Fly With Fire (4 page)

“Yes
sir, your honor. Ms. Whitman.” He nodded and walked toward the door leading
into the entry hall instead. Mo admired his stature as he went out and assumed a
position as sentry exchanging a few words with another of the mayor’s
bodyguards. He was tall and broad shouldered. His hair cut short. She scanned
an eye down the back of him.

“It
was very kind of you to send your car for me.” She addressed the mayor shifting
from one foot to the other. Her feet already ached a little from the new shoes.
 

“We
like to take care of our favored guests.” He signaled a waiter who brought over
a tray of champagne filled glasses. “Especially the beautiful ones.” He offered
her a glass.

She
has so many that want her that it means nothing to her, he thought watching
her.  She takes for granted that they want her. She believes she deserves
the devotion of the masses. No one could possibly feel the way I do about her.
He downed a vodka. She acts as if I’m not even here. Most of the time. Maybe
she’s trying to make me jealous. But she gives me little hints. A look, a sigh.
The lightest touch. Accidentally of course. I know what she really wants. I
know what she really needs.

He
eyed the cop that had picked her up at the coliseum just as he’d been about to
approach her. Yeah, I saw how he looked at her. What makes him think he has the
right? Arrogant ass. And Claude? I was afraid he’d have to have a fall. At
least she’s not dating that blond guy anymore either. I don’t think I can take
it if I see her with another man. Why does she play these games with me? She’s
very friendly with that black guy. The Rasta. He snorted. He better stay away
if he knows what’s good for him. Now look at her with the Mayor of Chicago
acting like she owns the world.

Maybe
tomorrow I’ll stop by her room for a friendly chat. Just for coffee. Sundays
she doesn’t get up as early. Has coffee in her room. He recalled her well
followed routine. She skips the gym and reads the paper. I’ll just happen by.
Give her the paper. Sure, she’ll ask me in for coffee. She wouldn’t want to be
rude. I’d go tonight but that might make her uncomfortable. No I’ll go in the
morning. She’ll let me in. I know what she wants.

Three
hours later, Mo’s feet killed her. She had danced with the mayor several times.
Had met the much mentioned Whitneys and had been invited to another party at
the mayor’s home later in the week. She noticed Zack Burnham here and there
being unobtrusive in the background. She noticed him chatting with Ling for a
few minutes. She approached him at one point and asked him if he danced. “Only
to the Mayor’s tune when I’m working.” He gave her a quick grin and went into
professional mode. His smile warmed a wary face. Handsome, Mo thought.
Troubled.

Mayor
Tyler said “good night” to Mo and waved Zack over. “Burnham, you have your car
here, make sure Ms. Whitman gets to her hotel safely. Ms. Whitman, I look
forward to seeing you again. Very Soon. If you want to come into the city, give
me a ring. I’ll give you the keys, so to speak.”

“Thanks,
that’s very kind. Roddy keeps us pretty busy. He’s a slave driver, actually.”
She glanced at the manager, who feigned innocence to the charge. “Roddy, you
might as well ride with us since Lu had to leave.”

Tyler
kissed her hand looking into her eyes meaningfully. Zack looked the other way,
the exit of the other guests suddenly of the greatest interest.

“So
your wife wasn’t feeling well?” Zack buckled his seatbelt.

“Oh!
Bad headache. She has the migraine. It hit her suddenly. She insist I stay. She
need complete quiet and dark. Sometimes they last for days. But she is so
brave, so strong; I have to force her to lie down.” Roddy was in the back seat
loosening his bowtie with one hand, champagne flute in the other.

“I
don’t remember meeting the guy, your ah, partner. Hades.” He glanced at her
sidelong.

“I
think he had a hot date. He was there but he left early.” She looked straight
ahead without further comment.

“So
he’s not your…” He knew he shouldn’t ask.

“Not my husband or boyfriend
or friend for that matter. He’s my partner in the act. Roddy’s doing.” She
jerked her head towards the back seat then smoothed her already smooth dress.
“But he’s very good. You can trust him in the air. In our work, Mr. Burnham,
trust is everything.” Why did he have the feeling the guy didn’t merit trust
otherwise? Her clipped tone?

