The flight over from San Francisco was smooth and without incident. Jolie passed through customs unmolested.
A short cab ride from LaGuardia dropped her off at the up-market Silsbury Vale Hotel.
Jolie had been instructed not to write anything down, she had memorised the room number, seven-one-two. Her knock was answered by a heavy set man in his sixties. He was wearing a suit but no tie.
As she took in a breath to speak the man raised a finger to his lips.
'I'm here for...'
She just managed to catch the look of annoyance cross the old man's face before he slammed the door shut in her face.
After knocking again the door was opened much more slowly this time and only far enough for the man to fit his face in the gap. His finger was already at his lips. He waited for Jolie to nod her head as a sign of understanding before he opened the door far enough for her to go inside.
It was a twin room with two single beds, a dresser and a TV. Jolie had been expecting more luxury.
'Is...' She started to speak now that she was in the room. He slammed the door and this time, instead of putting a finger to his lips, he held his hands out in front of himself, palms up. Jolie stopped speaking. She took the black holdall that had been in her possession all the way from San Francisco and offered it to him. He moved his hands to the don't shoot position and took a step backwards so that his body did not come into contact with the bag.
They were standing about six feet apart. Each at the end of a bed. Jolie was starting to feel nervous; he was staring at her as if he was expecting her to make the next move. The bag, the one he'd just refused to even touch, was the whole reason for her being in New York.
Jolie shrugged her shoulders to let him know that she was unsure of what was expected of her.
His breath was coming out of his mouth in short noisy bursts and his chest was rising with every intake of air. He took three lumbering steps and grabbed the notepad from the night-table that was set between the two single beds. Tearing off the top sheet he handed it to Jolie. She took it with suspicion, keeping her eyes on him, trying to read his expression.
The paper was light green and had the emblem of the hotel at the top. There was a message written on the note all in capitals and all evenly spaced. "TAKE DOWN YOUR PANTS AND SHOW ME YOUR ASSHOLE".
Jolie stared at the man who had handed her the note. He was looking back at her with a jaded look in his eyes; he shrugged his shoulders as if wondering what the hold-up was. She closed her fist over the note and threw it on the bed; then gripped the holdall in both hands and thrust it towards the old man. His reaction was the same as before; he took a step back and kept a distance between the black holdall and himself. He pointed a stubby finger at the note then pointed the same finger at Jolie.
'What the fuck!'
As soon as the first word sounded from Jolie's mouth the heavy old man made his way past her, taking care not to touch her, or any of her belongings, and opened the door again. He kept hold of the door and indicated the corridor beyond.
Jolie looked at the black bag that hadn't left her sight for two days. Her part of the deal was to give the bag to some guy in a hotel room in New York. She'd already been paid half her fee. The other half due on delivery. She couldn't very well return to San Fran with a full bag and tell them He wanted to take a look at my ass so I am returning the coke. Oh and by the way can you give me three or four months to pay back the two grand you've already paid me?
The note was in a ball on the bed where she had thrown it. She picked it up and unravelled it. The paper tore slightly where the adhesive strip had stuck to a bit of dry paper. "TAKE DOWN YOUR PANTS AND SHOW ME YOUR ASSHOLE".
As the old man watched her read the note his breathing seemed to even out. He waited for a signal from Jolie, which she gave by nodding her head, before closing the door with a firm click. She had started to unbutton her jeans as he put the chain on the door. By the time he had moved back into the room and taken up his position at the end of the bed Jolie had lowered her zip and had her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans. He stood with his arms folded and his meaty head cocked slightly to one side. Behind him the large window revealed a sunny morning above the New York skyline.
Jolie turned her back to him and in one movement pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees. The gusset of her crimson panties stuck for a brief moment between the cheeks of her ass but sprang free as they were pushed to her knees. Her buttocks were firm and high set. She was a thin, lithe-looking girl and even in this stood-up position the bulge of her pussy could be seen from the rear.
Looking back over her shoulder at the fat man it struck her that he didn't seem too interested considering how insistent he was to get her to show him her ass in the first place. He was just holding Jolie's stare. She shrugged her shoulders; what next.
The note was lying on the bed beside Jolie. He moved forward and picked it up, held it in front of her face and ran his finger under the second line of the note. "AND SHOW ME YOUR ASSHOLE".
