Ask Alice Ch. 03

"There ain't no movie," Alice announced. "Just a couple of pervs that like pissing on girls."

The women in the waiting area got up at once and they all marched out, all except one who kept her seat. A couple of the exiting women made disparaging comments about Dizzy's pencil dick. Alice looked at the chick still seated ... guess some people will do just about anything for stardom, even getting pissed on. Alice shook her head as she walked out.

Out on Hollywood Boulevard, she turned right. Every inch of her tingled, her hands and feet throbbed in time with her beating heart, her head spun like she had had too much to drink. She didn't know how long this would last and couldn't chance going all the way home. She considered finding a public bathroom with a mirror but felt that this would only work if she were alone. There was a hotel she used as a hooker on a side street up ahead so she headed in that direction. She hoped that room thirty-seven was available because it had a huge dressing mirror on one wall. She made a right onto the side street.

So intent on getting to the hotel, Alice didn't notice the black limo pulling ahead of her and stopping. Seconds later, she smacked into some jerk too slow or stupid to get out of her way. She made to step around him but the jerk grabbed her left upper arm stopping her short. Ready to give the asshole the riot act, she looked up and nearly screamed when she saw that it was Marco Delamo, Lester Byson's finger busting limo driver. She yanked her arm free and turned to run in the opposite direction only to smash into Nelson who grabbed her by the upper arms. This time she DID scream then thrashed, and yelled out for help. The few people on the side street paid no heed, she was just another hooker having a dispute with her pimp in their eyes.

"Shut up or Nelson will break your nose," Marco said.

She stopped yelling and struggling.

"Shouldn't have placed that bet," Nelson said.

Marco calmly opened the door of the limo and Nelson stuffed her into the back seat.

The Roman Hotel and Casino: October, 1983

"How do you do it?" Nelson asked.

"Magic." Alice said as she tapped at the keys in front of the dinosaur computer monitor screen. "Now get out."

Nelson gave her an evil look. He didn't like it when she ordered him around like that. Alice didn't care. Nelson was more bark than bite. He had been mean to her on their first meeting, but ultimately, the guy was all bluster, showing off for the people around him. Not much different from Honolulu Nelson two mirrors ago. And when it came to Alice, the dude was a fucking marsh mellow anyway. It helped that she was fucking him on the sly. Byson had made Nelson her personal bodyguard, in other words, her warden. The only time she was left alone was when she went to bed. Surprisingly, Byson had let her keep her VIP room. But she had to eat all her meals at the hotel now, no more going out on the town. She was under house arrest.

Could be worse, she thought as she recalled her return home to the Roman Hotel.

Marco had driven them back to Vegas. Her eyes kept going to the rear view most the way. Tears slid down her cheeks as she felt her hard earned freaky energy ebb away with every passing mile . The feeling was totally gone by the time they left the L.A. City limits. A profound exhaustion swept over her and she slept all the way to Palm Springs where they spent the night. The next day they drove all the way nonstop to Vegas. Alice slept most the way over. At the Casino, they marched her sleepy body up to Lester Byson's office. They sat her in the same chair that Rich Navarro had occupied when he had his fingers broken. She was wide awake now.

They're gonna break some of her bones too, she thought. The practical side of her said, they needed you to use your hands so they'll probably break all her toes instead.

She heard Byson say hello to the receptionist in the outer office. Not gonna beg or cry, she thought with all the steel she could muster. But her courage flew out the window at Byson's entry and she started crying. Her new plan was to throw herself at Byson's feet and beg him not to hurt her to badly.

He walked right up to her. "Stand," Byson said firmly.

With wobbly leg, she did.

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her face with his cold piggy eyes, his expression like stone. Byson was an even six feet and just fat and wide.

"Welcome home," he said warmly.

Is he fucking with me? She thought as he kissed each of her cheeks. Is this a gangster thing? Do they kiss you first before they torture you? She didn't recall anyone kissed Navarro?

"I told Marco that you were a delicate little flower and makin' you watch what we did to the fucking card cheat would upset you. It did right?" Byson asked holding her trembling chin in his hand.

Wide eyed and shaking, she nodded emphatically.

Byson looked at Marco and said, "Told you, delicate little flower."