Mo looked over her shoulder
into the back seat. “Roddy, do you realize we’re riding with a cop, in a cop’s
car and you have a glass of champagne? Officer Burnham that man stole a glass
from the restaurant.”

“But I am not driving.” Roddy
took a sip and smiled happily at Mo, flushed with the success of the evening.

“I’m off duty, and anyway, I’m
out of my jurisdiction,” Zack said with a grin. They arrived at the hotel. Zack
jumped out and went around.

“Thank you. I feel like
you’re my Greendale tour guide. I guess it’s worth an autograph to have a
driver direct from the mayor’s office.” Mo took his hand as he helped her up
the curb. “Thank you, my feet are killing me.”

“I can tell.”

“Regular Sherlock Holmes are
you?” she asked with a smile.  “How many corns have I got?”

“None, you take good…” he
eyed her up and down, “very good care of yourself.”

“You’re as big a flirt as the
mayor. When you’re not working.” She turned and laughed at Roddy who was
hanging on the hood of the car. “I think my boss needs a police escort. 1553.
The key’s in his pocket. You do turn down service too?” She laughed and walked
in the door.

The music of her laugh was in
his mind the whole time he half carried Roddy to his room. “Turn down and tuck
in, lady.” He said to himself. “I could tuck in on that!”

Morning came with a little
headache and sore feet. Mo turned and kissed her fingertips and touched them on
the black and white photo of a dark skinned beauty in a white leotard. “Thanks
Gram. Another great show.” She made coffee in the luxurious but sterile feeling
room and taking it into the bathroom ran a bath. The warm water was soothing.
The coffee, survival. She soaked a while sipping her coffee and thinking about
the show. She shook her head when she caught herself thinking about a tall,
rugged looking detective with broad shoulders and green eyes. She chuckled knowing
she probably wouldn’t be seeing him again. Besides he was a cop. A cop was the
antithesis of her kind of people, the artistic eccentrics she had always been
around.

Mo rose from the bath with a
sigh wrapping a towel around her head and donning a fluffy terry robe.
Sterility aside, she had to admit the accommodations were first class. As she
tied the belt she recalled that she had asked for a paper. She went to the door
and put her hand on the knob when there was a knock. Linc stood outside with
the paper in his hand.

“You looking for this?” He
thrust it at her.

“What’s up, Linc. You had
coffee?” She opened the door.

“I had coffee four hours ago.
Yeah, gimme some.” His dreadlocks were tied in a pony tail. He wore his running
clothes. Mo poured him a cup of coffee. He took it and sat with his elbows on
his knees. “Ling didn’t come in ‘til five o’clock.”

“You have an unhealthy
tendency to keep track of Ling’s movements.” She sat down across from him. “You
need to put it out there or let it go. Let it go and accept what is.” Mo pulled
the towel off her head and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Her rooms right next to
mine. I was up.” He heaved a glum sigh. “She’ll never like me. She’s, you know.
And I’m…”

“Ling’s not a racist.
Sometimes people just don’t click that way. It has nothing to do with race.”

“I meant she’s a premier act
and I’m just a background tumbler.” He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes white people
got more race problems than black people!”

“Point taken.” She sat back
and took a sip of her coffee.

“So, hey with the police
escort and all, Ms. Biglady.”

“I’m so Biglady and you’re
so…” She did her best Gloria Swanson. “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille.”
They laughed. “You know Linc, Ling wants to be seen as wild and rebellious. But
look at what she reads. She’s a more serious person than she likes to let on.
She may have graduated college at nineteen but she’s still trying to break
loose of the demands of her mother. She’s young and so are you. You have plenty
of time for serious relationships.”

“Coming from a grand old lady
of twenty six, I’ll take your wisdom with a grain. Love is love. Eighteen or
eighty, love and passion…well, they mess you up. I am messed up about Ling and she
doesn’t even know. I guess she senses something ‘cause she has kinda pulled
back.”

“You’ve got to pull back too
if that’s what Ling wants. But how can she know that if she doesn’t know how
you feel? Problem is you’re already head over heels. That’s a lot of pressure.
You’ve got to do some of your TM stuff and scale back the infatuation. Whatever
you do, don’t let it interfere with your work relationship. You’re good Lincoln
but you see this as a temp gig. Ling is the best at what she does. Her need is
to focus. We have a short window in our business. In ten years or so Ling will
probably be teaching physics and I’ll be coaching. That’s if I’m lucky. Go
forward slowly. Ask her out. If you breathe down her neck, she’ll only cut you
off. How’s school going?”

