It's A Wonderfully Sexy Life (19 page)

Now, if can survive next hours without spilling drinks or falling flat on make-up masked face, all should be over soon. Likelihood of needing orthopedic surgery afterward to correct damage to arches imposed by instrument-of-torture fuck-me pumps: high. Number of bikini waxings, make that full-body waxings, required to pull off skimpy cocktail waitress outfit without looking like cast member from
Planet of the Apes
: one but unfortunately no time to make appointment.

Number of bitchy blond ex-fiancées (with emphasis on ex) stashed away in hole-in-wall apartment: only one but can’t put her on a plane back to Boston fast enough.

It had been a busy twenty-four hours for everyone involved: her, Josh and the two FBI agents, Walker and McKinney, who’d finally come onboard. Only Tiffany had been left out of the loop. When they’d returned to Josh’s apartment the day before, they’d found her soaking in the clawfoot bathtub, overflowing bubbles onto the floor and singing at the top of her lungs as though she hadn’t a care in the world. After the first hour or so, most of Mandy’s feelings of inadequacy melted away like leftover winter snow hit by spring sunshine. The woman might be a dead ringer for Jessica Simpson, but she was also one of the most self-absorbed people Mandy had ever met. In the fewer than twenty-four hours she’d known her, and it certainly seemed longer, Tiffany had managed to find anything and everything to complain about from there being no Evian in the refrigerator to the absence of cable TV. But the worst part of the whole setup was that Mandy and Josh didn’t have the privacy to make love. Being in such close proximity and being able to do little more than hold hands had turned out to be more sensual torture than tease. The time they’d shared so far had seemed to fly by. Who knew how many more opportunities they’d have before he left town.

The one saving grace of their situation was that working out the details of putting their plan into play had provided them both with plenty else to think about. Winning over Walker and McKinney had certainly taken some doing. Holding firm, Mandy had assured them she fully intended to carry out the operation with or without their help. Not even their threats to file a complaint with her department head could dissuade her. But it took Josh’s threat to rescind his agreement to testify should they fail to cover her back that proved the tipping point in getting them to agree.

As for Josh, despite the fact that he had two FBI agents guarding him, she still had misgivings about leaving him in the van parked in the alley out back. Normally mob hits followed a pattern: abduction, removal of the intended victim to some remote location, and then execution. But the water taxi episode made it clear that the hitter was desperate and determined enough to take a potshot out in plain view. They’d been lucky the other day, but with the clock ticking like a bomb set to explode before January second, they couldn’t expect that luck to hold out indefinitely or even much longer. The best, the only, way to foil another strike was to make sure there wasn’t one. That required taking a proactive approach, namely turning the tables so that the hunter became the hunted. As long as she kept the hit man and his cronies under her eye, Josh should be safe enough, for the time being at least. Still, she didn’t want overconfidence to lead any of them to take unnecessary risks.

A tall blonde wearing only bikini bottoms, fishnet hose and a smile passed her by, and Mandy couldn’t help staring. Size D boobs topped the blonde’s reed-thin body, the nipples pointed north.
No way are those real,
Mandy thought, and kept going when the woman did a double-take and retraced her steps, coming to stand at the servers’ station beside her.

Cracking gum, she looked Mandy up and down. “Hey, you must be the new girl Mikey hired.” She held out a hand capped with three-inch nail tips. Each nail sported a delicately painted tongue. Amazing.

“Yes, that’s right. My name’s Amy.”

“Hi, Amy, I’m Janice.” Janice followed up on the welcome with a broad smile of red lips and tobacco-stained teeth. “I guess Mikey told you you’ll be training with me tonight.”

Mandy nodded. Between savory bites of Duda’s crab cakes the other day, she and her cousin had put together the basics of the undercover operation. To make sure things were still on track, she asked, “We’re working that private party, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a small group, just a few guys, so it should be a lot less crazy than out here on the main floor. I waited on them once before earlier in the week. The big Italian from New England goes by Tommy the Terminator.”

“Tommy the Terminator?”

Janice shrugged. “I dunno, maybe it was his wrestling name or something. By the size of him, he mighta been in the ring at one time. Anyway, he’s a little demanding but if you serve him right, he’s a big tipper.”

Afraid to ask what
serving him right
might involve, Mandy said, “Good to know. I’ll try not to slow you down.”