Marco clearly didn't like being scolded in front of everyone. His eyes found hers and she knew that she had just made a dangerous enemy for life.

"You look like shit," Byson told her. "Get cleaned up and get to work. You have catching up to do."

Her mind snapped back to the present for Nelson hadn't left yet and was still talking.

"Why won't you let anyone stay in the room when you do your football predictions?" Nelson asked as he lingered near the door. He clearly wanted to have sex but she was in no mood and wanted him to leave.

"Girl needs to keep her secrets," Alice said still looking at the computer screen as she pointed at the door.

Nelson gave a dissatisfied grunt and left Alice's plush hotel room.

The moment the door clicked shut, she got up and secured the door chain. If he came back to check on her, the chain would stop him, giving her ample warning to pretend to work on the computer. If Byson ever found out that she could TRULY predict the future, she'd be locked up even tighter. The thought of spending the rest of her life in her Vegas gilded cage depressed her. She she had grown weary of living in 1983 and missed the accoutrements of 2014. She missed her smart phone, she missed the internet, missed movies on demand and binge watching The Walking Dead. She missed a world where smoking was considered stupid and rude. She missed reliable food labels, micro breweries, cheep descent wines and Costco.

She still found it hard to believe that she had stepped into 1983 through a stupid mirror ... just like that other Alice in that old book that she tried reading several times in her life but never made it beyond the first couple of chapters ... that reminded her of ANOTHER thing she missed from 2014... e-books and her Kindle Fire.

Whenever her head got rolling like this, a disturbing thought would overwhelm her. I'm fucking crazy, totally lolo and sitting in some padded cell in a Kaneohe mental hospital. She looked around at her posh hotel digs and sighed. If she really were insane, this probably beat the hell out of a psych ward. She looked at the state of the art clunky, 27" TV the size of a Mini Cooper on its stand near her bed. "I miss flat screen TV and HD too," she said adding to her list.

A knock came at her door.

"Nelson, go away," she grumbled.

She looked at her modified Lisa to make sure that a pointless graphic was up on the screen for looks. She gather all her notes on her predictions in a neat stack, shoved them in a manila folder and put them next to the computer keys. For good measure, she scattered a couple of random sheets full of figures about to make it look like she had been working with the computer. She looked through the peephole and her chest tightened, it wasn't Nelson, it saw Marco.

He was always around lately, always in the background ... always watching, just waiting for her to fuck up. Her heart raced as she opened the door.

Marco smiled at her as he stepped into the room without invitation. He held his limo driver's hat under his right arm, making him look stiff and formal. It made her wonder if the guy had served in the military. He had a couple of inches on her, which wasn't saying much since Alice was just shy of five feet tall. He did fill his driver's uniform solidly though, the guy was an intimidating wall of muscle ... and she had to admit, he had a handsome dark face. One of the other employees told her that Marco was Greek, another said Italian, and yet another said Lebanese. To Alice, he looked Filipino with a touch of Hawaiian.

"Does Lester need me for something?" Alice asked doing her best not to sound freaked out.

"I've come to pick up the football predictions," he said as he walked over to Alice's desk to look at the papers scattered their.

"Won't be ready until tomorrow morning," she automatically lied. In reality, it had taken her all of five minutes to recall the winners and losers for this week and she had compiled her list days ago.

"Complicated stuff computers are," Marco said. An accent danced at the edge of each of his words, it was clear that he worked hard at covering it up for some reason.

"Yeah," she said, "I use a couple of different programs to make my—"

"You do no such thing," he said cutting her off.

His comment took her off guard. After a blunt pause with her heart doing triple time, Alice asked, "What do you mean?"

"You don't use this computer at all do you?"

"I-I do," she said trying to sound calm, but couldn't hide the shake in her voice.

"You use it to type up and print your lists for Lester," he said as he picked up a loose piece of paper and held it close to his face, "but no more that that." He dropped the paper on the bed and turned to look at her with a smile that she would have found sweet if she hadn't know the kind of sadistic brute he was. A knot formed in her stomach, the room spun a bit and sat down heavily on her bed.

Keep your mouth shut, she thought near panic. He's fishing and fucking with my head. She thought of the card cheat Navarro and she sat on her hands to hide her fingers.

