Here is the first few paragraphs of the story I started a while ago. I'll probably add more pieces to the Website. But for now here is the first paragraph to get things started.
The Silver Delmar - Trouble in Town
Black hair, thirty-whatever, and a double breasted pin-stripe suit cut broad across the shoulders. Arms folded, he leaned against the wall of the smoke hazed Silver Delmar. Good looking, fairly smart and should have been doing a lot better with life in general, but hell its all about choices.
The money wasn't great, but he had flexibility. Kept odd hours and he had a shot at some of the hottest women in town, not because he was a high roller, it was because he wasn't. For a lot of the dolls it meant something different.
Yeah Jimmie Durell was cool . . . he just didn't know how to parlay that into the big time. So he hovered between the winners and the losers. On various days he could be either.
More of the story . . . .
"Hey Jimmie, they're sizzlin tonight man." It was Scottie Cosentino, the tux clad matre de, also young, but too eager to catch the kind of women he wanted.
Jimmie nodded and smiled with a quick nod of the head.
"Yeah Scottie they're cook'n." Half shouting over the band, "you seen Leena?"
"Nah she ain't made it in yet."
Between lighting a cigarette Durell tilted his head with a quick kick back. "Thanks, let me know if . . . "
"Jimmie . . . what?" Surpised his idol would think he could read his mind, "She comes, in I tell ya."
Cosentino walked on acknowledging the elite he seated every night. The place was jam packed. If you were anybody . . . you were at the Silver Delmar. That's why Frank, 'The Hammer' Rosentelli was there, he was somebody. Somebody you did not want to screw with.
Frank was responsible for moving more money through the back alleys and illigitimate games around the city than anybody else. It was at least 10G's a week. If he liked you life was great, if he didn't things could be less pleasant. Jimmie knew he would have to get involved with Frank and his boys in order to deliver.
Why on Earth did he take the job? Not the danger, not the money. It was the girl. It seemed doable at the time, but now seeing Frank confidently puffing away on the cigar, slapping his lieutenants on the back and looking untouchable, well it seemed more insane at the moment.
More of the story . . .
It had been almost three days since Candy was last seen and her roommate - the lovely Leena was worried. There sat Frank laughing it up with hot and cold running bimbos. It was a led pipe cinch he either knew what the hell happened or who had perpetrated what Jimmie hoped to God hadn't happened.
"Hey Jimmie, take a gander at your 10 o'clock va-va-voom." Scottie's white glove tapped Durell on the back.
There she was. Hour-glass figure, legs like chisled DaVinci marble and brunette hair that cascaded over her bare shoulders. She was part dream, part real. Leena had raised the tease to an art form. She could catch their eye and set the hook, then dole out a subtly increasing amount of attention. She would be interested, they just didn't know how far her interest would go.
Leena was a pot tha was always just about to boil. Men poured mney over her because of the hint of what she might, if they dropped enough, let them enjoy. It was a living breathing example of the proverbial carrot dangling in front of the horse. The horse just mistakenly believed it was getting closer to the prize.
Leena glimpsed Jimmie through all the reverie. She slid through the suits and dresses over to the wall until they were shoulder to shoulder. Most men had the drool effect at least for a split second when near her. Conversely, Durell was a master of the sexual poker face even confronted with alluring beauty and hypnotic perfume. He just shrugged and tilted his head gently agaisnt the wall.
She spoke, "Thanks for coming Jimmie."
More of the story . . .
"Hell its either be seen out with a beautiful brunette or spend the night making my regular deposit in the first national bank of bad blackjack hands. I think I'll take you over a green felt table and an overweight pit boss every night of the week."
She smiled and then looked over to see if the Hammer delegation had noticed her current rondevouz. They were engrossed in their own power play world.
"Look do you have anything on Candy?" she asked.
Durell slowly blow out a funnel of smoke. "Leena do you have any idea how quietly I have to ask around given the fine upstanding citizens of this town?"
"Yeah Jimmie that's why I'm paying you, are you starting to lose you nerve?"
He glanced right into her big brown eyes which were in contrast of her china white skin and soft pink lipstick. "You bet Leena, that's why I agreed to meet you in the middle of the shark festival we call the Delmar . . . you know just hang out with "the Hammer" and 300 of our closest friends."
"Okay, I'm worried, I just want to make sure you were still man enough." This was a normal sampling of the lines that would beign the tease routine. Too obvious for Durell to bite, no challenge, no fun.
The band wound up with a flourish as the crowd cheered their last 5 minutes of musical magic. The band really was incredible. The air inside the Delmar definately had something - besides a lot of smoke. As the applause died down some of the dancers milled back to their seats. Johnny Ray's Orchestra gently sequed into a seductive Moonlight Serenade.
"Leena let's dance, it'll look better." Sure it would look better for Jimmie not to mention feel better. Pros know when to seize the moment. Before she had a chance to think, he reached behind his back and took her hand. It was soft clad in the black satin glove. Jimmie guieded her onto the dance floor in the flow of other couples moving forward.
"You see, just another beautiful dolled up couple on the floor. Slow song, slow dance, lost in the crowd." She smiled in response.
Now facing him Leena moved closer in his arms. She was able to go with the moment as was obvious from her hand as it slid around waste and across his back. He held her close so they could talk quietly on the crowed floor. A suspended mirror ball illuminated by a spot light slowly spun artifical stars around the front of the club.
He whispered in her ear. "I've got to ask. You are a woman who I would not exactly charitable. So why are you willing to foot the bill for the location and/or return of Candy? After all she is just a your room-mate or is there more than that?"
"Wishful fantasy on your part I'm sure."
"That's true, it is an intriging picture, it also doesn't answer my question."
"Blunt aren't you," she quiped.
"Yes, and you are paying me by the hour so go ahead and talk as long as you like." He pulled her closer as they swept around the floor.
More of the story to come . . .
Copyright Tim Pfohl 2006
If I were smart I'd get off my butt and write "Scissors Off the Wall" and publish it as a business book similar to "Who Moved My Cheese."
In 1998 I wrote a true story about a special moment with Hopie the Cat. She is gone now, but the story lives on. You can check it out by clicking:
I've also written some fiction that I'll post one day. I have the first chapter of a novel started to write . . . it is called the Silver Delmar about Las Vegas in the 50's and a hot chick at a sizzling cool night club who has people around her disappearing. She hires the PI to "look around" and he starts asking the wrong questions to the wrong people. Well you get the picture. That will be coming in the next few weeks.