probing into mine.
“Shirley Temple,” I answered.
He was surprised by my choice but didn’t say anything, and just signaled the bartender over, ordering my drink plus a scotch on the rocks for himself.
We sat there silently sipping on our cocktails, neither of us offering up any conversation. I shifted in my seat, uncrossing my legs, and then crossing them again, the senator’s gaze following my movements the entire time.
“I’ve been watching you all night,” he said, never looking up from his drink, his hands clenching tightly around the glass.
The senator’s admission threw me off, sending my thoughts into a tailspin. All these questions were suddenly in my head. He was here the whole time, and I didn’t see him? How long had he been watching me? Did he see me with Alex? Was our plan already ruined before it even got underway?
Thankfully, I didn’t allow my inner turmoil to break through my calm demeanor. I casually swirled my drink with my straw, clinking the ice cubes up against the crystal. “Is that so?”
“Yes. I find you very intriguing,” the senator said, placing a hand on my thigh, inching higher and higher. The pad of his thumb idly made circular motions on my skin.
I wanted to shrink back and bat his hand away. The thought of him touching me so intimately was repulsive. I tried to keep the disgust off my face, needing him to believe that I would sleep with him.
“How old are you, beautiful?” he asked.
A part of me was going to lie and tell him that I was older than I was, but I remembered Alex saying that he liked them young, and I was as young as they come without breaking the law.
Inexperienced.
Innocent.
Pure.
Perfect.
“Eighteen,” I answered, peeking over at him. There was a twitch of a smile on his face, thinking that he’d just won the jackpot. I could see the lust in his eyes as he raked over my body, taking in the black mini and stilettos. “It's my birthday.”
He was making this shit way too easy.
“Happy birthday. Are you…” the senator paused, glancing around the lounge, and leaned forward, whispering into my ear, “...available?”
That was a gentleman’s way of asking if I was a prostitute, and I almost slapped him in his face. It was unsettling how aggressive he came off, right out of the gate. He reminded me a lot of Terry, which filled me with this overwhelming and unadulterated anger. I didn’t know Alex’s father, but I hated him.
That feeling fueled me, even more, to get him alon
e, away from these people, and into the hands of his criminal son.
I trailed my finger down the center of my cleavage. “I’m very available. Do you have a room?”
“Yes, I do,” he answered, overly eager. “Should we leave?” Even before I could answer, he was waving down the bartender, pulling out his Gucci wallet with shaky hands, and paying for our drinks with a single hundred.
Glancing behind me quickly, looking out towards the exit, I saw Alex, but only briefly as he passed the entrance of the lounge. He was there watching me, protecting me, and always keeping me safe.
“Are you ready, beautiful?” Alex’s father asked, redirecting my attention.
Sliding my hands up his thighs and inclining my body forward to close the short distance, I smiled. “Lead the way, Senator.”
The second those words left my mouth he narrowed his eyes with distrust and leaned away. He placed his hands over mine and squeezed, not hard, but enough to show me that the touch was unwanted.
“Why did you call me that?” he asked, voice strained.
He was suspicious of my motives now, sensing a setup, and rightfully so, but he was an idiot. Even if I weren’t trying to lure him into a robbery, I would have still called him ‘Senator.’
I smiled with ease, pulling my hand out from under his and tapped the pin on his lapel. It was a campaign badge with his name, Julian Ryan, and winning smile all over it. It was a flashing beacon and spotlight, showcasing who he was.
It was no secret.
He groaned, yanking it off and throwing it on the bar. He was quietly debating, deciding if the risk was worth the benefit. Did he honestly think as a public figure — a politician no less — that he could live a secret and adulterous life with no consequences?
I didn’t want him to change his mind, and the way he glanced around the bar, I knew he was close to doing just that. What I was about to do was a risky move, but I hoped that his little head would override his bigger and more rational one.
Sighing loudly in mocked frustration, I picked up my purse and stood from my stool. “If you’re not interested, I have other places to be.”
He gazed down at my legs, gradually moving up and focusing on my face. At that moment as his eyes combed over me, I wished for a better rack. Men loved tits, and although mine were decent, they weren’t Double-D massive. Making do with what I had. I slid my hand down my body and rested it on my hip, drumming my fingers impatiently.