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“You can count it. But it’s all there. Don’t worry, I’m a decent guy.”
Lauren smiled awkwardly, tucked the cash into her Kate Spade bag, and left it by the TV.
Ken offered her the wing chair near the window, and she took it, gratefully accepting the glass of Dom. The champagne bubbled its way down her throat, damping her anxiety.
“Do me a favor,” Ken was saying. “Put your feet flat on the floor. Shake your head a little, like the wind is blowing through your hair. The way the beautiful models do it.”
“Like this?”
“Excellent. That’s great. And you can relax, Lauren. I want you to have fun tonight.”
She was kind of relaxed, feeling warm in the expensive room with the velvet curtains. In the distance, the bridge was lit up and framed like a picture in the window.
Ken was very nice. Not rushing her or acting crude. He took the bottle from the ice bucket beside her, topped off her glass.
She said, “I’ll tell you a secret, Ken. This is my first time doing this.”
“Well, I’m honored,” he said. “I can see that you’re a real sweet girl. Hey, I’d like your opinion about something.”
He crossed the room and took some brochures out of his coat pocket. Offered them to her.
“I’m thinking of getting a new car. Which one do you like best? Porsche, BMW, Mercedes?”
Lauren was studying the glossy fliers, getting herself into the right mood, when she heard the door open from the adjoining room.
Her heart jumped as a really big guy with blondish hair came through the door as if he had every right to be there.
She shot an alarmed, questioning look at Ken.
“I was just going to tell you,” said Ken. “This is my friend Louie.”
Chapter 78
THE CAR FLIERS FELL from Lauren’s hand, scattering around her gold shoes. Suddenly, she felt cold all over, her stomach dropping as if she were inside an elevator car and the cable had just snapped.
She gaped at Louie—broad, muscular, in khakis and a pink polo shirt. He looked like a jock, but older, maybe a coach.
He gave Lauren a look, like “wow-ee.” Swiveled his head and looked at her again.
“Listen,” Lauren said. She felt queasy as she rose quickly out of the chair. She gauged the distance to the door. “I didn’t agree to a, a . . . threesome. That’s definitely not okay with me.”
“Don’t worry,” Ken said, holding up his hands, showing her his palms. “Louie is—a great guy. Look, Lauren, everything’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about. Your service wouldn’t send you if there was.”
“I’ve made a mistake,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “No offense, guys. I’m not like this. This really isn’t me —”
“Louie,” Ken said, turning away from her, “say hello, willya?”
The big man crossed the room, stuck out his large hand. His eyes were soft and shy.
“Lauren? Nice to meet you. I’m Louie.”
She kept her hand at her side, blinking into his face, imagining how she was going to paste on a smile, say she had to go to the bathroom, casually pick up her purse. Take out the thousand dollars. Put it on the TV . . . and blow the hell out of here.
“Louie, why don’t you show Lauren—you know.”
It seemed to Lauren that time had slowed. She felt for the chair, steadied herself as Louie opened the closet door. The closet door?
“He has a heart of gold,” Ken was saying quietly, so that Louie couldn’t hear. “He hasn’t been with a woman since his girlfriend dumped him last year. Such a decent person,” said Ken. “I’d trust him with my life.”
