Moore to Lose (28 page)

In their own group, the wonderful new addition that added joy to the somber day was Charles and Gaby’s daughter, Paola. Mrs. Portman had assumed a grandmotherly role with the little girl and both Charles and Gaby were more than happy to indulge her. Even for their group, life had gone on.

After the service, they went to Katz’s Deli on Houston Street (the deli made famous in the movie, “When Harry Met Sally” by Meg Ryan’s famed “I’ll have what she’s having” fake orgasm scene). Shortly after they sat down, Mrs. Portman took Mia’s hand, “It’s been ten years, Mia. It’s time.”

Mia could feel her eyes fill with tears. “I’ve dated,” she protested.

“Anyone serious?”

“Well, I did date an architect for about three months,” defended Mia.

From down the table, Seth chimed in, “What a loser.”

Laughing, Mia shook her head. “I can’t argue with you there.”

Mia knew the look on Mrs. Portman’s face. She had seen it many times on Lois’ face. It was the Jewish mother disappointed look. “It’s time,” she repeated, as if giving Mia her blessing and patted the younger woman’s arm gently.

Walking home later that day, Mia wonder where the seagulls had been that morning. She had not seen any seagulls.

Charles stood outside the venue with the its owner and his Los Angeles contact from the Elite Modeling Agency. Today’s event had been a huge success. The site lent itself perfectly to the fashion show and the after-party, to which Brent Bolthouse Productions had added an edgy touch, creating a trendy and dynamic ambience.

The venue’s owner was engaging Charles in a conversation about event security and wondered if Charles was considering a west coast branch of his firm. They talked about both the opportunities and downside of bicoastal operations. Charles mentioned he had a toddler and was less inclined to spend time away until she was older. The venue’s owner indicated that he too was a father and totally understood.

Charles looked at the display on his Smartphone, “Excuse me,” he said to the two gentlemen and turned slightly away from them. “Meezie, what’s up?”

“Chazicle, how’s LaLa-land?”

“There’s no place like home,” he laughed.

“No shit. Hey,” she continued, “are you aware that UNICEF changed the date of their event?”

“No, when did that happen?”

“I’m not sure, it appears I didn’t get the memo either. I was totally blindsided by this today.” An icky feeling was starting low in Mia’s gut and moving rapidly throughout her body. WTF? This was a high alert, ill at ease. Anxiety, nausea, apprehension — this was a full blown physical freak out, coming out of nowhere and Mia was stumped by its genesis. Where was the trigger, she wondered. “What’s that noise in the background?” Mia heard voices, it sounded like a TV show, something she should recognize, something she did recognize, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. What was it?

“Oh, I was just having a conversation with the venue owner and my Elite contact.”

“Is there TV on or a movie? It sounds like something I know.”

Charles laughed. “No, we’re just standing outside talking. It’s quiet out here. Brent Bolthouse has the place rocking inside.”

“Ok, hey am going to call your office in the morning and make sure your staff has the correct info on this UNICEF deal.” Mia started to shut down her laptop for the night. She had to get out of there, get some fresh air. Immediately. She kept hearing it in the background behind Charles’ voice. It was so close, but just out of grasp.

“Thanks, Meezie. Let’s get together this weekend.” Hanging up, Charles rejoined the conversation with the other men.

Mia’s subconscious had entered DEFCON 1, quickly surpassing levels 5,4,3 and 2. It was fully aware of what had just happened and was trying to quickly erect barricades to keep it from Mia’s conscious brain. Mia’s subconscious was in full blown protect mode. Protect the psyche at all costs. Yet, as hard as her subconscious was trying to scramble to get its shields up, the leakage had already busted through and was starting to affect her conscious thought — the physical discomfort, general ill at ease feelings.

That thing she was trying to grasp and couldn’t quite reach, the familiar voice that sounded like it was coming from a TV show in the background of her call with Charles, was no TV show. It was reality. And she wasn’t wrong. She did recognize the voice, on some level. As much as her subconscious would allow.

The last time she had heard that voice it had teased her that the bagels and pizza in New York had better be as good as she had been bragging they were.

It had been over twenty years, and unbeknownst to her, Mia Silver had just heard Schooner Moore’s voice again for the first time since their fingertips had last touched.

Had Schooner known that Charles Sloan, a man he had just met that day, was standing next to him talking to Mia Silver, he would’ve rudely grabbed the phone right out of his hand. If he had known that this man was one of Mia’s closest friends, and had been for many years, he would’ve invited him into his office, closed the door and pumped him for every last bit of information he could get out of him.

Mia left her office feeling very out of sorts. It was a little more than a spur of the moment decision to stop off at a neighborhood bar on her way home. Mia was on a mission and she didn’t quite know who had given the orders.

Sitting at the polished oak bar, Mia was on her third gin and tonic when they entered. Three guys, mid-twenties, two dark haired and a tall blonde. Her eyes immediately went to the tall blonde. He had an athletic build, and although just moderately attractive, he was tall and blonde.

The bar had several circa 1980’s pinball machines. Mia Silver was a pinball wizard. Joni and Rob used to tease her that she spent more time in the Student Center playing pinball than she did in any of her classes. Unfortunately, it was true.

Some people are pool sharks, Mia was a pinball shark and it was a skill she never lost. When you’re good, you’re good.

Choosing the most challenging machine, one that was multi- levels and shot multiple balls at once, Mia started in on her game, using her whole body to play (known as Body English), she knew it would be impossible for the boys not to notice her ass in her short, tight black pencil skirt as she swayed and lurched with her plays. It would also be impossible to ignore the lights and the bells, as well as the scoreboard racking up points in the millions.

It wasn’t long before she had her own viewing gallery. Upon finishing a game, she noticed the guys were standing just a few feet away, watching her.

