Snow White and The Hundred Dollar Bill

Dean and Frankie got in the car, and Dean's playlist automatically connected to Bluetooth. 'Here Without You' by Three Doors Down began to play.

After a few seconds, Frankie spoke. "Bro, you play like the same 12 songs over and over, and you have for weeks now. Who the fuck hurt you?"

"It was a long time ago," Dean said.

"And you're still holding a candle for this bitch? What is she like, your baby Mama?"

It took Dean every ounce of self-control not to go off on him for calling Allie a bitch.

"What can I say? I'm loyal to a fault; she is not my baby Mama. She's the last person I would have a kid with," he said.

"It's not bad to be loyal, but with bitches you got to move on. There are other whores in the sea that would fall on a sword to be on you," Frankie declared.

Holy shit, did he just call her a whore? These people turn my stomach, he thought.

"Damn, when was the last time you got laid, big man?"

"Oh, it's been a minute," he said.

"My guess is it's been more like a few hours. You are so uptight all the time. At first, I was a little suspicious, but now I know exactly what is wrong with you. You need to relax, so tonight at 10:00, you, Richie, and I are going to the club."

"10:00. Isn't that kind of late?"

"Mikey, did you forget where you are? You're in LA; 10:00 is early, but that's when the fine bitches come out to play," he said.

"Who doesn't love them, some fine bitches." Dean said with a hint of sarcasm that Frankie missed.

The words burned his mouth like acid. He would like to kill this guy if he had a cereal box handy, he smiled to himself.

"You know, Frankie, I got to be honest. I'm not a one-night stand kind of guy," he said. "Like I said, loyal."

"Mikey, that's OK because you won't be standing very long., not to mention you could easily get as much pussy as you want. And the only person I want you to be loyal to is me. Kapish?"

"It's a nice offer, but I don't think I'm interested in---"

"Yes, you are extremely interested. You're new here, and when your boss invites you to the club, you go to the club. Kapish?"

"I'll be ready at 10 o'clock," he said.

Frankie and Richie picked up Dean at precisely 10. He figured that considering the company he was keeping, they would be going somewhere upscale.

He chose the cashmere suit he had worn the night he and Allie, as far as he was concerned, made love in the back of his truck, regardless of how she may have felt. He had no tie, the top three buttons were undone, and his shoes shined like mirrors. He got in the passenger seat.

"Nice suit, big guy?"

"Thanks, Frankie."

Frankie touched the suit lapel.

"Is that cashmere? That is a fine piece of menswear. Who is it?"

"Bergdorf Goodman," Dean replied.

"You can excellent taste, my friend."

"Thanks for letting me sit in the front."

"I figured you needed the legroom," Frankie said. "Ritchie, don't mind taking the backseat. Do you, Ritchie?"

Franike turned around to the back seat.

"You can learn a few things about style from this man, Ritchie!"

Ritchie took a deep breath in. "Yeah, I guess so. He seems to know a lot about living the good life," he said. "I didn't know accounts made that kind of scratch. Mikey."

"Ritchie, it's not what you do. It's who you do it for. I know a pool guy who makes two thousand a week on one pool. How? Because of who that pool belongs to. This is not the first pool I've cleaned. Ritchie."

"I'd say that a fair answer, Ritchie. How about you?"

Ritchie said nothing.

They were both dressed to the nines, each wearing a bottle of Cologne, which made Dean think of Curtis and Bruss.

They drove for about 30 minutes and ended up in Palo Alto. They pulled in front of the club, where about 100 people were waiting in line. The valet came around the car, and the three got out.

"Welcome to the Crystal Cave Gentlemen's Club," the valet said.

Dean had a feeling this was going to be the type of place they would go to find those "fine bitches."

"Like it?" Frankie asked. "This place is high class with choice ass. You have to be on the list to get in."

"And my guess is you're always on the list?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm always on the list. I control the fucking list," he said.

Dean immediately understood. The Crystal Cave Gentlemen's Club belonged to Frankie Giordano. A perfect place to launder money.

