Cold Fusion Read online

  “I could drive—” Lightning immediately followed by thunder contradicts me. We’re not going anywhere for a while.

  I listen to Slider’s voice of reason, put the disks back in their box, and let Slider check that the room is precisely as we found it. When we finish locking up, there’s not much left of Suzy’s candle. We make use of the little time left to put the belt back on Zach’s pants. We’re just in the nick of time too because he starts stirring.

  Suzy blows out the candle as he asks, “What the fuck happened?”

  “First you went out cold on me,” Suzy says, “and now the power’s out. But I think I can still make you see the light!”

  Slider and I sneak out of the room, leaving the door open. I think he’s with me on this one—there are some things we don’t want to witness, even in the dark!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mimi comes around on Friday night, twenty minutes before show time. I’m at the door when she arrives, and I don’t even try to hide how glad I am to see her. The feeling’s not mutual.

  She doesn’t return my smile when she growls, “Happy now?”

  I can’t help but grin. God, she’s even hotter when she’s mad! Following her as she marches in, I play dumb and say, “What’s the matter?”

  “Right, you have no idea why I’m mad. Don’t tell me you didn’t purposely scare the manager of my restaurant to get me fired!”

  She looks so upset that I feel a bit guilty. But not enough to offer to go intimidate the man into giving her her job back. I put on my best innocent look and turn up my hands. That sends her into a fit of rage.

  She stops and turns toward me, jabbing her finger into my chest. “Next you’re gonna tell me that those weren’t your guys following to every single interview and making sure no one else hired me.”

  I bite my lips to hide the smile that’s likely to pop on my face. Good for Slider. I like a man who makes sure he gets his way, ’specially when his way could make one of my fantasies come true. I’ll get to see her every day and show her what a nice guy I really am.

  She glares at me, and all I want to do is hug her to bits. Instead, I grab her hand and bring it to my lips.

  She jerks it away as if I’ve bitten her. “What’s with you?”

  “Mimi, I swear to you, I didn’t intimidate anyone but that pretentious man at the hotel.”

  “Well, if not you, then those were goons of yours,” she says.

  “I claim sole responsibility for their actions,” Slider says, cutting in.

  She turns around to face him, and I’m happy she’s no longer directing her anger at me.

  “I’ll take the job under three conditions,” she says after taking a deep breath to calm herself.

  Slider looks around to check that no one is within earshot. When he’s sure Vic, the barman, is nowhere to be seen, he invites Mimi to speak with a movement of the head.

  “First, I don’t do lap dances.”

  Slider nods, raising his shoulders as if he’d never expected that of her.

  “Second, I’m out of here by midnight no matter what.”

  Slider shakes his head sideways and pucker his lips.

  “And third, you actively keep looking for a replacement, because on September first at the latest, I’m out of here.”

  “I’ll sure look for a way to replace you as soon as possible, but while you’re here, you’ll need to stay later than midnight on Fridays and Saturdays.”

  Mimi frowns. “Fine.” Then she struts toward the dressing room, waving at the barman.

  Vic’s wheeling in a beer keg and yells, “Welcome back, Starla.”

  The man badly needs glasses. Mimi has at least thirty or forty pounds on her sister. Where Josette’s ass was bony, Mimi’s is luscious and—fuck, I already have a boner just from looking at her walk away.

  “Get a grip, man, or you’re gonna lose it when she comes on stage.” Slider snickers. I look at him sideways, and Slider slaps my back real hard, laughs, and says, “Not your boner, man, your cool.” Then he leaves me with my frustration to help Vic with the keg.

  I walk outside for a bit of fresh air. Well, it’s not actually fresh—it’s hot and muggy—but I need to clear my head. My hard-on subsides as I try to come up with a way to get that stupid floppy before Zach and his partners return and realize someone’s messed with their computer.

  Sally arrives in the death trap she calls her car and comes up to me with a big smile. I give her a hug and mess up her hair. I’ve been treating her like a substitute for Lisa, since I know Slider’s got dibs on her. She’s cute, but she doesn’t hold a candle to Mimi.

