‘What makes you think that?’ I was curious. She glanced at the leather trousers she had peeled off me last night. ‘You’ve got ambition. It’s in your eyes. Even in the dark, I saw it. You’ll be as rich as Croesus, one day. You just wait and see.’
I felt a rush of sympathy for her. She’d never be rich or famous the way she was going. ‘Listen, you have a truly beautiful voice, way better than Beyoncé. You should record a music demo and send it to some record companies.’
‘Now no one after lighting a lamp covers it over with a container, or puts it under a bed; but he puts it on a lampstand, that those who come in may see the light.’
And I froze in astonishment. No fucking way. It could not be a coincidence. If I had turned left when I exited the casino. If I had gone into the bar before this one. If I had left as soon as I saw the state of the bar. If she had not at that moment stood up to sing. I would not be lying here listening to Luke 8: 16–18, The lesson of the lamp.
‘What are you talking about?’ I croaked.
‘The gates to the entertainment industry will only open for those who are willing to sell their souls in exchange for wealth and social admiration. I’m a spiritual person. I will never allow myself to be an industry puppet flashing the one-eye symbol, or making horns and pyramids and the six-six-six symbols with my hands and fingers at every photo opportunity and in every video I make. Better for my lamp to shine its light honestly in that dive you found me in last night than have it covered by the sick and the depraved.’
I looked at her and I did not see a one-night stand, a woman I had no intention of ever seeing again. She was glowing with inner beauty. I saw only the truth of the quote—All god’s angels come to us disguised.
When I got back to the hotel Saul was waiting for me. His gift had morphed into a loan. I now owed him fifty thousand dollars plus interest. What did I expect? Saul Schitt hangs a black cloth over every lamp he sees.
I went back to England and for six months I laid my plans down, carefully, meticulously. I took advantage of the fact that though Saul trusted no one, other than maybe his mother, he had made the mistake of underestimating me. He thought I was a sapling clinging to his mighty branches. He paid for his error dearly. I avenged my father’s death in the gangster’s way.
An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
For four years I had sat quietly in the background and absorbed the workings of Saul’s little empire. No one knew it better than I. So I was confident I could take it. The sycophants never saw me coming. I behaved in the only way the power structure understood. Extreme violence. I exerted my will, established myself as top dog, and quickly took control.
But I desired a different organization.
One of the first things I did was sit down with BJ Pilkington and his father. Our families were in a generational feud, and they were not happy to be drawing up territories with me, but even they understood that I meant business. Ruthlessly I trimmed and cleaned up the organization. There would be no more dealing in class A drugs, no more human trafficking, no more prostitution, and no more loan sharking.
I reduced the rate but kept the protection racket going since abandoning it would have created a dangerous power vacuum. Besides, we would need it for the gambling dens and the clubs. I kept the contraband going too, because I’m a gypsy after all, and I have an aversion to paying taxes. Plus I’m really, really good at it.
I found myself a genius of an accountant and I started buying up properties in the most sought after areas of London through perfectly legal shell companies. And whenever possible I invested in Internet start-ups. Only two out of every twenty ventures were successful, but they were cheap to get into, they were great for washing dirty money, and when they were successful the rewards were astronomical. My best venture I sold for forty million.
Two years after that fateful trip I went back to Vegas to look for Indigo. I was the rich man she had predicted. I felt nothing for her but pure gratitude. I wanted to set her up so she could sing her songs without being a puppet of the industry. This time I didn’t walk. I was driven in a limo to that bar. The sign still proclaimed cold beers, but a different barman served me.
I described her.
‘Sorry, man. We’ve never had a singer here as far as I know. And I’ve been here near a year now,’ he said.
Ah, Indigo. I only want to give you what you deserve: FAME, FAME, FAME.
I tried looking for her through various detective agencies, but she had left nothing but a stage name. And that was too cold a trail to follow even for the best money. In the end I had to give up. She was not meant to be found.
I thought I’d never see an angel again in my life. Until the day I came down a set of steps in my brother’s club and saw Lily Hart. Here was another woman to change my life.
If she is not an angel then she is the devil in disguise.
