Sandy found herself surprised at how articulate Beth was, particularly after having met her husband. They seemed an odd pair at best, and acted as if the main point between them was more tolerance than love.
"What about you?" Beth asked.
"I'm a receptionist."
"With a face and body like that, I would've thought you were a model, maybe an actress," Sal said suddenly. Neither woman had seen him enter the kitchen and were now surprised, unpleasantly. Sal grinned behind his dark glasses. It was a smile that didn't show his teeth, just a thin grim line of a mouth. His face was lined and unhealthy-looking.
Beth gave him a cross look. "Try not to scare the guests, okay?" Sal turned back down the hallway, stopping in the bathroom before returning to the living room. "Obviously Sal can be crude at times, and he's been known to have a rather peculiar sense of humor, but he's harmless, I guess."
"He's kind of creepy," Sandy said.
She watched Sandy as if expecting her to continue. When she didn't, Beth said, "So, you're a receptionist?"
"At a bank."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"Not especially."
Both women laughed, and began to prepare the food.
In the living room Frank and Steve were huddled near the bar. "How's the back holding up?"
"Some days are better than others, brother."
"How about the club?"
"It's taking up more and more of my time. We're packing them in though. I didn't plan to still be in the wrestling game at this point, but it's hard to walk away from the money I'm making, even as a manager." Steve mixed himself a fresh drink. "Charlie tells me you guys are tearing things up on the independent circuit."
Frank sipped his drink. "Can't complain."
"I've been trying to convince Steve to work part-time at the school," Luther said, joining them at the bar. "I could use some help with training, but he's too busy watching all those sloppy asses bounce in that dive he's running."
Steve laughed. "There isn't a sloppy ass in the bunch. They're tight, brother. And I mean tight."
"Why don't you guys go light the grill," Charlie said.
As though commanded, Sal opened the blinds concealing one of the sliding glass doors. He cautiously peered around the large deck and adjacent swimming pool as if expecting to find intruders.
Steve caught Frank staring at Sal and nudged him gently with his elbow. "He's cool," he said quietly. "He's with me."
"If you say so." Frank shrugged. People like Steve always had partners, not the kind anyone ever saw or heard of, but rather the kind who sent men like Sal to tag along and watch over their interests.
As Sal slipped quietly outside, Charlie escorted Frank, Steve and Luther to the kitchen. He removed a waxy brown box from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. "Ain't it amazing," he said, "what'll fall off the back of a truck." He opened the box to reveal a dozen slick red, thick London broil steaks.
"It's magic, Charlie," Beth said, lighting a cigarette.
Charlie kissed Beth's cheek as he left the kitchen, taking the steaks with him to the grill outside. It was a strange kiss, Sandy thought, an aggressive peck that seemed almost mean.
The afternoon had mysteriously ended and evening had arrived. Like boys at a summer camp, the three men stood in front of the gas grill tossing lit matches at it until it exploded with a ball of fire and a fierce popping sound. Sal stood off to the side, watching them without comment.
While the steaks sizzled, Frank headed back to the bar to get himself a fresh drink. He found Sandy in the doorway to the kitchen. "Having a good time?"
"The more I drink the more comfortable I get," she said softly. "They're different, but everyone seems nice. Except for Sal. What a weirdo."
"I know what you mean."
"Beth says he's harmless."
"I'm sure he is." Frank winked and moved across the room.
Sal had meanwhile been abandoned on the deck. He watched the grill with a disinterested expression, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Everyone had had quite a bit to drink, and most of the conversations were either dying down or becoming somewhat forced, artificial and dull.
"I think it's time to breathe a little life into this sucker," Steve said from the couch.
"Ooo," Claire said, crossing the room and joining him there. "Is it that time already?"
Pepper removed several small glass vials and a credit card from her purse, handed them to Steve then sat on the floor next to a coffee table in front of the couch. Steve emptied a generous pile of cocaine onto the table and began separating it into thin lines with the credit card.
Frank's eyes immediately shifted to Sandy. She was standing by the bar chatting with Charlie and Beth. Frank was used to seeing drug use – it was rampant on the road – but he could tell by the expression on Sandy's face that she was attempting to mask her discomfort.
"Who's getting in on this?" Steve asked.
Luther joined the others around the couch. Beth turned to Sandy. "Interested?"
"I don't think so." Sandy smiled nervously. "I haven't done coke since high school."
"That's okay," Charlie said, slipping his arm around her shoulder. "You and I can be the odd ones out."
Beth smiled, her eyes softened by the liquor. "Charlie used to put half the state of California up his nose. I'm sure he'd love to tell you all about it."
"How about you, Frank?" Steve asked.
Pepper leaned forward, purposely making her eye-catching cleavage more accessible to Frank, who had been inadvertently standing above her. "Yeah, how about it? Want some?"
"Maybe later," Frank said.
"That's cool." Steve rolled up a dollar bill and bent over to snort a line. "No pressure. We're all friends."
"It's here if you want it." Pepper smiled.
Fearful that Sandy might become angry, Frank joined her and Charlie at the bar. "You two look shit-faced."
"Isn't everybody?" Charlie grinned.
Frank thrust his empty glass at him. "Fix me another one."
"Is he this bossy at home?" Charlie asked Sandy.
"Much worse."
As Charlie removed his arm from her shoulder, his fingers gently brushed her behind. "I like her," he told Frank. "Why she settled for you I have no idea, but I like her."
"I think I'd like to get some air," Sandy said, her eyes smoldering and locked on Frank.
He followed Sandy out to the deck. Sal greeted them with a courteous nod and they continued on until they had reached the edge of the pool. A single floodlight illuminated the area. "What's the matter?" Frank asked her, his voice too low for Sal to hear.
"You were right," she said, hugging herself. "These people are a little too far out for me."
"I thought you were getting along with everyone just fine." Frank moved closer. "It looked to me like you were having a good time. What happened?"
"I just don't think I like the direction this party is headed in."
"You mean the drugs?"
"No," she said purposefully. "I don't mean the drugs." Frank stared at her blankly. "If this is what you meant by not wanting to expose me to the people you work with then – "
"Honey," he interrupted in a tone he hoped was soothing, "what the hell are you talking about?"
"Are you going to stand there and tell me that you had no idea what scene these people are into?"
Frank lit a cigarette and offered her one, but she refused. "I suspected," he admitted quietly. "But I didn't know for sure."
"How many drinks have you had?"
Frank shrugged. "Too many."
"Can you drive?"
"If I have to."
"Because I'm not sure I can."
He moved over to the railing and gazed into the woods. "Do you want to leave?"
Her response was not immediate. "Do you?"
He faced her. "It's up to you."