to these whimsical intervals, a break from the mundane. An aromatic sweet smell overwhelmed him then. Ahhh, the perfume again. This time, he picked up a mandarin note. Then rich vanilla… He exhaled a ragged breath.
“Time’s up!” he hollered as he opened his eyes and slid off the bar stool. His buddies, Eddie, Harper, and Tex, chuckled as they held their respective drinks, watching him move about the place in search of his red-headed friend with the 38DD boobs. Rolling up his sleeve just so, he took calculated steps forward, looking all around like a cheetah on the prowl. He’d known the lady for years, a fellow attorney who’d been married to a quack, an ambulance chasing doctor he despised.
Yeah, those kind existed, hungry to get their hands on patients and make a big fucking deal over a sprained ankle. Being a medical attorney, he’d run into all sorts: The crooked cops that were being paid to lie at accident scenes and in court rooms; medical practitioners that had fucked up and removed the wrong damn toe but blamed it on an anesthesiologist… Pretty much the gamut. Charlotte’s ex-husband was low on the totem pole. Jokes circulated about him like nobody’s business. They’d bumped heads more than once, and Nixon just wasn’t the sort to lie back and take it.
That made it all the richer, satisfying and rewarding when he’d fucked the shit out of Charlotte for spite’s sake a couple years ago in her husband’s own bed before the ink on their divorce decree was even dry.
“Charlotte!” he called out, laughing and surveying the crowded grounds. He looked towards Harper, the weakest link.
He’ll crack.
“Little help here, motherfucker?” He regarded the young guy, a wet-behind-the-ears attorney. He was a good kid, the newest member of the firm for whom Nixon served as a mentor of sorts. The man smirked, his perfectly coifed blond hair and blue eyes gleaming in the light. Then the bastard shook his head and looked away. “Oh, so that’s how you’re gonna leave me, huh?” Nixon’s jaw tightened as he cocked his head to the side. “Tell me where the hell she is or I’ll break your fuckin’ legs then make ya hire me to work out your settlement.”
All three guys burst out laughing.
“You can’t Mafia your way out of this, Nixon,” Tex teased with his infamous Italian jokes. “Go get her or I will, if you fail. I wouldn’t mind a little red Riding Hood to round out my night. I’m married, not dead.”
“As if she’d ever have you,” he said with a wink.
“We’ll see, tough guy. Finders keepers.” Tex teased as he downed the last of his beer as if he were a plant needing watered. “No help for you.”
“Stay out of this,” Nixon warned, waving a finger at him. “Harper, man to man, let’s make a deal. I’ve got a hundred dollars riding on this.” He threw him a dazzling smile.
“That’s chump change for you, muscle-head,” Tex retorted, not letting up.
“And you’re just a big chump who’s ready for a change to your fuckin’ face from these fists if you keep interrupting my fuckin’ conversation.”
Tex’s eyes darkened. He poked his chest out like he was interested in escalating the situation, getting off that bar stool and trying something he might regret. Then, Nixon shot him a look and the man paused. Don’t even try it… Nixon was a gym rat and kept in tip top shape. The other guy wasn’t buff but big, a powerhouse, but ate like shit from sun up to sun down and was often out of breath from walking just a couple of blocks. They called him Tex because he was as big as Texas, a half-decent guy and great lawyer, too, but had a tendency to be passive aggressive towards him and a few other fellow attorneys, a trait Nixon truly hated.
Tex enjoyed calling him a meathead or Italian meatball because of his love of working out. True, Nixon loved being in the gym or using his own home equipment; it helped him blow off steam and also kept him fit for his late-night activities. On top of that, he was a 10th degree black belt in Judo, and everyone knew it since he kept some of the trophies for various competition wins in his office.
“Harper, which way did the little cherry go? I’ll give ya half… What do you say?” he tried to whisper to Harper, but his voice came out louder than intended.
“I can’t!” Harper chuckled.