Stilettos and Steel

by Jeri Estes

  I smiled at Lovey’s wisdom. “I’ll offer Prince a very simple deal. He gets Giuseppe, and we get a truce and the contract off my head.”

  “He’ll agree to your truce, Jesse,” commented Asian Pearl. “If he doesn’t, we can always call Scope to finish the job.”

  “I believe the other Fillmore pimps will want Prince to concede so we can all get back to work. Pearl, if Prince persists we will have to get more persuasive.”

  Doris frantically ran into the room. Breathless, she said, “Jesse, you better get back on stage. Joe’s here! He wants to make an entrance while Clancy is still in the audience.”

  “Oh, shit!” I said. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back,” I told my crew. Quickly, I ran down the stairs adjusting my tits.

  In a moment I was back on stage. Carla had just informed me and the audience that I would be performing in a duet from West Side Story. The band on stage jumped into the tune, “Somewhere.”

  I grabbed my mic and followed the spotlight. It landed on Joe Gomez in a sequined blue velvet jacket. His jacket sparkled like crushed diamonds as he walked with a huge saxophone toward the stage. Out of the darkness, Carmen’s voice magically rang out as the spotlight found her. “There’s a place for us ….”

  Slowly she walked, encircled in the light. Her auburn hair flowed as her hands reached out toward me. Like an angel in a white peasant dress, she called to me, “We’ll find a new way of living…”

  Our eyes met as we sang to each other. As the crowd rose to their feet with tears in their eyes, Carmen ascended the stage. Joe hovered behind with his saxophone, mournfully keeping her company.

  I stood in my blue gown, holding Carmen’s hand as we serenaded each other:

  “Somehow, someday, somewhere!”

  Chapter 32

  PINK ROSES

  Tuttle had the Jack Daniel’s waiting for me before I sat down on the bar stool at the Grapevine. The shot glasses sat back-to-back, filled with the dark amber liquid, a water glass behind them. A small glass ashtray was placed in front of me by tan, weathered hands. Tuttle’s eyes, illuminated by the large Schlitz Beer sign behind the bar, danced in the soft light.

  “Jesse, it’s great to see you,” Tuttle said. “The word on the street is that the truce between you and Prince is holding. Thank God because business is good again. Nothing is worse for business than a turf war.”

  I reflected on the wise old man’s words as he wiped the mahogany counter. “Yeah, Tuttle, that’s for sure. We’re celebrating tonight.”

  “I can see,” Tuttle laughed. “Are the roses and the pretty little bag for me?”

  I smiled back at the old booze pusher. “In your dreams. Can you put this behind the bar for me?”

  “Sure, Jesse,” the old man said as he took a large bouquet of pink roses and a small, lavender gift bag and placed them under the counter. I took a drag off my cig, watching the smoke drift into the darkness.

  The cease-fire between the Tenderloin queers and the Fillmore pimps had been earned in blood. Prince, a man of reason and limited capital, had agreed to a truce brokered by Bunny. She visited Giuseppe in the County Jail infirmary and had him contact Prince to negotiate a truce.

  Prince had agreed to meet with me and work out the details of the cease-fire. We were to meet at the Why Not cocktail lounge. I would be accompanied by Joe Gomez and Junior. Prince would bring Blondie the Swede and Bubble Gum Guppy along for the parley. The terms of the truce would be discussed over a couple of drinks.

  Every pimp, cop and hooker, along with Mayor Alioto, welcomed an end to the hostilities. The pigs were tired of working overtime. The terms of the truce were plain and simple. Giuseppe would beat the sales and distribution of heroin charges. The solid case would never make it to trial. Much to the embarrassment of the city, all the evidence would mysteriously disappear from the property room. The inquiry into why Giuseppe was found with two blown-out knee caps and a ton of dope would be dropped.

  Tuttle interrupted my thoughts by asking, “How’s Carmen doin’?”

  “Good, Tuttle. We’re both relieved all this bullshit is over.”

  “I bet. I know I’m glad you girls are all in one piece.”

  “This war scared the hell out of Carmen. She asked me if I would like to go to barber school. My girl thinks I would make a cute barber.”

  Tuttle’s sparkling blue eyes squinted as he gave me a deadly serious look. “She might have a point. It’s better to be a broke live barber than a rich dead pimp.”

