“It’ll all make more sense as you see it happen,” I said.
It didn’t take long for the first of the regulars to come over to the table to say hello and introduce their friends, presumably hoping they would make it on the list. Soon after, another came by, and then it was a steady trickle.
Eventually all the ring-kissers were done and Andrej saw his opportunity. He brought his date over and asked if they could sit, so of course I said yes.
“What is that?” his date asked Angela, looking at her dinner.
“The chef called it ‘pasta primavera’,” Angela replied. “I asked for something light, with pasta, and this is what she made me.”
“I didn’t see that on the menu,” the hipster girl said, looking a bit disappointed.
“It isn’t on the menu,” Andrej told her. “Leah gets what she wants. If she told the chef she wanted lobster bisque, with a side of grilled okra, she would have gotten it, no questions.”
I signaled for Theo to bring us all another round, but of course Andrej and his date had no idea Angela and I were drinking virgins by this point. Angela and the other girl were quickly into a conversation about the merits of a vegetarian diet, so I leaned in a bit close and spoke to Andrej in a low voice.
“Andrej, I’m glad you came in tonight,” I told him. “I have a favor to ask.”
Surprised and pleased by the attention, Andrej said, “Like I said, whatever you want, you get.”
“You had a reputation as one hell of a black hat before you went corporate,” I said. Andrej’s startled look told me that not many people knew his history, and he certainly didn’t expect I’d be one of them. “Are you still hooked into that community?”
“How did- never mind. Why do you want to know?” Andrej said, looking around to see who might be paying attention.
“I have a certain security problem, and I think that someone like you might be able to connect me with the right person to help solve it,” I said.
“I don’t know who you think I might know… I’m just a computer systems guy. I’ve never been involved in anything IRL," he said, initializing the phrase.
“I have that side of things covered,” I said. “I just need someone to get into a surveillance system and track some guys. That’s it.”
Looking a little bit spooked, Andrej asked, “Corporate system?”
“Local government,” I replied, sipping my mock Old Fashioned. “A transit authority’s camera network.”
“Those are easy,” Andrej said, taking a drink from his own cocktail, subconsciously mirroring my posture. “What will happen to the guys being tracked?”
“A lot depends on what we discover,” I replied.
“I guess I don’t want to know,” Andrej said. “Just- just leave me out of that part, alright?” He asked, and I knew he’d do it.
I explained the mystery of the guys casing the New York townhouse, and how my security team had planted spy cameras and seen that they always come from and disappear into the subway when they visit.
“If I can get eyes on them and see where they go, it would answer a lot of questions about who they are and who might be sending them,” I said.
Andrej looked thoughtful for a few moments, processing the problem. “Alright,” he said. “You say they come by once a week. It might take me a day or two to get into the system. How soon do you need it?”
I sat upright and clapped him on the shoulder. “You rock, Andrej. You need me to do something for you, just let me know.”
Andrej and Lauren (his date) stayed at our table for a while, just being social. Eventually they left to go back to their own table, and I told the waitress to put their night on my tab.
The rest of the evening went along the usual pattern, excepting the fact that Angela was there, both drawing attention and giving me someone to talk to.
At a little bit after nine the piano player and torch singer took the stage to play for what had become a full house by then. The two played classic American Songbook standards loud enough to be heard anywhere in the club, but not so loud that you couldn’t hold a conversation.
All in all, it was a good night, both for me, and for the club. Once Angela really understood the vibe she did a good job of playing up the ‘mob boss mistress’ role, to my delight. She was an object of fascination for quite a few of the clientele that night, both because of her stunning beauty and her obvious position as my girlfriend.
Nobody asked about Angela’s presence, though, which I found fascinating. I know that many, if not most, of the people in that club knew I was married to Emmy De Lascaux, but here I was with another (stunning) woman on my arm.
Back at the condo, Angela pulled the hat off my head and tossed it on the couch, then draped her arms over my shoulders. She looked up at me and said, “That club- it’s amazing. But most of all, you were amazing there. All those people- they adore you!”
