Cheesecake and Teardrops (9 page)

“Don't lose your head over a little piece of tail,” Blade said, bored.

“I knew you were an intelligent man.” Stone smiled.

“Take the money and make it easy on yourself.”

Blade picked up the envelope again and immediately put it back down.

Stone eyed the piece of crap in front of him. Nothing was more pitiful than an indecisive man.

“Give me the damn check,” Blade said, annoyed.

“Now you're being smart. If I hear that you've so much as called my granddaughter, you will curse the day you were born. Is that clear?”

“I hear you.”

“Good. Don't make me lay eyes on you ever again.”

Stone stood and walked out the door, his coffee untouched.

Secretly, he was amused. He had been prepared to go higher, but he had gotten off dirt-cheap.

Blade watched Stone leave as he slid the envelope in his jacket pocket. Easy money was the best kind. He'd kiss his debts good-bye, and if he was lucky, see Chase too. Nobody told Blade what to do. Nobody. Especially not Stone Canyon.

Blade walked up to the teller's window of the National Bank and endorsed Stone Canyon's check for deposit into his checking account. He would have loved to bank it with his meager savings, but he was in so much debt that he'd have to start writing checks the minute it cleared. Not that he could afford to wait even that long. Blade's eyes grew to the size of golf balls as he glanced at his copy of the deposit slip that the teller returned to him. He had never had so much money in his account at one time, but if he played his cards right the possibilities were endless.

He breathed a little easier as he drove off, waiting until after he passed the local police precinct before picking up his cell and dialing Chase Martini's number. Let's see who gets the last laugh, he said to himself, thinking about his deal with Stone Canyon.

Chase picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, it's Blade. What are you up to? I need to see you.”

“Oh, yeah?” she laughed. “I thought you had deserted me. What's going on?”

“I've just been busy, ya know? But I've been thinking about you day and night. When can I see you?”

Chase laughed again. “I don't know. You tell me.”

“Why don't we meet tonight in Queens at Manhattan Proper?”

“Why the change?” she asked.

“I'll explain when I see you. How's nine o'clock sound?”

“I have an early day tomorrow. How about seven?”

He hesitated slightly. “Okay, that'll work.”

“See you tonight.”

Blade hung up, relieved. Maybe his plan would work after all.

 

Stone checked his personal account that morning from his office and discovered that Blade had finally deposited the check. It had taken a full thirteen days.
Could someone named Blade possibly have scruples? Not in this lifetime,
Stone thought to himself. The private investigator assured him that Chase's whereabouts seemed back on track. And thank goodness that no matter how late she hung out with her friends Saturday night, she attended Sunday morning Mass with the family. At long last, Chase was finally getting her priorities straight.

Appearances were everything, which was why he came home every night to his wife Lola. He even slept in the same bed with her, even though they hadn't had sex in years. Lola knew about his “Spanish taco,” as she called Juana. How the hell she found out he couldn't imagine, but women had a sixth sense about these things. Why, her intuition alone could make a blind man see.

Why had he married Lola in the first place? She had what one would call class and traveled in the right social circles.

She was a debutante. She attended all the right schools.

Her parents had the right connections. He was the dashing, slightly older man to her innocence. So when the opportunity presented itself, he did what any other red-blooded, money-hungry American male would do. He snatched her up quickly, eloping without even a hint of a prenup. Back then he could barely afford the puny diamond he placed on her hand, but being the lady she was, she wore it proudly. He made sure she pushed out a baby, their only child, a daughter named Sloane, the following year to secure his future.

After that, he was set. His father-in-law saw to it that he made the right contacts and before long, the first Canyon's Club opened. That was almost fifty years ago. Her parents had both since died and passed on the bulk of their fortune to Lola. Lola was well-off in her own right, but when she and Stone argued she never let him forget how he owed his success to her family. And that if it hadn't been for her, he'd still be a used-car salesman.

