CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX: Song Stuck in Your Head
Harold met Andie as she was walking out of her apartment. She was stunning. She was wearing a turquoise sweater, which buttoned up the front. The top four buttons were undone, revealing an ample amount of cleavage. Judging from the tight knit pants she wore, it was obvious she was wearing either a thong or nothing at all underneath. Her hair was styled to perfection. It was bouncing on her shoulders as she moved her head from side to side – a seductive move that drove Harold nuts. He could tell she had spent plenty of time preparing for this date. He had no idea just how much.
“My God, you look marvelous,” said Harold.
“Thank you,” said Andie. She put her arms around him and gave him a tremendous kiss. Her hand slid down and playfully grabbed his butt.
“I wasn’t expecting that kind of reception,” said Harold.
“Oh, really?” asked Andie. “Just what kind of greeting were you expecting?”
“I thought you would be upset with me, especially the way I left you in New Orleans.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. I know it’s because of business. You have all night to make it up to me.”
Harold wondered if he had enough energy to pull off this date. After hearing Andie’s request for Mexican food, Harold drove to Tostados, a Mexican restaurant near the Kensington building.
“Why are we coming here?” asked Andie.
“You said you wanted Mexican food.”
“I told you that I wanted go to El Muchacho,” said Andie.
“But we just ate there a few nights ago,” Harold remarked.
“I really want to go to El Muchacho,” said Andie. She reached over and started nibbling on his earlobe.
“Anything you say,” said Harold.
Nick made a run by the security office after ditching the suspicious guard. Benny had been there earlier but was released after security realized he was no risk at all. Nick picked up his luggage at baggage pick-up and causally strolled to the main entrance. He had a gorgeous woman waiting at his apartment but he was in no hurry. He didn’t want to end up in the same compromising position with Julie as he had with Kat. He hailed a cab and had the driver take the scenic route home. As they drove by the lake, Nick saw the portable sign lighting the parking lot at El Muchacho. It showed that Chaz Reed was performing his acoustic set that night. Nick had the cabby pull in. He sometimes sat in with Chaz for a few songs. Nick really missed performing. As he walked in, Chaz was playing Love Blender for the fourth time. The raucous crowd was dancing around the tables, singing the words like it was an old standard. Nick squeezed his way to the crowded bar, trying to order a drink.
“Hey, Raul,” Nick shouted at the bartender, “Can you get me a cold one?
“When I get a chance, Nick,” replied the frantic bartender. Sunday was usually a slow night so he was the only bartender on duty. People were strolling in like mad. The patrons were calling friends and relatives to the bar, telling them about Chaz playing Love Blender. Chaz finished the song as the crowd went wild. He didn’t see Nick walk in.
“I’m going to slow it down a bit,” said Chaz. “Anything else y’all would like to hear?”
“Love Blender,” was the reply on most of their inebriated lips. Nick laughed at Chaz’s predicament. He hated the song even more than Chaz. He finally got his drink from Raul when he looked up and noticed a sight that made his heart feel as if a train hit it. Andie was walking in, holding hands with Harold. Nick had never seen Andie looking so striking before. He kept hidden and observed the couple.
“It sure is a lot more crowded than the last time we were here,” said Harold. “It seems like I hear that song everywhere I go.”
“Chaz is a talented musician,” said Andie. “There’s not much he can’t play.” The waitress sat them at a reserved table near the crowded bar area. Andie ordered the nachos and a carafe of margarita.
“I’m going to bring him a request,” said Andie. She wrote on the drink napkin what seemed to be a song title. Harold couldn’t tell what it was. He watched Andie walk up to Chaz and whisper something in his ear. He nodded his head as if to acknowledge Andie’s request. He looked in his hand and found a one hundred-dollar bill inside the napkin. She returned to their table and looked at her watch.
“Does he know the song you requested?” asked Harold.
