Blindfolded Innocence

  “Brad, I have Coke for you. Julia, what can I get you to drink? I have tea, water and Coke.”

  “Water will be fine, thank you.”

  She turned and entered the kitchen, a lemon-yellow room with grayish-green linoleum just off the living area. I looked at Brad. He had settled into the only recliner in the room, already had the leg rest up, and was easing into the soft leather. He looked at me and grinned, a boyish look on his face.

  “Who is she?” I whispered, not wanting to piss off Mother Hubbard.

  “An old friend. Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.” At the sound of Brad’s voice, a series of high-pitched yelps came from a back room.

  Evelyn called from her place at the counter, “Brad, will you let out Mitzi and Richie?” Brad swung the recliner shut and heaved to his feet, a loud sigh escaping his lips.

  Evelyn carefully walked into the room, balancing a plastic tray on which she’d painstakingly placed three glasses, baby white napkins and a collection of lemon squares, sprinkled with powdered sugar. “Now, don’t you give me that! They’ve been waiting all morning to see you!”

  “Thanks, Evie,” Brad said, snagging a lemon square and heading down a side hall. She set the tray down on the coffee table and looked at the recliner, still rocking slightly, embroidered pillows squashed in the seat. “That boy! Creates a mess everywhere he goes....” She gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed the pillows, fluffing them and setting them aside, a small smile on her lined face.

  “Have you lived here long?” I asked, leaning forward and picking up my ice water and a napkin.

  She settled into the love seat kitty-corner to me, and looked upward, her face furrowed in concentration. “Why, about eleven years I guess. Moved in here when this was the only house on this street. Now look at it, all grown up and crammed together.” Her reflection was cut off by a stampede of tiny clicks. Two dachshunds burst into view, fighting each other around the corner and jumping on me as if I was a new toy.

  “Richie! Mitzi! Get down!” scolded Evelyn, reaching forward and smacking their butts. “That is no way to greet a guest!” Brad came in and collapsed again on the recliner, which creaked a bit in protest. The dogs seemed intent on covering me with kisses, and I moved to the floor so that they could have easier access to play. The girl dog immediately ran off and brought me a pink chew toy, and I began to play tug-of-war with her. Silence fell.

  “Now, Bradley, business first. What is going on with the club?”

  Brad closed the recliner and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, gaze level on Evelyn. “The club is strong. Covers are increasing due to cross-promotion with area casinos. We have a new marketing program geared at bachelor parties and have had a twenty percent increase in group events since last year. The—”

  “How much is the marketing program costing? The bachelor one, I mean.”

  “About three percent. So the twenty percent increase is more than covering it.”

  “And the girls? Why did Vicky leave?”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  “Are we covering her health expenses through the birth?”

  “If she returns within two months.”

  “Make it three. Brad, you don’t know what it’s like for a new mother.”

  He grinned. “No, I don’t. Neither do you.”

  She waved that off. “What about Harmony—she left, too.”

  “Heather was into drugs—we caught her twice at the club. Told her to leave them or us. She chose them, and she’s at Painted Horse now.”

  The old woman harrumphed and sat back. “Okay, then, I guess it’s under control.”

  “Janine is supposed to be having weekly calls with you regarding all this. Has she not been calling you?”

  “You know me—I don’t like the phone. I like this better, face-to-face. Besides, I’m not crazy about Janine. Too stiff and numbers-oriented.”

  “Which is exactly why I hired her. Those girls will walk all over someone if they don’t keep a distance. And I don’t recall you complaining about the numbers last quarter.”

  She grinned and patted his leg. “I know, Brad. I just have to keep tabs—you know that. It makes me feel useful. Gives me something to think about.”

  I played with the dogs in silence, eavesdropping, my mind digesting the new information and what it meant—Brad owned Saffire. Why was I not surprised? Richie, the male dachshund, started humping my bare foot. Ewww. I moved it away from him but he followed, his tongue hanging out and his eyes buggy. I sat cross-legged and tried waving the rubber toy in his face.

