We squeezed through the crowd, looking for a place to park. Something with a driving and frantic beat started up and blared out around us. As if it was a signal, Colette slammed back her drink, dropped it on a table, grabbed my hand and dragged me into the crowd. It seemed one place was as good as another and she started moving to the beat. She yelled something, threw her hands in the air, and motioned for me to join her.
I was nearly paralyzed. I didn’t want to look like a fool. I bobbed up and down a little.
Dance
,
Finn!
I don’t know what to do!
Let me show you!
I knew it was a bad idea, but I caved under the pressure and mentally stepped back. My arms threw themselves in the air and my body started making moves that would have left me gawking if I’d had any control of my face.
Colette gave me a startled look and I immediately tried to take back control. She obviously thought I looked ridiculous. Spring fought me off, and I undulated over to Colette as if I was Patrick Swayze. Oh god, I knew I would never be able to look her in the face again. I really wished I could close my eyes, so I didn’t have to see this.
Relax
,
Finn. I know what I’m doing. Did I ever fail to turn you on?
Well, no, but I’m really easy. Just show me a breast and I’m doomed.
Women are not fundamentally different. Now shut up and dance.
Then I noticed something. To my utter amazement, Colette was dancing
with
me and she was enjoying it. She would take moves I made, transform them and repeat them back to me. Our bodies rubbed together and separated and that was all it took. We danced like maniacs to the next several songs, or I should say Spring danced with her like a maniac, and I became a willing and intimate bystander. I was so transformed by the rush of movement and sexuality that I didn’t care what I looked like or who was watching.
When a slow song started, I figured we’d go sit down, but my arms went around Colette and she melted into me. She was a few inches shorter than me and we seemed to fit perfectly together. She was intensely warm, real, and totally absorbed my attention. That’s when Spring abdicated.
You’re on your own
,
boy.
I was suddenly back in control of my body and all my senses sharpened. I involuntarily tensed up, causing Colette to look up at me. My arms tightened around her of their own accord.
Kiss her!
Terrified, I leaned down to kiss her and had barely started when she pressed close, pulled down my head and kissed me. Her mouth had the sharp taste of vodka, and her kiss was fire and passion. It overwhelmed me with its heat. Her body was alive, and her smell intoxicating. Her lips were soft and demanding. If we hadn’t had on clothes we probably would have ended up doing it right there on the floor. It was glorious. Not something that I’d ever imagined would happen to me. Then the music ended.
Colette pulled away from me, wide eyed and startled. I must have crossed some line. I stood there uncertain what to do. It seemed like forever, but could only have been a second before she gave me a sly smile and took my hand. She turned and led me through the crowd and out the back door to the parking lot. Dumbfounded, I had no choice but to follow her like a pull toy.
The outdoor air hit me with a wall of cool instantly chilling the damp clothing clinging to me. I involuntarily shivered as Colette pulled me along the backside of the brick building and stopped behind a handy brick column. She turned on me, grabbed me, and suddenly I was holding her as her legs wrapped around me and her mouth covered mine. I counterbalanced and automatically grabbed her by her derriere. It was something I had fantasized about for months. It was every bit as firm as it looked. Oh my god. I
was
Patrick Swayze. We came up for air and she dropped. Her heavy, breathy, French played havoc with my shredded self-control. “Take me home, Finn.”
The evening acrobatics left me stunned and bemused, but she didn’t have to ask me twice. We headed for the car and hopped in. Even though I kept sneaking glances at Colette, it wasn’t until we were halfway through the city that Colette’s changed posture and demeanor pierced through my happy, bemused fog. She sat tensely in the seat, checking the road behind us.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I think I’m in danger, Finn.”
I slowed down and prepared to pull over, so we could talk.
“No! Drive, do not go slowly.”
“What? Why?”
“When we walked to the car, I saw a man in the parking lot watching us. I think he is the one who killed Pietro.”
