“God, no. He’s not gonna slip that
shit into one of my packages, is he? Because I do not feel like going down for that shit.”
Loren smiled and shook her head. “So, this is what happened. And you can’t say a word because Tony will get all mad and do something. The man is obviously insecure.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
Loren was trying not to laugh. “Oh, God. I called him the day after you freaked out on me, and I told him I wanted to see him.”
“You’re giving me chills. What happened?”
“I went in there wearing a bikini top and short shorts, and I slammed him up against the wall,” Loren said. “He was ready to come. Then I grabbed him by his scrawny, red neck and said that if he so much as looks at you wrong, that I will chop his dick off and feed it to him.”
“What’d he do?” I asked.
“He was trying to act all hard, saying that he and his homies were gonna come for me, and that I couldn’t talk to him like that. I just wrapped my hand around him as tight as I could, and he started to choke. By the time I let him down, he was on the ground crying, ‘Please don’t hurt me, yo.’”
“Oh my God,” I said. “I wish I could’ve seen that.”
“I almost put my phone on record so I could show you, but I didn’t want to have anything in my pockets. It would’ve ruined the whole outfit.”
“Is he gonna let you keep your job?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? Aside from food stamps and baby powder with flecks of coke in it, I’m his main source of income. The other girls just go one time, take the client, and run.” She took another puff of her cigarette and put it out. “Honestly, the only reason I’ve stuck by him is because I don’t have to sell myself.”
“I don’t like it. He creeps me out. I can’t even be in his presence without wanting to puke.” Part of me wondered if she was lying about not selling herself.
“I’m surprised he still has something between his legs. He tried to come on to this one chick, Stella. Her boobs were so big that they hardly ever fit properly in a bra.
“He came on to her so hard. The second he tried to whip it out, she slammed him to the ground, and he had a bruise covering his face for a week. He told everybody that he fucked the motherfucker up good, but we all knew.”
“I’ll bet he peed his pants,” I said.
“In the end, what matters is our money and your sanity. Are you happy?” She met my eyes.
“I am.” I didn’t like the way I felt when I said that. It was too good.
“I hope so. Don’t go too far. It’s good money, and it’s easy to get caught up in it. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
“It won’t.” It felt like a lie.
Chapter 19
Jake
“What is your projection on liquor sales in the Midwest?” Samantha asked.
I called Samantha the wasp but not because of her sting. She had bottle-blonde hair with a huge set and gigantic glasses that took up most of her cheeks. She wore the same pink skirt suit she wore to every meeting. Rumor had it she was so cheap, she hadn’t bought clothes since the ‘80s, which made perfect sense, considering the shoulder pads that stuck out at much as her hair did.
“I think that with the addition of our Irish coffees, we should see an increase in sales,” I said. “We’re also converting some of our nightclubs in the Chicago area into pubs with fireplaces, which I’m sure you’ve seen.” I sat at the head of the conference room while the other board members nodded out.
Samantha, however, was taking notes on a yellow pad. “I don’t see how that could get us the necessary 15 percent.”
“I don’t think 15 percent is necessary,” I said. “Our restaurant chains are killing in Detroit and Minneapolis.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think these pubs are a waste of money.”
“Please,” David, a washed-out alcoholic with a black combover, spoke up. “Do you really think people are going to go dancing when it’s 20 below? You can barely stand outside in that weather, much less wait in line. You’ll die from exposure.”