Dark Handsome

*****

I debated a long time before I contacted Sharon again. I went to the club, assured the guys I wasn't working, and sat down. If I knew the bouncers or management of anywhere I was staking out, I usually told them. Most were pretty sharp anyway, and would have figured it out sooner or later. This way they didn't hassle me, as long as I bought the minimum drink quota, tipped the waitress, and kept their name out of it. I drank many a fifteen dollar soft drink designed to look like rum and coke. It all went into expenses anyway.

I told Manny, their Chief of Security, that I was working on a personal project not related to my company, and that I wanted to speak to Sharon. He passed the word along, and soon she was serving me a Coke with a slice of lemon. Leaning over enough for me to get a down blouse shot of a black lace bra, she spoke quietly. "After work. The IHOP on Third."

I sat and enjoyed the view. Yeah, men are pigs, but I wasn't trying to do anything, so I looked. Honeypot saw me, pissed almost everyone in the bar off by kissing my cheek, and plopped down. "Back again, sugar? It's me, isn't it? I knew it, one taste of brown sugar and white girls would look like ghosts. For you, Dark Handsome, it would be free. Just never tell anyone. I do have a reputation to live down to."

I grinned and kissed her hand, surprising the shit out of her. "I don't think I could handle you. One shot and you would ruin me. I'd spend the rest of my life trying to find someone with half your beauty and bedroom skills, and never succeed. So, as attractive as the offer is, I think I'll pass. Anyway, I don't think your man would approve."

She looked surprised. "How did you know he was here? I've asked him not to come, because I hate for him to see me work, but he does anyway. It's killing both of us."

"It was pretty easy to pick him out. He's the only guy in the room who looks like he could kill me and smile while he's doing it. Bring him over, tell him I'm an old friend you haven't seen in a while, and that we were never lovers. It might look better if I actual know your real name. Maybe he'll calm down."

She looked shocked, then smiled. "I think I will. Just for cover, I'll tell him you're here for Sharon, that you're her boyfriend. I'll let her know so she can play along." Honeypot started walking off, then looked over her shoulder. "Be sure and call me Jasmine. That's my real name."

She talked to her guy for a few minutes, gave him a big kiss, and went to work. He walked over and I stood as he approached, holding out my hand. "Hi. My name's Dirk. Jasmine and I go back a ways, and it's good to see she's finally met someone. I was wondering if it was ever going to happen."

Timing is everything. Sharon showed up with fresh drinks as we shook, setting them down with a flourish and giving me a peck on the cheek. "Compliments of Honey... er, Jasmine. She said to say it was for her two favorite guys. Remember, honey, I'll see you after work. Back to the grind."

We watched her sway off, and one guy, a little drunk, reached out and fondled her ass as she went by. I was half out of the seat when one of the bouncers grabbed him and hustled him out. Everybody knew the rules. No touching the waitresses. The guy at the table with me grinned. "I'm Jim. You never get used to it, do you?"

"Not at all. It must be really hard on you."

He sighed. "It is. It's why I almost never come around. I love Jasmine, and I think she loves me as much as she's capable, but I'm to the point that it's not enough. I'm seriously thinking about ending the relationship. I'll give her the car as a parting gift, and pay the rent on the apartment for another year, but I'm done."

Well, that was surprising. "Does she know?"

"Not yet. We're supposed to be together tomorrow, so I think I'll tell her then. I don't want to do it here. Look, I know you're her friend, so I hope you understand. I'm not judging her for her past, I'm looking at the present. I'm no choirboy, I've done things you could never imagine in my past life, but one thing I've always been, on the job and in my private life, is faithful. She can't be, and I can't live with it anymore."

"It's going to hurt her pretty bad, you know?"

He looked me in the eye, and it suddenly struck me that this could be a very dangerous man. I don't know what he did, but I got the feeling his past wasn't spent behind a desk. He was six-six at least, two inches taller than me, and weighed in the neighborhood of two-fifty, and I didn't notice any fat. I was pretty sure by the way he positioned himself that he was armed, carrying it on his right side. I wondered why the bouncers allowed it. Something wasn't adding up, here. "You think it's not going to hurt me? This is the very first time I've felt anything like love in my whole life. I found her when I was looking for someone to use in a Honey-trap, but I liked her so much I used someone else. It took me four weeks to get her to just have coffee with me, two more before we became intimate. I tried to justify what she does, but I just can't anymore."

