We exchanged smiles, and her teeth were even and white. In a voice loud enough to cut through the stripper music, I said, “What’s your name?”
She leaned toward me until her lips were almost pressing against my right ear, and she said, “Blaze.”
I recoiled and looked at her with my head cocked to one side. “What kinda f**king name is Blaze? Did your mother know you were gonna be a stripper when you were born?”
She stuck her tongue out at me, so I stuck my tongue back at her. “My real name is Jennifer,” she said. “Blaze is my stage name.”
“Well,” I said, “it’s very nice to make your acquaintance, Blaze.”
“Awwww,” she said, rubbing her cheek against mine. “You’re such a little cutie!”
Little? Why…you…little hooker in stripper’s clothing! I oughta smash you one! I took a deep breath and said, “What do you mean?”
That seemed to confuse her. “I mean you’re…a cutie, and you have beautiful eyes, and you’re young!” She offered me her stripper’s smile.
She had a very sweet voice, Blaze. Would Gwynne approve of her, though? In truth, it was still too early to say if this one would make a suitable mother for the children.
“Do you like Quaaludes?” I asked.
She shrugged her bare shoulders. “I never tried one. What do they make you feel like?”
Hmmm…a novice, I thought. No patience to break her in. “How about coke? Have you tried that?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, I love coke! Do you have any?”
I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, mountains of it!”
“Well, then, follow me,” she said, grabbing my hand. “And don’t call me Blaze anymore, okay? My name is Jennie.”
I smiled at my future wife. “Okay, Jennie. Do you like kids, by the way?” I crossed my fingers.
She smiled from ear to ear. “Yeah, I love kids. I wanna have a whole bunch one day. Why?”
“No particular reason,” I said to my future wife. “I was just wondering.”
Ahhh, Jennie! My very antidote to the backstabbing Duchess! Who even needed to go back to Old Brookville now? I could just move Chandler and Carter down to Florida. Gwynne and Janet would come too. The Duchess would have visitation rights, once a year, under court supervision. That would be fair.
Jennie and I passed away the next four hours in the manager’s office, snorting coc**ne, as she gave me private lap dances and world-class bl*w j*bs, in spite of the fact that I hadn’t been able to actually get it up yet. I was now convinced, however, that she would make a suitable mother for my children, so I said to the top of Jennie’s head, “Hold on, Jennie. Stop sucking for a second.”
She craned up her neck and offered me her stripper’s smile. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
I shook my head. “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything’s right. I want to introduce you to my mother. Hold on a second.” I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my parents’ house in Bayside, which had had the same phone number for thirty-five years.
A moment later came my mother’s concerned voice, to which I replied, “No, no, don’t listen to her. Everything is fine…. A restraining order? So f**king what? I have two houses; she can keep one and I can keep the other…. The children? They’ll live with me, of course. I mean, who could do a better job raising them than me? Anyway, that’s not why I called, Mom; I called to let you know that I’m asking Nadine for a divorce…. Why? Because she’s a backstabbing bitch, that’s why! Besides, I already met someone else, and she’s really nice.” I looked over at Jennie, who was fairly beaming, and I winked at her. Then I said into the phone, “Listen, Mom, I want you to speak to my future wife. She’s really sweet and beautiful and…Where am I right now? I’m in a strip club down in Miami…. Why?…No, she’s not a stripper, or at least not anymore. She’s putting all that behind her now. I’m gonna spoil her rotten.” I winked at Jennie again. “Her name is Jennie, but you can call her Blaze if you want. She won’t take offense at that; she’s a very easygoing girl. Hold on—here she is.”
I passed the cell phone to Jennie. “My mom’s name is Leah, and she’s very nice. Everyone loves her.”
Jennie shrugged and grabbed the phone. “Hello, Leah? This is Jennie. How are you?…Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking…. Yes, he’s okay…. Uh-huh, yes, okay, hold on a second.” Jennie puther hand over the mouthpiece and said, “She said she wants to speak to you again.”
Unbelievable! I thought. That was very rude of my mother to blow off my future wife like that! I grabbed the phone and hung up on her. Then I smiled from ear to ear, lay back down on the couch, and pointed to my loins.
Jennie nodded eagerly, leaned over me, and started sucking…and grabbing…and yanking…and pulling…and then sucking some more…. Still, for the life of me I couldn’t seem to get the blood flowing. But my young Jennie was a trooper, a determined little teenager she was, not about to quit without giving it a full college try. Fifteen minutes later she finally found that special little spot, and next thing I knew I was hard as a rock—f**king her mercilessly on a cheap white cloth couch and telling her that I loved her. She told me that she loved me too, at which point we both giggled. It was a happy moment for us as we marveled at how two lost souls could fall so deeply in love so quickly—even under these circumstances.
