The Gentlemen's Hour

120

Bill Blasingame gets on the horn to Nicole.

Calls her at home.

N.A.

Calls her on her cell.

N.A.—the bitch has it turned off.

He’s freaking. First Phil Schering gets shot, then Bill gets the phone call. He remembers what was said, pretty much word for word:

“This can’t go any farther. You can’t let this go any farther. Do you understand?”

Bill understands. He knows the people he’s dealing with.

But I can contain it, he thought after the phone call. With Schering dead, the only other person who could really blow this open is Nicole. And she knows what side her bread is buttered on.

Except what if the stupid twat doesn’t? What if she panics? Or gets greedy?

And now she won’t answer her phone. She’s looking at caller ID and blowing me off. Where the fuck is she? he wonders. Okay, where is she usually at this time of the day? Out getting shit-faced with her buddies.

He leaves the building, crosses the street, and goes into the bar.

Sure enough, the nightly bitch session of the Aggrieved Secretaries’ Club is in full swing. They’re not all that happy to see him when he approaches the table. Fuck them, he thinks, and asks, “Have you seen Nicole?”

“She’s off the clock,” one of them answers.

Mouthy bitch.

“I know,” Bill says. “But have you seen her?”

The mouthy one giggles. “Have you looked between the sheets? There was this really cute guy giving her the eye and he followed her out of here, and I think girlfriend was open to a hookup.”

Bill goes back to his office building, looks in the parking lot, and doesn’t see Nicole’s car. Calls her cell again, then her home, but she doesn’t answer. Great, he thinks, I’m dying here, and the bitch is out getting laid.