Lovers and Gamblers (41 page)

He pushed down on the dark-haired girl’s head, forcing her to take him deeper into her mouth.

‘Come on, baby,’ he crooned, ‘take it all, swallow it down.’

The dark-haired girl did her best.

None of them heard the key in the door. None of them noticed the door tentatively open. They were all fully absorbed.

‘Suck, suck… Shit!’ Al started to reach orgasm, the dark-haired girl hanging on in there, Golden Lady twisting herself round his legs, determined to get in on the act.

Edna stood in the doorway transfixed with shock. At first she had thought it must be the wrong room, but as she tried to back quickly out, she realized it must be the right room because that was Al standing there,
her
Al, with those two filthy women doing things to him, disgusting things, degrading things. And the funny thing was he was
letting
them. He was just standing there allowing them to molest him. Allowing them to suck on his private parts like vultures.

Edna felt the vomit rise in her throat, she couldn’t control it.

Golden Lady saw her first. ‘Who the frig are you?’ she demanded, unwinding herself from around Al’s legs and standing up.

Al saw her next, but didn’t recognize her for a moment. The clothes, the hair, everything was so different. Realization dawned like a nagging stomach ache.

* * *

Melanie let herself quietly into Paul’s suite. She switched on the lights in the living room and looked around. It was really quite nice, although she was sure that Al’s was probably better.

She checked herself in the mirror. Yes, she looked good, a little tired, but certainly a restful night’s sleep would take care of that.

She was pleased with the way things had been going. One smile and they came running after her in droves. If she hadn’t had Edna trailing along behind her, she
really
could have had a good time. As it was she had had fun.

She smiled secretly to herself. Paul didn’t realize how lucky he was having a wife like her.

She peered round the bedroom door and saw a huddled shape in bed. Carrying her toilet case she went quietly into the bathroom. A nice refreshing shower and she would surprise her husband in bed.

It was a tremendous shock, but at the same time it was no surprise at all. For all along Dallas had known that eventually Bobbie would turn up. The only question in her mind had been when.

Bobbie didn’t say a word. She just huddled in the chair staring at Dallas, her afro wig curled to ridiculous heights, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.

Calmly Dallas switched off the stereo. ‘How did you get in?’ she asked.

‘Hey, sugar sweets, aintcha never heard of pickin’ a lock? Sweetstuff, I was
born
on the street – ain’t never come across a lock to defeat me yet.’

‘You chose the wrong profession – you should have been a burglar,’ said Dallas drily. She refused to be intimidated by this person. ‘What do you want?’ she added coldly.

‘Some greetin’!’ complained Bobbie. ‘Some shit-ass greeting from such an
old
friend.’

Dallas glared at her steadily, ‘Cut the crap, friend. Tell me what you want and get out.’

Bobbie seemed to have developed a nervous facial tic. It looked like some kind of obscene wink. She stood up, and Dallas noticed how painfully thin she had become. She wore white shorts and scuffed boots and her thighs had an unattractive hollow appearance. Her face was thick with makeup. She seemed to have aged years.

With a shudder Dallas remembered her relationship with this girl. Personal and business. It all seemed like another world away.

‘How about a drink?’ Bobbie asked, attempting a camaraderie that had ceased to exist long ago. ‘You all are doin’ pretty fine – guess you can afford a shot of somethin’ for good ole Bobbie.’

‘Do you need money? Have you come here to blackmail me?’

‘
Blackmail!
Shit, girl. I taught you everything you know. If it wasn’t for me you’d still be peddlin’ it for twenty bucks a night. I got you out of that scene. Blackmail – shit! You were some green little kid with a foxy pair of tits and a hot box. Blackmail! Ain’t that a bitch!’

Dallas picked up her purse. ‘I can give you two hundred dollars, it’s all I have in cash. But get this straight – don’t come back for more. I’m not giving you this money because I have to. I’m giving it to you because I’m sorry for you.’

Bobbie laughed uneasily. ‘Sorry for me! You paranoid or something? Ain’t
nobody
gotta be sorry for me. I’m together, like really in tune. You wanna give me two hundred bucks – sure, I’ll take it. I don’t need it but, shit, I deserve it.’ She snatched the money and stuffed it in the waistband of her shorts. She seemed uncertain as to whether to continue the conversation or not, but Dallas made up her mind for her by walking to the door and flinging it open.

‘Goodbye, Bobbie, don’t come back.’

