Geek Mafia: Mile Zero (14 page)

Hopefully Eddie and his pals would notice soon.

Sipping her drink, she looked up at the shelf above the bar, picking out the bottle with the camera in it. There was no way she was going to get up there and adjust its position without being noticed, and she couldn't think of any way of getting the bartender to move it. She could ask to see it, and he might even get it down for her, but when he put it back it would be pure luck as to which way it ended up facing. She decided to leave it be.

As she finished her drink, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Can I buy your next round?" asked Eddie, who had snuck up behind her. She might have been surprised if she hadn't been waiting for it.

She turned around to face him. He smiled a shit-eating grin as he leered down at her. To his credit, he looked her in the eyes for three whole seconds before his gaze found its way to her tits. Chloe gave him a long, exaggerated examination, looking him up and down.

"You're buying?"

"I sure am," he told her chest. Then, to her face. "Whatever you're selling."

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Chloe laughed, wondering if a line like that ever worked for him with a girl that wasn't trying to con him. "I'm drinking vodka tonics," she said, and pointed to the bartender. "He's the one doing the selling."

Eddie leaned against the bar and gave it a slap, his eyes never leaving her. "Two Ketel One and tonics," he said, upgrading her drink and, she assumed, trying to impress her.

"I'm Leo," he said.

"Is that your name or your sign?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, it's both. My parents didn't have much imagination."

"I'm supposed to watch out for Leos," she said. "We're not compatible."

"Ahhh," said Eddie, "But I don't believe in astrology, so it's ok."

She forced out a laugh that didn't sound forced at all. "I don't either," she said. The only true thing she planned to tell him tonight. "I'm Gillian. Nice to meet you, Leo."

"And what's your sign?" he asked as the drinks arrived.

"I thought you didn't believe in astrology."

"I don't, but I do believe in destiny," he said, handing her a drink.

"Really? And what's my destiny?" she asked, cocking her head a bit to the side and ever so slightly pursing her lips. She wanted to look like she was interested in him but was trying to hide that fact from him.

"I don't know. I have to read your palm."

Oh Christ, she thought, groaning inside. But outside she made herself giggle a little and held out her hand to him. "What's it say?"

He took her hand in his sweaty mitt and started stroking her upturned palm with his index finger. "Let's see here...hmmm... very interesting. I see a very definite sign."

"Oh yeah?" she said as if she didn't know what he was going to say. "What's it say?"

"It's pointing right over there," he said, raising her hand and pointing it right toward his table. "Something about having a few more drinks with me and my friends."

She smiled and stood up, deciding to let him keep a hold of her hand since he wasn't showing any signs of letting it go. They took their drinks over to Eddie's table. He introduced Marco as Eric and the other big guy as Quentin. They both seemed very glad to see her and her breasts, although Quentin complained that "Leo"

had forgotten to bring them back another round of drinks.

"So what're you guys doing in town?" Chloe asked, after they'd finished the introductions. Eddie's knee was pressed against her leg, but at least she'd managed to get her hand back and wipe the sweat off.

"We're on a cruise," said Leo. "Cruising the Caribbean."

"Ooh, that sounds fun," she said. "I've never been on a cruise." Ok, that was true too, although the thought of Chapter 12

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being cooped up on a boat for days on end didn't have much appeal. It sounded even worse than being cooped up on an island.

"Cruises are great!" the big man called Quentin practically shouted. "All you can eat, drink, sleep and fu..."

Either Eddie or Marco kicked him under the table, cutting off that last thought.

"You cruise a lot, then?" she asked, pretending to ignore the outburst.

"When we can," Eddie said. "It's a nice way to relax."

"What do you guys do when you're not cruising?"

"We're in software," said Eddie.

"Wow, cool," said Chloe. "Do you work out in Silicon Valley or wherever?"

"We do," Eddie assured her. "Big time software company out there. Are you from California?"

She wondered if he'd detected something in her speech patterns that gave her origin away, but on reflection decided that he was probably just fishing for info. "No," she said. "I've never been west of Texas."

