Read Online The China Dogs by Sam Masters - Free Book Online

into something cooler.
    Reluctantly, she trots through to the intercom by the front door and presses the button that opens the front lobby door.
    While he’s on his way up she sneaks a final check in the full-length hall mirror. The dress is so tight that wearing any underwear was impossible, unless she wanted to look like a patched up bicycle tire.
    There’s a polite knock on the apartment door.
    She pulls it open and is amazed to see a small Hispanic man in his late forties in tattered jeans and a blue shirt that is soaked under the armpits.
    â€œCab for Zoe Speed.”
    â€œI didn’t order a cab.” She can’t take her eyes off the driver’s sweat patches.
    â€œ Meester Ghost sent me.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œ Lieutenant Walton. Said to say sorry he couldn’t come in person but he’s running late.”
    She leaves the sweating cabbie on the doorstep while she collects her things and works out what kind of guy sends a car on a first date. Seems the night’s going to be full of surprises.
    Zoe swings a borrowed black purse over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready, let’s roll.”
    He leads her downstairs to a yellow car and plays jazz on the radio as he heads back into the city.
    She catches the driver’s eyes in the rearview. “Where exactly are we going?”
    He smiles back at her. “ Meester Ghost said you would ask.”
    â€œHey, what’s with this Ghost shit?”
    He looks up at her in his mirror. “That’s what everyone calls him.”
    â€œIt’s not very nice.”
    â€œHe don’t mind. He really nice.” He smiles widely so she can see his sign of approval for her date. “He said I should tell you you’re going to one of the best restaurants he knows.” His eyes twinkle. “I think you are in for a night you will remember.”
    â€œIs that right?” She can’t keep the irritation out of her voice.
    Two more jazz numbers play out before the cab pulls over in front of a tall sandy building that seems a cross between offices and apartments.
    The driver turns in his seat. “Apartment 4011—that’s the penthouse floor. The concierge will show you up.”
    â€œApartment?” She bends in her seat and cranes her neck to get a view of where she’s supposed to be going. “Shouldn’t you just take me to the restaurant where we’re having dinner?”
    â€œMeester Ghost said to bring you here.” He shrugs. “I just do what he say.”
    She gives up. “Okay. What do I owe you?”
    He shakes his head. “The fare’s already paid.”
    â€œThanks.” She gets out and flaps the door shut. A cool breeze billows across the sidewalk, and Miami’s lights twinkle in the city blackness. It ain’t New York, but she can feel the place has its own special energy and buzz.
    The lobby is filled with black and white marble and some big old terra-cotta pots sprouting palms. A courteous concierge in his sixties shows her to the elevator and swipes his security card over an electronic reader so she can get to the penthouse suites.
    Apartment 4011 is just a few doors down on the fortieth floor.
    She knocks on the rich oak door and waits.
    Ghost opens it. He’s dressed in an immaculately cut black dinner suit, complete with bow tie. Zoe notes it’s not the clip-on cheating type but the really difficult shit you have to fold and twist all by yourself.
    And he’s minus shades. He’s there in all his albino glory.
    â€œHi, come on in.”
    She stands there a second, in shock. “You look like James Fucking Bond.”
    He laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    â€œPlease do.”
    She’s still rooted as she studies his eyes. They’re amazing. Hypnotic. Fascinating. She wishes she had a camera to catch the meek milky irises and the threateningly deep pink pupils.
    â€œYou want dinner in the