Ritchie put his arm around Dean's shoulder, or at least he tried to. They made their way up the stairs. Dean can already hear the comments. Some positives, a lot of sexual and downright bullshit. He would have bounced someone if he wasn't wearing a 14,000.00 suit.

"Mr. Giordano, how are you this evening? It's been a while since you last graced us with your presence. Who do you have with you tonight?" he asked.

He looked up at Dean.

"This is Mikey DeLuca. He's been working with us. He's a little uptight, so we thought he could benefit from getting a little tail."

"Excellent, Sir. Your section is always ready to go for you and your guests. Do you see anybody in line you would like to start with? Maybe an appetizer or two."

Frankie and Ritchie scanned the line.

"I want the brunette in the low V-cut top," Frankie said.

"And for you, Mr. Ritchie?"

"I'll take the one in the red dress and the one in the silver sequence top. I'm feeling a little hungry this evening," he said.

Dean couldn't believe they were picking out these women-like items on a menu; it deeply disturbed him. The way these asshats referred to women as tail, appetizers, fine bitches, pussy, was repulsive. His mother would be rolling in her grave if she heard talk like this, and his mother wasn't dead.

"And for you, Mr. DeLuca?"

"You know, I think I'll skip the appetizer and go directly to a dessert," he said.

Frankie slapped him on hard the back. People tended to do that when they knew Dean would not slap them back.

"See Mikey, that's the spirit!"

The doorman pulled the three women out of the line. They were overly excited. As they approached, Dean could hear them arguing over who got the big one.

One said, "In all honesty, we can all have the big one."

Dean stood perfectly still as Richie and Frankie waved the girls over to them. The girls' faces fell ever so slightly. The doorman, somewhat smaller than Dean, unhooked the rope and let them through.

The Crystal Cave was a high-class establishment. It looked like something you would see from a movie or an episode of Miami Vice. In fact, he saw a couple of faces that he knew from TV and a couple that he had seen in a movie. Natalie would be flipping her shit if she was in here right now. Consequently, Dean would also be flipping his shit if she was in here right now.

A girl, maybe all of 22, met them at the door and led them through the crowd to Frankie's personal section. It was cordoned off with red ropes and had two sizeable high-back couches made of leather with a round table in the center.

"I'm Peppermint," she said. "I will be your servant this evening."

Servant? Not server but servant. Did everyone in this town have daddy issues?

They all took a seat. Frankie spoke for the group. "The ladies want champagne, so bring us a couple of bottles of Cristal Rose. My main man, Ritchie, wants Glen Levitt, 12 years old on the rocks, to bring the bottle. I want a grey goose on the rocks twist of lime. Bring the bottle. For my boy Mikey over there, what do you want, Mikey?"

"I'm good," Dean said

"No, you're not. Order a drink, Mikey," Frankie said, though it sounded more like a demand.

Dean tried to pick something they most likely didn't have.

"Then I'll have a glass of Far Iente 2017."

"And bring the bottle Frankie added. You, my friend, have excellent choice in wine," he said.

"I tend to drink more wine than liquor, not that I don't enjoy a stiff drink now and then."

Dean drew his lips to his teeth and flicked his brow once

"Thank you, Peppermint," he said

"No, no, Mikey, you don't thank her. That's her fucking job. You shouldn't thank her for doing her fucking job. That's why she gets paid, well."

They had been there for about two hours, and reluctantly, Dean was two bottles in. All he wanted was to get back to his hotel room. He was getting tired of strange women hanging all over him. He had already been offered two blow jobs, one foursome, a mother-daughter combo, and two single ladies. He had never been so glad that he chose not to live this way. He'll take his mid-level government job over this shit any day. He'd take Allie over these women any day.

Frankie whispered something to the redhead that was sitting on his lap. She got up. He slapped her hard on the ass.

"And don't fuck around!" he yelled at her.

"You're looking a little tired there, Mikey."

"I guess I'm not used to the LA lifestyle yet," he said.

"Not sure if I ever will."

The redhead returned and put something in Frankie's hand.

"Don't worry. We will get you localized and laid! Now, let's get this party started."

Dean looked exhausted. Start? Ugh.

Frankie leaned forward and dumped a mound of white powder on the table.

He dipped his pinky in it and rubbed it on his gums.

