Freja and Jeanie Ch. 04

Jeanie sighed and nodded. Her confidence, understandably, had been shaken of late. Since puking between the legs of a fat woman with methamphetamine up her butt, things had not exactly gone according to plan. They were supposed to be rolling around on piles of money right now, not feeling self-conscious about daring to appear in public.

"And you look beautiful, my love," Freja added, smiling at her lovingly. "I am proud to be your wife, to be seen with you, and to have you on my arm. To be on your arm. I am the luckiest girl in the room."

This made Jeanie smile and she nodded, feeling a little more herself now. They followed Mike and Karen, and were followed by Alex and Alexa, while Valentina dutifully brought up the rear. The host brought them to a booth large enough for them all, and Mike gestured for Freja and Jeanie to get inside, occupying the center of the semicircular couch. Alex and Alexa slipped in beside them on one side, while Valentina moved in on the other. Then Karen sat in, and Mike took the end seat. They had an excellent view of the stage, though they were off to one side.

"This place looks weird," Jeanie mused, glancing around. "Like, I dunno, it wasn't built to be a club, right?"

Karen nodded as she watched the jazz quartet playing a Lionel Hampton standard. "Nearly a hundred years ago, during Prohibition, it was where illegal alcohol was stored and sold. It used to be a speakeasy. No doubt raucous parties and music were the norm here."

"Li'l calmer today," Alexa added, watching the stage. Dominated by a large piano, the quartet still had plenty of room to do their thing. "And no doubt more of what we need right now."

"Indeed," Karen agreed as their server approached. They ordered their initial drinks, with the Freja and Jeanie refraining from ordering more than wine, just to help make sure they were on their best behaviour. This didn't stop Karen from ordering her habitual absinthe, however, nor Alexa her Bijou. Alex knew better than to ask for a Romulan Ale, so he followed his father's example and ordered Scotch. Jeanie noted that Valentina ordered mineral water. She queried as to why.

"Don't let these fool you," the petite woman said, subtly thumbing at her large chest, somehow contained in her blouse. "I'm no camel, and a total lightweight. One glass of hard alcohol and I'm dancing on the table naked. Best I just stay sober while I'm on duty, right?"

"You're a veritable model of propriety, Miss Prospero," Mike said easily, smirking at her and making the Italian girl blush and giggle. They all applauded as the quartet finished its current number and seemed to settle back for a small break. "Just be ready to do your share of wine testing once we hit the family wineries. It wouldn't do to have Tatyana thinking that we deprived you of any fun when we dragged you along, would it?"

"I wouldn't exactly say I was 'dragged', Master," Val replied, fingering her lace choker with the glittering stone on it. "Pretty sure you offered and I eagerly accepted."

"And left poor Trilby to look after Morg, Blurgle, and Grundle all by herself," Alex laughed. "She's gonna be so happy to see you when we get back."

"Hey now," Alexa protested to her nephew-husband. "My little Morgy is the bestest boy, thank you. He's no trouble for anybody."

"I doubt Andrea agrees after he puked a hairball down her cleavage," Alex countered. "She squealed so loud that I'm pretty sure Beethoven would've heard her."

"Alex, behave," Karen chided as her absinthe arrived. She held the glass up, checking the louche, and then nodded in satisfaction. Taste, of course, was the ultimate quality, but without a proper louche, there was no point in even tasting it, was there? Jeanie and Freja both watched her in quiet wonder, transfixed by the elegance and class Karen always managed to radiate in even the smallest things. It almost seemed... unfair.

"To be fair, I think Blurgle and Grundle are going to be a bigger source of trauma for her than Morgenmuffel," Mike pointed out, rattling the ice cubes around in his Lagavulin. "Trilby can get rather OCD about things."

"Why?" Jeanie asked, confused. "They're hermit crabs, in an enclosed space, how much trouble can they-"

Their conversation was interrupted by a crashing of piano keys, as if someone had slammed them angrily. Jeanie and Val both squeaked at the sudden noise, while the others looked up at the stage curiously, from whence the unwelcome clatter had originated.

Standing at the piano was a young Asian man in a tuxedo, his body rigid and trembling as he glared down at the table, specifically at two of its occupants. Jeanie and Freja both went pale as they locked eyes with him, sinking down in their seats.