Marco sat down in the office chair in front of the computer and spun to face her. "I'm going to let you in on a secret about me. I'm from Hawaii too, just like you. My dad was Hawaiian-Portuguese and my mom Filipino."

She gave him a surprised look for she had been right about his heritage after all. The accent he worked at suppressing was local Hawaiian pidgin she guessed.

"Hard fo' believe no?" he said in smooth pidgin English proving her point.

In spite of her fear of the guy, she managed a smile at his homey accent.

He dropped the accent and continued on. "I went to Honolulu University. Majored in communications. Graduated in '77."

She had graduated with the exact same degree from Honolulu University too ... in 2011.

"Computers were just kicking in," he said. "It was all word processing back then. I kept up with the technology over the years though. I like computers." He turned in the office chair and brushed his fingers lovingly over the computer key board. "You like your Lisa?"

She nodded.

"Me too, best on the market," he said. "When you're out, I come to see how it works. Your modifications are puzzling though."

Her jaw dropped but she swallowed her indignation at the invasion of her privacy. How much right to privacy one should expect working for the mob? Not much.

"I like to see how hard you're working," he said. He looked at her gauging her reaction. His eyes sparkled, he was clearly enjoying making her squirm. "There is no history of what you are doing anywhere on the computer," he continued.

"I clear my history," she said. Although she wasn't sure if such a thing was possible to do on her 1983 Apple. "Don't want anyone to know my secrets," she added using the same line she had with Nelson. She managed to keep her voice from sputtering, but she knew that Marco could smell her fear, like blood in water with a shark.

"Clever of you," he said, "You're very good, I see no trace of anything. In fact it's TOO clean. Which makes me think that you don't use the computer at all." She opened her mouth to contradict him but he held up a hand to stop her from speaking. "I don't give a shit how you do your job," he said. "And you are clearly doing it. This is what I do for Lester ... I make sure that everyone is doing their jobs at the best of their abilities."

After a few seconds of quiet, she dared to ask, "Have you told Byson?"

He gave her a warm smile. "This is between you and me," he said. "Lester gets what he wants from you. No reason to muddy those waters."

She nodded with nervous relief. Lester Byson was a disgusting pig, but he was easy to deal with because he was all about the money, and as long as Alice made him money, she was safe.

"Bet you're wondering why I'm really here?" he asked. She didn't respond so he continued on. "You will make two lists from now on, one for me, one for Lester. Understood?"

She nodded, almost relieved that this was just about money.

Marco sat staring at her for a long time. She waited for him to ask how she picked her football winners. She desperately though of something plausible to tell him, other than being a time traveling refugee from the year 2014 or that she got here by stepping through a mirror. But to her surprise, the conversation went in a totally different direction.

"In Los Angeles, I asked around about you," he said. You were busy: Working at strip clubs and auditioning for erotic movies. You were a hooker for a little while too ... interesting. It made me think of how you behaved just before you ran off. You were quite promiscuous and slept around a lot."

"I do crazy things when I'm under stress," she said sheepishly. And why the fuck would he care about that .... Unless? Did he want to fuck her? If that's what he wanted, she could live with that. Like with Nelson, she might gain some control over him ... she hoped.

Marco put his feet up on her desk and played with his hat as he spoke. "I find that women who sleep around are tend to be broken. Case and point, Pansy Dale. You know Pansy?"

Alice nodded. Pansy was the maid for the VIP floor. She was one of those picturesque redheads and in Alice's time, she'd could be a Victoria Secret model. Pansy had a reputation of doing ANYTHING that was asked of her. From what Alice had heard, the woman seemed to have no self respect whatsoever. She had seen Pansy wandering the VIP halls on a number of occasions with her maid's uniform disheveled after having a toss with one (or more) of Byson's special clients. Alice wanted to say that she was nothing like Pansy, but kept quiet, she didn't dare contradict Marco.

"None of my business who you fuck," he said with a knowing smile. Then he gave her a hard look. "But maybe it is? You may be damaged but not in the same way as Pansy I think. Your sex with the staff and some of the guests seems oddly organized to me. The same thing in L.A.. From what I've gleamed, you seem to be ..." he paused, tapped his chin with his hat and pondered. Finally he found the words, " ... looking for something." He gave her a quizzical look. "What are you looking for Alice?"