"What do you do for a living?"

He passed me a card. "Thomas Paine & Associates, Personal Security Management Specialists"

"Bodyguard?"

"Some, in the first days. Now we plan and coordinate security for high profile clients, put in security systems, plan landscaping to prevent incursions, provide trained guard dogs, even provide personal protection for overseas trips if the client requires it. That's just the broad strokes, it's really a lot more complicated but the details would bore you. They do me, but I can't afford to miss anything. It's not a nine-to-five job, but it pays very, very well, and I've become quite successful at it."

"Why haven't I heard of you?"

"All our advertising is word of mouth from others we've done work for. I employ fifty people full-time, and twice that number part-time. What about you? You look like an actor, but you got cop eyes. They're like mine, and I bet we've both scanned the room ten times since we've been talking."

I grinned. The guy was really good. "Third generation law enforcement, before the acting bug got me. Now I work for a P.I. to pay bills while I try to get a break."

He looked at my card and gave me his own grin. "Ever freelance? There's times when I could use new faces. Nothing serious, at least a first, but I pay well."

I told him I'd think about it. Working for Jack was getting old. Maybe it was time to step up the game. We talked about sports, guns, and life in general while we waited for Honeypot's set to end. When it did, she came bouncing up, hugging all over Tom. She looked happy while he looked miserable, at least when she wasn't looking. She went off to circulate, and I stood.

"Gotta go. It was nice meeting you, Tom. I don't know you well enough to give you any advice, but if I did it would be to lay everything out, offer her a choice and a chance. She might surprise you."

Sharon met me at the diner, the fear plain on her face.

"You need to relax. I come in peace and mean you no harm. I do, however, have some things you need to hear. First though, let's eat. I haven't eaten much today, and I'm starved. My treat, so order whatever you want."

"Ooh, Mr. Big Spender. It's a feaking' IHOP! I doubt they serve caviar and crepes, with Mimosas. I'll have the pancakes, if you can afford it." It was said with a lot of venom, her stare hostile and aggressive.

I'd been up for 22 hours, was dead on my feet, here to do a pretty big favor for someone I didn't really know, and I get this shit? Not saying another word, I got up and left. By left, I mean I left the table, left the restaurant, and in was in my car before she had time to react. She was running out the door when I pulled into traffic.

My phone must have rang ten times before I got back to my apartment. All the calls were from her, and she left five messages. Damn I was tired. I decided I may or may not listen to them after a few hours of sleep, and fell into bed.

...

I crashed until noon. Then I went into the office to see what my next case would be. It turned out to be a friend of mine. He, too, had run afoul of Mr. Hollywood, and he'd tried to ruin his life as well. He couldn't get work on major films after that, and he ended up starting his own company and directing commercials for a living. Bob once told me he was surprised at how much he liked it.

"I don't have to fly all over the world, spend time in absolute hell holes for weeks on end, and put up with the actors, the producers, the director, and flunkies that are always on sets. I have regular office hours, never work weekends, and get home at a reasonable hour."

Bob was at one time considered one of the best second unit directors around. A second unit director was the guy responsible for the action scenes. His car chases were considered epic. Bob grinned, then told me he'd been approached by a British company to direct some scenes for their next project. "It'll be New Zealand for about eight weeks, and it will be summertime when we go. I'm taking Minnie and the kids, and we're going to treat it as a long vacation. I just want to keep my hand in, just in case."

I congratulated him. He asked me if I still worked. "No, I got a pretty cold shoulder for a long time, so I gave it a rest. I've been in a few indy films in minor roles, still got my card, but lately, nothing. I don't even have an agent right now."

He grinned. "Do a good job for me, and I'll use you some. As man pretty as you are, women would buy jugs of air if you pushed them."

We took the case. He was pretty sure he was losing money but couldn't really pinpoint where. He'd gone over all the records and they seemed legitimate, but he wasn't convinced. "I hate a thief, Dirk. I worked too hard to build this business to let the money wander away. Help me out here."