"I've had better, but it's decent. This is going to wake you right up, Mikey. Loosen you up, too. I know you have a tight ass, but stop being one too."

"Cut it up," he told the redhead.

She bent over at the waist, exposing herself to the entire club. Women in these kinds of establishments tend to go without underwear. It makes for easier access; Dean looked everywhere else but at her.

Frankie handed the redhead a $100, and she rolled it into a tight tube. She went to give it to Frankie, but he pointed at Dean. I don't want to be rude to the guest. He gets the first choice. Dean's stomach churned, and his heart was already racing. He never ingested anything more potent than hard liquor. He wouldn't even take painkillers.

Then, the assistant director's voice rang through his head. Short of killing someone, do whatever it takes to keep your cover and gain their trust.

The redhead picked up the mirror, walked over to Dean, and sat on his lap. All Dean could think of at this moment was this girl had her nasty crotch bare on his $14,000 Bergdorf Goodman cashmere suit. He wanted to shove her off.

She gave him the $100 and held the mirror just below his chin.

"Well, come on," Frankie said. "Unless you have a good reason not to. And as far as I'm concerned, you don't."

Dean positioned the money in his nose and inhaled the smallest line on the mirror. It burned his nostril. He felt it all the way to the corner of his eyes. He felt it running down, burning the back of his throat. He pinched the bottom of his nose to wipe off any residue and gently pushed the redhead off his knee.

"Come on, big man, do another one. Someone your size can easily put down three."

"I'm good for now. Catch me the next time around," he said.

His tongue and throat had gone numb. He felt his pulse quicken. He felt intense alertness, power, and energy. He felt more confident and excitable.

"No, you can take your fair share now. Like I said, a guy like you can easily do three."

Again, it was a demand, not a statement.

Dean tried to hide his reluctance. He put the 100 back up his nose and did two more heftily cut lines. This is not good, he thought to himself, because he liked this feeling. It was like the feeling he had the first time he climaxed with Allie. When he looked into her eyes and said, WOW, except now he was more alert and more aware.

He also felt his sex drive kick into fifth gear. However, he was having feelings of anxiety, paranoia, and a little bit of agitation. He was an FBI agent sitting in a strip club snorting cocaine. He looked around the club and began to wonder if people knew.

Unfortunately, by the time the mirror came back around, it was empty. Yes, he now thinks it's unfortunate. About two minutes later, the redhead returned with a giant bag this time. She did the same ritual as last time: bending, exposing, and cutting.

Peppermint had bought another bottle of wine. She poured him a full glass. He picked it up by the stem and took a long draw. The mirror was brought back to him first.

This was the last thing he wanted to do. Jesus Christ, I really don't want to do this again.

"But you do. It was the devil on his shoulder. I think you must. Do another one. Yeah, this shit is fantastic, said the angel."

What would Natalie say if she saw him if she knew what he was doing? What would Allie think of him? Her words about doing things against your values and morals pounded in his head. His telling her that she was overreacting echoed back to him. What values and morals was he going to sacrifice next?

He was about to turn it down, but Frankie stared at him. They were testing him, ensuring he was legit and not threatening their operation. This time, there was no small line; she must have got double the amount. He finished the glass of wine, leaned forward, and put the glass on the table. He stayed in that position so the redhead couldn't sit on his lap again. He made two fat lines and waved her off like an annoying fly.

He sat back and let the feeling overtake him. Parts of his body were tingling. After soaking it in for a few minutes, he saw a woman. She was built like Allie. Her hair was the same color but duller. Her face was decent enough, but nothing compared to Allie's beautiful eyes, supple lips, and porcelain skin. At that moment, he was feeling lonely and highly aroused. Maybe Frankie was right. He needed to loosen up and get laid. He locked eyes with her.

He used a single finger to beckon her over. He patted the open space on the bench next to him. She immediately came over and took a seat.

"Hi, I'm Allison," she said.

Of course, you are.

She looked into his eyes. "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."

"Thanks, I get that a lot," he said.

Frankie looked over, and he smiled.

"It's about time you loosened up Mikey."

