Gordita Conspiracy

by Lyle Christie

  “To Olivia! The hottest lawyer in the firm,” he said.

  He had at least complimented her in his own lame-ass way but also managed to forget the most fundamental rule of being a gentleman—namely, ladies first. I grabbed two glasses and handed one to Olivia before holding mine up to toast.

  “To Olivia! Clearly the brightest lawyer in the firm,” I said.

  “Thank you, Tag. A woman likes to be appreciated for more than just her looks.”

  Mr. Charming didn’t like that one bit and gave me a purposeful sneer, which, unfortunately for him, brought me a lovely little pang of joy. Olivia, sensing the obvious discomfort in the air decided it might help if she made some official introductions.

  “Tag, this is Doug, one of my very special coworkers,” she said, thereby confirming my earlier suspicion that he was indeed one of the elite cadre of jackasses.

  “Nice to meet you. What do you do?” he asked rather curtly.

  We reached out and shook hands, and as expected, he clamped down like a vice. Assholes like Doug used handshakes as a way to determine their alpha male status, and responding to it usually required applying pressure to the median nerve, but this time I used my brain instead of my braun.

  “I’m a proctologist,” I said, as sincerely as I could.

  I wasn’t entirely sure he believed me, but he instantly loosened his grip and released my hand. Unfortunately, Olivia laughed, so it became obvious I was joking. At that point he smiled and did his best to avoid looking stupid.

  “I see. It was a joke. Funny,” he said.

  “Yeah, Tag is actually a comedian,” Olivia said, with a knowing smile before excusing us from Doug to go make some more introductions.

  When we were clear she leaned in close and spoke.

  “Seriously now—proctologist?” she asked with a smile.

  “Well—he is an asshole.”

  Doug obviously held a serious torch for Olivia, which meant he probably hated me, and I was thus far doing nothing to win friends and influence people. But, next on the itinerary was Olivia’s boss, and I hoped to make a better impression. He was an imposing figure, good looking, tall, and in excellent shape with the only trait belying his middle age status being his thinning hair. He appeared to accept his fate, however, by keeping the sides neatly trimmed, a fact which instantly made me respect him even more. He, unlike Doug, had real intelligence behind his discerning blue eyes, and he used them to appraise me for a fairly long, almost uncomfortable moment before smiling and offering his hand.

  “I’m Tom Richards, nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Tag Finn, congratulations on finishing up your negotiations here.”

  “Thanks, it’s been a long haul, but our team, especially Olivia here, finally got it done.”

  “Time to celebrate,” I said.

  “Yes, it is! So, Tag, what brings you here?” he asked.

  “Oh, well—technically, Olivia.”

  “No, not this party. I mean Dubai,” he said.

  Tom seemed like a good guy and was obviously protective of Olivia, though not in the same way as Doug. His behavior was more indicative of a caring mentor, so he was just curious about the man with whom she chose to keep company.

  “Work, actually. I’m a private investigator.”

  “Interesting, and your work brought you all the way over here?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Is it an exciting case?”

  I had to smile as I thought about all that I’d experienced thus far.

  “The majority of my cases can be a little mundane, but this one might just be a little too exciting, unfortunately.”

  “Well—you look like the kind of guy who can handle it.”

  “Actually, I do my best to follow the path of least resistance.”

  “Tag’s just trying to be modest, but, in reality, he’s a bit of a badass,” Olivia said.

  “Oh really?” Tom asked, sounding intrigued.

  “Yeah, in fact he saved me from a drunken lunatic who tried to attack me with a knife on the flight over.”

  “Seriously?” Tom asked, looking concerned.

  “Yeah,” Olivia said.

  “Wait, how the hell did he get a knife onto the plane?”

  “He was fairly important, so he apparently got to keep his ceremonial dagger on him.”

  “Jesus! And he threatened you with it?” he asked Olivia.

  “Yeah, but Tag stepped in and took him down without even getting a scratch.”

  “I’m impressed!”

  “Don’t be, he was too drunk to put up much of a fight.”

  “Hardly! You were amazing!” Olivia said, gushing.

  Tom looked at me with sincere gratitude in his eyes.

  “Tag, I believe I owe you a sincere thank you for keeping one of our best attorneys alive and well.”

  “In reality, I was probably saving his ass, considering Olivia had already loosened him up with a brutal front kick.”

  He laughed.

  “I’ve seen her hit a heavy bag, so you’re probably correct,” Tom said, patting her on the back.

  He turned his attention back to me.

  “So, do you have a law enforcement, military, or government background?”

  Tom was obviously a particularly perceptive person, but then a good attorney needed that trait, especially in the courtroom or during contract negotiations, where being able to get a read on a witness or the opposing council could often determine the difference between failure or success.

  “The latter two,” I responded.

