Chapter 7
Sex and Drugs

A/N: When Jason, Raquel and Willie are playing their characters, they are referred to as Ernest, Anjelica and William


William sat at a tall table in the hotel lounge drinking rum and Coke. He watched Anjelica and their mark, Albert Zorin, across the room parked at the bar. She sipped a Rusty Nail and looked distraught, while he drank straight vodka and couldn't keep his hand off her ass.

Time to go to work. The young man scoured the room for a prop he might use and quickly zoned in on a cute little blonde chatting up the bartender. He signaled for a waiter and, nodding toward the girl, said "Give her another drink."

She flashed a big, white smile and patted the stool next to her. The young tycoon shook his head no, pointed to her and then to the seat next to him. She bounced over like a puppy.

"I'm meeting my girlfriends in a minute."

William grinned and put the coke vial on the table. "We'll get more chairs."

Ernest entered the lounge looking as dapper as James Bond in a white dinner jacket. By this time, his nephew was entertaining three party girls, laughing boisterously, and doing lines at the table with a rolled up $100 bill.

Anjelica was beside herself. Her hands trembled as she whispered to her brother in law, "Ernest, you must do something before he gets arrested again. Haven't we paid enough to suppress that terrible publicity?"

The gentleman sighed and strode over to the table as William looked up, wiping his nose.

"Hey, look who it is. Hi, Uncle Ernie! This is—I forget your names. Moe, Larry and Curley." The table thought this was hilarious.

"William, you're actin' foolishly and upsettin' your stepmother. Before you get in trouble again—"

"Fuck you, and FUCK HER." That was loud enough to be heard across the room. Anjelica cringed. "My father's not even cold in the ground, and she's over there screwin' around with that asshole. And I know she's been screwin' you, too." He then addressed the room at large. "Hell, is there anybody here she hasn't screwed?" Several patrons turned in their direction.

"Lower your voice; that's not funny."

"No, ya know what? It is funny. I think it's a goddamn riot that I got the entire estate, not a trust fund that you two could rob, the whole damn thing, and you got zip! And it's even funnier that she got zip, 'cause that's the only reason a young bitch marries an old fart. But that's your fault, 'cause ya shoulda told her that you didn't get one cent when ya married Auntie Em. What a couple a' gold diggers you are."

Willie threw a curveball with a completely random Wizard of Oz reference, but Jason swiftly recovered.

"Please leave your Aunt Emily out of it."

"All her holdings will revert back to me. Hah!" He leaned back, grinning maliciously. "It's mine, baby, it's all mine."

Ernest eyed the young man's companions with embarrassment. "William, this is a private matter. I think you've had enough to drink, and we should leave."

"Oh, my goodness, you're right," he replied mockingly. "Maybe I shouldn't drink anymore. Here, you take it." William poured his cocktail down the front of his uncle's white jacket. Jason glared at him, but William smiled back smugly. "But since I'm payin' your bills at this dump, how 'bout if I tell you who leaves and when." William got in his face. "Leave." The ladies laughed awkwardly.

"Loser!" William called across the room as Ernest returned to the bar from where Anjelica and Zorin had observed the altercation. A waiter brought him a tea towel and club soda to clean the stain on his suit, and the trio moved to a secluded corner table to continue their conversation.

"I could have him killed," Zorin suggested in an effort to be helpful.

"No!" said Ernest. "There's…been enough scandal."

Anjelica momentarily considered the matter, but concluded, "He's right, it's too risky. This cannot go to trial. I already lost once." Her skirt slipped higher as she crossed her legs. "Besides, I want to see that little punk penniless and living out of a dumpster." Her eyes began to water. "He's taken everything I had!" She began to cry softly as Zorin put his arm around her.

"And we can do it." Ernest said soothingly. "There's a lawyer in Chicago who can forge an iron-clad will and testament that will post-date the original—signatures, everythin', but it will cost us $2.5 million for the document, plus another $500 grand for the fees to push it through. I know Anjelica explained to you we have the deeds to villas in the Riviera, one in Nice and one in Portofino, as collateral, but what we are is cash poor."

Anjelica squeezed Zorin's arm. "That is where you come in, Alberto. If you can front the money, it will all come to us, and little William won't have a nickel to take us to court." She grinned seductively. "He will be eating dog food."

Zorin considered the matter. "What do I get?"

Ernest looked to Anjelica who nodded approvingly. "Eleven," he responded.

"Eleven percent?"

