Alex in Wonderland (The Wonderland Series Book 1) (17 page)

28

The
Games People Play

 

The Sumner
Oil Building
rose
forty-eight floors in the New Orleans CBD,
dwarfing all surrounding skyscrapers except

One Shell
Square
. Even though his position was all title and
no real responsibility, Alex’s penthouse office commanded an imperial view
including the grand curve of the Mississippi
earning New Orleans the nickname “Crescent
City.” He truly loved his hometown,
never more than today when he looked out the window and felt like the entire
city was at his feet. He was still enjoying the moment when he called Jolie.
They hadn’t spoken since yesterday’s phone conversation outside the restaurant.

“Any new
developments?”

“Oh,
bébé!”
Jolie said. “When
Angelique got home from Galatoire’s, there was already a message from Camilla
on her machine. She wants to rendezvous at the camp at
one o’clock
tomorrow afternoon.”

“Right after the bridal shower
Heidi Perrin’s giving her,” Alex said with a chuckle. “There’s a twisted irony
in there somewhere. Hey! Maybe one of the girls will give her condoms.”

“Never mind the jokes. Angelique
told Camilla she wanted to go early so she’s got keys to the house for us.
While Camilla is at Heidi’s shower, Angelique will call to claim a headache and
explain that not one but two horse-hung studs will be there for Camilla’s
pleasure. She’ll probably get a ticket for speeding across the lake!”

“Oh, what tangled webs we weave,”
Alex said.

“You’re not kidding, kiddo. And
I’ve barely got time to coach the supporting cast on getting Camilla’s antics
on videotape.”

“What supporting cast?” Alex asked.
“I mean, who are these alleged studs anyway?”

“I’ll explain everything when I see
you tomorrow. The heat is on!”
 

Alex digressed for a moment. “Talk
about heat. Angelique scared hell out of me when she told Camilla the fishing
camp rendezvous could wait until after the wedding. If Camilla had agreed, that
would’ve ruined everything.”

“Angelique didn’t want to sound too
pushy, Alex. She knows Camilla thinks about dick more than gay men and was
positive she’d take the bait. And did she ever!”

“She was practically salivating,”
Alex reported. “You should have seen her face when Angelique said her boyfriend
was insatiable. Not to mention the intentional gaffe about a foursome.”

“Angelique told me, but never mind
about all that. We need to be at the fishing camp by
noon
to set things up. Can you pick me up at eleven?”

“Sure. In fact I can do anything I
damned well please. I’ve been studiously playing by Daddy’s rules since I got
back, and I know it’s working because last night I overheard him call off the
last of his bloodhounds.”

“Great. We sure as hell don’t need
those guys sticking their noses in what’s going down tomorrow.”

“Hang on a second.” Alex put Jolie
on hold while he took an inter-office call. He clicked back to Jolie. “Daddy
just summoned me to the inner sanctum. I hope I didn’t speak too soon about the
bloodhounds.”

“Good luck!”

“I’ll need it. See you tomorrow at
eleven.”

“Eleven it is.
Ciao
for
now!”

Alex hung up and took a deep breath
as he headed down the hall. Randolph Sumner’s suite of offices was legendary in
New Orleans. They were designed to
intimidate the visitor, and with their luxurious First Empire furnishings,
complete with authentic period paintings, they usually succeeded. Alex felt
like he was visiting a museum whenever he entered the towering double doors
with intricate marquetry and fine veneers and passed through a lavish waiting
room before reaching his final destination. The CEO of Sumner Petroleum reigned
from an ormulu-adorned desk that once belonged to Bonaparte himself. Alex
always thought the calculated set-up spoke volumes about his father’s persona.

Napoleon complex,
anyone?

“Hi, Daddy.”

Sumner’s outstretched palm told his
son to sit. “How was lunch with Camilla yesterday?”

“Very nice. Bitsy and Puddin’
joined us.”

“So everything’s alright with you
two?”

"You bet.” He knew his father
despised small talk and wasn’t surprised when he got right to the point.

“So whatever burr you had up your
butt is gone?”

Alex gave him a dutiful nod. “I'm
fine, Daddy. I promise.”

