The Art of Sin (13 page)

Chapter 11

     The green and white awning of Café Du Monde helped keep the sun out of the bloodshot eyes of Grady and Doug. They sat at their table along the edge of the black railing, enclosing the famous landmark’s patio, with thick morning stubble on their foggy faces. Perched over their respective white mugs of coffee, the two men waited for their caffeine boost to kick in.

     “Did I pass out on your sofa, or did you put me there?” Doug inquired, peering into his black coffee.

     “You were sitting there and just fell asleep,” Grady reported.

     “Was that before or after you went upstairs to Al’s apartment?”

     “Before … I think.”

     Doug lifted the mug from the table. “Are you sure you can’t remember everything you said to Al?”

     “I don’t know if I want to remember. I think there was something in there about making fun of her rules … then I attacked her for pretending to be better than me because she was dating a married man. I’m pretty certain I asked her out on a date, too.”

     Doug took a sip from his coffee. “Never figured Al to be mistress material. She always struck me as a real confident woman who would not put up with that kind of shit from any man.”

     Grady picked up his mug with his left hand. “Not just any man. Geoff Handler is a rich plastic surgeon with a nice office, two kids, and a very pretty wife.”

     Doug put his mug down on the black iron table, frowning skeptically. “Geoff Handler? The big plastic surgeon? He works on the city’s social set.”

     Grady put on a perturbed smirk. “Sounds like his crowd.”

     Doug chuckled at his reaction. “His wife is one of the blue bloods in New Orleans. Her family owned the largest dairy company in the city, Brown’s Velvet Dairy. They got a ton of money when a big corporation bought them out in 1993. Her wealthy family could explain why the good doctor is not too eager to leave her.”

     Mulling over Doug’s words, Grady listened to the faint trill of a calliope from atop the riverboat Natchez. “He made it seem like the wife was all right with their arrangement,” he finally confided.

     Doug picked up his coffee. “That’s how it is with their kind. They marry the person with the money, but prefer to sleep with the help.” He gulped back a deep swig from his mug.

     “Al is hardly the help,” Grady argued.

     Doug slapped his mug on the glass-covered table. “She works for him. She is dependent on him. Staying in his good graces, keeps her gainfully employed.”        

     “I’m sure, if she wanted, she could get another job.”

     “But does she want to give up what she has for you?”

     Grady set his eyes on an older couple not far from their table. They were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, and he speculated if he and Al could achieve that. Then, he remembered the kiss they shared in the car, and his certainty about wanting to have a chance with her returned.

     “She doesn’t love Geoff,” Grady affirmed, turning back to Doug.  

     Doug rested his arms on the tabletop. “Look, Grady, I love Al to death, but she is in the same boat as you and me. We’ve had to kiss a lot of ass to get ahead, and give up a lot to keep it.” He patted his chest. “I danced for seven years in some of the top clubs across the country. I knew when I got involved with Bev that it could ruin me, but I didn’t care. I was ready to give it up for her. I have a feeling that if you want Al—I mean really want her—you’re both going to have to give up a lot to be together. That includes your dancing. Christ, it’s hard enough holding on to someone when you have a normal life, but when you do what you do, it’s practically impossible.”

     Grady drummed his fingers against his white mug. “Maybe it’s time I get out of the game.”

     Doug reached for his coffee. “What will you do instead?”

     “I could go back to finance. I still have a degree, and with time I could find something.”

     “Do you even own a suit?” Doug teased.

     Grady observed the tourists milling about the sidewalk by their table. “I might have to buy some new ones.”

     Doug drained his coffee mug. “My hat’s off to you, but I know how you feel. I don’t miss working out all the time to keep bulked up, watching everything I ate, staying tanned, or waking up with another nameless face beside me.” He put his mug on the table and waved down a passing server. 

     “Have you talked to Bev? How is she?”

     He returned his gaze to Grady. “I called her when I got back to my place. She’s got a busted lip, a black eye, and some stitches in her chin. They kept her overnight for observation in the hospital and then sent her home.”

     “Does she know you showed up at the club ready to kill Matt yesterday?”

     He slowly nodded. “Bev made me promise not to do anything to Matt. She swears she’s going to call some hotshot divorce attorney and get the ball rolling.”

     Grady ran his fingers across the glass top of the black iron table. “That could get ugly and be very dangerous for both of you.”

     “Possibly, but at least we can be together.”

     “Are you eventually going to make it permanent between you two?”

     Doug smiled for him, adding a bit of warmth to his black eyes. “All your life you grow up knowing what you want: a career, a wife, a house, and kids. You’re just never quite sure how you will accomplish that dream.” He paused as a small woman with long black hair and deep, almond-shaped eyes came up to the table carrying a fresh cup of coffee on a black tray. She put the coffee down and turned away. “I didn’t go to college, like you,” he continued. “I started out as a bartender, got into dancing, and figured sooner or later I would get my act together and have a normal life. Suddenly, here is my chance at normal. The wife, kids, white-picket fence … so yeah, I’m ready to make it permanent with Bev and me.”

     Grady recalled his encounter with the long-legged woman and her roaming blue eyes. “Are you sure she’s the one, Doug?”

     “No one else has ever made me feel this way. No one else ever will.”

     “White-picket fences are expensive, my friend. I know, I had one once. And kids?” Grady shook his head. “That would terrify the crap out of me.”

     Doug picked up his fresh cup of coffee. “Being scared makes it worthwhile, Grady. Only then do we know it’s real.”

