Maybe she wouldn’t.
He peered through the dirty blinds at the serene cemetery across the street from his apartment. The granite headstones fairly gleamed in the brilliant moonlight. June Dingwerth’s bony finger had rung Death’s doorbell twice—that he knew of—but always, she had recovered. There was no reason to believe this time would be any different. That is, unless someone didn’t want her to. He drained his wine glass, and headed for the back bedroom to undress. He had a sickening feeling he knew who that person might be.
The phone rang before he unbuttoned his starched shirt. Eleven o’clock was late by most people’s standards, but not Dr. Hart’s. Any time of the day or night, his phone rang. Why not now? “Yes,” he said in a low voice, his fingers curling around the receiver. He had a feeling he knew who it was. He wasn’t disappointed. The caller spoke, and his brown eyes twinkled. “Why, hello there Marc,” he said.
Luther wasn’t absolutely sure now, but he was sure enough. He’d never seen that pink Cadillac before, but he was sure he’d seen that white guy somewhere, at least once. Was it yesterday, or the day before? Here he was, back again, for the happy hour. The thing was, Luther wondered, what should he charge for his fine parking?
He took a swig of root beer from an amber bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He guessed the thing to do would be to ask the guy if he intended to leave it overnight. Yep, that would help him decide how much to charge.
Hey, the guy was walking toward him now. “How much do I owe you?” he heard him say.
As he got closer, Luther noticed the gash in his face, and the bruises on his face. A mild breeze ruffled his brown hair. Even with his face all banged up like that, Luther still thought he was a nice looking guy—for a white guy, that is. Luther sniffed the air. Wowser, somebody sure had a lot of cologne on, and all Luther could think was, it wasn’t him.
Luther had to fight with himself to avoid staring at that gash. He couldn’t help himself. He just had to ask. “Hey, what’d you do to your face?” he said. He could tell he’d struck a very raw nerve.
“Give me a break. I was in an accident, okay? That okay with you? Now, how much do I owe you?”
Until just now, Luther had actually felt sorry for this guy. But right now, well… “That depends.”
“On what?”
“What you think? On how long you park. Lots of people use my fine parking, bye the bye.”
The white guy with the gash in his forehead was thumbing through his wallet now. A frown crinkled his brow. “Thought I had more cash on me than that.” He handed Luther two twenty-dollar bills. “Look, I’m sorry I was a jerk a minute ago. I’m driving this heinous car that belongs to my mother-in-law, and let me tell you, I feel like a fool.”
Luther took another swig of root beer, and again, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “A fool? Why? It runs, don’t it?”
“Well, yeah.”
“What’s the matter, then?”
“The color, man. It’s pink. It’s not me, okay? Look, I’ve got to go. Put it in the overnight, willya?” He winked at Luther with a twinkle in his eye, and Luther understood. What Luther didn’t understand was him using his mother-in-law’s car to do it. The guy was either crazy or stupid, whoever he was. Whoever he was, he was planning on one long happy hour.
He had barely climbed behind the steering wheel when he saw them; it was the black Mercedes, with Rocky driving. Man, this was weird, is what it was. Now, it was all coming back to him. These guys had shown up on the same day before, maybe was it last week or so? That white guy’s name was Dan. Hey, maybe somebody was being followed, how about that? He waited while Rocky hustled up to the driver’s window on the Cadillac.
“Wassup?” Luther said. “I’ll be with ya’ll soon as I park this Caddy in the overnight.”
Right away, Luther knew he had said something wrong. He didn’t know what, but Rocky looked like he had seen a ghost. Couldn’t let him stop him from doing what he told Dan he would do, though. If Rocky done seen a ghost, Luther figured he could see one all by himself.
They were still there when he returned, Rocky and that white-haired guy he liked to drive around for fun. Luther walked around to Rocco’s open window. Rocco waved a fifty-dollar bill in front of his face. “Want to tell us about the driver of the pink Cadillac?”
The fifty looked tempting—easy too. But, what in the… “Look, you want to tell me what’s going on here?” he said.
“No,” Giles said. “We would like for you to tell us.”
