CHAPTER THREE

Ressie stared at the shadowy trees and dark clumps of bushes and shrubs, thinking how menacing they appeared as they were momentarily illuminated by the car's headlights. The car circled Central Park for the third time and Ressie was becoming impatient. She cringed, as she listened to the soft crackle of the crack cocaine as it was being incinerated in Collette's gold tipped stem. Ressie casually unwrapped another dinner mint and popped it into her mouth wondering how a woman who had everything, a famous husband, money, servants and just about every creature comfort imaginable, could ride around and smoke crack in her limo! As the pungent smoke wafted towards her nostrils, she stole a sidelong glance at her long-time friend. She felt a bizarre combination of pity and disgust and tried to block the whole scene from her mind.

"Oh…so you're mad at me, huh?"

Ressie rolled the candy wrapper between her painted fingertips and looked for a place to discard it. She pretended not to have heard Collette's question.

"OK Mother Theresa, I'm finished…God, I just needed a little boost before we go inside that damn zoo!"

Ressie looked over at Collette as the woman opened her handbag and put the stem away. She pulled out her compact and began fixing her face. It was hard to ignore her glassy eyes and flushed face. Her speech seemed stilted as though her mouth had been numbed. "Well, say something…I know you hate it when I get high!"

"What's there for me to say, Collie…you're only going to do what you want…you always have!"

Collette leaned forward and pushed the intercom button. The stereo system that had been playing soft jazz was temporarily interrupted by Chris, the chauffeur's, metallic voice.

"Yes, Mrs. Garnett?"

"You can stop circling the park now, Chris…we're ready to go to the party!"

"Right, Mrs. Garnett, we should be there in less than ten minutes."

Collette glanced at Ressie as she settled into her seat. "Girl, I know you're not eating all that candy…Ressie girl, you know the last thing you need is candy…how much do you weigh now anyway?"

Ressie's face suddenly felt hot. Her body stiffened as she slowly and deliberately opened another mint. "I don't tell you not to smoke rocks, Collie…why you gotta get on my case about my weight?"

Collette acted as if she had not heard her.

"I bet you must weigh at least one fifty if you weigh an ounce…you know for your height, Ressie, that's too much…besides, its bad for your health."

"Oh…and crack's not?"

"I know what I'm doing…I can stop anytime I want…and anyway, how you think you're going to get a decent man carrying all that weight…looking like that."

"Collie, please don't start about my weight, OK…and as far as some damn man is concerned, I don't even worry myself about that."

The two women remained silent the rest of the ride to the party. The limo pulled up in front of a building somewhere in the West 70s. It was huge and tan and took up half a city block. It possessed the same aura as some of the older, long established city banks, massive with high ceilings, suggesting the invincibility of security and stability. The manicured lawn and exotic plants were a perfect backdrop for the sleek, expensive awning that stretched arrogantly from huge double brass doors to the curb. It was the ultimate enclave for the wealthy and privileged.

There were basically two types of people with which Marshall associated. One was the music mogul who produced records, made recording deals and earned money directly from the industry in one form or another. The other was the offspring of the old and moneyed idle rich, whose childlike fascination for music stars and the hedonistic atmosphere of the party scene had turned them into materialistic groupies that gravitated to the glamour and drug atmosphere of the industry. This was the clique that awaited Collette and Ressie at Marshall's opening night party.

The two women stepped from the elevator on the twenty-eighth floor and walked down a long, hallway until they reached a door with the numbers (1W-28) in gold letters. Collette removed a small metal strip from her invitation and pushed it into a slot just above the doorbell. The door popped open and they were promptly greeted by a formally dressed man with salt and pepper hair and a languid expression. His eyes appraised the two women as Collette handed him the invitation. His accompanying, "Good evening ladies," was formal and cold. They appeared to be in some sort of ante room just outside the main hall. Ressie could hear the faint sounds of music as the man looked over the invitation. His attitude changed as he handed the card back.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mrs. Garnett…just a formality you understand. Please, step through the metal detector and go in." As the two women stepped through the detector a bell went off. The man nodded at them that it was OK to go in. Ressie wondered why in the hell did they go through all this if they were not going to check things out.