     Taking in the effervescent sounds of a band of street musicians on a nearby corner, Doug eased back and enjoyed his second cup of coffee. As Grady watched him soaking up the lively French Quarter atmosphere, he could not help but admire Doug’s choices. He was taking his shot at happiness; even if the outcome was uncertain, Grady believed everyone deserved their moment in the warm sunlight of bliss. When he was going to get his chance?

*     *      *

     Later that night, Grady returned to The Flesh Factory, ready for a confrontation with Matt Harrison about missing the previous night’s performance. His conversation with Doug at Café Du Monde had been nagging at him all day. He knew to have any shot at a relationship with Al he had to get out of the skin game, but was she ready for a relationship with him? What about Geoff? Would she walk away from him?

     As Grady entered his dressing room, the questions consumed him. He had left dancing before to appease a woman, and look how that had turned out. Yet this time, he was convinced he needed to make a change. He just wished he knew for certain if the woman who was changing him was just as willing to embrace the uncertainty of their future together as he was.

     Grady removed his costumes from the garment bag and spent a few minutes attempting to get the wrinkles out of his tuxedo pants. When he heard the door to his dressing room open, he assumed it was Lewis arriving. When Matt’s voice rose from the open doorway, his jaw clenched.

     “You want to tell me where you were last night? I had to have one of my review dancers fill in for your number, and let me tell you … he sucked.”

      Grady seethed as he kept his eyes on the man’s meticulously tailored black suit and gray silk tie. After Doug’s disclosures about what Matt had done to his wife, Grady had a hard time looking him in the face. There were a lot of things Grady hated in life, but a man who raised his fist to a woman was the one thing he had never tolerated.

     “I, ah, got called away on an emergency,” Grady told him.

     “You ever thought of checking your cell phone?” Matt barked. “I called you about four times last night.”

     “Like I said, it was an emergency, and by the time I checked my phone, it was too late to call.”

     “I should fire your ass for cutting out on me like that.”

     Grady squared his shoulders. “I’ll save you the trouble. I’m giving you my notice, effective immediately. Take the time you need to find another dancer to replace me, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

     “You’ve got a contract with me. You’re supposed to dance eleven shows a week for four months. I could call Burt and start a whole lot of shit for you, or I could sue.”

     Grady remembered all he had learned from Doug and he slowly grinned at Matt. “You won’t do that.”

     Matt placed his hands on his skinny hips, staring Grady down. “You smug son of a bitch. Don’t think I won’t go after you for the money you—”

     “How’s your wife?” Grady interrupted.

     Matt was stunned into silence. “What do you know about my wife?”

     “I know she spent the night in the hospital because she told everyone she fell down the stairs, but we both know what really happened.”

     Matt came into the dressing room and closed the door. “You mind telling me how you know about that?”    

     Grady folded his arms over his chest. “A mutual friend.” 

     Matt dissected Grady with his black eyes, and then he slowly nodded. “What else did Doug Larson tell you?”

     Grady fought to keep control of his emotions. He had to play it cool and not incense the man into a fury. He had dealt enough with shady club owners to know how to talk to them. They respected smarts, strength, and guys who knew how to play the game. Grady took a moment, finding a way to show his hand to Matt.

     “Doug told me some interesting things about you. Things you don’t want other people to know.”

     Matt’s mouth pulled back into a tight-lipped grimace. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, kid. You might want to think long and hard about threatening me.”

     “I’m not threatening, Matt. I would never threaten, that could be constituted as blackmail. I’m just stating a fact that will hopefully allow me to get out of my contract without any fear of legal repercussions.”

     Matt’s face relaxed and he squinted at Grady. “Are you a lawyer or something?”

     “No, but I have quite a few very good friends who are lawyers. I frequently consult with them for advice … and tell them of my current business dealings. You know, where I am, and what I am into. They keep me out of trouble and hold on to all of my vital papers. In case anything happens to me, they know exactly how to proceed.” Grady silently prayed Matt bought his lie. It was the only bargaining chip he could think of to keep his ass from getting killed.

     Matt’s coal black eyes carefully weighed Grady’s proposition. “So you know lawyers. So what?” he eventually commented.

     Grady fought to stay relaxed, while a swell of nerves knotted up his stomach. “We both know you don’t want the legal headache involved in suing me for breach of contract. There would be lawyers involved, depositions, and think of all the nasty details that could come out in a trial. I have a much easier solution in mind.”

     Matt shook his head, chuckling. “You’re good. All right. What do you want?”

     “Out of my contract. I’ll stay until you find a suitable replacement. If anyone asks, including my agent, I’ll just say I wanted to take some time off and we ended everything amicably. Once we’re done, you will never hear from me again.”

     Matt analyzed Grady’s chiseled features while he considered his offer. “Fine,” Matt finally agreed. “I’ll toss out the contract, but let’s hold off on finding a replacement. I might want to keep you around, let’s say as a permanent dancer. Give you a raise, even pay for some of your expenses.”

     It was Grady’s turn to be surprised. He had to wonder what the disreputable man was hoping to accomplish by buying him off.

     “Generous of you.” Grady reflected on Matt’s offer. “May I ask why the sudden change of heart?”

     Matt eased into the dressing room. “The women like you, a lot. Making you a headliner will pull in more business. Plus, keeping you under my roof will guarantee your silence. I find it best to keep my enemies close, like that Chinese general guy said.”

     Grady placed his hands behind his back. “Actually Sun-tzu did not say precisely that. The origin of the quote comes from Machiavelli in
The Prince,
which is the definitive reference for how to be a dictator, not a military commander.”       

     Matt clapped his hands together. “Now you see … that’s why I want to keep you around. You’re a smart guy. Where did you learn that shit?”