“Yeah, he sure does. He said he’ll play it in about fifteen minutes,” said Andie. Nick watched the couple as they enjoyed the music. From what he could tell, they looked happy together. Nick knew that Harold was going after the record company but he wasn’t sure what his intentions were with Andie. He wanted to go right to the table and confront Harold, but realized that would make him look like some kind of jerk. Maybe Andie really liked this guy and he didn’t want to jeopardize his friendship with her. He watched as she leaned over and gave him a kiss, as she held the back of his neck. Nick couldn’t stand it any longer. He gulped down the last drop of his drink and walked out the restaurant. He unknowingly passed right behind Debbie on his way out. She had her head on the bar, trying desperately to forget about everything that was happening.
Wilcox drove Wainwright up to his mansion. Wainwright hadn’t been this close to his home in a year. He got out the car and walked up to the front door. He turned the knob, but it was locked.
“They probably changed the locks,” said Wilcox. “I don’t have any keys anyway,” said Wainwright.
“Allow me,” said Wilcox. He turned around and gave a kick with the bottom of his heel to the knob. The door opened with ease.
“I didn’t realize it was so easy to break into this place,” said Wainwright. “I really need to change this door.”
As they entered the foyer, Wainwright was amazed how little was changed. His priceless Egyptian artifacts were lined on the eye-level shelf. The stuffed head of an African lion was visible as they turned the corner. It was proudly displayed over the mantle of the marble fireplace.
“Nice stuff you have here,” said Wilcox.
“My pride and joy,” said Wainwright. “I guess that’s why it was so easy for Grimes to fool everybody. I made a lot of trips to these wild places, collecting paraphernalia from around the world. It’s my hobby.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call that lion’s head paraphernalia,” said Wilcox. “Did you bag that yourself?”
“I sure did. It was about ten years ago. I was on one of my real safaris - not one of those made up ones I supposedly have been on for the last year. I was about twenty yards in front of this magnificent creature, when I pulled up my gun, squeezed the trigger, and heard a loud click. I had forgotten to reload the stupid thing. That monster lunged at me and I was lucky enough to dodge it the first time. It turned around and came right back at me. I quickly turned the rifle around and shoved the butt of the gun right between the bastard’s eyes. I heard his skull crack and he went down just like that. I call him Peter.”
“Because of Peter Grimes?”
“No, because of Peter Frampton. That lion fell down faster than Peter Frampton’s career.”
“That’s amazing,” said Wilcox.
“Actually, it’s kind of sad.”
“Why? Did you like Peter Frampton that much?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s kind of sad, too, but it’s because I can face a creature like this without blinking an eye, but I couldn’t face myself after I turned back to the bottle.”
“But that wasn’t your fault,” said the sympathetic Wilcox. “You were initially drugged. That’s what kept you on the booze.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Wainwright. “It beat me once before and it beat me again.”
“But you’re beating it now.”
“You don’t have any idea how much I want to get a drink right now, son. I don’t have any idea how I’m going to get control of my company back now.”
“We’ll come up with something,” said Wilcox.
They both turned their heads as they heard the sound of a car door slamming.
&n
bsp; “Somebody’s here,” said Wainwright. He and Wilcox hid behind the leather sofa as they watched Gary Bell enter the house.
“Who in the hell parked that piece of shit Dodge in front of my house and broke the freaking doorknob?” yelled Bell.
“Please don’t use that kind of language,” said Kristi.
“I’m sorry, baby,” said Bell. “I just don’t want to blow this thing. Somebody’s in my house and I’m going to find them.” He walked into the den where Wainwright and Wilcox were hiding. He saw footprints indented in the plush, bright-white colored carpet, leading to the back of the sofa. He pulled out his gun.
“Whoever you are, get your ass out from the back of the sofa,” he said. When they heard Bell cock the gun, Wilcox and Wainwright came up. “Just who in the hell are you?” asked Bell.
“I’m William Joseph Wainwright, the owner of this house.”
“You’re Wainwright? I thought you were dead – at least that’s what the newspapers said.”
“Well, obviously, I’m not.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“He’s Sergeant…”
“Sargantini Johnson,” Wilcox quickly said. Wainwright looked at him with confusion. “I’m a friend of Wainwright here.” He kept his hand in his pocket, next to his gun.
“What are you doing in my house?” asked Bell.
