Upstairs in his mother’s brownstone, in the comfortable luxury of the upper West Side, Fortunato closed his eyes. Miranda straightened his black tie with skillful fingers. She was in her late forties now, heavier than she should have been if she was still a geisha, wearing tailored Chanel instead of low-cut ready-to-wear. She’d become his mother’s business manager ten years ago and hadn’t turned a trick since.
“You look bad,” she said. “Is Veronica not working out?”
“No,” Fortunato said. ” I don’t think she’s going to make it.”
“I never understood her. All she wants is to be married and have kids and put them in day-care, to have a husband she never sees, to have servants and cars and money. I keep asking myself what I did wrong.”
“It’s not you. It’s the whole country. Greed is very chic these days.”
She touched his lips and the skin tingled. “You’re very tired.”
“Exhausted.”
” I used to know the cure for that.” She was standing very close. He could smell her perfume and the sweetness of her skin. She read the willingness in his face and said, “Lie down.”
He stretched out across the bed. She took off her jacket and skirt. Fortunato reached for his tie and she said, “Don’t move. “
She took the rest of her clothes off. She was still graceful enough to get out of her panty hose without breaking the mood. Her bra had left lines around her chest and over her shoulders and there was dark stubble under her arms.
She got onto the bed and straddled Fortunato and began to touch herself. She started with her forehead and let her fingers trickle down her cheeks and back up to where her ears met her jawline. Goose bumps came up on her neck. She swayed forward until her full, sagging breasts were inches from his face. He leaned up to kiss them and she pulled away. “No,” she said. “I told you to hold still.”
She brushed her broad, dark nipples with her fingertips until they tightened and thrust out at him. Then she brushed lightly over her belly and buried her left hand in her pubic hair. With her right she touched Fortunato’s lips again. He licked her fingers and arched his back.
She moved up the bed on her knees and lowered herself onto his mouth. “Gently,” she said. “It’s been a long time.” As he licked and probed with his tongue she gradually began to melt and open to him. She took hold of the brass railing of the bed and slowly moved against him, her breath coming faster, her heavy thighs pressing against the sides of his head.
Then her body stiffened and she let out a tiny, hoarse scream and he drank the power from her, hungrily, gratefully. He felt it tingling through his body and hardly noticed as she bent to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “You taste like me,” she said. “Take care, Fortunato.”
She picked up her clothes and was gone.
Fortunato came downstairs to find a circle of beautiful women around the couch in the sitting room. In the middle sat a tall, striking girl in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Ichiko,” Fortunato said, using his mother’s geisha name. “What’s the deal?”
“Ellroy found her in Jokertown,” Ichiko said. Like Miranda, she’d put on weight in the last ten years. She was tall anyway, and now she looked positively Anglo-Saxon. She wore a black cotton sweater and skirt with a red-and-black silk blouse. The top three buttons were undone. She-moved across the room to Fortunato without sound or visible effort. “She was coming out of the Church of Jesus Christ Joker and looked like she was about to get in trouble with one of Gambione’s scouts. Ellroy offered her a ride.” She shrugged. “Here she is.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yes,” Ichiko said. “She is.”
“Okay,” Fortunato said to the others. “Break it up. Don’t you ladies have places you’re supposed to be?” They moved off, one at a time, Caroline stopping to slip one arm around his waist as she passed. Then he was alone with her. “I’m Fortunato,” he said.
“Cordelia.” She didn’t stand up, but held her hand out to him. Fortunato took it for a second and then sat down next to her. “I appreciate the rescue,” she said. Her voice was deep, a little breathless, very Southern. Sexy.
“Do you know where you are’?”
“Ellroy told me a little. He said there were no obligations, but I could hang around for an interview if I wanted.”
“And?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
She was flirtatious, but she seemed terribly young. “I’ll have to ask you some personal kind of things.”
“Like am I a virgin, you mean?”
“For instance.”
“No. I had a regular boyfriend back in Atelier Parish. And-well, you know what they say about virgins from Louisiana. They’re just the girls without any close male kin.” She laughed but Fortunato didn’t.
“We need to talk some more,” he said. “Do you have dinner plans?”
“‘Dinner plans?’ Not hardly! But from the way you’re dressed I can’t see myself going anywhere with you.” Fortunato looked at his watch. “We can find you something here to wear. How soon could you be ready?”