Still a bit high from the intensity of Colette’s reaction to me, I wanted to laugh. Somebody had suddenly switched the script of my life with a cheesy spy thriller. “No way! Why would he follow us to a dance club? How does he even know you?”
“Finn, there are things we need to discuss, but later. Right now, please trust me that we are in danger if we do not get away from this man.”
Spring’s reaction was different than mine. I could almost see her clapping her hands in joy the same way Colette had.
Cool! It
is
like we’re in a spy movie, Finn! I’ve changed my mind. Colette is awesome! Do you think she’s a diamond thief or a spy?
What? Don’t be silly.
You could be like Steve McQueen! I’ll bet we can lose this loser tailing us. Then we can park somewhere dark and let her have her way with us.
Not in my Dad’s car! And Steve McQueen? Really? We need to upgrade our cable to get you some newer movies.
Steve McQueen’s awesome. He was so studly that half the people in America must carry his DNA... I’ll bet she’s with Interpol.
Spring, we are not in a spy flick, and we are not doing high-speed chase! That’s just movie stuff.
Oh.
Disappointment followed her into silence.
Well, before tonight, you thought the whole chick wrapping her legs around you was just goofy movie stuff, too. Hey! Maybe we are in a movie! Or, maybe we’re living in a show like Jim Carrey in
The Truman Show
!
I wrenched my brain away from Spring’s ramblings and forced it to deal with the reality of being tailed while driving my Dad’s car. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”
“We must escape from him.”
“How? This car isn’t exactly built for speed.”
“Do as I will tell you. First, exit the highway.”
I did as she asked and soon found myself gliding down an off-ramp. “Turn left at the light.”
I pulled up in the left lane and stopped at the light beside another car sitting in the other left turn lane to my right. I took the time to look nervously in my rear-view mirror at the lights of a larger car, which pulled up behind us.
“Now, you must do exactly as I say. Do not hesitate.”
I nodded.
“Good, when I say so, you must very quickly turn to the right.”
“To the right?”
She nodded. I looked at the lady driving the car next to us.
“But, I’ll hit the car next to us.”
“No you will not. Go now!
Allez
!”
The light was still red, but my foot automatically followed her command. I floored the gas and leaped into the intersection, turning right. My dad’s car didn’t have a lot of punch, but it gave me all it had, and I zoomed down the street. Just as I was about to give a whoop of excitement, my career as a getaway driver ended in a flash of red and blue lights from the car behind us.
“Aw, crap!”
Colette turned to look behind us and said, “No,
c’est bon,
it’s good Finn, he will be scared away.”
I pulled over and dropped my head against the steering wheel. “Crap!”
Colette put her hand on my arm. “It is all good, Finn.”
I looked over at her and saw her eyes were wide with concern, compassion, pity, or something similar. Whatever it was, it helped. I reached over in front of her, got out the car registration and proof of insurance, then waited for the nice police officer to come give me a ticket. I looked around to see if the other car was waiting for us somewhere, but it was dark and I had no clue what it looked like, anyway.
It’s just a ticket Finn,
observed Spring.
Yeah, but I’m going to have to pay for it.
No big deal, we just made $1500 in the last couple of days. You can afford it.
That lightened my mood considerably.
I guess you’re right. It’s just a ticket.
Of course, the nice officer didn’t just take my license and registration, he politely asked me to get out of the car and then proceeded to force me to recite the alphabet backward and walk in a straight line. It was utterly humiliating.
The dark cloud that had formed right over my head started raining on me as I sat heavily back into the car. I didn’t dare look at Colette, but just glowered at the road in front of us.
Colette started laughing.
I turned my scowl on her. “What’s so funny?”
“You are so funny!” She reached up and put her hand on my face. “You are such a good boy.”
The words alone were condescending, but the fond look on her face took the sting out of it. I suddenly felt sheepish and self-conscious. “I just don’t like to get in trouble with the police.”
“Yes, I can see zat, but we must go now. Drive forward and we shall look to see if still he follows us.”