Alice and I did the leg work while Gerry tore his records apart. It wasn't one person stealing; it was almost everyone who worked for him, from the accountants to the prop guys. Seems almost all of them were related by blood or marriage. All were padding five to seven percent to the costs. I figured out who the ringleader was, sent Alice in undercover as a supplier, and watched her work her magic while Gerry documented everything.

In the end, it would have taken too much time and money to charge them and recoup his losses. Bob just fired them, en masse, and put the word out. Some saw the writing on the wall and quit before they could get fired, to better their chances at another company. Most all had trouble finding jobs, and the ones that did work took lower paying positions and were watched like hawks. Hollywood isn't all about the magic; it's all about the money.

I was surprised to get a call from Honey... er, Jasmine. She sounded miserable. "Hi, sugar. I could really use a friend right about now. I want your advice."

"Sure. When and where?"

She gave directions to a little diner thirty miles away. I wondered at the distance, and told her I'd be there as quickly as possible.

She looked as miserable as she sounded. Dressed simply in a modest sundress, hair in a bun, she looked nothing like the temptress she portrayed on stage. Jasmine looked like she would be comfortable on the sidelines of a soccer match, watching her children play. She had light makeup on, and it still didn't hide the puffiness of her eyes. Her hug was tight, almost desperate.

"Thanks for coming. You're the only friend I have honest enough to tell me the truth."

"What's wrong?," I asked, as the waitress brought us both huge glasses of sweet, Southern style tea. The place wasn't exactly soul food, but it did have a strong Southern focus on it's cooking, and was quite successful.

"Tom left me! He says he loves me too much to keep sharing me, it just hurts him too much. I never thought I'd say that about a man, but I love him! What am I going to do?"

"Did he say anything about getting back together?"

"He said if I could look him in the eye and promise to be exclusive, he'd have a ring on my finger so fast it would be surreal. He even gave me a timeline. I have three more weeks. Married? Me? What if I do it and get urges down the line?"

I sighed. She probably wasn't going to like what I was about to say. "It all comes down to what you really want. You seem more than happy with Tom. I know what I'd like to see you do, but it's your decision."

"What would you do if you were me?"

"I'd think about what I really want. Is the casual sex worth your love for him? I think you've been conditioned because of your past to think yourself unworthy of love, but that's bullshit. Everybody is worthy of love. But true love comes at a price. I also think you need to learn to love yourself first, to break your conditioning, and become the woman you deserve to be. You need to see someone, let them guide you through the process. Either way, in the end you'll understand yourself better. Who knows? It might lead you back to Tom."

She sat, tears leaking, nodding her head. I felt a presence and looked up into those startling blue eyes. "HI, Sharon."

She was obviously uncomfortable. "Um, hi. Jas called me, said she needed some support. I don't think she considered that you would actually come, but we're both glad you're here."

I shrugged. "I consider her a friend, and I don't have that many. Why wouldn't I come?"

She sighed. "I don't know, exactly. Maybe it's because I've got such a jaded outlook on life. Anyway, I'm glad you're here for her. And I echo what you said. Jas, he's right. It's time to let go of your old life, even if you don't get back together with Tom. Respect yourself, and others will have no choice. Personally, from what I've seen in the last few months, you feel like crap every time you have sex with someone else."

We petted her for a while, until she started feeling better. The other patrons got an eyeful when she gave both of us a full mouth kiss. I don't know about Sharon, but I got a little tongue. She grinned. "Sure you wouldn't like a spin in case I decide to be monogamous? Might be your last chance."

"I decline for a number of reasons. First, if I do and you get back together with Tom, and I never get you again, I have a feeling that would be a burden I couldn't bear. Second, it would be for all the wrong reasons, and meaningless sex is just that, meaningless. However, since I like you, it wouldn't be meaningless, and would hurt all the more."

Both women were staring at me. It was kind of creepy. "What?"

"Wow. You sure you're a man? That was a little deep for a pretty boy PI/actor."

"Hey! I read books. Besides, it's what I feel. Never had a man talk about feelings before?"

They looked at me, then at each other, grinning. Then they started chuckling, which devolved into full laughter. I was starting to get a little pissed when Jas took my hand. "No, sugar, we never have. It's a new and novel experience. Don't you agree, Shar?"

"Absolutely. It was a very nice experience. After all, in our world we're stared at and dissected like insects in their minds. They don't care if we have feelings, as long as they can bury themselves in one of our orifices. Being treated like we actually have brains is very rare, being talked to like an equal even more so."