The duplex was huge and magnificent. It was done in varying hues of gold, set off by earth tone furniture and exotic plants and trees. Ressie was stunned. She was college educated and a fairly sophisticated woman, but just three feet from where she and Collette stood were two of the best known actors in the world, drunk…and one whom she had often dreamed of someday meeting was leering at one of the waiters and playfully grabbing at his crotch! A white jacketed waiter appeared and held out a tray for her.

"What is it?"

"Champagne…Cristal…would you care for something else?"

Ressie eased one of the glasses from the tray. What the hell did she know about expensive wines! The waiter smiled and disappeared. She looked around, Collette was nowhere in sight. She stepped down into the sunken living room, losing herself in the aromatic potpourri of expensive perfumes and colognes that permeated the strangely energized room.

The room was noisy as she occasionally took a sip of the excellent wine and listened to snatches of conversation. She passed a well known soap opera actress who was better known for never having won an Emmy than anything she had accomplished on the small screen. The woman stood with her back to Ressie, talking to two executive types with bored expressions. Her red, silk backless gown was exquisite. "I mean it doesn't make any sense…I've been a major star for over ten years…and I can't get a break from these bastards…there's no way anybody can tell me there's not a conspiracy against me…no fucking way!"

Ressie then stood next to a well known black radio personality whose shoulder length perm was so well done that she had to fight back the insane impulse to ask him who his hairdresser was. The skinny, well endowed blonde who hung on his every word was someone that she did not recognize. The glowing expression of idolatry on the woman's face told her there was no need.

"So you see what I'm saying to you, sweetness…this is a dirty, dog eat dog business…you need someone like me to look after you…somebody you can really trust…I'm not saying it ought to be me, you understand…just somebody like me …you know…someone you can trust"

In a far corner of the room, near a miniature waterfall, sat J.T. Dodson, a well known feminist writer and novelist. Her trademark butch haircut and expensive man tailored suits left little doubt as to what her quarry for the evening would be. The pretty, petite black girl who stood near her appeared nervous and uncertain.

The things that impressed Ressie the most were the clothes and jewelry that lay as easily on the guests as butter does to bread. She had spent over a month's salary on the wool suit she wore, and her emerald and gold ring was the most expensive piece of jewelry she owned. But it had only cost a thousand dollars and a simple glance across the room reminded her once again that she was way out of her league. There was something about the atmosphere of the rich and famous that was intoxicating, and Ressie was completely overwhelmed.

Antoine LeBaron stood six feet five inches in his socks and had long, shoulder length dark brown hair. He was a millionaire many times over and the most powerful record producer on the east coast. He was forty years old and a notorious fitness freak. He existed solely for the purpose of manipulating and controlling the lives of others. The accumulation of money and power was only a means to that end. They were merely accessories to him in the pursuit of this singular passion in life.

There was a stillness that surrounded the man. It was almost as if he could put himself into a trance or some sort of deep meditation. No one that knew him had ever seen him angry or lose his temper. His ability to persuade and get others to do his bidding had reached legendary proportions. He stood on the indoor terrace just outside his bedroom door looking over the crowd. He spotted Collette and a smile parted his thin lips revealing perfectly capped teeth. He headed downstairs.

Collette walked over to a portable bar. This was only her second time in Antoine's apartment and she was even more impressed than when she had visited it the first time. There were six bars, at least a dozen waiters and three buffet tables. The fact that Antoine had gone to so much trouble meant that Marshall was still a hot property. She eased up to the bar squeezing past three provocatively dressed women. The women giggled lot and exchanged lewd remarks with the muscular, handsome bartender. She took a good look at the man's light brown complexion, possibly six two, a hundred ninety pounds with a dazzling smile…perfect…for what she had in mind. He finally caught her eye and walked towards her, his thousand watt grin intact.

"Yes…can I get you something, Miss?"

Devastating, melodious baritone…definitely an out of work actor or singer.

"Excuse me, Miss, can I get you something?"

