Page 48 of There Once was a Dancer
I threw up both hands. “Actually, I ain’t here for either of you. Is Cachi here?”
Both men instantly frowned and Todd turned away, swishing his hips as he sauntered back to his table and flopped down into the chair he’d only just vacated.
“What do you want with Cachi when you can have me?” the ginger asked, batting red eyelashes at me. I noticed they were coated with red mascara that made them look obscenely long.
“He’s a friend of mine. Is he here?”
The ginger frowned, looking down at his manicure. “No. Larry fired him. He no longer works at Dance Hall Boys.” He glanced up and preened. “But don’t worry, you’ve got me and I’m a whole lot better at everything than that little Mexican.”
I gritted my teeth. “Cachi’s Puerto Rican,” I corrected even as I felt my stomach roll. “And what’d’ya mean when you say he was fired?”
“Just like I told you,” the redhead said in a bored tone. “Larry fired him because he was late to work.”
“He fired him for bein’ late to work?” I said, frowning deeply. “How often is he late?”
“Like never,” Ginger rolled his eyes.
“That’s bullshit.”
Todd stood up and sauntered back over. “He wasn’t fired for being late, idiot. He was fired for refusing to suck Larry’s cock.”
“What?” My outrage was immediate and judging from the expression on both their faces, more intimidating than I’d thought.
“Yeah, that’s Larry’s thing,” Todd said. “If you want time off, suck his dick. If you want a change to the schedule, suck his dick. He’s a real piece of shit, but it’s not so bad. You can’t beat the pay here so a little dick sucking…or sucking a little dick—” He grinned. “Isn’t so bad now and then. It’s Cachi’s own fault. Larry’s been waiting to get the Mexican’s lips wrapped around his little pecker for a long time.”
“Cachi’s not…you know what? Never mind!” Explaining that Cachi was Puerto Rican to idiots who lumped all Hispanics into immigrants from Mexico, was useless. I spun on my heel and stomped away from them before losing my temper. I had to find him. The crowd had grown and I pulled out my phone as I headed for my car. I called up Cachi’s number and dialed. He picked up on the third ring.
“Bueno.”
“Cachi? It’s Rex.”
“Hi, Rex. How are you?” He sounded upset, deflated like someone had sucked all the life out of him.
“I’m fine, sugar. Where are you?”
“I’m home. I sorry, Rex. I forget you pick me up tonight. You at the club?”
“Yeah, but that’s okay, Cachi. I heard what happened. You’re home?”
“Si.”
“Okay, sugar. I’m headed to your house. See you in thirty minute—” Pain exploded in my chest and everything…suddenly…went…black.
CACHI
“Rex?” I looked down at my phone.
The call had disconnected so I hit redial. It rang and rang, going to voicemail. I frowned, maybe he was out of battery. I hit redial again. The same thing happened as the call rang out before voicemail picked up.
“This is Rex. Leave me a message.”
“Rex, this is Cachi. Please to call me.” I hung up and stared at the phone as someone suddenly began pounding on the front door.
I jumped off the bed, jogging down the hall as Mamá walked toward the front door. I don’t know why or what made me do it—call it instinct—but I called out to her before she could get there. “Mamá!” I caught up with her as someone pounded again. “I’ll get the door.”
She rounded on me, eyes wide with surprise. “Cachi? Who it is, mijo?”
“Cachi!” a voice shouted from the other side of the door. “Cachi! Open up! It’s Marcello!”
