I wouldn’t just get the twenty million I deserved, but I would get 250 million. I wouldn’t just have the money I had squirreled away in the offshore accounts. The world would clamor to give Scarlet Baxter her due.
Stu got dressed, as did I. When he got back in the driver’s seat and asked where to, I could feel the excitement of a new life on the horizon. By tomorrow night, I would be the sole owner of Dirk’s small empire. Love was one thing. Money was another thing completely.
“Rodeo Drive. I have some shopping to do.”
Chapter28
Distractions
On a rare night off,I drank some beers with four other guys from work at the Cherry Pie Gentleman’s Club. “She’s my Cherry Pie” played loud and proud as a dancer gyrated on the stage, top already off. Working for Dirk as his driver and bodyguard rarely gave me a night off, and I was looking for something more than beers at a bar with no chance of any action at all.
Wendy, our server, stopped by our table with the next round—Bud lights and tequila shots for everyone. Whoops and hollers from guys sitting by the stage competed with the music. She was new to the club, and it surprised me she wasn’t a dancer. In red go-go shorts and a tight red halter top that fit her perky tits perfectly, she looked good enough to eat. When she reached to place my drink beside me, I got an excellent view of her cleavage.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” I asked with a shout loud enough to be heard over the thundering music.
She smiled and shrugged. When she placed a hand on my forearm and leaned in so she could speak in my ear, the scent of jasmine and hyacinth tickled my nose.
“I’m just a college girl trying to pay tuition. I can’t do what the girls do in the Cherry Pit, so I’m stuck as a cocktail waitress.” She couldn’t whisper or I wouldn’t hear her. Even though she almost shouted, others at the table could not hear.
Her short brown hair brushed my cheek. She placed a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. Her flowery scent was more intoxicating than the beers she brought us. I had only drank three beers so far, but her presence made me tipsy.
“That’s too bad. I would have liked to see you on stage.”
She straightened up and I could sense her blushing. Her thin waist coupled with the curvy shape of her tits and ass gave her a slim figure with the natural curves of an athlete. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the club, but occasionally the light shined on her bright eyes, which appeared to be blue.
Time went by quickly and soon it was midnight. The place was crowded and the music and dancing went non-stop. We had talked about Iraq, work, sports, and girlfriends, or the lack thereof. We had all been in the lieutenant’s platoon in Iraq. Many of us had lost a friend there, a squad mate, and the bravery of LT or Sarge had saved each of us more than once.
Wendy stayed busy, keeping us well stocked with beers. She made eye contact or leaned in to ask me if I needed anything every time she came to our table. I appreciated the attention and felt my dick get hard more than once during the night from her touch. Most of the other guys had spent some time near the stage giving away one-dollar bills to get a closer look and graze some skin. I stayed put and the only thing I got was my beer and Wendy’s name.
With my job and the responsibilities I had as Dirk’s driver, I seldom had time for a relationship. My job required 24/7 attention. Tonight was a rare exception and Dirk had told me he had everything under control and there wouldn’t be an issue. That didn’t mean I could follow through on the thoughts that swept through my mind about Wendy, though.
I took it easy with the beer, just in case I got a text, and stopped after my sixth beer. The tequila shots were probably a bad idea, however. When midnight rolled around, I called it a night. I paid my tab and left a generous fifty dollar tip for Wendy. Dirk paid me well, and I didn’t get out much to spend my hard earned money.
Besides, Wendy looked like a hard-working girl. I figured she could use the extra money.
I headed to my Jeep Cherokee. A light rain was falling, and a thunderstorm rolled in from the ocean. I heard the car parked beside me trying to start. The ignition kicked in, but the engine never turned over.
When I looked through the passenger window, I noticed it was Wendy. She threw her head back, and I heard her muffled cry from inside her Kia Sportage. “Shit.”
I wrapped my knuckles on the passenger window and bent over so that she could see my face. The rain sounded like a metallic drum as it hit the roof of the cars in the parking lot. Rain dripped down my back after hitting the nape of my neck.
The passenger window went down halfway. “My piece-of-shit car won’t start.”
“You need a ride?”
“I can probably get an Uber. Just didn’t want to pay fifty dollars to get home.” She smiled weakly and then lay her forehead against the steering wheel.
“Where do you call home?”
“Brentwood. The Luxe Villas.”
“I can give you a ride. No sense wasting money on an Uber.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“At least tell me you’re not going out of your way.”