‘Some welcome!’ Her facial tic seemed to get worse, but her mind seemed to be on the money tucked into her waistband. She headed for the door and as she passed, Dallas noticed that her whole body was shaking. On a sudden impulse Dallas grabbed the black girl’s arm and pushed up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The whole arm was a mass of angry red tracks. ‘You really did it, didn’t you?’ Dallas said in a rush of sympathy.

Bobbie pulled her arm sharply away. ‘Go fuck yourself,’ she growled, ‘you fuckin’ big time motha! Don’t you go givin’ me your shit ass “what a
bad
girl Bobbie is” crap.’

‘You need help…’

‘Fuck help. I ain’t never had any.’ She laughed in a cavalier fashion. ‘Dontcha know? I was born with a pair of cement balls – they’ll keep me going.’ She walked in a jaunty way out of the door. ‘You’ll need a friend one day. Don’t come a-runnin’ to my door, sweet stuff.’

Then she was gone, walking off down the hill in her scuffed boots and ridiculous wig.

With a heavy feeling Dallas knew that she would be back. The two hundred dollars was only a beginning. A girl with a habit like that to support was going to run out of money real fast.

* * *

‘I think you should handle me,’ the girl said. She was incredibly pretty, with an abundance of blond curls and a devastating smile. Her tongue flicked out and licked full glossy lips. ‘I don’t know why you’re fighting it, you know we’d be good for each other. I’d be a very cooperative client.’ She emphasized cooperative, leaving Cody in no doubt about what the cooperative would encompass.

He cleared his throat, glad that his desk stood protectively between them. ‘Well, Carol…’ he began, continuing with a quick line of bullshit that he was getting quite proficient at. He called it his ‘don’t call me I’ll call you’ line.

It was amazing the people who had wanted to become clients. If he was just after a quick buck he would have signed all of them.

Carol Cameron was not an unknown little starlet. She had starred in two very successful sex horror movies – not hard core either. The trouble was she couldn’t act and she had screwed half – if not all – of Hollywood to get where she was today.

Cody did not fancy her, and even if he did it would not make any difference to his decision. Sex would not get in the way of business. He had proved that with Dallas.

Carol knew a turndown when she saw one. She stood up, smoothed down the revealing jersey dress she was wearing. Her nipples strained to escape the confines of the material. ‘Think about it, Cody. Why don’t you drop by my house later and have a drink?’

‘I’m having dinner with my mother,’ he replied quickly. Sometimes his mother came in very useful.

‘So later,’ Carol purred. ‘You’re not going to sleep with your mother, are you?’

He laughed at what he supposed was a joke. Very bad taste, like the lady who had made it.

‘I don’t think I can…’ Why was he making excuses? Why didn’t he just tell her no? ‘No,’ he said.

‘No?’ she questioned.

‘No, I… er… can’t.’

She pouted, ‘Shame! Perhaps another night. I’ll call you.’

Mental note. Tell secretary he was always out to any calls from Miss Carol Cameron.

‘Wonderful! I’ll look forward to it.’

She blew him a kiss and undulated out of his office. It was horribly old-fashioned to undulate. Dallas strode – long, purposeful, sexy strides, like a beautiful leopard.

Thinking of Dallas reminded him it was late, and she would be home from the studio by now. Kiki and Chuck were coming over and they were going to barbecue. He had promised to pick up the steaks, and agreeing to see Carol Cameron had made him late. He swore softly, gathered up some papers he wanted to go over later, and left the office.

* * *

Dallas was drinking too much. She had dived into the vodka before dinner, heavily indulged in the wine during dinner, and now was into her third Cointreau on the rocks.

‘I thought this was going to be a quiet evening at home,’ Cody said, following her into the kitchen whilst she stacked the plates in the dishwasher.

‘So it is,’ she replied brightly. ‘Everyone’s having a good time, the steaks were great.’

Gently he extracted the glass from her hand. ‘You’re working tomorrow.’

She snatched it back. ‘I’m working every day.’ There was a hard edge to her voice. ‘I’m a working girl, always have been.’

‘What’s the matter?’ Cody asked patiently.

‘Matter?’ Her eyes filled with sudden tears. ‘Why should anything be the matter?’

Kiki breezed into the kitchen. ‘I’m taking my man home,’ she announced. ‘Sorry about eating and running, but if I don’t get him home now, he’s going to be a permanent fixture in front of your TV!’