“I wouldn't say that,” I hedged. “More like they enjoy the role play.”
Angela thought about it for a moment, and said, “They wouldn’t if you didn’t play the role so well.”
“And that’s why I have to show my face here on the regular,” I admitted. “The concept is a sort of immersion experience, and the more believable the better.”
“Yes, and you make a very, very believable mob boss,” Angela said, standing on her tiptoes for a kiss.
I slid my hands from her waist down and cupped her butt, lifting her up towards me as we kissed.
“And you make a perfect gangster’s moll,” I said. “Too beautiful to be true.”
In bed later after a quick shower, Angela was definitely in the mood. At first I just wanted to sleep, since it had been a long day, but eventually I gave in. I mean, who am I to say no? As it turns out, great sex is a fantastic way to cap off a long day, and just the thing to send me straight into dreamland.
Waking early despite the late night, I briefly toyed with the idea of going for a run, but Angela’s warm body next to mine put an end to those ambitions and soon I was back to sleep, spooning my sweet Colombian girl and enjoying the smell of her skin and her hair.
I awoke again when Angela got up. Laying in bed and feeling lazy only lasted until I heard the shower running, then I was up and joining her under the running water in a flash.
“Good morning,” I said, giving her a kiss as I stepped into the enclosure.
“It is,” she agreed with a smile.
I took the shampoo from her hand and worked some into her long, black hair. I loved the way she arched her back, showing off her muscular definition, and of course, that rock-hard butt of hers.
“What are your plans for today?” she asked as I washed her hair.
“I have to do a few site inspections, then nothing until it’s time to go to the club tonight,” I said, enjoying the process of washing her clean.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Just head back to LA, I guess,” I said.
“I have never been to San Francisco. If we have time, I’d love to go,” Angela replied.
Pulling Angela against myself, I slid my lathered-up hands down her body. “We can absolutely do that,” I told her. “And we can do some sight-seeing here in the South Bay today. Let’s hurry up and get clean so I can do the inspections, then I’ll show you some cool things around here.”
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“Do we have to hurry?” Angela asked, sliding her butt side to side against my thighs.
“We can take a few extra minutes here,” I conceded.
After we dressed and had a quick breakfast, we jumped in the car and went to do the site inspections. There was no particular time I had to be at any of the three sites- I just had to look them over and verify the notes that had been taken. Really, it took longer to drive up to Milpitas, then over to Cupertino and Sunnyvale than it did to actually walk the projects. That done, I told Angela we had a really unusual place to visit. I mentioned the Winchester Mansion, but she’d never heard of it, so I figured it would be a real surprise.
Since it was late morning and off-season, parking was plentiful in the lot and we didn’t have to wait for a tour. I paid the ticket price as Angela gawked at the huge Victorian mansion, then we walked inside to join the tour that was just about to start.
I’d toured it three times during our years in the South Bay, and the guides tended to vary in their explanations of the place. The guide that Angela and I had really hammed up the ‘mystery’ aspects of the house, and talked incessantly about ghosts and seances and so on.
Angela wasn’t buying any of it, but she was fascinated by the bizarre construction details, most especially the cabinet door that led to a whole additional wing of the house.
“This is like the secret door to the wine cellar in the townhouse!” she exclaimed, delighted.
Angela loved the mansion, but after the hour-long tour was over she said, “I think all that ghost stuff was nonsense.”
“I’ve heard two different stories, and I don’t think they’re mutually exclusive. The first is that she was interested in spiritualism, but the thing about continually building to confuse the ghosts is just bullshit,” I said. “The second story is that she had a ton of money, but no real friends and not much of an interest in society, so she indulged her hobby of amateur architecture. Things like the stairs that go nowhere are just because she had a room built on top of the stairs, and not for any reason other than she had so much money and space that there was no reason to care if it made any sense.”
“So she wasn’t afraid of ghosts?” Angela asked, curious.
“Evidently that’s just a rumor that the townsfolk spread.”
Satisfied with that explanation, Angela asked, “What’s next?”
“Now, we go for a drive,” I said.
“Where are we going?”
