Geek Mafia (6 page)

"Fuck 'em," said Paul. "I'm rich now, right? I should buy a whole new wardrobe anyway." He added another box of clothes to the dumpster. Then they were off, although Paul noticed Filo's van went the opposite direction. "Where are they going with my stuff?" asked Paul.

"Storage locker on the other side of town. I know the owner and got you a deal."

"Won't I need my stuff?" asked Paul.

"I thought you were buying new stuff?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't need some of that. My sketchbooks and the finished art from all my old comics are in there." Paul didn't really much care about anything else, but those originals were literally priceless to him and represented eleven years of hard work.

"Don't worry, the stuff will be there when you need it." She dug a key with a tag out of her pocket and handed it to Paul. "Here's the key. The address and number are on the tag."

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"Ok."

"Besides, there's not enough room for all that junk at my place."

"Your place?" asked Paul. "I thought I was going to stay with Raff."

"I thought better of it," she said. "I want to keep an eye on you. Besides, after the party we're gonna throw tonight, you won't be in any condition to leave for a week or two anyway."

Paul drove over to the rental agency that owned his apartment, and passed over his keys. He signed a couple of papers while the guy behind the counter blathered on about breaking leases and forfeiting security deposits, but Paul scarcely listened. He gave a PO Box address to forward his mail to and left. Next he cancelled the cell phone service. Then he closed all his old bank accounts.

The night before, he and Chloe had had a long talk about what would happen after they pulled off their little con. She had warned him that he might want to make it hard for his ex-partners to find him and cause trouble, either legally or physically.

"You're going to make a lot of enemies in that room today," she had said.

"I think they were already my enemies."

"Nope. Before they just didn't like you very much. Before you probably never had a real enemy in your life.

Now you're gonna have three or four of them."

"I think you should define your terms here," he had said.

"People who wouldn't hesitate to do you bodily harm if they could get away with it. People who curse your name on a daily basis and wish you no end of ill will. I'm talking people who actively want to see you dead.

You know, enemies."

"You're right, I don't think I've ever had one of those," he'd said.

"Well, judging from what I've seen of these guys, and based on how totally we're going to fuck them over tomorrow morning, you're gonna have some soon."

"Ok."

"Which means," she'd said, "You don't want to be anywhere were they can find you. You don't want them to have any opening to strike back. Especially in the first twenty-four hours or so, when they're still so angry it's like a physical pain in their side. That's when they'll pull the crazy shit. That's when they'll come shoot your tires out or throw bricks through your window. That's why you have to be nowhere in sight. You shouldn't go home for at least three days. Maybe a week."

Paul thought about this for a few long minutes. Why leave his crappy apartment for just a week? Why not leave it altogether? The thought of just cutting every link to his old life grabbed hold of Paul's imagination and wouldn't let go. The sheer freedom that came with such a decision offered an array of intoxicating possibilities. Paul had decided then and there to abandon his apartment completely. He'd only rented the place because it was close to the office. He had no happy memories there, no ties to the place at all. Why not just move out completely and make it impossible for Greg or anyone else to find him? Chloe seemed surprised at Paul's decision, but also pleased. She had arranged for the Crew to help him evacuate as fast as possible. From there he'd planned to just sort of play it by ear.

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And now, apparently, the plan was for him to stay with Chloe. All in all, that sounded like a pretty appealing plan. Paul had no idea what she wanted from him or even why she was doing this, but he was assuming/hoping that she was as attracted to him and he was to her. Hopefully he'd find out tonight at this mother-of-all-parties she was planning.

They quickly unloaded the car into Chloe's living room. "We'll get you sorted out later. Right now I'm starving, let's go get some lunch."

Lunch was at a hole in the wall Thai place not too far from Chloe's house. The owners seemed to know her and brought her and Paul Thai iced teas without asking. Chloe had Pad Thai and Paul ordered the special -

something involving shrimp - and then, for the first time in hours, he had a chance to catch his breath.

"Wow," he said. "It's been quite a freaking crazy ass day."

"I'll bet," she replied. "Beats drowning your sorrows in cheap margaritas though, doesn't it?"

"Definitely, assuming we don't all go to jail."

"No one's going to jail. I ain't never been caught yet."

"Do you do this kind of thing often then?" asked Paul.

"Well, not this exact kind of thing, no. But I've been in some shit way worse than this." She reached across and put her hands over his and looked him right in the eye. "Don't worry about it, Paul. Everything's going to be fine. I promise, Ok?" And he believed her. He wasn't sure why, but he believed her. "So, what're you going to do with all that money?"

"I don't know," said Paul. "Probably move back to Florida. Buy a house. Invest the rest I guess."

"What's in Florida?" she asked.

"My family, most of my friends. Greg and I are both from there originally, but he moved out here years ago to start his first company. I only came out to start the game company. Now there's no real reason to stay."

"You don't like it out here?"

"Oh, it's fine," he said. "It's actually pretty cool. But it's expensive. And I think my $850,000 will go a hell of a lot further back there than it will out here. I could by a condo like the one I was living in for less than a hundred K. back home. Here it'd cost me two or three times as much."

"Yeah," said Chloe. "I grew up here so I guess I'm used to the crazy prices and stuff. I certainly understand your wanting to go home though."

Then the food arrived and they dug right in. It was good. Damn good for five bucks, and Paul said so to Chloe.

"You see," she said. "Not everything out here is expensive. You just need a local guide to show you the ropes."

"Maybe you're right," said Paul. "To be honest, I've been here almost three years and I don't really know the area very well at all. Most of my time's been either at work or at home or hanging out with people from work at somebody's house."

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"Sounds like you need to get out more and see some of our local sights before you head back east."

