The Chosen

thought, puzzled. “I was his fiance, until you and your red-haired friend got hold of him.”

“Oh, now I get it. Well, don’t think about starting any shit with me. None of that was my doing.”

Vera’s scowl felt hot. “Whatever it was you weren’t doing, you sure as hell seemed to be enjoying it at the time.”

“Look, honey, a trick’s a trick. I don’t ask questions when the money’s on the table.”

This was even worse than what she’d always thought. “You mean Paul paid you for sex?” The idea crushed her, it made her feel suddenly more inadequate than she’d ever felt in her life. Was I that bad? Was I so lousy a lover that he had to go out and solicit prostitutes?

“Not the guy,” the blonde said. “The trannie.”

“The what?”

The blonde’s chuckle darkened. “The redhead. You know, the girl with the cock.”

The transexual. Vera began to understand less and less with this conversation; she pulled in front of the first available meter on West Street and parked, her sensibilities in knots. “I still don’t understand. You mean—”

“Hang on, all right?” insisted the blonde. She scratched absently at the cross tattoo. “A person like me, you know, whether I’m fucking or eating pussy or just talking, it’s all the same. It’s time. And you know what they say about time, don’t you?”

Yeah, time is money. What a bitch! Vera passed the woman a couple of twenties. “Now, explain to me. You’re saying it wasn’t Paul who paid you, but the redhead?”

“That’s right,” answered the blonde, who quickly slipped the cash into a pocket. “I was trying to hustle down off Clay Street and she walks up. She said she wanted me to help her with something, and right off the bat she offers me a grand.”

“A thousand dollars!” Vera outraged. “For what?”

“She told me there was some newspaper writer named Paul she wanted to fuck with.”

“But why?”

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t know, and I didn’t ask. When someone drops a grand in your lap, you don’t ask questions.”

Vera’s mind swam in all this confusion. “Well let me ask you something. Is Paul still seeing this—” Vera gulped. “—this trannie?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt it. She didn’t seem interested in him at all once we were done. I figured it was just some guy she wanted to fuck over for some reason.”

But what was the reason? Vera wondered.

“This is how it went,” the blonde went on. “She gives me a grand to play along. Wants to put the make on this writer guy who’s gonna be at the bar that night. Just wants me to pretend I’ve heard of him and act interested. She also says there’ll be plenty of free blow.”

“Cocaine,” Vera muttered to herself.

“Naw, this stuff wasn’t coke, but whatever it was it was really top. One line and I was flying, and the stuff made me hornier than all of the Kennedys wrapped up into one. I’m telling you, just one toot and I didn’t give a shit about anything