Sumner frowned. “I’m no fool,
Alexander. You must’ve been pretty unhappy to run away from home, and I figure
it’s because I ran your life the way I ran my company. That probably seems cold and calculating, but it’s the only way I knew.
It’s how my father raised me, and his father before him. I went to school where
I was told, married a woman that was hand-picked and went to work for my father
straight out of college. I’m proud to say I’ve expanded Sumner Petroleum into a
bonafide empire. It’s the kind of inheritance people steal and kill for, even
die for.”

Dear God, Alex thought grimly. You
sound more like Big Daddy Pollitt every day. Pretty soon you’ll be bragging
about your “twenty-eight thousand acres of the richest land this side of the
valley Nile.” Alex began tuning him out, but Sumner
grabbed his attention with an abrupt change of tone. The uncharacteristic
softness in Sumner’s voice put Alex on high alert.

“Son?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I want you to have it all. Every
dollar and cent, every oil well and plantation. And I want you to have it with
my blessing.”

Sumner’s unctuous sincerity was the
biggest red flag of all. Alex had heard it before, many times, and braced
himself for the façade to drop. He wasn’t disappointed as Sumner stood and
gripped his desk with both hands as he leaned toward his son.

“But if you run off again, I won’t
come looking for you. And this!” He swept his arm around the opulent office and
indicated the infinite Louisiana
horizon behind him. “I swear to God all this will be gone forever. Do I make
myself clear?”

Alex tried not to smile. You’re so
predictable, Daddy. You pulled that damned gravy train into the station right
on schedule.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Sumner leaned back. “Now
tell me something, son. Man to man.”

Uh, oh, Alex thought. Is this the
moment of truth? Did Daddy’s investigators uncover my French Quarter double
life? Do they know what was going on in that little cottage on Sugarloaf Key?
Have they interrogated Cord?

“Yes, sir?”

“Is marriage to Camilla really such
a terrible thing?”

Heartily relieved, Alex seized the
moment and emoted with a flair he knew would make Jolie proud. “No, sir. I’ve
done a lot of thinking since I got back and I guess being gone made me realize
how much I loved and missed Camilla. After seeing her again yesterday, I’m
counting the days until the wedding.”

Sumner beamed.
 
“Son, I can’t tell you how happy that makes
me.”

Along with Camilla and her
money-grubbing parents, Alex thought. Not to mention the stockholders in Sumner
Petroleum and Gulf South Oil. Well, I suppose one good crock deserves another.

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I promise to
make sure Camilla gets everything she deserves.”

“That’s my boy.” More expansive
than ever, Sumner strode around his desk and put an arm around Alex’s shoulders
as he ushered him out of the Napoleonic inner sanctum. “Now I want to show you
how glad I am to have you back home.”

“Really?”

Whatever it was, Alex knew it would
have a big price tag and watched, secretly amused, as his father reached in his
pocket and fished out a set of shiny new keys.

“It’s in the garage downstairs.”

Alex was disgusted by such empty
extravagance as he fingered the keys to a Lamborghini Murciélago. The emptiness
deepened when he recalled Cord’s passion for sports cars and his
near-adolescent excitement when a Lamborghini roared past their bus somewhere
below Miami. Alex had been shocked
when Cord told him the car cost a quarter of a million dollars.

“I don’t know what to say.”

"'Thanks, Dad!' will do just
fine.” Sumner said.

“Thanks, Dad!”

“You’re welcome, son.” Sumner
flashed his best Corporate Takeover smile. “And for God’s sake, keep that
expensive machine out of poor neighborhoods.”

A car like that makes the whole
world a poor neighborhood, Alex thought.

“Don’t worry.”

Sumner’s high spirits faded as he
stopped short of the outermost office door. “There’s one more thing, Alex.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s about the guy who turned you in.”

“Oh?” Alex’s insides turned to
mush.

Sumner shook his head. “I can't
figure out that weird sonovabitch.”

Weird or queer? Alex wondered.
“What do you mean?”

“First off, how’d you get hooked up
with him?”

“He was on the bus,” Alex said,
trying to think fast and stay sane at the same time. He was certain his
father’s spies had supplied some pertinent details and tried to squeeze them
into some plausible sequence. “The bus had an accident coming into Big Pine
Key, so he and I hitchhiked to Sugarloaf Key. That’s when he saw me on CNN and
called the police.”

