The women were brown-haired, and he preferred blondes, but their full figures were very choice. The daughter’s in particular, with its rounded buttocks and narrow waist. She was complaining about her thighs as she twirled in the skinny-girl dress.
Gozan wondered how hard it would be to close the deal. He eased into a conversation with the mother, telling her that he was in the diplomatic corps and that he and his friend were on holiday.
Gozan’s subtle accent and the cut of his clothes made a good impression, and soon this lady was telling him that her name was Susan, she was going through a divorce, and she lived in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
She said that her daughter, Serena, was in law school and would be graduating next year. This trip to LA was a birthday present to her.
During the conversation, Khezir came over a few times to get Gozan’s opinion of the various jackets in combination with shirts and ties. But now, Khezzy was flirting with Brian, and the flirtation wasn’t lost on the women.
When Khezir returned to the men’s section, Gozan said, “Susan, it would give me pleasure to take you and Serena out to dinner tonight. A birthday celebration. Khezzy and I are here on business and he is very homesick for good conversation.”
Susan said, “Oh, we shouldn’t. We have an early flight tomorrow and should really pack and get to bed.”
r /> “I understand,” Gozan said, looking very disappointed. “I understand that you don’t know us. We could be very boring dinner companions.”
“No, no, I’m not saying that,” said Susan.
“Good. Let’s have an early dinner,” Gozan said. “I’ll find the best restaurant within ten minutes’ drive of your hotel. If we pick you up at seven, you will be back in your room by nine thirty. Khezir is a very funny man. You will be glad you had a chance to meet one of the outstanding young heroes of Sumar.”
The daughter said, “Please, Mom. It would be fun.”
At that moment, a salesgirl said to Serena, “Let me take these for you.” The three women went to the desk, and Gozan joined them.
When the purchases were tucked in tissue and bagged in black, Gozan called to his nephew, “Khezzy, please help these ladies put the shopping bags in their car.”
Chapter 31
KHEZIR HAD BEEN trying on a jacket, and he said to the salesman, “Brian, wait just a moment, won’t you? I’ll only be a minute.”
Brian said, “Absolutely. I have some shoes I want to show you, Mr. Mazul. You will just die.”
Gozan held the door open for Susan and Serena, then he and Khezir followed the ladies out to their rented BMW that was parked across the street. Khezir, still wearing the three-thousand-dollar lavender-silk jacket, went to the rear of the car, and when the trunk was opened, he put the bags inside.
Gozan opened the driver’s-side door for Susan and said, “You can trust me on the choice of restaurants, Susan. I have researched the best of the best and I have some good ideas already.”
Khezir said to Serena, “I am eager to be celebrating your birthday with you, young lady.”
The girl tittered nervously, likely thinking what a shame it was that Khezir was gay. He stood on the street with Gozan and waved good-bye to the females as they drove up Rodeo toward Wilshire. Then the two men proceeded to the Bentley at the curb.
Gozan ripped up the parking ticket and said in Sumarin, “This place is starting to stink.”
Khezzy grinned and waved toward the black glass of the storefront. He was turning toward the Bentley when he felt a touch on his arm. He jerked around and saw the young salesman called Brian standing on the sidewalk, his mouth quivering and his eyes frightened.
“Mr. Mazul. Would you like me to ring up that jacket for you? Or will you want to see some other things I’ve put aside for you?”
“I want you to kiss your ass,” said Khezir. “No joking, I really want to see you do that.”
“You can’t do this, Mr. Mazul. Please don’t do this.”
Brian reached out again for the sleeve of the shimmering jacket, and Khezir knocked Brian’s arm away. Brian had just enough time to look surprised as Khezir let fly with a blow to Brian’s gut, followed quickly with a kick to the thigh.
Brian expelled air, then sucked it in and screamed before he took a chop to the back of his neck and dropped to the ground, squirming in agony.
“You have the keys, Gozan?” Khezir asked.
Gozan held them up and waggled them.
The two men were inside the Bentley when three more boys ran out of the store; two fell to the ground to attend to Brian, while the third raised his phone and shouted, “I have your license plate. I’m on the phone with the police. Give me that jacket, and maybe we won’t press charges.”