Gwen notes my frown and shakes her head subtly, letting me know she’s got this covered. She holds up her wrists and grins at Eddie. “See the handcuff marks? Thank God Lucky gave me a couple hours off tonight so I could meet you, ’cause he hammered it so hard my legs were like jelly.”
Eddie is salivating. “You love it, don’t you, baby! Oh yeah, I can tell you love it.”
Gwen smiles shyly. “Would you hate me if I told you I can’t get enough?”
Eddie’s jaw drops. Drops so hard his mouth remains open a minute. He just sits there staring at Gwen, with his mouth gaping open for so long I think he’s forgotten to close it. Finally he turns to Lucky and gives him a look that’s less like jealousy, more like envy. It’s an evil look, just the same.
“Tell me the truth,” he says. “How tight is she?”
Lucky smiles. “I probably shouldn’t say.”
Gwen says, “Thanks, Lucky.”
Fast Eddie says, “C’mon. You gotta tell me. I gotta know.”
Lucky says, “She’s tighter than the skin on a grape.”
“You lucky motherfucker!” he says.
“That’s me,” Lucky says, grinning. “And it’ll be you, too, when you invest in Vegas Moon. I tell ya Eddie, this is the real deal. We’re gonna own Vegas, you an’ me.”
Eddie says, “I didn’t love Surrey so much, I’d invite you and Gwen to a foursome.”
Gwen looks like she’s about to choke on bile. Which gives me time to wonder why Fast Eddie has to wait on a state court ruling to marry his girlfriend. Is she underage? Is she his cousin? I look at Eddie and decide it’s probably his sister. But it wouldn’t shock me to learn it’s his daughter.
Lucky winks at Eddie and says, “You can’t imagine what I might offer as a bonus to my biggest investors. In addition to cash dividends.”
Eddie looks at Gwen, who somehow manages a faint smile. Then the words, “Who knows, indeed?” somehow escape her lips.
I wonder how many of these dinners she had to attend to help Lucky raise money for Vegas Moon, or other projects. How many leers and rude comments has she already endured, or be expected to endure in the future? How many times will she have to pretend to be impressed or “secretly” attracted to pigs like Eddie?
I look at this prick of a man to my left, and the one on my right who’s possibly worse, and wonder how many bodyguards could work for assholes like these without becoming unraveled. I just met these guys and already want to kill them. But I’ll continue doing my job, which is to sit quietly, scan the room, make sure no one hassles Mr. and Mrs. Peters. Since my life is on the line, I’ll sit here and deal with it, long as I must, until I find the device.
The sound of a woman screaming near the door gets our collective attention.
“Surrey’s here,” Eddie says.
She is indeed.
She’s actually being carried into the restaurant and over to our table by a guy Eddie introduces as Tom. Tom carefully places Surrey in her seat, and makes sure she’s propped up.
Surrey’s a doll.
Not a doll in the way you might say, “Oh, that Reece Witherspoon is so adorable! She’s such a doll!”
No. Surrey’s a life-sized, custom-made, one hundred pound, twenty thousand dollar doll, with skin and facial features so realistic, you have to do a double-take.
I look at the inanimate object sitting at the table. A few of her features are outsized, but in the best possible way. I’m not talking about her breasts, though now that I look, they appear outsized too.
Surrey’s eyes are larger than her human counterparts’, and her body type is petite with no hint of that emaciated look you get from super athletic women, or that hard, muscular look you see in women who lift weights every day. Surrey’s lips are also enhanced, and her coloring appeals to me more than it probably should. Her ethnicity is enhanced, meaning she’s multi-cultural, in a non-discernable way, as if some mad scientist created a perfect blend of female physicality from the world’s most beautiful women. You look at Surrey and you see that technology and art has come together in perfect harmony, and all that’s needed is a lightning strike to bring her to life.
Gwen’s eyes are big as saucers.
“Surrey, what do you think about Vegas Moon?” Lucky says.
Eddie puts his ear to her mouth a minute, then says, “She just got her period.”
“Excuse me?” Lucky says.
“I know,” Eddie says. “Women, right? Jeez.”
19.
I’ve read about these dolls. They not only look real, they’ve been manufactured to feel real. Supposedly, their exterior is virtually identical to the texture of real flesh.
And speaking of flesh, the big draw for Fast Eddie Pickles and every other man who buys these dolls, is the sex. They have three entry areas, mouth, anal and vaginal. But unlike real women, when penetrated, these openings supposedly create a powerful suction. I’m not impressed. I bet a determined, properly-motivated woman could give these dolls a run for their money.
Eddie puts his ear to Surrey’s mouth again. Then says, “Surrey wants to apologize for being late. She’s been crying, and didn’t want her face to look puffy.”
