Chapter 9
"MAYBE HE WAS TRYING TO SAY IT WAS MEAT from a big horse, not a little pony." Marissa was leaning forward to yell in Beatrice's ear, over the heavy metal blasting from the stereo in the little Fiat. Beatrice was in the front seat, as usual. Nestor had gone off with Javert in the tiny Citroen in search of - what? Fresh whore's meat most likely, live and on the hoof. The fact that he had departed so casually, no goodbye kiss, not even a hug or an
au revoir...
Her phone pinged - payment from him, along with an itemized breakdown of services rendered.
"What's the matter now?"
Beatrice handed her
amica
the phone.
"Over a thousand euros and you're complaining?"
"I thought he liked me. The things he did to me, did
for
me, why would he do those things? Why would he make me..." Beatrice stopped short of saying 'love him'.
"Oh, now you have a crush on him? Like you did on that teacher? Signore Castalini? Who was married and wanted nothing to do with you?"
"That's not true. Once he came up behind me and put his arms around me and held my breasts."
"And?"
"He moved my hair to the side and kissed the back of my neck and said '
scusa'
."
"Sorry? What was he sorry for? That he was embracing you? Or that he wasn't going to fuck you?"
"I don't know."
"Look, suppose you did have another night with Birdy. What would either of you do as an encore?"
"You of all people would say that? My
amica
? You who have shared my bed so many nights?"
"Bea, you are a little girl who barely made it out of high school. He was probably at the top of his class in high school, at university, in his profession. How would you hold his interest for more than an evening?"
"Oh, I'm sure he and Javert are having a very refined conversation. They're probably inside there," she waved to a strip bar they were passing, "to do anatomical research. Who would think there'd be a market for a strip bar here? A live sex show? So what? Even for our little shows. Is there anything we do you couldn't see on the swinger beach?"
"People watch our shows from all over the planet," Rocco said. "Who knows, maybe this teacher, Signore Castrati..."
"Castalini."
"Signore Castalini. Maybe he's a fan now. You never told me about him."
"What? You're jealous? He had this beautiful beard, and he always dressed very elegantly, in a three piece suit. I used to watch those vintage movies, where the men are wearing three piece suits and they pull their cocks and balls all the way out of them and sodomize their ladies. When Birdy was doing that last night I was thinking
at last
.
At last
!"
"No beard though. I bet the beard would tickle if he was kissing you. Especially the way Birdy was kissing you."
"He was nice and smooth, like a girl. But such a powerful tongue. When are we doing the show?"
"At six."
"At this rate we won't be home by six." They had barely moved a block in the last ten minutes. "No time to get cleaned up."
"We can do a shower scene to start."
"That's not what I mean. To prepare ourselves for the anal." Which of course, she had neglected to do the night before. "Unless you're going to do it like the Japanese where they film all that."
"Maybe skip the enemas," Rocco said.
"The sheikh is paying us a fortune for a messy private show. You want to do a free one?"
"Okay. Okay. If there's to be any anal it's with Rachel."
"She was messy this morning."