  Crap, whatever I try to think about, my mind always returns to Mimi.

  Sally mock-punches me. “Is Slider here already?”

  “Yeah, he was helping Vic a minute ago,” I tell her.

  “Cool,” she says as she passes me.

  “Hey, Sally, Mimi’s here too,” I say.

  “Oh, I’m happy Slider talked her into coming back!”

  “Well—we kinda forced her hand—”

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” she says. “No one has ever forced Mimi to do anything she didn’t want to do, not even Josette standing on the ledge of a tenth-floor window.” She doesn’t elaborate before she scoots inside.

  I follow her in. It’s dinnertime for the mosquitoes, and unlike Mimi, they think I’m the sweetest thing around.

  I hang around the bar waiting for the show to begin. I’ve never been so anxious. I’m like a kid on Christmas morning who sort of knows what’s in the package under the tree but still needs to find out if it’s precisely what he wants. I have no doubt Mimi has everything I want and all in the right places, but I want to see what she’s like with the wrapping off. The only drawback is that all these other guys will get to look at her as well. But I have an advantage—I get paid to slap around anyone who tries to get frisky with her.

  The bar starts to fill in with a huge crowd. The upcoming spring weddings are bringing in the wild bachelor parties, and this Friday is no exception. The guys in the party aren’t very much younger than me, but I can’t help but feel that I’m a lot more mature than them. They look as if they’ve never had to care about anything more than getting good grades and keeping their parents happy. Heck, they make me feel downright ancient.

  I shake away that stupid nostalgic feeling about the carefree youth that could have been mine if a drunk driver hadn’t killed my father. No use dreaming about what might have been. I don’t regret a single day I spent taking care of Lisa nor my time in the Army with Brian.

  The Rawhide theme that announces the beginning of Sally’s cowgirl routine derails my train of thoughts. I watch the crowd while she does her number. The young guys are more vocal but much rowdier than our usual clients. That may change at any time because they’re downing shots as if drinking’s going out of style. Sally gets a lot of “yeehaws,” but the kids are behaving.

  Slider’s standing close to one side of the stage. His gaze flies from Sally to the young men, and every single time one of them slips her a bill, he cringes. She ends her number with a flourish of applause and cat calls. Sally bows low, which makes her breast jiggle in a cute way, and when she stands back up, she blows Slider a kiss. His face remains neutral, but I can almost feel his relief as she vanishes from the stage.

  It must be really hard to watch the woman you have the hots for get undressed in front of a bunch of other guys. It takes me about one minute to understand that “hard” doesn’t even begin to describe it. Fuck, it’s pure hell!

  My hands clench into fists as Mimi steps on stage. It takes all my willpower not to thrash through the crowd, cover her up, and take her backstage. Her number starts slow. Mimi steps toward the pole, dressed in white. It’s a Sunday-best white dress with lace, somewhere between an old-fashioned first communion dress and a bridal dress. Everything about her screams that she’s pure and innocent.

  Her eyes are cast down and her hands joined in front of her
. There’s no music. What’s playing is some sort of outdoor sound track—a river and birds and maybe wind in the branches—but then the music hits, and it’s hard metal. She tears away the dress and reveals a light pink corset, white stockings, and a garter belt. She wraps herself around the pole and dances in such a lascivious way that I want to take an ax to that stupid pole.

  By the time she starts untying her corset, I’m hard as a rock, and I have to look away. I take a few deep breaths and remember that the whole point of me being there is to make sure the talent is safe. I force myself to look back at the stage. Mimi is strutting around the podium, crouching in front of the group of young men, and I only realize how clenched my jaw is when I catch Slider’s gaze. He still standing on the other side of the podium, and he’s observing me with an ironic expression. Yeah, right. Now I get it. I won’t make fun of him anymore.

