by Marie Astor
“That’s right. Janet is great at doing the prep work, and you are great at nailing the leads. At least you usually are, and I hope that you won’t disappoint this time.”
“No, sir. However, I hope that you’ll agree with me that Janet deserves another chance to finish her reconnaissance at Panther. She just needs a little bit more time. Libby and his wife had dinner at Panther last night. It was their anniversary.”
Ham leaned forward. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes. They ordered lobster bisque for the first course; Libby had steak and his wife had duck, followed by chocolate soufflé, and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.”
“Did they dine on the house?”
“No, they paid the bill, although Libby turned out to be a cheap tipper.” Dennis repeated Janet’s feedback.
“Anything else besides Libby’s gastronomical habits?”
“That’s it for now, but there’s got to be more. Janet and I both got a hunch.”
“Well then, it’s time to close the Libby case.”
“With all due respect, sir, this just isn’t right.”
“With all due respect, I’m still your boss and you’ll follow my orders. Unless, of course, you’d like to open your own agency; then you can pursue any assignments you see fit.” Ham rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry, Dennis, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is that we’ve spent more than enough resources on Libby; it’s time to move on. I trust that you will communicate my decision to Janet, or should I do it personally?”
“I think it will be best if I deliver the message, sir,” Dennis said, wondering how he was going to break the news to Janet. It was a rotten situation with him getting all the credit, and Janet being pushed to the side. He hadn’t intended for this outcome; at least not consciously, or could it be that Janet was right, and he just couldn’t help being in the center of things? “Can you at least give her until tomorrow to wrap up?”
“Fine.” Ham nodded. “Now let’s get down to business. I have to call the Feds to tell them about the nice little present that we have for them and to arrange for some training for you. You’ve got to be at the top of your game tomorrow, Dennis.”
***
Janet checked her watch; she still had hours to go before the end of her shift. Mila was back at work, but it was really busy at the restaurant, and the two of them didn’t get a chance to talk. It was probably for the best, lest Janet inadvertently betray her knowledge of Mila retaining Dennis’s services. Somehow, Janet found herself torn between the obligations of her job and a desire to warn Mila. It’s a trap, get out while you still can, she wanted to whisper into her ear, even if their friendship was only make-believe. Sure, finding Muller’s money would be great for Dennis and her, but somehow it just didn’t seem right to do it at Mila’s expense. She wondered if Dennis was ever bothered by such scruples. He claimed that he was, but he seemed to have a lot less trouble with it than Janet.
She had just finished servicing her last table, which left her with a fifteen-minute window before the next one. She needed some air. To avoid passing the hostess stand, Janet opted for the delivery entrance, exiting on the other side of the building. It was getting chilly, and she only had her uniform on. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and inhaled the cool air in an effort to clear her mind, but it was no use. Her brain kept wondering about Mila’s reaction to Dennis’s true identity. Would she scream and claw at his face? Or would she break down in tears? Or maybe she would channel her seductress streak to get him to run away with her? Not that Janet worried about Dennis’s moral compass; when it came to their job, she knew that he would always do the right thing. It was just that sometimes doing the right thing required making very tough choices.
Janet was about to go back inside when she noticed Roman walking toward her. Shit, she thought, looking for cover. Luckily, he was still a block away and was too busy talking on his cell phone to notice her. She ducked inside and was about to sprint back upstairs, but curiosity got the better of her, and she left the door ajar, pressing herself against the other side of the wall.
Roman’s footsteps neared the door and Janet felt herself trembling. What if he walked inside and saw her? She hadn’t thought of that, had she? She was about to seek cover in the depths of Panther’s delivery room when she heard Roman’s footsteps halt.
“What do you mean we’re short staffed?” Roman growled. “Marina called in sick? Then go and yank her out of bed. Drug overdose? Jesus Christ! Sampling the latest shipment? Whose idea was that? Just wait until Petr hears about this! You’ll be the one sick.” Roman spat on the sidewalk. “Can’t you use one of the escort girls to fill in?”
