Sleeper's Run

CHAPTER SIX

Tony's house is on Star Island, an exclusive neighborhood right off MacArthur Causeway near South Beach. That Sunday, the taxi drops me off in front of an impressive residence by the ocean. I buzz the intercom and wait as I hold a pack of hotdog buns. A wary maid answers the door. She gives me the impression that I look too "Rolling Stone" for the "GQ" crowd that probably frequents the house.

This is nice, I think, as I check the place out. It makes my condo look like a cardboard shack.

This is very nice, I say to myself again when I step out into the garden. The first sight that hits me is a group of gorgeous women sunbathing topless by the pool. Tony's idea of a small BBQ at home seems to come straight out of "Playboy." His definition of a few friends means two dozen scantily clad people accompanied by a bartender juggling a full bar, a DJ spinning tracks, and a cook handling the grill. Everything seems to be bigger in Tony's world.

I throw the hot dog buns behind some bushes before anyone notices, and light up a cigarette while looking for Tony. I spot him in the hot tub, with mojito in hand, talking to two blondes.

"Need a fourth?" I say, standing over them.

"Hey, buddy, what's up?" Tony says. "I was going to call you this morning, but I got home from the airport too late."

"How's the homeland?"

"Falling apart, thanks to their elected madman. Girls, this is Eric. Eric, these are my friends Victoria and Nicole."

"Hi!" they say in unison.

"Tony's told us so much about you," Victoria says.

"Mojito?" I hear behind me.

A statuesque goddess with long auburn curls, suggestive green eyes, and bronze skin holds a drink out for me.

"Sure, thank you," I say, supposedly looking at the mojito.

"I'm Tania," she says, as I take the glass from her. Our fingers touch briefly.

"I'm Eric." I force myself to look up.

"I know," she says.

My years in the military didn't leave much room for romance. The last steady relationship I had was back in the 20th century and it felt like it was indeed a hundred years ago. Everything after that was a collection of trysts with like-minded service women, lonely civilian contractors, sympathetic barmaids, and promiscuous waitresses. Once, I even slept with an adventurous journalist looking for thrills in and out of the war zone.

Entering the hot tub and offering me a great view of her magnificent ass, Tania looks over her shoulder and says, "Are you coming in?"

I suddenly can't remember my name. "Yeah... sure, in a minute. Tony, can I talk to you?"

"It better be good and it better be short," he says, as he reluctantly climbs out. We walk away from any eavesdroppers. "What's up?"

"I got an interesting phone call a couple of days ago," I say.

"And how'd it go?"

"Look, I appreciate you talking me up and all-"

"All right, stop it right there," he says. "Before you start with all your humility bullshit, you should know that all I did was recommend you to a friend. We were having lunch, the job came up in conversation, and I plugged you. That's all."

"Right, and I suppose the 'plug' was more like a power plant," I say.

"I'm a passionate man, what can I say?" Tony says. "Which reminds me." He looks in the direction of the hot tub with the three lonely girls and starts to walk away.

"Tony," I say, holding him back. "Thank you."

"Just don't fuck up," he says with a wink.

I wake up the next morning with a naked Tania wrapped around my body. I don't know how I survived last night with a broken rib, but like the old saying goes, "where there's a will..."

This whole week has been insane. I don't know how much providence my body can handle.

I get out of bed as quietly as I can. Tania is passed out, so she doesn't seem to notice. I search my pants to get my phone and I see there's a voice message from this morning.

"Mr. Caine, it's Susan Delgado. I would like to set up an appointment with you as soon as possible to discuss the terms of your contract. I hope to hear from you soon. I would like to be the first to welcome you into the Corso family."