him fine. The best part was, after only six months of seeingher, Connie and her husband had moved to France. And he’d gotten to keep the condo. Not bad for six months of his time.
Some people might say he was shallow, but at least he wasn’t the one breaking any vows. And he did have to worry about jealous husbands coming after him if his trysts with their wives were ever discovered. So there was a certain amount of risk to pleasing women like Connie. Why not get paid for his efforts?
And as for those who said he was shallow, yeah, he specifically sought out women who looked like they were made of money, and maybe he even gave them some hard luck stories to entice them to part with their husbands’ well-earned bucks—but didn’t women look for sugar-daddies all the time? No doubt his mother had. Surely what was good for the goose was good for the gander.
But accepting lavish gifts from women without any remorse had pretty much been the extent of Cecil’s under-handed ways. Until he’d met Eddie. After hitting it off at the bar and learning that they were both smooth-talking playboys, Eddie had griped that he wasn’t able to adequately maintain the lifestyle to which he’d become accustomed because women were tighter with their wallets these days—didn’t Cecil agree? Hell yeah, Cecil agreed. That’s when Eddie had told Cecil about his sure-fire plan to make mega dollars. In fact, Eddie had already been doing it for a while. Things had been going so well that he now needed a partner to help him keep up with the demand.
The plan, as Eddie had explained it to Cecil, was easy. Steal expensive jewelry from their well-to-do lovers and replace them with fakes. For several months, Eddie had been working with a guy who was an expert at makingstunning fake jewelry based on the real pieces. Eddie had assured Cecil that he’d been doing it for a while without any problems and had made a fortune.
Well, Cecil was always open to new ideas, so he’d figured, why not give it a try? Again, he’d thought fate must have brought him and Eddie together. Why else meet Eddie at a time when he needed a new way to earn quick money?
He and Eddie had shook on it, agreeing to be partners.
Shortly after that, Cecil had met Tamara at the Delano on South Beach, a spot frequented by those with money to burn. The thirty-five-year-old bombshell had been immediately receptive to his charm. Cecil had struck up a conversation with her not only because she was stunning, but because she’d been wearing beautiful jewelry. Cecil had complimented her on it, and she’d proudly proclaimed that the diamonds and sapphires were real.
Tamara hadn’t waited more than five minutes before telling him how unhappily married she was—so Cecil had bought her a drink to help her drown her sorrows. Then another. Soon, she was throwing herself at him like a wanton hussy. Again, Cecil had complimented her jewelry. Tamara then bragged that she had a safe full of expensive jewelry at home—compliments of her ancient, impotent husband.
Because she’d given him a sly grin, Cecil had laughed, and so had Tamara. “Well, he’s not exactly impotent,” Tamara had amended. “But viagara ain’t exactly helping Lionel’s problem, if you hear what I’m saying.”
“I hear you,” Cecil said, chuckling. “Okay, so he’s not quite impotent. But he’s really ancient?”
Tamara laughed long and loud like an idiot, clearly drunk. “Oh, yeah. He’s ancient.”
“How old is he?”
“Eighty-one.”
“Wow.” Cecil blew out a low whistle. “That’s old.”
“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Tamara rested a hand on the stunning diamond and sapphire necklace gracing her long, slim neck. Then she flashed Cecil another sly grin—which told him she’d known exactly what she’d been thinking when she married Lionel.
“How long you been married?” Cecil asked.
“Seven years. Since I was twenty-eight.”
“Holy.”
Tamara speared the
Some people might say he was shallow, but at least he wasn’t the one breaking any vows. And he did have to worry about jealous husbands coming after him if his trysts with their wives were ever discovered. So there was a certain amount of risk to pleasing women like Connie. Why not get paid for his efforts?
And as for those who said he was shallow, yeah, he specifically sought out women who looked like they were made of money, and maybe he even gave them some hard luck stories to entice them to part with their husbands’ well-earned bucks—but didn’t women look for sugar-daddies all the time? No doubt his mother had. Surely what was good for the goose was good for the gander.
But accepting lavish gifts from women without any remorse had pretty much been the extent of Cecil’s under-handed ways. Until he’d met Eddie. After hitting it off at the bar and learning that they were both smooth-talking playboys, Eddie had griped that he wasn’t able to adequately maintain the lifestyle to which he’d become accustomed because women were tighter with their wallets these days—didn’t Cecil agree? Hell yeah, Cecil agreed. That’s when Eddie had told Cecil about his sure-fire plan to make mega dollars. In fact, Eddie had already been doing it for a while. Things had been going so well that he now needed a partner to help him keep up with the demand.
The plan, as Eddie had explained it to Cecil, was easy. Steal expensive jewelry from their well-to-do lovers and replace them with fakes. For several months, Eddie had been working with a guy who was an expert at makingstunning fake jewelry based on the real pieces. Eddie had assured Cecil that he’d been doing it for a while without any problems and had made a fortune.
Well, Cecil was always open to new ideas, so he’d figured, why not give it a try? Again, he’d thought fate must have brought him and Eddie together. Why else meet Eddie at a time when he needed a new way to earn quick money?
He and Eddie had shook on it, agreeing to be partners.
Shortly after that, Cecil had met Tamara at the Delano on South Beach, a spot frequented by those with money to burn. The thirty-five-year-old bombshell had been immediately receptive to his charm. Cecil had struck up a conversation with her not only because she was stunning, but because she’d been wearing beautiful jewelry. Cecil had complimented her on it, and she’d proudly proclaimed that the diamonds and sapphires were real.
Tamara hadn’t waited more than five minutes before telling him how unhappily married she was—so Cecil had bought her a drink to help her drown her sorrows. Then another. Soon, she was throwing herself at him like a wanton hussy. Again, Cecil had complimented her jewelry. Tamara then bragged that she had a safe full of expensive jewelry at home—compliments of her ancient, impotent husband.
Because she’d given him a sly grin, Cecil had laughed, and so had Tamara. “Well, he’s not exactly impotent,” Tamara had amended. “But viagara ain’t exactly helping Lionel’s problem, if you hear what I’m saying.”
“I hear you,” Cecil said, chuckling. “Okay, so he’s not quite impotent. But he’s really ancient?”
Tamara laughed long and loud like an idiot, clearly drunk. “Oh, yeah. He’s ancient.”
“How old is he?”
“Eighty-one.”
“Wow.” Cecil blew out a low whistle. “That’s old.”
“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Tamara rested a hand on the stunning diamond and sapphire necklace gracing her long, slim neck. Then she flashed Cecil another sly grin—which told him she’d known exactly what she’d been thinking when she married Lionel.
“How long you been married?” Cecil asked.
“Seven years. Since I was twenty-eight.”
“Holy.”
Tamara speared the
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