-Just gonna stand there and watch me cry,
But that’s alright
Because I love the way you lie
I just love the way you lie—
THREE
Lily
For a few seconds I simply stare at him in shock. It’s a sight I never thought I’d see. The great Jake Eden wasted and lolling on the floor of a hotel corridor. He attempts to straighten himself by pushing his palms to the floor and fails. There is something boyish and endearing in his futile attempt. Resting on his elbows he looks up at me and wriggles an eyebrow.
‘There’s a whole closet of sex toys we haven’t tried yet,’ he says and grins seductively.
I shake my head in a disbelieving daze. ‘I’ve booked a cab. I have to go,’ I whisper.
He blinks up at me. ‘I thought you wanted to see me in handcuffs.’
‘I don’t,’ I reply tightly.
‘Could have fooled me.’ His voice is rolling and mellow.
I take two steps forward and crouch in front of him. His breath reeks of alcohol and his eyes are glazed. ‘Well, you’re wrong,’ I say softly.
‘No? Well, I’d like to cuff you to my bed.’ His hand comes up and strokes my face clumsily. ‘I don’t care if you’re a cop, Lily. I just want you to stay.’
The graceless, unrehearsed gesture throws me. Oh God! How much I want to stay. But I have to leave. He is intoxicated and does not know what he is saying. I still remember the cold look in his eyes before he closed the door in the early hours of the morning and went away leaving me naked and frighteningly alone.
Confused and conflicted, I stand up. To put some distance between us I take a step back and cross my hands over my waist.
His right hand comes out to curve around my ankle. He slides his hand up my leg. ‘Such soft skin. Like a baby,’ he croons.
I have to make my exit, but I can’t leave him in the corridor in this state. I have to get him into the room before I go.
‘Can you stand?’ I ask him.
‘I was born standing.’
He is amusing in this state, but my cab will arrive in about thirty minutes. I reach down, take his hand and try to heave him up, but he is a dead weight. I sink down next to him.
‘Come on, Jake, help me. We have to get you inside the room.’
He laughs carelessly. ‘Take your panties off.’
‘Stop it, Jake.’
‘Just take them off and stand over me with your legs spread so I can look up your skirt into that delicious velvet darkness.’
‘I’m not doing that.’
‘Then I’m not going into the room,’ he says, his jaw set into a stubborn line.
‘I can’t believe how drunk you are.’
He looks at me, his eyes not properly focused. ‘Drunk is when you are over the edge. I’m not there yet. I know exactly where I am and what I am
doing. Besides it is not pertinent to our discussion.’
‘Well, I’m not taking my panties off and standing over you so you can look up my skirt.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because anyone could come along!’
He chuckles. ‘That’s the best bit. The fear of discovery always makes you come faster.’ He slides his hands between my legs and rubs the silken crotch of my panties. His eyes glitter as his hand finds that despite my prudish objection I am already aroused by the thought. And it hasn’t escaped him that I haven’t swatted his hand away either. He strokes the damp material and smiles triumphantly.
‘Come on, be a devil. Just one little lick. I’m dying to get my tongue inside you.’ His eyes are half closed and heavy with drink and desire. I can feel myself getting more and more turned on, the material he is digging into becoming soaked.
‘One little lick,’ I say sternly.
‘Scout’s honor.’
‘And then you come with me into the suite?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he promises solemnly.
I stand and quickly take my panties off while he watches. Wordlessly, he holds his hand out and I put them into it. While he clumsily pockets them I furtively look right and left. The corridor is empty so I take a step forward and stand over him with my legs spread.
He looks up and smiles broadly. ‘I could die now and be happy.’ He raises his eyes up to mine. ‘Now squat on my face.’
I lean my palms on the wall in front of me and lower my hips until my sex is close enough to touch his mouth. Turns out it is not one little lick he wants after all. He captures my clit between his teeth so I am trapped into that horribly gauche position.
‘One little lick you said,’ I remind desperately.
His hands slide up my thighs and grip my bare buttocks firmly.
‘I lied,’ he says airily and starts sucking my clit.
‘I’ve got a taxi coming,’ I cry urgently, but the sensations that are coming from between my legs make me moan and grind myself against his teeth. I can always get another taxi. And then another voice, much stronger, says, What happens when he sobers up? What happens when Mills and the boys at the department find out? The thought is like a bucket of cold water in my face.