“Well, all I can say is he’s one
crazy bastard. I’ve seen and heard some peculiar shit in the business world,
but I couldn’t believe it when my attorneys called this morning and said the
guy had refused the reward.”

Alex’s heart clutched. “He what?!”

“Said he didn’t want the money, but
that’s not the strangest part.”

“Oh?”

“He sent me a bill for a grilled
cheese sandwich, a toothbrush and a lipstick of all things.

What the hell do you suppose that’s
all about?”

Alex shrugged. “No idea. Like you
said, he’s one weird s.o.b.” He jangled the gleaming Lamborghini keys, so
ecstatic from the news about Cord that he almost floated to the private
elevator. He couldn’t wait to be alone with his thoughts “Thanks again for the
car.”

“You’re welcome. You can take the
rest of the day off too. I know you’re anxious to try out your new toy.”

“You’re reading my mind, Daddy.
I’ll see you and mom at dinner.”

Fifteen minutes later Alex roared
along I-10, not at all oblivious to the stares garnered by his outrageous toy.
The windows were down, and the wind snatched at his blonde curls as he raced
north until Lake Pontchartrain nudged the highway from
the right. Myriad whitecaps warned of an approaching storm, but Alex was consumed
by far more important omens. He truly believed he had received the sign he was
waiting for and was happier than he thought possible. Jolie was right, he
thought. Cord didn’t want the money after all. He wanted me!

“I’m in love!” he yelled into the
wind. “And he’s an honest man!”

29

Sex,
Lies and Home Videotapes

 

“Judas Priest!”
Jolie looked through his parlor window and gasped at the dazzling yellow
Lamborghini. It had only been parked a few minutes but was already attracting a
crowd of curious locals and tourists. “I’ll say one thing for your old man.
When he tries to buy you off, he doesn’t skimp!”

“I guess big guilt requires big
bucks.”

Jolie didn’t know much about
automobiles, but even he could see this one was built for speed as well as looks.
“How fast does that thing go?”

“Zero to 62 in less than four
seconds. It tops out at over two hundred miles an hour.” Alex nodded toward the
interior. “The engine’s in the middle, and the transmission’s divided front and
back. For better balance at top speed.”

Jolie yawned. “Mechanics bore me,
but it’s a shame you didn’t have it for your Key West
getaway. No lawman in the world could’ve caught you.”

“Story of my life,” Alex joked. “A
day late and a quarter of a million dollars short.”

“Is that what that hunk of metal is
worth?”

“Well, since this particular Lambo
is used, I suspect Daddy Dearest got a little off the list price for a new
one.”

Jolie whistled. “That’s a lotta
moola for something that resembles a gilded suppository. It does have a trunk,
doesn’t it?”

“Sort of.”

Jolie shoved an expensive leather
satchel in Alex’s arms. “Then stash this, will you?”

Alex was puzzled by the
bag’s lightness. “It’s empty.”

“
Au contraire, mon
cheri.
Your whole future’s inside.”

“Huh?”

“Like I told you yesterday, all
will be revealed.” Jolie opened the front door and nodded at the car. “Let’s
roll.”

Despite loathing what the
Lamborghini represented, Alex couldn’t help preening a bit as he waded through
the admiring crowd. Jolie, however, was grandeur personified as he swept
through the gathering like Moses parting the Red
Sea
.
More than a touch of Tatiana colored his performance, but
he regretted his flamboyance when he realized the car was
under
four feet high. His dread worsened when Alex triggered the scissor doors to
reveal a treacherously low-slung interior.

"Are you kidding me?!" he
balked.

"Of course not." Alex
smiled and gestured at the forbidding seat. "Welcome aboard."

“Good God, boy! I’ll need a shoe horn
to get in and out of that thing.”

“You’ll manage.” Alex slipped
smoothly into the body-hugging leather seat and, along with the crowd, watched
Jolie’s less than stellar maneuvers. He couldn't help chuckling when Jolie
settled beside him with an awkward plop. “Well, maybe with a little more
practice.”

“Humph! I’d like to see the tsarina
negotiate this sardine can!” Jolie recovered enough lost dignity to deliver a
regal wave to the crowd before gliding down

Royal
Street
. Then he made a confession. “I’m getting
too old for this nonsense, Alex. I feel like I ought to be wearing goggles and
a scarf.” He shifted in the small seat.
“Or maybe a truss.”