Oh yeah, the guy who wanted to hurt Colette was still out there. I followed her directions as we drove randomly through a city neighborhood. After a dozen turns and stops, she was satisfied that we weren’t being followed. We got back on the highway at a different intersection and were soon cruising home.
Colette sat far to the right. I glanced at her shadowed figure beside me. “Okay, who is this guy and why do you think he killed Pietro?
She sat silently for a moment, then said, “His name is Fergus McCormick. He was once my lover.”
Gah!
“What?”
“We were to be married, but he wanted to own me and tell me what to do, so I canceled the wedding.”
My heart sank.
What do you expect? She’s older than you and very pretty, even if she’s too small to make lots of children. Of course, she’s had sex. Probably a lot of it.
Gee, thanks for cheering me up
,
Spring.
No problem. If you’re intimidated, we can work on making your penis larger.
Gah! Stop it.
Spring giggled and I tried to process what Colette had been saying.
“I’m sorry Colette, could you say that again?”
“I moved to Italia to get away from him, and there I found Pietro, but Fergus, he has a terrible temper and he followed me and threatened Pietro. It was very terrible, so I left and came to the United States to finally be rid of them both.”
I tried to trashcan my emotions and thought about this for a minute from her perspective. It really sucked.
“Zat is why I was so angry with Pietro when he followed me too.”
I searched for something to say. The memory of our passionate encounter came flooding back. I almost told her that I understood why men would follow her across the ocean to be with her, but caught myself in time.
“Now you think this Fergus guy killed Pietro?”
“Yes. Fergus, he is very jealous and has a terrible temper.”
“Why did you even agree to marry him?”
“It is as they say, women, we like the bad boys, no?”
Great. I’m sure my performance tonight had torpedoed any chance I had with her.
You are such a putz
,
Finn. If she likes bad boys, be a bad boy.
I don’t know how.
We had quite a bit of time on the way home to plan our next move. I didn’t want her to go back to her hotel room alone. It seemed obvious that this Fergus dude knew where she was living since he was able to follow us after I picked her up. I didn’t want her staying home alone, so I invited her to stay at my parents. I knew (hoped) they wouldn’t mind. She agreed readily and pointed out that being the jealous fellow he was, Fergus might be gunning for me as well. She thought it was best that neither of us were left alone.
Of course, Spring was excited by all the drama and had the time of her life suggesting places that Colette and I could do it in my parent’s house.
We arrived at the hotel a bit after midnight. Colette insisted that I wait for her in the car at the entrance and keep watch while she packed and checked out. She ran inside, and I waited. Time moved very slowly, and by the five-minute mark, I was jumping in my seat. I kept looking around the parking lot, searching for some guy with a gun pointed at my head.
What the hell am I supposed to do if I see some guy with a gun?
I whined to Spring.
Just act cool, hop out of the car and kick him in the nards.
Gosh, that sounds so easy, I wonder why I didn’t think of that.
That’s because you sleep through most of the spy movies we watch.
After another fifteen minutes, I saw a man walk past my car into the front lobby. It was hard to tell in the yellow light, but I thought he might have red hair. He wasn’t particularly big and scary, but you didn’t need to be to use a gun, did you?
After an internal argument, I jumped out of the car and raced into the building in time to see the man walking down the hall. Colette’s room was on the second floor. I breathed a sigh of relief and went up to find her. When I got to her room, I knocked on her door and waited for her to answer. When I couldn’t wait any more, I knocked more insistently and called through the door. My heart started racing again.
“Colette? It’s Finn. Are you all right?”
I heard a soft scrape on the other side of the door, and I exhaled when Colette answered it. My relief didn’t last long. Colette’s eyes were wide, and her face was drawn and troubled. There was blood on her shirt.
“Oh my God, Colette, you’re bleeding!”
She shook her head and said, “Non.” She waved me into the room with short jerky movements. When I was inside, standing close to her, I saw that not only was there blood on her shirt, there was a gun in her hand. She reeked of blood.