Collette looked away for a brief second realizing she had been too obvious in her appraisal. "Yes…how about some wine…something sweet, maybe with a cherry in it."

The man chuckled softly. "Well, I'm not sure you'll find too many cherries in here, but I'll see what I can do."

He had a slight southern drawl. She liked the accent and the way his tight buttocks filled out the black slacks he was wearing. He appeared to be a cocky rascal and she was not at all sure she liked him. She watched Antoine walking through the crowd, stopping occasionally to greet his guests. She looked for Ressie. The bartender came back. He placed a coaster and glass in front of her and began pouring a red liquid into the chilled glass.

"What's that?"

"It's a cherry liqueur…its called Visinata…take a sip…if its too sweet I can fix it."

Collette took a sip, it was delicious!

"Its fine…thank you."

The man turned and placed the bottle on a shelf. Collette continued staring at him. She decided she like everything about him physically, with the exception of the ponytail, somehow it did not seem to enhance his appearance.

"What's your name?"

Pretty boy's grin slipped into a lower register and he stared back at her with an amused expression on his face. His head cocked slightly to the side as though he was trying to figure her out. "Roy…Roy Gilliam…and yours, sweet thing?"

Collette placed a cigarette between her lips and leaned forward. Roy scrambled for a lighter from his shirt pocket and lit it. "My name is Collette, Roy…Mrs. Marshall Garnett."

The smile vanished completely.

"Oh...er…nice to meet you, Mrs. Garnett…you know I'm a great admirer of your husband's music…that's one of the reasons I hustled to get this job…I was hoping I could somehow meet him."

"Why…what are you, a singer?"

"Well, actually I'm an actor. I was doing something in a little Off-Broadway production that just closed recently…but I don't want anything from him…I'd just like to meet him…you know…like a fan."

Collette stared intently at the man. How could he be so foolish as to think she believed he did not want something from Marshall. Everyone wanted something from someone else, that was the way the world worked. In any event, it did not really matter.

"Excuse me…Roy…could you help us please?"

The three giggle sisters shot bitchy glances in Collette's direction as Roy went over to serve them. Several other people strolled over to the bar and the man was suddenly immersed in work. A slightly familiar looking man slid over to her.

"Hi luv…long time no see, how's married life?"

It took her a couple of seconds to place the man's face then suddenly the name that went with the face popped into her mind.

"Hi…Mickey…right? Mickey, how are you?

"OK luv, you're looking great…when the hell is MG going to get here?"

Collette hated to hear Marshall called by that name. MG…it sounded so juvenile. The only people who still called him that were really old friends of Marshall's, most of whom she disliked intensely. She had never forgotten the snide remarks made about her at the wedding. References about Marshall having robbed the cradle and her not being classy enough for a man of Marshall's stature. What should have been one of the happiest times of her life had almost been ruined by his so called old friends. She remembered this redheaded asshole in particular…who could forget the breath from hell!

"He should be here any minute now, Mickey…what have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know how it is in this business, luv, a little of this and a lot of that. I have been writing though. In fact, I just might have some songs that MG might be interested in."

Collette turned her head slightly to escape the full effect of Mickey's foul breath. Even the alcohol he had been drinking could not dilute the awful stench. Mickey tossed his heavily greased, red hair and moved closer to her. He dumped the last of a drink he had been holding and looked around. When he spoke, his voice took on a hushed quality, as though he was about to reveal something confidential. He smiled. Collette had never realized that living, healthy people could possess teeth that color.

"Look luv…I'm going to confide something to you…well, I guess there's no other way to say it but to come right out with it! Right luv?"

Collette was more curious than sympathetic.

"Well you see its like this…I'm broke…I filed for bankruptcy two weeks ago and I thought…you know I was at your wedding and all…I mean we…me, you and MG…us being friends and such…I…thought that you might mention my situation to MG! I don't want a handout you understand. I just thought that maybe he would be interested in some songs I wrote."

Collette was aghast. Mickey Love was a transplanted Brit who just three years ago had two top ten hits on the charts. She had heard the rumors about his heroin use. In spite of that, she could not reconcile herself to the fact that it had come to this…and so soon.