  “Me too—well the military part, anyway, though I did it after undergrad and before law school.”

  “I had a similar career path, but I went college, military, and then the government before beginning my illustrious current career.”

  “And by government I’m assuming you worked for the Agency you can’t legally acknowledge working for?” he asked.

  “I could say no, but I’m guessing you’d probably figure out I was lying.”

  Olivia was eying me curiously.

  “I should have known that you were James Bond when I saw you drinking that martini at the bar,” she said, as she smiled and pinched my arm.

  “Hardly, I’m obviously his less dashing American counterpart who almost never had the right opening line when meeting a beautiful stranger on a plane.”

  “Oh, you didn’t do that bad, considering you’re here now,” she countered.

  “I guess you’ve forgotten about the grass-fed comment?”

  “No, but now I think it’s actually funny.”

  We shared a little laugh, but Tom looked confused.

  “Grass-fed?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s a long story, so, what branch of the military were you in?” I asked Tom, hoping to change the subject.

  “Army, and you?”

  “Air force.”

  “Were you a pilot?”

  “PJ.”

  “Oh, now I can understand how you ended up with your next employer.”

  “Why? What’s a PJ?” Olivia asked.

  “Parajumpers. They’re the Air Force’s elite special operations unit.”

  “Well, now it all makes sense,” she said, with a smile.

  At that moment, a man wearing a keffiyeh and a rather nicely fitting tuxedo walked up and joined us. He was around thirty, tall, good looking, and carried himself with an obvious air of authority.

  “Good evening, Tom,” he said, his voice belying a hint of an English accent that obviously came from having going to school in the United Kingdom.

  “Good evening, Sheikh Hamza,” Tom said, as they shook hands.

  Sweet Lord, it was the man himself!

  “How wonderful that we have finally reached an agreement in our negotiations and can finally celebrate,” he said.

  “Yes, and I’d like to introduce you to one of the people most responsible. This is Olivia, one of our most gifted attorneys,” Tom said.

  “It’s nice t
o meet you,” Olivia said.

  “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” he said, as he took her hand and kissed it then gazed into her eyes.

  He was definitely a ladies man.

  “And this is my date, Tag Finn,” she said, gesturing at me.

  I stepped closer, and Hamza gazed over at me with an unusual look in his eyes that could have been surprise or disdain, or perhaps both.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Finn,” he said, smiling, though his tone was oddly ominous as he held out his hand to shake.

  “And you as well,” I said, as I reached out and took his hand.

  We shared a moment of eye contact as we shook hands that felt like an unspoken challenge, but it might have just meant that he was interested in my date, considering Olivia was by far the most beautiful woman at the palace this evening. We completed the gesture, and he stood back and appraised me.

  “What brings you to Dubai? Business or pleasure?” he asked.

  “At the moment, I’d say both.”

  “Well, hopefully you’ll have more of the latter, now, if you’ll please excuse me, I have some people that I would like Tom to meet,” he said.

  They moved on, and I noticed Olivia staring at me with a curious look on her face.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Is it me, or was there a little underlying tension between you two?”

  “Hard to say for sure, but, if there were, it was likely because he was interested in my date.”

  “Maybe, but it seemed as though he might have been more interested in you.”

  “Well, I am a people person.”

  “That, you are,” she said, as she led me off to the food table.

  It was crowded, but we managed to work our way through the herd of grazing people to fill our plates with sliced filet mignon, steamed spinach, and a cheesy potato dish. Food in hand, we found a quiet table off on the periphery, where we could eat in relative peace.

  “So, I should warn you. I’m actually on the job right now and might have to make a hasty exit if I find the person I’m looking for here,” I said.

  “That’s too bad, as I was hoping we might have a chance to spend some more time exploring your theories on female sexual gratification.”

  “Believe me, I sincerely hope that’s the case, as I’m already sporting an early evening semi in anticipation.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re just saying that to try and make me feel better.”

  “No, and if you don’t believe me, you can handle my ham and see for yourself.”

  “I will,” she said.

  She reached under the table and took a firm hold of my privates.

  “You weren’t kidding!” she said.

  “Nope, that fucker is legit.”

  “Maybe I need to make sure you know what you’ll be missing,” she said, as she began running her hand over my manhood, which was starting to strain against the fabric of my pants.

  Sweet mother of God. She wasn’t fucking around and was pretty much delivering an over-the-pants handjob. A lustful euphoria soon overtook my senses, and I found my gaze drifting aimlessly across the nearby tables until my eyes inadvertently set upon Doug. He was watching our exchange, and his angle was such that he probably had a bird’s eye view of our little indiscretion beneath the table. Lovely. Now he would surely be even more pissed off. Oh well, fuck it. I decided to ignore Mr. Charming and turned my attention back to Olivia, who actually was charming, so charming, in fact, that she was mere seconds from charming the semen right out of my balls.