  When Mimi’s done with her number, I realize that if his classes are as good as he says, I desperately need to take some of Brian’s Dom training courses. I’m going to need all the self-control I can muster and then some if I have to watch Mimi do that every single night and twice on Saturdays.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Saturday night is worse than Friday night, but I get to let out some steam because the Bush Fire has two bachelor parties, and they go a bit crazy. Punching one nasty, aggressive, entitled drunk makes me feel a lot better.

  Mimi finishes her last round at midnight, and Slider lets her go. It’s pouring out, and the crowd is thinning. I check that Slider is by the bar before I walk her to her car. She’s swapped her fuck-me pumps for plastic boots, and I still think she looks hot as hell!

  I carry a very large umbrella in one hand, and under the pretense of making sure she doesn’t slide on the muddy asphalt, I hold her waist until we reach her car. She doesn’t pull away. She even leans into me a couple of time, and her curves feel just right molding against my side.

  She opens the driver’s door under the protection of the umbrella and turns to face me. Mimi’s a little smaller than me in flats and has to tilt her face to look me in the eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

  I simply blink and wait for her to elaborate.

  “The girls told me you were great with Toussaint,” she says.

  I smile. “I like your nephew. He’s a good kid.”

  “They also say you actually tried to help Josette.”

  I nod.

  “You chased away some of her pushers?”

  I nod again.

  “And you weren’t even sleeping with her.” The end of the phrase is somewhere between a question and an affirmation, and her voice is almost a whisper.

  I lose myself in her chocolate-brown eyes and answer her indirect question.

  “No, I think a woman should have a lot of flesh on her bones.” I slowly cradle her face and caress her lower lip with my thumb. “I was never interested in your sister. But I really like you. I find you much more…” I shake my head because I’m afraid to scare her away. “You’re the most beautiful and desirable woman I’ve ever met.”

  She lowers her eyes as if she’s embarrassed by my confession, or to ponder what to do next, then stands on her toes to kiss me. She aims for my cheek, but I see her coming, and I slide my hand to her neck while I tilt my face. Her lips land on mine, and they’re softer than I imagined. I nibble on her lip, and her mouth opens as she welcomes me in. She’s so sweet that I curse the rain. She shivers, and I want to pull her against me to give her my warmth, but I’m holding this stupid umbrella. As if reading my mind, she leans against me, fisting my T-shirt and sliding her other hand under my leather jacket.

  I step backward, and with my back on the side of the car, I nudge the umbrella between the roof and the open door of her car. My hands reach for her butt. I pull her legs up, and she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. She’s all but grinding against me, and if she keeps this up, I’m gonna come in my pants! I slide one hand under her T-shirt and free one breast from her bra.

  Some drunken voice yells, “Get a room.”

  Before I have time to react, Mimi lets go and slides into her car. She’s flustered and so pretty that I don’t want to let her go. I want to drag her back inside and borrow the bastards’ playroom. But she deserves better than a quickie between two doors. So I raise the handle of the umbrella and lean over to brush her lips with mine.

  She smiles, starts her car, and says “Good night, David.”

  She closes the car door, and I watch her pull away with a stupid grin on my face. Yeah, she likes me! I wish I had someone to high five. I miss Lisa and Brian. Slider’s okay, but he keeps his cards much too close to the vest. Poor guy—that must have become second nature with his undercover assignment.

  After she’s done her last tour, I walk Suzy to her car. Then I patiently wait for a possible new blonde to do her number for what’s left of the Saturday-night crowd. She’s pretty good actually. She manages to perk up the interest of some old-timers who usually have the attention span of a goldfish. When she’s done, she follows Slider upstairs.

  It’s time for Sally to go home.

  “He’s with her?” Sally asks when we reach her car.

  I raise an eyebrow because I’m not sure what she’s asking.

  “The blond bitch, the one he’s auditioning as a replacement for Kitten,” she says, sounding exasperated. “That’s his ex. She’s trying to get him back.”