“Up there,” I said pointing at the mountain peaks to the east.
I took Mt Hamilton Road at a quick pace, but nothing too daring since there were plenty of cyclists riding up and down the mountain.
“This reminds me of some of the roads back in Colombia,” Angela said, looking out over the huge drop inches away from the edge of the pavement. She seemed completely unconcerned, but given the amount of time she’d spent in cars I was busy driving sideways at the time, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
We drove all the way up to the observatory, taking a few minutes to enjoy the view from the edge of the parking area.
“This is really beautiful,” Angela said, holding my hand. “Thank you for bringing me up here.”
I leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “I’m glad you like it,” I said, holding out my hand for her camera. “Now let’s take some pictures for your socials.”
When it was time to think about getting ready to go to the club, Angela said, “Emmy told me to tell you to wear your blue suit tonight,” and handed me a purple silk handkerchief. Of course I did as instructed, picking out a navy tie with paisleys similar in color to the violet of the handkerchief. Not exact, but close enough.
To my complete lack of surprise, Angela’s dress for the night was made of silk again, but this time in the same violet purple as that night’s handkerchief. Unlike the form-fitting red dress, this was a softer profile, more of a maxi slip dress. Whereas the red one had exaggerated Angela’s figure, this one hinted about her curves as it slid softly over her skin with every movement. When she spun around to show off, I saw the back of the dress was very low cut indeed, dropping all the way down to her hips.
The red dress had screamed “bombshell!”, but the violet one whispered soft sophisticated seductions.
Angela adjusted the angle of my hat (the charcoal fedora this time, not the gray) and settled my tie into place a little better, fingering the tie pin.
“There’s something I don’t understand…” she said pensively. “Why do you look better in men’s clothes than any man I’ve ever seen?”
I slid my hands from her hips up her bare back, pulling her close. I was about to kiss her but she turned a bit. “I just did my lipstick- you don’t want it on you,” she cautioned, so I nuzzled under her ear.
“And you look so amazing in that dress that if I actually were a man, I’d find these pants painfully uncomfortable.”
Angela leaned back and gave me a scandalized expression, but she couldn’t maintain it and broke into giggles. She slipped her hand down between us and stroked my lady parts through the trousers.
“Nope- no stiffy,” she announced. Her touch felt amazing, and she could see that I was enjoying it. “Tonight, if you’re nice to me, I have a special something for you when we get back home,” she promised.
“Maybe we can skip going to the club,” I groaned, shifting to give her a better angle with her hand.
“Nope,” she declared. “You have to take me out and treat me nice first.”
“When do I not treat you nice?” I asked, but it was getting difficult to keep the conversation going.
“You always treat me nice,” Angela admitted. “That’s why I love you so much.” With that, she pulled away before I could kiss her some more.
The material of this dress was soft and loose, allowing her boobs to move freely underneath the top. When it pulled tight just right as she moved, you could even make out the outline of her nipples with the barbell jewelry.
My mouth was dry, but other parts were definitely not as I watched her move around the condo, gathering her shawl and clutch.
“Ready to go?” Angela asked, enjoying the attention.
“Of course,” I replied, holding my arm out for her. “Let’s go knock ‘em dead.”
Angela had an idea of what to expect at the club, so she had her ‘gangster mistress’ persona on before the valet even opened her car door.
When Tony let us in the unmarked door to the speakeasy, his eyes just about fell out of his head at the sight of Angela. There was no way I could blame him- after all, mine had done the same when I first saw her in that violet dress.
I used a knuckle to lift his jaw, shutting his gaping mouth just like in the cartoons.
“Tone,” I said. “You’ll let flies in like that.”
“Sorry, boss,” he apologized, staying in character. “I just ain’t never seen a dame like her before.”
“There ain’t never been a dame like her before,” I agreed, and we bumped knuckles in agreement.
Angela and I made the rounds again as I glad-handed the regulars and greeted some new clients that I didn’t recognize before we made it to our corner table.
Angela told the chef without any hesitation that she wanted a Caesar’s salad, and I ordered a filet. We told Theo to set us up the same as the night before, and we were ready for the evening.