"Oh," Eddie said, "You should come out sometime. Silicon Valley's the best. We'll show you a grand old time." He patted her on her thigh under the table.

"I'll bet," she said. "I'm sure it's a real happening place." She knew, in fact, that it was nothing of the kind.

"You just need a local guide to show you around," he said. Chloe groaned again inside, before remembering that she'd once said much the same thing to Paul. She wondered how he ever fell for it.

"Still, I bet it doesn't compare to Key West. We know how to party here!" she said, summoning up all the Jimmy Buffet-inspired enthusiasm she could. "No place in the world like Maragritaville."

"Whooo!" shouted Quentin again. "Maragritaville!" He was really, really drunk, thought Chloe. But it was Eddie she was focused on, and he seemed to be holding his liquor pretty well.

"That's why I'm here!" said Chloe with convincing enthusiasm, "Livin' the Parrot Head dream." She and Eddie drank to that.

"Last call!" the bartender shouted from across the deck. "Last call for alcohol!"

"Fuck!" said Quentin. "What time is it?"

"Who cares?" said Chloe, laying the foundation for her trap.

"It's ten 'til four," said Marco/Eric, the first thing he'd said since she sat down.

"You'd think having bars open until 4 a.m. would be enough for people," said Eddie. "But you'd be wrong!"

He downed the last of his drink and motioned to the bartender with a swirl of his finger to bring them another round.

"How long are you guys in town?" Chloe asked.

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"Not long enough," said Eddie. "Not long e-damn-nough. Our ship leaves tomorrow."

"You should come with us!" said Quentin.

"As fun as that sounds..." Chloe started to say.

"Don't mind him," said Eddie. "He's just drunk."

"I am not..." said Quentin, bobbing side to side in his seat. "I'm drunk." He was such a typical dumb, big, drunk frat boy that Chloe wondered if he might not be faking the whole thing. Were the three of them playing her? Had they made her? "I'm not drunk," he repeated. "I just have to... I have to piss."

Quentin struggled to his feet and then fell back into his chair. Chloe laughed as if this was the funniest thing she'd ever seen, and the others joined in, including Quentin. She smiled and winked at Eddie, who offered her an even broader smile in return. She followed his eyes as they glanced at Marco before coming to rest on her again.

Having apparently picked up on the signal, Marco rose to his feet and said, "If you pick up the bill, I'll make sure Quentin doesn't drown in the head."

"I never did but that once..." Quentin slurred as Marco helped him to his feet. Then he focused on his friend.

"Thanks buddy. I need to piss, you know."

"I know, I know," said Marco. "But remember, I'm not holding it for you."

"That's what your mother said..." Quentin replied.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"You don't make sense..."

"Come on, tough guy. Let's go." Marco slung Quentin's arm over his shoulder and helped him stagger toward the bathrooms, which were inconveniently located downstairs.

Chloe laughed into her drink again. She suspected that Eddie had given them some pre-arranged sign to clear out so he could have her for himself. Quentin's showy drunkenness served to make Eddie look all the more appealing in her eyes. These guys had it down to a science.

"He'll be fine," said Eddie, putting his hand on her knee again.

"I couldn't care less," she said.

Eddie laughed at that. "No, tell me what you really think. He's a good guy, he's just..."

"Drunk," she said. "Nothing sadder than a limp-dicked drunk who can't hold his liquor."

"No one like that at this table," said Eddie.

"We'll see."

The bartender arrived with the final round of drinks. "You take two and I'll take two," Chloe said, picking up a vodka tonic and a rum and coke that had been meant for Quentin.

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"You're on," said Eddie.

They downed their drinks in short order. Chloe felt the alcohol flooding through her system and into her head.

No stranger to liquor, she could drink most men under the table, but she had a suspicion that Eddie was no novice. Plus he had fifty or sixty pounds on her. But she didn't need to get him smashed - at least not here and not yet.

