The Color of Law_ A Novel - Mark Gimenez [99]
Jeffrey departed and Penny said, “He likes to watch action movies,” then went into the master bathroom. Shortly, he heard Penny’s voice again: “Scott, what’s this, in the steam shower?”
Scott walked into the bathroom and over to the shower. The door was open; Penny was inside, sitting on the built-in bench.
“What?”
“This.”
Scott stepped inside to look, and without another word, Penny grabbed his swim trunks, yanked them down, and took him in her mouth like she knew what she was doing. She did. He was wrong about Penny: she hadn’t finished her walk on the wild side. Scott had not had sex in more than seven months and had been too depressed to masturbate since Rebecca left, so he did not last long.
“Jesus!”
Scott’s face was now plastered to the tile wall and he felt like a nap but—
“Penny!”
Jeffrey was back. Scott pulled up his trunks and Penny wiped her red lips with her hanky just as Jeffrey stuck his head in the steam shower and said with a big grin, “Wow, you do have Dolby down there!”
Scott stepped out of the shower, followed closely by Penny, who squeezed his butt as she passed. Fifteen minutes later, they were all standing at the front door.
Jeffrey said, “You don’t remember me, do you, Scott?”
Scott said, “No. Should I?”
“We worked a real-estate deal a few years ago. You were representing Dibrell, a garden office project in North Dallas.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re with Dewey Cheatham and Howe.”
“Dewey Chatham and Howe.”
“Oh, right.”
“You were pretty tough on us. But I learned a lot about negotiating from watching you in action.”
“I’ll send you a bill.” Jeffrey smiled and Scott said, “Just business. Nothing personal.”
“Then you won’t take my offer personally.”
“What’s your offer?”
“Three million one hundred thousand.”
“No, I won’t take it personally, Jeffrey, because I won’t take it.”
Jeffrey smirked. “Come on, Scott, your life story’s been in the paper. Everyone knows you’ve got to sell. You can’t expect top dollar.”
Scott reached over to the entry table and picked up a big brown envelope that contained his final bill from the country club for the last month, during which Rebecca had run up over $4,000 in charges. Scott held the envelope up to Jeffrey.
“I’ve already got an offer for three-point-three million.”
Jeffrey’s smirk vanished. “You’re kidding?”
Scott put on his most sincere look and said, “Nope.”
Jeffrey glanced at Penny. She gave him that pouty face mastered by Highland Park girls by middle school, a face that walked a fine line between obnoxiously whiny and incredibly sexy, between making her man want to slap her into next week or rip her clothes off and ravage her. Penny was very good. And Scott knew Jeffrey would find the extra money to make Penny a happy Highland Park wife.
“Three million three hundred ten thousand.”
Scott smiled. “Jeffrey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you can’t afford this place.”
Scott had learned years ago, when he was the poor kid on the block, that you could insult a Highland Park boy’s mother, his sister, his girlfriend, his athletic ability, and even the size of his dick without getting a rise, but question his financial standing in the community, and the fight was on. Jeffrey’s face was