The Waiting Game (Garvey Fields) (9 page)

BOOK: The Waiting Game (Garvey Fields)
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He looked me over, he was about six-one, and he looked like he ran a bit and maybe did some yoga.

“Okay you win, I'm not stupid.” He turned to the waiters, “get complimentary drinks for our guests, my apologies to everyone for the interruption, please accept our humble apologies, you will not be charged for your meals.”

There was a light smattering of applause. Phil wondered off towards the foyer.

“You goanna sit down?” she said with a voice that sounded familiar to me.

I sat down in Marley One’s chair and ogled his date.

“Okay drinks on me, because Marley was sitting with when he was being an ass.”

“You got any Spanish honey rum?” I said to the waiter who appeared without being called.

“Of course sir.”

“Can I have it in a tall class with a lot of ice and the juice of a whole lime?”

“Very good sir, madam?”

“Rum and coke please.” The waiter did an unnecessary bow and went off towards the bar area to collect the round of drinks.

She turned back to me, “New York’s full of surprises.”

“How so?”

“Spanish honey rum, you don’t look like you drink it.”

“You don’t look like you go on dates with jerks like that?”

“Touché. So how do you know Marley?”

“We only met last night. We didn’t exactly get along.”

“I can tell, “then she laughed, not so much at me, but it felt more like life entertained her.

“Give me the paper,” I said. In the melee she’d picked it up and put it in her bag, I wasn’t fooled by the angry face and false rage.

“I think you should practice some patience, we have plenty of time, you ever been in a film?”

“Not in this life time.”

“Me neither, I'm five-ten, can’t have me upstaging the leading man by looking him in the eye or being unable to pull me into his chest for that dramatic scene where he shows how weak women are. You get a lot of that reinforcement of male id, pathetic really.”

The waiter returned with our drinks, did some ridiculous flourish as he placed them on the table and went off towards a raised hand.

“Lady, as nice as your assessment of the film industry and the female character portrayal within it is I’d still like my paper back.”

“You sound stern like a cop and less of the lady stuff I’m only twenty-three.”

“I used to work for the D.A and I’d use your name if I knew it.”

“And I don’t know yours. Where’d you meet Marley?”

I sighed without meaning to, I wasn’t sure if she was playing a game or flirting. Maybe she was the blackmailer and liked playing games with men because of the film industry, I wasn’t sure of anything at the time. I listed to the music in the room, something was wrong with the singer’s voice.

“She’s trying too hard, needs to relax, probably got the headphone volume too high and can’t hear her voice properly.”

“Who?”

“Singer on the track,” I said pointing to the ceiling because I couldn’t see the speakers.

She looked at me more interested in me, “wow, I didn’t notice it and it’s my thing, I’ve been told I'm a good singer by those that should know. But you still haven’t really explained how you met Marley.”

I sighed again because I was tired of Marley One.

“I’m or was the head of security at Mayflower hotel, Marley One was staying with us and decided it was more fun upsetting every guest and resident with his friends and a young woman rather than sleep. So I put him on his ass and called him a cab.”

“Okay, so he was being himself…”

“Or what he was told to be.”

“Quite, and you were being right and proper in your act as the head of security.”

“All the worlds a stage, now my paper…”

“Your name.”

I took out my wallet and showed her my licence and passed her one of my business cards. I sipped my drink as she read it.”

“You have an original name. Garvey?”

“Yeah, like a grandiose field slave.”

“Where’d you work out off?”

“Mostly my apartment in Flatbush, I’ve been looking at a place at the Brooklyn Navel Yard.”

“What are you new to this?”

“Little bit, I went on a course.”

“Was it hard?”

“After this will you give me back my paper?”

She shrugged.

“I meet the age and education requirement for New York. I was at the D.As office for just over three years so I had the experience, in January I took the exam which was two and half hours long, paid my fifteen bucks exam fee, eighty-five bucks for fingerprints, signed a bunch of forms and gave the state another five hundred dollars because they said so.”

She smiled, reached across the table and dropped the scrunched up ball of paper into my hand.