  “Well, Tuttle, a thousand-dollar-a-night whore might find trying to live on a barbershop jockey’s salary a serious bummer.”

  “That’s true,” Tuttle agreed.

  “It’s a nice fantasy, old man, but I’m not dressing like a girl to cut guys’ hair. I’ve never been a weekend queer. Carmen knows I’d rather die from a bullet, free on the streets than from shame, hiding in the straight world.” I downed the shot of whiskey.

  Tuttle hit the wooden bar with a closed fist. “Don’t let any fucking straight person judge you ever. When we’re drunk enough, we’d fuck a snake if it would hold still.”

  Letting go a gut-busting laugh, I stood up and put a twenty on the bar. I was interrupted in the middle of my exit by Little Rosie rushing up to me with the corn-fed hooker in tow.

  “Where the hell have you girls been?” I asked the exhausted looking Linda from Missouri and my mischievous g-string princess.

  “We’ve been out shopping,” Rosie said, beaming. “We ripped through Macy’s. Them retail white broads are still spinning. They never seen two surviving turf war hookers shop. Uh-huh!” Rosie patted Linda’s ass as she ordered Tuttle, “Give my big sister a beer. Isn’t that what you big girls drink?” She asked Linda with a sassy leer.

  “Rosie, you’re such a bitch,” answered the sullen call girl.

  “Now girls, stop bickering. We have a lot to celebrate. In fact, we’re all goin’ dancing at Chuckkers later tonight! Why don’t you join us, Linda?” I asked the solemn Missourian.

  “No thanks, Jesse, I think I’ll just relax with my beer. Rosie wore me out. We couldn’t find one g-string in my size. Jesse… I really hate dancing. My legs are way too fat. I’m ready to go back on the escort circuit. I’m okay now.”

  I contemplated Linda’s request, a reasonable one at any other time. I had taken her off of the escort list after the kidnapping. She had been staying in the bordello with Marie during the hostilities. Her usual amiable temperament, though, had been interrupted by frequent bouts of rage. I had paired her up with Little Rosie, and she had started working at the Grapevine. I had hoped that the dancing and being free of Asian Pearl would help in her recovery. I considered it disability leave.

  Bunny and I had been concerned about her since the rape and torture she had experienced. Most disturbing was her mysterious disappearances from the house at all hours. Looking at Linda, I could see our rehab plan was not working.

  Little Rosie, irritated with my lack of attention toward her, dumped a shopping bag full of sequined g-strings onto the bar.

  “Have a drink with your baby girl, Jesse. I haven’t even seen you since the cease-fire. You don’t love me no more? Come on; pick a new g-string for me.” She leaned in close. “Maybe this one will be luckier and we won’t get caught.”

  “God knows I love your g-strings, Rosie, and I’ve missed you. I’ll have a drink with you and a dance at Chuckkers later. Right now, though, I’m going to Compton’s for dinner. Hey, old man, can you get me my stuff?”

  Tuttle—who was standing safely at the other end of the bar—said, “Sure Jesse.”

  As the phone rang, he reached under the counter and pulled out the dozen pink roses, my gift bag and placed them next to the g-strings. He walked back to the wall phone.

  Rosie excitedly grabbed the roses. “Oh, papi, they’re beautiful,” she said, inhaling the fragrance with an intoxicated glaze in her eyes. “What’s in the little bag for me?”

  Linda from Missouri sipped h
er beer and, too bored for words, sighed, “What makes you think it’s for you?”

  Before I answered Rosie, I weighed my two choices. Either I could tell Rosie the truth and risk hurting her feelings, or I could give her my gifts for Carmen.

  “Well, Rosie, I got Carmen the flowers and a little gift because it’s her birthday,” I lied.

  Rosie grabbed my arm, pulled herself up to the bar stool, and shot daggers at me. “Mentirosa! Bastardo! Carmen’s a fucking Taurus! You think I’m stupid?”

  “Rosie!” Tuttle called. “It’s the phone!”

  Unwilling to relinquish her death glare at me, Rosie shouted over her shoulder, “Who the fuck is it?”

  Tuttle dropped the receiver and it dangled from a cord on the wall phone. Shuffling past Linda from Missouri, he whispered to Little Rosie, “It’s your woman trick, the matron. She says she has to talk to you.”