Stone called Juana into his office. “Get Zynk Caparelli on the phone for me, will you?” he said, knowing full well that he just wanted to gaze upon her lush, ripe body. She knew the game, smiling at him as she turned to walk back to her desk.

Within moments, Zynk was on the phone.

“That bastard Blade finally cashed the check,” Stone told him. “I want you to continue the surveillance, and I want weekly reports. I still don't trust him.”

“No problem, Mr. Canyon.”

“Great. Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

 

Blade pulled into Manhattan Proper's parking lot, looking for Chase's ride. When he realized she hadn't yet arrived, he sat in his car for a moment debating whether or not he really wanted to continue seeing her. If he wasn't careful, he could wind up in a lot of trouble. He was playing hardball with the big boys, and he could easily get burned. Was he ready to take that risk? Was she worth it? On the other hand, maybe he could cash her in for an even bigger paycheck. He might get the shit kicked out of him in the process, but there was a price to pay for everything.

He looked up and into the headlights of an approaching car. It was Chase in her shiny red Porsche. She pulled up right beside Blade, who got out of his car and approached hers.

“What's going on?” he asked, leaning over the driver's side.

“You tell me.”

“I thought maybe we could hop in my car and drive to someplace private.”

“Like where?”

“You name the spot.”

“This isn't exactly my neighborhood. You know?”

“I know. Why don't we have a drink here first and then decide what we wanna do?”

“Okay,” she agreed as she opened her car door and got out.

Blade gave her a quick hug and possessively placed his arm around her shoulders as they crossed Linden Boulevard and entered the club. He paid at the door and they found seats at the bar. She ordered a cosmopolitan while he had a rum and Coke. They kept the drinks coming that night, and as they staggered across the street to the parking lot hours later, Blade decided to drive them someplace quiet and secluded. He had spent practically all of his money on drinks and didn't quite have enough to spring for a room. Chase, too wasted to object, even handed over the keys to her car. She slid into the seat next to him and off they went. He had never driven a Porsche before and boy, was he loving it.

On more than one occasion, she begged him to slow down. “What are you trying to do, get us both killed?”

“Relax,” he told her. “I know what I'm doing.”

“Pull over,” she demanded as he ran a second red light.

“We're almost there.”

“I don't care. Pull over now,” she insisted.

The car in front of them came to a sudden stop, forcing Blade to slam on the brakes. Unfortunately, Blade couldn't stop in time and ran smack-dab into the back bumper with such force that both their air bags deployed.

“Shit,” he said as he got out the car to assess the damage done.

Chase blacked out momentarily. When she came to, Blade was in the street talking to the other driver.

“Look what the hell you did to my car,” she yelled at him as she exited from the passenger side. She felt a sudden, sharp pain shooting from her neck down to her shoulder and stiffened instinctively.

The other driver was calling 911 on his cell phone. Blade tried to convince him that it could all be handled without getting the authorities or their insurance companies involved, but he didn't want to hear it. About five minutes later, the cops showed up and reports were filed.

Blade didn't know what was worse—that he was charged with a DWI or that he'd just gotten busted with Chase. Evidently, she knew nothing of his deal with Canyon.

When Stone found out about the car accident, his first reaction was, what the hell was Chase doing in Jamaica at one o'clock in the morning? He hated calling his attorney, Nico Antonelli, at such a godforsaken hour, but then again, that's why he was on retainer. Nico took care of everything, including driving Chase home from the emergency room.

The first thing Stone did when his bank opened was to stop payment on Blade's check. There was no way in hell he'd allow him to spend so much as a penny of that money.

Stone would rather rot in hell first, and he wasn't through with Blade yet. Not by a long shot.

Chase spent the next few days visiting specialists to treat her whiplash and recuperating at home. One morning before leaving for the office, Stone summoned his granddaughter to his study.

“What the hell were you doing in Jamaica of all places at that time of night?” he asked her.