"Eleven million. We don't want to liquidate the assets."

"Of course not," the gangster shrugged casually. "Yes, I can get you the cash, but it would be simpler just to knock him off."

"Unfortunately that wouldn't help us, because the boy also has a will," explained Ernest, "and we'll end up back in court contestin' his beneficiaries, which are a great dane and two polo ponies."

"Alberto," his lady companion said in a low voice. "Would you take me upstairs to my room? This is giving me a headache."

Ernest sent the couple off and paid the check. He then signed for William's tab and gave him the exit signal. The young magnate kissed each girl and took off, promising to meet them tomorrow.

Willie and Jason stood alone in the elevator watching the numbers light with their ascent.

"Your timing sucks. I think we were gonna have an orgy—for free. Four people could fit in my bed, doncha think?" asked Willie.

"My dry cleanin' bill is comin' out of your cut," said Jason.


The following day, Anjelica and Ernest met with Zorin to plot William's downfall, so the young man was at liberty.

Willie spent the morning at the gym and sauna, then enjoyed a heavenly massage at the spa, along with a facial where the technician (for some reason) put slices of cucumber over his eyes. The new tycoon went shopping at the court but couldn't find anything he didn't already have, until he reached the jewelry store where young Hollingshead fell in love with a man's gold ring set with a ruby and two diamonds. He couldn't believe that the sales clerk gave it to him after making a phone call; all he had to do was sign his name and room number.

William took his lunch poolside in new swim trunks. He ordered that tropical Slurpee the girls were drinking last night and filet mignon, because it was the most expensive thing on the menu. Willie had never had a steak before and it was so incredibly tender, he savored each bite instead of shoveling as he did with most meals.

A little companionship would make his day complete and finally, he spotted the object of his day's quest: that sweet, petite blonde sunbathing on the deck. He trotted around the pool and stood over her, obscuring the sunlight from her torso. Sensing this, the girl opened her eyes, squinting up and over her sunglasses.

"Get lost, creep." He didn't move. "I said, beat it." The blonde rose from her chaise and tried to leave, but William jumped in her path, removed his sunglasses and grinned.

"Hey, don't go; it's me from last night, in the bar."

She was about to sidestep him when her memory returned. "Oh, Will!" She smiled broadly. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

"I been lookin' for you. What's your name?"

"Don't you remember? I'm Curley."

After the bare minimum of socially acceptable small talk, William invited the young lady to his room for a drink.

"Can you make a piña colada?" she asked.

"I can make a scotch and ice cubes."

"Never mind. I've got something in my bag. Let's go."


Hours later, as a beautiful, deep rosy pink and golden sunset sifted through the window sheers, there was a soft knock. William's bedroom door soundlessly opened and the wall switch flipped on the overhead light. The Irishman could barely make out his partner's intertwined body and head buried in a cascade of platinum hair. The room reeked of pot and sun oil, and there were three condom wrappers on the floor.

Ernest nudged the young man's shoulder. "Master William, it's time to be gettin' up," he said softly. Will squinted out through the curtain of hair as Curley pulled up the sheet to cover herself. "I'm afraid you have a pressin' engagement. Say goodbye now to your little friend." Ernest left the room, closing the door discretely behind him.

Curley nuzzled against Will's chest as he gingerly stroked the most beautiful, pampered hair in the world. "Goodbye, little friend," he said quietly.

The couple dressed quickly and emerged from the bedroom to find the boy's uncle and stepmother sitting on the sofa, greeting them with polite, plastic smiles.

"Jason, I'm gonna walk my friend back to her room, okay? Be right back." Will escorted his date quickly out the door.

They quietly began the long walk to the elevator. He wanted to hold the young lady's hand but it suddenly felt awkward.

"Wasn't that your Uncle Ernie?" she broke the silence.

"Yeah."

"Why does he boss you around like that? I thought you were in charge."

"Well, I'm in a good mood today, and he was just remindin' me I have a meeting with my lawyer. Over dinner."

"Why did you call him Jason?"

"That's a family nickname." Will didn't miss a beat. "Because his yacht is called the Argonaut. I mean the Argo. You know, Jason and the Argonauts?"

Curley shook her head, so the young man explained as they entered the elevator.

"It's a great movie—about these gods who live on a mountain, and this guy Jason is lookin' everywhere for a golden fleece; he sails between the clashin' rocks and fights skeletons and a lady with snakes growin' out of her head."

"Gross."

