Nicholas Lancer took a whiff of the wine before indulging. Good, I'm not in the mood for anything real fruity. Ramos had filled the penthouse poolside with dozens of foreign models and American businessmen. Lancer looked around for his host. Ramos was near the pool, eating a shrimp. Lucy, his mistress, touched his arm with only her fingertips. Ramos hated clingy women, and Lucy had a natural understanding of how much attention to give him. Lancer watched him whisper a joke in her ear. Instead of a ditzy giggle, she half-covered her mouth as she smiled.
Lancer approached his client. Or was he the client? Lancer couldn't tell anymore. Lucy noticed, and greeted him. "Good evening Mr. Lancer," she said in a low Hungerian accent.
"Evening." He turned to Ramos. "I trust you enjoyed your cruise?"
Lancer had worked with Ramos long enough to develop a small-talk code whenever a particular crowd was around. Lucy was safe enough company, but Lancer hadn't checked the guest list. "Everything went smooth as silk. You have a good choice in shops."
This meant that Ramos had reached Lancer's contacts in Brazil and the Virgin Islands. Lancer was a well-respected attorney in Miami, but his main business came from organizing contacts with Ramos. Working at a law firm meant driving a Jag. Working with Ramos meant driving a Lotus.
"Where's Vivian?"
"Still getting ready, I imagine. She'll be down when she's ready."
Lancer, excited for any news of the Texan accountant, walked back inside to get another drink. Ramos looked at Lucy. "She didn't mention his name at all during the cruise. How many times did he call?"
"During normal business hours or after?" Lucy rolled her eyes. "He's almost as exciting as paint drying. Are all American women this stupid with men?" Ramos chuckled. "I am serious, Ramos darling. Vivian isn't as pretty as me, but nines are almost as good as tens. And she's smart."
Ramos pointed to Vivian opening the French doors and stepping outside. The halter worked its magic perfectly -- the only skin it showed was the clevage every man was eyeing. She walked in her sharp heels with ease. Lancer was next to her in an instant. He was trying to keep the other men off of her. That was when Lucy realized Vivian was at least four inches taller than him without the shoes. He motioned he had something for her, and pulled a pair of earings from his suit. She allowed him to put the earings on her -- just to get him close enough to touch her hair and face, but not close enough to kiss her. She smiled, and then turned to the waiter to ask for a drink. Lancer looked pissed to see her talking to another man.
Lucy let out a long whistle. "I take it back. Nine and a half." She accepted another drink from Ramos. "So American women will sleep with stupid men to get attention?"
"As opposed to European women who sleep with rich men to get presents." Lucy narrowed her eyes. "You and Vivian are closer than you think. You're both dedicated to your work -- and both of you work for me, though in different ways. And you both are lackadaisical towards everything else. Vivian doesn't care who she's with, so long as she's being worshipped. And you'll skip a photo shoot to race yachts."
"Did you hear I won while you were gone? I used your boat!"
"Yes, and I'm very proud you paid the mechanics to damage last year's winning boat. I might have a job for you one day." He kissed her on the check. "Now, be a dear and try to get some people in the pool. I need to talk to Vivian."