“Never mind about
all that.
It’s exactly an hour to the Spivey fishing camp. Now fill me
in on your best-laid plans.”

“Well, before Angelique set the
trap at Galatoire’s, I telephoned Rodney Milliken. You may recall he was the
Queen of Hearts at your coming out party.”

“I remember.” Alex turned right on

St.
Peter Street
and headed for Rampart. “He’s had
half the guys in New Orleans,
right?

“
C’est vrai.
Which is why I figured he was the best choice to cast the tricky supporting
cast in our little one-act play. He’s an expert at scouring the Quarter’s
underbelly for men who need money and don’t ask questions. Since he owes me a
couple of favors, he didn’t ask questions either.”
 

Alex frowned and eased the
Lamborghini into the light flow of traffic on I-10 west. “What are you saying?
I mean, are these guys criminals or what?”

“Only peripherally,” Jolie replied
with a shrug. “Which is preferable since we could hardly hire upstanding
citizens for such a caper. All that matters is they’ll do the job for a
thousand each, and that’s a real bargain if you think about it. Bottom line is
we have to get as down and dirty as your randy fiancée, and these are
definitely the men for the job. Know what I mean?”

“I guess," Alex conceded, “but
you should’ve told me about the thousand bucks. I didn’t bring any money.”

“Not to worry. I brought cash
because you never have any, and I hardly think this particular pair will honor
your Visa card.”

Alex sounded dubious. “Man, this
whole idea is crazy.”

“Of course it is. That’s what makes
it so much fun.”

“For you maybe. I’m scared to
death.” Jolie didn’t say anything, but Alex felt his disapproving gaze. “Maybe
we should just forget about the whole thing and—”

Jolie grabbed his knee. “Listen,
kiddo. I’ve gone to a helluva lot of trouble to set you on the road to
liberation once and for all. Granted, there’s risk involved, but that’s
inevitable when you’re juggling people’s lives. I’ve done plenty of homework on
these two rapscallions, and I guarantee they’re capable of delivering the
goods.” He squeezed to the point of pain. “Are we on the same page, or do you
want to turn this outrageous contraption around and go back to your life of
lies?”

Alex felt sheepish and
ashamed. In the brief time they had known each other, Jolie had proven himself
to be reliable and devoted, and Alex had no cause to doubt either his motives
or methods for helping him out of this monstrous jam. He knew the real reason
for his apprehension was challenging the stale, dead-end status quo of his
life, and to conjure the requisite bravery he thought about Cord. He loves me
and he’s not a fortune hunter, Alex thought, repeating the deeply personal
mantra until it was embedded in his psyche. He was exhilarated to discover it
delivered the rush of courage he so desperately needed.

Even when we’re apart,
Alex thought happily, Cord is here to support me.

“You’re right as usual, Jolie.
I’m sorry.”

Jolie patted Alex’s knee
and withdrew his hand. “No need to apologize for a bad case of the fantods. Now
as I was saying, these two fine specimens of youthful manhood are named—promise
you won’t laugh!—Cletis and Dooley. According to Rodney when they’re not
working the shrimp boats, adding to their tattoo collection or boffing their
fat, white trash girlfriends, they peddle their sausages at the Corner Pocket.”

Another chunk of plot
fell into place when Jolie mentioned the most notorious gay-for-pay bar
in the French Quarter. “They’re hustlers?!”

“Oh, they’re lots of
things, my boy. Rodney says they’re both hung like mules and have made any
number of amateur porn videos. Cletis has also worked behind the cameras, which
is why he’s ideal for the job.”

“What do you mean?”

Jolie jerked his head
toward the trunk. “My little black bag back holds a teeny tiny camera phone
with video recorders and a very compact camcorder. Once the guys get Camilla in
a compromising position, Cletis will suddenly get a phone call while Dooley
keeps the heat turned up. With his alleged elephantine endowments, Camilla will
be thoroughly distracted and you’ll
both
get the footage you need.”

Alex chortled. “So to
speak.”