"Well, I don't know what to say, Mickey… I mean, I'll certainly mention it to him if you like…but I don't understand, why can't you talk to Marshall yourself?"

"Yeah, I can understand your feeling that way…but when you've been on top like I have, luv…its not that simple…like I said, I don't want a handout from MG just a helping hand so to speak. I would really appreciate it if you'd mention my situation to him…but don't say you heard it from me."

"What should I say…I mean, how would I know?"

"Listen, just say you heard it through the grapevine so to speak…you know, here at the party...if I know MG, he'll look into it and everything will be fine."

Mickey suddenly became distracted and ill at ease. He ordered a bourbon and water from Roy, then blanched an awkward goodbye. Collette felt very sad for him as she watched him disappear into the crowd.

"Will there be anything else, Mrs. Garnett?" Collette looked over at Roy.

"As a matter of fact, there are a couple of things, Roy. First of all you can get me another one of these…this cherry thing, and then I have a couple of questions."

The smirk on his face as he picked up her glass indicated to her that he thought he was on to something. She enjoyed that. She also liked surprising people.

Victoria Meyers, a late night TV horror show hostess and a star with a small "s", walked by and pinched Collette on the behind. Both women blew each other the phony Hollywood kiss and smiled. Victoria was not a bad person. It was just that she was one of those people who had managed to become famous with no talent. She wore far too much makeup and could easily afford to lose a pound of silicone from each of her gigantic breasts. Her rumored ability at deep throating had made men from coast to coast forget who the hell Linda Lovelace was. Collette liked her and considered her a friend.

"Here you go, Mrs. Garnett!."

Collette was tempted to tell Roy to drop the Mrs. Garnett bit, then decided against it. She wanted him to be on the defensive. She pushed the drink to the side. Roy looked perplexed.

"Are you married, Roy?"

"No!"

"Are you seriously involved or into anything that would stop you from…let's say taking on a project that could make you some money?"

Roy began drying glasses and looking nervously around the crowded room. It was obvious to him the woman was up to something…but what?

"Just what would I have to do for this money?"

"Oh nothing dangerous…or even illegal. Let's just say I would like you to be at a certain place for…maybe three hours tops!"

"Just be at a certain place for three hours?"

"Right!"

Roy's giggle was unnatural and high pitched.

"Lady…you're crazy… I couldn't do something weird like that unless I knew what I was getting into."

"I'll give you my private home telephone number and a special introduction to my husband…plus five hundred dollars payable up front…Now does that sound like I'm trying to set you up for something?"

Roy smoothed back his hair and tugged at his ponytail. The woman was serious. He thought she was nuts…but five hundred dollars up front…he had to consider it… most of these rich motherfuckers were crazy anyway.

"OK…I'm down…what do I have to do?"

Collette reached into her bag and pulled out five crisp one hundred dollar bills. She also retrieved a hotel room key card which she placed on top of the money. She slid the items across the bar. "I assume you know where the Sherry Netherlands is?"

"Yeah…of course!"

"Be there at 4:00 a.m. Take this card and let yourself into the room and wait. The room number is on the card."

"Er…OK…I mean, what do I do when I get there, Mrs. Garnett. I…this is crazy."

Collette smiled and was about to respond when she heard a commotion near the front door. She turned and looked. Marshall Garnett had just arrived.

"Look, you just do what's natural, Roy…you'll understand when you get there."

Collette turned and started to move away.

"Hey…how do you know I just won't take your money and not show up!"

"You won't do that, Roy…you have to realize that I'm not without influence in this city!"

The woman's pretty face hardened, she was dead serious. He would be stupid to pass up this opportunity anyway.

"Oh, I was just kidding…I agreed to it and I took your money. I'll be there."

"Good Roy…call me the day after tomorrow after eight."

The woman walked across the thinning room. She had a beautiful figure and radiated raw sex appeal. His mind began to wonder, could this meeting be with her…no…that would be too good to be true. In any event, he was going to play her little game.

Collette stopped in mid stride and turned back to Roy. "By the way…I forgot to ask you something."