Janet felt her adrenaline pumping. Escort girls? Drugs? So all those rumors about Kovar were true! She wished she could morph into the wall to keep listening.
“They’re all busy?” Roman smirked. “At least some good news. I’m not surprised; Americans love Czech girls. Then you’ll have to be the host tonight. Yeah, I know you’re a bouncer, but I can’t just bring in someone off the street. It’s your problem—you fix it.”
Roman cursed loudly in a mixture of English and what Janet assumed was Czech. She heard the sound of a lighter being lit and a faint smell of cigarette smoke trailed through the door. She took her cue and sprinted back upstairs where she literally bumped into Mila.
“Where were you? Your table is waiting for you,” Mila snapped.
“Sorry,” Janet panted. “Just taking a break.”
“Everything all right?” Mila gave her a once over. “Is Roman bothering you again?”
“No, no, everything is fine. Just needed some fresh air.”
“Listen, I’m going to take tomorrow off. I need to run some errands; I’m planning a surprise for Anton’s return,” Mila added, eyeing Janet closely.
“Sure,” Janet replied, careful not to reveal her knowledge of Mila’s arrangement with Dennis. “Do you want me to fill in for you?”
“That’d be great. Or I’ll never hear the end of it from Roman.”
“I’ll be glad to do it.”
“Great, thanks.”
“No problem. Happy to help.” Janet ducked her head and made a beeline for her table. Her heart was beating like a sledgehammer; somehow, some way, she had to get Roman to pick her as a hostess replacement for Petr Kovar’s secret club.
Once she left her table’s order with the kitchen, Janet took a peek at the hostess stand. This was her chance; Mila had stepped away, and Roman was all by himself. It was a long shot, but it was better than no shot at all.
Janet sauntered over. “Hey there, Roman.”
“Hello, Janet.” Normally Roman was much more enthusiastic about seeing her, and now, his lukewarm response made her regret threatening Roman’s manhood the day before.
“I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to say that I thought about your offer about hosting, and if it still stands, I’d like to take you up on it.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s great. Mila’s taking another day off tomorrow, so I’ll need you to step in.”
“Yes, she told me. I’ll be glad to. If there’s anything else you need me to help with, I’m always glad to lend a hand.” Desperate, Janet lingered. What was she supposed to say? Hey, Roman, I hear you’re in need of a hostess replacement for your uncle’s undercover escort and drug procuring club, and I’ll be glad to offer my services? She was about to walk away, when Roman stopped her.
“Janet, how would you like to earn a little extra money?”
“I have to pay my rent every month, so I’m always glad to make a little extra money.”
“Good. I’ve got another job that I could use you on.” Roman paused, rubbing his chin. “There is another restaurant that my uncle owns; it’s only for select clients. The hostess called in sick, and we need a girl to fill in. Don’t worry—no funny business. All you’ll need to do is smile and greet guests.”
“I can do that.”
“What time does your shift end tonight?”
“I’ll divide your tables between other waitresses. Be ready to leave at eight o’clock, and don’t say anything to Mila about this. I’ll deal with her.”
“Great.”
“Meet me outside of the service entrance at eight o’clock, sharp.”
“I’ll be there.” Janet walked back to take care of her table, hoping that the havoc inside her head was not manifesting itself on her face.
The question that kept running through her mind while Janet recited the ingredients of truffle stuffed pheasant to the patrons at her table was what should she do next? The reasonable thing to do, the right thing to do, was to call Ham and Dennis for backup. What if Roman smelled a rat? Her only chance for payoff would be ruined. She always followed the rules; in fact, it was something that Dennis had criticized her for at times. There had to be some leeway, he liked to say, some room for improvisation. So maybe it was time she took Dennis up on his advice.
As Janet placed the order with the kitchen, her mind was made up; she was going to see this thing through, come hell or high water. If things turned rough, she could stand up for herself after all, Dennis did show her those self-defense moves and there was a bottle of mace in her purse.
