Page 2 of Taking Turns

“Not much,” I say, looking away and turning in my chair to study the lobby down below. “Just looking forward to my time, I guess.”

“You seem to do that a lot these days.”

I shrug and turn back around. Nothing at all interesting down there. “Why not?” I look him dead in the eyes as I take a drink. “We have a lot of fun together. Why shouldn’t I look forward to it?”

Smith turns away and resumes his stalking of Bric and Lucinda. Eventually he says, “They dated a long time ago too.” Smith nods his head down to the Black Room. “We kinda did her together.”

“No shit?” I actually have to shake that image out of my mind because Lucinda… she is just a great big no for me. Who needs a fucking psychiatrist picking your brain when you’re having dirty sex? Not me. “Did you get weird with her?”

It’s a joke. But Smith misses it. “If we did, you’d already know about it.”

Right. “Changing the subject. What about you?” I ask. “You have plans this week?”

“None,” he says without emotion.

“Why do you even bother?” I ask. “I mean, she’s fucking expensive, right? If you’re not having a good time, just buy yourself out.”

Smith glares at me for exactly two seconds. Takes a sip of his drink. Says, “The game only works if there’s four people, Quin. You know this.”

“So you’re doing it for me?” I ask him.

“Do you think I’m doing it for you?”

I glance at my watch again, wishing for midnight to be here already. “I have yet to figure you out, friend. Your world is so foreign to me, I feel like we come from two different planets.”

“Eleven forty-one,” Smith says, not even checking his own watch. “I told ya you were early.”

I roll my eyes, but Smith is too busy crowd-watching. “How come you guys never mentioned Lucinda before?”

“Why should we?” Smith deadpans. And then he shifts his body away from the party and towards me. “It makes no difference.”

“If you were doing her together…” I shrug. “I think it matters.”

“Take it up with Bric.”

“Right.” I sigh. “So… have you seen her?”

“Rochelle?” Smith asks. And then he smiles. It sends a chill up my back. All the way to my neck.

“Who the fuck else would I be talking about?”

“Nope,” Smith says. But still there is that smile.

“What?” I ask. “Why the fuck are you smiling at me?”

“I’m just surprised that we’ve lasted this long,” he says. “Aren’t you? You’re not tired of her yet?”

“Of Rochelle?” It’s my turn to laugh. “Not even a little bit.”

“She was interesting at first, you know? Her quaint Bohemian ways. The apartment, the clothes, the hobbies. Whatever.” He waves his hand in the air. “But I’m not really into her anymore. Not my type.”

“Kinda like Lucinda for me, I guess.” I take another sip of Scotch. “Why haven’t you mentioned this?” I ask. “Is Bric tired?”

“I don’t think so,” he says. “You know how Bric is. He’s a man of habit. He’ll stick it out until one of us makes him change.”

“So it’s just you and your weird shit talking tonight?” He’s making me fucking nervous. But when doesn’t Smith make me nervous? “I’m not done. So if you’re gonna call a meeting about Rochelle, call it knowing that in advance.” I check my watch, decide it’s close enough to midnight for me, and stand up. “See ya around,” I say, nodding to the butler and dropping a twenty on the table.

The security guard outside Smith’s room unhooks the black velvet rope as I approach.