  “You been getting the deposits?”

  “Yes, honey. Like clockwork on the first.”

  “Why don’t you get out of this place, move to one of those active senior living places?”

  “You say that every visit, and my answer hasn’t changed. I like it here. This is home. I’ll stay here till they carry me away in a coffin. You know that.”

  “Julia.”

  I looked up, caught off guard by Evelyn’s beckon.

  “Yes?”

  “We’ve been awfully rude, dear, talking business. Tell me about yourself. How did you and Bradley meet?”

  Brad answered the question for me. “Julia is an intern at my office.”

  “Oh.”

  Her “oh” said volumes and I arched my brow at Brad.

  “It’s not like that, Evie. Julia and I are friends, nothing more. She is Broward’s intern, not mine.” Kind of not like that. Sort of exactly like that.

  “I wasn’t judging you, dear.”

  Sure she wasn’t. “How did you two meet?” I said, trying to steer the conversation anywhere but where it was currently headed.

  “Oh, Bradley helped me with my first divorce.”

  “And your second,” Brad reminded her.

  “Hush now, Brad! No need to air all my dirty laundry! I just met this nice girl.”

  “Are you married now?” I had looked around for evidence of a man, children or grandchildren, but couldn’t find evidence of anyone but her and the dogs.

  “Oh, no, dear. I learned after the second one that men and me don’t mix. I can only see the good, and they can only see the bad.”

  “I didn’t think you practiced law in Nevada,” I said to Brad.

  “I am licensed here, but don’t make a habit of taking on cases. In Evie’s case, I’d represented her sister in a big suit back home. Once Evie’s marriage took a bad turn, her sister asked if I would represent Evelyn.”

  “And no one can say no to Ruth,” Evelyn sniffed.

  “And that was, what, eleven years ago?” Brad asked.

  “Yes, thank you for making me feel old. Eleven years ago. And Julia, this man has been driving me crazy ever since! Why I let him come by and visit me is a mystery.” Brad grinned at me and I fought against the urge to smile back. The man was so damn charming it was criminal.

  “Evelyn, when are you visiting Ruth next?”

  “Thanksgiving, I suppose. Haven’t heard from her yet, but she came here last year, so I’ll probably go there. Will you join us for supper?”

  “I would never pass up your turkey and dressing. As long as I’m not a burden, I’ll be there.”

  “Julia, do you live with your family?”

  “Ah—no. My family is in Georgia. I live with roommates—other college students.” Brad listened closely. I realized this was the most he had heard about my background.

  “What do your parents do?” This seemed to be of high importance to her.

  “My mother is a nurse. My father is retired. He was a science professor at UGA—the University of Georgia.”

  “A bulldog.”

  I grinned. “Yes. You don’t want to see our home. The only theme Mom decorated in is red, white and black.” br />
  “Well, my first husband, scoundrel that he was, was an Alabama fan. Now I root for anyone else in the SEC.”

  “You didn’t win his season tickets in the divorce?” I said with a straight face.

  “Honey, what can I say? I guess my attorney wasn’t as good as his.”

  We looked at each other, and at Brad, and laughed.

  After two helpings of lemon squares and three rounds of ice water, we rose to leave. Richie had finally abandoned my foot and I had finally endeared myself to Evelyn, and her to me. We all hugged in the foyer. Evelyn, clasping Brad with both hands, seemed on the verge of tearing up.

  “I’ll be back in about six weeks. Will you come and stay at Bellagio? I can send Leonard with the car.”

  She waved her hand irritably. “I guess. You know I hate going to that godforsaken city. And don’t send Leonard in that big car! A normal town car is all I need.”

  “Deal. I’ll take you to see Mystère.”

  “I don’t want to see those double-jointed Cirque freaks. Celine Dion?”

  “Only for you, Evie.”

  “You know they say this year is her last!”

