What Does a Hero do when there’s a naked woman waiting in his bed?
If you remember the scene in Don’t Look Down where JT Wilder comes into his hotel room and Althea is in his bed naked, which BTW, is the scene that convinced St Martins to go for the collaboration, this scene from Lawyers, Guns and Money sort of mirrors it.
Truvey, the woman in the scene, is turning out to be quite an intriguing character as I wrap up the third book in the series, Walk on the Wild Side, even racking up her own body count. And not that way.
This isn’t something they taught in Ranger School or the Special Forces Qualification Course. By the way, ‘breaking sheets’ is the term we used at West Point for the only night we actually got between the sheets of our beds, since the laundry went out the next day and we had to remake the bed anyway. Otherwise, we slept on top of an already made bed, using just our comforter. Time was precious.
Here is the excerpt:
MEATPACKING DISTRICT, MANHATTAN
Kane
drew his forty-five when he saw the matchstick on top of the black iron gate. A
note was taped to his door. He recognized his landlord’s scrawl by the glow of
the street light, but didn’t holster the gun since he was having a bad
twenty-four hours and didn’t see any reason for it to get better.
SHE INSISTED.
Kane
entered, expecting to see Toni in the small sitting room, but it was empty.
Kane went to the doorway to the bedroom. It was dark, but someone was in the
bed. He flipped the overhead fluorescent, gun at the ready.
Truvey
was in Kane’s bed, the sheet strategically layered along the upper curvature of
her bosom. She lay on her side, head propped up with one hand held aloft by her
elbow, a pose that was too perfect to be random. She looked pretty good despite
the awful lighting.
“How
come you didn’t ask if anyone wanted to kill me last night?” Truvey asked.
“Are
you alone?” Kane asked.
“Am
I not enough?” Truvey pouted. “Are you going to shoot me?”
Kane
holstered the pistol. “You broke the sheets.”
“I
what?”
“What
are you doing here?” Kane asked.
Truvey
raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” She sat up, the sheet falling to her waist,
revealing her prominent assets.
“Seriously,”
Kane said.
“I
didn’t ‘break’ your sheets,” Truvey said. “I got between them. The idea is—“
Kane
interrupted her. “By the way, there’s a bomb under the bed.”
Truvey
blinked hard several times as if that helped process the words. “You’re
joking.”
“I’ve
been accused by a number of people of not having much of a sense of humor and
at this moment, I would trust their opinion.”
Truvey
scooted out from between the sheets, revealing a pair of thong panties and a plethora
of skin. Kane tossed her the sundress draped over the books on top of the dresser.
As
she pulled it on, he told her: “Let me dispel with the possibility so we don’t
waste time. I’m not interested in having sex with you. I’m more concerned with
who attacked us last night and why.”
As
the dress settled over her body, with some hard tugging, Truvey backed away
from the bed. “The bomb?”
“It’s
under the bed,” Kane said. “But it’s not armed. Technically it’s just the
explosives. For it to go off it needs–”
“Why
do you have a bomb?”
“It
was on the boat last night.”
Truvey’s
voice climbed a few octaves. “What?”
Kane
indicated the sitting room. “Come on. I’ll explain.”
Truvey
sat on the couch while Kane took the chair that allowed him to see the foyer
and the couch.
“My
apologies for my social faux pas last night,” Kane said. “Do you know anyone
who’d want to kill you?”
Truvey
shook her head. “No.”
“You
sound pretty certain.”
Truvey
spread her hands in innocence. “I’m a B-level actress trying to make my break.
Who’d want to kill me?”
“That’s
what I was asking,” Kane pointed out. “Why are you here?”
“I
liked the way you handled things,” Truvey said. “I wanted to express my
gratitude. I think it could have gotten bad if you hadn’t stepped up.”
“A
thank you card would have worked.”
Truvey
frowned. “You’re a weird man.”
“I’ve
been told that.”
“You’ve
a Vietnam Vet.” She said it in a way that could it could taken as a question or
statement. Kane chose to go the latter route and didn’t respond. “A Green
Beret. I deal with actors all the time. They pretend. You’re the real deal.”
“You
also deal with people like Crawford,” Kane said.
“The
hardest part of show business is getting the money,” Truvey said. “I’m
surprised any movie is ever made given how difficult it is. Producers like to
mix me in with their pitch to the money people.”
“Right.”
“The
producer is a dear friend,” Truvey said. “I believe in his vision.”
“You’re
talking about Selkis, right?”
“Yes.”
“How
long have you known him?”
Truvey
frowned and Kane thought he heard little clangs as numbers moved. “About three
months.”
“And
he’s a dear friend?”
“Oh!
Not like that.”