Eddie droned on about the cruise ship he'd supposedly come in on, and Chloe nodded appreciatively. When the bartender came with the bill, she saw a momentary flash of worry on Eddie's face. She'd tightened up a little during the conversation, wanting him to doubt whether or not she was actually interested enough to leave the bar with him.

"Come on, man," said Eddie. "One more round."

"Sorry, dude. Not my call. Manager says we shut down, down we shut." Eddie handed him a credit card.

Chloe caught a glimpse and was impressed to see that it was in the name Leo Perry. Eddie was enough of a pro to keep his aliases straight at least.

"So," he said to her in that casual yet meaningful way people have of speaking to relative strangers after last call. "What now?"

"I go home I guess," said Chloe.

"You're kidding."

"I am?"

"There's got to be something else going on in this town."

"It's 4 a.m.!"

"No after-hour clubs? No parties at your friends' houses?"

"Nothing unless you've got money to burn," she said, her tone dismissive.

"I definitely have money to burn."

"You sure?" she asked. "I'd have to make some calls."

"What're we talking about here?" Eddie asked.

"There's a party. Really, they say it's the party. If you can get in."

"What's so special?"

"They have the best of everything. The best drugs. The best drinks. The best people. That's what I heard anyway."

"Where is this? Some club..."

"It moves," Chloe said. "It's somewhere new each night. But it costs like a hundred bucks to get in. And you have to know who to call to get invited."

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Eddie's shit-eating grin returned as he pulled a neatly folded wad of bills from his pocket, peeling off two $100 bills. "Is that all?" he said.

"Some of us work for a living," said Chloe, trying to look like she was trying to look unimpressed.

"And some of us don't," he laughed. "Now come on, I've got the two hundred..."

Chloe stared at the two bills for a long moment, milking his anticipation before she let a wide smile crack her face. "And I've got a friend I can call."

He leaned back in his seat, pushing the two bills back into his pocket. "Well then, sweetie. Make the call."

"Sounds like a party," she said, taking out her phone. She punched in Sandee's number. "I hope you're ready."

"Oh, I was born ready," Eddie said.

"That's what I like to hear," Chloe replied.

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Chapter 13

WHEN he was in high school, Paul's favorite books of all time had been the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas Adams. He'd read the first three novels back to back and then turned around and read them again. He'd even carried around a towel in his car and worn a "Don't Panic" button every day. Funny, sarcastic, inventive and never for a moment anything resembling serious, the sci-fi novels had provided him exactly the kind of smart but carefree escapism that he needed during his awkward teenage years.

Like many geeks of his generation, dozens of quotes, scenes and characters from the books still remained stuck in his brain now that he was in his early 30s (even one of his favorite political bloggers had picked the screen name Majikthise after one of the books' more obscure minor characters). There was one small piece from the third book, Life, The Universe, and Everything, that had always intrigued him - a description of a never-ending party that moved from planet to planet on its spaceship, raiding alien worlds for fresh supplies of cocktails and canapés. When he was an awkward young gamer kid who never got invited to the cool parties, the concept of a party that never ended seemed incredibly enticing. Much later, he'd read a description of a similar, more earthbound never-ending party in a William Gibson novel, and the idea took hold of his imagination once more.

Key West was as close to a real-world never-ending party as any city was likely to get. But upon arriving there with Chloe and Bee, he'd discovered that even this island of revelry had its limits. He'd also discovered his own limits as well. It had taken him a week to recover from the seventy-two hour orgy of indulgence he and Chloe had enjoyed as they broke the new town in. But those three days had awakened dormant dreams of the Hitchhiker's Guide's never-ending party.

The three of them had come here to set up a new Crew and make a new life for themselves. Not just a new life, but a whole new world, and Paul wanted to live in a world where there were fantastic parties that never ended. He'd explained his dream to Chloe and Bee, and while they both agreed that such a party would indeed be cool, they couldn't see much of a practical use for actually doing such a thing. Paul had argued that the whole point of a party was that it didn't have a practical purpose. Chloe had countered that it sounded like a fine hobby for him, but that they needed money, and unless he wanted to wait tables to finance his dream, they needed to come up with some scams.