Free Dead Sexy by Linda Jaivin Page B

one cab that pulled up was hijacked by a group of people who’d strolled over from the Basement, drunkenly bellowing the chorus of an Ed Kuepper song. Fuck it, Nicola thought. I’m going back, I’mgetting my scarf and I’ll use Johnny’s mobile to call a cab.
    Although she was getting used to his little surprises, Liz was unprepared for the sight that greeted her in the top-floor boardroom of Bent Towers. ‘Johnny? What are you doing?’ She laughed. ‘You are so
out there,’
she exclaimed, stamping her feet in amusement as she took in the handcuffs, the scarf and the neat pile of clothing on the table.
    ‘Lizzy-pizzy?’ Johnny felt very tired and very sad. ‘I’m not sure if I’m in the mood.’
    Liz stared at him, incredulous. Then she noticed something. The scarf. Liz had, as she was the first to admit, a poor memory for appointments, names and faces. But Liz never, ever, forgot an accessory. ‘That’s Nicola’s scarf!’ she gasped.
    ‘I can explain,’ he answered automatically, though he didn’t think he could.
    ‘You two-timing bastard.’
    She grabbed the offending neckwear as shespoke and yanked it for emphasis. Johnny’s neck jerked back, he choked and spluttered and she jumped back.
    ‘Petal?’ he squeaked, when he recovered his voice. ‘Who’s Nicola?’
    Tears sprang to Liz’s eyes. ‘You’re jerking me around,’ she cried. ‘In fact, I suspect you’re jerking both of us around.’ She began to wail.
    Johnny’s neck hurt. He felt nothing but pity for this woman standing over him and blubbering, and nothing but revulsion for himself. He was full of regret about the way he’d treated Nicola. Johnny felt a very alien sensation. He was starting to cry. His Adam’s apple strained against the scarf. He resolved to apologise to Liz. He’d ask her to untie him and beg her forgiveness. He wanted to change. He wanted to be good. Johnny B. Good. He opened his eyes—scarcely aware that he’d closed them.
    Liz was wiping her dripping nose on the back of her hand. A long trail of snot ran down from her nose over her mouth. Johnny smiled, intending to comfort her.
    Liz thought he was laughing at her. With ananguished cry, and still wiping at her nose, she turned and ran out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She burst onto the street and instantly hailed a cab, just before Nicola returned.
    It only occurred to Liz the next morning at work, when she was sneezing from the bubbles in her Berocca, that she’d left Johnny handcuffed to the table. He’d be so annoyed with her when he finally got out of there. On the other hand, he was a two-timing bastard. He deserved to suffer. She was so glad that she’d decided to tell Nicola everything. She couldn’t wait until seven o’clock.
    Da Mann had been planning on getting himself and his fingerprints out of the building hasto pronto when Nicola had returned, piquing his curiosity. She’d got quite a shock when she’d opened that door.
    That was when he came up with the idea of posing as a cop. He flipped through his wallet and found his security guard’s badge. That’d do.The scammage went off better than he could have anticipated. He could scarcely believe his luck. It never occurred to her that he was not really a policeman. She’d even agreed to meet him again, after work. He wondered how far he could go with Nicola, how far he could push her. Maybe he should show her the videos. The one of her first time with Johnny was a corker. They might even come to some arrangement. Da Mann didn’t want to remain a voyeur the rest of his life. He deserved some action.
    Whatever happened, Da Mann was confident he’d have a good time with Nicola. A very good time. She was dead sexy.

Other quality works by Linda Jaivin
MILES WALKER, YOU’RE DEAD
    ‘My name is Miles Walker. Remember it. I’m keen on immortality. I’ve got to be. I’m twenty-three years old. I’m the best painter of my generation. And I’ve got four hours to live.’
    On the