"Yeah. And he has a friend, Hercules, who steals a jewelry pin the size of a—whatsit? A javelin from a treasure chamber on top of a—"

The boy shut his mouth abruptly, realizing that he was babbling, and she was bored. So, he pinned her against the wall instead, and they made out until the elevator reached her floor. When the doors opened, she stopped him.

"I'm good from here. Thanks. See you around, little friend." She was out the door and, with a cheerful laugh, bounced down the corridor.

"Hey, whatcha mean, little?" He called after her as the doors closed.

Back at their suite, Willie sat somewhat dazed on the sofa as his accomplices paced the room, lecturing him on the foolishness of bringing an outsider here, how it could jeopardize the plan, something about evidence—

But Willie was in another place. He was hungry. She had great hair. Sex was fun. Especially when it's free. Eight or nine years ago he thought sex was disgusting. Not anymore. He was really hungry. She's probably the daughter of a millionaire. Willie Loomis and an heiress, holy crap. Maybe an ambassador's daughter. She could be a princess. Princess Curley. Or a model. A short model. With his share of the take, he would be rich, too. If they gave him a fair cut. Probably not. Jason was always skimming off the top. Share and share alike…

"Are you listening to me?" McGuire snapped his fingers in the young man's face.

"Yeah, I got it, don't do it again. Can we eat?"

"Change your clothes, Master William," Raquel said, filing a fingernail. "Apparently someone made a promise to take you to a casino. So, what can I say? We go to the casino. Tonight you will make new friends and drop some balboas at the roulette table."


Another skill for which Willie Loomis would never be acclaimed was gambling. Fortunately, his outrageous losses were countered by Jason, who garnered a modest profit from the evening, and Raquel, who scored big. For her it wasn't even gambling, because men clamored to give her their money to bet. Girls got it good, Willie thought.

But it wasn't always just women, he discovered. Across the blackjack table, his eyes met with those of a young man, tall, slender and tan, impeccably dressed, wearing just a touch of makeup. His companion was an older gentleman who supplied him with high denomination chips and a steady flow of drinks. The man looked from William to Ernest, smirking.

"That could have been you," Jason whispered to his partner.

Willie looked away. "That's okay…" He stared for a moment at his paltry pile of chips. "Ya know what, I suck at this; let's go."


The following day Willie was not permitted to leave the suite. This was it—the big payoff, and their female accomplice insisted that he be out of sight. Jason had his assignment, Raquel hers, and they would be gone the whole day. Willie flopped about the sitting room, ordered room service, and watched a dubbed episode of I Dream of Jeannie.

He wished he remembered more Spanish. Cerveza, por favor, ¿Dónde está el baño? No molestar, bonita señorita, ¿que pasa? (7) If he had a genie in a bottle right now, he'd wish for some company.

Raquel turned the key in the lock and entered the room. She handed him a bottle of Bacardi and said in her strange accent, "It is time you and I are better acquainted."

"Jason said not to drink today, because of the score."

"Terminado. We have it. Jason is having lunch with Zorin now, then he will meet us at the airport with a suitcase of money." She smiled, but with a no nonsense manner. "We are going to celebrate."

"I drink the pirate rum, not the bat rum."

"This is better." The woman held up two blue capsules. "These are also for you." He looked at her quizzically. "So you will have a good time. Now, obey your stepmother." She popped the Quaaludes in his mouth.

As Raquel poured his drink, Willie wondered if he was correctly reading this situation. Then the exotic beauty, without preamble, started to unbutton his silk shirt, making her intentions obvious.

Raquel was the most gorgeous bombshell of a woman he ever saw. Jason had said she was 36, but she didn't look old to Willie. He didn't know if his partner would mind, but he couldn't help himself; the kid never felt so horny. They rolled on the sitting room carpet and crashed into the coffee table. Maybe it was because of those pills, but her bronze skin seemed to glow and she smelled like lemons. Under the drug's influence, it took a lot longer than usual for him to finish, but his enthusiasm never waned.

Afterwards she stood, picked up her dress and headed for his bedroom. "I am not comfortable here," she stated disdainfully. "Boys. You do not know the first thing about how to make love to a woman."

The young man was sprawled on the floor, panting.

"Take me to your bed. Now I will teach you the second thing." She entered his room. Willie crawled in on his hands and knees, mustering the strength for round two.


(7) Translation: Beer, please. Where is the bathroom? Do not disturb, pretty lady, what's happening?