Free The Players by Gary Brandner

shan’t stay long, dear, but we really mustn’t disappoint them.”
    J. J. detected an unmistakable tug on the leash in the woman’s tone. Yuri Zenger responded with reluctance.
    “I will see you later,” he said, keeping his eyes on Geneva’s breaste.
    “Did I do all right, J. J.?” Geneva asked as Mrs. Keith hustled the Hungarian out of the club.
    “You did fine, just fine,” J. J. told her. Why, he wondered, wasn’t he more elated about it?
    “I don’t like him, J. J., that Rumanian.”
    “Hungarian. I know he’s a creep, sweetheart, but if we deal only with nice guys we starve to death.”
    “I guess you’re right,” Geneva said. “Is there anybody else here we have to talk to?”
    J. J. peered around at the crowd. “I don’t see anybody, I’d like to get with Tim Barrett again, but he’s only got eyes for that skinny broad tonight I wish Milo Vasquez was here, but I’ll have to get to him later.”
    “If there’s nobody else, then can you and me dance?”
    “Sure, why not. Come on, baby.”
    The big girl and the little man walked through the crowd toward the dance floor, and J. J. Kaiser found himself feeling good because there was no more business to do tonight.

CHAPTER 11
    After leaving the Fleet Street office of Worldwide Publications Paula Teal hurried to her flat in Chelsea to change clothes and perform any necessary repairs to her makeup. She wanted to look especially good tonight, though she couldn’t have said exactly why.
    Mike Wilder was, after all, only one of a number of men who had shown an interest in Paula since her divorce from Eric. And why shouldn’t he? Paula was an attractive girl, above average in intelligence, with no serious bad habits. It was not surprising that men desired her company. It just happened that there hadn’t been any one particular man since Eric. So what was special about this Mike Wilder?
    Maybe it was the way he didn’t push things last year in New York. Paula strongly disliked the grope-and-pant school of romance. This was most difficult to explain to men in the liberated 1970s. These days sex was as common as fish and chips, and if you held anything back you were labeled a prude or worse. Paula felt she had sound reasons for holding back, reasons she did not feel called upon to explain, Mike had acted remarkably civilized when she had demurred at sex on their first meeting. He had even made good on his promise to write her.
    As her taxi pulled to a stop in front of Caesar’s Paula tried to fix in her mind exactly what Mike looked like. What a shame it was that she had lost the picture he’d sent her. Strange the way that happened. She would have to tell Mike about it. Still, she found she had no trouble remembering him. Taller than average, dark brown hair with a touch of gray, nice hazel eyes that looked at you a little out of focus because of his obstinate refusal to wear his glasses. She found the silly point of male vanity rather endearing.
    Paula paid off the driver and walked up to the entrance of the discotheque. Solid waves of sound hit her as she pushed open the door, and she wondered if this place had been such a good choice. Perhaps subconsciously she had not wanted too intimate a setting for their reunion. Intimacy, if there was to be any, could come later.
    Standing on tiptoe she saw Mike sitting across the packed room at a table with Christy and several young men. Trust Christy Noone to gather men about her.
    Paula walked carefully between the tables toward them. Christy was the first to see her, and stretched up an arm to wave. Mike turned and peered myopically in her direction, and Paula smiled to see he still would not wear his glasses.
    Mike stood up when she reached the table, and Paula moved naturally into his arms. The short embrace was a bit more intense than she had been prepared for, and Paula stepped back a little breathless.
    “I’m awfully sorry to be so late,” she said.
    “I’m glad you’re here,” Mike told