"Caught in the act," she chuckled. "I never have been able to fool you. I did come with a special request."
"What kind of request?" came a feminine voice from the door and Deborah walked to her friend and kissed her cheek. Deborah towered over both of them. At six feet tall she stood a full half foot over her husband and Darleen. Her long silken white hair accented the smooth rising of her breasts through the low cut minidress that hung a full twelve inches above her knees. Darleen always envied the taller woman's beauty and height, thinking that it would give her a special power over men, but she wasn't jealous. They were good friends.
After a few pleasant exchanges about each other's health and looks, Deborah asked again, "What kind of request were you about to make to my man?"
Darleen accepted a drink from Peter and said, "Do you remember the couple that Martin and I told you about the last time we were here together?"
"Richards, wasn't it," Peter said. "I remember Martin saying that he hoped to get them here after a little special work."
"That's right," she continued. "And now, we are nearly ready. Martin is asking them to come to the beach with us for the weekend. Apparently the time is right. He has already had a taste of the girl. He told me to tell you that, Peter. Says you'll really enjoy her."
"Well, good," he said, "But why the request? Why not just bring them in some night?"
"There is something special about them. The girl is young, and especially naive. She has some kind of idea that she's better than any of the rest of the world, and I want to teach the proud little bitch a lesson she won't forget for awhile."
"Women are vengeful animals," he smiled knowingly. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well, we always have a special initiation for new members and I have a really good one for her," she said. "Your animal, Monroe."
Peter whistled softly. "That's dangerous, you know. You wouldn't believe the way that brute's hung, but that alone isn't the crux. He could become violent. There are only certain types of women that he can stand, and I doubt if your sweet little friend would be one of them."
"But if he were under strict orders," she said. "He wouldn't do anything to her. Nothing that would cause anything more than a little pain and humiliation, and she needs that."
"I suppose that might work," he said. "But we'll have to be careful."
"We might enjoy watching," Deborah interjected.
"Precisely what I had in mind," Darleen said, smiling to her friend and seeing the hulking Monroe standing in the open door behind her.
"Come in," Peter said. "We were just talking about you. Mrs. Kelly, here, likes you. She has an idea that should please you a great deal."
The huge bodyguard stood for a moment, digesting the simple sentences he had just heard. He always made a point of listening precisely to what Peter told him. He owed everything to him and felt that no request was too much to do for his employer.
The smaller man had attained sainthood as far as the ex-ballplayer was concerned. Monroe had been seriously hurt in a game six years before and the brain injuries he had incurred had made it impossible for him to ever play again. If Peter Grant had not taken care of him, Monroe would be living on skid row like any other broken down athlete who hadn't planned for the future.
Peter had paid all the bills because his success, as the success of many men, had earned him an assortment of enemies, some of whom would not hesitate to resort to violence to stop him. A bodyguard was a good idea and Grant took advantage of the injured ballplayer, enlisting his services as a temporary bodyguard, but his supposed generosity had won him a worshiper for life.
"Good, Boss, if you say so," Monroe said, looking quizzically at Peter. It was very seldom that he was allowed any real pleasure. He spent most of his waking hours ensuring that his boss was comfortable and safe.
"Of course, I say so, Monroe. Just do as Mrs. Kelly directs."
Monroe nodded and she spoke. "My husband and I are bringing a girl here Wednesday night. We are going to take her upstairs. You know what happens there don't you."
He answered her. There was little that he didn't know as far as the upstairs was concerned. He was an assistant host as well as body guard.
"Good. The girl and her husband have never been initiated into the club and as this is their first time, we thought you might like to take part in the ceremony," she said. Darleen always talked to Monroe as if he were a child because it always gave her a feeling of superiority. He understood everything that she said, and though she didn't realize it would not have been so lenient with her condescending tone of voice if she had not been a friend of Peter's.
She continued adding spice to her words. "You can have the girl in bed. She's young and very, very beautiful, but too innocent. You could teach her so many things."
"And we'll all be watching to make certain you do it right," Peter smiled. Monroe, too, was smiling at the prospect, but he wasn't sure if he should be used like that, to have people watch him. Most of the parties upstairs had involved people watching other people in bed, but he had never been a part of it, except for a few fleeting glances at the bedroom acrobats. Peter's reassuring voice, though, told him it would be all right. Monroe knew that his boss had done the same thing more than once, so he felt, perhaps it would be a privilege.
"Settled, then," Peter said. "As long as Monroe agrees, there can be no harm. I'll walk you to the door, Darleen, Deborah, you go ahead and finish upstairs. We'll have a big crowd tonight, though not as big as the one we should plan for next Wednesday," he grinned. "Monroe will help you get everything arranged."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Janet hesitantly opened the front door to her house and her heart jumped to her throat. Martin was standing outside. He had raised his hand to knock again and she stared at the upraised fist in a sudden terror. "Hey, don't be frightened," he said jokingly. "You scared me as much as I did you."
The girl drew in a deep breath and stepped aside. She knew it would do no good to try to keep him out. Until Greg's embezzlement was covered up she would have to remain his servant. It was the first time she had heard from him in five days and had hoped that he would have decided not to do anything. Perhaps he has changed his mind, was all she could think of since that night, though, she knew it was not true. That would just not be like Martin at all and was just too much to pray for.
"Shall we start with coffee again," he said with a cocky grin, his words a directive more than a question.
"I don't have the time, Martin. I have to pick Greg up at the office," she lied, trying to stall him off as best she could.
"Now, Janet. I'm picking Greg up in two hours. Should we go in the same car, or did you want to split him?" he laughed. He had told her husband that he would drive him home in order to make sure that he would be safe and alone with Janet.
"Alright," she said walking dejectedly to the kitchen to heat the coffee. He followed her down the hallway silently and she wished he would speak. What can he want? she thought. The only good that had come from her night with Martin, was that now she and her husband were fighting for something together. But they had no weapons, and did not really know what they were fighting. Martin had not made anything clear. It was up to him to set the battleline. They would be on the defensive, until then, no matter what.
And… Janet knew, though she would not admit it to herself, that she still had horrible mixed emotions about her night with Martin. As she pulled a cup and saucer from the cupboard she could not remove the image of Martin's demands on her body that had given her so much pleasure not many nights before.
"I'm not drinking alone," he said, interrupting her thoughts.