Coed Demon Sluts: Omnibus: Coed Demon Sluts: books 1-5

by Jennifer Stevenson

  The judge put her glasses on and cleared her throat. “In view of the charges against Mr. Saunders by the Securities Exchange Commission, and bearing in mind that the IRS is taking an interest in Mr. Saunders’ tax filings under both his identities, it seems unlikely that a new settlement amount will be determined in less than several months. I’m sorry, Mrs. Saunders,” the judge said, looking at Beth. “Can you manage without the funds for that long?”

  “She can stay with us,” Darleen said quickly, eyeing her mother’s diamonds. “We’ll clear out the study. We were going to build a new room onto the house anyway. Suite. Because you can’t take care of yourself, Mom.”

  Sickened, Beth didn’t respond.

  The judge looked at Jeff.

  “All I have is a sofa in my loft,” Jeff said curtly to the judge, not looking at his sister or his parents.

  Beth lifted her chin. “My friends have offered me a job and a place to stay. I’m going to be fine.”

  “Are you quite sure?” The judge looked over her glasses at her. “This could take as long as six or seven months. Mr. Saunders’ assets have been frozen. The IRS does not move swiftly.”

  Blake uttered a stifled sob.

  The judge added reassuringly, “Since you were awarded very little of the total in your original settlement, and since Mr. Saunders issued a dishonored settlement check, the IRS has decided you are not complicit in Mr. Saunders’ tax evasion. I’m just warning you, that won’t make them work any faster. It’s possible that I could convince them to free up funds equivalent to your original settlement, at least, since that constitutes a small fraction of the total assets involved.”

  Gratefully, Beth smiled. “That’s very nice of you, your honor, but I’ll be fine. I always am,” she added, sending a maliciously bland look at each of her children.

  “Once the IRS and the SEC have finished their investigations, you stand to collect the bulk of the remaining assets,” the judge said.

  “I think I’ll set up a trust for my grandchildren’s education,” Beth said, watching Darleen.

  Darleen turned white, pressed her lips together, turned red, got up, and left the room.

  Somehow or other, the hearing ended. Blake’s lawyer led him out. The judge called in her clerk to pack up her papers and departed. Ish muttered something that could have been interpreted as congratulations, shook Beth’s hand, and vanished out the door.

  Jee looked at Beth. “Well? Will that do for revenge?” She looked absurdly young to be playing lawyer-shark.

  “Yes. I think so. I really do.” Beth felt so weirdly peaceful, she was floating. She noticed Jeff taking in Jee’s black suit and flashing eyes. “Oh, Jee, let me introduce you to my son. Jeff, this is one of my roommates.”

  Jee smiled absently and looked at the phone in her hand. “Pog wants to know are we done. It’s lunchtime.” She looked at Jeff. “Bring him along.”

  “Uh, is that a good idea?” Beth said.

  Jee looked Jeff up and down. “Sure.”

  Beth resisted an urge to warn him to bring his own condoms, or, if he hadn’t any, to ask his mother for some.

  Fuck it, she thought, and let go of everything. She floated up out of her smotheringly comfy leather judge’s-chambers chair. “Let’s eat.”

  Pog

  It was strange seeing Beth looking like her old self, and I do mean old. I suppose she had to show up in court wearing Beth Saunders’ face. When she came out of that hearing she seemed younger in spirit than her Beth Asucar succubus self ever had.

  Jee had some young guy with her who turned out to be Beth’s son, Jeff. “Jeff’s coming to lunch,” she announced. I noticed Beth glance nervously at them.

  I also noticed that Reg, who had insisted on coming to the courthouse, was deep in conversation, off in a corner of the waiting room, with Ish Qbybbl. Awesome. Reg’s dark blue jacket, white tee and black jeans made Ish look even cheesier than normal, but of course, Jee had dressed Reg. I bit my lip. It would be just like Ish to decide that, now Jee had gotten Reg nicely under control, we should have a different manager. While I watched, Ish clapped Reg on the shoulder, shook hands, and slithered out. Reg pranced back to where Jee and Beth and I and Jeff’s kid waited for him.

