I must admit I felt a bit flush from her sexy little routine. She was very good; very provocative, even in flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers.

“I don’t know that I would make a very good body guard. I’m not really much of a fighter. I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be of much use to you.”

“Amber already told me you’re a lover…does that mean you’re not a fighter?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh, come on; a big strong guy like you?” She pouted her lips, “You probably wouldn’t have to do much of anything. You’d be there more for show than anything. I’ve never had a problem that required a fight.”

I felt the guilt of accepting her generosity without having any real value to offer in return. Reluctantly I opened the door to the possibility, “What would I have to do?”

“You’d be my protection, lover.” She raised her eyebrows, as Sarah had done, as she stood and took my face into her hands, “Oh my god, your blushing…you shy thing.” She smiled a genuine smile, “After all those dirty things you said to Amber I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so shy.” I could see that she was taking great pleasure in my embarrassment.

“She told you huh?”

“I must confess, not only did she tell me…but she was at my house once…and she let me listen in on one of your conversations.

And you do have a sexy voice!” she slapped the back of my hand, “and a dirty mind.”

“What would I have to do exactly?” “Well,” she pulled a small antique looking wooden chair with a plush blue cushion up across from me and sat down across from me, “you’d have to carry a little gun… just in case,” I rolled my eyes, “but I’ve never been to a party where anyone has had to use it…ever!” Her eyes opened wide, “And you’d just have to make sure nobody gets out of hand…no touching unless I let them… and since I won’t have any clothes on…you would have to hold the money.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad.” I could hear the apprehension in my own voice. I had gone from respected investment banker to pimp in a single leap. “How far the mighty have fallen.”

I said dejectedly.

“You get ten percent of the profits. I usually make a couple thousand a night, Friday and Saturday nights when I’m booked solid.” She was trying to figure out the math in her head.

“Two hundred dollars or so a night?” “Yeah.”

“What happened to your last body guard?”

“He’s in jail.”

“What for?” I said, not a little alarmed. “Nothing to do with me.” She laughed,

“He sold drugs on the side. He did security for me because he was able to move a lot of coke at the parties. But he got busted and he’s going to be gone for at least five years. Anyway, it had nothing to do with my security.”

“What about Sarah? Who would watch her?”

“I’ll get her a sitter.” “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s cool…” her expression went from happy back to pleading, “only I need to know soon because I have three parties booked for tonight.” She whined.

“Can I have ten minutes?”

“Sure…ten minutes…oh yeah…and there is a perk that goes with the job.” She waited until I raised my eyebrows expectantly, “You get to drive my Monte Carlo…and…you get to see me naked.” She gave me a seductive look before breaking into a giggle.

“But you’ll be all hairy!”

“Just a little patch right her.” She said matter-of-factly as she lowered her pajama bottoms just enough to show me a postage- stamp sized swath of pubic hair at the top of her mound. I felt my face blush bright red once again. I was no a prude but I was easily embarrassed.

* * *

As I drove Melanie to the first of three bachelor parties I fidgeted nervously moving my hand about the steering wheel and changing the radio station. My new job made me nervous. When I was a boy it was my father who gave me my first job. He didn’t so much give it to me as force it upon me. He was an electrician and I was made to accompany him on his weekend side-jobs to do the odd things such as retrieve tools and to pull the plastic covered wire through the holes he had drilled. I hated that job, mostly because he forced me to do it and because I had to spend time with him (he was an abusive unrepentant alcoholic and he never let pass an opportunity to remind me of how worthless I was). At that moment I wished I were back with my father pulling wire.

The only real physical encounter I had ever been involved in, play-fighting aside, had been my fight with Tony Artino and I had never actually landed a single blow. I had never fired a pistol, or any other sort of firearm for that matter, in my life. Melanie sat in the back seat of her Monte Carlo applying last minute touches to her makeup. She chattered on incoherently about a blue dress that she saw in a storefront window and about clothes and about Amber, but I was too nervous and distracted to pay attention so I just nodded and sounded off the occasional “hmmm” to feign interest. It was getting dark outside, which made me a little uncomfortable, but I knew that Melanie would be at my side the whole time so I knew that my phobia would not be an issue. If she only knew that she had chosen someone who was afraid of the dark to be her body guard I don’t think she would have been so chatty!

Amber, of all people, had agreed to watch Sarah so that I could play security guard. “And no touching.” She playfully warned me (referring to Melanie) before she kissed me passionately and patted my behind, sending me off with my loaded pistol to guard her Beautiful friend. She had given her detective the slip again, this time by paying a valet to drive her car to the opposite side of the mall and wait for her as she passed from one entrance to another on the opposite side. The detective was left to chase her on foot for twenty yards or so before realizing the futility of his efforts. She was a clever girl, but how long could she keep it up?

We arrived at the job, a large hotel in downtown Wichita. A valet parked our car and we took an elevator up to the room. I held a small portable stereo in one hand and a satchel of costume attire in the other. When we arrived at the room I knocked and asked to speak to Jeremy, the organizer of the event. Jeremy was a tall neatly dressed twenty-something with a trimmed black beard and a bony face. He handed me a wad of money which I counted out to be six hundred dollars and then I looked at him with a firm smile.

“Rules.” I said. “Rules?”

“No touching unless she initiates it.” “Okay.”

“If she says stop, then they remove their hands.”

“Okay.”

“If anyone gets rowdy you calm them down or we leave; no refund.”

“Okay.”

“I will stay in the room at all times.” “Okay.”

Jeremy walked us into the suite to a host of youthful whistles and cheers. The room was crowded with well dressed young men holding cans of beer and glasses filled with mixed drinks. I ushered Melanie into the bedroom and folded my arms and guarded the door from outside.

“Would you like a drink man?” A fair-haired gangly pock-faced boy in blue-jeans and a white dress shirt held out a can of beer.

“No.” I said stoically, trying to portray a tough façade despite the fact that I could have very well used a tall scotch on ice to calm my nerves. I felt absolutely ridiculous, like the third cog on a motorcycle or a chaperone at a prom. As I saw it those boys were frothing at the mouth fantasizing about what they wanted to do to little Melanie and I was the unqualified guardian of her precious body. I stood stone- faced until Melanie came out of the room. She was dressed in a tight black leather bodice, black fish-net stockings and black stiletto heals. I plugged the boom box into a receptacle near the front door and I watched as Melanie slowly stripped to Joe Cocker’s rendition of “You can leave your hat ”; I watched as the young men shifted in their seats and awkwardly covered their laps in vein attempts to hide their arousal. Melanie stripped the groom down to his underwear and planted him on an armless chair in the middle of the room and gave him a lap- dance. Afterwards Melanie gave a few more lap dances at twenty dollars apiece and then she went back into the bedroom and changed into her street clothes and we left.