"Love," she lied. She remained as calm as she could but she was close to freaked out at how close he was coming to figuring her out.

Marco laughed. "Looking for Love? Aren't we all?" He dropped his feet from her desk and stood. "I'm going down the hall to room ten thirty seven to see to a group of men. They are special clients dear to Lester." He put on his cap and adjusted it nice and neat, then gave it a tiny tilt to the right. A random line from an old musical she had seen on Netflix back in 2014 filled her mind ... a hat ain't a hat unless it's tilted.

"Wait five minutes, then I want you to get naked and walked down to the room to meet the clients," He said.

That snapped her head back to the moment. "Walk naked in the halls?" she asked, shocked at his crazy request.

"Yes," he said.

"Not Gonna happen," she said going from shocked to pissed. "Go tell Lester I don't use the computers! He won't give a shit! Either way I make him tons of money. And I bet he won't want his BEST money maker parading on the VIP floor buck ass naked!"

His smile disappeared and he gave her the cold eye.

She did her best to return it, steeled by the fact that Byson blamed Marco for her running her off back in July, she dared to say, "I bet Lester is unhappy that I was gone for the opening of the football season. He missed placing bets for all of September and part of October. What you think? He might have missed out on millions maybe? All because SOMEBODY scared off his delicate little flower."

"I paid a visit to Dizzy and Hambone," Marco said, stone faced. "They told me some interesting things about you."

"Fucking liars," she said automatically. "I thought I was trying out for a part in a horror film. The guys were creeps and losers"

His smiled returned. "It wasn't hard to repair the movie you destroyed ... Frankenstein In Lust, catchy title. You put on quite a performance. The double facial early on is worth the price of admission." He snickered. "Delicate little flower ... indeed."

"Fuck you," she whispered.

His smile grew bigger. "I gave Lester a copy, he's been whacks off to it nightly I think. It was HIS idea that you entertain his clients. Lester said that poor Pansy Dale could use some backup. Showing up naked was my idea of course." He tipped his hat and left the room.

She stood there trembling with panic and rage. Glumly, she forced herself to calm down. She stood to face her large dressing mirror. As was her habit, she tentatively reach out to touch the glass to see if it was solid, and it was. Seeing no way out of her current mess, she stripped off her clothes. Looking in the mirror again, she arranged her shiny, long dark hair and gazed at her tiny a-cup breasts, and then her eyes dropped to the neat jet black patch of pubic hair adorning the space between her pale smooth thighs. She turned to the side to check out her curvy ass. She arranged her hair so that it draped over the shoulder closest to the mirror. All modesty aside, she was a very beautiful Japanese girl. Then it happened, her fingers and toes started to tingle. Quickly, she touched the mirror again, it was still solid but it felt very cold. That might have been her imagination but there was no mistaking the building sensation in her body.

With her heart racing, she pulled open the door and stepped out in the hall. A group of men on their way down to the casino, came marching by her. They stared at her naked body, one whistled and another said, "That Byson sure knows how to throw a party!" All the men guffawed as they continued on their way. A door close to her room opened up and Pansy Dale, the VIP floor's maid and favorite boy toy, step out of a room with a wad of bedding. Pansy froze and locked eyes with naked Alice.

Alice's face warmed with shame. I'm not like you, she wanted to say. I do this for a reason. As if to remind her, the tingling in her hands and feet increased.

A couple of men stepped out of a room further down behind Pansy and headed in Alice's direction. These guys didn't laugh or speak, they just stared at Alice's nudity with surprised expressions. Like a dirty sponge, she soaked in their collective gaze, the sexual heat flowed through her, crawling up her spine and filling her head with that odd familiar pressure. She held the men's gaze as they walked passed her. She turned back to look at Pansy again but the woman had vanished, probably stepped back into the room she was cleaning.

"Not like you," Alice reiterated in a sub vocal whisper as she continued on to room 1037.

The plush carpet beneath her bare feet tickled adding a sensual shiver to every step. Standing just outside room1037 were Nelson and another of Byson's men whose name she couldn't remember. The men's eyes widened as she approached.