Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com)
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com)
chapter
ONE
There I was on a Saturday night, dressed up in Prada and ready to go out, to our new favorite club in
the Meatpacking District when the phone rang. It was my friend Sybil, very contrite, to say that she
was down with a nasty cold and really could not make it out. And that I was welcome to come over
and share her chicken soup and her germs but she was planning on bed before the A crowd would even
arrive at the velvet ropes. So my choices were to stay home and watch reruns or hunt. I'd already seen
everything in the latest Netflix order and I was already dressed. And I just didn't want to look at the
stack of dishes in the kitchen sink or admit to wasting forty minutes on my makeup.
So hunt it was.
A convention is always easy hunting. Like any New Yorker, I don't like the invasion from out of state,
gawkers who stand in the middle of the sidewalk staring up at the high buildings and blocking traffic,
to say nothing of display windows. The out-of-towners are so wary, watching their wallets and their
keys and trying to look behind their backs-but they never worry about me when I show up.
I took a taxi to a hotel near the Port Authority with a scuzz factor to match the address. The lobby and
bar were crowded with bored-looking men in Arrow polyester shirts and bad toupees. Old Spice
overlaid but did not mask the scent of disinfectant and I had to resist the impulse to gag.
They turned to look at me. They always do. I am a succubus, and they can't help it. But I knew that
my clothes were way over the top for this crowd. Suddenly I was tired and depressed and thought the
reruns looked appealing after all. Then I spotted my prey.
I don't make the judgment calls, I just deliver the goods. That's the way I think about the job. But like
everyone else, I'm trying to make the world a little nicer, a little safer, so I choose men who make
it...less nice. There he was, sitting at the bar, hooting and leering and whistling when I entered. He did
it again when another woman made the mistake of passing the doors and that decided me. I walked
over to him and leaned against the faux leather edging and tried to get the bartender's attention.
I ordered a Jack Daniel's. Somehow with these guys, that seems to indicate that I'm available and not
quite respectable. I always order Jack Daniel's but I never drink it, and it did the trick again. Before I
could get the change from the twenty into my wallet he was all over me.
"Hey baby, come here often?" he asked.
And that clinched his fate. I hate to be called baby, hate it more than almost anything else. Then, to
seal it in stone, he reached around and fondled my ass. Yes, the women of the world could definitely
do without him.
I smiled. "What's your name? Where are you from?" They always talk about themselves and never
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com)
notice that they hear nothing about me. They think that they fascinate me and they've thought it for
thousands of years. And for nearly that long they have been my prey, my mission.
His name was Brad and he was from...someplace that wouldn't miss him. Suddenly I was bored and
wanted it over. No use playing the game, luring the prey, making it appear that I had to be caught and
seduced and that I was overwhelmed with his charm. Or charisma. Or whatever. "Shall we go
upstairs?" I asked when he paused to breathe.
And then he blushed and looked at the condensation on the bar. "I, ummm, well, my friend said we
could save money on our per diem if we shared a room and he's a serious Christian and friendly with
the boss...could we go somewhere else?"
"We could go to my place." I hate taking them to my place.
He followed me out and lit a cigarette as soon as he cleared the door. Then he balked when I hailed a
cab. "I don't think that's covered in my per diem," he said, fingering his wallet. Cheap to boot. I
sighed. "I'll take care of it," I said. I'd hit the trifecta: called me baby, cheap, and a smoker. The only
good thing about this evening was where he was going and that he was going there as fast as I could
manage.
My doorman noted that I'd returned, and with someone in tow. He looked away as I dragged Brad
into the elevator and then into my bedroom.