“You didn’t tell me you had a date with Roman, you sly fox!” Mila caught Janet by surprise, while she was waiting for Jason to mix the drinks for her table.
“I didn’t—” Janet stammered.
Mila raised her hand. “You won’t get a lecture from me, sister. I say good for you. Congratulations! Just make sure you get him to treat you right from the beginning. No home cooked meals and no nights in. Make him take you around town. Sorry, Jason, it looks like you missed your chance,” Mila threw over her shoulder as she walked away.
Jason looked up from his task. “You and Roman?”
“It’s just one date,” Janet conceded, guessing that Roman had used it as an excuse to conceal the real reason she’d be getting off work at eight.
“I would’ve never thought.”
Janet shrugged. “He was very persistent.”
“You just be careful out there, Janet. Here’s my number, just in case.” Jason slid his card across the bar. “Take it,” he added, noticing Janet’s hesitation.
“Thanks.” Janet picked up the card. It read: Jason’s Cocktails: Libations for Special Occasions. Underneath was a phone number.
“Just a little something I’m doing on the side,” Jason explained. “Don’t tell anyone in this place though. I wouldn’t want the management to sue me for using Panther’s cocktail recipes, not that I would ever serve that junk to my clients.”
“I won’t. It’ll be our secret.” Janet smiled, tucking Jason’s card into her pocket. Somehow, she felt much better for having it.
Chapter 14
At eight o’clock sharp, Janet made her way to the service entrance, just as Roman had instructed her. He was already there, waiting for her.
“Great, you’re right on time,” he observed in a businesslike tone. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” Janet followed him, her confidence suddenly sinking. What the hell was she doing? For all she knew Roman could strangle her right then and there and hide her body in Panther’s freezer.
“Oh, and Janet, I hope you won’t take it the wrong way about me telling Mila that we had a date,” Roman added, as though sensing her tension. “I’m sorry about the way I acted before. I can see now that you’re not like Mila or the rest of the girls at the restaurant who are only too eager to jump on a guy as long as he’s got money.”
Janet didn’t know any of the girls at the restaurant who’d be “eager to jump” on Roman, but she decided that right now was not the best time to contradict him.
“Most guys in my place would be pissed, but I’m man enough to move past it. Now, we can both help each other out. You’ll make some extra cash, and I’ll get out of a bind. It goes without saying that I don’t want my brother to know anything about this, so let’s keep this between us.”
“Of course. I understand.” Janet kept her response short for fear of her voice trembling.
“It was real classy the way you handled that Libby guy yesterday. He’s a real big shot, and you knew that right away. The place where you’re going to work tonight will be filled with people like that. So I need you to be extra nice to them.”
“Got that. I’ll put on my brightest smile.”
“Great. Oh, I almost forgot.” Roman handed Janet four one hundred dollar bills. “You’ll get the other half at the end of the night.”
Janet followed Roman along the length of the building until he stopped in front of a utilitarian metal door, the kind of door that usually leads to service entrances. On the door was an electronic lock, and Roman punched in a complicated sequence. He opened the door a crack (the door turned out to be much thicker than it looked when closed) and motioned for Janet to go inside what looked to be a cluttered storage room. Almost every inch of the concrete floor was crowded with huge cardboard boxes, random pieces of furniture wrapped in plastic, and more cardboard boxes.
“This way,” said Roman. He navigated through the narrow spaces between the boxes and led Janet to the far wall of the room. There was another metal door with another electronic lock that Roman opened. “Watch your step,” Roman cautioned her, as he flipped on the switch, and a solitary light bulb revealed a steep staircase leading down.
It was so quiet that Janet could hear the clicking of her heels as she followed Roman down the stairs, holding on to the railings for dear life. At the bottom of the stairs there was another set of doors which Roman opened, ushering her into an anteroom separated by a thick set of black drapes.