Janice laid a friendly hand on Mandy’s shoulder. “Hey, try not to be nervous. Everybody’s gotta have a first night. Stick with me, hon, and you’ll be a pro in no time.” She ran her heavily lined eyes over Mandy, gaze stalling at chest level. “Awesome boobs, by the way. Those real?”

Mandy looked down to where her pink nipples poked through the gauzy lace of her flesh-colored top, and felt a blush burn its way up from her throat to the roots of her beneath the wig. “Yep, that’s all me, with the gut and hips to prove it.”

“You’re lucky. No, seriously, I’d kill for those curves. I’m always trying to put on weight, but the diabetes makes it tough.” Janice settled a hand over one hat-rack hip and made a face.

Until now, it had never occurred to Mandy that a thin woman might covet a fuller figure. “Really, sorry to hear that. You have such a beautiful slender figure, I never would have guessed.”

“Yeah, well.” Janice lifted her breasts for Mandy’s inspection. “These I had to pay for, but they were worth every dime. The first day back to work from the surgery, my tips more than doubled even with the scars still showing.”

“Wow, good to know.”

Janice leaned closer, nudging her in the side. “Just a word to the wise, you’ll do a lot better tonight if you lose the top.”

“What…oh, I don’t know if that would be such a good idea. I’m, uh…just getting over a chest cold.”

Janice shot her a knowing glance. “Shy, huh? Well, hon, all I can say is get over it and fast, otherwise this sure as shit ain’t the gig for you. With the wad of bills you’ll walk out of here with tonight, you can buy yourself all the Vicki’s Secret bras you want.”

As if on cue, Mandy’s low whisper came through the receiver. “I’m about to head into the private room to help set up.”

Sitting up straight, Walker asked, “Any sign of the suspect?”

“Not yet. Oh, wait, he just showed. He’s at the door talking to my cousin, the bouncer.”

“What’s he look like?”

She hesitated. “Beefy guy in a dark suit. I’d say about six feet tall. Wavy dark hair slicked back. He must use some product to give it that wet look. Wait, he’s coming closer. Face scarred like maybe he had bad acne as a kid. Nose’s definitely been broken. Okay, hold tight, he’s stopping to say something to Janice. I can’t hear what he’s saying but the accent’s got to be New England. Boston, I’d bet money on it.”

McKinney chimed in. “What about his buddies, the two locals?”

“No sign of them yet.”

They waited for her to say more but when she didn’t, the silence brought Josh to the edge of his seat. If anything happened to Mandy, he’d never forgive himself.

Her voice filtered through the audio once more, and Josh released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Okay, Janice just sent me to grab the drink and snack setups. I’ve got to sign off for now.”

McKinney answered, “Okay, Delinski, but keep us posted. Just remember, we’re bending all kinds of rules here. Don’t do anything stupid and don’t be a hero.”

“Right, got it. Over and out.”

“Six o’clock and coming toward us, one skinny as a rail, the other pumped up like Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

Mandy turned away from the bar and cast her gaze out onto the floor. Her heart caught in her throat. Walking her way were two very familiar faces: her ex, Lenny, and the bodybuilder she’d met at Suz’s New Year’s Eve party, Danny Somebody.

She turned back to Mikey. “You sure those are his buddies? The same guys he met with the other night?”

“Yep. Slipped me a fifty to keep a lookout for them and show them inside. Speaking of which, I gotta get back to the door. You need me, you call me, okay?” He squeezed her shoulder and then pushed off to greet the mismatched pair.

Loading up her tray with bowls of snack mix and drink setups, Mandy asked herself what business a down-on-his-luck investment broker and an iron man would have with a Mafia hit man unless somehow they were in on the deal.

Suz’s voice as she led her toward the kitchen.
See the Italian hunk standing by the beer cooler talking to my brother? His name’s Danny Romero, and he owns a gym downtown.

Romero as in Romero crime family. It was a fairly common Italian surname, and so Mandy hadn’t given it much, make that
any
thought at the time, but suddenly it all made a crazy kind of sense. The gym probably served as a Mafia front business, hence Danny’s bragging about his expansion plans as though he’d just come into a windfall of cash. Cash she’d bet anything he’d been paid for helping to take Josh out.

As for Lenny, she didn’t know his angle just yet, but given his background, it figured he might be helping to cook the books. Given her personal experience of being on the receiving end of his “financial expertise,” if the Romeros were counting on him to be their money guy, they might be in for a rude awakening.