Jas rose, smiling. Then she gently kissed my cheek. "Thanks, handsome. I wish maybe I'd met you before I started down the path I've been on. Oh well, maybe my loss can be Sharon's gain. You two would make absolutely gorgeous little vanilla babies. Aunt Jasmine could be your babysitter, when you need alone time. I've always liked children."

Sharon sat openmouthed while I grinned. "Thanks. Who knows, if you follow the right path, you may have a few of your own. We could have playdates. I've always considered vanilla and chocolate the two best flavors."

Jas stopped smiling, a faraway look in her eyes. Then she grinned, fluttering those long lashes. "Who knows. If I do, you can bet you guys will be their favorite aunt and uncle. Thanks, Dirk, for everything. You too, Sharon. I've never really had friends, and now I have two besties. Gotta go, I have a lot of thinking to do."

I watched her sway off, admiring the movement of her tight bottom. I looked up to see Sharon grinning. "You just can't stop yourself, can you?"

"Why would I ever want to?"

Her grin was genuine. " Still a pig. By all means, carry on. Since we're here, and I haven't eaten yet, buy me lunch. I'll have the barbeque, if it doesn't hurt you to watch a relative being consumed."

"Oh, we pigs can be quite pragmatic. I may even stoop to a little cannibalism, and join you."

We talked a little about unimportant things until the food arrived. I opted for the sweet Piedmont style of sauce, while she was old school, ordering the vinegar based. It was a very enjoyable meal. She went with the ribs while I took the pulled pork. The girl sure had a healthy appetite. She moaned a little as she leaned back, a pile of bones surrounding her plate. "I'm glad this place isn't close. I'd weigh two hundred pounds in a month."

I laughed. She was pretty tall, about five nine or ten, I'd guess, and might weigh one-thirty. She sat up, a determined look on her face. "Want to tell me what the last time we met was about?"

"I was trying to do you a favor, an act of kindness from one human to another. That's the only agenda I had. I was already having a pretty irritating day, and had been up for almost 24 hours. When you spewed that venom at me, it was the last straw. It was either leave or have a very ugly very public confrontation. So I left. Not all men are pigs, you know."

She looked pensive. "I'm sorry. I'd had a pretty bad day myself. My roommate had moved out, in love with a man who I knew would treat her badly, so I had to carry the whole rent myself. Then at work I got groped and fondled three times, so I was down on men already. You reminded me of the bleakest time in my life, and I guess I let you take the fallout from all of it. For what it's worth, I am sorry. Any chance we could have the conversation now?"

"Sure. Not here though. Too open. It would probably be best if I gave you what I have privately, but, realizing your distrust of men, it's why I chose IHOP in the middle of the night. I knew it wouldn't be crowded, and most of them would be on the tail end of a party night and not paying attention. Plus, I have things to give you, things that should not be seen by other people."

Her eyes were wide. "Mysterious much? I have this weekend off, all the way to Tuesday. I needed the break, so we can meet anytime, anywhere, within reason."

"Sorry, I'm leaving at noon tomorrow, taking a mini-vacation. Like you, I need a break. Maybe next week?"

"Where you going?"

I wondered why she wanted to know that. "Camping, Washington State. Maybe do a little fishing. It's pack in only, no amenities. It's a great place, there is no light pollution, and the stars are amazing. The fishing is pretty good, too."

"God, I could use a break like that. I'd like to breathe real air for a change, be surrounded by trees instead of tall buildings." I saw the change in her eyes. "Mind if I come along?"

Boy, that was a surprise. She saw the hesitation in my eyes. "I'll be good, I promise. And don't worry about me keeping up. I work out, but I really miss walking. Think about it, please. I have to go now, let me call Uber."

"Why would you call Uber when we're both going in the same direction? Come on, I'll give you a ride."

I think my vehicle surprised her. It was a 1988 Bronco II, restored until it looked brand new. I got it for practically nothing, and worked on it in my spare time. New shocks, ball joints and arm assemblies, had the automatic transmission rebuilt, along with the little V6. Then I had it painted a gloss black, the original color, even redid the interior. For a little less than five grand I had a practically new car. My uncle had one when I was a kid, and I always liked riding in it.