"Yeah…"

"Are you gay?"

Roy laughed. The woman was unbelievable. "No, Mrs. Garnett, I'm not gay…do you need proof?"

Collette eyed the man closely, then turned and walked away.

Marshall looked over the room. It was a great turnout. He worked the room, shaking hands and slapping backs. It was not difficult, all entertainers did the same thing. It was simply part of the business. He was quickly enveloped by a group of drunken well wishers. Countless hands fondled him and he was smothered by dozens of lipstick tainted kisses. He suffered in silent contempt. He knew as well as they at that the first drop in the sales of his CDs or any sign of slippage in his career, and half the sons of bitches there would not even return his phone calls. It happened many times before. He did not hold it against them, he understood that his was a business of insecure neurotics, himself included! He caught a glimpse of Antoine maneuvering artfully through the crowd. The man's embrace was powerful yet controlled. He pulled back and looked into Marshall's eyes.

"Great show Marsh…the whole fucking production was just great…Jesus Christ…fourteen years in the business and you're still the best! I love you man!"

Antoine had a way of making Marshall feel as though he was some prized race horse that always managed to come in first. "Yeah…thanks Antoine…look man, do you think I could get a drink?"

Collette grabbed him from behind and began planting moist kisses on his neck and ear. He turned and kissed her hard and passionately. The touch and feel of his wife gave him an instant erection and a feeling of security.

"How you doing baby…you enjoying the party?"

"Now I am…now that you're here…these people only put up with me because of you."

"Girl, how many times have I told you to stop worrying about that bullshit…you're my woman and I'm happy with you…and that's all that really matters…right?"

Collette's smiled. "OK hon…I guess I'm just tripping being around all these famous people."

"Excuse me love birds…here's a drink for the man of the hour."

Marshall took the glass of clear liquid and took a sip. Just as he thought…wine! He hated wine. He grimaced and stared at Antoine.

"Come on Antoine…you know I can't drink this shit…man, I need a drink…a real drink!"

Antoine laughed. "Man, that's Cristal! Do you know how many cases of that shit I bought? Somebody's got to drink it."

Collette took the glass from Marshall. "I'll take you off the hook, Antoine, I'll drink it."

"Thank you, sweet lady…maybe I can do you a favor someday, in the meantime I'm eternally in your debt."

Marshall was not entirely sure he liked the way Antoine looked at Collette. He knew how big a freak the man was and they had passed many women between them, but this time around it was love and he had no intention of sharing Collette. He decided he had better make that fact clear to Antoine as soon as possible.

"Hi Marshall." Ressie held out her hand. Marshall took the woman's hand and drew her towards him. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Hey baby…its good to see you again."

Ressie beamed. That was one of the things about being a celebrity that Marshall truly appreciated. It was so easy to make people happy. An insignificant peck on the cheek that meant nothing to him had sent her into orbit. Collette introduced Ressie to Antoine. "Listen ladies…I hate to break this up but MG and I have some business to discuss…if you will excuse us for a few minutes I promise I won't keep him long."

Marshall never felt comfortable in Antoine's study, in spite of the expensive, cherry wood paneling and panoramic view of the east side. There was an odiousness about the place as though too many rotten and corrupt deals had left a permanent negative aura in the room. Marshall poured himself a generous helping of Hennessy and was searching the wet bar for a coke as Antoine talked.

"MG, you will not believe the deal I've worked out for you."

Marshall glanced back over his shoulder at Antoine, the inflection in the man's voice alerted him to the fact that he was about to hear something he knew he would not like. People were so damned predictable. Marshall plopped down into a wicker chair.

"I'm so excited about this fucking hookup I can hardly contain myself."

Yeah right, Marshall thought to himself.

"Now first of all…its worth five million…gross of course…for at the most six weeks work. It took a lot of arm twisting and a little ass kissing, but I pulled it off! The company lawyers have to iron out a few details, but I'm telling you it's a done deal! The only downside is you're going to have to put off the honeymoon trip you and Collette had been planning…but hell, MG, think of the money, five mil…for a few weeks…all its going to involve is a little TV and a few spots at some of the top European clubs."

