She perches on the edge of the bar stool, all glamour and shine in her silver sheet, her maxi breasts sloshing through its sequined top. The bartender pacified by her over-tipping, shuts his eyes on the illicit presence of this classy hooker shooting restless glances towards the entrance. He wouldn’t mind if her prey was him; this bouncy redhead knows how to make a man happy. He gives Magda a peek: ‘why not exchange bonuses, his tolerance against her good grace?’
“May I offer you a refill on the house, Miss?” He nears her, a bottle of Cristal on the ready. She proffers her glass pushing her goodies under his nose.
’He is thinning on top, otherwise he is not too bad and she needs his goodwill. Why spend good money on what you can get for free?’
“Are you waiting for someone, Miss?”
“Yes and no, maybe you can fill me in.” She takes the photo out from her pocketbook.
“Do you know this man?”
He takes the snapshot from her hand and holds it close to his eyes.
’Balding and shortsighted, nightlife ages fast,’ she states offering him a promising smile.
“Quite by chance I do, Miss. He comes here from time to time, alone, drinks a Jack Daniels on the rocks and goes up to his room. If you wish I can find out his number. My shift ends in an half an hour, may I invite you for a drink?”
“Why not?” She accepts hesitantly.
’-Don’t bang an opening door shut, don’t be sorry later-,’ is one of the principles of her life-wise mama.
He waits for her by the exit, quite attractive in his skinny jeans, red T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He takes her firmly in his arms; his kiss is deep, and the touch of his fingers close-fitting.
’She should keep her head, she is on a job,’ she reminds herself.
“What about skipping the night club and go to my place, sweetie, my Mustang is around the corner,” he offers engagingly fondling her breasts. She hesitates. ‘She can always do with a good sex and this guy knows what a girl likes. On the other hand she should think twice before jumping, considering his job it would be a pure miracle if he was clean.’
“I don’t know; I should take a cab and go to bed - mine!”
“I can deposit you to your place, no problem: after! Come on, beautiful, you won’t regret it. I am hot!”
Somehow she knows that he sees right through her; as for sex she hasn’t been spoilt lately, not for regretting it after is another matter.’
A car stops abruptly, a door opens from inside, an arm drags her in.
“How can you cheapen yourself with a waiter, Magda?”
“Don’t be such a snob, Eli! A waiter can come in handy in my kind of job. A propos he knows the client in question and can get me in touch with him. He could have simply thrown me out for hustling: as isn’t this what you make me to do? A propos how come you are here? It looks like spying!”
“Shame on you, Magda, how can you think I’d do anything that lowly? I wanted to assure myself you are all right as Cannes is teeming with Mafia scum.”
“Is that so, Eli? Thanks for your concern. Wouldn’t it be then better to take the first flight for Paris, exchange a goodbye kiss at the airport and let me care about myself in the future?”
“Do you really wish it, Magda? Can you afford to live in a hotel? You can’t count on free accommodation if you stop working for Alex. And renting a flat, even a garret in a decent part of Paris is high over your head. Be realistic, my dear. Your only means to live beyond your means is to sell your charms to the needy customers Alex provides you with. I warn you, sweetie, don’t cut off your nose to spite your face. Now let’s call it a day and go to bed: separately!” He says stonily, opens the car door for her and strides away, his face a mask of denial.