  “He says keep up the good work!” Reg announced. Beth introduced him to her kid. “Nice to meetcha. Yer mom is one hot mama. Heh! That was a joke, get it? C’mon, Beth, let’s get you outa here so you can put your face back right. I don’t like seein’ you all ugly.” He threw his arm around Beth’s neck and steered her out.

  Jeff followed, looking bemused.

  I looked at Jee, who was busy texting.

  “Amanda’s bringing the van around,” Jee said. “What?” she said to my incredulous glare at Reg, who was summoning the elevator. “Oh. I figured Reg deserves another afternoon of playing pimp. He earned it. Besides, we couldn’t very well have him licking our boots in front of Ish.”

  I made a face. “I don’t think Ish is under any illusions about Reg’s role at the Lair.” Huh. Jee was taking Reg’s contribution seriously? Life always gets weirder.

  Amanda met us with the van and drove us up into River North to a Brazilian steakhouse we’d never been to before. I agreed with her. The occasion was worth it.

  Reg grandly ponied up a credit card at the door—meals at these places are always a fixed price, not counting drinks—and turned and winked at Jee. She swiftly clouted him on the back of the head. I saw her point. We didn’t want them to worry that our credit card was bogus. They’d be unhappy enough when they saw how much we ate for our measly fifty bucks a person. Reg turned down a table for five and demanded the big one in the corner. He was right. We’d need room for lots of plates.

  I slipped Reg a hundred dollar bill under the table, which he immediately handed the waiter with a flourish.

  “Split it with the bartender, buddy, and tell him to rev up the blender. My girls like those foofy umbrella drinks.” He winked at the waiter.

  The waiter took us in—Beth, covered in diamonds, who had swelled in the chest and shed years since the courthouse; me braless under my pastel silk suit; Jee still severely lawyerish but also with fresh extra boobies; and Amanda, who radiated wholesome-farm-girl-for-a-price in a belted shirt-dress unbuttoned four buttons. With contempt he looked at hairy Jeff.

  “My client,” Reg said, throwing his arm over Jeff’s shoulder. “Special occasion. Let’s do it right, huh?” He winked three or four more times.

  Jee rolled her eyes.

  I turned to Beth while the team ordered drinks, and said, “Look, this was Jee’s idea. Do you really want to blow your cover with Jeff here?”

  She glanced at her son. “I don’t know. I think Ish kind of did that already. I feel odd about him,” she confessed. “It’s as if I won’t know if he’s worth bothering with unless he knows the truth. And if he learns the truth and freaks out or hates me for it, then he’s not worth bothering with.”

  I interpreted this as best I could. “What have you got to lose?”

  “Exactly.” Beth smiled gratefully. To the waiter she said, “A pitcher of caipirinhas, please, and keep them coming. Also, with the meal, a bottle each of your two best malbecs. Jeff, do you still drink beer?” She looked at her son.

  Jeff looked a little glazed over. “Uh, yes, please.”

  Beth beamed at him. “Start the high-end local microbrews coming. Bring him a different one every ten minutes until we find one he likes. Hey, do you have that North Wind Scotch Ale by Two Brothers? Oh, good, bring that one first. You’ll like it, Jeff. Also,” she said, grabbing the waiter’s arm before he could transfer his attention to me, “did anyone order margaritas?”

  “Two pitchers, starting as soon as possible,” Jee said, looking at her watch. Jee was always antsy until the first drink came.

  Beth nodded at the drinks waiter. “And a piña colada, a frozen peach daquiri, and a double of your oldest Scotch, straight up. He’s all yours,” she said to me.

  We g
ot the order in and drinks on the table and everyone relaxed. The first gauchos, as the restaurant called them, showed up with long skewers of smoking, fragrant meat, meat, meat. We each put away two pounds of barbecue in the first twenty minutes. The drinks waiter brought us side dishes so we wouldn’t have to get up and go to the buffet ourselves. “Do I look like I fetch my own food, honey?” Jee purred at him, tucking a fifty-dollar bill into his hand and folding his fingers over it.

  Beth’s kid took it all in with his eyes popping.

  Reg spread himself, bragging how we were getting our bathroom remodeled in record time and precisely why. He told Jeff about the incentives spreadsheet inside the freezer door. He gloated over the refrigerators full of beer. He described how we reported our quotas to the Regional Office, and boasted that as onsite manager, he made thirty percent more than da girls, but he felt like he earned it.