  “So, all that’s for me?” she asked.

  “Every last inch.”

  Both of our attention was suddenly drawn to Olivia’s boss, who walked up to our table at that very moment. Olivia immediately removed her hand from my happy place and smiled innocently.

  “Hi, Tom! What’s up?” she asked.

  I was tempted to say me, but I stayed quiet while I did some deep breathing exercises to relieve the tension in my pants.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I would like to introduce Olivia to some people. Do you mind, Tag?”

  “No problem. Business before pleasure,” I said.

  She stood up and accompanied her boss across the room to a table full of distinguished looking gentleman while I used the time to finish up the delicious filet mignon and scan the crowd, curious if I could find Farid. On first glance, there was no sign of my old friend, but I did make eye contact with Doug once again and saw that he and a group of other young lawyers were now drinking shots, talking, and looking menacingly in my direction. As a keen observer of human behavior, I could tell that they saw me as a stray lion who was moving in on a member of their pride, but I decided to ignore them and turned my attention to my task. Unfortunately, I only managed about four minutes and twenty-eight seconds before Doug and two of his jackass friends were hovering over my table, where they were obviously bonding over booze, bravado, and the desire to bone Olivia.

  This was very likely the entirety of the elite cadre of jackasses, and now I was all alone to enjoy their company. Doug, of course, was standing in the middle of the group with his loyal comrades spread out on either side—the three of them creating a virtual wall of jackasses. The jackass on the left was the biggest and very likely a former football player, judging by his six foot plus height and substantial body mass. His problem, however, was that he stopped playing the game a long time ago but kept eating the same amount of food, and, now, what was once muscle, was looking to be mostly fat. The jackass on the right looked to be fit but had the demeanor of those wannabe weekend warrior types who organized men’s only getaways, where guys did ridiculously manly things in the company of other men. In my opinion, a truly manly vacation included women.

  “OK, let’s face it. I can’t dance with all three of you at once, so we’re going to have to take turns,” I said.

  “We’re not here to dance, asshole.”

  “A boy can always dream.”

  “Joke’s over. We need to talk.”

  “OK, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Olivia.”

  “Well, unfortunately she’s not here at the moment, and it doesn’t seem very nice to talk about her behind her back.”

  “Listen up, asshole! We just happen to be good friends with Olivia’s boyfriend back home, so we see it as our job to make sure that pricks like you don’t go sticking your dick where it doesn’t belong.”

  “I must say, counselor, that your line of reasoning seems a little hypocritical, considering you were just playing grab-ass with the plaintiff’s girlfriend.”

  “Fuck you! I wasn’t playing grab-ass.”

  “Oh, so that was your evil twin’s hand on Olivia’s ass. Maybe you could call him over, so we could have a talk with him instead.”

  Doug slammed his hand on the table causing all the dishes and silverware to make a loud clattering noise that evoked several curious looks from nearby tables. For a guy on a covert mission, I was not being very covert at the moment.

  “Clearly you need to take it down a notch, so why don’t we all just relax, put on our big boy pants, and play nice,” I said.

  Doug was turning bright red and getting more angry with each passing second.

  “Dude, why don’t you get the fuck out of here before we throw you out,” Doug said.

  “What happened to my suggestion to play nice? Clearly you and the rest of Fight Club here need to take a look around and see that this isn’t the time or place for anything as stupid as engaging in a little fisticuffs. If you assholes do anything to embarrass your firm or put this deal in jeopardy, then you can all say goodbye to your jobs and cushy overprivileged lives back in San Francisco, so, as it stands, nothing is going to happen, nor am I going to leave, and, now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

  The Champagne had made its way to my bladder, and I really needed to pee, so I stood up, parted the sea of jackasses, and made my way through the crowd and over to
the bathroom. Upon opening the door and stepping inside, I had to take a moment to pause and catch my breath. Holy sweet mother of porcelain kingdoms—it was a palace unto itself! It was spacious and gaudy and even had a little seating area and lounge at the entrance. I continued past the stately leather furniture and reached the most important part, the part where shit got done—literally. Here, the floors and countertops were done in a red onyx colored marble, while the individual stall walls were constructed of rich mahogany. The fixtures were made of hand blown glass, and, as expected, the place was impeccably clean from floor to ceiling. This was a bathroom truly befitting a royal behind and begged for a regal number two in spite of its semi-public designation. Unfortunately, I only had the goods for a number one, so I saddled up to a urinal and unleashed a torrent of sweet yellow bliss. Finished, I breathed a sigh of relief then sheathed my sword and headed for the sink to wash my hands. As I finished up and grabbed some paper towels, the door opened, and in walked the elite cadre of jackasses. Doug was in the lead, and he was smiling ever so cruelly as he walked closer.