"You..." the musician said, his voice somewhere between a growl and a hiss. The entire club seemed to be looking at him in confusion. This seemed like it shouldn't have been part of the performance. "How... how did you two find me, to curse my existence again?"

Somehow, he glared even harder, his body beginning to shake and a vein in his forehead visibly throbbing. Karen and Mike both noticed that Freja and Jeanie seemed paralyzed, as if fear was keeping them from acting or even breathing.

The bronze-haired woman glanced up at her husband, who tilted his head at the stage subtly. She nodded and stood, making her way out of the booth. Freja and Jeanie hadn't moved yet, still gaping up at the stage in panic.

Karen made her way up onto the platform, the jazz quartet all looking at her wide-eyed. She headed around the piano and stood beside the enraged young man. He was still glaring in fury down at the table she'd just come from. Clearly there was some history here that she didn't understand, but she also didn't care at this moment. She wasn't about to let her date with her husband get wrecked by the repercussions of one of Freja and Jeanie's dumb stunts.

"I trust you're actually more accomplished on that instrument than the last crash of notes would indicate," she said quietly but expectantly. His head snapped around to see who had the audacity to address him, but then his eyes bugged out of his head at the sight of the woman. She was tall, with shining bronze hair and piercing, bewitching golden-amber eyes. Her black cocktail dress was somehow elegant and almost scandalous all at once, mostly due to the size of her bust and the cleavage barely concealed by a black lace panel in front of it. He swallowed, suddenly losing any capacity for rational speech.

"I admit, I don't rightly know what is afoot here, but I do know that whatever it is, it's not about to mess up my evening out," she continued, speaking quietly. Her voice was enthralling. "So, to make up for this transgression, you can assist me by accompanying me with a song."

"But," he began, stammering now as he glanced back at the table, the source of his outrage, and then back at the woman now in his personal space and seemingly taking it over, no matter what he had to say on the matter. "But, but..."

"No," she said, interrupting him and holding up a finger. "Lips shut, it keeps the noises from coming out. Now sit."

Bewildered and not sure this was happening, the young man slowly sat down on his piano bench. Suddenly, he was acutely aware that the entire place was staring at him. What on earth had almost happened? What the Hell was happening now?

The woman picked up one of the songbooks sitting in a small receptacle beside the piano, opened and flipped through it casually. "Here we go."

She put the book in front of him on the piano's mantle, open to whatever song she'd picked, and pointed to it. "You can play that, yes?"

He looked at the selected song and then up at her in confusion. "Huwuh?"

"Can you or can't you?" she asked pointedly, her eyebrow raised. "I would hate to think we needed to get someone else up here who could."

The implied threat snapped him out of his state of bewilderment and he looked at the music again. "I... yes?"

"Excellent," she concluded, nodding before looking at the quartet. "Gentlemen, page forty-two, if you please. G major. I'll give you your cue."

They all prepared themselves hastily, ready to obey the woman who seemed to have averted a disaster none of them had a chance of understanding. Meanwhile, she had walked around the front of the piano. She popped the microphone out of its stand, toying with it idly for a moment. Leaning back casually against the Steinway, where the entire audience could see her, she clearly wasn't at all bothered by the scores of people looking at her.

Karen looked at her table for a moment and winked before glancing over at the quartet and nodding. They began playing their instruments slowly, while the young man started in on his part, his fingers moving over the keys while he looked at the music. Karen closed her eyes, and in a smooth, smouldering voice, she began to sing.

"Remember the blizzard, back in Manhattan

In eighteen-eighty-six

They say that traffic was tied up

And folks were in a fix

That's the story that went around

But here's the real lowdown,"

She looked over at her husband and smiled sensually. The quartet and the young man at the piano just kept playing, trying to match the stunning quality of her voice as she made gentle love to the microphone.

"Put the blame on Mame, boys

Put the blame on Mame

Mame gave a chump such an ice-cold "No"

For seven days they shoveled snow

So you can put the blame on Mame, boys

Put the blame on Mame,"

Everyone listened raptly as she sang, the silver fittings and white stones on her cocktail dress and jewelry glittering in the stage lights.

"Dayum," Jeanie breathed, watching the stage. "That is so unfair."

