Vivian stepped into her suite at the penthouse. She still had over two hours before sundown. Wearing only a thin sundress over her bathing suit, she punched in a few numbers to the receptionist. "This is Miss Jaspers...when Lucy's girl is done with her makeup and hair, can you send her to my room? Thanks. Yes, the Caribbean was wonderful. I left you a few things on your desk. Thanks for taking my calls while I was out."
Vivian undressed and walked into the shower. After a week on the boat's small bathroom, it was nice to feel real tile under her feet. The shower had about eighteen nozzles, and it felt good to have all the sand washed away.
It had been only two months since the trip to Japan, and only a little longer since her employer let her in on his illegal schemes. Ramos had been royally pissed at Vivian for tampering with his casino earnings -- until he realized her tampering resulted in an eight percent gain. Vivian had a knack for numbers, and she was making Ramos more money than when she was just an accountant.
Ramos saw two things in Vivian that he rarely saw in a single employee -- brains and loyalty. Vivian was smart -- she studied at Oxford and had friends at Harvard and Yale. And she showed no trace of wanting to leave this lifestyle anytime soon. In Japan, Ramos deliberately showed her the highlights of his choice in company. She was showered with gifts -- silk kimonos, pretty dresses, fine jewelry -- and enough praise to expand her already inflated ego.
And yet, the death of George bothered her. He had been her private driver for the last few months. It wasn't just the fact that he crack jokes and didn't poke fun of her accent. George had a way of sensing when Vivian was in over her head. Once he even pulled her out of a hotel lobby before a fight erupted.
"What were they fighting over?"
"If you should be allowed in the room or not. Ramos wants you there, of course, but the Yakuza boys aren't too fond of women."
Despite her many talents, Vivian lacked an understanding of the criminal world she was now in. George had been a source of common sense. And now his body was probably in a burning car somewhere.
I suppose someone else will have to teach me the ropes of this business. Vivian wondered who the new driver would be. Ramos had dozens in his employement, but they were scattered in various countries.
Vivian stepped out of the shower and put a robe on. She could hear the stylist in the other room, clearly excited about something. "Good evening, Rosemary. What's going on?"
Rosemary pointed to the new dress on the bed. "This is for you, senorita."
It was an evening gown for Saks Fifth Avenue. A silk halter with a deep V-neck. Vivian held it up to the mirror. Even as a banker's daughter, she never got tired of the feel of silk. "I suppose Ramos wants me to look my best tonight."
"The dress isn't from Ramos, it's from your lawyer friend."
"Nicholas?" Vivian smiled. "Did he say how he wanted my hair done?"
Rosemary held up some pins and grinned. "Updo, with a little sparkle and lots of curls."
"Well, we better give him what he wants, shouldn't we?" She looked down as Rosemary's supplies. "How many of those diamond pins can we put in my hair before it's too heavy to carry?"
