Michele Bravo Playing With Fire Chapter 21

I.

Jan Janasz and Adams were in the living room, relaxing with drinks. When Michele entered the room they rose.

“I hung up your fat suit to dry,” said Janasz, quickly. He couldn’t keep his eyes from glancing at her now…looking so different now that she had shed the appearance of over a hundred pounds. Her hair was still wet and lay closely against her skull, reveal a wonderful bone structure.

“Thank you,” said Michele, smiling.

“How is Mr. Largo?”

“He’s fine. I know first aid, I checked him out. He’s got a headache, nothing more.”

“I’m terribly sorry…”

Michele waved a hand. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s not a concern. Now, we’re on for the cocktail party tonight, right? You’ve invited your entire company?”

“Yes, and they’ve been briefed. But will Mr. Largo…?”

“He’ll be there, don’t worry. And if he decides to leave the party early because of his headache…well, the party will continue on, as arranged. Everyone will stay in character and do what they were supposed to be doing. They’ll play for my benefit, if nothing else. Either way, though, it will end at midnight, as per our script.”

Jan nodded. “Very well. You’re the boss.”

“Now, I’ll be back in character, in my fatsuit, tonight, and you’re not to discuss my lack of fatness to your company. Not that I would think the subject would ever come up, but if it does…I’m large and in charge, okay?”

Jan nodded. “Of course. The subject won’t even come up.”

“Thank you. Well, I’m going back up to tend to Mr. Largo. I’ll be back to retrieve the suit in a couple of hours.”


II.

Adams poured himself another drink, and looked at Janasz.

“Does anything strike you as unusual about this situation, Jan?” he asked.

Jan was still working on his first drink. He waved a hand. “Oh, unusual. They are Americans, after all. And she’s apparently as rich as Croesus…if she likes to walk around in a fat suit to stay in character…well, she’s just a dedicated actress.”

Adams shook his head. “Rich people…you really have to wonder…is it the money that makes them go all doolally, or what?”

“Something in the ink, I shouldn’t wonder,” said Jan.

III.

Michele returned to her bedroom. Gus Keller was lying on the bed, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his belly. His eyes were closed. He looked like a sleeping Adonis. Well…his face didn’t have quite the classical handsomeness of an Adonis, but his features weren’t that bad, and his body was nothing to sneeze at, either. His blue swimming trunks set off his tan nicely.

His eyes opened, even though she had closed the door quite quietly. He started to sit up. She strode quickly to the bed, leant over it and gently pressed him backward.

“No need to get up,” she said. “Rest for a couple of hours. I need you at your best tonight.”

She had kneeled on the bed as she’d pressed him back down, now he took her hand and stared into her eyes, searchingly.

She looked at him, puzzled. “What’s the matter?”

“You saved my life. I’m just wondering what you’d do if I kissed you.”

Michele stared at him, feeling rather surprised. But hell, why not? She bent down, and cupping his face with one hand, kissed him on the lips.

It felt good that she remained with her hand cupping his face, kissing him deeper and deeper.

Finally she broke away, laughing a little, surprised at how much she had enjoyed it.

“Okay, Keller, there was your kiss. Now, take a nap, please.”

“I won’t be able to nap if…”

“I’m leaving.”

Michele went to her suitcase, and from a secret pocket pulled out a swimsuit. Heck, she thought to herself as she headed down the stairs once more. She had two hours where she could be herself. She was going to go for a nice, long swim. Perhaps try her hand at the high diving board. Just let herself go.