Jeanine pulled a solid gold cigarette case and lighter out of her small clutch purse. She set the purse down on the desk in front of her, and pulled a cigarette out of the case. Her long slender fingers clutching the smoke as she brought it up to her full, luscious lips, painted a bright red with lipstick. With her mocha colored complexion, long, straight black hair, and eyes so dark brown to almost be black, she made a striking figure. Add the custom made red dress that hugged her ample but subtle features, she was a woman that haunted men’s dreams.
She put the lighter up to the end of the cigarette and lit it, smiling at the discomfort of the man sitting across from him.
“Baby,” she said, her voice rich and full of melody, “If you’re worried about your health, you came to the wrong place.”
The man shifted nervously in his seat, glancing back at the two men flanking the door. They were large, muscled, and had a look to them that said they were just waiting for someone to test them.
“I know,” he said, “It’s not a problem.”
Jeanine flashed him a smile that had an edge to it. The pearl white teeth of one side of her mouth barely showing.
“It wouldn’t matter if it was,” she said, leaning back in the chair, “Now would it?”
The man shook his head.
“Now,” she said, taking a drag of her cigarette, “You understand what you’re getting into here?”
“Of course,” the man said, nodding, “It’s been explained.”
Jeanine studied the man, shaking her head slowly.
“No,” she said, “You really don’t. They never do, they never really believe.”
“I’m telling you,” the man replied, getting anxious, “I understand, and I’m willing.”
“This isn’t something to enter in lightly,” she said, sighing a little, “For something like this, I’m going to require a lot, and you’ll pay for it. You always pay for it.”
“He took everything,” the man said, rubbing his pants legs with his hands, “Everything. It doesn’t matter the cost. I’ll pay it willing.”
Jeanine pursed her lips and stared at the man. Finally she looked up at one of the men guarding the door.
“Prepare the room,” she said, “We’ll be there in a minute.”
The guard nodded and left the room. Jeanine rested the elbow of the arm holding the cigarette on the arm of the chair. She rubbed the end of the filter with her thumb absently, thinking, not looking at the man or anything else in the room at all. Finally she nodded and looked at the man.
“It’s doable,” she said, “Six months for complete destruction.”
“That much?” the man asked.
“No,” Jeanine said, shaking her head, “That’s how long it takes to destroy a man’s life; at least the way you want it done. The cost is fifteen years.”
The man went white.
“So much?” the man asked, a desperate edge to his voice.
“Yes,” Jeanine replied, a hardness to her voice, “That much. I told you, it wouldn’t be cheap.”
“I know,” he said, “But I wasn’t expecting that much.”
Jeanine shook her head, sighing.
“It isn’t too late,” she said, “You can always just leave.”
The man sat still and silent for a few moments, and then shook his head.
“No,” he said, “No, I need this. I have nothing, what is fifteen years for vengeance?”
“It’s life,” she said, “Fifteen years is a lot of your life, and you’re signing it away to me for this. So make sure you want it.”
The man nodded.
“Good,” Jeanine replied, “Then follow Marcus; he’ll lead you to the room.”
The man nodded and stood, sweat on his forehead, a nervous energy about him. Marcus held the door open and they both left. Jeanine was without guards, but to assume she was without protection would be a mistake. She put the cigarette out on the ashtray on her desk and stood, smoothing out her dress. Standing she was an impressive six foot four, the heels she was wearing adding an extra four inches to her already impressive six foot even.
She walked out the door, and made her way to the room, her long graceful strides taking her there quickly. She opened the door and walked in. The man was strapped to a table, Marcus and the other guard standing to the side. The man looked up at her as she entered.
“Is this necessary?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said simply, walking up to him.
She didn’t say anything as she opened his shirt and placed her hand on his bare chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly her hand started to glow a bright blue, and the man started grunting. The grunts turned to screams as Jeanine’s head turned up, a look of ecstasy on her face. Finally the blue disappeared and Jeanine opened her eyes. The man was unconscious.
“Make sure he’s taken care of,” she told the guards, who nodded, “I’ve got to get on stage.”
She left the rooms as the guards unhooked the man she’d just taken fifteen years from. She walked down her private work hallway and opened the door leading to the main club. The guards at the door nodded to her, she nodded back. She made her way backstage and smiled at the small man with a clipboard who nodded at her.
“You’re on in ten Miss Solorinski,” he said.
She smiled and nodded, taking her place behind the microphone. She smiled as the announcer made her upcoming set known.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, “We have a special treat for you tonight; the one, the only, Miss Jeanine Solorinski.”
The curtains slid open and the spotlight hit her. She stepped closer to the microphone and started singing.