you got a routine like that?”
“It’s mine. I created it. But I’ve had some training.”
“You’re gonna knock ’em dead with that act.”
“Oh,” she said cheerfully, “there’s lots more where that came from. Does this mean I get the job?”
Cameron laughed heartily. “Yeah, I think it does. We were planning on picking up five new girls. And you’re one through five. For now, go on back to the dressing room. I’ll send somebody in to work out a contract-all the legal stuff, our club’s rules and routines. Then a technician will work with you on lighting. The spot will have to follow you around the stage. With your moves, that ain’t gonna be easy. All this’ll take a while. So how about I take you out for dinner? Whad’ya say?”
It did consume most of the day. It took the lighting man almost twice the usual time to set up for Judy. She had so many moves that eventually he had to make cue cards for himself.
At nearly eight that evening, she was waiting outside Cameron’s office. He smiled as he took her arm. He smiled a lot that evening.
They went to the Whitney, a renovated mansion near Detroit’s cultural center. The Whitney ranked with the finest restaurants in the metropolitan area. Cameron had escorted many extremely attractive women there. He could not remember ever being especially proud of his companion as he was tonight. He wanted to show off Judy to everyone.
The other diners were dazzled. He could tell.
They made small talk through the meal. He contributed most. She asked questions.
Afterward, he drove her home. An apartment house in northwest Detroit. No place special, but Cameron knew that with what she would make, she would surely move up in the world. No limit.
She asked if he’d like to come in for coffee.
A latter-day Henry Higgins, he would remake this little lady. He smiled at her naivete; of course he was coming in.
The place was comfortably, if sparsely, furnished. There was a bedroom, so there would be no delay wrestling open a sofa bed.
She went into the kitchen and actually began making coffee. He smiled again.
He entered the kitchen quietly and stood behind her, thinking how the perfume he would recommend would improve even this beauty.
It was there in the kitchen he made his first move.
With both arms wrapped around her from behind, he cupped her breasts with his hands. He was careful not to bruise them in the slightest. From the costume that had barely covered her earlier, he knew her breasts were perfect firm mounds. The Wonder Bra would be redundant.
She froze.
“What’s goin’ on here?” he said with a touch of impatience. “You’ve been coming on to me all day long. And you pick now to climb in the freezer!”
“Sorry, Jake. But let’s take it slow … okay?”
“Well, pardon me-I thought we were. Okay, make your coffee.” He returned to the living room and sat on the couch. He was not nearly as happy as he had been.
She brought in the coffee. Plainly, she was skittish and apprehensive.
She asked about Susan Batson and her chances. Susan was hired, he said sullenly. She asked more questions. He was tired of her questions, tired of answering them. The situation was deteriorating.
Suddenly, she seemed to reach a decision. She rose and crossed the room to him. She took his hand and wordlessly led him into the bedroom. In a few moves, she removed her clothing and began helping him with his.
“For a broad who wanted to go slow, you sure are in a hurry.” He wasn’t complaining.
“Let’s not talk,” she whispered.
They fell into bed. He attempted foreplay, but she pushed his hand aside and guided him into her. She did have a few erotic moves. His orgasm came quickly and in seconds was complete.
No sooner was he finished than she left the bed and hurried into the bathroom, whence came the unmistakable sounds of vomiting.
It was the ultimate turnoff. He dressed hurriedly and, without bothering to check on her well-being-physical or mental-departed.
He was at Virago early the next morning. Too early; he’d had far too much to drink after he got home. But there were things that needed doing, and he was the only one capable of making these decisions.
He was unsure what to make of that fiasco with Judy last night. There was no doubt she would add an unprecedented touch of class to the club. But he now had serious doubts about her mistress role.
Having learned, or so he thought, from his experience with Margie, he had never married. But if he hadn’t had a limitless supply of condoms, he could easily have become known as the latter-day Father of our Country.
Still, he had been completely fooled by Judy. The way she danced, the way she looked, the way she acted-he might even, in time, have considered marriage.
But now-well that was out of the question. Hell, he doubted that he’d ever again even attempt sex with her.
Such were his thoughts when Joe Blinstraub knocked and entered the office. He held out a packet that had been hand-delivered for Cameron. It contained a videocassette and an envelope. Taped to the cassette was a typed note that read, “Play this first.”
Cameron, puzzled, handed the cassette to Blinstraub, who inserted it into the VCR.
The furrows in Cameron’s forehead deepened momentarily, as a few blurry lines appeared on the screen. His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened as the blurred lines cleared to capture last night’s romp in Judy’s bed. With no lead-in to what had actually taken place, it looked for all the world as if he had raped the girl.
In a rage, he ripped open the envelope and read the enclosure:
Jake:
You never looked better.
A couple of things you ought to know: One, the young lady you were with is not Judy Young. She is Judith Green, my daughter. And two, Young is a small pun on my part. Actually, she is fifteen, not eighteen.
Jake, all this comes down to statutory rape. With more than enough evidence.
But why should I threaten you? Especially when we are about to merge the ownership of Virago-and all future Viragos.
What are partners for, anyway?
Your new partner,
Moe
P.S. My lawyer will be calling on your lawyer.
Cameron crumpled the letter and slam-dunked it in the wastebasket. “Have you figured it out yet, Joe?”
Blinstraub shook his head.
“Judy Young, our star for the day, is really Judith Green.”
Blinstraub’s mouth dropped open. After a few moments, he shook his head. “Wait-you didn’t really-!”
“Damn it, Joe, I
“Okay, okay-”
“You remember her age on the resume?”
“Eighteen, wasn’t it?”
“Right: eighteen. And guess what? Guess how old she really is.”
“Uh … not fifteen!”
“Right again, Joe. And that’s statutory. They’ve got the tape. And, in exchange for letting Green into our organization, he’ll sit on the evidence.”
“Blackmail!”
Cameron, teeth gritted, nodded.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“You’re a lawyer. Anything come to mind?”
