Part 3 (1/2)
”It does here,” she told him. ”Complete with drunks and flas.h.i.+ng. Kind of like a green Mardi Gras.”
The frat guys spotted them. ”Show me your b.o.o.bies,” one guy with a tall fake-fur covered green leprechaun hat yelled. ”I've got some beads for you right here.” The guy lurched as he grabbed his crotch and then almost collapsed with drunken laughter. One of his cohorts caught him before leprechaun guy hit the ground. His friends propped him back up. The group whooped with delight.
”Charming,” Mo grumbled as she continued walking. ”Why don't you flash them, Dagger. I'm sure they'd enjoy seeing a celebrity chest, even if it is male.”
Gritting his teeth Ross kept silent until they reached the entrance to the hotel. Before going in, he halted. ”I insist you stop following me.”
”And I insist I'm not following you,” she retorted. ”I happen to have business in this hotel. So there.” To prove her point, Mo stalked in front of him before pus.h.i.+ng through the revolving door.
As Ross entered, Mo rushed toward the hotel bar.
Afraid she'd missed her honey trap a.s.signment, Mo sighed with relief when she spotted her quarry: Vernon Blitner. He sat at a table opposite another man in the corner of the bar. Scanning the dim interior and the rest of the patrons, she spotted Clarence-receptionist and occasional agency operative-sitting a few steps away at the long mahogany bar. He stood as she approached.
”Can I buy you a drink?” Clarence asked in a loud voice. Then he whispered, ”Where have you been? I thought you'd never get here.” A smile remained plastered to his face.
”No, thank you. I don't care for a drink,” Mo said for the benefit of the patrons. ”What the jalapeno were you thinking of sending me to break into some celebrity's car?” she asked in a furious whisper.
”What did you find?”
”Nothing. He caught me.”
Clarence's eyes widened and his mouth gaped open for a few seconds before he said, ”How could you let that happen?”
”I didn't have any equipment with me since I was coming here to meet you when you called.”
Just then Ross Grant entered the bar and cast a glare at Mo as he walked past her.
”Speaking of the deviled egg,” Mo said, nodding in Ross's direction.
”Umm. Yeah.” Clarence turned away.
Ross stopped at a table a few feet away to speak to a slightly rotund bearded man with white hair. Dressed in a polo s.h.i.+rt and plaid pants, the man resembled Santa Clause in golf course attire.
Mo recognized the man as Anderson Nicodemus, a local with some notoriety. Nicodemus maintained a seat on the city council and ran a corporate empire, which included an amus.e.m.e.nt park with a Christian theme. In addition, Nicodemus had made a name for himself as investor and executive producer of a number of well-respected films. The two men shook hands before Ross sat down.
”Let's get this done and get out of here.” Clarence pulled a small camera from his blazer pocket.
Mo nodded and sauntered to the other end of the bar, closer to Vernon. He resembled the photo his wife had provided. Vernon was a middle-aged doughboy with numerous gold chains around his neck, providing a kind of picture frame for his chins rolls.
Sliding onto a bar stool, Mo directed an innocent smile toward Vernon who immediately turned to the man at his side.
”The hot chick wants me. Gotta go,” he said as he jumped from his chair. Vernon picked up his drink and a black pouch from the table in front of him, before hurrying to her side.
”Can I buy you a drink?” Vernon offered with a smile and a small burst of halitosis. He placed his gla.s.s and the pouch on the bar. ”I can afford whatever you want.” He signaled the bartender with his hand.
”Sure.” Will power alone kept her from leaning away from his breath. ”I'll have red wine.”
The bartender nodded acknowledgement of the order and turned away.
”My name is V-man. It's only fair to warn you I'm a playa.”
The bartender brought a goblet-style gla.s.s. Mo took it by the stem and sipped. Fortification. Before she could set the gla.s.s down, Vernon gripped her arm and pulled her to him. Dribbles of red liquid sloshed over the gla.s.s's edge and beaded on the back of her hand.
”Let's cut through all the preliminaries,” Vernon said. ”Let's go back to your place for a little somethin', somethin'.
Pulling away, she cleared her throat. ”Sorry, V-man. I have a roommate.”
”We could get a hotel room.” He leaned in. ”That's one reason I come here. Easy on and off ramp.” He laughed.
”Yeah. Funny.” She pointed to the pouch on the bar. ”What's in that?”
His blush was obvious even in the dim bar light. Now she had to know what he hid in there.
”It's my supply of condoms,” he finally offered.
Yuck. The mental picture his statement created needed an acid wash to get rid off. Mo forced herself to touch the tip of her finger to his plump arm and circle lightly. ”It's not really condoms, is it? You can tell me.” She hoped her expression was flirtatious instead of nauseated. ”I'm sure a stud like you probably does need a large supply but-”
”I don't know.” He shook his head, a slight pout on his lips. ”Every time a woman finds out, she's turned off.”
Clarence gave her a thumbs-up from the corner, indicating that he had a photo. He glanced at his digital camera screen. His next hand motion told Mo the photo wasn't incriminating enough. Sweet maple syrup, she had to keep romancing this guy.
”I don't believe that for a second,” Mo cooed. ”You couldn't turn a woman off.” She batted her eyelashes at him and leaned closer until the side of her breast brushed his arm.
V-man stared down at the spot on his arm and then up at her again. ”Okay,” he said. ”It's a defibrillator.”
”Huh?” she asked, hoping that wasn't some kind of s.e.x toy.
”A machine for shocking the heart.”
”Nah. You're kidding me again, right?”
Vernon unzipped the pouch and revealed a mechanical contraption with wires attached to pads. The thing did resemble miniature hospital equipment.
”Why are you carrying it?” she asked. ”Not for something kinky?”
He shook his big, doughboy head. ”I've got a heart problem. I carry this around in case...well, in case.”
Ross couldn't help staring in the direction of the bloke trying to chat up Mo Tuttle. With some irritation, he noted Mo flirtatiously responding to the pudgy prat's attentions. Most of his irritation was with himself. Why should he care about Mo and her conquests, particularly while he was in the midst of a business meeting? With deliberation, Ross tuned into his companion's voice.
”I'm very excited about this project.” Nicodemus rubbed his hands together.
”I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that,” Ross said.
”This here movie'll be quite a departure from your Stephen Dagger character.” Nicodemus slapped the palm of his hand on the table and gave a jolly belly laugh.
”Yes. Quite.”