Call Me Sugar

by Sage Nyx

  He reads off the instructions that are written in a mixture of Chinese and badly translated English. “Shoots flaming balls, it says. I’m confused. Does that mean it shoots out flaming balls or will catch our balls on fire? Holy shit! I’ll take this one and find out for sure.”

  Vulcan picks up a bottle of whiskey sitting on the ground. After taking two long swigs, he walks over and hands the bottle to Kit.

  “Jack Daniels?” Kit asks with a wry grin, taking the bottle from him. “Is this the best you can afford? I thought you were making the big bucks now.”

  “I am,” Vulcan says. “Doesn’t mean I have to change my whiskey. If it isn’t broke, no need to fix it.”

  He goes back to digging into the second box of fireworks. “Which one do you want to try, Sugar? Here are your choices. Quick and Dead, Killer in the Mist or Acid Rain?”

  “How did you find all these?” I ask, shaking my head at him. “You’re bat shit crazy.”

  “Trolling the internet,” he says. “I’m always on the hunt for adventure. The way I see it, ordering shit off the internet is the same thing as those little subscription boxes women love so much. You never know what you’re going to get. That’s the whole fun of it. The weirder it is, the more I love it. I was researching adding fireworks to my show and came across these gems.”

  “You don’t realize how lucky you are to have a boss who understands the creative process of a performer,” I say to him. “Giovanni cut my balls off this week. He made me sign a contract to take out all the good stuff. The insurance company thinks I’m too much of a liability risk. Yet you’re out there, risking your life every night for real in your show and they’re not giving you a hard time about it.”

  Vulcan lifts his head and grins at me. “That’s because the fuckers who own me don’t give a shit if I live or die. If something happens, they’ll replace me with some other stupid ass. We’re a dime a dozen. No real talent, just nerves of steel and a giant streak of insanity.”

  There might be some truth behind what he’s saying.

  “They give you freedom to do what you want,” I say. “Giovanni is trying to turn me back into a two-bit magician doing the same old stupid tricks.”

  “Oh, man,” Vulcan says, shaking his head in true regret. “I feel for you. Mr. G-Spot has always been an asshole. That’s one step up from being castrated. I have to say, I’m glad it’s you and not me, buddy. Without the dangerous stunts, I’m a nobody. At least you’ve got real talent to fall back on.”

  “I’m not in a much better position,” Kit says. He moves off his motorcycle to come closer to us. “My boss doesn’t give a damn about the animals in my show. He doesn’t have a clue how far animal training has come since the circuses in the past. He’s always pushing me to do things with the tigers that aren’t in their normal behavior. It’s a fucking fight every damn day. Last week he asked me if I could dress the cats up in outfits. I told him if he wanted to wrestle a four-hundred-pound tiger into a pink fluffy tutu to go right ahead and do it himself. Be my guest, asshole. Knock yourself out and let me watch.”

  Vulcan bursts out laughing. “I bet he shut the fuck up then, didn’t he?”

  “You but your ass he did,” Kit replies with a broad smile. “Nobody fucks with my cats. Not even the boss man. They can’t pay me enough for that.”

  I grab the bottle of whiskey from Vulcan and take a long sip. “I wish we didn’t have to work for these bastards,” I say. “They’re all bad. Every one of them. Wouldn’t it be great if we had enough money or private investors backing us to go out on our own? If the three of us put our resources together, we could run this fucking town. Make our own goddamn rules. All we need is a plan and about a billion dollars.”

  The guys go quiet while they think about what I said.

  “Nah…keep on dreaming, Sugar.” Vulcan grabs the bottle out of my hand and guzzles, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It won’t happen. They own our asses. We’re tied down to them by multiyear contracts.” He hands the bottle back to me. “At least they pay us well. And we’re waist deep in good whiskey and pussy. What else do we need, boys? We’re in Vegas, baby!”

  He pulls a lighter out of his back pocket and flicks it on.

  “Which one of you fuckers wants to go first?”

  Jade

  Thirty-six hours later in the basement of Platinum…

  “It’s time to take a break,” Natasha says firmly. She places a steaming hot mug of black coffee on the table beside the Peggy Penguin slot machine. “I insist. You need sleep and real food. You must stop working.”

  “Only a few minutes longer,” I reply. I reach over and take a sip of the coffee. “Thank you. The coffee will work wonders to perk me right up again. It’s a miracle drug.”

  “Living on coffee and donuts is no good,” she says, frowning down at me. “Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll get it for you.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I say truthfully. “Or tired.”

  She gives me a doubtful look. “We’ve waited this long to learn the secrets of Peggy Penguin,” she says. “A day or two more won’t make a difference. Please eat. It makes me worry when you don’t eat. You’re too thin.” She touches my forearm. “Your arms are too skinny. Why won’t you come upstairs to sleep on the sofa in Eva’s office? I will stand guard outside the door to make certain you are not disturbed by dancing men wearing thongs.”

  I take another sip of the coffee and smile up at her. Natasha is a mystery that I can’t figure out. Who could ever imagine the beautiful, blonde Russian to be the motherly type?

