The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Seventeen
The Honey Snake
DeMarco had made his way to Bon
Bon’s side. She was always intrigued
by the man in the mask. She had liked his attention the other day
when he had given her the coin, even if it had been Victor’s
money
to start with. She still liked it when they made her feel like a
lady.
She slinked into her chair, placing the book upon her
lap.
“Tell me, my moonflower,” DeMarco whispered,
“how
can you be so beautiful and so smart at the same time, almost cunning,
actually. Dangerously cunning. You are like a snake, a viper, but
there is no poison in your bite. I tell you, you are too sweet for
venom. No…you only have honey in your bite. Have I ever told
you
that, my precious?”
Bon Bon gave him a faint smile.
“Si,
you have senor. Tres. Three times. You have told me I am a
viper
with honey three times today.” She lifted a finger to his
chin and
traced his jawline. “But, can-you-keep-a-secret? A lady never
gets
tired of compliments.”
“Ah,” DeMarco replied “then
be sure I shall never tire of lavishing them on such a beauty as
yourself.”
Bon Bon pursed her lips into a kiss, blowing one
in his direction. The Spaniard gestured as if catching the endearment
sent his way and covered his mouth with his hand, smacking his lips
and returning a kiss back to the Cuban vixen.
“Later, my love.” he promised as he moved away upon
Victor’s approach.
As the
Latin lover turned away he ran straight into Wood, megaphone up and
ready.
“I hate to interrupt this precious Hallmark moment,
but we do need to be working on some thoughts here on how to get Depp
to release us. Now might I suggest putting a hold on the hanky-panky
and throw out some ideas for Mr. Rainey. He is still having a bit of
a writer’s block and needs a little help.”
DeMarco gently
pushed the megaphone aside so to face Wood eye to eye.
“I
will do my best,” he promised the director.”But in
the meantime,
may I make a suggestion?”
Wood brought the megaphone back
to his mouth. “Certainly. Suggestions always
welcomed.” He said
with a fat grin.
But before the Don could share his thoughts,
Wood’s megaphone was snatched from his hands, thrown to the
floor,
and stamped to smithereens.
Wood and DeMarco looked down at
the damage, then back up to the assailant.
“Now that was
not sportsmanlike,” the man in pink angora complained.
“That
wasn’t sportsmanlike at all.”