  Jeff turned toward Beth. “Uh, Mom?”

  By now Beth had drunk her piña colada, her daquiri, her Scotch, her share of the margaritas and caipirinhas, and half a bottle of malbec, and she looked more relaxed than I’d seen her in days. She set her wineglass down carefully and looked at him. “Yes, Jeff?”

  “You work for, uh....”

  “For the Regional Office.” She pointed at the floor. “My quota is three sexual sins per month. Ridiculously low quota. Even temptation counts.” I admired her aplomb. She might have been describing good works performed at a battered women’s shelter.

  “Why?” Jeff blurted.

  “Because the Home Office,” she pointed ceilingward, “disapproves of sex. Silly of them, but I suppose it keeps the brand clear in consumers’ minds.”

  “I meant, why did you do it, Mom?” He wasn’t yelling or going purple in the face or anything, although with that enormous beard it was hard to tell.

  Beth turned toward him, folded her hands, and put them in her lap.

  “Because I was suicidal. I couldn’t get a job. I didn’t have any money. I was homeless. Nobody wanted me—not Darleen, not you.”

  “But I thought—”

  She interrupted him. “These women took me in and gave me work, a home, new clothes. They helped me find my self-respect, Jeff. Also, it turns out that in spite of twenty-eight years of your father’s mediocrity and selfishness, I can still enjoy sex. I think I may have found a calling. Each of us specializes a little—” She sent a glance around the table.

  “Don’t look at me, I’m an old-style pro,” I said.

  “Newbie here,” Amanda said warily.

  “At least you know whether a dog’s a belly-rubber or an ear-scritcher,” Beth said.

  Amanda opened her mouth and shut it.

  Beth looked at Jee and smiled. “I think I may devote myself to improving how men have sex with their wives.”

  Jee raised her eyebrows. “Tall order.”

  Beth lifted her chin. “To keep it interesting.” She smiled around the table. “They’ve all taught me so much. Pog taught me to respect myself and the work we do.”

  In spite of myself, I went hot. When Beth said thank you, she was so goddam thorough.

  “Jee gave me permission to be angry. Reg showed me how to like my body.” Beth looked warmly at Reg, who blushed like a ripe plum. “Amanda makes a great role model with her easygoing professionalism.”

  Amanda went pink, too.

  “You’ve been so generous with everything you have.” Beth’s eyes were misting over. She gestured. “Lending me money, clothes, even sharing your jewelry.”

  “So those aren’t yours?” Jeff said. “I bet Darleen choked when she saw them.”

  Beth shook her head as if words failed her, her eyebrows going up, and a silent laugh on her face.

  Jeff laughed. Under all that hair, I think his eyes were smiling, too. “Look, Mom, I think I misunderstood what you wanted when you called me. I’m sorry you were so miserable. When you called, I just thought you wanted to yell at me again, like, quit living the way I do and get a suit job. You tell me that a lot.” He swallowed. “It’s why I don’t call home much.” Then he looked at us. “Thanks for helping her when she needed it. You were there and I wasn’t. You’re good people.”

  Beth broke down and sniveled into her malbec.

  I hunched my shoulder. “It’s nothing. And never mind the money. Although I will want the tennis dress back.”

  Jee said, “I definitely want my diamonds back. Not tonight.”

  This touch of lightness didn’t work. Beth was now gushing tears. Oh, brother.

  She put her hand on Jeff’s. “I failed you when you went to college and got in with all those druggies. It was your uncle and your cousin all over again. I was just terrified you would go the way they did. I wanted to pull you out of school, but your father wouldn’t take it seriously. In the end I just kept telling myself you were smarter than that, it would never get that bad, oh, all kinds of lies.” She snatched up her napkin and blew her nose. “I lied to myself and I hurt everybody,” she said behind the napkin. “Now you’re bumming around Colorado, and Darleen is a venal idiot.”

  “Mom, Mom,” Jeff said, while I tried not to laugh out loud at venal idiot. “I have a job.”

  She put the napkin down. “What?”

  “I’m growing weed. It’s legal in Colorado now. The regulations are a huge pain, but it’s definitely a nice living.”

  Beth didn’t look greatly comforted. “I suppose you smoke most of it yourself.”