Luther had been around enough to know at least one thing. Anybody willing to pay cash to tell him what was going on must think that something ba-a-ad was going down. Luther studied the fifty and decided Mr. Overnight might be worth a hundred, what do you think gentlemen? Of course, he didn’t have a whole lot of information to divulge, or he would have gone higher. Sure looked to him like these guys had a few bucks. He waited while Giles peeled off another fifty. Rocco placed it in Luther’s palm. “Okay for you?” Rocco said.
Luther grinned. “Sure. It’s just fine. You boys up for a root beer?” As he spoke, he noticed Giles’ face assume the shade of a beet. His expression was grim, though contained.
“First of all sir,” he said, “you should know that the Cadillac belongs to my wife. At the moment, June is too ill to drive, and so I suppose young Daniel borrowed her car. Yes, I suppose that’s the way it must have gone.”
“Well, looks to me like you got it all worked out for yourself then,” Luther said. “I’ll just be on my way.”
“Not quite so fast,” Giles said. “I believe you were well paid for your time here. Did Daniel happen to tell you where he was going?”
“Overnight?” Rocco said.
Luther thought for a moment, and realized Dan had never actually told him he was going to the Hotel Charlotte, or to a cocktail hour. Luther had only assumed as much. After all, it was where he went the last time, wasn’t it? “Can’t exactly say,” said Luther, “because he didn’t.”
“But you did put June’s Cadillac in the overnight parking?” Giles said.
“Yessir, I parked a Cadillac in the fine overnight parking, because that’s what the man say he want.” Luther shrugged. “But, he could always come back early now. People do that.”
“Tell you what,” Giles said. “I’d like to stop and check on something at the Hotel Charlotte. Rocco, could you please pull my car into a space?”
“Hey, just toss me the keys there, and I’ll pull it in for ya’ll,” Luther said.
“No,” Giles said, with a stern undertone in his voice. “Rocco will do it. In fact, he will wait for me while I pay a short visit. You don’t mind, do you, Rocco?”
“No, sir.” Rocco guided the Mercedes into the nearest spot.
Luther sensed their distrust. Well, he guessed he didn’t blame them. He was keeping the hundred bucks, though. And, so it was that he said nothing when he happened to spy Dan with a beautiful dark-haired beauty, strolling down the opposite side of the street, even as Giles and Rocco strode into the Hotel Charlotte.
He grabbed his bottle of root beer and finished it off. When he looked up, neither Giles and Rocco, nor Dan and his lady friend was anywhere to be seen. Anyways, it was time for him to get back to work and stop his playing with these fools. He didn’t like any of ’em too much anyways.
“Why don’t we just take your car?” Leila said, her slender body pressed firmly beside Dan’s. The fierce November wind whipped their flushed faces while they stood beside the curb, waiting to hail a taxi.
“It’s a long story,” Dan said, his arm raised to signal the oncoming cab. “Let’s just say my car is in the shop.”
“Okay,” Leila said, “let’s just say that. Right before we say why we couldn’t just stay in my hotel room tonight.”
A fine dust coated the backseat of the cab. Dan thought it smelled like an old man’s closet. A used cigarette butt lay on the cold, hard floor. The brooding driver stared straight
ahead, even as he gunned the engine and sped through a red traffic light. Dan wondered if he spoke English.
“Let’s just say that tonight, it’s my turn to entertain you,” he said. “I thought I would surprise you.”
“Where are we going?”
“That’s my surprise.” He flashed The Smile and leaned forward in the seat. “Take a turn at the next stop sign, right? You know The Lantern subdivision?”
Still, the driver didn’t utter a word, nor did he turn to answer. He simply nodded. Leila said nothing. Instead, she placed her long fingers on Dan’s thigh. With the other hand, she reached to pull his face closer… his lips to hers. Despite her gentle touch to his bruised cheek, he winced.
“You are going to tell me what happened, or no?” she said.
Suddenly, the taxi jerked to a stop. Indeed, they had reached the entrance to the cluster of suburbia called The Lanterns.
“Hang a right,” Dan said.
