The atmosphere around The W Hotel was chaotic. The entrance to The Wall Night Club inside the hotel was already roped off to control the crowd of overly tanned men and exotic women that wrapped around the corner.
“The lot is full!” the valet shouted in a heavy Spanish accent while frantically waving a flashlight. “Keep it moving!” His uniform was drenched in sweat from the humid 85-degree Miami heat.
A symphony of horns echoed off the nearby buildings as the line of expensive cars began to back up down Collins Boulevard, blocking the intersection. “No hay espacio,” he shouted at a belligerent man driving by in a black Maserati. “Don’t you understand English?. Rich assholes,” he said under his breath.
Suddenly, a red Ferrari came speeding down the street against traffic toward the entrance. It cut in front of the line, barely missing the valet and came to a screeching halt.
“What the hell are you doing, puta?” the valet yelled. “You could’ve killed me!”
The tinted window slowly lowered and a familiar deep voice boomed from inside the car.
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead, mi amigo,” Malcolm laughed.
“Mr. Tremell, is that you?” the valet smiled while reaching for the door handle. “Long time no see!”
“Glad to be back, Hector.”
Malcolm stepped out of the Ferrari and gave him a brotherly hug. At six-four, he towered over the much shorter valet. His fitted short-sleeve shirt accentuated his muscular chest and arms. As he slipped on his white linen jacket, the women waiting in the long line for the club abruptly stopped complaining to take in the view.
“Um-um-um,” one woman moaned loud enough for him to hear.
“So, are you moving back in with us?” Hector asked.
“No, I’m just staying overnight. I got a place at that new high-rise off Ocean Drive,” Malcolm said. “Do me a favor and park my car out front. I’m meeting the movers first thing in the morning.”
“Of course, you know we always have a space for you,” Hector said, lifting the trunk. “So, where have you been all these months? The ladies still ask about you.”
“Let’s just say I’ve been on hiatus,” Malcolm laughed.
“I’ll have your bags sent right up,” Hector said. “Will you be needing your usual table at the club? The manager will be glad to see you again.”
“No, not tonight, I’m beat. I just got off an eight-hour flight from London.”
“Well, I hope you’re not too tired; Miss Smith checked in about an hour ago.”
“Miss Smith, huh? Well, in that case, have room service send up an order of sushi and a bottle of Riesling to Miss Smith’s suite.” Malcolm discreetly slipped him a one-hundred-dollar bill. “It looks like the party’s here tonight.”
“Yes, sir. Looks like it!”
They shook hands and Malcolm made his way through the crowded hotel lobby, stopping along the way to shake hands with the bouncers and other hotel staff he had come to know over the years.
As he approached the elevator doors, there were two beautiful women wearing bikinis and wraps waiting to go up. Their demeanor was elegant. One of them was Caribbean with flawless dark brown skin and short natural hair. The other was unmistakably Cuban, with long blonde hair, light brown eyes, and full hips. Malcolm casually admired the perfectly round breasts that were bulging out of their tight tops.
The Caribbean woman was holding a drink that was half empty. The night must just be getting started for them, too, Malcolm was thinking. When the elevator doors opened, he politely held the door while they filed in.
“After you, ladies.”
“Why, thank you,” the Caribbean woman said with a flirtatious smile.
The Cuban woman pushed the button for the tenth floor. Malcolm and the Caribbean woman he was admiring pushed the penthouse level at the same time, brushing against each other’s hands.
“I hope you’re not stalking me, Mr.—?”
“Tremell, Malcolm Tremell. And what man could resist stalking such exquisite prey?”
“Well, you know what they say in my country.”
“What’s that?”
“What happens in Jamaica, stays in Jamaica,” she replied while moving closer to him.
“Just in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in South Beach.”
“Use your imagination, Mon!” She smiled seductively. “My name is Marie, and this is my friend Jo Anna.”
“Ladies, the pleasure is all mine.”
Just then, the elevator doors opened onto the tenth floor. Jo Anna kissed Marie on the cheek and stepped off. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do better!” she laughed.
Just as the elevator doors were closing, a large hand reached through the crack and the doors sprung back open. A tall, burly man clumsily stepped in. His eyes were glassy and he reeked of alcohol. He stood directly in front of the doors until they closed, then he looked over his shoulder condescendingly at Marie.
“Boy, this place is crawling with Kaffirs,” he slurred in a South African accent. “It’s hotter than an African jungle in here!”
“For your information, I’m Jamaican, not African, you idiot!”
“What’s the difference?”
“If I wasn’t a lady I would show you the difference!”
“Well, come on little lady.” He leaned toward her with his chin out and closed his eyes. “Give me your best shot!”
Malcolm slowly guided Marie behind him, then tapped him on the forehead.
“Hey, Adolf! Why don’t you go sleep it off?”
The man opened his eyes and grabbed Malcolm by the collar. “And what are you gonna do, Kaffir lover?” Then he took a swing.
Malcolm ducked and hit him with an uppercut, then three rapid punches to his stomach, the last punch lifting him off his feet and into the elevator wall. He was out cold! Malcolm held him up straight with one arm while looking over his shoulder at Marie.
