Three, Two, One (321)

We’re behind. End of story. And since money means nothing to him—or us, really. I could give a shit about losing out on this week’s money—there’s gotta be something else in mind for this summons.

He always does this when we fall behind. And he never deals with us together. It’s always, Come see me, Ark. And then we make a deal and on my way out, he says, Send JD over tomorrow.

JD never tells me what he does for Ray and I never tell him what I do, either. But I know. I mean, it’s simple deduction. I run the cameras, so that’s what Ray usually wants from me. And JD gets his dick sucked by wannabe porn stars. And that’s usually what Ray wants from JD. Acting.

I make him a movie. JD acts in one.

That’s how we break even with Ray.

So I’m expecting that today when I pull into the private security garage of Ray’s lifestyle club. Don’t let the fancy name fool you. While I’m sure there are plenty of sex clubs doing legal business, Ray’s is not one of them. In fact, this club in LoDo is not even open for membership. It’s an ancillary business to the ranch, which is located up in the mountains. This club here is just a place for friends of the ranch to have sex during the workweek. We keep the online stuff on the up and up because the Feds are all over that shit. But this little local stuff is all about greasing the right palms. You can take a lot more risks.

Oh, and he makes porn in the building next door. He’s got production going five days a week.

Sex. It sells like a motherfucker.

The security waves me through as the gates open and I drive around the twisty entrance ramp until I get to the top level of the garage. I park in a spot that says PFA—Public Fuck America—and don’t bother locking the door.

The rain is still coming down, but this top level is like a carport and has a roof, so I take my time walking to the elevators. I punch in my code when I get there, and the doors open for me.

I punch in my access code to Ray’s office, one floor below, and the doors close.

A few seconds later they open again into what looks like an elegant living room. But Ray doesn’t live here. I actually do not know where he lives, but it’s not here.

“Hey, Ark,” Silvie says from behind the bar. “Wanna drink before I tell him you’re here?”

“Ah, no, thanks, Silvie. I’m good.” I smile at her. She’s been Ray’s better half for as long as I’ve known him. I’m not sure what their relationship really consists of, seeing as how she looks to be my age—twenty-seven or so—and Ray is easily in his forties. But whatever floats her boat. She’s always friendly, always smiling, and never had a bad day in front of me for as long as I can remember.

“OK, then go right in. He’s expecting you.”

I give her a little salute and head to the back of the room where two ten-foot-tall double doors made of hardwood stand guard between me and the boss.

I knock first, just to let him know I’m coming in. I don’t have to, but you never know when the guy’s gonna have a girl on her knees and I’d rather not surprise him.

He’s at his desk, his eyeglasses that he only uses to read financial statements perched on the bridge of his nose.

I mutter, “Fuck,” under my breath. Because that means I’m gonna get a lecture about ‘the bottom line’ today.

“Ark,” he says in that stern fatherly voice he’s always used on me. His hair is not gray—I’m not sure if he dyes it or what, but it’s a rich medium brown. And his build is still solid and trim, just like he was twenty years younger. I guess that’s what Silvie sees in him. But you know, the guy’s a porn mogul so… “I’m not happy about your latest failure to provide.”

I have to stop the eye roll. “Ray,” I say, taking a seat in one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. “The last time we failed to provide was a year and a half ago.”

“I know, Ark. But it took me months to recover from that. It’s still fresh.”

Such bullshit. But if this is his angle, I can play. “How can I make it up to you then? Hmm?” I just want to cut this short. I know that JD is screwing that girl at home right now and I’d like to get back there before he marks her with piss and my chances of keeping her for myself are blown out of the water.

And then Ray does what he usually does when he knows he’s gonna get what he wants from someone. He steeples his fingertips under his chin and leans forward. “I have a movie.”

“When do you need me and what kind of shots will it require? Location or studio?”

He smiles. Like big. And that’s when I know he doesn’t want me to run the cameras. “I have a cameraman, Ark. I need an actor.”

“OK, so call JD.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t want JD. They want you.”

“Who?” What the fuck is this?

“A couple from the ranch. They want to make a sex tape and they want you to join in. They saw you a few weeks ago and the wife thought you were exactly her type.”

“Well, you better let her know she’s mistaken, Ray. I’m not participating in any movies.”

He smiles again.

Fuck. “What?”

“I told them you’d say that. So they said they don’t need cameras. Just a…” He struggles for the word. I’m about to fill in the blank with whore, when Ray says, “Date.”

What the fuck is this? “No. I don’t do dates and I don’t do guys.”