"That's a pretty good idea." There was certainly no hurry to go anywhere, he thought. There damn sure wasn't anyone like Chloe waiting for him back home. Not even close.

Chloe and Paul each took a moment to dig into their food. It was spicy enough to make his eyes water, which was just the way Paul liked it, and he was pleased to see Chloe heaping even more chili sauce onto her own dish. On some level Paul thought anyone who didn't like spicy food was a wimp, and it was becoming more obvious with each passing hour that there was nothing at all wimpy about Chloe.

"But back to my question," she said after a few minutes. "What're you gonna do with all that money?"

"I told you," he said "Buy a house, live off the interest."

"Yeah, sure, but what are you going to actually do? How are you going to spend your time?"

"Oh, well, I'm not sure. I could start up a new comic book I suppose. Maybe something based on what's happened to me here."

"Do you miss making comics?" she asked.

"A ton. I really miss just being my own master and not having to sit through endless design meetings where I have to justify every decision to everyone in the company."

"You like being master of your own destiny," said Chloe. "I'm exactly the same way. I can't even hold down a straight job anymore. I just get too pissed off at dumb people telling me what to do."

"What do you do for a living then?" asked Paul, although as he asked the question he realized that he was a little scared to hear the answer.

"Oh you know, this and that. I just try to have fun." She paused and cocked her head to the side. "Come to think of it, I don't really know how I make money. Something always seems to come up though. Life's funny that way." Paul took this to mean that it was none of his business.

"But come on Paul, answer the question," she pressed. "What're you going to do with $850,000?"

"I'm pretty sure I answered that," said Paul.

"You only sort of answered it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Chloe, leaning back in her chair and pushing her empty plate away. "That your answer sucks, and I'm going to keep asking until you come up with a better one."

"What?" said Paul, "You want me to give some of it to you?"

She laughed. "No, you big goofball. I don't need your money. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You could do something really exciting with this money. You could do almost anything, at least for a time."

"And then I'd be out of money and back where I started," he said.

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"Or maybe you'd be out of money and somewhere millions of miles away from where you started," she said.

"Maybe you'd do something that would change your life forever and you'd never be able to go back. Never want to."

"Haven't I committed enough felonies for one day?" he asked, jokingly.

"Shush, you!" She chided. "There's never such a thing as too many felonies - as long as they're the right felonies."

"Speaking of which," said Paul as he looked at his watch. "I think it's about time to make a withdrawal."

"Ok, pal, let's go get your booty," said Chloe, as she stood up.

"Booty?" asked Paul, his mind turning towards another kind of booty as he stood up as well.

"You know! You're ill-gotten gains. Your filthy lucre." She suddenly leapt towards him, jumping into his arms. He caught her - just barely - with an audible ooof. "C'mon! Don't you know your pirate slang, rich boy?"

He smiled widely even as he strained to hold her whole weight. Their faces were very close now - just inches apart. "Ohhhhh...Booty!" he said. "I thought we were going to a strip club or something."

"Yeah, you wish, cowboy." Her face was very close now and they were looking straight into each other's eyes.

Paul decided to go in for the kiss. She turned her head just enough so that his lips pressed against her cheek instead of her lips, but he played it cool like he'd always planned it that way. He made a loud fake kissing noise as he pulled away.

"All right then," said Chloe, disentangling herself and finding her feet again. "Let's finish this up and get you paid." She tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table and turned towards the door. Paul watched her walk off and caught his breath. Suddenly he felt sick again. What was he doing? What had he done? Who was this person?

Then she turned and looked over her shoulder at him, smiling. "Come on, pirate-boy. Your booty awaits."

Paul couldn't have stopped himself from staring at her ass even if he'd wanted to.

"Right behind ya," he said, and went to go get his money.

Forty-five minutes later they were fighting their way through rush hour traffic. However, the gym bag full of money in the trunk made it easy for Paul to tolerate the crowds of cars.

Everyone at the little bank had watched them the entire time they'd been in there. It wasn't often that someone took out $850,000 in cash. Chloe had put her wig and sunglasses back on, just in case, and Paul wished he'd had a disguise of his own. As they drove away, Paul watched Chloe out of the corner of his eye as she removed the wig. She'd worn it because she didn't want to be recognized on the videotape. She didn't want to be recognized because what they'd done was probably illegal. She didn't want to be recognized because she was a thief.

Paul stopped the car, pulling into a McDonald's parking lot.

"You're hungry again?" said Chloe in surprise. "There's going to be food at the party you know."

His throat was dry and his stomach roiling. But he had to do this; it was the only thing that made sense. "Can I meet you at your house later?" he asked. "For the party."

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"What do you mean?" she said, looking at him intensely. "Paul, what's wrong?"

"Can you get a ride from here?" He asked.

"From here...I don't..."

"I just," Paul said. "I just need to be alone for a little while. Do some things. Some private things."

Chloe stared at him hard. Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead and then opened her door.

"Ok," she said sweetly. "I understand. You're still coming to the party though, right?"

He smiled unconvincingly. "Of course," he said. "I'll bring some champagne to celebrate with."

"Great," said Chloe. "I'll see you in a few hours then?" He just nodded and she closed the door. He pulled immediately back into traffic, heading for the freeway.

He hid the money. Made sure it was safe. Even if Chloe and her friends did turn out to be heartless thieves they wouldn't be able to steal from him. He took out $10,000, which seemed a ridiculous amount of money to carry around, and stashed the rest away in a safe place he knew. After that he drove around for a while, debating back and forth whether to go to the party or just disappear. Or maybe even give the money back to Greg. Or maybe...No. They'd done nothing but help him. He owed them some thanks at the very least. And he wanted to find out. To find out about Chloe and see what it was that she really wanted.

He decided to stop by the house, just for a few minutes anyway. Just to say thanks.

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Chapter 6