Tray in hand, she cut around the curved where stage a top-heavy brunette dressed in what supposedly passed for a Native American costume gyrated to the Cher tune, “Half-Breed.” She was stripping off her first Velcro layer as Mandy passed by on her way to the private room.

The three men were sitting down to a game of poker when she entered, a canopy of cigar smoke hanging over them like an atomic mushroom cloud.

Janice was already inside, pouring out pink champagne from a magnum-size bottle. Addressing herself to the suit, she said, “Mikey wanted you to know this is on the house.”

The beefy guy in the suit looked up from the cards he was shuffling and smiled, the expression making his squinted eyes all but disappear in his fleshy face. “Thanks, doll. You tell Mikey for me that I appreciate his hospitality. If he ever gets to Boston, he should look me up.” He reached into his inside suit pocket and tossed a twenty-dollar bill onto the table.

Great, fabulous, just what her cousin needed now that he was trying to turn his life around—a best buddy who was a Mafia hit man. Hoping her cousin’s new “friend” would be behind bars before too much longer, she let her gaze flicker to the other two men seated at the round table.

“Thanks, Mr. Tommy, you’re the best,” Janice purred. Leaning over him, she slid the bill into her change apron, letting her hand linger before slowly drawing it back out.

Oh, pull-eeze, don’t tell me men actually fall for that?
But sneaking a peek at the three rapt males, Lenny all but drooling onto the table, she saw apparently they did—hook, line and sinker.

Beckoning Mandy closer, Janice said, “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce Amy. She’ll be helping out tonight. Amy, this is Tommy, Danny and Lenny.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Praying they wouldn’t recognize her beneath the wig and caked-on makeup, Mandy advanced, mindful of the heavy tray balanced on the fingertips of her left hand. She’d done a stint as a waitress years ago, one in a long line of dead-end and short-lived jobs she’d tried before she’d found her calling as a cop. Balancing a tray was a lot like riding a bike—you might never forget how but you were bound to be wobbly at first.

Speaking to the suit Tommy, Janice said, “You let me know when you’re ready for that lap dance, okay?”

“Nothing personal, doll face, but it’s her I’d really like to do the tango with if you know I mean.”

Mandy froze. She looked up from the gin and tonic she’d just set down in front of Lenny and into Tommy’s eyes fixed on her breasts. “I’m not, uh…I’m not really much of a dancer.”

He frowned. “You think you’re too good for me, is that it?”

Janice intervened. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she gently nudged him back into his chair. “Easy, big guy, it’s Amy’s first night on the job. She’s just shy. She’ll warm up, you’ll see.”

“Well, she’d better get her ass un-shy and warmed up here pretty fast. I paid good money for this room.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show her the ropes.”

Janice leaned over him, a deliberate move, and he reached for her breasts. “These milk jugs of yours real?” He rolled one rouged nipple between his thumb and forefinger while the two other men looked on with hungry eyes.

Mandy swallowed hard, her face so hot she hoped her makeup wouldn’t melt. Modesty aside, if Tommy tried feeling her up like he was doing to Janice, he’d discover she was wearing a wire. That would spell the end of her sting operation and, more than likely, the end of her.

Janice shrugged. “What’s real? Reality’s overrated anyhow. Tonight’s all about fantasy.”

“You got a point there. Come back in a half hour, and we’ll talk about that lap dance.” He slapped her on the butt.

“You got it.” Sending Mandy a look that all but screamed, “Don’t fuck up,” Janice turned to leave.

Mandy started to follow her out, but Tommy’s beefy hand closed about her wrist. “Not you. You stay here and serve us. I think we’re going to need a lot of service before this night’s over, don’t you, gentlemen?” He glanced over to his two companions who nodded, grinning.

Knocking back his drink, Danny spoke up. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait for the tall, thin one with the fake boobs to come back.”

Lenny shook his pin head. “Not me. I like ’em with some meat on their bones and real tits, not fake ones.” Beckoning Mandy over, he said, “Come here, hon. I’ll bet anything that rack of yours is real.”

You ought to know, asshole, you certainly never lost out on an opportunity to feel me up when we were dating—even after you lost my money in the market.

Stepping out of reach, Mandy glanced to his highball glass, already two-thirds empty. “How about I make you another drink first?”

If Lenny was anything close to the lightweight she remembered from their dating days, he’d be out cold in another hour.

She caught Tommy the hit man staring at her again and looked quickly away.
Another hour, if only I can last that long, if only I can last.