The Second Girl(62)



I enter his number and tap it to call, then hand her the cell. I can barely hear it ring, and after the third ring a faint, indistinct voice at the other end.

“Is this Playboy?” Tamie asks in a voice that would have me fooled if I closed my eyes.

I lean closer to Tamie to hear as best I can.

“Hi, Playboy. I’m a friend of Justine’s.”

I can’t hear what he says; then he asks, “Who she?”

“Justine, from Lake Braddock High School. In Burke. She said you hooked up a couple of times. She gave me your number.”

“Yeah…” The rest is inaudible, so I move back to a comfortable reclining position and light a cigarette.

“She can’t call you. She got—I mean, she’s grounded and her mom took her cell phone away for skipping school…I don’t know how long she’s grounded for…No…Okay, I’ll tell her to call you when she’s not grounded…Yes, she really, really wanted me to call you for a big favor…Well, we were hoping to get what she got from you before—you know, some jellybeans. I can even drive to DC to save you a trip. I just got my license.”

I give her a thumbs-up for the “license” part.

“I’m almost seventeen…No, I’m white, I mean Caucasian.”

She turns to me and shrugs, like she doesn’t understand why he said or asked what he just did. Maybe it’s something he can sense, ’cause I wouldn’t know the difference if I wasn’t looking at her.

“Blond hair. I’m short, but not too short. Justine said you’re cute…Seriously…Yes…Well, I’m in the eleventh grade…Uh-huh…I have to go to my next class soon, but I can leave here at three…What’s ‘five-oh’?” She shoots me a look and smiles because she knows what it really means. “Police?” she asks, and then chuckles, but it’s a little more refined than her usual deep-throated cackle. “I’m only sixteen. How can I be the police…? No, seriously. You’ll know when you see me…No, that’s so silly…Oh, I drive a gold Volvo. My mom bought a new car, so I got this one…Uh-huh…We’d really like to get a fifty…No, just a fifty. That’s all we can afford…Oh, I don’t know, Playboy.” She chuckles again. “For another fifty? Well, yeah, I guess we could work out some sort of trade. Like what are you talking about…? Uh-huh, I can wait till we get together, but I would like to get an extra fifty…Okay, we can talk more then…I don’t know where that is. I know Georgetown and was wondering if we could meet there…You know where Wisconsin ends, just under the bridge by the water…? Yes…I go shopping there sometimes with friends, so I know that part of DC…It has to be around four thirty because I have to get home by dinner or I’ll get grounded too…Yes, I promise, Playboy…Okay…Okay…I’ll see you at four thirty…Oh, wait. What kind of car do you drive, so I can look out for you…? Oh, I like Lexuses, and black is my favorite color…Okay, I’ll be standing on the corner right under the bridge…Okay, bye-bye.”

She disconnects and hands the cell back to me. I check it to make sure it is disconnected and then put it in the center console compartment.

“He’ll be driving a black Lexus?” I ask.

“Yeah, he said it’s new. One of the sporty ones.”

“Black’s your favorite color, huh?”

“Had to make sure he knows that.” She grins.

“Well, it sounded like it went well, except for that ‘five-oh’ part. Talk to me.”

She taps out another cigarette and I light it for her.

After a deep draw on the cig, she says, “He asked that typical shit, ‘How do I know you ain’t five-oh?’ but I’m sure he doesn’t think I am. Like you said, his dick does the thinking for him.”

“Does it sound like he was tight with Justine?”

“Oh yeah, he been getting himself some of that.”

“He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to tell me that directly. I know a man, and the way he talked about her, I know he getting it.”

“What else?”

“He acted all skeptical at first, like he didn’t know who I was talking about, but then he opened up.”

“What was all that talk about another fifty?”

“He wants to tap a bit of that sweet young Tamie ass is what.”

“Straight out said that or insinuated it?”

“Insinuated, I guess. It’s not like he said he wanted me to give him head, but that’s sure as hell what he meant. I can tell you that for certain.”

“So he never asked for sexual favors directly, but you know that’s what he wanted?”

“Hell yeah, sweetie. That’s what he meant when he said I could trade a little somethin’ for the extra fifty.”

“You know how to read these mopes. Does it sound like he’ll show?”

“Fuck yes he’ll show. Like you said, he got a dick that does the thinkin’ for him, but the head be too swollen to think straight.”





Fifty-six



These things rarely go the way they’re supposed to. I’m hoping for the best, though. I get to Georgetown just before three, an hour and a half before Playboy’s supposed to show.

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