“Is it just me, or are there more assholes than usual on South Beach this summer?” Malcolm said sarcastically.
When the elevator door opened onto the penthouse level, a bellman was waiting with an empty baggage cart.
“Mr. Tremell, everything ok?”
“Everything is fine; he just had one too many Red Stripes.”
Malcolm laid him down on the baggage cart and stuffed a twenty-dollar bill into the bellman’s pocket. “Tell Hector to put him in a taxi and have him dropped off in Liberty City!”
“Yes, sir!” he laughed to himself. He knew Liberty City was a mostly black area of Miami.
Malcolm offered Marie his hand and escorted her off the elevator. She stepped over the unconscious man’s legs, which were dangling off the cart, and followed Malcolm down the hallway. They stopped in front of room 2018.
“Well, Mr. Tremell, you really know how to show a girl a good time!” She put her arms around his neck. “Is there any way I can repay you for rescuing this damsel in distress?”
“I wish I had time, but—”
“But, what?” She moved in toward him and kissed him on the lips.
“But, I had a long flight and I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, so—,” he grabbed her arms and pulled them from around his neck. “This will have to be goodnight!”
He pulled away and began walking backwards. He paused in front of room 2020 waiting for her to go inside.
“Please tell me you’re not gay!”
“Far from it. Good night, Marie!”
“I’ll be damned, of all the nights to meet a fuckin’ gentleman!”
Then she went inside her room, slamming the door shut.
Miss Smith’s room was two doors down in suite 2020. Malcolm walked up to the door and put his ear close to it. He could hear the song “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye playing from inside the room. The aroma of scented candles crept through the gap at the bottom of the door. This is definitely the right room, he said to himself. Knock, knock! He tapped lightly on the door and covered the peephole with his hand.
“Who is it?” a soft, sexy voice apprehensively inquired.
“It’s the Maintenance Man. You need service?”
“Only if you can unstop this wet drain.” She laughed.
As the door slowly opened, a nude and voluptuous figure stepped behind the door and waved him inside.
“It’s been a long time, Malcolm,” she said as the door closed behind him. “Now, get undressed!”
She walked toward the bedroom, grabbing a glass of champagne off the table on her way. She was completely naked except for the black Manolo Blahnik boots she was wearing and a diamond rope belly chain. She was in her mid-forties, but she had the body of a woman in her early twenties.
“Andrea, you haven’t changed one bit, still straight to the point,” Malcolm said while taking off his jacket. “Or should I call you Miss Smith?”
“You can call me anything you like,” she yelled from the bedroom, “just get that tight ass in this bed. I’ve been waiting for nearly a year to get some of that sweet meat!”
“Slow down, you’ll get what you paid for!” He walked past her and into the bathroom and started to undress. “Speaking of tight asses, your ass is looking better than ever!”
“Pilates five days a week and thirty-thousand dollars in cosmetic surgery will tighten up anybody’s ass,” she laughed, walking up behind him. She admired herself in the mirror as she pressed her breasts against his back and began grabbing at his buttons. “I hope you’re rested because I’m horny as hell.”
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
“You expecting company?” Andrea asked.
“It’s probably just room service. I ordered sushi!”
When Malcolm opened the door, Marie was standing in the hallway wearing a lacy black bra and panties set and holding a tray with the sushi and wine on it.
“Surprise! How’s this for room service?”
“How did you—?”
“You’d be surprised how far a nice set of legs can get you,” she interrupted.
“Marie, I am busy right now, I can’t—”
“I just wanted to show my appreciation.” She barged past him to set the tray down on the table. “So, do you have two glasses so we can toast?”
“I’ve got three!” Andrea said as she walked out of the bedroom, still naked, holding three wine glasses and a bottle opener. She grabbed the bottle from Andrea’s hand and started to open it. “Malcolm, when you said you were ordering sushi, I thought you meant raw fish!”
“Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed!” Marie said, looking stunned. “I had no idea.”
“Relax, my dear,” Andrea said, just as she popped the cork. “I think we could all use a drink.”
She calmly poured three glasses of wine and sat down on the sofa holding her glass.
“Well, I didn’t fly all the way from New York for nothing.” Andrea seductively opened her legs revealing her cleanly shaven vagina. “So if you’re staying young lady, I’ll need half.”
“Half of what?” Marie asked
“Half of ten-thousand dollars. This man doesn’t come cheap!”
“Malcolm, what is she talking about?”
“I think this may be a little out of your range!” Malcolm said sarcastically.
He grabbed her by the arm and ushered her toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, Marie jerked loose and shoved him against the wall.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!”
She playfully ran back into the room and sat next to Andrea on the sofa. She lifted her wine glass with one hand while caressing Andrea’s inner thigh with the other. Then they kissed.
“So, how does this work?” she said as they tapped glasses. “Do you take credit cards, checks, or cash?”
“Cash only!” Malcolm said as he pulled off his pants. “Now, this is what I call a homecoming!”