“Impressive score,” one of the dark haired ones commented.

Mia hit them with a full tilt devil smile, “Was my major in college.” Feeding the machine again, she began her next game while the trio looked on. Her whole body moved with the machine as she concentrated on multiple balls careening down toward her flippers. With the precision of a maestro, she caught each ball with the flipper and flipped it back until she decided to let it slowly roll to the flipper’s end and send it back up the fairway again.

In the background, because she was concentrating on the machine in front of her, she could hear their cheers as they were starting to get into her game. They were hooked and soon she would invite them to join her, to play with her. And they would drink together.

An hour later they were all old buddies tossing back pitchers and playing team-tournament pinball. She was teamed with one of the dark haired guys and Blondie was teamed with the other. She flirted openly with all of them, giving the dark haired guys more attention and long eye gazes to the blonde when no one was looking.

The dark haired guys were up and Mia and the blonde were standing by watching. She excused herself to the Ladies Room and caught Blondie’s eye, motioning for him to follow her. Knowing the other boys would not look up from the pinball machines, their escape was an easy one.

Walking past the bathrooms, Mia pushed open the back door to the bar. It lead to an alleyway between old brick buildings and was empty save for a few green metal dumpsters. Emerging into the alley, with Blondie right behind her, Mia could feel the blood rushing through her veins, she was back on the edge — a place she hadn’t played in a very long time. She imagined this is what it felt like to a recovering addict who just shot up.

Turning to the boy, her back to the brick wall, he put his hands on either side of her head and bent down to kiss her. This was going to be fast and furious and they both knew it. His tongue was down her throat and she reached around him, pulling him against her. Feeling how rigid he was through his jeans, she pressed him against her harder, before reaching between them to unbutton and unzip him.

Grabbing her by her ass, he pulled her up against him and Mia wrapped her legs around him, her skirt hiking up over her hips. She could hear the slit at the back of her skirt rip and she didn’t care. She reached down and pushed the silky fabric of her bikini underwear to the side, giving him access to push up into her. They both grunted as he sunk deep into her wet pussy.

With his hands against the wall for leverage, the boy rammed up into Mia relentlessly. He started to walk with her, impaled on his cock and wrapped around him like a vine, until her back was up against one of the big green dumpsters, where he continued to drive into her. A metallic thud sounded with each thrust until he groaned and leaned into her, pinning her up against the cold metal.

“Wow. That was hot. You’re amazing.” The boy was panting.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” Mia was straightening her skirt. “Say goodnight to your friends for me,” she called over her shoulder as she began to walk down the alley.

Blondie stood there, shell shocked. “You’re not coming back in?” He yelled down the alley.

“I think I’ve played enough pinball for one night.” She didn’t even turn around.

“So we haven’t had one of these visits in a very long time.” Mia was sitting in Dr. Gary Cohen’s office after an exam.

“I know. Gary, I don’t know what set me off. I usually know my triggers. I’ve been able to identify the antecedents and put coping strategies in place before I do something risky or stupid, like I did the other night.”

“So, nothing happened that you can identify?” Gary’s concern was evident, both as a friend and a healthcare professional.

“No, I have no clue. I was talking to Charles Sloan on the phone and I could feel that crazy anxiety that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. All we were talking about was a UNICEF event that we’re both working on.”

“Hmm.” Gary shook his head. “I was really concerned you’d go to pieces after Michael’s death and you didn’t. You actually seemed stronger and more together than ever, so having an episode like this now, so many years later, really doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. Everyone was worried that I’d go a little bat shit crazy after Michael’s death, but I kind of felt like I had Michael’s strength to keep me moving forward. Like he wanted me to take the grief and the anger and use it for positive things and I did and it helped me heal. Helping others helped me heal. And since that time, the relationships I have had have been healthy. No great shakes, but healthy. And my behavior has not been destructive — I’ve felt really stable and whole for a long time now. I worked hard at facing some really ugly things and I really thought that I had come out the other end. So what this was all about — I just don’t know. It was like my subconscious had some big secret that it just didn’t want to share with my conscious and my conscious said, “Screw you.” I just wish I knew what it was that could have an effect on me like that. What could have that kind of effect on me?” Mia shook her head, wondering …

The 2.64 miles between The Dock Restaurant and their home on Linda Isle was going to be one damn long drive, Schooner was sure of that. CJ was in a massive snit and if Holly wasn’t sitting in the back seat of the Range Rover, he would just tell her to shut the heck up. Clearly he didn’t act the way she wanted him to act tonight, at his own birthday party, and he put at risk whatever she was trying to accomplish — obviously the real reason for his bogus forty-third birthday party.

“And you left me all alone to host. You could have at least pretended to be having a good time. I did this all for you and I have to continually put up with your selfish behavior and make excuses for you.”

Schooner hit the satellite radio button on his steering wheel and selected XM20 — E Street Radio. Tonight, on his forty-third birthday, more than any other night in recent history, he wanted to blast Bruce’s music and feel close to her again — so he hit the volume button to drown out CJ’s bitching. And CJ hated Springsteen’s music which made it all the more satisfying. Happy Birthday to me, he inwardly chuckled.

He wasn’t familiar with the track playing, so he hit the LCD. The Brokenhearted. Hmm, he wasn’t sure which album that appeared on.

“
The deck is cut, the cards turned, the hand is played
And all we ever hope for burns to ashes and drifts away
Now don’t let our love slip into this darkness
Don’t leave me to the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted
And tell me that you love me
Tell me that you need me
Tell me that you love me
Tell me that you want me
Tell me that you need me
Tell me that you want me
Tell me that you love me
Yeah tell me that you love me
Tell me that you love me
Tell me that you want me
And come on now darling
Say it right now baby
Say it right now darling
Tell me that you love me”
^xi