“I was hanging out with a friend?”

“A friend? Apparently, you use the term much too loosely.”

“You don't even know him, Granddad.”

“I think I know him a little better than you do, young lady.”

“You know Blade? You know Blade?” she repeated.

“Take a look at this, and tell me how much of a friend he really is?” He handed her an envelope.

She just stared at it.

“Go on, open it. Let's see how close you and Blade really are.”

She opened up the envelope and pulled out a check from her grandfather's private account made payable to Blade for ten thousand dollars. She turned it over. It had been endorsed by Blade.

“What the hell is this?” she asked.

“I offered your
friend
ten thousand dollars to stay away from you and he practically broke his neck signing on the dotted line. Evidently, you don't mean very much to him. You're just a meal ticket. Next time you go slumming, watch out for the street urchins.

 

Tangie couldn't remember the last time Blade had actually called her. She did the math and didn't like the results.

Apparently, somebody else was answering his booty calls. She knew there was another woman. There was no other excuse for his absence. Then one day a coworker confirmed it. He was seeing Chase. Her mind flashbacked to that night in South Beach. It was Chase's laugh she had heard on Blade's phone.

Tangie went home that night and cried. She cried until there was nothing left to shed. Then, she picked up the phone, called Charisma and Heather, and cried some more.

“Guess who Blade's seeing?” she asked them. “That bitch, Chase.”

“Martini?” Charisma asked.

“Yeah, that's the one.”

“Wow, I'm sorry, Tangie,” Heather said.

“It's not
your
fault,” Tangie told them. “Would you believe I tried calling him everyday from South Beach? I'm such a fool.”

“No, you're not. You're just a woman who gave her heart too quickly. We've all been there. It's in our genes.”

“Yeah, well, I should've kept him out of my jeans,” Tangie said, trying to joke about it.

“Have you confronted him?” Heather asked.

“No, not yet. He'll come around when he wants some, but we are so through. I gotta go. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow.”

“Get some rest. Call us if you need us,” Heather said before hanging up.

 

When Blade showed up on Tangie's doorstep a few nights later for a little TLC, she was ready for him.

“Come on in,” she told him. “I've been expecting you.”

She kept it light.

“Oh, really?” Scratching his head, he walked in and sat on her sofa.

“Uh-huh. I was wondering when you'd show up. Why haven't you called me lately? Did you lose your cell phone?”

“You know how it is. I gotta hustle, baby. I've been real busy. I just made ten thousand dollars.” Blade smiled.

“Well, I'm glad you made time for me.”

“Don't even go there. You know you're my boo. I always have time for you,” he said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, really. Where have you been?”

“What do you mean, where have I been?”

“Look at you, all tanned and whatnot. Where you been?”

“Oh,
now
you suddenly care? I've been on vacation. Where have you been? I've been calling you and calling you. I'm lucky if I get your voice mail.”

“If you must know, I was in a car accident.”

“Well, it looks like you walked away without a scratch. Lucky you.”

“Yeah, lucky me. Listen, Tangie, I didn't come here to argue with you.”

“Then why did you come?”

“I missed you, boo.”

“Cut the crap. I've had enough. I'm releasing you, Blade.”

“What?”

“It's over, and I know all about you and Chase.”

“That bitch means nothing to me. Trust me. She's just a thang. I don't want to lose you.”

“You already have. For two years I've put up with your crap. You schedule me into your life like a dental appointment, or like I'm the other woman on the side. But it's not all your fault. All this time I thought you were my knight in shining armor, but you're not. You're just a man. And at times you're a mean, spiteful, arrogant, pitiful man. I'm sorry I had you on a pedestal like you were something more. You didn't deserve to be there, and you proved it. I did you a disservice, but I also did myself a disservice for giving you so much power and control over my life. Well, now I'm taking my power back. You're not responsible for my happiness. So I'm giving you a gift—the gift of good-bye.”