It was amazing. Yes, in that very instant—just before I came—Jennie was everything to me. Then an instant later I wished she would vaporize into thin air. A terrible sinking feeling washed over me like a hundred-foot tidal wave. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. I visibly sagged. I was thinking of the Duchess: I missed her.
I needed to speak to her desperately. I needed for her to tell me that she still loved me and that she was still mine. I smiled sadly at Jennie and told her that I needed to speak to Dave for a second and that I’d be right back. I went out into the club, found Dave, and told him that if I didn’t leave this place right this second I might kill myself, which would put him in deep shit, since it was his responsibility to keep me alive until things settled down a bit. So we left, without saying good-bye to Jennie.
Dave and I were sitting in the back of the limo, on our way to his house in Broken Sound, a gated community in Boca Raton. The Uniblinker had fallen in love with a stripper and stayed behind—and I was now considering slitting my wrists. I felt myself crashing; the coc**ne was wearing off and I was falling from an emotional cliff. I needed to speak to the Duchess. Only she could help me.
It was two in the morning. I grabbed Dave’s cell phone and dialed my home number. A woman’s voice answered, but it wasn’t the Duchess’s.
“Who’s this?” I snapped.
“It’s Donna.”
Oh, shit! Donna Schlesinger was just the sort of catty bitch who’d eat this shit up. She was a childhood friend of Nadine’s, and she’d been jealous of her since she was old enough to understand the concept. I took a deep breath and said, “Let me speak to my wife, Donna.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”
That enraged me. “Just put her on the f**king phone, Donna.”
“I told you,” snapped Donna, “she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Donna,” I said calmly, “I’m not f**king around here. I’m warning you right now that if you don’t put her on the phone I’m gonna fly back to New York and stick a f**king knife through your heart. And then, when I’m done with you, I’m going after your husband, just on general principles.” Then I screamed, “Put her on the phone right f**king now!”
“Hold on,” said a very nervous Donna.
I rolled my neck, trying to calm myself down. Then I looked at Dave and said, “You know I didn’t really mean that. I was just trying to make a point.”
He nodded and said, “I hate Donna as much as you do, but I think you ought to let Nadine be for a couple of days. Just back off a bit. I spoke to Laurie, and she said Nadine is pretty shaken up.”
“What else did Laurie say?”
“She said that Nadine won’t take you back unless you go to drug rehab.”
Just then over the cell phone: “Hi, Jordan, it’s Ophelia. Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath. Ophelia was a good girl, but she couldn’t be trusted. She was the Duchess’s oldest friend, and she would want the best for us…but, still…the Duchess had crawled inside her mind…manipulated her…turned her against me. Ophelia could be an enemy. Still, unlike Donna, she wasn’t evil, so I found her voice somewhat calming. “I’m okay, Ophelia. Will you please put Nadine on the phone?”
I heard her sigh. “She won’t come to the phone, Jordan. She won’t speak to you unless you go to rehab.”
“I don’t need rehab,” I said sincerely. “I just need to slow down a bit. Tell her I will.”
“I’ll tell her,” said Ophelia, “but I don’t think it’ll help. Listen, I’m sorry, but I gotta go.” And just like that she hung up the phone on me.
My spirits plunged even lower. I took a deep breath and dropped my head in defeat. “Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.
Dave put his arm on my shoulder. “Are you all right, buddy?”
“Yeah,” I lied, “I’m fine. I don’t wanna talk right now. I just need to think.”
Dave nodded, and we spent the remainder of the ride in silence.
Fifteen minutes later I was sitting in Dave’s living room, feeling hopeless and desperate. The insanity seemed even worse now; my spirits had plunged to impossible depths. Dave was sitting next to me on the couch, saying nothing. He was just watching and waiting. In front of me was a pile of coc**ne. My pills were on the kitchen counter. I had tried calling the house a dozen times, but Rocco had started to answer the phone. Apparently he’d turned against me too. I would fire him as soon as this was resolved.
I said to Dave, “Call Laurie on her cell phone. It’s the only way I can get through.”
Dave nodded wearily and started punching in Laurie’s number on the cordless phone. Thirty seconds later I had her on the phone, and she was crying. “Listen,” she said, snuffling back tears, “you know how much Dave and I love you, Jordan, but, please, I’m begging you, you gotta go to rehab. You gotta get help. You’re about to die. Don’t you see it? You’re a brilliant man and you’re destroying yourself. If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for Channy and Carter. Please!”
I took a deep breath and rose from the couch and started walking toward the kitchen. Dave followed a few steps behind. “Does Nadine still love me?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Laurie, “she still loves you, but she won’t be with you anymore unless you go to rehab.”