Marshall was wary, it was too easy. He considered it for a moment. "Six weeks at the most, huh?"

"At the most big guy!"

"A solo gig?"

Antoine's smiled slipped.

"Well…no…er…you'll be touring with another act…but what the fuck, MG…its only six weeks."

Marshall took a deep gulp of his drink. He was almost certain he was not going to like what was coming next.

"What act, Antoine?"

"Mad Dog Night!"

Marshall sat up in his chair.

"Mad Dog Night…those crazy ass punk rock motherfuckers?"

"They're not punk, MG…they're heavy metal."

Marshall conjured up a vision of screaming long haired, white boys and deafening music. They were in the papers every week for trashing some hotel or causing a riot at one of their concerts. Antoine had to be insane if he thought he would tour with those nutty bastards.

"Antoine…you've got to be kidding…ain't no fucking way…I mean, we don't even appeal to the same type of fans…my audience will never go for some heavy metal band opening for me…shit, a tour like that could ruin me…hell no, I can't do that for any amount of money!"

Antoine's face tightened. Somehow he managed to hold his smile in place. He walked around the desk and stood in front of Marshall. "MG…it's a done deal, there is no way I can go back on this!" Marshall downed his drink in one gulp and stood facing the man. He was angry. He was also sick and tired of all the music business leeches who exploited him under the guise of friendship while he wound up doing all the work and they took a lion's share of the profits.

"MG…look I realize I should have consulted you before I went ahead with this…but…you know, like I said…I can't get out of this, you gotta do this one thing for me…what the fuck guy, I already spent the three hundred thousand advance."

Antoine walked over to the large windows and stared out over the snow covered New York landscape. It was the first time that Marshall had ever seen him so jittery. It could only mean one thing. He was in financial trouble. Well fuck him! He was tired of the whole scene and he needed a break.

"Look Antoine…I may as well give it to you straight…I'm burned out and I'm taking at least a year off. I've been married six months now and me and my lady haven't had a honeymoon. I just can't do it man…if you can put it off for a year or so maybe we can work it out, but that's the best I can do."

Antoine turned slowly and faced Marshall. He did not say a word. His face showed no emotion, but in that moment Marshall knew he made an enemy!

"Look…I'm sorry, man…I'll be talking to you, alright?"

Silence…Marshall understood the significance of what was happening. The friendship between the two men could never be the same. If this was the end, then so be it. He turned and left the room. He rejoined the party and stayed until after four a.m. before gathering up a frustrated Collette and perplexed Ressie. He made the most diplomatic exit he could under the circumstances. They stopped in a lovely French coffee house for over an hour before heading for the hotel.

Ressie bided Marshall and Collette a woozy, wine induced goodnight. She exited the elevator on the tenth floor, and they continued up to the penthouse suite. She vaguely wondered what Collette had meant when she said she hoped Ressie enjoyed the special present she had arranged for her. Collette had always been a wicked practical joker. Ressie just hoped that whatever it was it did not keep her up. She was dead tired. She opened the door to her room and peeked inside. She hit the light switch near the door and almost tripped over her luggage parked near a huge, striped oversized sofa. The room was magnificent, but they were staying at the Sherry Netherlands…she had not expected anything less. She plopped down on the sofa and kicked off her heels before singing aloud and stretching her body out. She took off her earrings and was in the process of pulling down her dress to pull off her pantyhose when she heard a noise coming from what she assumed was the bedroom. Ressie jumped to her feet, immediately snatching up her handbag as she sprinted towards the door. She placed her hand on the door and was about to open it when she remembered Collette's words. She smiled and walked briskly to the bedroom door. She hesitated only a second before pushing the door open and walking into the room.

