Pandora's Succession (38 page)

“Not to mention the cheddar that she brings home in one night,” Corey added.

Eddie wasn’t as interested in the money as he was in knowing who her clients were. He stretched his neck forward with his eyes dilated. “Who?”

“All types of people. You’d get your regular Joe and Jane who are living out their fantasies behind the backs of their spouses and families. Sometimes we get couples—gay and straight. At times, we’d get your typical grandma and grandpa.”

Eddie made a face. The images of geriatrics struggling to zip up their leather or PVC outfits over their adult diapers came to mind. Ewww!

“Then you’d also have real celebs, pro athletes and even politicians.”

“No way,” said Eddie.

“Yes way,” said Corey.

“And this weekend, one of my colleagues will be hooking up with a very high-profile individual who lives south of the border.”

“Who is it?” asked Corey.

Jordyn glanced briefly over at Robert and lowered her voice even more. “I’m not really sure yet. But from what I was told. She’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, and she’ll be in town for a conference this weekend.”

“You lie.”

“It’s no lie, Eddie,” Jordyn replied. “The guy that’s doing the job owes me a big favor. I’m sure that I can arrange to have you substitute for him.”

“What, like being a...a pinch dominator.”

“Well, yeah. A maledom is the correct term. But you can put it that way. Geez, it’s amazing how guys always use sports analogies when it comes to anything remotely sexual.”

“Do you know what she looks like?”

“Not right now.”

“Then you can count me out.”

Corey turned to him. “Why’s that?”

“How am I supposed to get freaky with someone when I don’t even know what they look like before I meet them?”

“Man, don’t stress yourself over that,” Corey answered. “If she’s the CEO of some Fortune 500 company, then she’s got to be loaded with cash. She probably goes to the spa once a week and has her own personal trainers to keep herself looking like a twenty-year old.”

“And what if she don’t?” countered Eddie. “What if she’s out of shape and looking twice her age?”

“Then she’ll probably be so desperate that she’ll pay more to have her session with you,” Corey answered.

Eddie jerked back in his seat. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Jordyn shook a fist. “Will you calm down?”

“I am calm,” said Eddie raising his voice.

“Yo, man, keep your voice down,” said Corey.

Eddie inhaled, and then exhaled. This was way too much for him. What made them think that he’d be so desperate that he’d sink to such a low level? “Man this is way too unbelievable for me.”

Jordyn grabbed Eddie’s forearm. “Relax. It’s not such a big deal.”

“So you say.”

“Listen,” said Jordyn, “You’re not having sex with her, you just have to make her live out her fantasy. The guy you’ll be substituting for is close to your physique—he’s about five-foot-eight, one-hundred-and-fifty to sixty pounds. He’s a bit more muscular than you but I think you’ll still get away with it. Oh yeah, I’m told that the client prefers men of color, so you’re in luck.”

“I don’t care, ‘cause I ain’t doing it. This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” Eddie stood up.

Corey’s mouth dropped open as though he was surprised. “What are you talking about? What do you have to lose?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid idea. I’m going to the bathroom.” Without pushing the chair back in, he walked to the back—passing Robert—who tried his best to hide his smile.

The bathroom was more of a powder room minus the fanciness of one. One of the floor tiles was missing, and the toilet seat shifted to the left when you sat on it. Closing the door required one to force their entire body into it.

When Eddie was done, he washed his hands, dried them, and then used the hand sanitizer that was on the shelf.

He then looked at himself in the mirror. Were they for real? How could I expect to get a book deal from doing the dominator thing? Man, that shit only worked in the movies. Maybe that’s what he should write about next, so long as he got his current project off the ground. Who was he kidding? He’s not Jordyn. So what, if she could do stuff like that and not think much of it? That’s her. And how could Corey enjoy being around her knowing that she’s spanking some naked old geezer who had more spots than a leopard?

On his way back to the table Eddie stopped at the cash register. “How much for the meal?”