  I nudged Rosie and said, “Don’t be rude. Helmet Head is one of your best johns.”

  Rosie grabbed the shot of rum Tuttle had just poured for her. She downed the shot and defiantly told me, “Fuck that pussy-jonesin’ dyke! She takes too long. If she gets any fatter, I’ll have to roll her in flour to find the wet spot.”

  We all watched as Tuttle turned an unusual shade of red.

  I extended my hand toward the flowers. “Listen, my little chi-chi mama, I just bought a house in South Sausalito, and me and Carmen are going to celebrate. Plus, we’ll all have a little getaway in case we have another turf war.”

  Rosie jumped off the stool and threw the bouquet of roses onto the floor. She put her hands on her hips and started yelling in Spanish, “Soy rosas roja! You think I’m not as good as Miss Flat White Bread!” She stamped her heel a few times. “Fuck pink roses!” she declared. “I know what’s in the bag, it’s a fucking ring!”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I said I just bought a house.”

  “You’re gonna play house?” Rosie hauled off and slapped me. “I can’t believe you’re marrying that bitch!”

  She took the tip of her shoe and ground a fresh pink rose into the cement floor. She looked at me with scorching eyes, “Don’t forget, I was your first girl.”

  I said wearily, “I’m late. I have to get to Compton’s. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Tuttle patted Rosie’s back and poured her rum. She downed her shot as the phone rang. Tuttle implored, “Rosie, it’s probably the Matron again. Talk to her!”

  “Tell the bitch to call me later!” Rosie demanded.

  “Get the phone, Linda.” Tuttle said, exasperated.

  Linda did as she was told. I hugged Rosie and said, “I’ll be at Compton’s in an hour. You can come and talk to me then.”

  Rosie burst into tears and took my handkerchief. She patted her eyes, smearing thick black mascara.

  “You never communicate with me, Jesse. You think I’m just a girl to party with. You should take me more seriously.” Rosie spoke with a strange malice in her voice. I tried to kiss her forehead goodbye, but Rosie pulled away. Her eyes bore into mine with a malevolent darkness.

  I looked away and called to Linda, “I’ll be over at Compton’s in an hour. You girls are welcome to join Carmen and me for dinner. Hey, Missouri, bring your little straight ass over to Chuckkers. We’re all going dancing tonight!”

  Linda lowered the receiver and shot me a huge smile.

  Chapter 33

  COMPTON’S

  Skipping up the wet steps, I entered Carmen’s building with my key and I headed down the elegant hallway. As I approached her apartment door, I heard the stereo playing. Aretha Franklin was singing Carmen’s favorite song, “Natural Woman.” I gave three fast raps. “Hi, baby doll,” I said with a smile as she opened the door.

  She stood before me in a cream-colored, Asian silk dress that draped the curves of her body like a gentle waterfall. The short sleeves barely covered her narrow shoulders. The Mandarin collar was closed at the base of her neck and red silk threads attached the chic golden buttons. Embroidered Asian fans with shimmering emerald tassels ran down the ridges of her breasts.

  Her gaze held a smoldering heat as she waited for me to enter. At that moment I realized that Carmen was the only girl for me. Carmen threw her arms over my shoulders, pulled me close and kissed me.

  She tugged me into the apartment and I set the gift bag down on the coffee table en route. She jumped on me, kissing my open mouth, her stilettos off the ground, her legs wrapped around my waist. She moaned in desire as she felt my strap-on press against her. I slipped my hands into the slits of her dress and felt her smooth, inviting bare ass in my hands.

  While her mouth stayed locked on mine, sucking my tongue, I carried her to the bedroom. I threw her down on the bed and ripped off my jacket. As she seductively lay there, Carmen teased me with her legs and freshly painted red toenails. Slowly she curled one leg up, bending at the knee as she slowly traced the side of her defined calf with her Italian stiletto.

  Unhurriedly, I unbuckled my gun holster and hung it on the bedpost. I flung my black Stetson across the room onto her dresser and crawled onto the bed like a panther stalking its prey. With a giggle she squirmed on the bed, moaned and whispered, “No.”

  “Don’t say no to me, young lady,” I whispered back like a playful daddy. “I’m gonna get you!”