  “Actually, I smoke a lot less than I used to. It’s a business, Mom. You have to stay alert.”

  “You grow? What strains you got?” Reg interrupted. “I got a couple Jamaican strains back at the Lair you won’t believe. I been composting naturally, too.”

  Jeff patted Beth’s hand. “I’m proud of you, Mom. You’ve turned your life around. You have some nice friends finally, too.” That made my jaw drop. “It really worried me, how you kidded yourself that you liked all that North Shore socialite crap. All those fake friends and fake parties. Made me sick. Dad pulled so much crap on you, and you trotted around after him, cleaning up and pretending he deserved you. I couldn’t watch,” he confessed.

  Whoa. The kid punched pretty straight. I decided to stop babying the new girl from now on.

  “You never mentioned any of this,” Beth said, her eyes round.

  “Would you have listened? Come out to Colorado and flop in my loft for a week. We’ll go hiking. It’s beautiful up in the mountains.”

  Beth sniffled. “You’re not freaking out about my job?”

  Jeff shrugged. “You like it. You look happy. I watched Dad ruin his marriage and his family life by living fake and lying all the time. I decided if success cost all that, I didn’t want it. And look at me now.” Behind all the hair, his eyes rolled in self-mockery. “Biggest boutique grower in central Colorado.” He reached out and pressed Beth’s hand. “I’m glad you’re doing what you like. You look real now.”

  With a laugh, Beth said, “I feel real. Which is crazy. I could turn into anyone at all if I wanted to.” She glanced around the restaurant and I was relieved when she said, “But not here.” She lowered her voice. “It’s all smoke and mirrors from the Regional Office.”

  “You look realer to me than I’ve ever seen you,” Jeff said soberly. “I’m sorry, Mom. If I’d known—if I hadn’t just assumed you called to yell at me—” He flushed. “You can come out and live with me in Denver if you want. It’s not the high life, but it’s real, too.”

  I glanced at my roomies. Jee was glaring at Jeff. Reg looked alarmed. Amanda was eating.

  Beth shook her head. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you offered. But I’m staying here. My teammates challenge my ideas about morals and reality and happiness every day.” She smiled like an adult. “I feel alive.”

  “If you’re sure. I respect what you’re doing.” Jeff glanced at the rest of us. “You’re careful, right?” He snorted. “Of course you are. This is you, Mom. As long as you can make a living—” He s
topped and shook his head. “Listen to me, I sound like you now.”

  “That reminds me,” I said, after I’d cleared my throat a bit. “Your first payroll came in, Beth.” I fished in my purse. “Here’s the base pay.” I handed her a plastic snack bag, heavy with a few small coins.

  Beth took it. “Thank you,” she said, turning the bag over bemusedly. “What are they worth, do you think? How do I sell them?”

  “We work with dealers around the world,” Jee said. “Several here in Chicago. Some private collectors.”

  Amanda said, “Base rate runs around eighteen to twenty dollars an ounce for blank disc silver bullion. Actual coins can be worth a lot more. It’s really all about the bonuses.”

  “Ah, yes, the bonuses.” I fished out the other snack bag, twice as heavy, and handed it over.

  Beth had opened her first bag and was inspecting the gray, tarnished coins. Now she tipped them back in and opened the next bag.

  “Careful,” Jee said. “Handling them gets oils on them. Affects their value.”

  I said, “The Regional Office doesn’t really understand money—I think the purser just grabs a fistful out of the old treasure chest—so sometimes it’s Mercury dimes, a lot of English shillings, and sometimes an ancient Greek coin. Every bonus has a few zingers. It’s kind of a crapshoot. You have to look them up.”

  “Can I see?” Amanda said. Beth handed her the bonus baggie. “Huh. This one’s nice. Etruscan, first century.” Separating one coin from the others, manipulating it through the plastic to keep her finger oils off it, Amanda showed Beth what she’d found. “This one’s worth probably eighteen thousand dollars.”

  Beth goggled. “Guk?”

  “We have a dealer who works with museums,” Jee said. “Obviously.”

  “That’s one month’s pay? Holy shit, Mom,” Jeff said. “Put it in your purse or something.”

  Beth did. “Wow. I’m going to be rich.”

  “They’re not always that good,” Amanda said. “Like Pog says, it’s a crapshoot.”