“Nine-eighty-five each,” Robert answered.

Eddie took out his wallet and found a creased five-dollar bill. He then pulled out a few coins from his pocket and sighed. He turned to Corey and Jordyn. “Can you guys spot me a Toonie?”

Jordyn was about to grab a two-dollar coin from her purse and toss it to him. She sucked her teeth, “Keep your money, Eddie. I got this one.” She walked over, pulled out two fresh twenties along with a crumpled five, and placed them on the counter. “Keep the change.”

Just then, the bell on the front door jingled as it was pulled open. A slight gust of cold air followed. After Eddie turned to see who it was, he looked away, rolling his eyes with a sigh. “Look who’s here.”

But Jordyn had already seen him and lowered her head. “Oh God.”

It was Theo. He was close to Eddie’s height and build with dreadlocks hanging out from his winter hat. He was also Jordyn’s ex.

“What’s up, Flick?” said Theo louder than he needed to. He was always starved for attention.

“Hey,” Flick’s voice came from the kitchen, above the sounds of frying food. Flick must have been up to his arms in his cooking that he hardly had time to leave the kitchen to greet his customers.

Although Eddie, Jordyn, and Corey paid no attention to Theo, he still saw them.

“What’s dis? Me gal come to me favorite hangout spot to find me?”

“You wish,” Jordyn said without looking at him.

Eddie swore that this guy was going to push their patience one day. He already had to separate Corey from him after a fight at a nightclub. The bouncers eventually physically threw all of them out.

Theo then looked at Corey. “And she bring along she singing boy toy.” He then laughed.

Eddie watched as Corey was about to take a step towards Theo. He immediately blocked him, mouthing the words, “No you don’t.”

Corey didn’t say anything.

“Dem judges tore you up. And dat British dude? Lord have mercy! Did you know you’re on YouTube? I had to send that video to my friends and family in Jamaica.”

Jordyn spun around to face him. “You didn’t.”

“Of course, mon. I couldn’t keep dat to me-self. I also emailed it to my friends in St Lucia, St Vincent, and Grenada. You’re a hit. I mean your video’s got over seventy tousand hits in just two weeks. I mean dat video must have made it half way past England by now.”

The nerve of this guy. He still couldn’t get over Jordyn leaving him for Corey. Shit, that was over two years ago, and he still had it in for Corey.

Corey played along with a fake laugh. “Yeah, I’m glad you found that video funny.”

Eddie tapped Corey’s arm, hoping to draw his attention away from Theo. It didn’t work.

“Yeah, mon. Nuff respect.” Theo was about to bump fists with him.

“Good, now get the fuck out of my face,” growled Corey. Theo dropped the smile and raised his hands in surrender as he backed off.

“What’s dat I hear?” Flick’s voice echoed from the kitchen.

Shit! Now Corey’s done it. Eddie’s first two inner fingers shot up to both his temples. Saying the wrong thing in his franchise was a sure fire way to get Flick out of the kitchen, no matter what he was doing. Flick was out by the cash register seconds later, shaking a large wooden spoon. He was in his sixties, but still had the agility of a forty-year old. “I told you youngsters before that I don’t want to hear any foul language in my restaurant, do you understand me? I ought to put ten lashes across your behinds with dis spoon.”

“Yes, and we’re so sorry. It won’t happen again,” said Jordyn, waving her hands quickly, as though she was surrendering for all of them.

“It better not.” Flick pointed the spoon at each of them, one at a time.

“For sure, sir. It won’t happen again,” Jordyn repeated. Flick then retreated back to the kitchen, mumbling something to himself. Eddie then signaled to Jordyn to walk on.

Eddie looked at Theo, who was clearly trying to hold back a laugh. Theo then lifted his gold chains from under his jacket, letting them dangle out in the open as he turned to Jordyn.

“You know my number when you’re ready to come home to a real man, right?”

Jordyn ignored Theo as she walked past him.

