“Wh-what?”
I decide not to tell him. Letting him imagine the worst is more terrifying.
Lucky and Gwen come out of the restaurant. Lucky’s furious. He marches up to the driver’s window, starts banging on it, demanding me to open up. Gwen passes in front of the car, staring directly at me, mouthing the words, Thank you!
It might be wishful thinking, but I think I see the spark returning to her eyes. I give her a wink, then roll the window down an inch and say, “Back up, Lucky. I’m getting out.”
To Hampton I say, “Sit tight.”
“Can I take off my blindfold?” he whines.
“No.”
I turn the radio on so he won’t hear the quick conversation I have with Lucky and Gwen. Then I climb back in the car, turn the radio off, and say, “Lucky is very angry at me. He’s a man of his word, and Gwen’s a good sport. Against my wishes, she’s agreed to let you feel her up.”
“It’s okay. I w-was out of line.”
Lucky opens the door. Gwen is standing next to him. She reaches out and takes his right hand in hers.
“I want you to,” she coos. “Please?”
“Okay.”
Lucky lifts up his shirt, exposing the sensational pair of breasts Gwen showed me in the photo. It only takes a quick glance to confirm that Phyllis put a lot of love into his boob job. Good thing, because one glance is all I can stomach. To me, it’s just creepy. Gwen places Hampton’s hand on Lucky’s left tit. His hand jumps. He obviously wasn’t expecting to touch flesh. He touches it again, enthusiastically, and Gwen moans softly. This goes on long enough that I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Finally, Gwen removes Hampton’s hand from Lucky’s breast, leans into the car and gives Hampton a kiss on the cheek. Whispers something in his ear. I motion Lucky and Gwen to get in the back seat. They do, and I drive us to Hampton’s bank to cash the check. When we get there, Lucky and Gwen take the check inside. When they exit the bank moments later, they’re not happy.
“What’s wrong?”
“Insufficient funds.”
“How much does he have?”
“They won’t say.”
I remove his blindfold.
“How much is in your account?” I say.
“A couple hundred.”
“Dollars?” Lucky says. “You son of a bitch!”
I kick Hampton out of the car. As we drive away, he yells, “Gwen! Call me!”
A few minutes later Gwen says to Lucky, “Now you know what it’s like.”
“What?”
“To get felt up by a slime ball.”
“Actually, I kind of liked it,” Lucky says.
25.
We’re back at the house. Gwen’s in her bedroom, changing clothes. Lucky’s in his command center, with the door locked. He’s settling back into his routine. After missing several days of action, the calls from his savants are piling up. I’m on the phone with Callie, telling her about my morning. When I hear Gwen open her bedroom door, I say, “Gotta run!” and click my phone off.
“Will you take me to the Forum?”
She’s wearing cut off jeans with frayed ends that are short enough to show a sliver of pink panty, and a UNLV cotton t-shirt with rhinestone lettering. A thin, tan leather strap hangs on one shoulder and crosses her chest like a bandolier belt, and is attached to a Chanel purse that hugs her left hip. The purse is high style, but too small to be practical. She’s wearing pink eye shadow, with blue eyeliner, and frosted pink lipstick. Her hair’s in a pony tail and the whole package is put together so well, I don’t give a shit what kind of sandals she’s wearing. But they look great, too.
“The shopping center Forum?” I say.
“The same.”
“What about Lucky?”
“He won’t even know we’re gone.”
“You sure about that?”
“Trust me. He’ll stay locked in there till eight-fifteen tonight.
“Why?”
“Two reasons. First, he’s avoiding you.”