“Good, when I can keep my
mind on it. I can’t tumble forever, I know that. Thank God for online courses.
I’ll have my CPA in one more year. Then no more hotels, no more road. I want to
marry Ling and have my own office in Cleveland. Buy Mama a house. Have some
babies. Buy Ling a house, have more babies.”

“They’ve got birth control
now you know. Ling’s only twenty two and she has said…” A knock at the door
interrupted her train of thought. Mo went to the door where she found Ling
leaning against the wall haggardly looking up at her. She waved impatiently to
be let in. “Oh, Hi, Ling. Linc and I were just having coffee.”

“I was just going,” Linc
jumped up. Near lunch time for me. Hey, Ling. See you later, Mo.” He sauntered
out.

“Coffee with Linc?” Ling eyed
Mo’s tousled, barely dried hair.

“He was going by when I was
getting the paper.” Mo looked at Ling’s smeared mascara and rumpled Goth dress.
She turned back into the room, Ling following.

“Ever notice how people who
get up with the roosters think they’re better than other people?” Ling plopped
on the big sofa forgetting Mo was generally one of those early risers.

“Coffee?” Mo busied herself
making another pot. “I don’t think that description fits Linc. Just his nature.
He has goals and fortunately, loads of self discipline.”

“Talked to that cop.” Ling
changed the subject stretching herself out. You remember? The tall hunky one
with Mayor Whatshisname?”

“Mmm?”

“He was cute, thought I’d do
‘im. Old, kinda. In his thirties.” She yawned loudly.

“A relic.” Mo stared at the
coffee pot. She loved Ling but sometimes she wondered just how she’d rated that
one fifty two IQ.

“I’m trying to hit on him and
he just kept asking questions about you.”

Mo furrowed her brow. “What
kind of questions?”

“General enough. Where you
live. I mean city. He didn’t ask for your address, Momo! How long you’ve been
the fire catcher. How long since you and Claude broke up. Stuff like that.”
Ling gave out another loud yawn.

“And you gave him all the
answers?” She threw off her robe in an impatient huff and pulled underwear out
of a drawer. Despite what she had told Zack Burnham he knew there had been
something between her and Claude. Well, she’d probably never see him again. The
coffee maker sputtered. Mo poured two cups and sat one on the table at the end
of the sofa. Ling ignored it. She was going to get some sleep.

Ling sleepily admired Mo’s
tall, lean body. Envied the height of it. It was curvy for an athletic body.
The breasts smaller but full and round. The waist was long with toned muscle.
Mo attracted men in a way Ling envied, and was certainly aware of. But it
wasn’t something she seemed to think much about. She didn’t go out of her way
to do it, Ling thought as she admired the taller woman. That was something she
envied too, in a friendly way. “You’re the only one I know who unpacks her
suitcases and actually uses the dresser. I thought they were fake drawer fronts
for a long time. Anyway it was harmless curiosity. I told him you and Claude
hadn’t really gotten off the ground.” She giggled at her own joke.
”Romantically, that is.” Ling assessed her short well proportioned legs. Longer
would be better she thought. “So what’s up with Linc? He told me he had lots of
studying to do. CPA shit. Gonna be a suit. That’ll be the day.” She pulled a
throw from the back of the sofa over her face. “It’s too bright in here.”

“He’s perfectly serious. He
has plans for the future.” She didn’t mention how Ling fit into those plans.
“He knows a body doesn’t last forever in our business.” Mo pulled on leotards
and shrugged on a button down shirt dress. She looked at Ling in the mirror as
she buttoned the buttons with her long fingers. The black, wilted spikes of her
friend’s hair were all she could see. Wouldn’t know a good man if she tripped
over one, Mo thought. And she has. Well they were young. At least Linc was
realistic, except when it came to making babies. He’d move on she was sure. She
looked at her own face with its trace of freckles and high, sharp cheekbones.
Her large black eyes slanted a bit. She had a slightly oriental look herself
except for the slight arch to her nose. An astute person might guess at the
Native American blood in her.