  Yet, here she is.

  Hovering over me constantly like a worried Momma Hen. Every few hours she comes downstairs into the basement carrying trays of assorted snacks, muffins, candy bars and coffee to tempt me.

  Last night, she hauled down a deep-dish pizza in a cardboard box. She scolded me when I reached over to grab a slice of pizza with my left hand while still typing nonstop with my right. I didn’t want to stop long enough to eat.

  I’ve worked on reverse engineering the slot machine for thirty-six hours straight without sleep. I’m so close now, I can taste it. The finish line is in sight and I won’t stop until it’s done.

  “I’m fine, really,” I say, trying to reassure her. “I’m used to working without sleep for long stretches of time. In college, we would do three all-nighters in a row while cramming for exams. We also did weekend team coding contests. Those were the worst. Sometimes we’d fall dead asleep right onto our laptops in the middle of the competition.”

  “You did those contests for fun and not money?” she asks, lifting her eyebrows in question. “Why would you do that?”

  “For the challenge and also to prove something,” I explain. “Most of my classmates were male, so it was always a double victory when our all-girls team won. We needed to prove to ourselves and to the men we were as capable as they were.”

  She nods her head in understanding.

  “Ah…so the girls stick together in school. That is smart. We need to show the men we have brains too. They think we’re all tits and pussy. That we cannot think for ourselves.” She taps the side of her head. “They do not realize what we have in here,” she continues. “Until it’s too late. Then they’re sorry for thinking we are stupid with no brain.”

  I stop typing code on my laptop and stare up at her in curiosity. “It sounds as if you’re talking about one man, not men in general. Am I right?”

  “No, not one man,” she says with a shake of her head. “All men. They’re all the same. In Russia, women get no respect. The men believe we are there to cook for them, clean their house, suck their cock. Tell them how strong and smart they are. Make them feel good about themselves while they treat us like dog shit. All the time we know deep down in here,” she pats her heart, “that we are the smart ones. You and me. We know. Do we not, Jade?”

  I smile and nod in agreement. “No argument from me on that point.”

  “Now we will
show them who are the smart ones.” She gives the machine a loving pat on the top.

  I stand up to stretch my tired back and shoulders. I’m getting stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. I rub the back of my sore neck, then bend over to touch my toes.

  “I hope so,” I say, reaching up high toward the ceiling with my arms to work out the kinks.

  “You can do this,” she says in a confident voice. “We have faith in you.”

  “When you go back upstairs, tell Eva that I’m almost done. It shouldn’t take more than a few more hours at the most for the program to finish running.”

  Natasha beams at me. “You’re a clever girl. We’re happy you’re here. I hope you’ll consider staying longer in Vegas. There will always be a place with us for someone with your special skills.”

  She sounds sincere. Part of me wishes I could believe her. It’s nice to be a member of a group again. Then my mind goes back to Eva pressuring me into doing this.

  When I don’t answer, she raises her eyebrows at me.

  “You don’t believe me?” she asks. “You think I’m insincere?”

  I glance back down at my laptop and say nothing.

  “You don’t trust me,” she says in a disappointed voice.

  I let out a long sigh and turn toward her. “Eva practically twisted my arm to convince me to do this,” I say. “How can I trust any of you? No, I don’t trust you. I would be crazy to. Nothing personal. Maybe if we had all met under different circumstances, it would be different.”

  “Trust doesn’t come easily in my country either,” she says in agreement. “It’s better to be that way. Trust no one, only yourself. When the other person proves themselves to you, only then can you give your trust away.”

  “Do you trust Eva?” I ask. “The two of you seem close.”

  “With my life,” she says firmly. “More than anyone in this world. I owe her everything. She saved me.”

  “What’s the deal with her?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks, her eyes narrowing at my question.

  She’s protective of Eva. King gave me the same vibe when he talked about her, too. What is up with Eva? Is she a weird savior of misfits? I don’t dare ask.

  “Eva already has money and a successful business,” I say. “Why would she want to be involved in this? Why take the risk?”

  Natasha’s face grows guarded, and she glances away from me. Talking about Eva makes her uncomfortable.

  “Eva has her reasons for the things she does,” she replies carefully. “I don’t question why. My reasons are simple. With me, it’s all about money and the security money brings. There is being poor in the United States and there is being poor in Russia. Big difference. I never want to go hungry again. Here people complain about being poor because they can’t afford big cars or houses. In Russia, being poor means not being able to feed your children.”

  “Your relationship with Eva seems to be more than business,” I say. “Are you two together as a couple?”

  Natasha bursts out laughing. “Are you asking if Eva and I are lovers? No! Eva is a widow. And I love men...when they’re good to me. If they’re bad, then not so much.”

  “Her husband is dead?” I ask, shocked. Eva can’t be more than in her mid-thirties at the most. Too young to lose a husband. “What happened?”

  “There was a house fire,” she replies casually after a moment’s hesitation. “Her husband was passed out drunk in his bed. He didn’t wake up or smell the smoke until it was too late. They didn’t find his body until the next day, charred beyond recognition among the ashes.”