  “I’ve been hearing that from you for four years now. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “Well, behave yourself. And drive carefully in that death trap!”

  She gave him another quick hug and turned to me. “Oh, wait!” she cried, throwing up her hands and running to the kitchen as fast as her old lady hips would take her. “I almost forgot. I packed you some sandwiches and drinks.” She returned carrying a small blue cooler with “Taylor” printed on the side of it. “There are some other snacks in there, too. Don’t you worry about that cooler—you keep it or throw it away. I’ve got plenty.” She passed Brad the cooler and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thank you, Evie.”

  “Can’t let you kids get hungry. Julia, will I see you again?”

  I hesitated. Chances of me and Brad making another run to Vegas? I hadn’t even figured out what would happen when we returned home. Whether I would be smart or foolish. Follow my head or my libido. I realized an awkward silence was imminent and spoke quickly. “No, Evelyn, I think this is it. This was a onetime trip.”

  She surveyed me wisely, her brows set. She leaned forward and hugged me tightly. Whispering, so soft I almost didn’t hear, she said, “You be careful. That man is a big hole to fall into.” Don’t I know it. She pulled back and squeezed my shoulders merrily. “Now, you guys leave! I got a lot of stuff to do today and can’t be watching after you two all day long!”

  I got in my red beast, Brad in his blue one. He set the cooler on the seat next to him. He pulled out first and I followed, both of us waving and honking our horns at the tiny blue-haired lady on the little front porch of the house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Twenty-Four

  The day had gotten hot. I blasted the air on high and cursed the Dodge designers who’d put black leather in the car, the hot material burning my ass and legs. I couldn’t even imagine being in shorts; my jeans were barely protecting me as it was. The highway was flat and narrow, just two lanes. Beautiful and quiet scenery flew by, mountains on one side and valleys with water on the other. “Back in Black” by AC/DC blared and I put on my sunglasses and let my hair flip in the wind, feeling like the ultimate badass. Barely out of the city limits, we came to a sign for the Hoover Dam and followed a long, curving road up. The Viper’s engine roared and the car felt glued to the road as we whipped up the curves. I loved shifting high and low and feeling the vibration and the power beneath me.

  We finally arrived at the dam. We avoided the parking garage and continued up the road, driving until we came to an overlook point. Every bad “dam” joke crossed my mind as we parked and walked to the railing. There was a mist coming up from the water, and I felt it hit my face as I leaned over the rail. Brad leaned over also, then stopped as the railing shifted a bit under his weight. We laughed and he stepped back a few steps before moving behind me and putting his hands on my waist, squeezing me. “Want to go on the tour?” he asked.

  “No...unless you want to. I’m not really a tour-type girl.”

  “Sounds good to me. Want to eat lunch out here?”

  “Depends.... How good is Evelyn’s cooking?”

  “It’s hit-or-miss. Let’s see what she packed.”

  We opened the cooler. It was jammed full. If we got stranded out here, we’d be set. She had chicken and egg salad sandwiches, raw carrots, sliced apples, three bags of chips, baby brownie bites and grapes. She had also packed three bottled lemonades.

  “Good—chicken salad she does well. Let’s eat here.”

  We sat on the warm hood of Brad’s car, the cooler in between us, and ate looking out on the view. That high up, there was a nice breeze, and it felt just about perfect.

  “So,” I said, munching on a raw carrot, “tell me the full scoop on Evelyn. You guys are, like, business partners in Saffire?”

  He finished chewing a bite of sandwich and set it down on the car. “Evelyn’s first husband was a surgeon. They lived in a big house, up in the Hills. When they divorced, she got a substantial amount of cash, enough to buy the house you saw today, plus had a bit left over.”

  “What’s a bit?” I couldn’t help it. I was nosy.