Kane
had his own little mental clangs as he processed what she meant by ‘that’ which
wasn’t what he had meant.
Truvey
explained further. “He’s, well, you know. Let’s say he prefers different
delights.”
“Right.
When did he ask you to meet Crawford?”
“Selkie,
that’s what I call him, phoned me yesterday morning and we had lunch. He
explained that a big money man he’d worked with before was coming to town and
he had a project he thought would interest him and that there was a role in it
that I would be perfect in and that I’d definitely be cast if it got greenlit
so of course I said yes.”
Kane
unpacked the run-on sentence and pronouns. “Why didn’t Selkis come along?”
Truvey
appeared shocked. “That would have been weird, wouldn’t it?”
“I
guess so,” Kane said, having used his quota of ‘right’ in this conversation.
“Did an Indian named Yazzie talk to you this morning.”
“Oh,
yes. Have you met him? So tall. His skin is so perfect. He could so be my
leading man!”
Kane
indicated the bedroom. “I thought I was going to be?”
She
pouted. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You
are indeed. Did he give you money? Or did Crawford pay you in the limo?”
“I’m
not a hooker.”
“To
not say anything about what happened,” Kane clarified.
“Yeah.
Crawford did. Did he give you some?”
“Yeah.”
Truvey
nodded. “Two thousand. Not bad for doing nothing.”
“Except
for the getting shot at and almost blown up.”
Truvey
frowned. “There is that.” She frowned further. “How much did Crawford pay you?”
“Two
thousand. What did Yazzie want to know?”
Truvey
gave him what Yazzie had told them in the meeting. When she was done, she
pouted slightly. “He’s really handsome but there’s something missing in him.”
“He’s
crossed the river,” Kane said.
“What?”
“Seen
the elephant.”
“Huh?”
Kane
moved on from the combat references. “Can I ask you something else?”
Truvey
became wary. “What?”
“Did
you bring the cocaine or did Crawford?”
“You
won’t rat on me will you?”
“Scout’s
honor.”
“Selkie
supplied it. I don’t use myself. I tried it a few times but I’ve seen what can
happen. I want to have a career, you know? Not be here today, gone tomorrow.”
“Good
plan,” Kane said.
Truvey
changed the subject. “What’s with all the pictures?” She indicated the framed
prints leaning against the wall, everywhere there wasn’t cinderblocks holding
makeshift bookshelves.
“I
like maps. They’re mostly of New York City and show the evolution and history
of the city.”
“See?
That’s part of what the movie is about. New York City. I think. At least Selkie
said it was. He never really gave me the script. He said it was about the dark
underbelly of the Big Apple. Did you see Taxi
Driver? DeNiro? Wasn’t that some acting? Selkie said it was like that,
thematically.”
“I
haven’t seen the movie. But I think I’ve experienced that part of the city.”
“Anyways,
it opens with a scene like that one in Godfather. Or was it Two?
Kid on the boat seeing the Statue?”
“Haven’t
seen either of them either.” He pointed at a book. “There’s The Godfather.”
“What?”
“The
book the movie was based on,” Kane said.
“There
was a book?” Truvey leaned forward, her sun dress looser at the top. She
suddenly spoke as if they were being listened in on. “You know there weren’t
any storyboards, don’t you?”
“I
kind of guessed.”
Truvey
sighed, having exhausted small talk. “You obviously like to read,” she said.
“What else do you like?” She walked over, settling on the arm of the chair.
Kane
forced himself to remain in the seat. “Run. Go to the gym and workout and spar.
Work the heavy and light bag.”
“You
look like you’re in good shape.”
“I
try.”
“I
gotta do two hours every morning,” Truvey complained. “And I can’t eat much of nothing.
People think it’s easy to look like this.”
Kane
didn’t know what to say to that.
“I
appreciate a man who takes care of himself,” Truvey said.
“Right.”
Truvey
became inspired. “I’ve never done it with a bomb under the bed.”
“I
doubt that’s an exclusive club many have aspirations to,” Kane said.
Truvey
frowned. “What-da-ya mean by that?”
“I
mean not many people have done it with a bomb under the bed. That they knew
about.”
“Oh.”
She reached for him and he flinched. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I
got shot in the head,” Kane said. “Kind of messed me up. Plus, I’ve had a bad
day.”
“We
can work on that. And really, the head’s over-rated.”
“That’s
an interesting take,” Kane said.
Truvey got off the chair and went to the light switch for the sitting room. Turned it off. Her body was silhouetted inside the sundress in the doorway to the bedroom, which strangely was more enticing than almost completely naked in the bed. “You know where I’ll be. Above the bomb.” She turned the bedroom light off.
End of excerpt: LAWYERS, GUN AND MONEY
If you want to read what came before, it’s on Wattpad.