  I’m stunned. What a tragic thing to happen to a young woman.

  “Where was Eva when the fire broke out?”

  “Not there,” Natasha replies curtly. “She was out of town visiting friends. Don’t waste tears for her husband. He was a bad man. Eva is better off without him. She is free now.”

  I blink and take another long sip of coffee. There is much more to Eva than I first thought.

  “How did the fire start?” I ask. “Did they ever find out?”

  “Johnny was a chain smoker and a heavy drinker. He fell asleep with a lit cigarette on the bed. Luckily for Eva, he had a large life insurance policy through his employer. She bought Platinum with the money and made a new life for herself. A safe life. Now there are no more bad men. Only friends who care about her, the same as she cares about us. We will protect her now.”

  “Wow,” I say, unsure of how else to react. “That’s a crazy story.”

  “Yes, sometimes tragedy works out for the best.”

  Natasha is blunt if nothing else. Something else she said sticks in my mind.

  “At least he had life insurance,” I say. “That’s good, because most people don’t. Who was her husband’s employer?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” I reply.

  “Johnny worked for one of the big hotels in town.”

  “Which hotel?”

  “The Imperial.”

  Another interesting piece of the puzzle clicks into place.

  Jade

  Two hours later and the code is finally finished running.

  “I’m done,” I text to Natasha’s cell phone.

  “Coming down now,” she texts me back.

  It’s a good feeling to know someone has confidence in me and believes in my abilities. The last few days I’ve felt more alive than I’ve felt in a long time. Maybe it’s the pulsing energy of Vegas surrounding me.

  Or Sugar.

  The man who I can’t let myself dwell on. Though he never leaves my mind for long. He’s not a part of my life and that’s the only way it can be.

  Most women go a whole lifetime without experiencing a special date like I shared with him. For one night, I felt cherished and unique.

  As if I were the only woman in the world.

  Too bad it wasn’t real.

  I wonder if he’s thought of me? Or if he was relieved to wake up to find me gone?

  I’ll never know either way, which is probably for the best. If I don’t know for sure, then the fantasy can stay alive in my head. Where it should stay safely tucked away and brought out only when I’m alone.

  Working nonstop on breaking the code has forced me to block Sugar out in order to concentrate. In a way, it’s a blessing. I’m not sure how strong my willpower would be not to contact him without this all-consuming task.

  While I’ve worked, other nagging thoughts keep popping into my mind. Is sitting in a tiny cubicle, writing code all day what I’m meant to do with my life? Is that all there is? To work for a Silicon Valley IT company that will burn me up and discard me when someone smarter and younger comes along one day?

  For years I’ve thought that was exactly what I wanted.

  Now I’m not sure.

  Being in Vegas is screwing with my brain. Making me think and feel things that are totally out of character.

  This trip has forced me to come out of my geeky, nerdy shell and open myself up to new experiences. I would call them ‘new opportunities’ but I’m not sure that would be the right word.

  No matter what, it’s been an interesting change of pace.

  Now, I’m eager to test the slot machine to see if my reverse engineering of the code works.

  The basement door opens and shoes clank loudly on the metal stairs as Natasha and Eva quickly make their way down. Natasha dashes across the concrete floor of the basement and wraps her arms around me in a big hug.

  Her action catches me off guard. I didn’t figure her as the touchy type.

  “You did it,” she says, releasing me with a big smile before hugging me again.

  Eva walks up behind us and gives me a quick pat on my back with her manicured hand. “Good job, Jade. Show us what you’ve accomplished. We’re excited.”

  “The completed code is finished running, but I haven’t worked out the exact details of the best way for you to use it,” I say. “I’m not that far
along in the process.”

  “Don’t worry about that part,” Eva says. “We already know what to do with the code. We’ll do the same thing the Russians did. Except improve upon their method and be smarter about it so we won’t get caught. The plan isn’t complicated. In fact, it’s very simple. It’s a shame you won’t be hanging around to watch your hard work pay off.”

  I’m a little disappointed about that too. Not that I’ll tell her.

  “How did the Russians pull it off?” I ask. “I have a fairly good idea, but there are a few details that I can’t figure out.”

  Eva gives me a knowing smile. “You’re dying to hear, aren’t you?” She gives a little shake of her head. “I’m sorry. We can’t reveal the plan unless you agree to work with us on implementing it. Show us your progress.”

  “Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

  I reach for one of the twenty-dollar bills Eva supplied me with for testing. Unlike the slot machines I’ve played at the casino, this one takes cash along with credit cards. Sliding it into the machine, I hit the spin button.

  An assortment of cute penguins, puffins, treasure chests, letters and numbers pop up. The colorful characters are spaced four rows across and five down. The screen remains still for only a split second before spinning again. I quickly memorize the combination of twenty characters each time before they rapidly change.

  “Each character combination of twenty corresponds to a numerical code in the machine’s computer program,” I say. “That’s why the programs are called ‘pseudo’ randomly generated numbers. They’re not random at all, just extremely difficult to pin down. It would be an impossible task to do without a computer.”