"I know what you mean," Alexa agreed, nodding and watching her older sister. "I grew up my whole life idolizing that woman, and when I finally meet her, she's not one iota less than I built her up to be. Unfair doesn't begin to describe it."

Jeanie thought it was weird hearing Lexi, of all people, make a statement like that. She was the most dazzling girl on campus, and everyone knew it. She thought about what Freja had told her about Lexi's upbringing in Europe. Raised by her mother Miranda, whom Freja had met and adored, Alexa had led a very different life from her older sister- much freer and independent, but it was given her with the expectation that she would always be her best self. And since she grew up idolizing her older sister, who was the most beautiful, talented, and graceful woman she knew of, she drove herself hard.

So maybe it had felt unfair to Lexi, even if it made no sense to Jeanie. She and Karen were the same in most ways to her- brilliant, gifted goddesses whom she just happened to be privileged to know and count as friends for whatever reason. She turned her attention back to the stage, where the instrumental interlude had ended, and Karen was singing again.

"They once had a shootin' up in the Klondike

When they got Dan McGrew

Folks were putting the blame on

The lady known as Lou

That's the story that went around

But here's the real lowdown,"

She leaned up from the piano and strolled slowly and casually at the front of the stage, knowing that the people watching were ogling her long legs as they peeked out from the slits in her skirt. She enjoyed it, and kept singing, especially since her husband was watching.

"Put the blame on Mame, boys

Put the blame on Mame

Mame did a dance called the hoochy-coo

That's the thing that slew McGrew

So you can put the blame on Mame, boys

Put the blame on Mame,"

She gave a slow twirl and ended up deftly lifting herself and sitting on the edge of the piano, crossing one leg over the other as she smirked at the audience below her.

"When they had the earthquake in San Francisco

Back in nineteen-six

They said that Mother Nature

Was up to her old tricks

That's the story that went around

But here's the real lowdown,

Everyone seemed transported, listening intently. Ever the club's staff were all standing still watching in wonder. Where had she come from?

Put the blame on Mome, boys

Put the blame on Mame

One night she started to shim and shake

That brought on the Frisco quake

So you can put the blame on Mame, boys

Put the blame on Mame..."

As the people began applauding, Karen slipped down from the piano and bowed, sighing and smiling. The members of the jazz quartet all rose and applauded as well. She bowed to them modestly before replacing the microphone in its stand and walking around the piano to stand in front of the young man, who was sitting still and gaping up at her.

"There, that wasn't so bad now, was it? We managed to keep you from being ejected from the place," she posited, standing over him and smirking, her arms folded across her breasts. "Now be a good boy and finish your set without further incident, and then come and join us at our table. Proceed."

With that, she turned and sauntered down the stairs and rejoined her table. The young man stared dumbly for a few more moments before looking at the quartet and nodding to them. They promptly resumed the original set for the evening.

"Good job, Gilda," Mike said as he stood and took Karen's hands in his as she approached. "Thirty years and you sound as magnificent as ever."

"Thank you, husband-mine," she sighed, looking up at him with shining eyes. "I simply wish to enchant you."

"Mission accomplished, Gordon," he confirmed, nodding as she slipped by him and resumed sitting. Moments later, they were approached by a man who was no doubt the manager, and he nodded to her, obviously greatly pleased.

"I had no idea we were hosting a professional tonight," he said to Karen, nodding. "Thank you for that lovely performance."

"Oh, well, thank you," she replied, blushing appropriately. "But I'm no professional. Just looking to make sure the evening stayed on track."

"Yes, what was that about?" the man said, frowning and turning to look at the man behind the piano. But he was too busy working his way through the set to notice.

"No matter, good sir, it has been seen to," Karen said. "Maybe after dinner, I'll go up again, if you're willing."

"Oh, absolutely!" he exclaimed, nodding eagerly, instantly forgetting about the incident with the pianist. "Please, folks, enjoy your evening at Cinnamond!"

After he'd made his exit, Mike looked down at his wife and put his arm around her. "Think you can hold down the fort while I look into and after something?"

"It will be torture, but I shall do my best," she cooed, letting him kiss her cheek before he stood and strode away. The people remaining at the table just listened to the music being played now, the notes seeming to float on the air. "That young man is very good. Superb, in fact."

