Read Online Poor Little Bitch Girl by Jackie Collins - Free Book Online Page A

shitting me?” Frankie said, left eye twitching, a sure sign he was disturbed.
    “Now who would shit the king of the bullshitters?” Bobby said, laughing.
    “You bet your ass we know,” M.J. added.
    “We were kind of waiting to see how long it took before you summoned up the balls to tell us,” Bobby said, winking at M.J.
    “Jeez!” Frankie grumbled. “I didn’t expect it to be public knowledge.”
    “It’s not,” Bobby said. “But girls got big mouths, and now that word is around you’d better be way careful.”
    “Careful?” Frankie said, his left eye still twitching. “Like why?”
    “Like you could get your ass arrested for pandering,” M.J. offered.
    “What the fuck is pandering?” Frankie snapped.
    “Selling pussy,” M.J. said.
    “We’re not selling anything,” Frankie insisted. “We’re arranging meetings between two consenting adults.”
    “And pocketing a commission, right?” Bobby said.
    “That’s pandering,” M.J. pointed out.
    “Well, shit, nobody can prove anything,” Frankie said, getting defensive. “It’s a cash-only business, no credit cards, no paper trails. We’re not dumb.”
    “That sounds very organized, only don’t ask me to come bail you out when you make it all the way to the front page of the New York Post ,” Bobby warned. “You’ve made enough bucks to buy yourself a Ferrari, so my advice would be to get out while you can.”
    “Are you fuckin’ crazy ?” Frankie said, eyebrows shooting up. “This is the sweetest deal ever. It’s a no-hassle, no break-your-balls walk in the park.”
    “Yeah, an’ you’re gonna walk your way right into a jail cell,” M.J. interjected. “C’mon, man, you’re a freakin’ pimp. That kinda shit’s against the law.”
    “Since when did you turn into Mister D.A.?” Frankie snarled, not pleased with the way this was going. He’d expected compliments, not criticism.
    “Hey,” M.J. muttered. “It’s your deal, it’s sure as shit not mine.”
    “I’m taking a walk,” Frankie said, abruptly rising from the table. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
    “That went well,” Bobby said dryly, as soon as Frankie was out of sight.
    “Frankie’s an asshole,” M.J. remarked. “We both know it, so how come we hang with him?”
    “’Cause he’s our asshole,” Bobby said, forever loyal. “And that means we gotta look out for him.”
    “Gettin’ him off coke would be a start,” M.J. said. “Then maybe he’d start takin’ things more seriously. This sellin’ pussy deal is a big mistake.”
    “You know Frankie – there’s no way he’d listen,” Bobby stated.
    “Then how about Annabelle?” M.J. suggested. “Maybe we should talk to her.”
    “Oh, c’ mon . Annabelle? Are you kidding me? She’s worse than Frankie,” Bobby said. “And when it comes to our boy, in her eyes he can do no wrong. You know that.”
    Tree headed back to their table, balancing various dishes. She glanced around for Frankie, and was disappointed to see he was gone.
    “Where’s your friend?” she asked boldly, placing the plates of food on the table.
    “I wouldn’t sweat it,” M.J. said. “He’ll be back.”
    Tree hesitated for a moment. “Can I ask you guys something?” she said, lowering her voice.
    “Go ahead,” Bobby said, digging into his steak.
    “Well . . . it’s just that working here I get a lot of horny guys coming on to me. Y’know how it is. They’re in town without their wives or girlfriends, and it’s like open season on waitresses.”
    “What do you wanna know?” M.J. asked, hungrily picking up French fries with his fingers.
    “Well . . . uh . . . can your friend really help me, or is he handing me a line?”
    “You’re a smart girl,” Bobby said. “Figure it out.”
    Tree managed a disappointed look. “So he’s full of it?” she said.
    “Depends on what you expect from him.”
    “Okay, thanks,” Tree said hesitantly. “Then I guess I can trust him.”
    Trust him to do what?