off?”
“You. Your act. Look at you. Fuckin’ Adonis in a
swimsuit, but you’re trying to act like some badass, eccentric
billionaire who talks weird. You got my attention. I’m here.
Cut the shit.”
Alex and Tristan shared a look. I waited. Tristan dragged the moment
out. Then abruptly said, “I've been trying to make that drink
you made last night but I can't get it right. Alex said it was your
private recipe so she wouldn't help. I've been dumping those same
four bottles in the blender but it's not working for me.”
“There you go. Much better.” It was, too. The atmosphere
in the room changed instantly. The house was a much nicer place
suddenly. Tristan was still a bad man, but now at least I could talk
to him without wondering why his demeanor didn’t fit in the
clothes he was wearing.
“What’s in the case?”
I avoided the question for the moment. “Where's all your
gorillas?”
“That was for show. Whole street's on camera. The guys are in
the first house on the row. Nobody comes down this street without
them or I knowing about it. Golf course, too. A rabbit moves out
there and my guys make sure it's a rabbit. If it's not, then they
come here. I couldn't hang with those guys in my space all the time.
“'Sides. I'm a middleman. Nobody fucks with me, because I have
too many people's interests in my hands. Somebody moves on me,
they're moving on a whole bunch of people that make my guys look like
toddler tykes.”
“Why the act?”
Tristan spread his arms wide, smiled, and said, “I’m
rich. Really rich. I get bored. I couldn't figure your angle. You
shake the tree and see what falls out.”
I fall out of trees.
“Look at it from my perspective. I get a call from one of my
restaurants. A guy has just beat the shit out of another guy. I got
enemies, same as everyone. They can‘t touch me, but they can
mess with me. Could be just a drunken brawl. Could be it’s hot
and a guy got irritable. Or, could be, somebody is trying to give me
a headache.
“Tacqueria is legit. I like sitting down at my computer,
opening up one of Ashley’s financial reports, and seeing that
my tiny Mexican restaurant made me some money. I don't need headaches
from my legit stuff. I got enough already.”
“You shouldn’t be a pimp then.”
He threw his head back in frustration with my apparent lack of
intelligence. “Alex, will you tell him? I’m not a pimp.”
“He’s not a pimp, Kelly.”
“See. There you go. Look at her. Do you really think that this
woman would work for a pimp? I think not.”
I thought not, as well. Still.
“Ashley?”
“Dude, you got so many questions. Ashley is Ashley. No harm no
foul. It's her gig not mine. She's smart, that girl. Does a lot of
accounting stuff for me.”
“OK, Jenna and Kristi?”
“Man, you gotta lighten up. Women dress like that to go out on
a Friday night. I can’t help that. Jenna is Jenna. She’s
hot. She does what she wants. Kristi is Kristi. You think I told her
to start masturbating while we were talking? That was her. She likes
to masturbate. She’s good at it.”
I couldn’t argue with that. She was.
“I got twelve more girls living in these houses just like Jenna
and Kristi. They’re not here as prisoners. They have jobs. They
work for me. But they’re not whores. Ask yourself this
question, ‘If you were rich, and you needed some people to do
things for you, would you hire homely, prudish girls? Or would you
hire girls like Jenna and Kristi?”
“I would hire the best qualified.”
Tristan laughed. Alex laughed.
“Right. Sure you would. OK, back to what I was saying about my
perspective. So I’ve got this unknown in you. We’re
sitting around doing nothing. I’m rich. I’m bored. I have
a twisted sense of humor. I have my guys pick you up. I put you in
the room with the five of us and see what happens. Never did I expect
you to be the way you were. Most guys who fit the generic description
of a guy who will beat the shit
“You. Your act. Look at you. Fuckin’ Adonis in a
swimsuit, but you’re trying to act like some badass, eccentric
billionaire who talks weird. You got my attention. I’m here.
Cut the shit.”
Alex and Tristan shared a look. I waited. Tristan dragged the moment
out. Then abruptly said, “I've been trying to make that drink
you made last night but I can't get it right. Alex said it was your
private recipe so she wouldn't help. I've been dumping those same
four bottles in the blender but it's not working for me.”
“There you go. Much better.” It was, too. The atmosphere
in the room changed instantly. The house was a much nicer place
suddenly. Tristan was still a bad man, but now at least I could talk
to him without wondering why his demeanor didn’t fit in the
clothes he was wearing.
“What’s in the case?”
I avoided the question for the moment. “Where's all your
gorillas?”
“That was for show. Whole street's on camera. The guys are in
the first house on the row. Nobody comes down this street without
them or I knowing about it. Golf course, too. A rabbit moves out
there and my guys make sure it's a rabbit. If it's not, then they
come here. I couldn't hang with those guys in my space all the time.
“'Sides. I'm a middleman. Nobody fucks with me, because I have
too many people's interests in my hands. Somebody moves on me,
they're moving on a whole bunch of people that make my guys look like
toddler tykes.”
“Why the act?”
Tristan spread his arms wide, smiled, and said, “I’m
rich. Really rich. I get bored. I couldn't figure your angle. You
shake the tree and see what falls out.”
I fall out of trees.
“Look at it from my perspective. I get a call from one of my
restaurants. A guy has just beat the shit out of another guy. I got
enemies, same as everyone. They can‘t touch me, but they can
mess with me. Could be just a drunken brawl. Could be it’s hot
and a guy got irritable. Or, could be, somebody is trying to give me
a headache.
“Tacqueria is legit. I like sitting down at my computer,
opening up one of Ashley’s financial reports, and seeing that
my tiny Mexican restaurant made me some money. I don't need headaches
from my legit stuff. I got enough already.”
“You shouldn’t be a pimp then.”
He threw his head back in frustration with my apparent lack of
intelligence. “Alex, will you tell him? I’m not a pimp.”
“He’s not a pimp, Kelly.”
“See. There you go. Look at her. Do you really think that this
woman would work for a pimp? I think not.”
I thought not, as well. Still.
“Ashley?”
“Dude, you got so many questions. Ashley is Ashley. No harm no
foul. It's her gig not mine. She's smart, that girl. Does a lot of
accounting stuff for me.”
“OK, Jenna and Kristi?”
“Man, you gotta lighten up. Women dress like that to go out on
a Friday night. I can’t help that. Jenna is Jenna. She’s
hot. She does what she wants. Kristi is Kristi. You think I told her
to start masturbating while we were talking? That was her. She likes
to masturbate. She’s good at it.”
I couldn’t argue with that. She was.
“I got twelve more girls living in these houses just like Jenna
and Kristi. They’re not here as prisoners. They have jobs. They
work for me. But they’re not whores. Ask yourself this
question, ‘If you were rich, and you needed some people to do
things for you, would you hire homely, prudish girls? Or would you
hire girls like Jenna and Kristi?”
“I would hire the best qualified.”
Tristan laughed. Alex laughed.
“Right. Sure you would. OK, back to what I was saying about my
perspective. So I’ve got this unknown in you. We’re
sitting around doing nothing. I’m rich. I’m bored. I have
a twisted sense of humor. I have my guys pick you up. I put you in
the room with the five of us and see what happens. Never did I expect
you to be the way you were. Most guys who fit the generic description
of a guy who will beat the shit
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