California Schemin' - Kate George [31]
The view wasn’t spectacular like it was from the hotel in Washington, but the room itself was very tasteful, and I’d venture to guess very expensive. There was a plush bed with a faintly shimmery duvet cover and at least eight pillows, a tasteful couch in the same peach tones across from a TV the size of a picture window.
Hammie was not happy. He had his back to the room, looking out the window as he talked on his cell. His replies were terse. I was sitting cross-legged on the comfy bed, leaning against the head board with a People magazine while Hammie talked and The Driver sat in a chair by the door, snickering.
“He should know better,” The Driver said.
“Know better than what?” Now that we were here, and the drugs were wearing off I was feeling strangely calm. I wondered if I was in shock, but the strangest thing was the pain in my neck was totally gone.
“To think he’s got any control over the situation. He thinks if he just sticks this out, he’ll get his life back. He’s just getting deeper and deeper in.”
I looked from The Driver to Hammie and back again.
“What’s your name? I think Hammie told me, but I don’t remember. I can’t keep thinking of you as The Driver. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Marshall, but my friends call me Moose. I’m the brains.” He laughed at his own joke.
“Just what is Hammie getting deeper into? Something to do with me, I’d guess.”
“I’m not allowed to tell you.” Moose looked regretful. “But I imagine you’ll know before too long.”
“It’s too bad you can’t slam a cell phone,” I said to Hammie as he clicked his phone shut. “That would probably make you feel much better.”
“Hah! Nothing could make me feel better at this point. What size are you? I’ve got to go buy you a dress.”
“What do I need a dress for?”
“We’re going to a jazz concert.”
“A jazz concert? That’s interesting.” In the back of my brain I was thinking this could only be a dream.
“So, what size?”
I told him my size, and he took off, leaving Moose in charge of me. I picked up the phone next to the bed and dialed the front desk. Before anyone could answer Moose had taken the phone from me and replaced it in the receiver.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to need to shave my legs if I’m wearing a dress. I was going to ask the front desk to send me a razor.”
“Hang on.” Moose opened a door I hadn’t noticed and walked into an adjoining room. He came back with a disposable razor.
“Here. It’s new. I usually travel with several.”
I hid my amazement and got to my feet. I swayed for a moment, still kind of woozy from the drugs. I made it into the bathroom and locked the door. Then I put the toilet lid down and sat with my head between my knees, hoping I wouldn’t pass out while locked in the bathroom.
I managed my shower by leaning against the wall whenever dizziness overtook me. I shaved my legs, but I had the feeling that I wasn’t doing a very good job. Hell, who was going to be looking at my legs anyway? Certainly not Hammie, not that I’d want Hammie to look at them. He wasn’t my type. All brawn, a get-things-done-and-damn-the-consequences kind of guy.
I was back on the bed, wearing a hotel robe and a towel in my hair, when Hammie returned. He tossed a pretty blue dress with a matching jacket on the bed along with a Macy’s bag. I grabbed the bag and pulled out a bra, panties and a pair of nylons.
“I’m impressed. How’d you know what size bra I wear?”
“I’m a good judge of a woman’s figure. Lots of experience.”
Moose snorted.
“He called me on the phone while you were in the shower, so I picked the lock and checked the tags in your clothes. You know that bra you were wearing is so old I could barely make out the size? That couldn’t be giving you enough support.”
“I do not want to discuss