When Roman parted the drapes, Janet felt as though she had been transported to one of Las Vegas’s swankiest casinos. The walls were covered with thick maroon upholstery and lush carpeting covered the floor that offered gambling tables for every taste: roulette, black jack, and craps, with more options in the back of the room which Janet couldn’t yet make out. On the left side was a bar with spirits of all kinds and varieties displayed on the shelves along the wall. There was a dining area next to the bar with intimate looking tables lit by shaded lamps. Except for the bartender who was busy polishing the glasses at the bar and three people tidying the game tables in the back of the room, the place was empty.
“We don’t open until nine,” Roman explained.
“This place looks great,” Janet observed, her heart beating like a trapped bird. “Thanks for letting me earn some extra cash. I can really use it.”
“You’re welcome, but I have to warn you that it won’t be easy money.”
“I wasn’t counting on it.” Just then, Janet saw a woman walking towards them. She was in her mid-twenties with blond shoulder-length hair, long legs, and heavily made-up face. She was dressed in a very short skirt that exposed her gartered stockings, and a lace corset that left her large breasts bouncing out in the open. Janet bit her lip; Roman’s warning just acquired a whole new meaning.
“What’s that I hear about us being short a hostess today?” the woman asked, glowering at Roman and ignoring Janet. She spoke with an accent, similar to Mila’s, but a much heavier version. “If you think I’m going to host, you can forget it. I already have my hands full with the game tables.”
“Don’t worry, Regina. Janet is going to do the hosting tonight. Why don’t you show her to the dressing room so she could change?”
“How are you?” Regina asked, her tone making it clear that she couldn’t care less about the answer. “Come on, the dressing room is in the back.”
“Thanks.” Janet followed Regina on wobbling legs; right now calling Dennis for back up felt like a very good idea.
“Don’t worry, the hostess dress isn’t topless,” Regina assured her. “I think you and Marina are about the same size. It might be a bit big in the chest though.” Regina handed Janet a midnight blue sequined gown. “Try it on.”
Janet tried not to l
ook squeamish as she slipped out of her dress with Regina standing right there. The gown’s sequins brushed like fish scales against her skin as she put it on.
“Fits like a glove in the hips,” Regina observed.
“I’ll need a strapless bra,” Janet added, pointing at the dress’s halter top.
“You’ll need a bigger set of boobs to fill out this dress,” Regina added.
Janet had never lacked in the boobs department, but the previous owner of the dress was extremely well endowed.
Regina rummaged through a chest of drawers that stood against the wall, producing a strapless bra. “This should help. It’s got lots of padding.”
Janet undid the halter and put on the bra.
“Here, let me help you tie it.” Regina pulled up the halter ties to compensate for the empty space. “Looks like we’re in business,” she added.
Janet surveyed her reflection in the dusty mirror on the wall. With Regina’s help, the dress now looked like it was almost the right fit.
“Just fix your makeup and you’ll be good to go,” Regina added. “Oh, and the shoes.” She held up a pair of navy sequined stilettos.
Janet squeezed her feet into the shoes and flinched, instantly feeling her toes squashed. “What size are these?”
“An eight, I think.”
“I’m a nine. Can’t I wear my own shoes?” Janet threw a longing glance at her pumps.
“House rules require uniforms. Now fix your face and we’ll go back upstairs. It’ll be opening time soon.”
Janet directed her attention to the mirror. She had refreshed her makeup before leaving Panther, but apparently the requirement was to cake it on like Regina. At least Janet had her own makeup with her; it was bad enough that she was wearing someone else’s dress and brassiere. She applied a generous serving of blush, rimmed her eyes with black eyeliner, and added three extra coats of mascara, topping it all off with a hefty coat of mauve lipstick. “How’s that?”
“Better,” Regina conceded. Of course compared to Regina’s fake eyelashes, eye shadow extravaganza, and a thick layer of foundation, Janet looked like an amateur. “Let’s go upstairs.”