“You know I have read what was written on it, but I’d like to.”

I smiled and she stood up to leave.

“Sit down,” I said a lot more aggressively than I meant to.

For brief moment she looked startled, then she sat down again, I leaned forward. “How well do you know Marley One?”

“Well enough to call him Marley and drop the One. We’ve been off and on for a few years; I did some backing for a couple of his earlier tracks when he was coming up, if it’s any of your business. I thought maybe I could get a little further myself with him, but you don’t just work with him if you know what I mean, so that wasn’t ever going to work, I don’t do work on my knees.”

“So you're not together?”

“Nope.”

“But you were drinking with him.”

She nodded and shrugged dismissively. “He’s opening the concert hall that they’ve just refurbished. He wanted to me to sing the hook on a few old tracks sort of as a warm up act. I said no but was letting him get me drunk so I would say yes, I need the money and few nights on his bill is worth some coin. The man who owns my contract owns this place too.”

“Contract for what?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a cheap escort. I still sing. Mainly lounges, small clubs in L.A sometimes, trying to get a little buzz going on the internet, but I’m bound to my contract for another year.”

“Mr Grover W. McKinley,” I said. “I hear he got a couple connections, might know where some bodies are buried but tries to stay clean and legit as much as he can. Never met him. Here you go, it won’t hurt.”

I rolled the crumpled paper to her, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Lucy Pearl.”

“Nice, I’ll look out for the name.”

She spread out the sheet of paper on the table and read, moving her lips as she did so. “Who ripped it up?”

“No idea. Best guess is Marley One. He must get a few of these if he pisses people off in every town he goes through. Probably don’t register anymore; I thought he’d have some security.”

“Not too many can put up with him, risk to their brand and the ones that would are likely to kill people if they look at him wrong. Anyway he probably thought it was a joke from one of the instrumentalists,” she said and passed me back the note.

“Well he puts himself in situations where it’s not hard to get to him. If a beautiful woman had a gun and wanted to kill him he’d probably welcome her into his bed.”

“Especially when women are involved, Achilles heel.”

“I have the same affliction,” I said and looked as deep into her eyes as I thought I could get away with.”

“Well some of us, with enough motivation, will put a bullet through your head whilst we’re riding you cowgirl.”

The bluntness stopped me for a minute, riding me cowgirl sounded nice.

“What you're thinking is all over your face.”

“I’d rather it be all over my…”

“Behave.”

“Fair enough.”

“I think McKinley could get Marley more protection than the police if he wanted it, but if he doesn’t he doesn’t, not my problem to worry about.”

“You know you're a little tough yourself?”

“Grew up in Detroit, you see shit and it makes you grow up before you should.”

I knocked my drink back and stood. “Thank you very much for the drink Miss Pearl, I look forward to hearing you sing.”

“What the hell, why are you so formal?”

“You take care of yourself Lucy.”

“Well you take care, and good luck with the whole private investigations thing. If I hear anything…”

I turned and walked away and kept on walking until I was driving down towards the ocean. Then I stopped and breathed out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3

 

 

M
y gym routine was mainly heavy weights which I liked to do in a corner with my top off as not to draw too much attention to myself. I sometimes met up with people for a session but today I wanted to be alone to grunt by myself and check out a woman that had been watching me work for the last few months.

She was a lawyer or lawyers clerk, I wasn’t quite sure which but I’d seen her in a business suit and she looked every part the sexy boss lady that you just wanted to overwhelm and bang the brains out of. If I slept with her easily I’d have to find a new gym, because I don’t do relationships with easy women.

I went for a run.

I finished my run and went over to the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir to cool down, it wasn’t the traffic jam of early morning joggers but a few had still come out run around the slow walking tourists and Manhattan moms. I found a bench, sat down, and turned up the Bob Marley
Exodus
and watched the wildlife. The sun was coming out, it was nice. I’d probably get a burrito on the way back to the apartment.
I tried to blank Lucy Pearl out of my head, but I wasn’t convinced by the whole singing thing. The fact that she was hot and could sing wasn’t enough. Not even a wealthy benefactor could guarantee anything.

