“The test.”
Sam eyed him warily. “What test?”
“I have a problem,” Kingsley said, and he sat back. Sam remained on her guard. “I need help. I’m doing something with
my life. Finally. Something important. It might even be the
most important thing I’ve ever done. And I can’t do it alone.
But I fuck my assistants. Then when they realize I’m not in
love with them, they get pissed and quit.”
“This is why I fuck straight girls. No commitment.” “Forgive me for upsetting you. Please. I only wanted to
see if you had any inclination, any interest in me. You don’t.” “Not a bit,” she said. “But don’t take it personally. I mean,
I see the appeal. You look great in drag, and you have amazing legs. And you’ve got the sexy hair and the Greek thing
going—”
“The French thing.”
“French. Right. Sorry,” she said, and he noted her biting
back a smile. “I mean, pardonnez-moi.”
“De rien,” he said.
“All that being said…you’re darn cute. I’m just not attracted to you. I hope that makes sense, and your ego isn’t
too bruised.”
“My ego enjoys the occasional bruise.” Among other parts
of him. “And you don’t have to apologize for not wanting to
have sex with me. I consider it a mark in your favor. Especially if you’re my assistant.”
“What exactly would I be doing for you as a personal as
sistant?”
“Let me show you something.”
Sam raised her eyebrow.
“It’s a building,” he said. “I promise.”
“Good. Just checking.”
When they arrived at their destination, the driver held open
the door for them. Sam exited the car first and then held out
her hand to Kingsley.
“Might I assist you, ma’am?” Sam asked.
“Who said chivalry was dead?” Kingsley took her hand,
and she pulled him—high heels, corset and all—out of the car. Side by side they stood on the sidewalk in the light of a
lamppost, in the shadow of a ghost.
“What are we doing here?” Sam demanded. “This is the
hotel Fuller’s church bought, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Why are we here?”
“Because I want it.”
“The city sold the place to them two weeks ago. It’s not on
the market anymore.”
“I’ve fucked more married women than I can count,”
Kingsley said. “If something’s worth owning, it’s worth stealing.”
“You are an interesting man, Kingsley Edge,” Sam said,
watching him as he scanned the exterior of the hotel. “I’m
not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
“You seduce straight girls in order to make them question
their sexuality. Jury is still out on you, too,” he said. “And for
the record, I have had sex with lesbians before.”
“Yeah, how did that happen?”
“One was on an ‘orientation vacation’ as she called it. The
other didn’t know she was until after we had sex.” “Ouch,” Sam said.
“There were no hard feelings. Especially after she told me
she was gay.”
They walked up and down the sidewalk in front of the
building. It was boarded up and chained. Yellow caution tape
warned passersby away. Signs and notices declared it condemned and closed.
Kingsley was undeterred.
“What did the newspaper say about this place?” Kingsley
asked.
“According to the Times, it was called The Renaissance.
Now it’s The Nothing since it’s been closed for ten years.” “Why does a church want a hotel?”
“Reverend Fuller wants to expand his empire of conservative family values into the heart of New York City blah blah
bullshit et cetera,” Sam said. “In the interview in the paper
he said something about how, unlike the righteous Lot who
f led from Sodom, WTL Ministries will infiltrate the city of
New York and save it from within.”
“The righteous Lot fucked his own daughters,” Kingsley
said. “I wonder if Reverend Fuller remembers that part.” “You know the Bible?” Sam asked.