She understood what was happening immediately. She recognized the man as the bartender from Michael's party…lying on her hotel bed clad only in tiger striped bikini briefs. What was surprising was the fact that he was sound asleep. She quickly scanned the room taking in the champagne bucket, appropriately filled with ice and a bottle. A CD player in a far corner of the room played softly. Ressie walked quietly to a chair near the bed and sat down in a useless attempt to gather herself. Collette had played many jokes on her during their long friendship but nothing even remotely approaching this magnitude. What was she to do? The only rational thing would be to wake the man and throw him out, then call Collette and give her the reading of her life. She took a closer look, staring at the handsome chiseled face and the broad, well developed hairy chest and washboard stomach. The tiger striped briefs were as full as any man could want as his well developed genitals stretched the materials to its maximum potential. The fantastic torso was supported by well developed muscular legs. He was almost perfect.

The man stirred and stretched, leaning over to pick up his unfinished glass of champagne. He had not yet noticed Ressie. He finished the drink in one gulp and headed for what appeared to be the bathroom when the phone rang. He turned then jumped involuntarily when he spotted the woman! The telephone rang at least seven times before Ressie answered it. She knew who was on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey girlfriend…I expected you to have called me before now…I knew you would like my little present, but I didn't think you would like it that much!"

Ressie had to wait several seconds before she could respond to Collette. The woman was convulsed by laughter.

"You bitch…Collette of all the crazy stunts you've pulled, this has got to be the wildest…have you gone completely crazy?" Ressie looked up, the man had disappeared.

"Oh lighten up girl, he's a nice guy…have you two gotten acquainted yet?" I mean you did take the time to find out his name before you jumped in bed with him, didn't you?

More laughter.

"Collie…this was a crazy thing to do…I mean that man could be dangerous…how could you put me in a situation like this?"

"Aw he's all right, I checked him out before we left the party."

"The party?"

"Yes, the party… he was the finest bartender they had there…don't you recognize him?…I knew you'd like him…at least physically anyway…that's why I hired him."

"Hired him…what is he, a male prostitute?"

"No silly ass…he's one of those struggling actors that seem to make up half the male population in New York…don't worry about anything, he's safe. He wouldn't do anything to mess up his chance to get the inside track with Marshall…just relax and have fun."

"Collie…what do you mean relax and have fun…with a male prostitute?"

The man returned from the bathroom and walked over to a chair to retrieve his pants. They made a soft whistling noise as he slipped them on. He did not look at Ressie as he walked out of the room.

"Listen Ressie, the guy is safe. If I thought for one moment that he wasn't, I'd have never hooked this thing up…give him a chance."

"Collie, have you ever heard of AIDS? I mean I just can't be sleeping around with some guy you picked up for me…this shit is crazy!"

"Have you ever heard of condoms, girlfriend?…Listen, just relax and try to have some fun OK…call me in the morning?"

The line went dead. Ressie hung up the receiver and sat back heavily into her chair. She still had no idea of what she should do about her situation.

"Er…excuse me!"

The man stuck his head around the door.

"Yes…you might as well come in!"

"I just want to get my stuff…you know the rest of my clothes." He sat on the edge of the bed and began putting on his socks and shoes. He sat with his back to Ressie, who began to feel more awkward with every passing second.

Ressie stared at the man's broad back and she suddenly felt sorry for him. She did not completely understand why she felt sorry...after all, he was the one who allowed himself to be hired out like some stud horse...but she did.

"Look…"

She giggled. "I'm sorry, I don't even know your name."

"Roy… Roy Gilliam…and you don't have to be sorry…maybe you need to check out your friend's sense of humor and put her in check, but you don't have to feel sorry."

"Oh Collette's OK, she meant well…she's just a dizzy bitch sometimes."

She assumed the derisive snort that came from the man to be a self-conscious attempt at humor.

"You know, Collette and I have been friends for a long time…I guess she assumed that I wasn't getting enough…and was just trying to help out in her own twisted little way."

Roy stood and put on his shirt, taking in the woman as he tucked it into his pants. Five foot six tops, maybe a hundred forty-five pounds…very pretty face. Not bad at all actually. He liked a woman with some meat on her bones. She did not appear to have any problems with her self esteem either.

Ressie stared up at the man for a brief second before wilting under the intensity of his gaze. She felt as thought she needed a shower. She also felt a need to say something, anything to break the awkward silence that had suddenly filled the room.