The lawyer from the gym glided past me, interrupting my view of the lake and my thoughts. She said ‘good day’ as she passed and gave me a broad ‘I bet your dick is huge smile’. She was around my age, tall, toned, relaxed hair, Faith Evans complexion. Her ass was nice and round, which would do me nicely. I got to my feet and jogged after her ass.

I wasn’t particularly impressed with myself for figuring out she liked me, it wasn’t rocket science.  I’d get the relief of satisfying the selfish monster inside me that needed its ego fed regularly for fear wasting away.

I caught up with her, “hi.”

“Oh, hi.” She said back. “don’t I know you from the gym?”

And so the game began.

I’ve got her seated; legs open wide, one at the top and bottom of her couch. She groaned in pleasure for more of the same. She was real good and fair game too, both she and the couch were getting one hell of a pounding. She moaned into a throw cushion as I ploughed a furrow into her sweetness that was long as it was wide. I turned her around and bent her over the arm of the couch and return to work, her ass slapping against my thighs and pelvis. She was tight from Pilates or yoga, and soaking wet from me. I closed my eyes and concentrate on enjoying the feeling of new puss tight around my Johnson, as it contracted, squeezing and releasing me as my rod crushed its way in and out.

“Don’t you dare stop, oh yeah, right there, shit, yes, yes.” She commanded.

Without warning images of Lucy came to me, I kept my eyes closed, I was smashing Lucy. Lucy was tight and my soldier was diving in and out of her like a Mustang attacking a Messerschmitt. She was begging me to thrust harder, faster. I felt a sensation that told me was going to cum soon. I told Lucy and she told me to fill her up.

I opened my eyes and Lucy vanished. I held the jogger's hips more firmly, pulling and pushing her ass against me with strident power. Her groans became squeals as I rammed her, discharging all of my fury into every plunge. She reached her hand back, trying to claw at my stomach as I continued my unyielding attack on her sweet spot. I grabbed her arm by the wrist and pin it to her lower back and carry on. Her legs start to shake as she screamed loudly in pleasure and shouts that she was cumming; but I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop.

She tried to drop her ass, tried to escape the pounding she was receiving, but I pulled her back up with my other hand under her hips. I closed my eyes again and wilfully pictured Lucy hooked over the couch in my apartment. I burst hard inside the jogger, groaning out gibberish as my balls continue to pump themselves empty. Drained, I leaned over the jogger who was gasping for air just as hard as me. She turned her head, I think to kiss me, but I moved my head then stand and pulled out of her.

Don’t ask me why but I felt dirty, I just wanted to get out of this woman’s apartment. I went to the bathroom, tossed the Trojan in the trash, splashed some water on my face and stared at myself in the mirror.

Normally sex solves all of my issues, cleared my head, and rebooted the system. It’s like the demons flow out with semen. And what’s better than hard sex with hot stranger? It bugged me that I didn’t feel purged, I felt disgusted with the person looking back at me in the mirror. I left the bathroom and return to living room, the jogger was sitting naked on a love seat. She was gorgeous, with smooth skin, slender hips, bald pussy and healthy breasts with freckles. On any other day I’d have be ready for action right now and cursing that I didn’t have more rubbers. I told her I had a work engagement I was late for and pulled on my sweats. She followed me to the door, I expected she thought there was going to be a date, a future meeting, a phone call or something conventional, but I didn’t see myself sleeping with this woman

I’m felt sorry for Jane or was it Jemma, who didn’t deserve to be treated like a whore after taking a punt on a good looking stranger. I could smell sweat and Jane/Jemma’s sex on me as I jogged back to the Triumph.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4

 

 

I
went for a ride and got back to New York late night, Manhattan was all lit up along Fifth Avenue and I enjoyed weaving through what felt like a wall of sound produced by yellow cabs and police cars, nothing could bend around the traffic the way I could.

BOOK: The Waiting Game (Garvey Fields)
5.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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