Lousiana Hotshot

glamorous, though not half so well dressed— she wore baggy bell-bottoms and a T-shirt meant for a smaller girl. Talba took a second look at her. She wasn’t half as old as Eileen, either. In fact, she looked a lot like Cassandra— same light skin, snaky little body, attitude to burn. She was chewing on a hunk of bubble gum as big as an egg.
    Somewhere not far away, a card game was in progress. The riffle of cardboard and dollars, the clink of change, the rat-a-tat fuck-fuck-fucks of young, black world-by-the-tails was so loud you couldn’t have heard the phone ring. Testosterone hung in the air like jasmine in spring.
    Bad time,
Talba thought, and considered leaving. These dudes might be drinking, though, come to think of it, there was more in the air than hormones. Smoking made people mellow— at least she devoutly hoped it had in this case.
    The receptionist mouthed something, which might have been “May I help you?”, and Talba mouthed back that she was there to see Mr. Toledano, and then the receptionist put her hand behind her ear, engaging in what Talba could have told her was a losing game. She motioned for something to write on, and when the girl ducked to find it, saw Toledano himself, walking down the little hall behind the front counter, checking his zipper. Today, he was dressed in a deep red custom-made suit and walking like a pimp. Whether the walk itself was a pimp or whether the man thought he was fine, Talba couldn’t have guessed.
    He spoke before she could. “Well, hello, you fine thing. Be right with ya. Lemme just exterminate some vermin.” The phrase chilled her.
    He went into the room with the card players. “Listen up, y’all. We got royalty out here. Ya’ll get ya sorry asses out my office and do it now. Come on, yeah! Go ‘head and do it.” Like he owned the world.
    And in a moment, the men came out, baggy-jeaned and sullen, sneaking glances at the woman he had called royalty. When they had gone, he spoke to his young helper, “Mika, we got a Baroness here. Don’t she look
fine.”
    Talba almost regretted the getup, but not really. She understood that it was what had moved him to action. This was a man who was into appearances, a man so unsure of himself the mere fact that she was in his office was an event.
    “I didn’t mean to break up your game,” she said.
    “Wasn’t no game of mine— motherfuckers come in every day, try takin’ over my office. Can’t get no business done, that racket goin’ on.”
    “I won’t take much of your time. I wonder if we could talk for a moment?” She’d decided, in view of his evident insecurity, to play it haughty. She remembered how he’d been the other night— overshadowed, seemingly overwhelmed by his brother; excited as a kid to report that he’d actually heard of her.
    “We can sure do that. You come right on in.” He led her into an office so littered with papers, CDs, cigarette butts, every kind of thing you could think of that she found it hard to believe he did any business here at all.
He probably doesn’t
, she thought.
His brother probably just gave him this to keep him out of trouble.
    There was a round table in the room, piled high, with several chairs around it, and a desk with a chair for the owner and two facing it, for supplicants. He sat her in one of the supplicants’ chairs and assumed the owner’s position. Exactly what she’d expected.
    The desk had a nice lip on it, she noticed. Perfect for her purposes. How the hell to get him out of here so she could go to work? She could ask for coffee, but he’d probably just send the receptionist.
    “What I owe the honor to? Little bit unusual,” he said, “Baroness comes to call.”
    “I’ve got a proposition for you, Mr. T.” He opened his mouth, but she held up a forestalling hand. She wasn’t about to let him get going with that one. “Are you familiar with NOAAP?”
    “NOAAP?” She could see he hadn’t a clue; therefore, he was going to ridicule it. “What the fuck’s a NOAAP?”
    She chose that moment to start coughing. She screwed up her face and held her throat. “Allergic,” she managed to gasp. “Dust.” Hack, hack.
    He shouted, “Mika. Get your ass in here. We need some water. Now!”
    Talba was practically throwing a fit, bugging her eyes out, letting the tears roll down, twisting her whole body into scary spasms. “Mika!” He was out of there— -just couldn’t stand to look. She dipped a hand into her bosom and pulled out