“Your house? I hate to break the news to you, Bell, but this is my house,” said Wainwright.
“Sorry, old man, but it’s legally my house. You signed it over to Peter Grimes last year.”
“I never did such a thing. And even if I did, what would you be doing in Peter Grimes’ house?”
Bell started laughing. “Because I own your law firm now.”
“What?” Wainwright asked.
“Yeah. I acquired the part of Verona Enterprises that was the cover for buying your law firm.”
“I don’t understand. Grimes would never let go of that firm, especially after thinking I was out of the picture.”
“Grimes didn’t know about Verona taking over the firm. He thought Verona was just using it to cover up his illegal business. Verona worked it out to put the ownership of the firm into the entertainment division of his enterprise. He thought Grimes wouldn’t be able to find out about it, being hidden away like that. Luckily enough, I found out about it.”
“How did you find out?” asked Wainwright.
“I’ve been trying to get Verona for the last ten years. I just don’t like the man. He’s been a thorn in my family’s side for as long as I can remember.”
“What did he do to your family?” asked Wainwright.
“Well, my father was dating this girl in Chicago in the late fifties. He really loved that woman. Verona came along and stole her from him. My father married my mother a few years later, but he was always thinking about the one that got away. He made my mother miserable. They were always fighting about this woman. My father couldn’t get her out of his mind. They ended up getting a divorce because of it.”
“So you’re out to destroy Verona because of a personal family vendetta?” asked the stunned Wainwright.
“I guess you could say that,” said Bell.
“Son, have I got an amazing story for you,” said Wainwright.
Chaz had just finished playing Love Blender for the sixth time.
“I really need to play this request,” he said, as he looked at his watch. “This goes out to that couple sitting right over there.” He pointed Andie and Harold out.
“You’re going to love this song, baby,” Andie told Harold.
“I haven’t played this song since the early eighties,” said Chaz, “so bear with me. It’s a song by a man named Benny Mardones. He had this one hit then I never heard from him again. It’s a really good song, though.” He strummed his guitar softly, trying to remember the chord changes. Andie glanced at her watch and became a little nervous.
“Why do you keep looking at your watch?” asked Harold. “Are you in some kind hurry?”
“In a hurry to get you home to bed,” she replied. “I just want to hear this song first.”
Chaz was ready. “Okay, here we go.”
He started playing the song. The slow ballad was a sharp contrast to Love Blender, but the opening words resonated loud and clear…
“She’s just sixteen years old,” sang Chaz.
“That’s that pedophile song from the eighties,” hollered a drunken patron, as Chaz continued singing.
“Oh, my God,” yelled a young coed. “He’s singing about banging a sixteen-year old.”
“Play Love Blender,” another patron screamed.
Andie was watching Harold’s face as Chaz continued to sing the song. It was nearly as white as the sour cream on her nachos the waitress had just brought to their table.
“Isn’t this a great song?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah – not bad,” he muttered form his almost catatonic state. He felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Well, look who’s here,” said Andie, as she stared over Harold’s shoulder.
Harold slowly turned around and was looking right into the chest of Carlos Verona. He inched his eyes up towards Carlos’s.
“So, you’ve been screwing my precious niece,” said Carlos.
“Consider yourself busted,” said Andie, with a satisfied smile.
Harold didn’t know what to do. That decision was made for him as he felt each arm grabbed by Carlos’s two bodyguards – Jamie Dumbrowski and Frankie Deville. They quickly removed Harold from the restaurant. No one noticed since everyone was in the bar area listening to Chaz playing loudly over the crowd’s disapproval and the Love Blender chanting. Carlos went back to Andie.
“I want to thank you for letting me know about this, Miss Jenson,” he said, as he kissed her hand.
“It was my pleasure, Mr. Verona,” said Andie.
“Please – call me Carlos.”
“Okay – Carlos. And please – keep calling me Miss Jenson.” Carlos acknowledged Andie’s remark as he tipped his fedora to her. Andie continued drinking the margaritas, and enjoyed the rest of the song – at least what she could hear.
“Love-Blen-der, Love-Blen-der…” was the crowd’s unrelenting chant.
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 58