Dean just nodded his head back at Frankie

"So, Allison,"

"Call me Allie. Everybody else does," she told him.

"Of course they do. I won't be calling you Allie."

What the odds are, out of 100 plus people, he picks a woman who reminds him of Allie. Her name is Allison, and she wants him to call her Allie. This was either a sign that he should go ahead because his Allie wasn't staying faithful to him OR a sign to remind him that he already had an Allie. On the bright side, at least, she was wearing pants. That made him feel a little better about her quality and self-esteem.

"So, Mikey, you know Ritchie and Frankie?"

"That I do."

"How I have never seen you with them before," she said.

He looked at Frankie and nodded as if to say, "You can tell her she knows all about us."

"I work with them. I am their accountant, and I started a few weeks ago."

She laughed; "You sure don't look like an accountant."

"I get that a lot too. I have also been known to do a little bit of collections."

"Now that I believe," she said.

Dean finished off the third bottle of wine.

He sat for a while and watched Allison. She was pretty, she wasn't beautiful. She was dancing for him. Of course, it reminded him of Allie. The mirror came back around, and Dean took in another fat line. After that last line, he made an executive decision.

Fuck it. She knew this might happen, and he didn't really care right now

He only gave a shit about one person. Himself.

"Hey, Allison, have you ever done a body shot?" he asked

"I can't say that I have," she replied.

He waved Peppermint over

"I need two shots of tequila, salt, and limes."

Peppermint went to the bar and brought back the requested items. She set them on the table. He turned to Allison and looked her up and down.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing is wrong. I'm just trying to choose a place to put my salt."

"Oh, well, do you see somewhere you would like to put it?" she asked

Dean's mind pulled up the image of Alvarez licking Allie's stomach and other areas south of her border.

By his rationalization, this was a way of evening the score.

"How about your stomach," he said.

He stood up, and Alison laid back on the bench. Everyone was watching him with intrigue.

He got down on his knees next to her and lifted her shirt. She had a very flat stomach that was brown from the LA sunshine. He slowly ran his fingers down her stomach. It must have tickled because he felt her abs contract.

He chose a spot as close to her pelvis as possible. He slowly ran his tongue along her belt line. He did this twice: carefully sprinkled the salt onto her, took the lime, and put it between her teeth. Everyone was still watching intently. Frankie and Ritchie looked eagerly at what he was doing.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I'm more than ready," she answered.

He slowly licked the salt from her abdomen, took the shot of tequila, went to her mouth, and sucked the lime dry. He took the spent lime and put it in the shot glass, then he went back to her mouth, and he kissed her deeply, his tongue meeting hers, the taste of tequila on his lips. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. They were hazel. He could see flecks of gold and green. They were lovely. Maybe even more than Allie's.

"Now it's your turn," he said. "Do you think you have a handle on the procedure?"

"I think I know what I am doing," she said.

She sat up, took off her shoes, and stood on the bench. She unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest. All the women in the vicinity looked at him in awe. She licked him at the Crest of his pectoral muscle. She carefully put on the salt, put the lime in his mouth, and, as Allie once said, lick it, shoot it, suck it.

She sucked on the lime and then spit it on the floor. She clamped her mouth onto his, hopped up, and wrapped her legs around him. He could feel the warmth of her body. He missed the feeling of having a woman close to him. He hitched her up and got a firm grip on her ass.

Frankie yelled to Peppermint to bring 12 more of those.

"We're all doing fucking body shots!" he shouted.

The girls squealed with delight.

"Hey Mikey!" Frankie yelled. Dean broke the kiss and looked at him. "Go to the back wall, make a left, and tell the bouncer Freddie said it was OK."

Dean walked off, carrying her still wrapped around him, and they kissed wildly. Holding her up by her ass. Her fingers were enlaced in his sandy brown hair. His body was tingling all over. His erection bulging against his suit pants.

She could feel him as her pussy pressed against him. She started to ride him slowly. She was so wet for him that she left a wet spot on his pants.

"I'm going to fuck you hard... my Princess Buttercup."

Frankie looked at Ritchie with a big smile.

"We did what we set out to do. Get De Luca laid. And Dean got laid. Twice.