Naked Greed

“Not tonight,” Stone replied. “You have to go home and work on your story.”

“What story?”

“The story about why you’re waking up with a hangover tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that story.”

“Right.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because she won’t be home from Chicago until tomorrow night, and by then I won’t have a hangover anymore.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

“How about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your story about why you wake up with a hangover?”

“I don’t need a story, I’m sleeping alone.”

“So am I.”

“Also, I had two less drinks than you did. Wisely.”

“That was wise,” Dino admitted. “I could sleep right here.”

The car stopped at the awning. “You don’t have to, you’re home. Come on, I’ll walk you upstairs.”

“Would you like me to wait for you, Mr. Barrington?”

“You wait for him,” Dino said.

“Yes, sir.”

Stone took Dino’s arm and walked him through the lobby to the elevator. The doorman was on the phone and didn’t seem to notice them. Upstairs, Stone hung Dino’s coat in the hall closet, walked him to his bedroom, and rummaged in his dressing room until he found a pair of pajamas. He got Dino to undress and put them on, then tucked him in and hung up his clothes.

“Good night,” Stone said, switching off the lights.

“Good night,” Dino said. “We’ll go get him in Jersey tomorrow.”

“Right,” Stone said, then walked to the front door, switching off lights as he went. Dino’s driver delivered Stone to his house, and soon he was in bed and as out as Dino.

—

Half a large pepperoni and sausage pizza and four beers later, Ryan was getting into bed when his cell phone rang. Nobody had called him on the iPhone for weeks, since Jerry Brubeck had fired him. Must be a wrong number, he thought. He didn’t recognize the area code the call was coming from. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie, did you get your package?”

“Sylvia? How the hell did you get this number? How’d you get my address?”

“There was a card in your pocket with the name of the building, and you wrote your apartment number on the back. The phone was easy: while you were in the toilet, I just turned it on, went to Settings, and tapped Phone. I’ve got an iPhone, too. Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know. I sure was at first, but now not so much.”

“You should be grateful to me—I had it all, you know, and I didn’t have to give it back.”

“I know. Why did you?”

“I told you, because you seem like a nice guy. Also, we’re kind of in the same business, so we’re colleagues, in a way.”

“Why do you think we’re in the same business?”

“Because nobody has two hundred grand, cash, in a suitcase that he earned honestly. I mean, does he?”

Ryan had to laugh.

“And you don’t win that big in a poker game or on a horse. What’d you do, rob a bank?”

“You really think I’m a bank robber?”

“Well, it was the great bank robber Willie Sutton who said, ‘That’s where the money is.’”

“He had a point.”

“So you went to Florida to knock over a bank? I’m impressed.”

“Nah, I just did a favor for a friend. It was supposed to be a horse parlor, but the cops beat us to it. The bank was an afterthought.”

“And you got out alive, too!”

“It didn’t go so well—we were set up, and I was the only one who got out.”

“Wow, set up twice in one day!”

He laughed.

“That’s a nice noise you make.”

“What did you put in my drink?”

“Nothing that would harm you. I mean, permanently. I’ll bet you slept well, didn’t you?”

“Once I had puked my guts out, yes.”

“A girl in my game has to be careful.”

“I guess so. Do you work that train all the time?”

“Goodness no—a girl who looks like I do would get recognized by the conductor and end up getting picked up by the cops.”

“Does that happen to you often?”

“Never. The marks are too embarrassed. Also, I never get as much as I got from you. It’s usually a few hundred. I can spot the guys who carry a wad. Not as big a wad as you, though. I saw all those hundreds at the table, but boy, was I surprised when I opened that suitcase! Sorry I had to take the bag, but I couldn’t get all that into my purse.”

“I guess not. What made you call me?”

“Even a grifter can get horny,” she said. “Anyhow, you have a way with a girl’s nipple. If I hadn’t already slipped you the mickey at that point, I’d have had you in the sack in no time.”

“Where are you?”

“That would be telling.”

“I can look up the area code of your phone.”

“Okay, I’m in Charleston, where I live. I work up and down the coast, but home is here, and I don’t foul my own nest.”

“What did you do with the money?”

“That hundred grand? It’s already in the stock market. My broker doesn’t mind cash.”

“You ever get to New York?”

“Sometimes. I like New York, there are lots of elegant bars where a girl can get bought a drink and make a score, and there are so many ways to get out of town in a hurry, if it becomes necessary.”

“Why don’t you come up tomorrow for a couple days? I’ll get us a nice hotel suite.”

“Really?”

“I still haven’t worked the other nipple.”

“Oh, you know how to get a girl wet, don’t you?”

“How about it?”

“You’re sure you’re not still mad at me?”

“Nah. I’ll tell you the whole story about the bank.”

“Do I get to pick the hotel?”

“Sure.”

“The Four Seasons,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to stay there.”

“Done. I’ll meet you there tomorrow. What time?”

“Well, let’s see, there’s a plane midafternoon, plus cab time. Say, six o’clock in the bar?”

“You’re on.”

“I’ve got your number—you want mine?”

“It’s in my phone now.”

“Night-night, sweetie. Dream about me.” She hung up.

Ryan called the Four Seasons and booked a suite. He gulped at the price, but he had the money, so what the hell?

Ryan picked up his dry cleaning and laundry and packed a three-night bag, just in case. He was as horny as he had ever been in his life. It had been weeks since he’d gotten laid, and he was very itchy.

He took five grand from his stash in the safe he had bolted to the cement floor in his closet. He thought about taking ten grand, but the last time he’d had a pocketful of money, somebody had stolen it, and he still didn’t entirely trust her. While he was at it he took the bank bands off the cash and replaced them with rubber bands, then burned the bands in the sink and ran them through the garbage disposal.

He showered and shaved and dressed in a freshly pressed suit, so as to fit in at the Four Seasons. He would allow an hour and a half for the drive into the city, twice as long as usual, because it would be rush hour, and the tu

—

Dino called Stone.

“How you feeling?”

“Chipper, fine. Didn’t we have this conversation before?”

“Not after last night.”

“What about last night?”

“Aren’t you just the tiniest bit hungover?”

“Why should I be hungover?”