  “I think you’re pretty safe. As far as I can tell, the man’s nuts about you. Every time you go on stage, he grinds his teeth so hard I’m afraid he’s gonna break his jaw!”

  The sad look vanishes from her face, and she smiles as though I’ve just made her day. She gets settled in her car and pulls on my jacket to make me lean over. When I do, she gives me a kiss, a light brush on the corner of the lips.

  “You’re a sweet man, David,” she says before pushing me out of the way of the car door. “If I was a smart woman, I would go after you.”

  “And if you weren’t spoken for, I’d let you, sweetheart!”

  My answer makes her laughs as she closes the door.

  If I were a smart man, I would go after her. Hooking up with Sally would be less complicated than going after Mimi, but what do I know about her anyway? Maybe Sally’s saddled with worse than a junkie sister and a kid nephew. When I walk back into the club, Slider’s standing by the door and looks at me funny.

  “What was that about?” he asks.

  “That was Sally thanking me for telling her not to worry about your ex applying for the job,” I say lightly.

  Slider frowns. “How did she find out?” he mutters more to himself.

  Women talk. I want to say that, but he knows it better than I do.

  A few hours later, I’m happy they do. At nine in the morning, my phone rings and jolts me awake. There’s a young boy in me who has yet to deal with his fear of middle-of-the-night calls. His fears aren’t unreasonable. Those calls never bring good news. I break out in a cold sweat before I realize it’s not the middle of the night for people on a normal schedule.

  “Yes,” I grumble, trying to sound civilized.

  “David, it’s Pat.”

  My mind is absolutely blank, then I remember. Patricia, the nurse, the hospital. “Josette?” I ask.

  “Yes, about an hour ago. Her sister’s a wreck,” she says apologetically. “The kid gave me your number. He said you had told him to call if he ever needed you.”

  “You did good, Patricia. Thank you for calling. I’ll be right over.”

  She gives me the room number and tells me they’ll wait for me before they take Josette down to the morgue.

  On the drive there, my heart goes out to both of them. What a wreck I would be if I lost Lisa or Brian. And Toussaint, I never got around to asking about his father. At least he has Mimi. How weird it will be for him to live with the reminder of what his mother could have been if she hadn’t been a junkie. Probably as weird as it is for me to look at my uncle Ant
hony and know what my father would look like if he were alive.

  That’s when it dawns on me. How weird is it for my mother to live next door to Uncle Tony? What does she thinks every time she sees him? Does she ever imagine he’s Dad? Does she ever feel jealous of Nancy? I feel like an insensitive jerk for never having thought about this before.

  The sky is grey. There’s thunder and lightning but no rain. The air is charged with electricity. Fireworks to welcome Josette to the next world.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Two men with a gurney are standing by the door of the hospital room when I arrive.

  “Give me a few minutes,” I tell them.

  They nod silently. What a sorry job they have.

  I knock on the open door before I enter. It’s a double room, but the other bed is empty. The hospital staff must have moved the other patient. Mimi is sitting on one side of her sister’s bed, holding her hand. She’s talking to Josette in Créole. The words don’t mean anything to me, but her tone is desperate, as if Mimi is begging for forgiveness. She talks fast. Is she telling Josette all the things she never had the chance to say when she was still alive?

  Josette wasn’t an easy person to talk to. On good days, she was high as a kite and unable to comprehend what anyone said. On bad days, she was down in the dumps and wouldn’t listen to anyone.

  Toussaint kneels on a chair on the other side of the bed, his head on his mother’s tummy and his arms around her waist. He opens his puffy eyes when he hears me come in, but he doesn’t move. I put my hand on Mimi’s shoulder and startle her. She hadn’t heard me come in.

  “She’s gone.” Her face is covered with tears.

  I stand behind her with a hand on each of her shoulders.

  “She looks so peaceful now,” Mimi says, and she’s right.

  Death has wiped away the tension from Josette’s face, and she looks rested, skeletal but almost carefree. I nod, which is stupid since Mimi can’t see me.