Ghosts - Matt Rogers (warren buffett book recommendations .TXT) 📗

thought he knew. They’re no-nonsense. They don’t waste time. They know what they want, and you’re going to give it to them.

Informing his most reliable worker.

King glanced at Slater — it was imperceptible, but their eyes met, and everything that needed to be conveyed passed from man to man.

Slater leant into her, getting awfully close, and said, ‘I think we’d like that very much.’

‘“We”?’ she said, trying her best to make her gaze tantalising.

Slater said, ‘If we both wanted you, would that be a problem?’

Her eyes lit up, clouded by drink.

She saw two young fit guys — young in comparison to the rest of the clientele, at least — but above all she saw dollar signs.

She said, ‘Honey, that’d be the furthest thing from a problem. I mean, look at you both.’

She talks like she’s thirty, King said.

He quietly hated this hellhole even more.

Now he leant forward, getting closer to her, and said, ‘Are there rooms here?’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘You want to go now?’

He shook his head.

Slater did too.

She glanced at each of them, the smile fixed on her face. ‘You don’t like the sound of that?’

‘We have a place,’ Slater said. ‘It’s a rental. It’s way nicer than this dump.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Where?’

‘Summerlin.’

She thought it over. The mask slipped a little. She said, ‘Armando only lets us do outcall to hotels on the Strip. You know … for safety reasons.’

King said, ‘Let us talk some sense into him.’

She said, ‘Be careful.’

Slater raised an eyebrow.

She said, ‘He gets angry sometimes.’

‘So do we,’ King said. ‘Go get him. But … do us a favour.’

She drenched her features with lust. ‘Anything.’

‘Tell him how much you want this,’ King said. ‘We’ll make it worth your while.’

She shivered. Not as hilariously fake as the rest of her act. The Long Island was kicking in. ‘I’m sure you will.’

She put her elbows on the table so she could lean over and get them both within earshot.

‘It’s not often that I actually enjoy my work,’ she said.

Then she got up and waltzed toward a side door behind the opposite row of booths.

The grimy neon swallowed her whole.

15

Slater fought for control.

He wanted nothing more than to get up, follow Melanie into the back room, and beat Gates to a pulp.

He refrained.

The bigger picture, he reminded himself.

In their newfound privacy he muttered to King, ‘We pull her out of this and the cover’s blown. And she’s been effectively brainwashed. She won’t want to go. Not yet.’

‘I know,’ King said.

‘So?’

‘So roll with it. I’m working on something.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Care to—?’

But he shut right up when Gates materialised. The lanky thug minimised his presence, keeping to the shadows as he floated around the back of the booths. Slater likened the man to a spindly wraith. Gates looped round in front of them and dropped into the space Melanie had occupied.

He said, ‘You two don’t mess about, do you?’

‘She got right to it,’ Slater said. ‘Not our fault.’

‘You can appreciate that I’ve got rules,’ he said. ‘Right, boys? Rules make the world go round.’

‘We appreciate it,’ King said.

‘I don’t break them.’

‘Okay.’

‘Get a hotel suite with her,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a couple of places on call. Let me handle it.’

Slater got to his feet, making everything real awkward real quick. Gates hovered in his seat, the sinew on his bare arms rippling. He stayed slouched, making no effort to slip aside to allow Slater to pass.

Gates said, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Leaving,’ Slater said. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘I thought we were talking.’

‘We were.’

The bass throbbed. The girls danced. The lights flickered.

The conversational drought stretched out.

King said, ‘Sit.’

Slater didn’t move.

King said, ‘Sit.’

Slater sat.

Tentatively.

Like he was being held from leaving by a frayed string, mere ounces of pressure away from snapping.

Gates said, ‘Why don’t you two tell me what you want?’

‘We already told her,’ Slater said. ‘She already told you.’

‘And what do I do if you two sick fucks take her back to your private residence and take it too far? What if I never hear back from her?’

Gates spoke every word as if the answer was obvious.

Flexing his underworld presence.

Revealing the unhinged danger in his eyes.

King said, ‘That won’t be a problem.’

‘I only just met you both,’ Gates said. ‘We’re not exactly friends. I can’t trust you.’

Slater made to get up again.

King slammed a hand down on his shoulder and planted him firmly back on the vinyl.

‘Get your hand off me,’ Slater hissed.

‘I like her,’ King said. ‘I want her. Let’s hear the man out.’

Gates said, ‘You two are businessmen.’

King nodded.

Slater sat rigid. Cold like steel.

Gates said, ‘I’m a businessman.’

King nodded again.

Gates said, ‘Businessmen compromise.’

Slater visibly relaxed a little.

King said, ‘We’re open to that.’

‘She’s five k for an overnight,’ Gates said. ‘Usually. I’m bumping it up to eight if we’re going this route.’

‘That’s doable.’

‘Eight per man. So sixteen total.’

‘Sure.’

‘And I’m sending a few of my boys along for the ride.’

‘What?’ Slater said.

‘You heard me.’

This time, Slater didn’t get up. They had the pimp right where they wanted him, so the act shifted.

Gates said, ‘I’ve never — not once — allowed this to happen. If I’m doing it tonight, you can be damn sure I’m taking the proper precautions.’

Slater started, ‘If you think—’ but King dropped the same hand on the same shoulder, silencing him.

King said, ‘Who are your boys?’

‘Guys that work for me,’ Gates said. ‘No more questions about them. You’ll leave the Bentley here as collateral. That’s got to be — what? — a two hundred thousand dollar car? I’ve got a limo in the garage, for clients who want the full fantasy. You’ll take that. One of my guys will drive, and there’ll be three more in the back with you and Melanie, so I’d wait until you get to your place to start the fun. You’ll get there, you’ll go inside, you’ll do your business, and my guys will wait out front. I want her back here by five in the morning. My guys are there to make sure you stick to that schedule.’

‘What if we