‘Take him home and give him one for me.’ Dallas shot a baleful look at Cody. ‘That’s about all I’ll get tonight!’

‘Oh boy!’ exclaimed Kiki. ‘We’ll get out before the dishes fly!’ She winked at Cody. ‘See you all tomorrow.’

She thought it was all a big joke. A lovers’ quarrel. Everyone thought that Dallas and Cody were lovers.

‘I hate you,’ Dallas said spitefully when Cody returned from seeing their guests off. ‘I really hate you, and what’s more I think you’re a fag. You hear me – a FAG.’

Her anger at finding Bobbie in her house was finally erupting. And Cody was the nearest target.

‘You’re drunk,’ he said quietly. ‘Why don’t you go to bed?’

‘Fag!’ she jeered. ‘Closet queen!’

His mouth tightened. ‘I’m going home. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, go on home – or better still why don’t you run on over to mommy’s?’ She tore off her shirt and faced him menacingly, her naked breasts perfect in their splendour. ‘I’m offering you for free something that other men have had to pay for. But it’s too much for you, isn’t it? You’d sooner sink it into some nice tight ass… You’d sooner…’

He approached her swiftly, gripped her by the shoulders. ‘What do you mean – other men have had to pay for it?’

She was suddenly sullen. ‘Nothing.’

He shook her. ‘What do you mean?’ He was now as angry as she was.

She tried to shrug him off, but he had her in a tight grip. ‘I said nothing…’ she muttered.

His anger collapsed. ‘I don’t know you, do I? I worship you and I know nothing about you.’ He let go of her and turned to go.

She ran after him, pulled him round to face her. ‘I was a hooker,’ she screamed, ‘a cheap twenty-dollar hooker! Does that satisfy you? Does that make you feel better? No wonder you don’t want to fuck me…’ The tears came on top of the anger and she fell on to the couch sobbing.

He was shocked, genuinely shocked. But then he knew that he had never investigated her past because he was frightened of what he would find out.

He went to her, held her in his arms, comforted her while she poured out her life.

She left out Lew Margolis and the pictures. She left out Bobbie and their relationship. She left out her marriage at sixteen.

She told him what it suited her to tell him. She told him what she thought he could accept and still keep loving her.

In the early hours of the morning they chartered a jet, flew to Las Vegas, and got married.

Cody knew when he was needed.

When Melanie slid confidently into bed alongside her husband, she was aghast to find herself embracing feminine curves. Linda had been similarly aghast, and Paul had been hopeful that perhaps a freak earthquake might hit New Orleans.

Meanwhile, Edna was in a state of shock, seeing her beloved husband indulging in the sort of activities that she had thought only existed in perverted people’s minds. As she threw up, she could think only of the fact that she was ruining somebody’s carpet, but somehow, for once in her life, it didn’t seem to matter, and she stood there vomiting, oblivious to the hostile stare of the Golden Lady whom Al had kicked half-way across the room.

‘Jeeesus Chriiist!’ exclaimed Lynn as Al wrenched her head off him. ‘What is this?’

‘It’s my wife,’ explained Al, sobriety hitting him like a hammer. ‘Get the hell out of here!’

It wasn’t the first time that Lynn had been caught in a similar situation. Wordlessly, she grabbed her mink coat, flinging it over her nakedness. ‘Come on!’ she said to Golden Lady, who was grovelling around on the floor looking for her clothes.

Al said, ‘Edna?’ As if not quite sure it was really her.

She looked at him with pain-filled eyes. ‘I’m sorry…’ she began.

‘
She’s
sorry!’ huffed Lynn, pushing past with Golden Lady who was in a most bedraggled state. ‘If I was you, dear, I’d get a new lynx coat at least!’

Al waited until they were gone, then he walked over to Edna, took her arm, and led her to a chair. He slumped on the sofa next to her and muttered, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’

‘Put some clothes on, you’ll catch cold,’ she said in the normal voice of a mother scolding a child. Her eyes refused to meet his, they darted nervously round the room. She got up. ‘Where’s the bathroom? I want to clear up that mess.’

‘Leave it,’ he commanded.

‘I can’t leave it.’ Her voice was all choked up. ‘I can’t leave it, Al. And I’m sorry I came, and I’m sorry I upset you. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I told Melanie…’ Her voice began to quaver. ‘How
could
you? How could you?’ She broke into tears. ‘I only wanted to be with you on your birthday… That’s all. Oh, Al, why did you do it?’