Corey eyed him as he walked away, which prompted Eddie to nudge him forward. He wasn’t going to break up another fight between the two of them, and get them banned from his favorite restaurant.

Eddie zipped up his jacket by the time he reached the top of the stairs, took out the car keys, and pondered what just happened. Leave it to Jordyn to always be there to bail him and Corey out of a sticky situation. When his eyes fell on his car, he thought again about what Jordyn and Corey had suggested. Could this really work? Then images of half-naked old people in PVC came to mind. He made a face in disgust. Hell naw!

Chapter 2

Laval-sur-le-Lac, Québec. Three days earlier.

Serge Lamont tugged on the mutt’s leash as it stopped to sniff at something in the snow. It was the only way of showing the Saint Bernard—Marc-Antoni—who’s boss. The dog ought to appreciate having him as his master, after he put down $1600 in loose change two days ago in veterinarian fees. How the hell can one mutt cost so much? There was a fee for the heart Doppler, another for routine checkups, the cleaning of the nails, ears, and teeth. There was even a charge for the office call. How the hell do they justify charging for an office call? These crooks would’ve charged him for owning his own dog if they could get away with it.

The backyard of his two-storey mansion was big enough to hold a small roller coaster and a Ferris wheel. Some people would’ve just let the dog run around in the yard on their own every morning. Not Lamont. He needed to get out and catch the crisp morning air. It was the only thing that woke him up, something that coffee couldn’t do as it did for others. He left his wife, Chantal, in bed. It was close to the end of the school semester. For her and the other university professors, they’d be psyching themselves up for the midterm exam period.

Outside was quiet, which was normal for the Laval-sur-le-Lac district where he lived. There was hardly any chirping from the birds this time of year since they were all down south, most likely nesting in either his beachfront condominium in the Florida Keys or the other in the Dominican Republic. He pictured the palm trees blowing in the ocean breeze. But all he saw ahead of him were a few pine trees. Surrounding them were a larger number of conifers whose stiff, leafless branches were bent downward from the weight of the ice that covered them.

Lamont pulled up his scarf over his exposed neck and zipped his jacket up over it. Wisps of vapor clouded in front of his mouth as he breathed, only to disappear less than a second later. But he liked his morning walks with Marc-Antoni. Even when the temperature dipped below minus twenty Celsius, he wouldn’t back away. After all, how else could he remind the neighbors who the top brass in the neighborhood was if he couldn’t be seen regularly? Like him, most of his neighbors also worked in the financial sector. One of them was a Member of Parliament. But they were all in his pocket, since most of them had investment portfolios in his company. Those who weren’t, it didn’t matter, since he was a major shareholder in some of the companies they worked for.

When he took over as chairman of Borealest Investments fifteen years ago, Lamont helped take the company out of Montreal and brought its presence across Canada and as far south as Houston, Texas. Sure, the economic crisis a few years before hit his company hard. But then again, who wasn’t? His company stayed afloat while others went belly-up.

This all started when a couple of greedy and arrogant assholes down in the US screwed things up for everyone. Now the rest of the world was paying for it. And it didn’t make things easier for his company, which had lost millions more than he and his partners had let their investors know. Hell, he didn’t even know where and when it all started. Sure, he had pocketed some of the money, but then again who wasn’t nowadays. There were also a few bad decisions made here and there awhile back. Now the shit kept pouring slowly into the fan.

Marc-Antoni kept weaving back and forth in front of him—his nose inches from the sidewalk-less road. What was he sniffing for anyway? Lamont was sometimes envious of a dog’s senses. They could smell better, hear better and could even sense trouble around them. Maybe had he had a dog’s senses, he could’ve predicted the impending financial crisis.

Ahead, two joggers ran towards him.

As they ran by they said, “Bon matin, Monsieur Lamont, ca va?” Good morning, Mister Lamont. How are you?

“Ca va, merci,” I’m well, thanks, he replied with a nod.