Journey To Fortune

“All just gossip, Roger. You know from experience that my brothers and I get the jobs done to perfection,” Mercury said.

“I’ve still heard some stories of close calls, and I’m waiting for merchandise to arrive in New York at the warehouse and it should have been there a week ago. I want to hire you again for something bigger, and on a private scale, not with the government, but I have concerns.”

Mercury squinted at Roger. He knew him well and knew what he was after. A fucking discounted price.

“I’m certain whatever it is, we can handle it and at a good price, too. In regards to the products, they’ll be delivered to the warehouse in New York. You know how difficult customs can be sometimes. Let me know when you want to get together to discuss details of another job.”

Roger nodded and then smiled as a tall blonde woman approached, looking both of them over and licking her lips.

“Who’s your friend, Roger?” she asked and placed her hand out for him to kiss. He hated women like this.

He gave a fake smile, not knowing what connection she had to Roger and he needed to play nice. For now, anyway.

“Michelle, this is Mercury James. A very good friend of mine. Mercury, Michelle Senoma, an actress and model. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go mingle with the other guests. We’ll talk Monday, Mercury,” Roger said and then left him with the blonde.

She began her routine of flirting and touching his arm. She wasn’t bad to look at, her body okay, but then she started talking.

“You’re an actress?” he asked and took a sip from his glass of Coke. He pretended it was rum and Coke to be social, but he never drank. He liked his head clear.

“Yes I am, and a model, too.”

“What have you done or been in? Any commercials, ads, television, movies?” he asked.

“Nothing yet. I’m trying to get my foot in the door,” she said and then pretended to fix the collar on his suit jacket. He squinted at her.

“I bet a man like you knows a lot of people.”

He rolled his eyes and looked past her shoulder at the bar and buffet table of food. He squinted and couldn’t believe it. Was that Pina’s friend Rose, the artist?

“I would do anything to get discovered.” The blonde continued to talk but Mercury’s eyes were on Rose, the brunette with the stunning green eyes. She looked different, thinner, and he saw her looking around as if to see if anyone was watching and then she took one of the hors d’oeuvres and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and seemed to enjoy it as if she were starving. His gut clenched when she took a napkin, wrapped a bunch of the hors d’oeuvres in it, and then placed it under the bar.

“So what do you think?” Michelle asked, but he hadn’t a clue as to what she was even saying. She rubbed her palm up his chest and he gripped her wrist, gave her the once over, and then pressed her away.

“I think you should go talk to Winston. You see that man over there with the purple tie?” he asked and pointed. She looked and nodded.

“He knows people who could help you,” Mercury told her and then watched Michelle wiggle her way to the overweight man who instantly ate her up with his eyes. Michelle spoke to him and then pointed to Mercury and Winston gave Mercury a wink and then tapped his thigh for the blonde to sit on. She did so immediately. Mercury shook his head and looked back toward Rose.

Why was she working here? He didn’t even know she did this type of work. She was a talented artist. Maybe things were tight.

He thought about the food she took and her complexion and how much thinner she was than months ago at the gala. He didn’t like the feeling he had and then wondered why the hell he even cared. Then he saw Michael Lawrence approach the bar, smiling wide. He owned an art gallery in Charlotte. Rose’s eyes went wide and then she fumbled while making the man his drink. Mercury continued to watch and once she made the drink Michael remained there talking to her. She smiled and nibbled her bottom lip and looked around. Then Michael reached his hand out to shake hers.

Mercury’s curiosity got the better of him as he approached the food table and listened in on the conversation.

“So you’re an artist, a painter?” Michael asked.