The driver seemed unfazed by his direction, though he made a right turn as requested. Dan began to wonder if the guy was mute. Leila’s hand was moving higher on his thigh now, not that he didn’t enjoy the attention. He did. But this driver, he needed explicit directions.
They passed expansive, lavish ranch-style homes, constructed of brick sometime in the 1970’s. Most had blazing porch lights framing the enameled front doors, which sat a considerable distance from the street. Mature oak and maple trees dotted the yards. Ah, here we are, the Hunter residence.
“Stop here, please,” he said. When the car continued to roll, Dan slapped the gray vinyl that covered the backseat. “Stop!” What was going on with this guy? He wondered if he was ever going to turn around, or for goodness sake, talk! Dan stole a glance at the clock on the grimy dashboard—seven o’clock. Good. Bunny should be at the hospital by now, or the gym, or wherever she said she was going. He couldn’t remember and he didn’t care. He snatched a twenty from his thin wallet and offered it to the driver. “Keep the change,” he said.
Actually, he wasn’t sure how much the fare had been. He knew one thing. That twenty was the last of his cash. He would have to ask Bunny or Giles for more money. Well, he wouldn’t worry about that now. Without a word, the driver sped away, and briefly, Dan realized something else. Somehow, someway, that guy looked familiar. Still, he couldn’t place him. He was probably mistaken. Yeah, that was it.
“Why are we here?” Leila said.
They stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of Dan’s house, directly in front of the long walk that led to the pastel pink front door. Well, it had been Bunny’s idea, of course, and of course, Dan had said, ‘of course.’ He tried to put his arm around her, but Leila shoved him away with a shudder.
“Tell me just one thing,” she said in a voice trembling with anger, “tell me this is not your house.”
Dan’s heart sank. Should he lie? Across the street, a porch light flicked on, while a dog barked, probably from boredom. He needed to get inside—fast—before someone saw him with Leila. She was, after all, famous, at least, in the social circles that surrounded Dan and the rich, radiant Dingwerths. His house? No, he decided. Another glance at the painted pink door told him what he needed to say.
“I’m getting a divorce, Leila. This is, you know, it’s technically still my house, but that will be changing.”
Big smile on her beautiful face, thank the moon and the stars above!
“You make me so happy,” she said, hugging him.
He wanted to kiss her badly, so badly, but all he could think was, get up those steps and into that house before…
“Danny!”
Oh no! Leila jumped away from him. There were only three people in the world that called him Danny, like that. Of course, there was Bunny, but then, there were those two friends of hers—what did she call them—Puffy, Catty? In a flash, he wondered, did any of the people in Bunny’s life have real names? Lo and behold, when he found the courage to turn around, he was indeed face to face with Bunny’s Best Friends. Tonight was not his night.
“Hey, how are you?” was what he said.
Penny giggled. Candy giggled. What a surprise.
“We’re fine,” Penny said. “We were just on our way over to Ivymount to see Mrs. Dingwerth.”
Great. Now they were staring at Leila. Even better.
“Do you know how she’s doing?” Candy said. Her vacuous stare roamed the length of Leila’s fabulous form.
“Who?” Dan said. His hands trembled. Would they tell Bunny they saw him with another woman? What would he tell Bunny? Candy giggled. Why were these girls laughing all the time?
“Bunny’s mama, silly,” Candy said. At the mention of Bunny’s name, Dan sensed Leila’s panic.
“Actually, Catty…” he said.
“It’s Candy.”
Ouch. Candy glared at him, in the same way that Bunny did whenever he was going to “pay” for a mistake. Better patch things up, fast. “Candy. What was I thinking? I’m just a little tired, I’m so sorry for the slip. It’s just that I thought June was going home earlier today.” Dan didn’t like the frown on Penny’s freckled face.
“Really? I could have sworn Bunny said she’d be visiting her at the hospital tonight.” She paused, while she stared at the Hunter home, directly behind Dan and Leila. “Maybe Bunny’s at home tonight,” was what she said.
“Oh no, she’s not,” Dan said, perhaps a little too quickly, from the amused looks on the girls’ faces. “I mean, I think she’s over at her mother’s house now.”
“Uh-uh,” Penny said. “Well, in that case, maybe we won’t bug them.”
