They were staying in the Hotel Pfister in downtown Milwaukee, just five minutes away from Bradley Center, home of the Milwaukee Bucks (who were not in the NBA playoffs yet again) and the site of tonight’s Celia Valdez concert. Suzie and Njord were given standard rooms on the third floor, Suzie in 307, Njord in 309. Suzie’s room featured a queen-sized bed, a small couch, a refrigerator, and a bathroom. The window looked out onto the back parking lot of the hotel, the lot where the valets parked guest vehicles.
Suzie had lunch in the hotel’s café shortly after checking in. She then went back to her room and spent about an hour making arrangements for the King Air to undergo an A-level maintenance check at Midway Airport while they were in Chicago. After that, she took a little nap. After awakening, she made her way back downstairs and had a little chat with the concierge.
“I’d like to get my hands on some Cuban cigars and have them delivered to my room before ten o’clock tonight,” she told him.
“But, Ms. Granderson,” the mid-forties, fussy little man told her, “surely you are aware that Cuban cigars are illegal for importation into the United States and are therefore rather hard to come by.”
She pulled out a wad of twenty dollar bills that Celia kept her supplied with just for such occasions. She peeled off five of them and slapped them down on his desk. “This would be the finder’s fee,” she told him. “Assuming you are able to scrounge up a box for me.”
His eyes widened as he saw the money. “Well ... perhaps I might be able to get my hands on some.”
“I thought you might,” she said with a smile. “How much for a box of Montecristos?”
“That would run ... oh ... around four hundred dollars, I suppose, including the markup.”
She nodded and then peeled of another twenty of the twenties, putting them in a separate pile. “Now don’t even think of trying to fuck me and get me counterfeits,” she warned. “I know the difference; and I would take such an insult very personally, you know what I mean?”
“I would never do such a thing,” he said, clearly insulted by her suggestion. “I take my job very seriously.”
“Forgive me,” she said appeasingly. “I have every confidence in you.”
He picked up the money and made it disappear. “I will make sure that the item is delivered before ten o’clock,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Is there ... uh ... anything else I can arrange for you? Some marijuana perhaps? Or some cocaine? Or even ... you know ... some companionship?”
“No,” Suzie said. “The cigars will do me for now.”
“As you wish,” he said.
She went back to her room and watched TV for a little bit. When she got bored with this, she opened the book she had been reading and worked her way through a few dozen pages. This made her feel sleepy, so she took another nap. She awoke just past 6:00 PM and headed downstairs again, where she ate dinner at a table by herself in the hotel restaurant. That brought her to 7:00 PM. At the arena, Celia and the band would now be dressed in their stage clothes and heading backstage to meet the locals. She had attended the show five times during the tour and was familiar with the routine.
She went back to her room and flipped on the television and channel surfed for a bit before finding that one of the cable stations was showing older episodes of Seinfeld one after the other. She smiled and settled in to watch. It was just as Jerry, Elaine, Kramer, and George were making their bet to see who could go the longest without masturbation, there was a knock at the door.
It was the concierge. He had a box in his hands. Suzie smiled, thanked him, and tipped him another twenty dollars for bringing them to her. Once the door was closed, she opened the box and inhaled the aroma. They were Montecristos all right. She set the box down on the writing desk and then sat back down to watch the rest of The Contest.
Seinfeld gave way to Cheers at 10:00 PM, right about the time that Celia and the band would be finishing their final encores. Next would come the showers and the food and the groupies, if there were going to be any. Charlie and Coop usually imbibed in this particular activity every night. Every once in a while, Laura would as well; always a female—a thought that Suzie found quite arousing. And last night, even Celia had made a request—her first one since her separation from Greg as far as Suzie knew—though she had yet to share any details about it. Suzie knew it had been a man, younger than Celia by a considerable margin, and that he had been good looking (if you were into that sort of thing, which she was not), but that was all she knew. She felt a little bit of dark jealousy at the thought of Celia sharing her body with such a creature, but that was Celia’s business, not hers.
It was just past 11:15 when the phone next to her bed started to ring. She smiled, feeling a little jolt of exhilaration surge through her. She quickly snatched it up. “This is Suzie,” she said.
“Hey, Fly Girl,” Celia’s voice said in her ear. “Still awake?”
“You know it,” she replied.
“Were you able to score?”
“Was there ever any doubt?” she returned.
Celia chuckled a little. “It’s still raining outside, but a good part of my balcony is covered. You up for a little smoke in the rain?”
“Sounds like fun,” Suzie said. “What room are you in?”
“Fourteen-oh-two,” she said. “Bring a sweater.”
“I’ll be there in a few. Should I bring a cigar for Teach?”
“No,” Celia said. “She has ... you know ... something else to occupy her time tonight.”
“Ohhhh, I see,” Suzie said with a smile. It was one of those nights for Jake Kingsley’s wife. It seemed like they were getting a little more frequent of late.
“I’m actually a little bit jealous of her,” Celia said. “She was pretty cute. Has braces.”
“Braces, huh?”
“Yeah,” Celia said dreamily. “Braces. Is it bad that I find that kind of hot?”
“Uh ... no,” Suzie said. “Not at all.”
“That’s good,” Celia’s voice said. “Now hurry up here and let’s get this thing started.”
“Right,” she said slowly. “Get it started.” Had there been perhaps of hint of something in Celia’s tone? Or was it wishful thinking?
She hung up the phone, thinking it was probably the latter. Though the two of them shared a flirtatious relationship, Celia had never made any attempt to advance that relationship any further. Well ... except for that one time, after the last flight of the last tour, when Celia had kissed her, and in more than a friendly manner.
“I just wanted to see what it could be like,” had been her explanation.
Suzie had hoped that maybe the beautiful singer would decide to try a little experimentation after her breakup with Greg, had been highly anticipating such a thing, in fact, but so far ... nothing. Just the normal flirtation and innuendo.
She pulled a sweater out of her travel bag and put it on. She then pulled two of the Montecristos out of the cigar box. She picked up her room key and walked out the door. The elevator was only a few steps away, just past the door to Njord’s room. She pushed the button. When the door opened, she stepped inside and pushed the number 14. Ninety seconds later, she was knocking on the door to Room 1402.
The door opened and there stood Celia. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-up burgundy sweater. Her hair was down and she had no makeup on. And she was absolutely beautiful, Suzie thought. It was apparent by the way her breasts jiggled when she moved that she was not wearing her bra currently. Interesting. And unusual for their get-togethers.
“Come in,” Celia said brightly, standing aside to let her enter.
Suzie came in. Celia’s suite was quite opulent. It had a large sitting room and a bar. The window looked out to the east, to the high rises of downtown and Lake Michigan beyond them, though they could not see the lake currently because of the darkness and the rain.