It didn’t take long before people came over to meet and greet, like usual, but this time Angela was expecting it.
Just about the time that the singer and piano player took their first break, maybe around nine thirty or so, Andrej came in with a guy I didn’t know. They made a beeline straight to our table and sat down when I waved for them to do so. Andrej scooted a bit closer to me so he could speak without being overheard.
“This is my friend Tom,” he said, introducing the overweight and UV-deprived guy that he’d brought in. “Tom and I worked all night last night and all day today on your problem, and we have done what you asked,” Andrej said. “And then some.”
I nodded that I was listening, and he explained. “The MTA camera network in New York City has fairly weak security protocols, so it was easy enough to get in and get admin access, but we found something interesting.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
“It turns out they have a very sophisticated facial recognition system,” Andrej said. “Getting into that took us quite a bit more work, but we have access to that, now, too. So now, all we need is to identify your mystery visitors one time, and we can let the system do all the tracking you could possibly want.”
“Andrej, my friend, that is excellent news,” I said and clapped him on the back. “So how do we get this ball rolling?”
“Your security guy keeps an eye out, and pings me when the visitors stop by. I access the systems and patch him in to the video feed. When he identifies the targets, I get the recognition system to track them, and flag any time they appear in the subway.”
Not bothering to correct Andrej on Mia’s gender, I said, “Sounds simple enough, but then what?”
“I’ll have it set up so the system alerts your security guy to the targets’ movements in real-time through a series of anonymized network links, so it’ll be nearly impossible to backtrack the intrusion to you or me.”
“This is well beyond what I could have hoped for, Andrej. This is pure gold.”
“So, Leah,” Andrej said, leaning in closer. “It will be exceptionally hard for anyone to discover my involvement in this, so I think that I’m clean.” A concerned look on his face, he leaned in closer. “But this got me thinking, and I did some research on you. There are a lot of rumblings online that you’re, well…”
“A killer?” I asked.
Relieved that I’d said it and he hadn’t had to, he nodded. “I’d always thought that your reputation as being tough was mostly just theater, you know? But there are actual, real police reports that link you to some disappearances and things like that. In one report from New York, the detective actually wrote that your demeanor was consistent with psychopathic behavior patterns.”
“Because I beat up a junkie who tried to shoot my wife?” I asked.
“The detective’s report said that you showed no remorse at all for beating the man and breaking several of his bones,” Andrej said. “Is it true?”
“It’s true I have no remorse for beating up a junkie who pulled a gun on my wife. The broken bones he suffered were far less than what a gunshot would have done to Emmy,” I said.
“He had a gun, and you beat him so severely he had to be hospitalized?” Andrej asked, still trying to wrap his brain around the idea that it might actually all be true.
“It seemed the right thing to do at the time,” I answered.
Andrej let out a breath and said, “I don’t want to know what happens to these guys I’m helping you track.”
“Hopefully nothing will happen to them,” I said. “They haven’t made any aggressive moves, so I’m leaning towards the idea that they aren’t really a threat.”
“But you’re concerned they might be.”
“Very concerned,” I agreed.
“Tom doesn’t know any of the back story. I didn’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t really care,” Andrej said, and we both looked over at the guy across the table. He seemed completely flustered that Angela was even talking to him, at a complete loss for words. He clearly wasn’t used to attention from women, especially not drop-dead gorgeous women dressed like she was.
After I got Andrej’s anonymized contact info for Mia, the two left.
“It was a real pleasure to meet you, Tom,” Angela said as the large man got up from the table.
“You, too,” Tom said clumsily. “It was nice talking to you, too.”
Once they were gone, Angela said, “I feel sorry for him. I think he is on the spectrum. He doesn’t know how to talk to women at all.”
“Thanks for being nice to him like that,” I said. “That was kind of you.”
Shrugging, Angela said, “Just because he’s socially awkward doesn’t mean he has no worth as a human being.”
I rested my hand on hers and said, “No, it doesn’t, but most people have a hard time recognizing that.”