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65
Lou
It was shapin’ up to be a boring night at the Veils. Hell, with Jack out of my way and everything coming up roses, it was almost fucking boring these days. No more planning, no more scheming, no more excitement.
‘Be careful what you wish for’ – isn’t that what they say?
I was sitting in my office smoking a stogie when my cell phone rang. On the screen was a name I hadn’t seen in forever.
“Sloane,” I grinned. “What’s shakin’, Sugar Tits?”
“A whole lot more than usual, Lou. I got the girls done – you should see ‘em.”
“I’d love to.”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna get the chance, cuz I’m gonna be in town in about four hours.”
“Really,” I said, my internal alarms going off. I liked Sloane, but I knew she still carried a bit of a torch for Jack. Yeah, she’d left him because he’d turned into a pussy do-gooder, but still. Sloane was one smart bitch. I never trusted her further than I could throw her, and considering what had happened the last couple of weeks, there was no fuckin’ way I was trusting her now. “What’s goin’ on?”
“We gotta talk, Lou,” she said. “The shit’s gonna hit the fan, and I’m sellin’ umbrellas.”
“Well come on down,” I said with a puff on my cigar. “I’m always in the market for a good umbrella.”
66
She showed up as advertised four hours later, a couple hours shy of closing time. Peanut knocked on the door, then held it open wide for her.
Holy shit – she was like a biker’s wet dream.
“Lou,” she said with a big smile as she walked on in.
“God damn, Sloane,” I said as I hugged her. “I might just have to hire you as a dancer.”
She laughed. “You can’t afford me, Lou.”
“Probably right. Let me look at you – shit, darlin’, you’re lookin’ good.”
“And you’re lookin’ handsome as always, you silver-tongued devil,” she said in that Southern drawl that always drove me wild. The face and body drove me even wilder.
But she hadn’t just come here on a social call. I was playing along, yeah, but I kept that fact first and foremost in my mind.
“How’s Tyler?”
“Tyler’s just fine – but I didn’t come to talk about him.”
Okay, so we were getting down to it.
“Sit down,” I said, gesturing to the chair opposite my desk. “Want a drink?”
“Why the fuck not, wash the dust out of my mouth.”
“It’s a long way to come from Phoenix,” I said as I poured us two glasses of scotch. “How’d the hell you make it in four hours?”
“Cuz I didn’t come from Phoenix, I came from Joshua Tree,” she said. “And guess who I was meetin’ there.”
I handed her a glass. “I hope it wasn’t who I think it was.”
“Like my momma said, ‘Hope in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.” She clinked her glass against mine before taking a sip. “Mm, that’s gooood, Lou.”
