Subject:  CHAPTER 62 |
Author:
Kitkat
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Date Posted: 21:58:22 06/07/05 Tue
CHAPTER 62
Herbies was more crowded than usual—a plus as far as Marge was concerned. Never one to court attention, she was even more protective when her private life was at issue. She peered through the smoky room, her eyes searching for a clean table. She had arrived early for just that reason. Standing around alone in a bar was problematic for someone of her particular inclinations. Even when she dressed down, choosing basic black over something more ostentatious, the men still hovered. The personnel at work seemed to find her plain enough, but the bar scene played by its own set of rules. She thumbed her nose at the men vying for her attention. They didn’t even understand her game, much less know how to play.
She spotted an empty table at the back of the room, all but hidden by a large potted shrub. Perfect. She ordered a scotch and water from the perky waitress and settled back to wait for her friend. "Hitchin’ a Ride" by Green Day was blaring over the speakers and she sipped her drink as she tapped her feet to the beat. She was raising her arm to order a second when she spotted Millicent. She waved until she caught the eye of the other woman and waved her over.
“Hey, Marge,” Millicent said, as she leaned down and kissed the other woman’s cheek. “I’m not late, am I? Got any smoke on ya? I could kill for a hit right now.”
“You’ll feel better after a scotch.”
Millicent pushed her lips into a pout. “You know I don’t like scotch. Why do you make me drink that stuff?”
“You know why. You make an absolute fool of yourself when you drink wine.”
“I could drink beer.”
“Don’t be crass.”
Millicent sipped from the glass Marge set in front of her. “What do you think they’re doing right now? I wonder what kind of lover he is. Gossip says he’s hot.”
“Why so interested?”
“I was just thinking. That’s all.” Millicent dipped her finger into her drink and sucked the scotch from the red-painted digit provocatively.
Marge watched her without emotion. The vamp act was wearing thin. “Is everything in place?”
The woman’s head popped up like a startled bird’s. “Of course. I’m very good at what I do.”
“You’d better be.”
“Is that a threat?” The seductress had vanished. In its place was a ruthless, cool-headed, businesswoman.
“No, not at all. But if you make a mistake, you go down alone.” She paused dramatically and took a sip of her drink. “And they won’t treat you in prison as nice as I do, precious.”
“I won’t make a mistake. By the time the honeymoon is over—the honeymoon will really be over.”
“And the back trail?”
“Just like you wanted. It leads directly to his little bride.”
Marge gave her a reassuring smile. “Well done, then. Let’s go home.”
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