“So to speak,” Jolie
echoed. “Angelique will be a no-show of course, so, Camilla will have these two
gents all to herself. Given Camilla’s track record with the UPS
men, double trouble is right up her alley.”

“So to speak,” Alex said
again. He turned serious. “So once we have Camilla on videotape, it’s just a
matter of getting Daddy to break the engagement by sending him a copy.”

“Anonymously of course.”

“And in a tasteful plain
brown wrapper,” Alex added.

“Precisely. That ought to
give the old guy a jolt.”

“Now that you mention it,
if Daddy sees Camilla with her ankles around her neck it could give him
a heart attack. He’s such a damned prude.”

“So much the better. We'd
be killing two birds with one stone.”

Alex’s frowned. “For
God’s sake, Jolie. I just want the bastard to call off the wedding. I don’t
want him to die!”

“My apologies for such
bad taste.” They rode in silence for a few months, each lost in

thought.
Alex recovered first and chuckled to himself. “What’s so funny?” Jolie asked.

“I was wondering what
kind of whitewashed explanation Daddy will give Mother once he decides to call
things off. He won’t dare tell her the truth, although I’m sure she would be
thrilled. She loathed Camilla and is almost as anxious as me to end this whole
charade.”

“Dear, sweet Karen
doesn’t need to know too many sordid details. She especially doesn’t need to
know that her son was one of the cameramen.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up.
“Huh?”

“The camera phone’s for
Cletis. The camcorder is for you.” When Alex gaped, Jolie said, “We
need you for back-up camera work,
bébé.
Insurance, so to speak.”

“Why me? I don’t know
anything about a camcorder.”

“Not to worry. They’re so
easy a child can operate them.”

“Is that the voice of
experience?”

“Actually it’s Rodney’s
voice. My dear, he has the most extensive amateur porno collection in town.
It’s truly amazing how many young men these days are eager to have their
anatomies immortalized on videotape. No doubt because they’re the gay
generation of buffed bodies. Of course I’ll admit sometimes Rodney cheats and
videos while they’re asleep, which I don’t exactly consider cricket. I mean—”

“Never mind all that. Is
the camera phone his too?” He eyed Jolie suspiciously. “I know

you love
new gizmos. It’s yours, isn’t it?”

“Guilty!”

Alex was relieved. “Great.
Then you’ll be assistant cameraman.”

“Not a chance. I'll admit
I adore the occasional naughty home video, but not when they’re co-ed.” He
shook his head as Alex glided onto the causeway across Lake
Pontchartrain, leaving a wake of disbelieving stares in the
tollbooth. “Just one peek at Camilla’s pudendum, and I’d go screaming into the
swamps.”

“How can you be so
squeamish after watching people eat all that disgusting crap on those reality
shows?”

“Everyone has their
bete
noir,”
Jolie sniffed. “Alas, the labium laid bare is mine.” When Alex looked skeptical,
Jolie said, “Pretend you’re doing undercover work. Hmmm. Just like Camilla.”

Alex grimaced. “Will you
please stop with the lame jokes and get serious? I’m a nervous wreck.”

“Calm down, pet. Angelique
drew me a map of the place and gave me her key so we’ll be there in plenty of
time to teach you how to use the camera. All you do is point and shoot through
the window. There’s really nothing to it.”

Alex’s patience was
thinning. “Nothing to it?! You're asking me to secretly photograph my fiancée
screwing some redneck bisexual hustlers and, dammit, that’s not just something
I do every day!”

“Well, look at the bright
side.”

“What’s that, pray tell?”

“You’re gonna see two of
the biggest dicks in the parish.”

The calculated wisecrack
had precisely the desired effect. Alex broke up laughing and his anxiety eased
as they sailed across the causeway. “My dear Jolie. What on earth did I do for
fun before I met you?”

“It’s my guess you didn’t
have much.”

Alex gave Jolie a
dazzling smile. “If that wasn’t true I’d be pissed.”

“Feeling better?”

“Much.” He thought for a
moment. “Poor Camilla.”

 
“Why ‘poor Camilla’?”

“She has no idea what
she’s about to get herself into.”

“Man, oh, man!” Jolie
cackled helplessly. “Considering what Rodney said about these guys, it’s
definitely the other way around. Now step on the gas and show me what
this
thing
can do.”