"Well, like I said…Collette meant well. I think its just that she feels she can do anything…you know since she married Marshall…what is that term, flexing? Yes, that's it…she's just trying out her new found power."

The man shot her a quick glance as he checked his pockets. He pulled out some bills and handed them toward her. His shirt was unbuttoned down to his navel. Ressie did not move her eyes from his well developed chest.

"What's that?"

"The five hundred dollars I was paid to degrade myself…take it and give it back to your friend…tell her I said no sale…oh and tell her I won't be bothering her husband either…I don't think I need help with my career that bad."

He dropped the bills onto the bed and turned toward the door. Ressie leaped to her feet.

"Don't go…!"

The man looked at her. She had expected a puzzled expression, anything but the accompanying leer that gazed back at her. She was more confused than ever and suddenly very aroused!

"Look lady, I've put in a full night and I'm kind of tired…I just ain't up to playing no rich folks games."

"I'm not rich, Roy…I'm a working girl."

"Yeah…I can understand that and I ain't trying to put you down or nothing…its just that I've been working for rich folks for so long and putting up with their bullshit…I don't know, maybe I'm frustrated or something you know?"

"Rich people are like everyone else, Roy…some are good and some are bad…they are…"

"No…no, you're wrong…"

"Ressie, my name is Ressie."

"Ressie…right…you're wrong about rich folks, Ressie, they're not like everybody else except maybe another rich person. I've been around them for eight years now…you know, working for them in some capacity or another and I can tell you they are not like the average working Joe. Its like money gives them more confidence, which easily slides into a kind of arrogance. Before you know it, they come to believe that if you don't have money like they do…you're an inferior being or lazy…you know, fucked up in some way."

"Don't be bitter about someone else's good fortune, Roy...someday you'll get yours, if that's what you want...as for me, I don't think I could take a million dollars if someone gave it to me...money doesn't necessarily bring happiness, you know?"

Roy looked at her as though she had suddenly grown two heads.

"Look, I'm going to take a quick shower…why don't you see what room service is like in this joint and we can finish off that bottle of champagne…no strings attached…oh and of course you can keep the money."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know, maybe I'm lonely…maybe I'm beginning to like you…why don't we find out…after all it would be a shame to waste my girlfriend's money."

He had a crooked grin. It made him appear sexy and vulnerable at the same time.

"OK, Ressie…know what? Maybe I'm beginning to like you too!"

The water felt deliciously warm as it cascaded down her body and swelled around her painted toenails. She was considering whether she had stayed in the shower too long when she heard the curtain slide softly aside. She did not turn around. One part of her had wanted Roy to join her in the shower and another part of her branded her a whore for desiring it. Her mind raced wildly, conjuring up erotic and dangerous thoughts. She imagined he was some sort of maniac who was entering the shower with a knife to cut her to pieces. His huge hands reached around and cupped her ample breast with soap lathered hands. She felt a heady sensation as his firm, hairy chest pressed against her back and his quickly rising maleness jerked between her soft and willing buttocks. She began to grind herself back into him, slowly. He kneaded her fully erect nipples and kissed her softly on the nape of her neck. She began to moan like a small cornered animal.

"Wait…Roy…wait a minute…not here."

He yanked part of the shower curtain aside then reached down and forced her left foot onto the edge of the tub. The water made a weak bleating sound as it hit the bathroom floor. Ressie grabbed the towel rack to support herself. She felt her other leg go out from under her as the man supported her full weight on his muscular thighs. She was spread apart and helpless. The head of his manhood entered her slowly. She tried to resist, to squirm away…she only sunk deeper.

"Roy, please…it's been a long time since I've been with a man…take it easy please!"

He reached around and forced his lips onto hers, his long thick tongue finding its way down her throat preventing any further protest as he buried himself completely. He moved against her in that same timeless motion that Adam must have used on Eve. Suddenly, she lost it and surrendered totally. He bit her on the shoulder, drawing blood. She no longer cared. All that mattered was the sensation in her loins. He bit her back in small multiple bites, she hated it…she loved it…she no longer gave a damn!

Chapter Four