  He raised an eyebrow at me, then shrugged. “Two hundred grand, maybe a little more. Around that time I was looking at opening a club in Vegas. I approached Evelyn, asked if she wanted to go in as a minority partner. She had been looking at different investments at that time, CDs, bonds, et cetera. I convinced her that her money would be better served at Saffire.”

  “A strip club? You convinced that little old lady that she should put her life savings in a strip club? What if it went belly-up?”

  He stared at me. “I’m not out to swindle old ladies out of their pensions. If the club had flopped, I would have covered her loss. We own the building—there are actual assets tied to her money. Plus, I don’t see anyone complaining about the return Saffire has done. That ‘little old lady’ has more than ten times her original investment now sitting in the bank.”

  “And she owns what percentage?”

  “Thirty.”

  “You own seventy?”

  “Sixty. I gave Janine ten percent.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll learn in business that no one runs the company like the owner does. That ten percent ensures she stays honest and doesn’t look for another job. Janine is strong. The dancers like her, the clients like her and I like her.”

  “You ever slept with her?”

  “Why do you seem to ask me that with every woman we meet?”

  “I didn’t ask you that with Evelyn.”

  “Maybe you should have.”

  I recoiled and wrinkled my nose, scooting a little farther away from him on the hood. He laughed through his sip of lemonade.

  “No, I haven’t slept with Janine. She’s too hard for me. I don’t go for the muscular look.”

  “So that’s why you haven’t slept with her—because her body type isn’t for you, not because you think that it’d be a bad idea to screw your business partner.”

  He fixed his dark brown eyes on me and reached forward, gently wiping some mayonnaise from my lip. I pushed his hand away in irritation, trying to ignore the full-body tingle that occurred whenever he touched me.

  “I wouldn’t have chosen a business partner or manager that I was attracted to. I know my strengths. Staying away from good-looking women isn’t one of them.” He shot me a sly look. “But then again, you seem to suffer from the same problem.”

  I shot him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  He leaned back on his hands and stretched his neck, looking at me through thick lashes. “You know...last night—you and Monta
na.”

  I sat there for a moment, trying to sort through the drunken haze of memories. I vividly remembered the tour of the club with Montana. Then us getting to the table and Brad being gone. Then... I frowned, trying to remember. We were going to do shots, tequila shots. She had to ask permission. Then... Oh my God. My eyes widened as I had a brief memory of Montana’s mouth on my bare breasts—us kissing, and guys, lots of guys, their faces surrounding us, staring. Brad’s included. I slumped down on the hood, lying back, my hand covering my face. “Oh, God,” I moaned, mortified. “It’s, what—one o’clock? And you’re just now mentioning this to me?”

  He laughed and leaned over me, pulling my fingers back, exposing my pained eyes. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. Trust me—Saffire has seen a lot crazier, though we typically try to keep that behavior out of the club.”

  I groaned miserably, closing my eyes. “What was I thinking?”

  “You weren’t—the tequila was.” His hand moved from my face down, sweeping over my breast, playing with the exposed skin between my shirt and the top of my jeans. “Besides, I liked watching you.”

  “With Montana?”

  “Yes. You, in your element, having fun and being turned on by her touch. It drove me crazy watching you, surrounded by that crowd, the men watching.” He pulled gently at my skin, gripping me. “You are very sexy, Julia.”

  I blushed and moved his hand, sitting up and tossing my hair dramatically. “I am quite sexy, it’s true.”

  He laughed and looked skyward, rolling his eyes. “Oh...the ego.”

  “Where were you before that? You weren’t at our table when we got back.”

  He looked away, out over the dam. “I was with Alexis.”

  “Getting a dance?”

  “Sort of.”

  I tossed my half-eaten carrot at him, which he blocked easily. “God, you are a pig. No wonder you’ve been such a ‘gentleman.’”

  He looked at me carefully, taking a small sip of lemonade. “You mad?”

  “No. Just understand that my drunken playtime with Montana was due to me being left unattended. When the cat’s away...” I grinned mischievously at him and took another bite of carrot.