She now turned in her seat and looked directly at Freja and Jeanie, seated next to her, her expression suspicious. "So... anything you two want to tell me?"

Swallowing hard, the two girls resisted the urge to sink further down into the plush cushion, both swallowing. "We... might have been having interactions with him a few nights ago," Freja finally confessed.

Karen seemed skeptical. "That explains why he looked like he wanted to kill you. You didn't think to mention this earlier?"

"To be fair, Lady Prof, you kinda told me to just stick to the relevant facts about our l'il disastrophe down here," Jeanie pointed out. "The crisis with him, that's a whole separate thing."

"Okay, that one is on me, then," Karen sighed, nodding. "In any event, I told him to join us when he finished. So you two be on your best behaviour, understand?"

They were both pale, but they nodded. Clearly death this evening was still a possibility. It was rather worrisome to them both that Karen had stopped asking questions. Alex and Alexa also patently said nothing on the issue, just enjoying their drinks and the appetizers that were served. Jeanie sipped her drink nervously while Freja powered through her shrimp cocktail. She was a stress eater, after all.

"My employment is certainly never boring," Val mused, sipping her fizzy water, and Alexa giggled. Freja shot her friend a look, but the blonde goddess seemed to not notice.

Guess we have this coming, Freja sighed to herself. We really fucked up this guy's night, after all. I just hope he's not too hard on Jeanette. Although, he did seem to want to kill us. Do I need to defend her? No, Alex is here, and I doubt Karen or Alexa would let him do anything like that at the table. I wish Mike was back here, just to be sure. Wow, these shrimp are really good. I wonder if Karen'll let me order anot-

Her inner monologue was interrupted by applause and she blinked and looked out. The quartet and the pianist were all standing and taking their bows. As the quartet left for their quick break and music began playing over the speakers, the young Asian man looked over at them, as if trying to decide what to do.

Clearly he had no desire whatsoever to get closer to Freja and Jeanie, but he'd been given instructions, after all. It didn't matter who you were, you didn't say no to Karen DeBourne. He wrestled with his impulses, finally hanging his head and slouched his shoulders as he sighed in defeat.

Freja and Jeanie held each other's hand tight under the table as the man stepped down from the stage and walked over. Karen nodded and gestured to a chair she'd handily placed on the outside of the table. He took it, sitting somewhat uneasily, but then his gaze came to rest on Freja and Jeanie again, hardening instantly.

They could hear his jaw grinding, and his skin flushed in fury.

"So, Mr. Kim," Karen began, observing him, her chin resting on the back of her fingers. "Thank you for joining us."

The young man blinked and looked at her in surprise, as did Freja and Jeanie. "How... how did you know my name?" he asked.

"Your fault for leaving your business card on the piano where it could be seen and read," Karen replied.

He seemed to blush. "Uh... yeah, I guess. Good point."

"So why don't you tell us how you know Freja and Jeanie?" Karen said, gesturing to the two girls.

Here we go... Jeanie quailed inwardly, sinking down in her seat as his eye settled on her again, beginning to blaze angrily.

This had not been a good trip so far.

***

Later that night...

"Can't believe we made it outta that place alive," Jeanie murmured to Freja as they walked along at the back of the small pack. "I mean, what're the odds we were gonna run into him again, the one guy in all of California who actually wants us dead?"

"Maybe this is karma," Freja sighed, shaking her head, although she agreed with her wife. "Maybe we should not do the throwing of our panties so often, ja?"

The brunette scowled. "Who wouldn't want panties thrown at them for a job well done? People are stupid."

"Still, he was a very good pianist, was he not?" the Danish girl mused. "If Karen, she was willing to sing with him, he must have been very good."

"She seemed t'think he's about as good as her or Professor Hulk, so that's sayin' something," Jeanie allowed. "But why's he along for the ride now?"

They both looked at the young musician as in front of them as he walked with Alex and Alexa, speaking with them. Even he seemed rather confused about why he was being dragged around, but Karen had made it abundantly clear that if he expected to be compensated in some manner for his hardships, then he was going to accompany them for the next few days and be good about it. He frankly had nothing better to do, since he'd been blacklisted from playing anywhere in the state, apparently, after the fiasco at the club in L.A.. He was obviously lucky news hadn't reached little Napa yet, as all his other gigs had been cancelled.