  She pulled me down and wrapped her arms and legs around me. Lying on top of her, I felt her breasts press against mine. She frantically undid my belt, reached into my pants and grabbed my cock. With a moan and a thrust of her pelvis she slipped me inside her.

  I became lost in the rhythm of our bodies fucking. I kissed Carmen hard as she shuddered and whimpered in burning spasms of ecstasy.

  When her breathing slowed to normal, she whispered into my ear, “I love you, Jesse.”

  She kissed me and held my face in her hands. I ran my fingers through her hair and tenderly kissed the top of her closed eyelids. I pulled back, looked into the now serene, glazed eyes that had burned with lust a few minutes earlier and asked with a gentle smile, “Why were you so hungry for me tonight?”

  She let out a deep sigh as she played with my hair. I leaned on my elbow and searched her green eyes.

  Carmen confessed, “I’ve been so afraid. Every day I expected to get a phone call from Junior telling me you were dead. I’m glad it’s all over, that it’s just you and me now.”

  I slowly rocked her in my arms. As I held her, I felt her hand reach, moving up my inner thigh.

  I stopped her hand in its tracks. “We’ll come home early. We have all night to make love.”

  Carmen giggled and said, “I’m holding you to it.”

  I got up from the bed, grabbed my jacket off the floor and said, “I’m sorry we had to go through this bullshit. We’re safe now.”

  “I guess…as safe as anyone can be in the Tenderloin,” said Carmen.

  “That’s true. We might have to wade through a little more bullshit. But I think the worst is over. Now it’s back to taking care of business.”

  Carmen got herself together and went into the bathroom.

  I was pouring myself a shot of Jack when I heard her ask coquettishly, “What did you get me, honey?”

  I swallowed the shot and responded, “Guess!”

  Carmen entered the living room and sat on the couch waiting for me to join her. I decided to pour myself another shot of Jack.

  Carmen watched me. “That looks good. It’s so chilly outside. I’m in the mood for a little whiskey too. Pour me one, okay?”

  I was surprised that she would have Jack and not her usual Tom Collins. I poured the shot and sat next to her on the couch.

  We toasted as I said, “Here’s to the truce! Let’s enjoy it!”

  We downed the Jack and Carmen looked towards the lavender bag as she began to guess what was in it. “Is it a ring, Jesse?”

  “No.”

  “Is it an emerald bracelet?”

  “No.”

  “
Is it a strand of white pearls? Huh?”

  “No.”

  “Let me see what’s in there!” Carmen got up and opened the bag, pulling out a gold business card holder. Stunned, she read the words, “Baby Doll” on the face of the card holder, spelled out with inlaid emeralds.

  She hesitantly opened the card holder.

  I mischievously said, “What’s it say? Read it to me!”

  She pulled out a lavender-colored business card and read, “Carmen’s Fine Jewelry of Sausalito.” Once she understood its meaning, a teardrop streaked across her face.

  “Does this mean what I think it does?”

  “Well, I know you wanna leave the life. It’s fine with me. I kind of like the idea of visiting my old lady in the suburbs. I’m not quitting, but you can. I bought you a jewelry store.”

  In a soft, faraway voice she said, “I never thought I’d get out. I never thought I would live to get out of the TL.”

  She looked up at me and searched my eyes. “Are you sure about this, Jesse? Are you really saying that I am owner of a jewelry store and that I can give up my johns?”

  I kissed her hand and smiled. “This is a good investment. I’m kinda getting hooked on the legit business crap anyway. It’s a nice sideline.” Pulling away, I snapped my fingers. “This is a good gig. You’re the front and I’m your silent, invisible dyke partner. It’s about time the burbs got a taste of the TL.”

  Carmen gave an excited giggle and said, “You are a bad boy.”

  “Come on, retail momma. I’ll tell you all about it at Compton’s. I’m hungry. We’ll be meeting up with the gang at Chuckkers later. Let’s go, baby doll.”

  “It’s gonna be fun. It’s been a long time since we could all party together,” said Carmen.

  I began to walk to the door when Carmen gently touched my arm. I turned back to her as she said, “Hold me, Jesse!”

  I wanted to get going, but in that moment I conceded and held her as she dropped her head onto my chest.