“Right,” Candy said. She gawked at Leila. “Hey, aren’t you the model on the cover of this month’s Cosmo?”
“So, you think maybe I look like her, eh?” Leila grinned, and for a moment, Dan thought she looked like a cat that just swallowed a goldfish.
“Absolutely.”
Again, Penny giggled. “Candy, don’t be so silly. What would a model want with Danny? Besides, Danny’s got Bunny. What would he want with a model?”
Candy looked genuinely confused. “What did you just say?”
“We’ve got to be going Danny,” Penny said. “Maybe next time you’ll introduce us to your friend.” She focused on the empty street ahead of her and started the engine. “Or not. Bye-bye.”
“Bye,” was all Dan could say.
What a disaster that meeting had been. If he was Leila, he thought, he would never speak to him again. Her resentful tone didn’t surprise him. The spark in her dark eyes flared with her temper. “This was your idea of entertainment, no? The friends, they didn’t say anything about a divorce. Not that I care if you do or don’t.”
“So why are you angry?”
“I care if you lie to me.”
Dan checked his watch. 7:20. He wondered what Rocco was doing, or more specifically, Rocco and his Mercedes. Leila left him no time to think.
“Are you going to leave me out here on the sidewalk for entertainment too, eh?”
“I was thinking we should go back to your hotel room. This was a terrible idea. It didn’t work out the way I thought it would, and Lei—”
Leila’s mouth was on his. Her soft, moist lips tasted like sweet cinnamon candy. Dan felt breathless, even as he tried to speak. “Not out here, Leila. Let’s get a taxi. We’ll go back to your hotel.”
“No! I can’t wait for all of that, Dan. Not now. Now, I’ll have to see the rest of your house, mi amor.”
Right, thought Dan. There was still time. Bunny wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, maybe two. He fumbled for his house keys. The truth was, he couldn’t wait either. How they reached the front door, how they got inside; these things blurred in his mind. With Leila, time stopped. The world belonged to them.
Dan couldn’t explain it, he didn’t understand it, but he knew one thing: he was addicted to Leila Bolivar. He needed this habit. If a cure existed, it didn’t matter. He didn’t want any part of it.
Twe
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From Dan’s point of view, one thing seemed strange—fortuitous, but very strange. Leila didn’t want to share the bedroom he shared with Bunny. He didn’t understand her decision, and she refused to discuss it. Nada. Perhaps the décor reviled her senses. After all, the pink walls, pink bedspread and cute accessories expressed Bunny’s persona all too well. Perhaps its proximity to the front door attracted her to the guest bedroom. Certainly, it wasn’t the 8x10 glossy of June Senior that held court on the solid maple dresser, the one in which June gaily displayed her tiny, yellow teeth. Whatever the reason, he felt no guilt whatsoever for whatever they were about to do, and for that, he felt grateful.
“Nice house, mi vida,” Leila said. She studied him over her shoulder while she removed her long black leather coat.
Dan waited in the doorway with an open bottle of wine and two wine glasses. “What did you call me?”
“Mi vida. It means, my life, my love. In Spanish, it’s a term of endearment.”
“You know, I know we haven’t known each other that long, and yet, I feel like you know me better than anyone.”
Leila unfastened her green silk blouse. She posed in the shadows, her naked body trembling in anticipation. Now, she turned to face him. “Dan, put down the wine. Please, the glasses, too.”
Green silk, shadows, stardust and Leila—the cocktail entranced him. He set the bottle and glasses on the dresser in front of June’s picture.
When he reached to turn out the bedside lamp, Leila stopped him. “No, mi amor, I want to see you.”
He loved that about her. Bunny, however, insisted on the dark. She liked it that way, she said, the same way every time, in the dark.
With Leila, the possibilities seemed endless. For one thing, she flaunted her body. Though she was older than Bunny, he guessed by at least seven years or so, she used her body to tell Dan she wanted him. She would grab his hand and run it along the length and curves of her body, watching his face. And when they became one, Dan just knew-he belonged with Leila forever. If only they had met sooner, before Carlos, before Bunny, before…
Crazy for You Page 9